#i can't deal with this my body is physically hurting thinking about it

[prettyflyforawhitelie]

Hi I love your work so far, do you think you could do headcannons for all the different characters of the main Hazbin Hotel cast when their lover comes to them injured? Like how they would treat you and then how they would deal with the person who harmed you. I would love to see this ahhhh 😫

Ahh of course! I love this, thanks for the request! I hope you like it!

Trope: Hazbin Hotel x Injured!reader

Characters: Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Angeldust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Lucifer

Warnings: Physical violence, mention of death, injured reader, blood.

author's note: hey guys! this is my first time doing one of these, and I'm still getting better, so forgive me if its a bit shabby. If you have any requests, feel free to send them in! I'm in a creative buzz rn lol. Enjoy!

🦌📻Alastor📻🦌:

The day that your attacker decides to hurt you is the day that they decide to die. Messing with the Radio Demon’s plaything is about the last thing you want to do. 

Alastor often sent his shadows to follow you into town when he couldnt be with you, so the second you were attacked, Alastor could sense that something was wrong. 

By the time his shadows had carried you back to the hotel, your attacker had already escaped, but luckily, his shadows saw everything.

When he rushed down to see you, he seemed rather indifferent at first. He carried you up to his room, immediately conjuring several healing ointments to heal you quickly.

He laid you in his bed, in which you almost immediately fell asleep.

He hears the whispers of his shadows, and gains all of the information he needs out of them. 

With a single snap of his finger, the issue was taken care of. Rumor has it that the screams of your attackers' seemingly “random” death could be heard about 3 rings down. 

While waiting for you to wake, Alastor conjures two steaming bowls of his mother’s jambalaya. Placing one on the side table next to you, he sits down next to your sleeping body and lightly grazes your head, singing soothing songs until you wake up.  

😈🗝️Charlie🗝️😈:

Would of course be so very angry at whoever did this, but her first priority would be healing you up and making sure that you’re absolutely 100% okay and comfortable. 

Would set you up in her bed and assure that you have anything at all that would make you feel more comfortable. Tea? Yup. Ice pack? Already got it. Cuddles? Of course!

Would definitely let you cuddle with Razzle and Dazzle for as long as you needed.

She would try her best to talk to you and figure out what happened - to figure out who did this to you.

As you told her, she seemed surprisingly… calm? She simply thanked you for telling her and left the room. 

Though Charlie doesn't seem like a particularly violent person… She can get protective over the people she loves. So, let's just say she got that issue taken care of real quick. How stupid to mess with the Morningstar family. 

🪽⚔️Vaggie⚔️🪽:

Anybody in her vicinity needs to watch out when she hears that her love is hurt. 

Like, seriously, heads will roll. But not before she checks on you to evaluate how badly she needs to fuck up the person who did this to you. 

When she sees you, bruised and bloody, she can't help but hold you so tight and cry, scolding you for getting yourself into a bad situation without her there to protect you.

Vaggie knows what it feels like to be beaten and dumped on the side of the street like garbage. She could never forgive herself if she allowed that to happen to anybody else, let alone the genuine love of her life. 

When she asks for the person who did this, you can only give her a vague description. That’s alright though, she will use her former exterminator skills to scan all of Hell and find the person who dared to do this to you. She will not leave this alone until she serves you justice. 

🕷️💖Angeldust💖🕷️:

Coming home from the studio to find you in his room, crying and bruised, he immediately drops whatever he’s doing and comforts you in the biggest hug ever. 

Angel has plenty of experience with being abused and left to fend for himself, so he doesn't immediately resort to asking questions. No, that’s not what you need right now. You just need to know that you’re loved, beautiful, and that this does nothing to affect your worth or value as a person.

He carries you from the floor to his bed, covering you in blankets and laying next to you with Fat Nuggets. 

“It’s okay baby. You can cry, it's okay.” he whispers as you sob into his chest.

He allows you to initiate the conversation of what happened, not wanting to push you past your limits. 

Once he finds out what happened, he knows what he has to do. He waits until you fall asleep, and heads down to the club where your attacker happens to frequent. For once, being a famous pornstar will actually serve in his favor. He tempts your attacker to follow him, and immediately beats him to an absolute pulp. 

He allows the person to live, saying “I am only letting you live so you can know how it feels. You ever try this shit again, and I will find you. Except that time, you wont leave here looking so… whole.”

♥️♦️Husk♦️♥️:

Husk is used to all the residents of the hotel bitching and moaning to him about all of their issues. With Charlie coming to him and oftentimes crying about the many failures of the hotel, tears were no foreign sight to him.

But coming from the kitchen to the bar and seeing you there, looking an absolute mess, was different. 

“What the-What the fuck happened?” he yells. When you flinch, he knows that something happened.

When you explain to him what happened, he immediately needs a description of the attacker. He takes possibly the largest shot you've ever seen and storms out of the hotel.

He wishes that he could do more to protect you. Back when he was an overlord, he had power beyond anybody's imagination. He could've snapped a finger and your attacker would simply disintegrate (but not before he tortured him a bit first). But now that Alastor owned his soul, his powers were limited. 

You know what wasn't limited on husk, though? His pure physical strength.  

He immediately finds the guy walking on the street adjacent to the hotel (dumb, right?) and absolutely obliterates him. 

As the attacker is begging for his life, he just keeps hitting, blind with rage and love for you.

When he wants back into the hotel bloody and exasperated, he sits in the stool next to you and wraps you with one of his wings. 

“It’s all okay now. I’m here” he says as you lean on his shoulder, so ready to go to bed. 

🐍⚙️Sir Pentious⚙️🐍:

Sir Pentious always loved coming to your room to show you his many zany inventions. Normally you welcome him in with open arms, a sweet smile on your face, but today was different.

When he knocked on your door, he was met with absolute silence, which isn't normal for you. When he listened a bit closer, though, he could hear your small sniffles. He trusted his gut and slowly opened the door, fully ready to be denied entry.

Instead, you looked at him shyly, turning away and crying. He could've sworn that he saw a… black eye?

He took this opportunity to come and sit next to you on your floor, placing his arm around you and letting you lean your head on his shoulder. 

When he noticed that you were calming down a bit, he asked you what was wrong.

You explained that while you were engaged in a turf war, some ruffian beat you up, and badly. The girl you had momentarily teamed up with had left you behind, and you were left to trek back to the hotel on your own, barely able to walk. 

You could see something change in his eyes. 

He curled his tail around you, his cool skin calming your nerves. He assured you that he was here now, and nothing like this would ever happen to you again. He then swiftly called his egg bois to entertain and comfort you while he prepared his airship. The idiot that did this to you was going to pay, and not just in turf.

😈🐣Lucifer🐣😈:

Bursting into Lucifer’s room, the only thing you could mutter is “Help” as you fell into his arms. 

He frantically carried you to a chair and tried to assess your injuries. Man, someone fucked you up, and badly. Too bad he would kill them before they could brag about their success. 

He rushed to find ANYTHING that could help you. Bandages, ice, your favorite food, a rubber duck, ANYTHING. 

When he finds you absolutely passed out asleep in the chair, he gently moves you to his bed and tries his best not to stir you. 

As he sits watching you, thinking of your beautiful smile (and how he’ll brutally kill the person who did this to you), he observes your features with great detail. 

When you wake up, you smile. Lucifer must have gone, but sitting on your table is a bowl of soup and… is that a rubber duck that looks like you?

[daenysx]

I can't stop thinking about modern!aemond with his pregnant wife or with the baby, like him caressing her little bump, or massaging her when she feels tired

i wrote a little drabble for this, i hope it's okay <33

modern!aemond targaryen x pregnant fem!reader , fluff

you wrap your fingers around the cup of herbal tea aemond made for you minutes ago.

he's not sitting here with you, because he needs to make calls and work in his room. you told him it's okay, never liked keeping him away from his job. working is something he needs to do to keep his mind occupied, otherwise you think he'll be worried for you or the baby. it happened before.

your other hand draws absent-minded shapes on your belly. it's grown huge, to the point where you can't see your feet when you're standing up. it feels unbelievable sometimes, the fact that you'll be able to see your baby girl in such a short time. you will hold her in your arms, feed her and kiss her. it's gonna feel like a miracle, you're not familiar with miracles.

you are curious about the details, of course. not the giving birth part, you try to keep your mind away from it these days. but what will she look like? doctors are saying she's healthy and everything's okay. will she have aemond's hair? maybe your eyes? will she read lots of books when she's grown like her dad, or will she like obsessing over fictional characters from tv shows just like you did years ago? she'll be perfect, you know that much. a mix of aemond and you. perfect.

you can't wait to meet her for many reasons but it would also be nice to stop being pregnant and get rid of the aches in your body. it's not easy to carry a baby, no matter how excited you are, physical aspects cannot be ignored for too long. you feel swollen everywhere, it's hard to leave the bed or couch by yourself, and sometimes even your face doesn't feel like your own. you think it's normal to feel that way most times, but- not always. not today.

the couch beneath you is usually comfy, not now, though. it feels like something's digging up your spine, you tilt your head back to the pillows with a low groan. baby girl moves, she's a bit restless today. you want to move your legs, maybe walk a little to relieve the numbness in them. well, you can't leave the couch by yourself. tough luck.

your hero steps in, and you manage to take a nice breath. aemond comes to you, his face is unreadable. he tries not to let work bother him, especially when he needs to be okay for the three of you now, but you sense him feeling stressed over it. it looks like today will be a small disaster for each member of his little targaryen family.

"what's wrong?" aemond asks, the moment he sees your discomfort. "are you hurting anywhere?"

you hand him the tea cup, only took a few sips from it before. "can you help me up, please?"

"of course, my love." he softens immediately. it's time to be a good husband, he's not gonna sulk over business deals just now. "here, let me hold you." he says, supporting your body to lift you up.

it's nice to feel your legs again. you hold aemond's hand, his other arm supports your waist to give you something to lean back. you look up to him to get a kiss. it's needed desperately, and he's quick to give you what you want. your belly gets in the way a bit, but aemond is tall enough to still tower over you, your lips meet just right.

"do you wanna walk with me?" aemond asks. "let's go to kitchen and find something to eat for you."

"a walk would be nice." you say, accepting his lead. "she's moving too much today. it's feels like she's angry at me or something."

"she's just impatient." he defends his girl. "she'll be here soon."

"yes." you say happily, stepping into the kitchen. "we still need to decide a name, though."

you lean against the kitchen counter as aemond takes out some fruits from the fridge. he starts preparing a whole plate of them, pineapples and strawberries. just what you like.

"i mean, at least we have options." he says. "we just decide what feels right when we get to see her."

"mm, okay." you say, not having enough energy to discuss the name thing over again. it's hard to pick it, even harder to stop yourself from thinking another option and trying to decide which will be better.

aemond is done with the fruits, he washes his hands and gets a towel to dry them before reaching for you. "you look like you need to get some sleep." he says with a little smile on his face. he cups your cheeks to kiss your chin.

"but you just made me snacks." you tell him. snacks are important.

"they'll be here when you wake up." aemond reminds you. "i'm done with work today. we can go to bed and wake up at dinner time if you want."

normally it's a shock to hear these words from your husband, he doesn't like spending hours on sleeping during the day. after you started getting more tired though, he tries to stay with you as much as he can. you like having him in bed even when you can't cuddle properly, it's the way he makes you feel safe. also, quality time for your tiny family.

you nod, holding his hand again to go to bed. walking seems a bit harder now, you wrap your free hand around your belly. you're thankful for having aemond's clothes on you, nothing feels restraining at least. you sit on bed and try to find a nice position to lay down.

you don't like having covers on you but aemond still pulls the thin blanket on your legs. he lays down after, keeping his body as close to yours as he can. his hand finds its usual spot on your belly. he's gentle with the way he rubs your skin. you close your eyes, your poor muscles give up.

"why is my girl so restless today, hmm?" he asks softly, leaning to your baby as he talks to her. "you need to give your mommy a break, little love, i don't like seeing her so exhausted."

aemond kisses where your baby's head must be and you feel a sudden comfort spreading all over your body. "keep talking to her, please." you say. you love how he manages to calm both you and your baby.

"you'll be here soon." he says, his fingers meet with her as she moves. "we'll get to choose you a name, and you'll wear your tiny clothes. we need to pick up a teddy bear for you, and decide your favorite color to get you nice dresses. you need to be here to do all that, okay?"

you reach for aemond's hand when you feel sleep taking over you. he keeps talking to your baby, and she finally settles down. he doesn't sleep, he doesn't need to. he can only watch you and stay with you just in case you need anything when you wake up. he gives both of you occasional kisses to remind you of his presence.

[nanamis-baker]

"Not so Breakable, huh?"

Summary: You went on a mission without informing anyone, and well, Gojo is mad.

Content: 18+ mdni, Angry/Makeup sex, unprotected sex, edging, overstimulation, Gojo's blindfold being used, choking, oral, and other stuff!

Word Count: 6.4k

a/n: I've been itching to write this for AGES, and now I finally had the time to do so! I can't wait for you to enjoy it! 🤍

Satoru's voice echoed through the room - not a shout, but a guttural roar. "How could you be so reckless?!" The words reverberated off the walls, shaking the very ground you were standing on. You stood toe-to-toe with him, nostrils flaring, your defiance burning in your eyes.

"Me? Reckless?" you shot back, mirroring his volume. "Satoru, it was my. mission!" Each word was punctuated with a jab of your finger towards him, desperate to break through his wall of anger. You waved your arms wildly towards your body, “Besides, I am not even hurt!”

You could feel the icy intensity of Satoru's eyes burning into you, even though his blindfold covered them. Not just anger, but a raw possession radiated from him. His rapid breath seemed to be laced with physical manifestation of his fury and worry, and a surge of curse energy crackled in the air between you.

He didn't respond to your words. Instead, he moved towards you. Each menacing step Satoru took sent a tremor through the room, causing you to step back. The floorboards groaned under his weight, the sound similar to terrified whimpers.

The air buzzed with emotions that transcended simple anger. It was raw, primal, and laced with something you couldn't quite define. His powerful frame loomed over you, blocking out the warm glow of the living room light, casting his shadow over you. You stepped back, your feet coming to a halt when you felt the cold wall brush against your back.

When he stopped just a hair's breadth away, your breath hitched. You could smell the faint, familiar scent of his cologne and something else - something musky. You both stood frozen, locked in a silent battle of wills.

The tension in the air was so thick it felt like suffocation. He moved his arms, caging you between his muscular chest and the rough wall. You were trapped, not just by physical force, but by the intensity radiating from his very being.

"You went on a damn mission alone without even informing anyone!" His voice was a low growl against your ear, a storm brewing beneath the surface. It wasn’t just anger in his words - his words were laced with a raw, dominating edge that sent shivers erupting all over your body.

"A dsmn special grade mission, for God's sake!" he roared, the words a physical blow that vibrated through your chest.

This was impossible. Dealing with a special-grade cursed spirit solo was reckless, yes. You knew that. But Satoru was being overly protective. You were a grade-one sorcerer, trained to handle such threats. You weren't a fragile doll he could keep locked away.

Fury burned in your eyes, a mirror image of his own. You shook your head, defiance hardening your features until your jaw ached. Your fists clenched so tight your nails dug into your palms, drawing a bead of blood that you just ignored.

"The mission was an emergency," you spat, your voice barely above a whisper despite the roiling anger within you. "And I am not as breakable as you think  –"

"Cut the bullshit!" he snarled, cutting you off with brutality. His voice had dropped to a dangerous purr, sending a shiver down your spine that wasn't entirely from anger.

"I care only about the fact that you went ahead with it without even telling me," he continued, his voice low and dangerous. He was so close, you could feel his lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

The air between you pulsed with a raw, electric current, drawing your bodies closer despite the anger simmering between you.

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words wouldn't come. This was ridiculous. Satoru was being ridiculous. There was no way to escape his dominance, or was there?

Suddenly, in a move fueled by a mix of anger and a desperate need to assert yourself, you did something unexpected. You reached up and cupped the back of Satoru’s neck in your hands, tilting his head down to meet yours.

The kiss that followed wasn't a gentle one - a lover’s kiss. It was a clash of wills disguised as intimacy, fueled by your anger. Pouring your emotions into the kiss, you tried to communicate what he wasn’t willing to understand. You grabbed the front of his shirt, the fabric crumpling in your fist as you yanked him closer. Your lips met his in a battle for control, a fierce collision that sparked something electrifying within you.

There was a desperate need inside you - a simmering desire for something more that you were very familiar with.

Despite his initial shock, Satoru returned the kiss with equal fervour. His hands, previously braced against the wall, reached for you with a possessive hunger. One hand slid down your back, tracing the curve of your spine with a searing touch that made your head tilt up, deepening the kiss. The other hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek, a silent demand for submission.

But you wouldn't submit. Not now, not entirely. You met his force with your own, pushing back against his kiss, your tongue a weapon mirroring the fierce need you felt deep in your core. A low growl rumbled from Satoru’s chest, a sound both primal and urgent.

The tension in the air changed and became something far more dangerous, fueled by your cursed energy and frustration. The kiss became a dance, a push and pull for control. Satoru deepened the kiss, stealing your breath away and weakening your resistance. You fought back, nipping at his lower lip, drawing a gasp from him. The taste of blood, metallic and sharp, ignited a new kind of heat between you, a heady mix of aggression and need.

The room faded away, replaced by the urgency of the moment. You were lost in the kiss, consumed by the raw emotions swirling between you. It was a fight, a dance, a desperate yearning all rolled into one. And as the kiss deepened, as both your anger and your desire reached a feverish pitch, you broke away, gasping for breath.

You looked at Satoru, taking in the rapid rise and fall of his chest against your fist. A beat of heavy silence stretched between you before Satoru spoke, his voice a husky rasp.

"Not so breakable, huh?" he murmured, repeating your words, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. It wasn't a question, but a statement accompanied by a hint of amusement. A slow smile spread across his face, causing the hair on your arms to rise up.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear, caressing the shell. "How about we put that to a test?" he whispered, the words soft like the calm before the storm.

With that, he threw you over his shoulders effortlessly, his strength leaving you breathless. A gasp escaped your lips, both from the sudden movement and the unspoken challenge hanging in the air.

Satoru’s hands caressed the back of your thighs, massaging the muscles as he made his way towards the bedroom. The touch almost felt like an apology as anticipation filled the air. 

Not even bothering to turn the lights on, he roughly tossed you onto the bed, with your back pressed against the cool sheets. His eyes were blindfolded, yet you could clearly picture the storm brewing in his cerulean eyes.

"Show me you mean it, then," you said breathlessly, your voice laced with challenge.

A slow smirk spread across Satoru's face, a hint of danger flickering in his voice as he replied, "Careful what you wish for, darling." Without wasting another moment, he was on top of you. The weight of his body was a powerful press that pushed you to the bed.

His hand gripped the back of your neck with a rough urgency before his lips met yours again, finishing what you started in the living room. Your hand tangled in his hair, pulling at the roots, the soft fabric of his blindfold a frustrating caress against your fingertips. Your other hand reached for his back, nails digging into the hard muscles as they travelled down, pulling him impossibility close, the heat of his body mirroring the fire burning in your core. Your fingers brushed against the hem of his shirt, slipping inside his shirt before lifting it up. You craved to feel his skin against yours

But Satoru was quicker. He grabbed your hand by your wrist, long fingers curling around it before pinning it to the mattress beside your head, keeping your hand in place. His touch was electrifying, a mix of frustration and raw awareness.

"Take it off," you mumbled against his lips, the command laced with barely contained anger. Satoru pulled back a fraction, his lips hovering a tantalising distance from yours. A slow smile played on his lips, his voice a husky purr. "So eager, huh?"

He didn't wait for a reply. Instead, his lips trailed down your jaw, his lips peppering wet kisses along the bone. A searing kiss landed on the pulse point at your neck, the heat of his breath igniting a fire within you. You moaned - a sound that was desperate for more, much more.

Satoru chuckled at your frustration, the sound clinging to your skin. He rained kisses down your neck and chest, moving your shirt away to trace the length of your collarbone. His teeth brushed against it, before he sucked hard, his teeth sharp against your skin, leaving his mark.

He went on, his lips moving with a slow, deliberate purpose over the barrier of your clothes. Each kiss felt like a tease, a promise of what was to come. His free hand slipped under your shirt, the fabric bunching beneath his touch, a flimsy obstacle that only heightened your growing desire.

"These are getting in the way," he murmured against your skin, referring to your shirt. His hands, strong and sure, began a slow exploration beneath the fabric, sending sparks flying wherever they touched. You arched your back into him, a whimper escaping your lips as he brushed against a particularly sensitive spot.

The frustration was a delicious torture. You wanted him to rip the clothes away, to feel his bare skin against yours. But a strange pleasure arose from this slow, deliberate undressing. It was a battle of dominance, and for now, Satoru was the victor.

With a sigh that was half frustration, half surrender, you let your head fall back to the mattress. You knew you wouldn't win this fight, and in truth, a part of you didn't entirely want to.

Your shirt was bunched above your chest as Satoru worked off your bra, his fingers reaching behind your back to unclasp the material before sliding the straps off your shoulder. Cold air hit your bare chest as you felt a tightening sensation, your nipples pebbling up.

Satoru’s fingers danced over your buds, the touch feather- like, causing a soft whimper to escape your lips, a sound you couldn't quite control. He smirked at your desperation, “what is it, love?” He asked, “Want more than this?” as if to show what you could get, he pinched your nipple, causing a sharp gasp to leave your mouth.

“Fuck - Satoru I -” A strangled gasp escaped your lips as Satoru's lips brushed against your nipple, a whisper of heat that sent shivers down your spine. Then, teeth scraped against the sensitive peak, before he left a sharp bite on the skin. His tongue darted out - a wet caress soothing the sting. It was a delicious ache, a thrilling sensation that left you breathless.

He moved down your chest, savouring every inch of your body. Each nip, each suckle, left a raw ache in its wake, a desperate yearning blooming within you. You wanted more - more of this intense, bordering-on-painful pleasure that pushed you to the edge.

"Satoru," you gasped, your voice breathless - thick with desire and a hint of something darker. "Don't stop." The words were a plea, as you arched your back - an attempt to get more of this sensation - more of him.

“Don't worry, love” he said, before leaving a kiss right over his mark on your chest, “The night is still young.” Pain and pleasure clouded your senses, and by the time Satoru was done, your chest felt raw and so sensitive. 

The world narrowed down to Satoru; the feel of his lips against your skin as he left a hungry trail down your body, devouring every inch of your exposed flesh till he reached the waistband of your pants. You felt a tug at the fabric, your eyes widening as you realised his intentions.

"Wait!" you gasped, the word barely escaping your lips before there was a sharp rip. The sound echoed in the tense silence as Satoru tore your pants down the seam in a single, swift motion before removing the material and discarding it.

Heat flooded your face, a mix of fury and something else entirely. You opened your mouth to protest, but Satoru cut you off.

"Don't worry, love," he murmured against your thigh, before nipping at the skin of your inner thigh, "I'll get you something new. Hated them anyways."

Before you could even process his words, Satoru's strong hands parted your legs, settling between them. His hot breath brushed against your stomach as one of his hands wrapped around your thigh, keeping it open.

He didn't waste time. With a swift movement, he pushed your panties aside, his lips replacing the cool, wet fabric. The sudden shift in sensation was electrifying. A gasp ripped from your throat, a sound that mingled with a desperate moan. "Fuck, ‘Toru," you breathed, your voice thick with desire and a touch of surrender under his touch. Your hips instinctively bucked upward, seeking a deeper connection with his touch.

You could feel the smugness radiate from him. “Eager, are we?” He asked, before his tongue darted out and slowly traced the length of your slit, gathering your wetness, leaving a trail of saliva. Satoru then focused on your clit, sucking and licking, sometimes even biting it while his fingers teased your entrance, drawing agonising circles around it. 

Your eyes squeezed shut, a throaty moan leaving your chest. You knew Satoru was just getting started, but it already felt so intense - you could feel your orgasm building.

He continued this, but the pressure kept changing. Sometimes it was just a tender touch - a feather-light brush of his lips. The other times it was a hard, deliberate suck on your clit, his teeth nipping at your most sensitive spot. It was hot and cold, frustrating and maddening.

Your hands fisted the bed sheet by your head, the force enough to rip the expensive fabric.

Just as your core clenched, the first tremors of release building, Satoru's focus shifted. His mouth focused on your entrance as Satoru stiffened his tongue before plunging into you. His thumb tracing light, small circles over your clit, the touch a fleeting brush - never giving you what you wanted, but showing you what it could be. Testing you, testing how far you’d go before you broke. It was a constant reminder of what you craved just out of reach.

Your hands snaked down your body, a desperate attempt to claim the pleasure that danced just out of reach. Your fingers twitched towards your clit. But before you could find solace, Satoru's grip tightened on your wrist. He yanked your hand back, pinning it against your stomach. 

Satoru pulled back a little, blowing softly on your clit, the cool air a world away from the heat you felt, giving rise to goosebumps all over your skin. He left a soft kiss on your inner thigh as his finger continued their torturous dance over your heated skin.

Your toes curled and dug into his clothed back, urging him closer - to do something more, but Satoru wasn’t deterred. He kept teasing you, keeping you balanced on the knife’s edge.

Your senses were overloaded, the feathery touch of Satoru’s fingers on your skin so different from the firestorm building within. His silky hair brushed against your inner thigh, the ticklish sensation enhancing your pleasure. You arched your back, trying to escape the delicious agony, but Satoru kept you in place, his muscular arms tightening around your thigh.

"Satoru!" you gasped, your voice a desperate plea laced with a hint of something wilder. A single, sharp moan ripped through your throat, held back by a dam of rising pleasure that threatened to burst. You were close - so close.

Your hand, shaking with a strong need for release, reached out and tangled itself in his hair, your grip tight. You knew it would hurt - it had to. "What are you trying to do?" you hissed, the words laced with a breathless urgency.

Satoru pulled back, his lips brushing against your inner thigh, caressing it, “Patience love,” he said softly. “I am trying to show you something here.” with that, he left one final kiss on your clit before he started pulling away.

Your heels dug into his back, to prevent him from pulling back, but Satoru just pulled himself back, letting go of your hand before grabbing your ankles, pulling you down until you were teetering on the edge of the bed, your breath catching in your throat.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, your clit throbbing, so desperate for a release. But before you could do anything, your eyes darted to the man in front of you. Moonlight glinted off his face, highlighting the wet glossiness on his lips. His hair, a tangled mess mirroring the tangled emotions between you, obscured the blindfold that had slipped a little. Despite the anger, despite the unresolved words, a raw truth hung in the air. He looked beautiful, even when he was a mess.

Satoru reached for your shirt that was bunched up over your chest. He pulled it over your shoulder, the soft fabric scraping against your burning skin. With ease, he manoeuvred your arms behind your back, before he took the discarded fabric and wrapped it around your wrists, twisting the fabric with cruel efficiency, transforming it into a makeshift handcuff.

A new wave of heat flooded in your core, accompanied by shock and a new challenge. "Oh really, Satoru?" you hissed, lifting your head to look at his face. “Did I intimidate you so much you had to tie me up?”

Satoru's grin promised both danger and exquisite pleasure. His hands moved to lift the blindfold, revealing eyes that encased a storm. The moonlight glinted off the sapphire irises, causing them to glow, but it was the rim around them, a ring of raw, unbridled desire, that stole your breath. It spoke of a hunger that mirrored your own, a hunger that was far greater than the anger simmering between you.

Somehow, in that single, electrifying moment, Satoru looked more dangerous and more tempting than ever before. His eyes invited you to fly too close to the sun- an invitation to a dance on the edge of control, and you were ready to take flight.

After the blindfold came off, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your earlobe as he whispered, “Oh love, you will not just be tied up.” With that, he lifted his blindfold over your head before lowering it down, covering your entire world in pitch darkness.

The sudden absence of light intensified the heat radiating from Satoru's body, his every breath a ragged whisper against your ear. You could feel him move away - the heat of his body disappearing, before he settled down on the bed beside you. 

His hands were on your thighs, pulling you so that you were straddling his lap, the strong muscles of his thigh hard against your sensitive skin. His hands were on your back, caressing the curve of your spine, his nails dug into your skin. A gasp escapes your lips - a mixture of pain and arousal - as wetness flooded between your legs. You were sure your back had the crescent shape of his nails branded into it. 

“You want to cum right?” he asked, as if he wasn’t painfully aware of your needs. 

You kept your mouth shut - not giving him the satisfaction he craved, but the tremble of your body against his - desperate for a release - gave away enough. “Ride me, darling.” he murmured, “Take whatever you need.” The words were a taunt - a challenge - one you were willing to take.

With that, he settled back, leaving you to do what you pleased; well, it wasn’t like you could do much. You settled yourself against the bulge of his pants, hissing as it rubbed against your throbbing core, the texture of his pants feeling oddly smooth. But you paid it no mind as you began rocking your hips back and forth, reigniting the flames in your core.

Your back arched, your head tilted back and you moved your hips against him, throaty, deep moans leaving your lips. Yet, something was different - weird even. You have done this countless times in the past, yet why was it so different this time? 

Your fingers itched again to toy with your clit - to get the friction you craved, but there was nothing you could do.

Frustration gnawed at your senses, reaching its peak when you could feel nothing, even as you increased your pace. Your thighs burned with exertion.

Satoru's hands were a constant presence on your back, tracing a lazy path over the length of your back. A sharp sting on your nipple jolted you; Satoru had pinched it - hard - you realised. “What is it, love?” Satoru asked, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “You seem to be having some trouble, hmm?”

You could see nothing, yet you could feel Satoru's eyes on you as a frustrated whimper escaped your lips. He was enjoying this - enjoying every damn second of your desperation.

“Satoru you-” just then it dawned on you. Why it felt as if you were riding nothing - why it had no texture, no form - because it was nothing, it was just emptiness.

Satoru was making you ride his infinity.

Your eyes widened behind the blindfold, a strangled cry erupting from your throat at the realisation. He was doing it on purpose - of course he was! Getting you worked up and needy, begging for him.

 The world was a frustrating blur of darkness and incomplete sensation. The phantom friction only amplified your desire, making you squirm against the sensation.

Satoru reached out, trailing his fingers down your folds, a slow, deliberate path that sent shivers down your bound arms. Every brush sent a wave of pleasure straight to your core, a promise of release dangerously close. But then, he'd withdraw, leaving you burning with a frustrated heat - Satoru's touch was a cruel tease, determined to push you over your limit.

"So close, aren't we, love?" he gently kissed your cheek, the touch as soft as a butterfly’s flutter. You could practically feel the smirk playing on his lips against your cheek.

"Satoru," you growled, the warning clear in your voice.

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through you. "Feeling impatient, hm?" he cooed, his fingers brushing your inner thigh with a whispering touch, causing you to hiss and pull back slightly, but Satoru’s strong hands stopped you. 

“You should look at yourself right now,” he breathed against your neck, his words dripping with amusement as he described what you were unable to see. “Looking so pretty like this, riding nothing but air,” He sucked on your pulse, drawing a gasp out of you. “Making a mess all over me.” his fingers brushed against your core again, as if to prove his point.

Just after those words left his mouth, Satoru flipped you over so that you were on the bed with him on top. Without any warning, his fingers plunged into you and you groaned - finally, you could feel something - something tangible.

Satoru’s long fingers pumped inside you, his thumb drawing tight circles on your clit. Your wetness immediately coated his fingers. His fingers curled and twisted, the movement promising an intense release. Your breath came in short pants as Satoru quickened his pace, adding another finger inside you, stretching your walls. Your back arched to give him better access, encouraging him to go deeper.

“Fuck, Satoru, don’t hold back,” you panted, knowing he needed a little push. “Oh, not even planning to,” Satoru replied, twisting his fingers inside you, brushing against all your stops, the pressure delicious against your muscles. 

Your impending orgasm finally greeted you, igniting every cell in your body in its wake. You were screaming or crying - you didn’t know, as Satoru continued pumping his fingers into you, elongating your release.

But he didn’t stop once you were done. Satoru pumped his fingers inside you as he increased the pressure on your sensitive clit, bringing you so close to another intense orgasm. Your eyes rolled back into your head behind the blindfold. Your legs shook, your bound fists clenched behind your back as another wave of pleasure took over you, chants of Satoru’s name leaving your lips.

He went on, his fingers gliding in and out effortlessly. HIs long, slender fingers sent shivers down your spine with each deliberate stroke. Lost in a haze of pleasure, breathless whimpers and groans escaped your lips as your body arched for more. Undulated pleasure took hold, wave after wave washing over you. You felt yourself melting, boneless - a pile of blissful surrender under his touch.

By the time he was satisfied, you were a mess. Your core was so sensitive - like a live wire, a bundle of exposed nerves. Your throat ached as pleasure coursed inside your vein, making your skin burn. Satoru held you close against his warm body as you struggled to catch your breath, before he leaned down and whispered, “We aren’t done yet, love.”

“But Satoru -” you began, but Satoru placed a finger over your lips, silencing you. “Shh, you have got some more in you - I know it.”

With that, he moved away, the rustle of fabric greeting your ear. He was undressing, you realised. The situation felt weirdly ironic. Here you were sitting on the bed, completely bare for his eyes - at his mercy, yet you couldn’t even see him.

As if sensing your thoughts, Satoru said, “Don't worry, sweetheart,” his hands brushed against your ankles, “You'll get what you want soon.”

You parted your legs, giving Satoru the space he needed as he settled closer to you, the mattress shifting under his weight.You could feel his tip against your sensitive core, a hiss leaving your lips as you lifted your hips, trying to get more of him.

Satoru moaned at the sensation, a sound that resonated through you. He pressed a hand on your lower stomach, forcing your hips down before he reached back, undoing the bonds of your hand. 

A sigh of relief left your lips as you reached out, ignoring the stiffness of your muscles. Your hands found his broad shoulders, pulling him closer.

Satoru's warmth enveloped you, his cologne a heavy presence in your senses. His tip brushed against your clit. Satoru used his cock to gather your wetness, before he found your entrance, plunging into you with a force that left you breathless.

Satoru’s pained hiss filled your ears as your walls clamped down around his sensitive length, eager for all of him. But before he completely settled inside you, Satoru stilled, moving inside you with short, shallow movement. He moved deliberately, each thrust a calculated tease designed to send you spiralling.

The frustration that had been simmering all night boiled over, coursing through your veins. You had enough of his teasing, and with a surge of newfound power, you wrapped your legs around his hips, hands gripping the back of his neck. In a smooth motion, you flipped the two of you, taking control, Satoru still nestled deep inside.

“What are you doing, love?” Satoru questioned, the sudden change in positions taking him by surprise. You moved over him, your walls squeezing around his length, causing Satoru to moan. “Taking what I need, honey” you answered breathlessly, using his own words against him. Your hands travelled up his chest, brushing against taut muscles, before moving over his shoulder and wrapping your hands around his throat. You squeezed his neck, the touch powered by the anger and frustration you felt all evening.

A moan ripped from Satoru’s chest, the sound vibrating against your hand as your hips pistoned against his. His hand tightened on your hip, providing stability to your thrusts. His other hand, a searing brand, traced a path up your side, sending shivers cascading down your spine. Reaching your blindfold, he paused, his fingers lingering on the cool fabric before he lowered it, the fabric hanging around your neck.

The darkness lifted, revealing Satoru. His eyes burned with a desire and need that mirrored the simmering anger in your gut. His hair was a mess of damp tendrils clinging to the flushed skin of his face. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, mirroring your own. His chest heaved with short, ragged breaths, evidence of the effect you had on him. Your gaze finally landed on his lips, where a smirk played. 

This fucker was enjoying this.

Your grip around his throat tightened, watching as his skin turned a deeper shade of pink. You quickened your pace over him, your head thrown back in a gasp as intense pleasure coursing through your body.

Satoru’s grip on your hips tightened further, controlling your movement, making you bounce on his cock. A gasp escaped your lips as his other hand found your throat and squeezed, a shocking contrast to the gentle brush of his thumb against your pulse point. For a moment, the world narrowed to his touch, the pressure building a delicious tension in your chest.

“So pretty, love.” His words were like fuel, feeding the growing fire of pleasure inside you. His eyes raked over your body, lingering on your chest - the reddened patches of skin, each one a map of his touch. The marks he left burned under his gaze, like flames dancing over your skin.

His hand left your throat and the pressure on your throat vanished, replaced by a gasp as you gulped in air, your pace becoming frantic. The room was filled by the sound of moans and skin slapping against skin. 

You felt your orgasm building, a tidal wave of pleasure threatening to crash over you. With a gasp, you arched your back, tightening around Satoru's hardness. A hiss escaped his lips as his grip on your hips tightened further. His nails dug in, drawing sharp, red lines across your skin, his desperate urgency that mirrored your own.

Satoru’s finger reached down, travelling between the valley of your chest, over your stomach before reaching your aching clit. His finger danced a maddeningly rhythm over your bud, each circle a deliberate tease. Anticipation coiled tighter with every caress, a pressure building in your core that threatened to explode. “Cum for me, love,” he murmured, a barely concealed tremor in his voice. When he flicked and pinched your clit, a gasp ripped from your lips.

The dam broke. Pleasure surged in a white-hot wave, crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your walls spasmed, clenching down on Satoru with a pulsing intensity. Your back arched so high you felt bone strain, your breath a ragged cry clawing its way out of your throat. You crawled at Satoru’s chest, leaving red, angry marks all over his glistering skin.

The aftershock of your release left you breathless, clinging to Satoru for support, your face buried in his chest. But before you could completely bask in the afterglow of your orgasm, Satoru shifted. With ease, he flipped you onto your hands and knees.

He shifted behind you, leaning down to press a kiss on your sweaty temple. His voice was a low rumble against your ear as your eyes met. "Enjoyed that, sweetheart?" He smirked, but the glint in his eyes held a different promise. He hovered at your entrance, the tip of him a torturous brush against your heated core.

"Because," he continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "it's my turn now." Without a warning, he plunged into you again, this time from behind, taking control over your body. 

You whimpered - it felt too much. But it also felt so good.

Satoru leaned down, his hands cupping your throat, pulling you towards him. He placed a kiss on your forehead, his hands digging into your lower back, urging you closer. A shudder wracked your body, the aftershocks of your release battling the building heat within you.  

"You're doing so well," he rasped out. "Just one more," his lips moved against your cheek, a hint of desperation lacing his voice. "Can you manage that, love?"

Exhaustion gnawed at your limbs, but the raw desire in his voice was impossible to resist. You could only nod, your body already betraying your mind as he surged back into you.

His hand reached for the blindfold hanging around your neck, grabbing it. You sucked in a breath, a thrill shooting through you, already knowing what was about to come. Satoru’s hand twisted around the blindfold, tightening it, cutting off your oxygen. Your blood rushed to your face as his other hand grabbed the front of your hair, his fingers digging into your scalp, tugging at your roots.

He used the blindfold and the grip on your hair to leverage your body, controlling your movements, moving you back and forth on his cock. Tears welled up in your eyes, a mix of overwhelming sensation and exhilaration. Your body moved instinctively against his, lost in the delicious friction he had created.

Satoru's grip on your hair intensified, pulling your head up. “Fuck love, you take me so well” he groaned. his movements became erratic, fueled by his own rising desire. His gasps filled the space between you, mirroring your own quickening breaths. You could feel the frantic beat of his heart echoing against your back

A surge of heat flared low in your abdomen, spreading outwards in a delicious wave. Your walls instinctively clenched around him, mirroring the tightening grip of his hand around the blindfold. You squeezed your eyes shut, overwhelmed by a tsunami of sensations - the press of his body, the unrestricted sounds of his pleasure, the exquisite friction building within you and the way he filled you.

Your orgasm finally took over you - over every muscle in your body, leaving a white - hot fire burning in its wake. It felt as if your senses had stopped working, the intensity of your release replacing everything. Your breath hitched in your throat, replaced by a guttural moan that tore from your lips.

Satoru hissed behind you, his movement becoming jerky as his length pulsed inside you, “So close -  love” he choked out, gasping, before you felt his warm cum filling you up. He shuddered, his body mirroring yours as his own orgasm greeted him.

Satoru continued pumping into you, pushing and burying his release deep inside you - where it belonged. He pulled out, using his cock to gather the cum and wetness leaking out of you, before pushing it back into you, stuffing you up completely.

He held you close, his ragged breaths mingling with yours. The world faded away, leaving only the press of his body and the aftershocks of pleasure reverberating through you. “See what you do to me?” he asked, still pulsing inside you, before pulling you in for a kiss.

Satoru's fingertips traced lazy circles over your bare back, his fingers cool against your heated skin. You nestled deeper into his chest, the crisp scent of fresh bed sheets and his bodywash calming your senses.

"You did so good today, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. You could hear the tenderness, the unmistakable pride lacing his words - You knew he wasn’t just talking about the events that took place moments before.

Confused, you lifted your head, meeting his gaze. The question forming on your lips died in your throat as he pressed a finger against them, a playful glint in his sapphire eyes. "Let me finish, okay?" he asked, a soft smile playing on his lips while his eyes pleaded you to remain quiet - to let him say what he was thinking.

Your hand instinctively wrapped around his, a silent invitation for him to continue. His other hand brushed through your damp hair, still wet from the shower. "Taking on a special grade curse all alone? Without even a scratch?." His voice hushed with awe, "You're incredible, love."

A blush crept up your neck. You knew you were more than capable - you had trained hard to reach where you are today - but hearing it from Satoru sent warmth through you. You knew he wasn’t saying it just for the sake of it - he genuinely meant it. "It wasn't that big of a deal," you said, trying to deflect his praise, ignoring the warmth blooming in your chest.

He chuckled, a rich, rumbling sound. Then, his expression turned serious. "Seriously, though, next time something like that happens, just let me know, alright?” he asked, cupping your face, your eyes meeting his. “Even a quick text would do."

The playful glint returned to his eyes. "Besides," he added, a mischievous smirk spreading across his face, "it wouldn't be any fun if I don’t show up every now and then, saving your ass" 

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound echoing in the quiet room. You playfully yanked his arm “It was just once!” you said, the laughter still bubbling out of you. 

But you knew he was right, knew he just wanted to be there for you, to offer his strength when you needed it most.  "Alright," you conceded, a smile gracing your lips. "Whenever something like this happens again, I will let you know."

He squeezed your hand, the warmth spreading through you. "Good," he said, before pulling you closer, his lips brushing against your temple.

Your eyelids felt heavy - the day’s fatigue finally caught up to you. You nestled in Satoru’s arm as sleep pulled you into its comforting embrace.

a/n: Ahhh, writing smut is always SO difficult but so fun lol. I hope you enjoyed this!

Dividers by @/cafekitsune!

[alexlwrites]

𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: OT7 x Plus Size! Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: "What was so outrageous about someone like you, you asked yourself and the universe. You had tried your best to compensate for any shortcomings with everything else that was expected of you: femininity, understanding, a sense of humor. Never enough, those were never even the first thing that came to mind when people thought of you.

Why bother then? If nothing you did made any difference at all, why try? If people hated your body just for existing, why not give them a reason to hate your personality as well?"

OR  

The one where seven campus princes who are used to getting everything they wanted get enchanted by your distrust and brattiness, climbing over each other to get a smile from you who could not be bothered to give them a single second of your day.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:  Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU

✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I wanna leave this here as sort of a trigger warning: this work features a plus size main character and throughout the story there will be mean comments from characters about her body and her journey dealing with said comments. A lot of it comes from my own experience as a (now ex-ish) plus size girl myself and my path to living peacefully within my body. And although this work is about Y/N's relationship with the boys, I like to think that she still would've continued to grow and blossom happily on her own. Let this be something you learn from this fic, as I say right on the first chapter: You don't have to love the way you look right away, you just can't let it stop you from doing the things you want and, in a greater scale, from being happy and treated with respect.

Thank you for reading <3

P.S: Red daisies, like many red flowers, represent love and romance. Florists often use them to communicate affection to someone who doesn’t know how beautiful they are—a.k.a. beauty unknown to the possessor. 

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi)

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

The pattern in your relationships - if you could call them that - was tiring, to say the least. Once, they might have been soul crushing, but time and repetition took away the novelty of your pain and now the endgame was a mild, resented disappointment.

It started with kindness and a gentle smile, mainly from your part. You treated anyone who gave you any smidgen of attention with the utmost sweetness, hoping your energy would be matched. And sometimes it was, for a while. Sometimes you got to be on the receiving end of a blinding smile or a casual touch and you allowed yourself to hope - no, pray -that that could be it. That someone, some modern day knight in shiny armor , saw through your looks and decided that you were deserving of love, despite societal norms,

But men had a way of setting you up for disappointment. A talent, truly.

You were tired, you decided that night. No, beyond that, you were exhausted, scarred, bitter, hopeless, resentful… You could keep going. You could list every bad feeling you had been carrying in your chest by alphabetical order or by how badly they hurt and honestly you just wanted it to stop.

Would you have to change everything about your body to be happy, you wondered watching the boy you had been seeing for a few weeks make fun of you in front of his circle of friends at the party you were both at. Would you never be allowed to be happy just the way you were?

Would you have to change everything about your body to be happy?

“Yeah, she’s nice” Junsuu said, winking suggestively at his giggling friends “if you know what I mean.” you felt your face heat up in humiliation at the renewed round of laughter “But we just don’t match, like, physically. You know, looks-wise.”

“Right” someone agreed way too enthusiastically, sending a spear through your heart “I really just can’t see you with someone like her.”

What was so outrageous about someone like you, you asked yourself and the universe. You had tried your best to compensate for any shortcomings with everything else that was expected of you: femininity, understanding, a sense of humor. Never enough, those were never even the first thing that came to mind when people thought of you.

Why bother then? If nothing you did made any difference at all, why try? If people hated your body just for existing, why not give them a reason to hate your personality as well?

“You’re right” you said out loud, drawing attention to yourself. Filled with hatred (for him, the world, the circumstances), your heart had no room to be mortified when all eyes turned to you “we don’t match.”

You watched as Junsuu’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting you to hear, much less reply “I am a big girl” you continued, words dripping with rage “And I know for a fact that there’s nothing big about you.”

You turned around to leave the room, cringing at the petty comeback, ignoring the murmurs and Junsuu’s panicked calls of your name. Walking fast, you fled the scene of the last heartbreak you would allow yourself to go through, deciding that a change was needed, but not the change everyone wanted from  you.

Despite the rumors, you didn’t turn into a huge bitch overnight, didn’t start kicking puppies or spitting on the poor. Truly, the only thing you did was establish boundaries and reevaluate the amount of respect some people deserved, but very quickly people started seeing you as some sort of villain, especially when they realized how little you cared for how they saw you. How disrespectful of you to not allow yourself to be disrespected, right?

At first, there was still an air of uncertainty about you - years and years of non-reciprocal niceties drilled into your brain, habits hard to quit. But the more you let go of those things, these tiny acts of self-aggression disguised as pleasantries and altruism, the lighter you felt; Your days became easier to get through, existing within your body felt less and less like a punishment. You had yet to reach an Instagram-worthy level of body positivity, but you had become accustomed to body neutrality. You didn’t have to love the way you looked right away, you just couldn’t let it stop you from doing the things you wanted and, in a greater scale, from being happy and treated with respect.

And respect you started to demand and much happier you became, living in relative peace and solitude - safe by a few close friends - up until your days started being pestered by seven headaches you could not seem to shake away.

—-

Jungkook was the one that saw you first.

It was 3 weeks into the semester and he finally decided it was the perfect time to start going to classes, sitting in the back and only listening to about 25% of what was being said, mind floating towards more important subjects such as the package of ramen waiting for him at home. Only mildly interested in what the professor had to teach, he couldn’t help but to be startled when everyone started getting up from their seats to shuffle around the room. “What’s going on?” he asked the guy sitting next to him.

“Professor gave us a duo assignment.” the other man said, standing up “You're with Y/N.”

“Who?”

The guy just pointed towards you with his chin, redirecting Jungkook’s attention before leaving. You were sitting a couple rows further down, hunched over your little green IPad as you wrote something with impressive velocity. Jungkook walked over to you, already mentally going over what he would have to do to charm you into doing everything on your own “Y/N?” he called and you raised your head.

You were pretty, he noticed with satisfaction, all bright eyes and lovely features, curves everywhere he looked “Yes?”

“I’m Jungkook.” he extended his hand with a casual smirk “The professor put us together for this project.”

There had been a small, but pleasant and polite smile on your face up until he said those words, replaced by pursed lips and an arched brow. “Yes, I know. We’ve had classes together for over a year now and been partnered together before.”

Uh oh. “Right” he coughed awkwardly, fumbling under your hardened stare “so, about this project…”

“We will meet once a week,” you said, straightforward as you turned your eyes back to your sticker-filled IPad “I will go over the theme and split the work evenly, so give me your number and I can text you with what you’re supposed to do.”

“Woah, woah, asking for my number already?” he said in a flirting manner, sitting on top of your table so he could be directly in front of you.

“Would you prefer it if I emailed it to you?” you asked without looking up.

“Actually, I was thinking you could help me out a bit,” he placed his finger under your chin, raising your face towards him “you know I have soccer practice and…”

You pushed his hand away “Unless you’re playing at the World Cup, I can’t see how that would be more important than your studies, so you either do your part of the assignment or get an F in it, I don’t care. I won’t do all the work for you, Jeon. Not again.”

Again? Jungkook winced, trying to remember when you had met before. Surely he would remember getting his head bitten off by a snappy, pretty thing like you, wouldn’t he? Surely your attitude would stand out to him amongst all the sweetness and compliance he received just for existing and smiling.

“Here’s my number.” you gave him a piece of paper with your digits written in gel sparkly ink “Text me when you decide if you want to pass this class. Good day.” 

You looked down again, going back to your notes, signing that the conversation was over before he even had the chance to add anything more. He jumped off the desk and stepped away, looking back to see if you were looking at him, but there wasn’t a single glance from your part.

Shit. Shit. He actually did have to pass this class, otherwise his overbearing soccer coach would kick him off the team. He stared down at your number, wondering what he would have to do to get you to cut him a little slack and forgive him for absolutely forgetting about your existence. 

—

“Hey, this is Jungkook” the text from an unknown number said “looking forward to us working together. We should get dinner sometime, get to know each other better.”

You read over the text once more, willing your heart to slow down its beating. Sure, Jungkook was charming and handsome, but you had seen this dance before. He would talk his way into your good graces, making you laugh and giggle until you had a four thousand word essay done with both your names in it and your texts to him would go unanswered and unseen. 

This was not your first hurtful rodeo. You put your phone away, facing down, ignoring as the poor device vibrated itself off the table with the upcoming texts.

Meanwhile, across campus, Jungkook was fuming.

“Or breakfast. We should get breakfast. I know a great place.” he tried once again, but his message was left unread. Still, he persisted.

“I have a lot of great ideas for this assignment. Don’t you want to know them?” he texted, even though he didn’t have the faintest idea on what the assignment was even about.

“You know, it’s rude to leave a guy hanging.”

“How can we do this if you won’t even text me back?”

“I thought we were in this together.”

“You know, like High School Musical.”

He kept typing out absurdity after absurdity, hoping you would dignify one with an answer. He just needed one opportunity, one opening…

His text stopped going through.

“She blocked me!” he gasped out loud.

“Who?” his roommate, Taehyung asked from where he laid on their couch, feet up on the coffee table.

“This girl in my class. We have this project together and she blocked me!”

Taehyung sent a disbelieving look his way “Were you actually planning to do the work?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Obviously not.”

His friend rolled his eyes “Obviously not. So what’s your plan here?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, too busy looking for alternative ways to contact you. After a few minutes of research, he found your Instagram. You were cute, he noticed again, scrolling through your few posts, all relatively recent. You had a very specific style, a tasteful mix or dark and edgy with splashes of pink and bows, tight corsets under leather jackets that he couldn’t help but stare appreciatively, the flattering material clinging to your waist line and pushing your breasts up, exposing the soft freckled top of cleavage to his always hungry eyes. In your pictures, your eyes shone brightly, crinkling at the sides from your ever present smile and he could not understand why you hadn’t directed one of those to him. 

It was unsettling, to say the least, but he could not allow his annoyance to take over. He needed your help if he wanted to pass that class and if he had to use unconventional ways to get your attention, he would. 

And so, much like a little boy pulling at a girl’s braids, he started liking and spamming the comments of every single post you had.

—

There were whispers all around you, your worst nightmare.

You were at the school library, getting work done while drinking from your fourth cup of coffee, hands shaking due to caffeine and anxiety, your ever present friends. You tried to focus on your books and carefully written notes, but every word you could barely hear and every look you felt over your shoulder seemed to dig claws into your skin. You knew what they were saying. You heard it all the way from your dorm to your classes and couldn’t seem to escape them. 

“Did you see Jungkook’s comments on her pictures? What’s that about?”

“It’s not like there’s a lot to comment, is there?” 

“Maybe he thought it was someone else?”

“It’s probably a prank.”

“I bet he was hacked.”

Of course, why else would someone like Jungkook - a campus prince, popular soccer player, heartthrob - show interest in you? 

It hurt, but a small part of you still agreed with those mean spirited whispers. You closed your eyes, trying to even your breathing and will those thoughts away. You knew better, had learned better than to measure your value by how interested some boy was in you.

When you opened your eyes again, Jungkook was in front of you.

You barely had time to process his presence when the voices picked up volume, your skin prickling and eyes aching to remain dry. 

“What’s Jungkook doing with Fat Y/N?”

That word shouldn’t be as hurtful as it was - after all, it was just an adjective, just the current state of your body that served only to carry your thinking mind, your feeling heart. But people always said it like a curse, wielding it like a sword.

You closed your eyes again and when you opened once more, Jungkook was still there. Looking furious.

“What are they saying?”

“What they always said” you shrugged, avoiding his eyes by looking down at your papers.

Jungkook didn’t move for a while, hearing people pretend to whisper around you but it was clear that the motherfuckers wanted you to hear. Was it always like this for you, he wondered, watching as you focused on whatever book you had in front of you, hunched over with tense shoulders, your face a far cry from the luminescent one he saw on your Instagram, not a hint of that smile he wanted directed at him so unreasonably.

He couldn’t just stand there and watch you struggle to keep your posture. 

You felt him standing up and leaving more than you saw him. Good, you thought. He should leave, like everyone did, scared away by that one word that followed you around like a brand. He was probably embarrassed to be seen with you, you assumed bitterly, and there was no place in your life for people who didn’t want you proudly by your side…

Jungkook sat back in the chair in front of you and you couldn’t help but gape at the impressive bouquet of red daisies he extended towards you.

“Take it” he said, but you couldn’t move, could barely hear the furious voices around you over the roaring beat of your heart.

You… You had never gotten flowers. 

“Take it” he repeated “I almost got run over because of this, the least you can do is accept it.”

“Jungkook” you whispered, dumbfoundedly accepting the bouquet “what’s this?”

“People keep doubting I could be interested in you” he said and there was an edge to his tone you did not expect “maybe this could help clear up some rumors.”

“This is not your battle to fight” you held the flowers close to your chest carefully, looking up at him with distrust, unable to understand his motives “I’m used to this sort of thing and I don’t care about those stupid rumors.”

You were used to it? That just made Jungkook angrier. How could you be used to that sort of treatment? 

Jungkook was a lot of things - spoiled, a little lazy, sometimes a dick. But he wasn’t a bigot and he wasn’t about to stand around and let you become used to being disrespected if there was something - anything! - he could do about it “I like picking up fights”.

“Is this just pity?” you asked and he could see walls around you that stood thousands of feet tall “Is this because of that stupid assignment? Because I’m not going to do all the work just because you got me some flowers…” 

He raised his hands and smiled at you “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll do my work” he said, a new goal in mind as he saw you recoil from him with eyes filled with wariness like a suspicious kitten “You said once a week, right? How’s friday for you?” 

You still clung to your bouquet like a lifeline “That works, I guess.”

“Great!” he clapped loudly, standing up and catching the eye of those around him “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart” you mumbled, but he pretended not to hear as he crossed the table around to your side, quickly leaving a kiss to your heated cheek before you had the chance to react.

“Alright, sweetheart, I’ll see you around” he said, making sure everyone in the library could hear him “do me a favor and unblock me, ok?”

You flipped him off, both for stealing a kiss and that stupid nickname, but he just laughed it off.

“That’s my girl” he said and the library erupted in renewed whispers.

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝

°•. ✿ .•°

[Red Daisies taglist: @purplelady85 ]

[Permanent taglist: @imknewattis ; @dreamamubarak ; @onlythebest-106 ; @betysotelo18 ; @havetaeminforbreakfast ; @uno7 ; @chimchimmarie ; @anaya123world ; @junecat18 ; @kayleefriedchicken ; @jkselcouth ; @ivrose21 ; @svnbangtansworld ]

[snakewithawitchhat]

Bill Headcanons

I have enough of these to fill up my guts whatever that means

Includes: Normal, readerxbill platonic, readerxbill romantic, freaky stuff he into

Normal

He definitely said skibidi once because he had no idea what it meant or where it came from

He would probably honest to god enjoy interacting with an iPad kid because he thinks they're fucking funny

Tea person over coffee

Probably reads books on the randomest subjects. Mostly they all have human psychology in common, though. Or anatomy.

His favorite kids movie is Wreck It Ralph, favorite adult movie is Shawn of The Dead (He doesn't believe British people are actually real and finds the movie funny), favorite horror movie is probably something really obscure and is just plain goreporn or something like that.

(In my opinion) I feel like if he had a more anthropomorphic form (legs and arms and body) it would probably be something VERY weird core or something like that. Like, extra limbs, weird ass colors, and random effects. He'd probably keep the triangle imagery, though.

Would definitely just say random ass shit to freak people out

He has a thing for teeth. Not, like, a weird thing or a sex thing. He just really thinks they're cool.

If he had an iPad... he'd spend all day either being your standard reddit user or an iPad kid.

Probably like King from The Owl House sometimes.

Speaking of TOH, he met The Collector once. He thought the kid was neat and played a few games of chess with him before leaving. Probably one of the inspirations for The Collector's insaneness

He also met The Core from Amphibia. Or at least knew the core existed.

His favorite human color is either red, yellow, or orange. It's really everything on the hot side of the color wheel tbh.

Platonic X reader

Dream invasion time-- He would SO rummage through your mind if you made a deal with him.

If you pissed him off, he'd probably jab a fork in your arm while possessing you. He wouldn't be as insane as he was with Stanford's body, though. He wants yours to work properly.

Dream demon or not, he probably had a Drea- NIGHTMARE... it was SO a nightmare... about having more fun with you if you built the portal.

Would be touchy. Not in a weird way (if you ask, he'll stop) but he'll just, like, pat your shoulder or something like that.

If Weirdmageddon 2 happens he is SO finding you and inviting you to his party. You're coming, too. You don't got a choice. Womp womp.

If one of his friends were to eat you, he'd probably be disappointed as all hell, but it really depends on how close you are with him. Besties? He'd kill that monster and resurrect you with the parts left. Just acquaintances? Who are you again?

Would still possess you even after he gets a physical form. (he likes to prank you)

Romantic X reader

Clingy bastard. If your insert is mortal, he'll be by your side 24/7 if Weirdmageddon is happening. Even if your insert ISN'T mortal.

Would be even MORE touchy.

He'd set up boundaries and be clear with his own while probably ignoring yours. (he isn't a great partner)

It's probably a toxic one-sided relationship at first. Bill is NOT a good person at ALL. He always had a goal in mind. He sees his romantic interest of you as a little thing that just ALSO happened.

Probably gets flustered by affection really easily if you're the one showing it.

He won't know much about human affections, so you'll probably have to show him the ropes.

Before you do THAT, though, he'll probably just bite you (with his freaky fucking eyeball mouth thing). Not even as a sexual or possessive thing. He just likes to bite you. It's like an awkward thing he can't control. Get too close and he can feel your warmth? Bite. Bite. BITE. It's not light stuff, though. It's always hard enough to draw blood. Purposeful or not. (It's not on purpose)

He doesn't get JEALOUS, but he does get a little insecure if you start getting infatuated with someone else.

If you're hurt from someone, you BEST know he's overprotective as fuck. Your puny mortal body is pathetic, but if you lose it, he loses you, too.

You aren't aging ever again. You aren't DYING ever again. No. He won't let you die ever. Body is giving out? Here's a new one. Forgetting...? No, he'll plant more memories in your mind. He's too late and you're dead...? No you aren't... You'll always be conscious. Whether your body is rotting around your mind or not.

Sex junk

Sadist. 100% all the way. Not even light things, like slaps. No, if you consent, he will full on break your bones.

He doesn't feel sexual gratification like humans do, so it's more of just something he'll do to either please or displease you. Whichever one, it's almost always about how you feel.

He doesn't have a dick, so you'll be on the receiving end always. Unless you REALLY want to give.

He has a giant eyeball on him. He definitely likes to watch.

Always tops because there isn't much you can do to dominate him. He'll try to let you if you really wanna, but it probably won't be the easiest.

Blood kink. That's it. He thinks it's so pretty on you. Especially if it's yours.

[naomeii]

Hooo boy, this one's heavy. Could I request Neuvillette and his wife getting into such a heated argument that she, in her frustration and exhaustion, asks him if he wants a divorce? Ashamed, she turns to leave, only for her husband, who's in tears, to hug and beg her not to leave him.

Love's verdict.

—Pairings: Neuvillette x Wife!Reader

Content : Domestic fluff, tiny bit of angst

Neuvillette and (Y/N) stood in their living quarters, the air thick with tension. The usually composed Chief Justice looked visibly perturbed, and (Y/N) was fed up with the perpetual distance between them.

"(Y/N), I must ask you to understand the constraints of my position. Personal matters should not interfere with my duty," Neuvillette insisted, his tone clipped.

(Y/N) couldn't hold back anymore. "Neuvi, this isn't about your duty. It's about us. You're never here, emotionally or physically. It's like you're married to Fontaine, not me. I can't take it anymore!"

Neuvillette sighed, "My duty is to Fontaine, and Fontaine is my responsibility. You knew this when we got married."

(Y/N) was frustrated, feeling a mix of anger and hurt. "I didn't sign up to be a widow while you're still alive. I need a husband, not a distant figure hidden behind the title of Chief Justice. Do you even care about us?"

Neuvillette's expression hardened, "This is bigger than us. It's about the people, the justice I serve. You knew that sacrifice was part of the deal."

(Y/N) took a deep breath, her patience wearing thin. "I can't do this anymore, Neuvillette. I need a partner, not someone married to his job. If this is how it's always going to be, do you even want to be married?"

The room fell silent, the weight of (Y/N)'s words hanging in the air. Neuvillette's stoic facade wavered for a moment, and he looked at (Y/N) with a mix of frustration and realization.

"(Y/N), divorce is not an option. It's not something I can entertain. My duty—"

(Y/N) interrupted, tears welling up in her eyes, "Do you even love me, Neuvillette? Or am I just a placeholder in your life?"

The Chief Justice hesitated, a rare moment of vulnerability crossing his face. "(Y/N), I—"

Cutting him off, (Y/N) took a step back, her voice shaky but resolute, "Think about it, Neuvillette. If you can't find a way to be a husband as well as the Chief Justice, maybe we need to reconsider this whole thing."

As (Y/N) reached for the doorknob, the distant sound of thunder rumbled through the air, and the room dimmed as dark clouds gathered outside. She sighed, realizing the storm outside mirrored the one inside their home.

Just as she was about to leave, Neuvillette's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. Startled, she turned to see him, tears streaking down his face, a sight so rare it sent shivers down her spine.

"(Y/N), please," Neuvillette's voice quivered with a mix of desperation and sorrow. He pulled her back gently, and in an unexpected move, wrapped his arms around her.

"Neuvi, let go," (Y/N) said, her voice softening despite the turmoil within her.

But Neuvillette clung tighter, burying his face in her shoulder. His usually composed demeanor shattered, revealing a vulnerable side that (Y/N) had rarely seen.

"Don't leave, (Y/N). I can't bear the thought of losing you," Neuvillette pleaded, his voice breaking.

(Y/N) felt a mix of emotions, torn between her frustration and the raw vulnerability in Neuvillette's embrace. The storm outside intensified, rain pelting against the windows.

"I can't keep living like this, Neuvi," she whispered, her own tears mixing with the raindrops on the windowpane.

Neuvillette tightened his grip, his body trembling. "I know I've been distant, but I can change. Just please, don't leave me. I can't face a life without you."

His words hung in the air, the sincerity cutting through the tension. (Y/N) hesitated, her heart aching at the sight of her husband in such agony. She softened, placing a hand on his back.

"Neuvi, we need to talk. We can't go on like this, but maybe there's a way we can find a compromise," she said gently.

Neuvillette pulled back, looking into her eyes with a mixture of hope and gratitude. The storm outside began to subside, as if nature itself was responding to the shifting dynamics within the room.

As they sat down to talk, the rain outside turned into a soft drizzle, a symbolic reflection of the possibility of healing and resolution.

Several weeks passed, and a noticeable change came over Neuvillette. The once stoic Chief Justice now found himself making an effort to bridge the emotional gap between him and (Y/N). He began to express his feelings more openly, his interactions reflecting a newfound warmth.

One evening, as (Y/N) was preparing dinner, Neuvillette approached her, a hint of shyness in his eyes. "I wanted to help," he said, offering a small smile.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow in surprise but couldn't help but smile back. "Well, don't just stand there. Grab an apron. We're making this together."

Neuvillette awkwardly tied the apron, a bit unfamiliar with the domestic setting. As they worked side by side, cutting vegetables and stirring pots, he attempted to engage in casual conversation. "Have I mentioned that your cooking is one of the things I love the most?"

(Y/N) chuckled, "You've never mentioned it, but I appreciate the sentiment."

As days passed, Neuvillette's demeanor continued to shift. He became more attentive and, surprisingly, a bit shy. He'd occasionally steal glances at (Y/N) when he thought she wasn't looking, his gaze filled with a mixture of love and uncertainty.

One day, as (Y/N) was about to head out, Neuvillette caught her by the hand. "Do you really have to go? Can't you stay a bit longer?" His voice held a hint of vulnerability.

(Y/N) grinned playfully, "What happened to the Chief Justice who used to value duty above all else? Are you trying to shirk your responsibilities?"

Neuvillette blushed, looking down, "Well, maybe I've realized there are things more important than duty."

(Y/N) teased, slipping away, "Well, we can't have the Chief Justice neglecting his duties now, can we?"

But Neuvillette surprised her by swiftly lifting her off the ground, peppering her face with kisses. "(Y/N), you're the most important thing to me. I can't let you go without a proper goodbye."

Caught off guard, (Y/N) laughed, "Okay, okay! Put me down, you goof!"

[megu-meow]

love scars - Gojo Satoru

Gojo x Fem. Reader

Summary: you heal Gojo's scars after his fight with Sukuna.

TW: MANGA SPOILERS, hurt, pain, battle scars, blood

Seeing Satoru physically hurt was not something you witnessed often. His infinity kept him safe, not many were able to penetrate the invisible barrier that protected him from outside attacks. However, the King of Curses was one of those few that managed to nullify that defensive power of your beloved husband and you warned the white-haired sorcerer about that possibility before going into battle.

It was heartbreaking for you, to let him go into battle so soon after his unsealing, but you had no other choice. He was the strongest after all, the one destined to defeat the monster called Ryomen Sukuna. You couldn’t just sit there with the others and watch the clash of the strongest, so you decided to wait in the medical ward of Jujutsu Tech, knowing that Satoru would teleport there instantly if he got hurt. Shoko told you about his plan, he didn't want you to be there when he arrived, and he didn't want you to see him hurt, but you couldn't care any less about his preferences. You were a Special Grade sorcerer, a healer with an insane amount of cursed energy, but Gojo didn't want you to take care of his wounds after his fight because of the Heavenly Restriction imposed on your powers. In order to balance out the sheer amount of cursed energy you possessed and the seemingly limitless reversed cursed technique you could produce, your technique had its flaw: the pain that you took away from others by healing them was inflicted on you throughout the duration of the process.

He witnessed it many times, the way it worked, and he held you lovingly, trying to take away the agonizing pain shaking your body. Compared to you, Shoko's powers were a lot more limited, she couldn't deal with greater injuries, however, she could heal him enough so that he could do the rest on his own. There was no way he could allow you to go through the pain he was feeling after Sukuna's back-to-back slashes.

After the longest 2 hours of your life, you suddenly felt a huff of air and Satoru appeared in front of you, growling in pain.

"No, no, no, baby, you're not supposed to be here, go get Shoko, please." he implores, the agonizing pain visible in his cerulean eyes. At least the one you could see, the other slashed in half, covered in blood.

"Shoko's busy with the others, Satoru. You know this is not the job for her, she couldn't do it. I have to be the one to heal you, sweetheart." you explain, already multiplying your cursed energy, ready to produce the RCT needed for a difficult job like this one.

"No, I can't... I can't let you deal with this, my kikufuku. It's unbearable, it's too much." he exclaims, tears running down his face "I can do it myself, I just need a moment to cool down and re-charge my cursed energy."

"No, you can't, Satoru! You're gonna bleed out, I have to do this. Please, let me do this..." you are crying now too, imploring him to finally agree "I love you, please let me do this!"

He takes off his surprisingly intact shirt, he hisses in pain, but he has finally accepted your help. You step closer to him as you put your hand over the deepest cut you could see, one close to his precious heart and you look him in the eyes one last time before starting the process. He leans up to carefully kiss your lips, whispering how much he loves you, how sorry he is, and how everything is going to be fine. He takes your free hand into his and he can feel your grip tightening as his wound fades slowly. For the first few cuts he thinks you're doing great, but you are doing everything in your power to not scream from the agonizing pain. Your eyes are full of tears, your face contorted from the feeling of sharp blades slicing your skin. There are no visible scars or anything signaling that you were hurting, but he knows what you're feeling. It's the same thing he had to endure half an hour ago while fighting Sukuna.

After an hour of constantly healing him, you're about halfway done, but the pain gets nearly unbearable and you scream, trying to push through it for Satoru's sake.

"Baby, please, stop, I'll be okay from now on, I'll do the rest myself, just please stop!" he implores, unable to let you continue. You cannot speak back, you drop your head back, trying to deal with the unbearable pain, but you don't let go. You continue healing him as he implores and begs you to stop. His eye is the most difficult to restore, but you're able to do it, and as soon as his last scar disappears from his body, you collapse into his hands, barely conscious.

"Are you okay, little one? Please tell me you're okay. I love you, I need you to be alright." he says cupping your cheeks, leaving small kisses all over your face and lips.

"I'm fine, 'toru. Don't worry!" you smile lightly, kissing him on the lips "Jus' tired."

"I'm not gonna let you do that again. I don't want you to feel pain, sweetheart. You're so brave, you are amazing. I love you more than anything." he murmurs, kissing the crown of your head as you bury your face in his toned chest, inhaling his scent. He smells like cologne and body wash, a tiny ounce of sweat, but you don't mind. You're glad he's okay and that you were able to heal his porcelain skin, making every scar littered on his body disappear forever.

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

hello hello!! i was rereading the sunshine p2 headcanons, and i read a part that said “it’s not even the worst he’s done, you’re just that type of person in bed.” and it made me wonder… so what’s the worst san lang and xie lian has done to m!reader?? and what triggered them to be so horny towards reader? something reader said or wore? or was the two talking amongst eachother and had ideas?

i hope you’re taking care! i remember once you said you’re in school, so i hope that’s going well too!!💗

☀️anon

Sunshine headcanons 3

Hua Cheng x M!reader x Xie Lian

Thank you for waiting so long💕

I'm continuing off the sunshine reader headcanons for this

If the gif isn't Tgcf ignore it because the Internet sucks ass I'll fix it later

I did this at school 😊

I'm putting it in headcanons since there's multiple questions but just tell me if this isn't what you meant

Made up scenarios

There might be slight misinformation remember when Hua Cheng had the weird rut thing? Yeah I'm using that, but my details might all be messed up.

Ignore grammar mistakes

Maybe OOC

If you do not like these things do not read this.

NSFW, slapping, spanking, bondage, overstimulation, edging, choking ahead!!!

Sunshine headcanons part two

Sunshine part four

____________________________________

Xie Lian and San Lang have done plenty of things to you!

Of course you've enjoyed it

San Lang likes to bully you so of course the things he's done have been more rough.

San Lang likes to edge you, or overstimulate you. It just depends on his mood

He'll do it for hours too.

Each time he makes sure you're crying and babbling. If you're not then San Lang doesn't think his job is done.

San Lang's favorite things is to fuck you dumb

Whether it be in bed, or over a calligraphy table, or in the gambling den, even over an alter!

His goal is to make your vocal chords raw and your legs shake.

San Lang makes sure by the end of the night that your poor cock can't cum anymore and you're all emptied out

So after a long time of making you wait, or pushing you over the edge many times you obviously start to squirm.

It's a natural body reaction that San Lang enjoys to see but he doesn't appreciate when your hands reach him and attempt to pause his ministrations.

(Obviously he would stop if you said your safe word or seriously wanted to stop)

Which leads to something else he enjoys.

Bondage!

San Lang loves, loves, loves to tie you up in pretty red ropes so that you can't escape him

It just does something to him, to see you tied up like that.

Like if you wanted to you seriously could break out of them but you enjoy being good for him and being pretty for him too.

San Lang won't get physically rough with you, he isn't one to hit you or spank you.

He likes to watch though

Xie Lian is mostly the gentle one, you both are gentle.

That doesn't mean he can't be rough though

If you're in the mood to get physically aggressively that's Xie Lian's domain.

While San Lang would rather not put you in serious pain, Xie Lian knows you want it and it's in a safe space.

He wouldn't ever purposely hurt you either, this is only in the bedroom.

So Xie Lian surprisingly enough is the one who will slap you if you get too mouthy, or spanks you if he thinks you deserve such a punishment

Your guy's sex life didn't always look like this.

It used to always be vanilla and gentle. Which of course you all enjoyed but everyone was hiding deeper desires

It started more with Xie Lian and San Lang talking

You aren't assertive at all so of course you didn't make a peep about your own feelings

Xie Lian and San Lang had just been making ideas of their own, they aren't dumb

They just decided to keep it to themself for now until there was an opportunity to discuss a more complex bedroom life

Their plan of smoothly introducing you to this failed very quickly when Hua Cheng went through one his strange rut things again

Xie Lian doesn't know why but he had been planning on taking care of it himself.

He's dealt with it before and he's sure Hua Cheng doesn't want you to see him like this

Especially when Hua Cheng rarely remembers what happens

Well that didn't go as planned either, when you accidentally enticed Hua Cheng

Honestly it's all your fault (jk)

Xie Lian had left for a literal 30 seconds before he could hear thumps in the room.

It was an accident on your part, you had come home with a new outfit you wanted to show your lovers

Some pretty robes you got from the ghosts

You were very pretty but the robes were obviously meant for more vulgar work. Not that your oblivious self knew.

So when you decided to show Hua Cheng how you looked, his rut-adled brain jumped on you immediately, pushing you into the bed and ripping the many layers off

Which was unusual for Hua Cheng, who was usually patient and waited for you to carefully disrobe.

So when Xie Lian went to go check what was going on it was already too late🤷

Hua Cheng already had you pinned under him and your poor, ripped up robes were now just scattered cloth on the floor.

So that's how your bedroom life changed.

After that night of aggressive, and endless sex you decided you white enjoyed it

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng enjoyed it too

🦊🪷

"A-Lang, A-Lian, I'm home!" You call, walking into Paradise Manor. However your lovers don't answer, do you decide to just go to the bedroom. Unknowingly for you, you've just passed Xie Lian in the kitchen, and your lover can't warn you about San Lang. Woops. Your first mistake of the night.

You continue on to the bedroom. You had been out most of the day. Xie Lian and San Lang ushered you out of the house, so you decided to hang out with your ghost friends. The women were absolutely adored with you and wanted to dress you up. The women's work was to try and attract the attention of men to have sex but you were friends with them anyways!

They're quite chaotic and fun to be around. They dressed you up in some of their robes. You know how you looked. Enticing, pretty, sexy, etc. The point was you wanted your lovers to see you. Why wouldn't you show them? You're dressed up so pretty for someone's attention so of course you want your lovers to be the ones to give you such attention. Your second mistake of the night.

When you open the bedroom door, you find only Hua Cheng in the room. You don't remember seeing Xie Lian anywhere else in the manor so maybe he went out? "A-Lang what are you doing all alone in the bedroom?" You hum.

Your voice immediately drags Hua Cheng's attention. His head snaps in your direction and then you see his eyes roaming over your form. He never replied and he only looks at you like prey. You should've run them but that was your third mistake. You just watched your lover stalk closer to you and stay where you are instead.

If Hua Cheng is a fox, and Xie Lian is a ferret, you're definitely a rabbit. You just freeze in place, staring at him. Hua Cheng lightly runs a hand over your cheek and he just looks at you for a few seconds. The silence is broken when he's suddenly grabbing you by the elbow and showing you down in the bed. He doesn't even say anything just low grunts and growl like sounds come up from his throat.

You yelp in surprise. Hua Cheng has never done this. He's always careful and even hesitant to touch you but something has changed. Before you can ask what's happening or try to move out of under him, Hua Cheng rips your robes. "S-san Lang, wait just a minute?!" You shriek and blush. You try pushing back, and attempt to sit up but Hua Cheng shoves you on your back and forces you under him.

Xie Lian finally decides to see what's going on and quickly finds the two of you. He blinks in shock. He never saw you come in. Also your situation right now is shocking as well. Xie Lian is quick to move Hua Cheng back and off of you, using rouye to keep him in place. Xie Lian at first though you might've been scared. After all you've never seen Hua Cheng like this but you're actually, shamefully hard.

You're blushing and shut your legs, trying to hide but you can't when Xie Lian has already seen. You don't know why you're turned on. This should be scary and frightening but that's the opposite of what you're feeling right now. The way Hua Cheng harshly forced you under him, as if he was going to devour you right then and there? The way he ripped your robes without care, because he's too impatient and wants to fuck you now?

You quite enjoyed that.

"A-n, are you alright?" Xie Lian smiles at you and walks closer to run a hand over your hair. You can only bid slowly. You're still staring at Hua Cheng who struggles a bit in Rouye's hold.

The perfect time has presented itself so why not take it by the hand? Xie Lian tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, and he leans down, pressing his lips near your ear. "Baobei, do you like this? Do you like how San Lang treats you?"

You blush and gulp nervously. You turn your head trying to move your sensitive ear away from Xie Lian's lips. His breath tickles your ear and his voice just makes you ache more. "U-uhm"

Xie Lian tried out something for himself and he grips your hair, forcing your head to stay where it is. When you moan, Xie Lian stops feeling bad about it. "Do you A-n?"

"I-I like it" you gaze at bed, too aroused to meet any of your lovers gazes. Xie Lian smiles at your answer, and sits next to you on the bed. "Would you like to help San Lang this time around?" Xie Lian looks at Hua Cheng, who's staring at both of you with a predatory gaze.

Xie Lian's hand rubs over your thigh, "Let's try it then." He releases Rouye and lets the bandage wrap back around his wrist. Hua Cheng is immediately up and moving, getting on the bed and dragging you into a rough kiss. It's different and you like it. Hua Cheng explores your mouth with his tongue, and he nips your lips until the bleed a little.

Xie Lian doesn't mind watching, he likes seeing Hua Cheng enjoying you. He leans back against the headboard while Hua Cheng decides just kissing you is getting boring. His hands find your hips and he pulls you into his lap, spreading your legs around him so you can't hide your pretty cock away from him.

Hua Cheng attacks your neck next. Biting, and sucking roughly on your skin. Hua Cheng gets more handy though and one his hands dig into the plump flesh of your ass. Another hand starts rubbing your dick. You thought it was Hua Cheng but it's Xie Lian. You can only cling to your lover and moan. "San Lang face him this way" Xie Lian switches up the position.

You're still on Hua Cheng's lap but your back is to his chest, and now Xie Lian is in front of you instead. You cling to your lover's arms trying not to tip over, but Hua Cheng pulls your knees up to your chest instead, spreading you apart again. "You're pretty flexible A-n" Xie Lian laughs softly.

You flush at his words but a moan leaves your mouth when Xie Lian starts prodding oil covered fingers into your hole. "San Lang really wants to bully you Baobei but I'll make sure you don't get hurt" Xie Lian is only teasing you though, and you really want to cum by now. You whine impatiently, as Xie Lian purposely avoids your prostate.

Your prayers are answered though and his fingers leave you empty, the emptiness is soon replaced by something much bigger though. Hua Cheng keeps your legs hiked up and he bullies his cock inside you. A cry tumbles from your lips when Hua Cheng pushes your hips down, forcing you to take all of him.

He doesn't wait for your comfort like he usually does and goes straight to thrusting his dick into. He acts like he's been starved for years! "Ah~ A-Lang please, p-please!" You don't really know what exactly you're begging him for. Whether it's to slow down or for him to keep going but he successfully wrings an orgasm out of you, and it splatters across your tummy.

You've never had the chance to have more than one orgasm in a night but that's going to change today because Hua Cheng is moving again and he's shoving your face in the pillows. Hua Cheng prefers this, he can fuck you better when your on your hands and knees, and perking your ass in the air. His cock bullies deeper into you and his hips slap hard against your ass.

Xie Lian is thoroughly enjoying himself. Your eyes rolled back and your cries muffled by the pillows. He has a better idea though. "A-n can I borrow your pretty lips?"

You only babble an incoherent sentence at him, a mumbled "yesh~" and something else. Xie Lian really only cares for the consent though. He disrobes, enough to where he can let his cock escape its confinements. Then he fists his fingers into your hair and forces you to look up at him. Xie Lian was going to try and guide you through it slowly but you immediately nuzzle up to his dick and start licking his head.

Xie Lian moans and grips tighter when you take his cock down your throat and gag. Hua Cheng's fucking only makes you take both of their cocks deeper and soon tears are running down your face and another orgasm shakes you to your core. Xie Lian takes the initiative to face fuck you. Both of them make sure your holes are never empty for too long.

"A-n you're doing s-so well" Xie Lian purrs out, he stutters from your lips around his dick though. Not that you would notice you're too busy drooling and babbling. They aren't invisible to the pleasure they're receiving from you either and it's not long until they're both cumming in you at the same time. Hua Cheng's and Xie Lian's cum both feel warm in your belly. You can feel Hua Cheng's cum drips down the back of your thighs.

They pull out of you but Hua Cheng doesn't let you go. He keeps his arms wrapped around you and tucks his face into your neck. You breathe heavily and Xie Lian wipes the drool from your chin. You sigh leaning back on Hua Cheng's chest, resting. Hua Cheng chuckles in your ear and for the first time in the night speaks for the first time. "You don't think we're done do you?"

Of course you aren't. 💕

____________________________________

I hope you like 😭🙏

[lustfulslxt]

Fake Boyfriend - Matt Sturniolo

summary : out with your best friend, matt, you both run into your toxic ex. matt pretends to be your current boyfriend.

—

You and your best friend were now at the mall after deciding to go on a little fun shopping trip. You were just going to mainly browse, occasionally picking out a few things you both really liked, then go to get food.

Matt was walking beside you, holding yours and his bags, waiting for you to decide on what to eat. That was a struggle within itself, seeing as you're incredibly indecisive.

"I don't know why you're making me choose! You know I literally can't pick, Matty." You exclaim with a slight chuckle.

Matt shakes his head with a grin, "But you can though. You just won't."

"I'm actually physically incapable of it." You argue, causing him to burst out laughing, which led to you laughing with him.

"You're so dramatic, girl." He playfully rolls his eyes, before pointing directly ahead of you both. "We're getting Sbarro."

"Great!" You beamed at his undeniably easy decision. "Was that so hard?"

He stops in his tracks and gapes at you in disbelief, appalled at your audacity. "Apparently, it was. You quite literally act like it's the end of the world if you have to pick anything. I'm surprised you were able to choose what to wear today."

"It took me a good half hour." You sheepishly smiled, laughing at his bewildered expression.

"You're insane, kid." He chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you walk towards the food court. "Find a table, and I'll get our food?"

You hum in agreement, taking the bags from him. It only took a second to find a table away from the other people indulging in their food. You sat down, placing the two bags on the ground at your feet. While you waited for Matt to return, you just pulled your phone out to keep you occupied.

Your peacefulness was soon interrupted, not only a minute later. The sound of a deep voice clearing their throat, caught your attention. Your eyes trailed from their feet, up their body, meeting their eyes last.

It was your ex-boyfriend.

You had prayed to every God you could think of to never have to deal with this man again. Once you broke up, you cut ties with him completely, wanting nothing to do with him ever again. Of course, the universe had other plans.

"Long time, no see." He grins at you, as if you guys were old friends.

You couldn't help the expression that fell on your face, your eyebrows furrowed as you scrunch your nose in disgust. You were actually repulsed by him.

"What do you want?"

"Wow, that's harsh." He feigned hurt. "I miss you, Y/N."

His last statement caused a loud cackle to fall from your mouth, "Please be so actually for real, guy."

"Oh, don't be like that babe. I know you miss me and all our good times." He smirked, as if he knew you inside and out.

He couldn't be more far from the truth. Just his presence alone was making you uncomfortable, causing you to physically tense. You two ended on very bad terms, and honestly, at times he scared you. He was literally batshit crazy.

"Hey baby." Matt's voice spoke from the side of you.

Suddenly, your head was turned with soft fingers under your jaw. Not a second later, his lips were planted on yours in a soft and gentle kiss. As shocked as you were, you still kissed him back. As if you both got lost in the way your lips perfectly molded together, a scoff brought you both to reality and you pulled away.

"Who's this chump?" Y/E questions, his face full of anger.

"I'm her boyfriend if you must know. Kick rocks, kid." Matt glares, stepping slightly in front of you.

Y/E doesn't waste another breath before he's off in another direction. Matt sits in front of you, placing the tray of food on the table. Your eyes were wide, your mouth slightly agape, staring at him in silence. Once he noticed your state, he cleared his throat.

"I, uh.. Sorry, about that. I could see how uncomfortable you were, and it was honestly the first thought that came to my mind. Sorry, if I, you know, overstepped and made you more uncomfortable."

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly feeling incredibly dry. "Why was that your first thought?"

He looked like a deer in headlights as he thought about what to say. He knew he couldn't lie to you, you could read him like a book. So, despite the anxiety that coursed his veins and made him sick to his stomach, he responded, truthfully.

"I guess because I think about it a lot."

Your eyes widened even more if that was possible, flickering around before landing back on him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He sighs and gives you a look, "Alright, be for real. I think it's obvious how I feel about you."

Your lips turned upwards in an innocent smile, and you had to bring them into your mouth to prevent yourself from cheesing like a goofball. With a look of confusion, you replied, "Please do explain."

"You're so unserious." He laughs, shaking his head, but still elaborates, "I'm in love with you and everything about you, you dork."

Hearing that come out of his mouth had you ecstatic. It was like something within you ignited, and you couldn't help but smile from ear to ear. Your eyes shone with happiness as you stared at him. Without a word, you leaned forward, your hands reaching over and pulling him closer to you by his chain. Your eyes gazed into his, reading into every emotion displayed, hoping yours were showing the same.

They were.

Closing the gap between you, he leaned forward once more, smashing his lips onto yours. It was still soft, but passionate. As cliche as it sounds, his kiss set your whole body on fire. You couldn't help but smile into the kiss as your stomach danced with butterflies.

Once you pulled away, your eyes connected once again. "I'm in love with you too, you goof."

--

a/n : yuck, was this cringe? my first lil imagine or whatever. def not proofread, sorry bby <3 anywhooo, request whatever!

[princeoftheeternalbog]

Helloooo, I’m not sure if you still do requests on One Piece characters or anything- but if you do I have a scenario in mind. I was wondering if you could do one specifically with Traflagar Law who has a S/O which gets injured and refuses his help. The S/O has a problem with accepting help and has trouble being vulnerable in front of others- only seeing it as weakness. This could also work for the other more colder One Piece characters…cause idk they just have a special place in my heart. (Though if you can’t that’s okay, but I thought I’d ask)

ALSO I read lots of your posts and absolutely love your scenarios and head-cannons, you literally portray all the characters so well and it’s amazing.

This is the cutest ask and thank you omg😭

I hope this is good🫶

And little trigger warning for descriptions of injury and blood at the beginning, I'll put a line so you know where to skip to if you don't want to read that bit.

I totally accidentally posted this so now I'm writing as it's up, forgive me😞 OKAY IT'S IN A FINISHED STATE I MAY ADD MORE AFTER I FORCE MY FRIEND TO READ OVER IT🕺🏻🕺🏻

I don't know if I'm happy with the length either i kinda feel it should be longer.

-

The soft, shlick of a blade through flesh rings in your ears. The adrenaline rushing through your body swallows any pain in an instant, but you can feel the pressure as it drags into your side and you wince anyway.

But you can't stop.

If you stop he's going to get past, he's going to hurt the people you call a family and so you can't stop.

His frame is hulking, freakishly tall and looming over you. The level of brute force he's exerting has your heart stuttering in fear, the staccato rhythm making you feel light headed. Though that could be the blood that's dripping from your side.

You hit his sternum, hard, and feel a crack. He stumbles, dazed, your fist comes up to head height and your aim is killer as it slams into the side of the man's head.

He's out cold.

The sigh of relief that exits your body almost overshadows the sudden pain resonating throughout your torso. Without an oncoming threat, you're able to take the time to lift your shirt and look at the damage. It's mostly mottled bruising but just under your lowest left rib is a long but shallow cut. Not life threatening in any way but still inconvenient.

It hurts to breathe and you're not sure if your rib bones are fully intact either, not with the way he was hitting.

The adrenaline is fading quickly, you needed to get him inside.

He'd crumpled into a very ungraceful pile when you knocked him out and it's difficult to tie him securely. But you do. And then you take a deep breath and haul him up over your shoulders in a botched fireman's lift.

Your captain would want to find out who decided it would be a good idea to send someone after the heart pirates.

Your captain would...

The last thing you think about before you hit the deck face first is him.

-

He's silent as he works.

It's almost unnerving actually, how quiet he can be when he wants to.

"Law-"

The look he shoots you is so intense that you physically shrink back, mouth closing as you drop your gaze to the floor.

He lets out a heavy sigh as he finishes disinfecting the last of his tools before he turns to you.

"What is wrong with you."

He's angry, you can feel it radiating off him, it digs into the soft underbelly of your emotions and you bristle at his words.

"I was just doing my job" Your tone is sharp but he doesn't flinch.

"Your job does not involved getting killed you idiot."

"Well I didn't get killed so it's not that big of a deal"

He looks like he's about to blow a gasket, the vein in his forehead pulsing with the renewed blood flow.

"Not a big deal? Not a big deal?"

You have the distinct feeling that you might've fucked up a little. That still doesn't stop you from digging a deeper hole to be buried in.

"I'm fine just let me deal with my own problems"

His eye actually twitches but you keep talking.

"It's barely a scratch, I don't need help- especially not yours."

The thunderous anger on his face is now accompanied by hurt, but his voice is soft when he says,

"Let me help you"

"I just said I don't need help"

"I don't think that you know what you need"

That stings. To know he doesn't trust your judgement after everything you've been through. There's a pressure at the back of your throat now and it's so uncomfortable, you need to leave.

But as you go to move, Law is much quicker as he grabs you by your upper arm, pulling you into his space.

"Where are you going"

You don't look at him.

He sighs before his other arm comes around your waist and he lifts, walking across the room to set you down onto a table.

"Why don't you understand that I care about you"

The emotion in his voice unsettles you, makes your chest feel tight and you really don't want to deal with this.

He's gentle as he gets to work on your injuries, easily cleaning and stitching up your side before moving to bind your ribs.

"I need you to remove your shirt"

Your hands are shaking, he hasn't really seen the full extent and you're sure he's not going to respond well. It's hard to get the buttons of your shirt undone so when a second pair of hands come up, you don't push them away. But him being closer means you hear the exact moment he realises how bad it is, his inhale is sharp and he says something in a language you don't know.

"Why didn't you call for backup?"

You take a while to respond, trying to squash down any emotion in your voice,

"I didn't need it"

"Did you want it?"

The question makes you squirm with discomfort, your eyes water.

"It doesn't matter because I didn't need it"

He sighs again. That's all you seem to be making him do today.

And then his arms are coming up around you, pulling you closer to the edge of the table and closer to him. One of his hands rests on your back and the other pushes your head into the crook of his shoulder, allowing you a semblance of privacy in such an intimate moment.

"You need to understand that not letting us help you is counterintuitive to being part of a crew"

The statement makes you flinch and you try to push away from him but that fight took a lot of your strength. His grip tightens anyways.

"Do you think I find it easy to be vulnerable?"

"...No"

"Do you think I would want you to die?"

You don't respond this time, chest heaving as you tremble.

"It's not easy to see you like this. You are not a human shield."

"I know" Your voice is quiet and thick with tears but he seems to relax slightly at your agreement.

The hand on your back is moving in gentle shapes, but his grip is still firm, as if he's trying to affirm that you're here and alive.

"I can't have a crew member that doesn't trust anyone"

You tense.

"I can't have a partner that won't be vulnerable with me"

Guilt and dread roll through your stomach. Surely he doesn't mean-

"I can't trust that you won't die because you feel can't rely on others so you're benched until we work through it"

Oh. You actually feel a bit relieved, you thought he was going in a much different direction. You lean back out of his hold so you can look at his face through wet eyes.

His expression is soft but he looks tired and the guilt rears it's head again.

"I'm sorry"

Somehow his expression gets even softer,

"I know"

He kisses you then. It's grounding, brings you back to a semblance of calm and you almost wonder why you were so apprehensive in the first place. He's gentle and warm and you feel slightly self conscious that your lips might be puffy from crying but you don't pull away.

It's reverent, like he worships you.

You think you could learn to let him take care of you.

You think you would let him do anything.

If it feels like this.

[a-not-so-clean-blog]

Nu carnival as a tops and bottoms. AMAB reader

Warnings: explicit language and actions. Blood mentioned 

Yakumo

Top: Service top all the way. He just wants you to be happy normally, but now he can make you happy in bed! Yeah he's going to do his absolute best! It's awkward and he doesn't really know how to do foreplay but that's okay because his moans when he slides into you sound like he's in heaven. 

Bottom: He wants nothing more than to be able to wrap his arms around you while you pound his tight hole. It doesn't take long for him to be a moaning mess. He cries a little when he cums, but that's just because the pleasure is overwhelming.

Edmond

Top: Nervous boy. Sweaty hands and heavy breathing before you even start. His military training gave him great stamina though. Just tell him what feels good and he is more than happy to follow orders.

Bottom: He cums so fast! He's really embarrassed and ashamed about how fast he came. Physically he prefers being a bottom but it hurts his ego to do so. Slow or fast, he doesn't care as long as you keep going until he's empty. 

Olivine

Top: Such a sweet boy. He would prefer if you take control and ride him but is also more than happy to fold you in any position you want. He probably won't do anything in the church, but anywhere else is fair game.

Bottom: Man has entered Nirvana. He sees you giving him so much pleasure as a spiritual experience. There's no way it could feel this good if it wasn't blessed by the god of Klein. His body is built like a tank so don't be afraid of being a little rough, he likes it that way.

Quincy

Top: He is so gentle with you. He has to be. Man is huge and if he doesn't spend a lot of time on stretching you out he will break you. He might not be very vocal but he loves making you scream in pleasure. He loves every sound that drips from your perfect mouth.

Bottom: My eyes have been opened to a whole new possibility! He's probably not very vocal but his panting is so hot. He doesn't really mind the position but if you're on top then pamper him. Let him be a pillow princess for a little bit. When you are both spent he is caging you in his arms and napping. He doesn't care about cleaning up right now.

Kuya

Top: Jerk. Yeah fine when he lets you cum it's better than anything else you have ever felt, but is it worth it to deal with his taunts and teasing? He's also really into edging you when he tops. He loves the control he has over your body. I also think he would use magic to make you more sensitive.

Bottom: Still a jerk. He's trying so hard to keep a cool demeanor and is saying shit like “you really think that's enough to make me cum”. Meanwhile you are pounding him into the mattress and he is loving it. Feel free to be rough with him too or use any of his toys, he doesn't want vanilla.

Blade

Top: He does not need rest so once he starts he will just keep going, and going, and going. You will lose count of how many times you cum and when you finally had enough he will make you cum one more time. He thinks you are so cute when you cum underneath him.

Bottom: Careful you don't make him short circuit. He was built with a lot of sensors so every time feels like the first time to him. He wants to make sure you are enjoying yourself so any position he can see your face is good for him.

Garu

Top: He will ask constantly if you are okay and if he's doing a good job. You feel so good he can't help but whimper. He keeps a hard steady pace and won't stop until he knows you're satisfied.

Bottom: Moaning mess. Greedy bottom who wants to feel more of you. Your whole dick can be balls deep and he'll still ask for you to go deeper. It's fine though, he will happily take whatever you give him.

Karu

Top: He is so excited when he gets to top you! He doesn't mean to be but he's kind of rough. You will walk away with plenty of bite marks on your neck, or really anywhere he can sink his teeth into.

Bottom: He's flustered but that only makes him cuter. When you hit his sweet spot we will rake his claws down your back. You may be the top but you're not coming out unscathed.

Dante

Top: You're cumming again? He hasn't even touched your dick yet and you're cumming. His hands are magic and unfortunately he knows it. He is so smug about it but as long as you feel this good does it really matter? He won't stop until you can't feel your legs, thankfully he's also good with aftercare. He needs to be perfect after all.

Bottom: He tries to keep a stoic face but you can hear the slight shaking in his voice and the way his eyes clouded with lust. He prefers positions where he still has some leverage but cares less about that after he cums. If you finish before him he will tease you about it.

Rei

Top: He's analytical so I think he would watch your reactions to gauge what you like. However I don't think he would use that to make you feel better. I don't know, he just seems impartial to your pleasure. Maybe he would use this knowledge if you complain about anything? 

Bottom: He will tell you exactly what he wants you to do to him. He gets annoyed if you can't follow his “simple instructions”. Again I think your pleasure is just a byproduct to him. 

Eiden

Top: He is probably the best top here. He has so much experience and will use every trick he knows to make you squirm in pleasure. He will do what's best for both of you to have a great time.

Bottom. Bliss. He's so happy to be a bottom and let you fuck him. Whether you go slow or hard or whatever he doesn't mind. To him all sex feels good and he is living his best life.

Aster

Top: He likes being in control. He doesn't even need to take his dick out most of the time to be a good top. He will take a little blood as payment for making you feel this good, the feeling makes your head spin. Hope you like tongue and teeth because he is going to taste every part of you.

Bottom: Brat. He doesn't usually let others take control of him so he's going to have to figure out fast what he likes. I think he would like if you tease him a little, but not too much. 

Morvay

Top: He can top? I can definitely see him taking control to service you but I don't think he'd be the best at fucking. His hips stutter at the slightest pleasure so his thrusts are short and unsteady. He'll make you cum in other ways but probably not with his dick 

Bottom: Yup he's happiest here. He wants to serve you. Your pleasure is literally what feeds him. If he's on his knees for you it's a good day! Any time any position, he is the best power bottom.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Their ideal partners

Silly little hcs because ive been thinking what each of the lads look for in a s/o

Slenderman;

Given I'm aiming for the "he's been observing humans for centuries and has grown used to their antics," vibe with him, I feel like he'd like someone who keeps him guessing

Nothing TOO crazy, because he can be irritable, but if you intrigue him he'll definitely stay around

Does he have any peculiar icks? Tastes?

Can't stand messy people... doesn't mind if its unorganized, or a chaotic system, but if you live in muck it's a deal breaker

Doesn't care what you look like, or what gender you are; he sees beyond that because, again, ancient being that's been watching humans for a long time.. kinda desensitized to that sort of thing

Laughing Jack;

He WANTS someone who can match his energy; but he NEEDS someone who can mellow him out

As much as I hate the "I can fix/change him" thing (well I dont HATE it, it really matters on execution and all), Jack needs someone who can make him chill out a bit

Icks? You know those people who kill the energy in a room? Like total buzzkill + downers? He doesnt like those. Not like the "he hates depressed people" way, obviously, but in the way that

Okay so idk if this is just a me thing but I come across a lot of people who do it on purpose for attention/quirkiness, those are the kinds of people he doesnt like

Like slenderman, he doesnt really care what you look like; bros gonna slip himself around you like a snake (affectionately)

Eyeless Jack;

Right off the bat he needs someone who's understanding

It ain't easy being a cursed man who's forced to eat human meat

Someone who's willing to listen to what happened to him, and help him see the brighter side of things

Basically a "storm cloud x sunshine" ship dynamic

Icks? As long as you're not too chaotic or hyper he's fine with it; Jack is more quiet and reserved energy wise, stress tends to make the curses symptoms worse

Prefers short people; he himself is also short (I hc hes about 5'5), and he's a lil insecure, but he's not totally opposed to dating taller people

Masky;

Writing for specifically masky for this one instead of the usual tim, hope that's alright!! I just wanna flesh out him n hoodie more

Bro is kinda..... whouf... rough around the edges; kinda feral

Not like FERAL feral, but this is the kind of dude who tunnels on someone during his work and wont be afraid to body slam into stuff full speed/force

So naturally, he gets hurt a lot. So a caring and soft partner is an immediate go to; especially since in my hc/au tim still exists, just as a different.. persona? Headspace? I really dont know the correct terms <\3

He likes observing as well, but he'll occasionally join in on whatever activity you're doing!!

Icks? Loud people... I would say spontaneous people as well, but considering my take on him, he kinda falls into a softcore version of that category

Hoodie;

Very similar to masky, but also not... between the two hes more.. calm and calculating; whereas Masky tends to dive straight in, in most cases

Should not that neither of them verbally speak; so they both need a partner who's fine with physical touch since that's one of their main ways of communicating/showing affection

Especially with hoodie; dude always has a hand on you and guiding you in some way

Unlike all the others, hoodie does not have ANY preferences for partners. Doesn't matter the personality, body type, and he doesnt have many icks

Like

Probably doesnt like arrogance, kinda just annoys him.... but hey, makes his.. job.. easier

[ohmygraves]

Hello, this is my first time jump into someone's ask box. May i have a request Gaz or any TF141 men you think would fit with reader who has big bruises on their body (they got it from mission or simply after training) but reader choose to hide it and tend the bruises by them selves. The man found this out by accident when they're changing clothes or whatever scenario you would put up. It's a bit angst but with a lot of comfort afterwards. You may ignore this if you feel uncomfortable with this trope..

Sincerely

Anon from Indonesia UTC+8

hello anon, thank you so much for requesting! i feel like they all would be concerned if the reader got hurt but refused to go get it checked with the medics (⁠ ⁠･ั⁠﹏⁠･ั⁠) so i will try to write some bits for all of them 💖 i hope you like it, sorry it took so long!

you got hurt on the last mission you went to with gaz.

you, captain price, and the sergeant were on the comms line together. you're in charge of backing up kyle when he infiltrates the building, and was talking with laswell and price. some dumb jokes, catching up with the station chief, stuff like that. the mission had been slow, and you're getting bored staying out there alone glued to the scope.

looking back, you probably shouldn't have joined in on the banter. you completely missed an enemy ambushing you from behind, and had lost communications for a few minutes as you got slammed against a huge boulder, tossed around by the man who attacked you. it was a miracle you got back in one piece, only bruised and some small cuts after the scuffle. you were lucky, so lucky that you're not sure if this were to happen again, you'd probably not going to be able to return at all.

you noticed how kyle, price and laswell was worried during your disappearance from the comms line, especially since kyle kept calling for you a few times and you wouldn't answer. after you shot the man down, you brushed off your clothes and returned to your post, apologizing to everyone and explaining what had happened. you assured everything is fine, and that you're okay and can still keep going. you didn't bleed out or anything.

oh, how wrong you were.

as you sat on the exfil vehicle together with price and gaz, you're starting to feel sore. the adrenaline coursing through your veins must've dulled the pain earlier, and now that it's gone down, you're feeling the pain.

honestly, pain might be an understatement, because you feel like you just got hit by a car.

god, your body hurts. every inch of your body feels like it's screaming for mercy. you're sure that bruises are forming somewhere under your clothes, but you honestly can't be bothered to even go to the medic for this. not when kyle is bleeding beside you and price is stressed because the target escaped.

it's fine, you can deal with it later. frozen peas and some painkillers will do the job.

you didn't realize that someone did notice how you're nearly limping around to go catch up with price for a debriefing...

john price

he'd noticed that you were hurt after you returned his calls on the comms, just after you finished shooting the guy who messed you up on the field. although, he was too occupied to even press you more about it, deciding to trust you that everything is fine on your end. thankfully, you did returned to the helo in one piece, which eases his mind.

still, he couldn't help but notice how off you're walking to his office, wincing slightly as you take each step. something must've happened back then when you were cut off from comms, and he needs to know. he quickly finished debriefing and dismissed everyone else, but told you to stay behind.

you feel your bones creak every time you move, even if that doesn't seem physically possible.

"are you sure you're okay?" price asked you, crossing his arms over his chest as he examined you top to bottom, "you're limping quite awfully, doll."

"'m fine, captain... gonna go check on kyle..." you replied curtly, not wanting him to make a big deal out of it. it's just a couple of bruises, nothing bad surely.

"get it checked with the medics. and i'll know if you don't." he sighed, "i know you think you can fix it yourself, but you should get it checked either way. you may be able to fix some scrapes, but you'll need to see if you broke any ribs or not."

"but—"

"it's an order, soldier," price snapped, "no ifs or buts."

you didn't say anything, simply nodding and turned back to leave his office. you might actually do it, given how sore your body feels right now. you didn't hear that price approached you, holding your hand over the doorknob. his eyes looked closer to examine you, his free hand moving to caress your cheek, his thumb wiping off the dirt on your face.

"take care of yourself, love. please."

"i'll try, captain..."

"good. that's all i asked."

simon "ghost" riley

you decided that you want to take a shower before going to see kyle at the infirmary.

he was bleeding a lot, it might take a while to see him anyway. and you were rolling around on mud that whole mission, you feel like you were covered in dirt from head to toe. gross.

the communal shower is just a few meters away anyway.

you took a small detour to your room to grab a change of clothes, thankful that you prepared it in advance. grabbing a cargo pants and a pair of clean t-shirt, you walked into the communal shower at the base, taking off your dirty clothes and setting it aside. it'll be cleaner if you wash them yourself.

changing was hard, your arms feel like it's so sore that it's about to fall off, and not to mention you can't even move freely. maybe price was right, you broke a rib because your chest is hurting slightly when you try to pull your dirty t-shirt over your head.

"what the hell happened t'ya?"

a rough voice called out to you as you heard someone stepped closer. you glanced to see who it was as you struggled to take off your clothes, seeing the familiar mask over the face and a bare, scarred chest. oh, it's just ghost.

"ya looked like a bruised apple."

you laughed, knowing how much your body hurts right now, you kind of feel like one too.

"got thrown around during the mission with gaz and the captain," you replied, trying to wrestle your t-shirt out over your head still as you wince slightly, "just... god, no big deal, really... gaz got shot..."

ghost hummed, nodding slightly as he sees you struggling to undress. "need help?" he asked, eyeing your bruises under the t-shirt peeking out while you try to peel off the fabric off of your body.

"please do, i'm losing my mind..."

"guess someone needs t'see medic after this..."

you rolled your eyes as ghost yanked the shirt off of your body in one swoop, making you groan and hiss at the sharp pain you felt. clearly he wasn't gentle enough.

"sorry," ghost apologized. you didn't really mind, brushing it off as you kicked off your boots and pants down, throwing it somewhere in the room.

"i'll live... thanks, ghost."

he nodded, giving your head a small pat as he turned around to his own locker, his fingers messing your hair up. "don't act tough, go see the medic after this."

you didn't want to tell him that you liked that he patted you on the head, so you grumbled up a response, pouting. "yeah, yeah... you're such a worrywart."

"i mean it. those bruises are messed up."

"i know, i know... geez."

ghost shook his head as he patted your head again, a little more roughly this time, messing your hair as he got dressed and left the communal shower.

john "soap" mactavish

the moment the water hits you, you couldn't help but groan out in pain. you weren't expecting hot water or anything, but at least not something that would literally freeze your arse up. you weren't sure if cold water is better since you're far too distracted from the pain by how cold your fingertips are.

you wondered if there's any way you could get some hot water, most of the time it's always broken.

your fingers started messing with the dial, fumbling as you tried to dodge the cold water hitting those sore spots on your body.

"jesus wit happened to ye, bonnie?"

you turned around seeing soap in his naked glory, somehow. having seen everyone naked at this point, you didn't care enough to mention it. it's the shower anyway.

"got smacked across the face by the enemy earlier on mission."

"yer like a bruised pear."

you shrugged it off, "lt said apple earlier, but same difference i suppose."

he chuckled, looking at what you were doing. he didn't say anything, simply moving to adjust the water for you. after fiddling for a while, he managed to find a good enough temperature that you could enjoy.

"need help, bonnie?"

"'m good, soap. you should go see gaz."

he didn't fight you, simply giving you some head pats, chuckling when he sees your pouting face. sometimes you feel like he's treating you like a kid or like a younger sibling... well, until he gave your butt a squeeze anyway.

"ow! soap!" you yelped in pain, knowing that a bruise has formed there too. soap laughed, giving it a small pat as he teased you again.

"careful, bonnie. can't get our star all bruised now~"

you rolled your eyes, sticking your tongue at him as he walked out of the communal shower.

kyle "gaz" garrick

after taking about an hour on your "quick shower", you get changed and decide to go see gaz in medbay. knowing that he got shot made you feel awful, so you just want to see if he's okay. you're sure he's fine, but he's going to keep bitching about it for weeks.

you made your way to the medbay, seeing if you could visit kyle. he was on the bed, pouting, so you decided to walk in and sit by his bedside.

"hey, you okay?" you asked him, seeing how he's wrapped in bandages.

"have a few extra holes on me, but i'd say i'm feeling better... you?" gaz let out a sigh as he looked at you, noticing the way you sit uncomfortably on the chair because of your bruises.

"i'll live."

"they got you too, huh?" gaz sighed, looking disappointed at you, "i'll call the medics."

you didn't want to bother him, so you tried to stop him.

"what? you're hurt. just because it's bruises doesn't mean that you can just brush it off." gaz shakes his head, taking your hand in his. "i don't like seeing you get hurt."

that made you blush, your heart thumping as kyle called for the medics to check on you too. you could feel his hand on yours, thumbs caressing the back of your hand as medics approached you.

[missredherring]

M.P. + "I can't believe you're this innocent."

Marcus Pike x GN!Reader

Rating: PG

Word Count: 481

Contents: mentions of sex. propositioning Marcus for sex/fwb. Reader is generally inexperienced in relationships.

A/N: When the wheel of destiny paired these two up I wasn't sure I could even write it because the prompt sounded so condescending in my mind! How could our Marcus say that?

But then I was talking with @psychedelic-ink about the friends with benefits trope that usually ends up in feelings at the end, and what if the person being asked for that situation knew what would happen from the start? It made this prompt with Marcus work.

Not beta'd. Any mistakes are my own.

Summary: "I can't believe you're this innocent."

Series Masterlist

You’re proud that you got through the entire speech(suggestion? proposition?) without forgetting any of the important points from the list you’d written up.

A friends-with-benefits agreement seems like a great idea. Very adult, and there isn’t anyone you wanted or trusted more than Marcus. But his face is dropping and he’s taking a step away, hands halfway up his sides like he doesn’t know what to do with them before going to his hips.

“I can’t believe you’re this innocent.” 

It’s quiet, said more to himself than to you, but you’re so tuned into him that you hear it clearly. And it hurts. A sharp pang in your chest followed by your stomach dropping into your guts. It hurts; the frown on his face and how he isn’t meeting your eyes anymore, he’s turning his body away from you like he can’t wait to put you and you apparently horrible suggestion behind him.

Maybe he’s right, because all you want to do right now is run away instead of holding your ground and finishing this conversation. Circulation has caught up with your emotions and now your face is hot enough to fry all that egg on it. You can feel the tears stinging behind your eyes, but you force yourself to say something. You’re adult enough to proposition him for this, so you’ll be adult enough to deal with the fallout. 

“That’s the point isn’t it?” You cross your arms over your chest. “So this way I can get some experience with someone I trust not to screw me over in a way I won’t like and you can break your dry spell. You were just complaining to Smith about it last week.”

Marcus swings back around to you, the frown still on his pretty mouth. It’s weird to see this expression directed at you.

“I told Smith that because that’s the answer guys like him want to hear,” He side steps you to put his desk between you and shuffles through a stack of folders. He finds the one he’s looking for and taps it on the top of the stack while he thinks. “I’m glad you felt you could come to me for this, I really am, but I can’t be that guy for you. I think- I hope you know me well enough by now to know it wouldn’t be just physical with me.”

He sets the file folder down gently on the desktop and leans on the surface, letting his head hang between his shoulders and sighing. 

“This isn’t how I was planning on talking to you about this,” He tells his desk and finally meets your eyes again. There’s some kind of emotion you can’t place there, shining at you. “I can’t do this because I’ll fall in love with you.”

His frown is turning into a small hopeful smile now. “I’m already halfway there.”

[adore-laur]

YOU MAKE IT FEEL LIKE CHRISTMAS

— a holiday addition to the dadrry universe 🎄

❅ ❅ ❅

Red wine is an elixir of reminiscence.

As twilight fades into dusk, you let the velvety Cabernet Sauvignon warm your bloodstream and bring forth memories of the festive seasons gone by. Childhood recollections of sneaking down the hallway before sunrise, captivated by the magical scene made by the plump man who somehow slid down the chimney. Wrapping presents galore while sitting by the twinkling evergreen, the stacks piling higher and higher each year. Baking desserts and listening to Christmas music, the scent of gingerbread mingling with the seaside air. All those moments were nostalgia happening in real-time, engulfing you until they unraveled like a ribbon box of wistfulness.

You're lost in a blissful reverie while watching Harry swiftly round the kitchen island. He's eating the last half of a frosted cookie and untucking his black henley from his sweatpants.

"You've gone quiet on me," he says while chewing, his fist raised to his mouth.

Your vision breaks away from him and refocuses on the entrancing flames in the fireplace. "Just thinking."

"'Bout what?" he asks, reclaiming his glass of wine that he abandoned on the mantle shelf.

"How this will be our eighth Christmas together."

He whistles in a decrescendo and sits next to you. "Really? How are you not sick of me yet?"

"Trust me, you push the limit sometimes."

"Only because I love you."

You roll your eyes affectionately, then say, "I was also thinking about how emotional I'll be tomorrow."

Harry smiles as he begins soothingly rubbing your back. "You always get emotional on Christmas."

At the mere thought of it, you flatten your lips and look at him miserably. The childlike wonder you'll get to witness is nothing to shed tears over, yet you can't help but know you'll feel the pitiful pull on your maternal heartstrings.

"I'm a mess," you say defeatedly.

"No, no, no. Come here and give me a hug." He instinctively reaches for your hand and tugs you toward him. "Bring it in."

You clumsily situate yourself in his lap and curl into his warm body. Your muscles relax, but the tears still spill over. It's irrevocable.

"Why are you crying?" Harry croons, propping his chin on your head and swaying you consolingly. "Hmm? You break my heart when you cry."

Sniffling, you bury your face into his chest and mumble, "She's growing up too fast."

His throat bobs. "I know. It hurts me too."

"But it hurts, like, deep in my soul. Sometimes I physically feel the ache when I look at her."

"She's three." The featherlight touch of his fingertips trails up and down your spine. "That's still young, yeah? And don't forget, we've got a new little baby."

"She's our firstborn, though," you say mournfully, staring at him. You remember exactly what it felt like to hold her for the first time. She changed everything for us. It feels like it was just yesterday when we brought her home, and now she's walking around and doing things all by herself. Where did the time go?"

"I don't have the answer to that, sweetheart," Harry replies, his eyes darting over your distraught face. "Time goes by too quickly."

"She starts preschool next year." You shake your head in disbelief and gape at him incredulously. "Harry, do you hear me? Preschool."

"I hear you." He looks genuinely concerned as he shifts his legs in order to hold you better, cradling the sides of your head to stop it from shaking. It's smart of him to do so since the wine is making you a bit dizzy. "Hey, I hear you. Always. We'll cry in the car together when we drop her off on her first day, deal? Right now, let's focus on tonight and enjoy Christmas Eve. Let's watch our babies grow one day at a time."

More tears sting your eyes and nose like a thousand tiny bees. "Do you feel it when you look at her?"

His features turn sad, yet a ghost of a smile still appears. "Of course," he whispers. "It's embarrassing the number of times I've teared up just from watching her simply exist."

"You know what always gets me?" you ask thoughtfully. A tender kiss is planted on your forehead as encouragement to continue. "When she brings you seashells. It kills me every time."

The corner of his mouth twitches. "I hope she never stops doing that. It melts my heart."

"She's so sweet. We're raising such a beautiful girl."

"Two beautiful girls."

You pout, feeling overwhelmingly sentimental. "I want to wake them up and snuggle with them."

"Don't," he says with a wary laugh, "or they'll be cranky little devils tomorrow morning."

"I love waking them up, though."

"So do I," he agrees in a way so sincere that it makes you even more emotional. "Although tomorrow we'll be the ones woken up first."

You sigh dreamily. "That's true. I love it when they open their sleepy eyes, and the first thing they see is me. And then they smile."

To provide your children with a sense of happiness, even if they're not fully conscious of it yet, is the greatest gift you could ever possess.

"Being their first smile of the day," Harry says softly, "is what being a parent is all about, you know? Getting to see their faces look more and more like yours each day. Hearing them laugh and holding them in my arms. I always think to myself how fuckin' lucky I am to be their dad."

Letting a teardrop fall, you finally succumb to the wine-drunk dramatics. "They love you so much."

It's his turn for his eyes to sparkle with tears. "They're my girls. My best friends."

"You are everything to them. The way they look at you and listen to every word you speak is so amazing. I can't think of anything quite like it."

Tracing the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone, Harry says, "They have my favorite parts of your face. When they smile, their eyes shape and light up the same way yours do." He hums thoughtfully and dances his gaze around your features. "Got their mom's nose, too."

You wipe your tears and take a sip of wine, letting him continue admiring you like a work of art in the Louvre. You do the same to him, obsessed with how the light from the flames flickers over his skin. Your lucky stars are definitely out tonight.

"I want you to get gray hair," you blurt, not even realizing what you said until Harry retracts his head with a bewildered expression.

"I beg your pardon?" he asks through a shocked laugh, reaching for his wine glass. "I'm only thirty-two! Good grief, woman."

Shrugging, you imagine the inevitable physical change. Maybe the one curly strand of hair that always falls over his forehead will start to lighten into an ash color. Or perhaps it'll start with his stubble turning a salt and pepper two-tone. Either way, you know you'll be all over him when it happens.

"It'd be hot, just saying."

"You're a dirty liar," he murmurs around the rim of his glass, his voice slightly muffled.

"A dad I'd like to fuck is what you are. Sue me."

Harry smirks gradually, his lips stained with a delectable shade of scarlet. "What," he enunciates slowly, "has gotten into you tonight?"

"Nothing," you say coyly. "You're just really attractive when you drink wine."

His pupils appear darker and more dilated as he intensely stares at you. His cheeks are tinted with a flush due to the alcohol. Whenever they draw up in a smile, his dimples emerge, and he's genuinely never looked more kissable. Because his mouth... oh, his mouth.

When Harry sets his wine down and finally lingers it near your ear, his berry-scented breath sending shivers across your entire body, you're his entirely. He then speaks in a drawl that makes you tighten your legs around his waist. "I think this wine has gone from here"—he hovers his fingers over your stomach and then trails them up to your temple, tapping twice—"to here."

You swallow a noise of desperation. "I want you to kiss me."

Nipping your earlobe, he asks, "Where, baby?"

"Your choice."

"Sure about that?"

"Yes. Don't test my patience."

He doesn't say anything and promptly lays you down on your back, the carpet providing cushioning as your husband hovers over you with his hands placed on either side of your dizzy head. The room spins, but all you focus on is him.

He takes his time and leaves slow, practiced kisses on your lips, coaxing them open with his wine-flavored tongue. It's as clear as day that he's never lost his temptation. If anything, it's grown now that he knows how to get specific reactions out of you. If he nudges his nose against yours, you'll take control of his mouth. If he reaches for your ankle, you'll spread your legs further apart. If he walks his fingers down your inner thigh, well, you won't hesitate to flip positions.

Eight years with him prove he knows every instinct of your body like no one else does.

"Harry, we can't," you say when he starts rocking his hips. "I'm not cleared yet."

He stops and groans against your shoulder. "Fuck."

The doctor hasn't given you the green light to have sex again since giving birth a month ago. If you're being completely honest, you're almost dreading when it'll finally happen because of how it felt after having your first child. It wasn't pleasurable, it didn't last long, and you weren't feeling the best about your postpartum appearance. Harry had been gracious and attentive, but, for lack of better words, it sucked.

"Did I ruin the moment?" you ask, your skin prickly with embarrassment.

"No," Harry breathes out. "Hell no. Look at you, baby. I'm unbelievably hard right now."

"Should we... can we—"

"We can just do foreplay if that's what you're asking. It's completely up to you."

Your tipsy brain thinks of one thing and one thing only. "Thigh."

His eyebrows twitch as he licks the corner of his mouth. "Hmm? You're mumbling."

"Thigh," you utter again.

"My what? I can't hear you over the fire."

"Harry," you grit out impatiently. "You know what I'm saying. Please, before the mood is actually ruined."

"You wanna ride it?" he asks for confirmation.

"Yes. Now shut up."

"We have to be quiet, darling."

"I can be quiet. Can you be quiet?"

"With you on my lap? Probably not."

Looking up at the ceiling and taking a calming breath, you say, "This is so risky. I hate you."

Harry tuts. "Why do you hate me?"

"Because you're so..." you trail off, searching for the right word. "So alluring all the time. And I can't help myself when you look at me like you do. It's aggravating."

"Personally, I think it's just your hormones talking." He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. "The baby monitor is on the couch, love, so don't worry. We'll make this nice and quick."

"Fine. Okay."

He stretches his legs out while you position yourself over his thigh. Your underwear is already damp as you begin slowly grinding over the thick muscle. He's hard under his sweatpants—a sight you've missed seeing and being able to do something about it. His hands latch onto your waist to guide your movements, and he moans as his whole body shudders from the first sexually intimate contact he's had with you in a month.

"Someone's got an appetite tonight," he says proudly. "It's okay, so do I. But we gotta be quiet."

A salacious thrill runs down your spine because of his determination to get you off. As you use his thigh and grip his shoulders, the fire beside you heats your already ignited body. He searches for your lips, his skin glowing, eyebrows pinched with pleasure. His broad chest provides support as you lean into him, feeling the pulse of your forthcoming orgasm grow stronger. You need it desperately. You're attempting to keep any noises from escaping, but it's been so insufferably long since you've felt him this way. Moans, whimpers, and panted breaths unabashedly break loose.

"Look at me," Harry says lowly. "What did I say? Do I need to cover your mouth?"

"You're making noise too! Don't—"

His large palm covers the lower half of your face, cutting off your sentence. "What did I say?" he repeats.

You roll your eyes and continue circling your hips over him to offer some relief. "I'm almost there," you mumble against his hand. "I'm close."

"I'm so gone for you," he murmurs, removing his hand and kissing your neck. "You're something else, do you know that? Gonna make a mess on my lap?"

You whine into his mouth. "Yeah. Do the thing."

Harry purposefully flexes his thigh muscle, the movement putting heavenly pressure on your clit. It does the trick, and you come as he stifles your moans so no innocent ears hear, his own groans muffled as you kiss through the climax.

"I missed doing this with you," you whisper, grinding against him one last time.

"I know." He grunts, his body stilling. "I know, honey."

"And I love you. You're so good to me and our family."

"We're perfect together, aren't we?"

"So fucking perfect," you say as your eyes flutter shut. Every breath you take is heavy, and your lungs fill with pure contentment.

"Let's get you cleaned up." He hooks your legs around his waist, and his elbow accidentally knocks over his wine glass. Dark red liquid pools on the hearth, the dying fire reflecting off it. "Shit. Goddamnit."

"Harry," you groan as he clumsily untangles himself from you and jogs to the kitchen.

❅ ❅ ❅

Your eyes shoot open when a startling noise resounds in the pitch-black bedroom. It doesn't register until your mind slowly fades into consciousness and you realize it's Harry's ringtone.

The bedside clock displays 5:39 a.m. It's Christmas morning. Who in the world is calling so early?

You remain still until Harry is eventually woken up by it. The mattress creaks as he stands and takes his phone to the master bathroom. You turn the bedside lamp on, and after five minutes of incoherent mumbling coming through the cracked door, he shuffles out with a crease between his eyebrows.

"Who was that?" you ask sleepily while stretching your legs under the covers.

Harry silently paces before saying, "My boss."

You yawn and rub your bleary eyes, then lean against the headboard. "Wishing you a Merry Christmas? That's nice of him."

"No," he replies in his husky morning voice, blankly staring at the wall behind you. "He, uh... he asked me if I could come to work today."

Silence pierces the atmosphere for several seconds before you finally ask, "What?"

"Three people have called out already."

You whip your head toward the clock. "It's not even six yet."

"Tell me about it," he says with zero emotion. I don't even know what to say. I told him I'd call him back once I've woken up a bit more."

Harry is most prone to being grumpy in the mornings. You hate that he's in a sour mood before the sun has even risen.

"Just tell him you're not going to. We'll get jumped on in less than an hour to open presents."

He runs a heavy hand down his face, stopping it under his lips. "It would only be for the first half of the day. I can make it back home for presents in the afternoon."

"What are you talking about?" Either he's sleepwalking, or he's gone mad. Maybe you're having a bad dream. "Christmas is an all-day thing, Harry. It always has been."

He struggles with words before saying, "My work relies on me. I need you to understand that."

Now you're wide awake with irritation. "Are you joking? You're on paternity leave. Never in a million years would I have thought you'd put work before your family."

The first nerve is struck, and it's written all over Harry's face.

"That's such a fuckin' low blow, and you know it," he says angrily. "I have always, always put our family first."

"You're sure as hell not doing it now!" You throw your arms out to the side and get out of bed.

"You're starting an argument on Christmas? Really?"

"Yeah, I am," you reply pettily.

Harry towers over you with a clenched jaw, pointing at his chest. "I demoted myself so I could be with my family more."

"Oh, don't you dare pull that card on me."

"I'm not pulling a card on you! I'm defending myself for crying out loud!"

"Lower your voice," you hiss at him. "Our daughter doesn't need to be more upset than she already will be when she finds out her dad isn't home on Christmas morning."

You struck below the belt, and now he's wounded.

Harry's stoic expression crumbles into one of devastation, his shoulders sagging with undeniable hurt. "Can you just listen to me?" His tone wavers with emotion. You immediately lower your defenses and swallow down guilt. "Please," he adds quietly. "I hate arguing with you. I hate it so much."

"I'm sorry," you choke out, hiding your face in your palms. "I didn't mean it."

Strong arms wrap around you, his hands spreading on your back. "I know you didn't mean it. We both need to calm down, okay? Can we sit?"

You nod and mumble, "Sure."

He lowers you to the floor and says, "Let's just talk this through. Tell me we're okay. Tell me it's just holiday stress getting to us."

Your head starts to pound from how deep your eyebrows plunge. "Why are you speaking like that? We're fine."

Harry's tired eyes bore into yours. "Because we're saying hurtful things, and the thought of losing you is unbearable."

"You're not losing me. I'm allowed to be frustrated."

"Then please let me know what's going on in your mind. I always have to remind you to talk to me; otherwise, nothing gets resolved."

"I already told you," you say while playing with the knotted string on his pajama pants. "I don't like how you're considering going to work instead of being here. That hurts my feelings."

Harry kisses your face and murmurs, "I'm sorry, love. It's early, and I'm in a weird headspace. It's all that damn wine we drank last night."

"Do you have a headache?"

"A brutal one."

You rub your temples. "Same here."

"Listen," he says, "I'm halfway through my paternity leave, so I think a part of me feels guilty for refusing to go in, considering I haven't worked the past month."

"I get that, but can you understand where I'm coming from?" you ask, still being showered with his tender morning kisses. "Any other day, I'd be fine with it, but it's our baby's first Christmas. Look me in the eye and tell me you'd seriously rather be at work preparing food for rich people who need to dine out for the holidays."

"You know I'd rather be here. I always want to be here with you guys."

"Then call your boss and say you're not coming in. You can't always be a yes-man. Otherwise, you'll get walked over."

"Am I really a yes-man?"

"Sometimes."

He slumps against you. "I don't want you to think I don't fight for our family."

You frown. "I don't think that. I will never forget when you demoted yourself. Yes, I was furious when you first told me, but then I realized how important it is for you to be present and bond with your children."

"I'll call my boss and tell him no." He hugs you and gives you a sweet smile. "Only if you promise you're not mad at me."

"I'm not mad," you say, fondly pinching his cheek. "Now get your butt up and bring me some Advil."

He gestures a salute. "Yes, ma'am."

❅ ❅ ❅

You're woken up again, this time by a slight pressure on your legs and two little hands shaking your shoulders.

"Santa came! Mama, Santa came!"

"Shh, shh, shh." You hush her lisped voice as you open your eyes. It takes a minute to become aware of your surroundings, and you eventually see Harry passed out on the bed by your feet, wrapped in his white robe and lying on his back as he sleeps. After your talk, he took a shower to clear his head, and he must have fallen asleep again.

"Can you wait until I get your sister up?" you whisper. "Then you can jump on Dad."

She nods, her messy curls bouncing every which way. You quietly get up and wander down the hallway toward the nursery. Surprisingly, your baby girl only cried twice throughout the night.

Once her diaper is changed and she's dressed in a festive onesie, you return to the bedroom with her cradled in your arms. You're greeted with a barely awake Harry, who is trying to tame the wild beast. Playful growls, followed by shrieking laughter, echo off the walls. You could've guessed that she wouldn't listen.

His eyes instantly soften when he sees you holding his new favorite person. "Why is your little nose all red?" he says to her. "You look like Rudolph."

You pass her over before sitting on the edge of the bed. "She loves untucking her arms from the swaddle at night, so she gets cold. She's an escape artist."

"A cute escape artist," he says, looking down at his girl. "Look how cute you are. I'm gonna eat your cheeks. I'm gonna do it!" He pretends to munch on her chubby cheeks until her happy noises fill the room.

After thirty minutes of warm snuggles in bed and letting the sunrise peek through the curtains, everyone eventually gathers in the living room to start the day. Harry, now in a much better mood, immediately goes into full dad mode so that everything runs smoothly and no one is crabby on Christmas.

"What can I make my lovely wife for breakfast?" he asks, dressed in jeans and a red knitted sweater.

"French toast and eggs, please," you answer, feeding the baby in your lap a bottle. She has a little Santa hat on. "Can you grab me the burp cloth?"

"Got it." He turns to his daughter, who's watching cartoons on TV. "Lovebug. Come here for a second."

She gallops over to him, and he swoops her up to set her on his hip. "Hi," she says.

"Hi, sweetheart," he says while fixing her loose socks. "Dad needs your breakfast order."

"Reindeer pancake!"

"And?"

"Juice!"

"And?"

She hums, thinking long and hard. "Cookie!"

"Uh-oh." Harry gasps, looking at her with wide eyes. "Haven't you heard? Santa ate all the cookies!"

Her face drops. "Why?"

"We left them out for him, remember?"

"But… but why?"

"Because that's the spirit of Christmas." He kisses her cheek and then sets her down. "Go organize the presents while I make breakfast, okay? No peeking. Behave."

Once the family has full bellies and excited smiles, it's time to open presents. Everyone has their respective piles stacked in front of their feet, some from under the tree, some from the four stockings hanging on the mantle. It's crazy to think there used to only be two there.

"Who's going first?" Harry asks with a steaming mug of tea in his hands. He sits beside you on the couch and carefully slides the portable bassinet closer. Her Christmas plans include getting milk drunk and sleeping all day.

"Me!" says your daughter, crawling into his lap.

"All right. Pick a good one, little lady."

She chooses a rectangular box from the top of her stack. "That's one you need to open with your dad," you tell her. "Harry, open yours that has the same wrapping paper."

He grabs an identical-looking present and helps tear open both boxes. After pulling out the tissue paper, he picks up a pair of white aprons, one big and one small, with ladybugs stitched to the fronts. You tried and failed to find ones that said lovebug, but you figured the sentiment would be appreciated.

"A ladybug!"

You take a candid picture of her with your phone. "I know, baby. You and Dad can match when you cook together."

Harry squeezes your shoulder and whispers, "Thank you."

It's your turn next, and you choose a gift from Harry. You open a small box that contains a gift card to a local spa establishment.

"You deserve a day without me or the kids," he says softly. "I'm forcing you to not be a mom for a day."

You look at him while holding the card to your chest. "Thank you so much."

"Word on the street is that they give better massages than I do."

"Well, they've got some tough competition."

Harry laughs and kisses your cheek, then picks out a gift you've been waiting for weeks to give him. He didn't ask for it, but you like to surprise him. He unwraps it with a giddy smile, eventually pulling out two picture frames crafted from an assortment of seashells.

"I made them using the shells she's brought you over the years," you explain. "I hope you don't mind."

Harry runs a hand over his mouth as his eyes dance over the two pictures. One of them is from when his baby girl was born a mere month ago—the two of you sat in the birthing tub with him staring at you with a breathtaking smile after she clung to him. The other picture is from the day his first daughter was born—him sitting in the hospital bed while holding her with his forehead resting against hers, his hands almost taking up her entire body.

"That's you, lovebug," he says to her while pointing at the picture. "Look at how tiny you were. You changed my life that day and made me the happiest person in the whole wide world."

"Me?" she asks curiously.

He taps her nose. "Mm-hmm. And look at you now. All grown up."

"Do I still make you the happiest in the whole wide world?"

"Every single day. We're each other's first smiles forever, right?"

She nods delightedly. "Yeah."

Harry hugs her tightly and then glances over at you, doing a double-take when you bring your knees to your chest and inhale deeply. "Are you going to cry?" he teases with a smirk.

"No," you reply unconvincingly, clearing your throat and not-so-subtly wiping the corners of your eyes. "Okay, who's next?"

After a bunch more presents are unwrapped and toys and sparkly bows are scattered on the carpet, there's only one box under the tree with no name.

Harry crawls over and grabs it. "This," he says theatrically while standing, "is for all of us. Let's have mommy do the honors."

The box is set in your lap, and Harry stands before you, bending forward to place his hands on your thighs.

"You're way too close to me right now," you tell him.

He glances up at you through his eyelashes. "I need to gauge your reaction."

You roll your eyes and begin tearing the tape on the box's seal. Once you open it, your heart skips a beat when you see four plane tickets sitting on a bed of sand.

"Surprise," he whispers.

Mouth agape, you take them out and flip them over to read the tags attached.

Your tag reads: For my wife. Italy the first time made us fall in love all over again. Let's do it a second time.

Your eldest daughter's tag reads: For my lovebug. I'll buy you all the raspberry gelato and ciabatta bread you want. I'll even throw a lasso around the Italian moon for you to keep.

Your newborn's tag reads: For my baby girl. I'll show you the sea that emulates your beauty. You'll show me how lucky I am to hold and love you.

In all your years of knowing him, you don't think he's ever done something more romantic than the scrawly ink attached to a gift from a memory so dear to him.

"We're seriously going back to Italy?"

He crouches and squeezes your thigh. "End of July."

Your daughter doesn't quite understand the significance of what's happening since she was small when the family last went, but she's smiling as she absentmindedly sifts her hands through the sand.

You lean forward and give Harry a hug. "You're so perfect. Thank you. I can't wait."

"You're welcome. Come with me for a second," he murmurs in your ear. He heads to the kitchen and quickly dumps the rest of his cold tea into the sink.

You follow him into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly cracked. Harry flicks on the light and then stands in front of you. "You," he emphasizes while cradling your cheeks, "are the fuckin' love of my life."

You accept his fervent kisses and mumble against his mouth, "Did you like the seashells?"

"Are you kidding?" He kisses you once more. "I almost lost my composure out there."

"See? I'm not the only one who gets emotional."

"I love you so much," he says, soft and sincere. "This will be the best trip of our lives."

You admire his bright eyes and dimpled smile. "I'm so glad you stayed home. You make it feel like Christmas."

❅ ❅ ❅

[madreemeritus]

A small analysis of Angel Dust's character (tw: SA, abusive relantionships, drug addiction, coping mechanism, also spoilers of the series)

Today is Angel Dust's birthday, he's my favorite Hazbin Hotel character and became one of my fave characters ever recently, he's being my new brainrot so I decided to write about his amazing character. Oh and English isn't my first language so forgive me for any mistake.

Ok now the first thing needed is to recognize Angel's (Anthony) situation. Anthony was born in the 1910s and died in 1947, with 30 years old, he was the son of a mafia leader and a homosexual man that needed to hide and opress his own sexuality, or else he'd be, at best, killed (if not worse). When he arrived Hell, he found to himself a taste of freedom that he could never experience in his life. I'm not sure about how many years he's been in the Val situation because Valentino died in the 1970s, but either way, he signed a soul contract with Valentino and now his soul belongs to him. The worst thing about his situation is that he was much probably in love with Val and was manipulated by him to sign the contract, it's really heartbreaking to think about it.

Although we don't know the exact circumstances that lead Angel to sign the contract (if he knew or not knew he was getting into porn, if Val lied to him, etc), we do know that he didn't expect to have the life he has at the moment. Angel is, in simple words, a sexual slave. Valentino abuses him mentally, physically, emotionally and mainly, sexually. He forces Angel to do uncomfortable, painful things in the studio, perform extra hours without any human condition or even a raise, and also demands sex and affection from him. Angel can't say no, he is coerced and afraid to go against Valentino's wishes. Valentino also uses a disturbing form of emotional abuse, lovebombing Angel after assaulting and abusing him, all to remain his control over Angel. Val tries to isolate Angel from everyone else and bursts in anger once Angel moves to the hotel, after all their deal says Val can do whatever he wants with Angel in the studio, outside of the studio, though, Angel is free. This is one of the reasons why he is desperate to keep Angel around. Which also indicates Val abuses him financially, if most (if not all) the money Angel earsn with HIS work goes to VAL, then Angel is even more vulnerable, powerless and dependent on his abuser. It explains why Angel agreed to live in the Hotel in the first place: he'd have a free room, away from Val, with the MINIMAL of privacy and safety.

Angel Dust, with this amount of abuse and trauma, obviously run into coping mechanism. Even if it's self destructive. Angel is addicted to drugs (his artistic name explains itself), apparently alcohol too, and most important, he masks his own feelings. He acts as Angel Dust, the perfect, unbothered pornstar that is not weak or vulnerable in any situation. Angel Dust is always confident, strong, wanted, and constantly does the only thing he was taught he was of: flirting. He agressively flirts with every men, he offers his own body to almost every men he sees, because if he surrender himself first, then he won't be hurted or coerced... right? Angel Dust hides his true feelings and pretends to not care about anything and anyone but himself. Angel is, most of the times, rude, and don't respect other people's boundaries (after all his own boundaries aren't respected).

Because, if Angel acts this way, he won't be harmed, he won't be hurted, he won't be abandoned. If he is emotionally distant from everyone, once they abandone him, it won't be so painful... right?

Anthony hides his true self as a cope mechanism. And he knows he isn't perfect. He isn't a perfect victim, he has flaws, he does wrong things and make people uncomfortable (specially Husk, the only man that rejects his flirting, which I will talk about later), and mainly, he blames himself for being abused. And this is why he is so afraid to be real and vulnerable, even next to his friends. He thinks he won't be accepted or treated with respect. He spent so many years being told that he is only worth for sex, that he ended up believing this is the true. He spent so many years being treated as a sexual object, that he began to think he really is. He spent so many years being abused, isolated and manipulated, that he is afraid of opening up. He spent so many years being blamed for other people's actions (mainly Valentino), that he believes it's all his fault.

You may argue that he is honest and vulnerable with Cherri Bomb, but that's the point: Cherri is in a similar situation, she had a traumatic experience in the past and has similar self-destructive behaviour. She is a good friend, she sees him as he is and understands him for personal experience. As for Charlie... well, don't get me wrong. I LOVE Charlie. She IS a good person, a good friend and clearly cares about her people more than anything in the world. She wants to help and save people, Angel being one of them. She nearly beated Valentino's ass for seeing him abusing Angel. BUT. Let's be honest: as a very privileged person (princess of hell) among wretched mortal souls, she has no social awareness. I mean, come on. She wrote an anti-drug, pro post-marrital sex play where she casted Angel (a drug addict and a non-married sex worker) as the "crackhead bad guy", and praised only Sir Pentious for doing exactly the same thing Angel did. She wants to help, but she doesn't know how. Angel doesn't feel safe enough to open up. Anyone in the Hotel appeared to be safe and trustworthy, Anthony/Angel was afraid of being judged. He is a victim of SA, gruesome things were done to his body without his consent and he is ashamed of it. His hypersexualization is a way to escape his shame (hypersexualization IS A REAL AND VALID COPING MECHANISM IN REAL LIFE).

It's only in his most vulnerable moment, when he is caught by surprise, that his real feelings appear. When Charlie invades Valentino's studio — putting, in Anthony's eyes, her safety in danger —, the real Anthony tries to protect her from Val. He knows how shitty Val is. A coward, evil, gruesome abuser that has desires to control everyone and everything, even the Princess of Hell herself. We all know Charlie is much more powerful and could easily beat Valentino's ass, but Anthony doesn't care about. He probably doesn't even think too much about it, he just wishes to protect his friend. This is one of the most beautiful character aspects that Anthony has: he cares for his friends, MORE than he fears Val.

For Anthony, it's easier to surrender his body and will to Valentino, anything to calm his whiny ass down and make things less painful. But when it comes to his friends... it's so, so much difficult. He pleads Val to not hurt Charlie. Later in E6-S1, he stands up against Valentino to protect Nifty. Angel pretends to be unbothered and relaxed most of the times in the Hotel, he acts like if he doesn't care, but he DOES. He cares for his friends more than he cares for himself. He puts his friends in the first place. For him, it can seem like nothing important, but it actually tells how caring and kind he actually is. He is protective. He doesn't want ANYONE to experience the same abuse he experiences. Every. Fucking. Day.

Angel's arc, in the first season, is realizing that there ARE people who love him and care for him, DESPITE HIS FLAWS. He is not an object, he is not a worthless sinner, he is a victim, he is a person, he is a FRIEND. Once he realizes that, he starts to be kind to himself, make better choices, set boundaries to himself and respecting other people's people boundaries. And speaking about boundaries...

Huskerdust is simply, aaah holy shit what a perfect dynamic, what a perfect shipp (and when I mean Huskerdust, I mean ONLY the romantic shipp).

Husk really got into Angel's nerves, because he was the only man who rejected his flirts. He didn't only rejected, he pushed Angel away many times and openly said that he could see that Angel was faking. To someone trying to hide his own feelings, afraid of being judged and ashamed of the consequences of his trauma, that probably hurted a lot. Angel was taught that his only worth is based on his physical beauty and if he is sexually desired. Seeing someone, not only rejecting his offers, but also seeing throught the act he puts on, must have terrified and hurted Angel in a way he never expected to feel. He wasn't upset because "Husk rejected him", he was feeling humiliated and confused because, for the first time in years, someone wanted to meet the real Anthony. Angel was gaslighted to think that he is only worth for sex, for being used.

So. "What do you mean Husk doesn't want to use me? He must hate me and I'm worthless!". It's obvious that he would have this reaction. During his breakdown after Husk called him "fake", he is saying those words to himself. He is reaffirming what he was told he was worth for: for being used. People would kill to have Angel in their beds, people would kill to afford Angel's services, people would kill to use Angel. "— Do you know how much I'm worth?" in fact, Angel himself doesn't know how much he is worth.

Husk was the person Angel NEEDED. He may have been harsh on him in some occasions, but Husk CARES for Angel. He is grumpy and won't say it out loud, but he does care. He protects Angel from being drugged and abused in a bar even after their argument. He offers to listen, he relates to Angel's situation and doesn't judge him. Angel NEEDED to have the reality shock throught Husk's words: no one cares if he's hot, famous, if he's a whore, if he has flaws, literally no one cares. His friends love him the way he IS. Husk wanted Angel to be truthful, that's all. Husk never forced any physical contact, in fact, he offers his hand first and waits until Angel accepts it — besides, his physical affection isn't based on sex or violence. Notice how Husk never actually said Angel's work is garbage or that he is a bad actor, because this would be a lie. Husk says the material that is given to Angel is garbage. After all, Angel's movies are written and directed by Valentino (if i'm not mistaken, one of his asshole clients Travis also help Val with the script), of course it's garbage. Husk sees that the situation Angel is in, is garbage. Is horrible. Angel felt offended at first because, again, he thought his worth was based on Val's bullshit, but NO. Angel, Anthony, is not Val's bullshit, he is absolutely different.

Husk sees him as a real person. After Angel overstepped boundaries many times, Husk could easily tell him to fuck off, let him be drugged and raped without giving a damn, mocking his trauma, which would be a total asshole attitude but no. Husk, even being mad at Angel, listens to him with an opened heart. This is what Angel needed. He needs love and affection from someone that sees him as he is, and this person is Husk. Their bonding is so sweet in the next episodes, and I'm really excited to see how their slow-burn is going to happen in next seasons.

"Loser, Baby" is such an amazing song, it's so cute and adorable and it's exactly the type of comfort that Angel needed. Husk is also on a leash. He sold his soul to Alastor, he is constantly mistreated and forced to do things he doesn't want to do by this powerful overlord, and if Husk says no, he might lose his life. He knows exactly how Angel is feeling. He doesn't have a solution for their problems, he can't do anything against neither Valentino nor Alastor, but what he can do is helping Angel. Comforting him, listening to him and offering him companion. Angel is living a horrible situation, but he ISN'T ALONE. Yes, Angel is a cocked-up dick sucking hoe, and IT'S OKAY.

Now listen: "Addict" is Angel's song that denies his suffering. He pretends to "don't give a damn" and to be fine with the life he's living. "Poison" is the realization that he needs help, he is being abused and is slowly destroying himself with his addictions. He aknowledges his suffering, but he is still hopeless. "Loser, Baby" is Angel letting hope in. He knows he's, well, a loser, a broken person that lives a terrible, suffered life, but he is NOT alone. He is loved, despite his flaws, because his friends aknowledge his qualities and worth, him as a person. Anthony, not Angel Dust.

What an amazingly well-written character, fuck my life. I love him so much 😭