#it’s like.. sir why do you give me these emotions

[slipknot-sic-0]

i love.. i absolutely adore researching about slipknot- and i get very serious about it/the info i find. but on occasion i will stumble upon an extremely attractive jim pic and then the world ends and i turn into a mushy little puddle

[vikkirosko]

Headcanons of how would Stolas, Fizzarolli, Asmodeus, Sir Pentious, Husk, and Alastor react to their crush asking "Why me?" after he confessed to them? Not because they don't like him back but they feel like he deserves someone better than them!

Headcanons Why me?

📻 Alastor x Reader 🎙

Getting a confession from Alastor was the most unexpected event in your life. Even though you had feelings for him, you would never have thought that such a thing was even possible. He continued to look at you with his usual smile, waiting for at least some kind of answer from you, and you could only ask why you

Your question made him laugh, as if you had asked something so obvious that it was even funny. He asked you directly what you meant, to which you confusedly told him that you were an unsuitable partner for such a charismatic person as Alastor. Your answer made him laugh again, which made you even more embarrassed

Alastor did not torment you with suspense for a long time and told you that it was his choice and if it were not so, you would not be having this conversation now. He was sure of what he was experiencing and was only waiting for your answer

You didn't know how to react. You weren't completely sure that it wasn't a joke or something like that. The only way to find out the truth was to take a chance and tell him how you felt about him

🃏 Husk x Reader 🥃

Husk didn't admit even to himself for a long time that he had feelings for you. He denied them, but eventually admitted to himself that he really likes you. Now he had another difficult task, namely to tell you how he felt about you. He did it quickly, abruptly, when you were alone in the bar. However, your reaction was not what he expected and it put him in a dead end

You only asked him one question. Why do you. You claimed that Husk, despite all his rudeness, was a good man and deserved a good partner, which you did not consider yourself to be. Husk was frankly surprised that you saw him in a completely different way than he perceived him. Perhaps it was because you were in love with him, but Husk was not going to go back on his words because you considered yourself unsuitable for him

Husk directly told you that he feels these feelings not for someone else, but for you, which means he was not going to give up his feelings so easily, especially if the only reason for this was that you did not consider yourself a suitable partner for him. He asked you directly if you had the same feelings for him as he had for you, and when he received an affirmative answer, he nodded with satisfaction

He understood that you were worried about him, but Husk intended to decide for himself who was the right partner for him and who was not, and you were the person he wanted to see next to him, and if you felt the same way about him, then there were no reasons why you couldn't be together

🐍Sir Pentious x Reader 🎩

Pentious took a long time to tell you about his feelings. His feelings for you were strong and he sincerely wanted to tell you about them, and his subordinates often supported him in this, so he was able to muster the courage to tell you everything. But when he confessed to you, he saw how quickly the emotions changed on your face. You were surprised, confused and excited

You asked him why you. You stopped talking, so he asked what you meant. To his question, you took a deep breath and spoke. You said he was smart, brilliant, funny and sweet. In your eyes, he was wonderful, despite the cute oddities in your opinion, and he deserved the best partner, which you were not, at least that's what you said yourself

When you looked up at him, you saw tears in his eyes. He was ready to cry. He couldn't remember the last time someone had said such words to him, especially the person he really liked. Pentious asked you if you had mutual feelings for him, and after receiving your affirmative nod, he hugged you tightly

He was happy that you reciprocated and now you could be together. Pentious was as happy as ever, rejoicing that he was able to confess his feelings to you. He was sure that no matter how gloomy his day was, it became brighter next to you

🦉 Stolas x Reader 🎩

Stolas had few opportunities to experience real feelings. That's why when he realized his feelings for you, he decided not to delay the confession. He knew he could have missed his chance, so he decided to take a chance, but your reaction surprised him

You were very confused and started talking fast. You told him that you weren't the right partner for him, even though you felt the same way about him, and it wasn't about social status. You thought he was wonderful. He was handsome, smart, kind. He deserved the best partner. Better than his almost ex-wife and better than you, at least that's what you claimed

Stolas listened to your monologue with surprise, after which he smiled gently and took your hand in his. He told you bluntly that there weren't many pleasant moments in his life, but after meeting you, his life became brighter and he hoped that there would be even more of these moments

He felt warm in his soul when he saw your embarrassed expression. Stolas was glad that his feelings were mutual, because you said it yourself, but he was even more pleased that you sincerely wished him happiness. He hoped that together you could become happy

🐓 Asmodeus x Reader 💕

Asmodeus has been planning to confess his feelings to you for a long time. He wanted everything to go beautifully, because you deserved the best, which is why he prepared a romantic dinner for the two of you, cooking the food himself. Ozzie behaved gallantly and politely when you came, sincerely hoping that you liked everything, and when dinner came to an end, he honestly told you about his feelings for you, but your reaction surprised him

You asked him why you. Asmodeus didn't have time to answer you when you started talking. You thought he was wonderful. He was smart, handsome, talented and more, and he deserved someone better than you, much better than you, at least that's what you said yourself

When you finished your monologue, Asmodeus couldn't help but laugh, after which he hugged you. He was glad that you had such an opinion of him, but he knew that he loved you and in his eyes you were the best and he wanted to see you next to him and not someone else whom you considered better than yourself

Ozzie hoped that you would be able to believe in yourself and not continue to deny his feelings. He saw that his feelings were mutual and it made him happy. Asmodeus was sure that you would be really happy together

🎪 Fizzarolli x Reader 💟

You and Fizzarolli have been friends for a long time and he knew that he was in love with you. Fizz didn't know how to tell you that he liked you, and so he was silent for a long time, but he realized that he couldn't keep silent anymore, so he decided to confess to you about all his feelings that he felt for you

When he stopped talking, he saw how red your face was. You were confused by his confession and clearly started to worry, but instead of responding to his feelings, you asked why you. You were talking fast, embarrassed, obviously nervous, but you kept talking. You told him that he was a wonderful man, he was funny, handsome, talented and deserved the best partner, much better than you

When you finished speaking, you saw that Fizzarolli was as confused as you were. He was embarrassed that you thought he was so wonderful, because he didn't think he was as wonderful as you said. He gently took your hands in his and shyly said that his feelings for you were sincere and that you were the most wonderful person he had ever met

Fizz was genuinely glad that his feelings were mutual. He wanted you to be happy, especially after you expressed your uncertainty about his choice. He wanted to do as much for you as possible, at least as much as his powers allowed him

[cockkette]

meet the piastris

oscar piastri x reader

warnings - pregnancy, children (is this a warning idk maybe), this is disgustingly fluffy, insinuation of smut, mention of death (as a joke), i think that's it xoxo

face claim - girls on pinterest

oscarpiastri

liked by y/n.l/n, mclaren and 378,728 others

tagged: y/n.l/n

oscarpiastri: so excited to see what the future holds for our family and i'm incredibly lucky to share this with the love of my life

comments

y/n.l/n: how could you do this to me

oscarpiastri: ?

y/n.l/n: this is so sweet but now i'm crying and covered in snot

y/n.l/n: i love you (we have run out of tissues)

oscarpiastri: i love you too (i'll buy them on my way back home and some hot chocolate)

user1: i need someone that is as down bad for me as oscar is for y/n

user2: ikr man is whipped

oscarpiastri: have you seen her shes gorgeous?!?

user3: OSCAR JACK PIASTRI THE LAST PICTURE!!!

user4: the gasp i gusped

landonorris: my honest reaction 😋🥰😍

y/n.l/n: 🤔 please stop thirsting over my husband

landonorris: i'm so sorry queen it won't happen again 😔🙏

user5: what just happened

landonorris: she's scary pregnant ☹️

mclaren: we can't wait to meet the baby papayas! (zac does need to have a chat with you about what is appropriate to post on social media)

oscarpiastri: why?

user6: unbothered king

user7: served

mclaren: i give up

landonorris: warming up for my uncle duties

oscarpiastri: who told you, you can be their uncle?

landonorris: 😨😰😫🤢🤮😵

y/n.l/n: wait i feel bad

y/n.l/n: you can be their uncle ig 🙄

landonorris: yes! i'm going to buy them go karts

user8: y/n are you sure this is wise?

y/n.l/n: his emotional vulnerability got to me (also please don't buy my babies go karts)

logansargeant: i'll be their favorite uncle though right?

y/n.l/n: ofc 🩷

oscarpiastri: oh definitely

user9: uncle logiebear!!

landonorris: uncle lan*

logansargeant: you guys are going to be the best parents, i can't wait to meet the little ones

oscarpiastri: no please i've just stocked up on tissues

y/n.l/n: THANK YOU THIS IS SO SWEET I'M SOBBING I BET THEY CAN'T WAIT TO MEET YOU TOO

user10: i can't wait for dad oscar content

y/n.l/n: neither can i

user11: he's going to look so hot

y/n.l/n: HEY! he's mine

oscarpiastri: what she said!

user12: i love them

yourbestfriend: i hope they take after y/n looks wise xx

oscarpiastri: me too

y/n.l/n: they better do i've been the one carrying them around for nine months

y/n.l/n: but also osc is hella cute so its a win win

yourbestfriend: you two are disgustingly cute

y/n.l/n

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend and 604,921 others

y/n.l/n: welcome to the world freya and ruby piastri you are already so loved

comments

user13: they are adorable

oscarpiastri: the most adorable ever actually

y/n.l/n: agreed

landonorris: wait they are so tiny are they meant to be that small?

oscarpiastri: mate.. they are babies but are you meant to be that small?

landonorris: 😔

user14: gagged

danielricciardo: congrats

liked by y/n.l/n and oscarpiastri

lilymhe: their names are so cute

lilymhe: and so are they

y/n.l/n: thank you bby

user15: i have such bad baby fever and you are not helping

y/n.l/n: you may want to avert your eyes because they are literally going to be my entire feed from now on soz

user16: i don't blame you queen they are too precious

liked by y/n.l/n and oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri: we make cute babies

y/n.l/n: we really do

oscarpiastri: we should have some more

user17: sir it has been 2 days

liked by y/n.l/n

mclaren: our future driver lineup

liked by oscarpiastri

y/n.l/n: oscar! unlike this i don't think my heart could take watching them race

lewishamilton: congratulations guys

liked by y/n.l/n and oscarpiastri

landonorris: have you got the clothes i sent them yet?

y/n.l/n: yes thank you it was so... thoughtful of you to buy them shirts with your face on

landonorris: they have to know who their favorite uncle is

oscarpiastri: and the best way to do this was through a shirt?

landonorris: correct

yourbestfriend: sending mine now

logansargeant: me too

user18: the whole grid is all so excited for them!!

user19: it's so sweet

oscarpiastri: i think they just want to see who will be the favorite

yourbestfriend: i’m going to spoil them so much

y/n.l/n: you already have

yourbestfriend: well i'm gonna spoil them even more

charles_leclerc: future ferrari fans

maxverstappen1: future redbull fans*

georgerussell63: future mercedes fans**

oscarpiastri: no 🧡

liked by mclaren

logansargeant: can't wait to meet them!!

y/n.l/n: they can't wait to meet you either!!

user20: they can't talk

y/n.l/n: a mother knows x

mclaren posted a story

liked by y/n.l/n, oscarpiastri and 24,218 others

caption- we send our congratulations to oscar and y/n as they welcome freya and ruby piastri to their family and as we welcome them to the papaya family

replies

y/n.l/n: papaya girls! 🧡

mclaren: the mclaren merch is on the way

y/n.l/n: only if it's 81 merch

user21: freya and ruby mclaren takeover when?

user22: looking forward the dad oscar content

y/n.l/n posted two stories

liked by mclaren, yourbestfriend and 14,801 others

caption- race day !!

replies

user23: manifesting an oscar win 🏆

y/n.l/n: vroom vroom

yourbestfriend: i'm coming over again (to see the girls)

y/n.l/n: aww i've missed you (so have the girls)

francisca.cgomes: missing you in the paddock

y/n.l/n: miss you too

liked by mclaren, lilymhe and 23,014 others

caption- i don't think the girls are as invested as me yet 🤔

replies

yourbestfriend: i'm speeding to get there they are so cute

y/n.l/n: omg be safe please

user24: i wish i was freya or ruby

mclaren: living their best life

oscarpiastri

liked by y/n.l/n, yourbestfriend and 418,329 others

tagged: y/n.l/n

oscarpiastri: babies day out

comments

user25: they are 6 months old and are literally living my dream life

liked by oscarpiastri and y/n.l/n

user26: don't mind me i'm just going to find a cliff to jump off x

y/n.l/n: the best type of days

oscarpiastri: especially with you

user27: he's so disgustingly in love

user28: y/n could make anyone act like that

user29: osc is his girl's personal photographer

user30: we love him for that though

user31: we need our y/n, ruby and freya content

yourbestfriend: all three of my girls are looking adorable 🥰

oscarpiastri: my girls

yourbestfriend: know your place x

liked by y/n.l/n

oscarpiastri: Y/N!?

landonorris: when are you letting me babysit 😠😠

oscarpiastri: ...soon

landonorris: YOU HAVE BEEN SAYING THIS FOR 2 MONTHS

landonorris: its never going to happen is it

user32: poor lando

lilymhe: hot mama 😘

y/n.l/n: stop i'm blushing and giggling rn

oscarpiastri: damn everyone is trying to steal my girl today 😔

user33: she is hot tho

liked by oscarpiastri

y/n.l/n

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 438,623 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

y/n.l/n: the dad oscar content you have all been waiting for xx

comments

y/n.l/n: my husband is so so hot 🥵🥵🥵

user34: no need to rub it in

user35: how does it feel to live my dream

y/n.l/n: it feels amazing 😘

user36: thank you y/n we all say in unison

user37: thank you y/n

user38: thank you y/n

landonorris: thank you y/n

y/n.l/n: get out of here 🤨

user39: never beating the twinkclaren accusations

user40: foaming at the mouth

user41: oscar with his babies i'm going to combust

oscarpiastri: i'm putting the second picture in my wallet

y/n.l/n: you're so cute i'm sobbing 🩷

user42: he's so girl dad

liked by y/n.l/n

user43: he's so daddy

y/n.l/n: well yes actually

oscarpiastri: oh-

landonorris: my eyes!!

oscarpiastri

liked by yourbestfriend, mclaren and 346,717 others

tagged: y/n.l/n

oscarpiastri: date night (thank you to logan for looking after the girls)

comments

user44: waiting patiently for lando's breakdown

y/n.l/n: my date is so fit 😍😍

liked by oscarpiastri

landonorris: WHAT

landonorris: HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME

landonorris: do you want me to cry

y/n.l/n: we texted you...

oscarpiastri: yeah we wanted 2 people to look after them since it was the first time leaving them without family

landonorris: what!?!??

user45: i can feel his devastation through the screen

georgerussell63: he's been bitching about this for so long and he didn't see the message 😂😂

landonorris: leave me alone 🖕

user46: my favs

logansargeant: the girls had so much fun with their favorite uncle

landonorris: 😢😢

carmenmmundt: you better have bought her the flowers

alexandrasaintmleux: you better have treated her like a princess

oscarpiastri: ofc only the best for my girl

oscarpiastri posted a story

liked by y/n.l/n, mclaren and 34,521 others

caption: one year of loving you two 🧡

replies

user47: i think i can finally tell who is who

user48: wait no

y/n.l/n: our babies are growing up

oscarpiastri: maybe we should have another then

y/n.l/n: when the girls turn 2 we can talk about it

oscarpiastri: i guess we will just have to practice until then

y/n.l/n: when do you get home?🤭

y/n.l/n

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 567,308 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

y/n.l/n: happy 1st birthday to my babies STOP GROWING THEY ARE GETTING SO BIG I CAN'T HANDLE THIS 😫😫

comments

user49: i'm so invested in the piastri twins i'm crying at their birthday post 🥲🥲

user50: we are witnessing piastri world domination 💪

yourbestfriend: where has the time gone

y/n.l/n: i swear they were born last week

oscarpiastri: they are growing up so fast 🩷

y/n.l/n: i've been crying about this all week

user51: she is all of us

user52: i just know their birthday party was banging

landonorris: the cake was amazing

mclaren: are ruby and freya enjoying their presents?

y/n.l/n: they love them!! thank you mclaren 🧡

a/n - thank you for reading i hope you enjoyed and as always any feedback is apppreciated <3

[freedomfireflies]

Insufferable You*

Summary: The third part to Infinite You*

The one where Harry is still in an open relationship with your best friend, so maybe it's time to remind him what he's missing.

Word Count: 7.3k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, edging, spanking, brief exhibitionism, sir kink, masturbation, brief choking

“Kitten…what are you doing?”

Your whimpers are airy. Light. A string of breathless pleas woven between the soft sounds of your fingers fucking into your cunt. And you can’t answer his question. Can’t find the strength to pull yourself away from the pleasure between your thighs.

“Kitten,” he asks again and it’s firm. “Talk to me.”

He’s panting through his request and the sound—the image in your head of the way he must look, fucking his fist to the melody of your voice almost hurts you.

“I’m…I’m playing with my clit,” you answer. He groans. “Just like you do.”

“Just like me, hm?” He curses on his end of the phone and your legs shake. “How?”

“M’pinching it,” you tell him. “And pulling it. The way you like.”

His noises are louder. Needier. He must like the image in his head, too. “God, I’d give anything to see it, baby. Give fucking anything to watch you touch yourself for me.”

Anything. Anything. You shiver. “Yeah? You’d watch me?”

“Mhm.” He’s getting closer and you don’t want this to end. “Sit there on my knees and take every drop in my mouth when you’re done.”

Your hips buck up and your fingers sink deeper. He ruins you even when he’s not here. “I know,” you whisper. Your eyes squeeze shut. “And I’d let you.”

He makes a sound that might be a laugh but could be a strained moan. You aren’t sure. But you don’t really care because it’s beautiful, no matter what it is. “Kitten,” he exhales and your insides twist. “I need you to cum for me, okay? I need to hear you. God, I need to fucking hear you, baby, let me. Come on—”

There’s something in the way he speaks. Like he’s just woken up. Rough and low and thick. He sounds like sex and you miss hearing it in person. But you were desperate—you had to call him. You had to hear him talk you through this moment and you’re so glad you did.

When you cum, it’s everything. Perhaps not as satisfying as when it’s with him, but still euphoric. And your whimpers of pleasure are what send him over the edge.

The phone fills with the sounds of your ecstasy and you wish you could record the way he moans your name. You wish you could bottle this feeling and get drunk on the way he adores you. 

Instead, you indulge in the few moments you have with him. Because you know they won’t last much longer.

“That was good,” you tell him breathlessly and he chuckles. “How are you so good at that? Even over the phone?”

“Could ask you the same thing. Now I’ve got a sticky hand and nobody to clean it up.”

You pout. “Stop, don’t tell me that. It’s not fair.”

He laughs again. “Sorry, Kitten. Couldn’t help it. You all right? You feel better?”

“I do. Thank you for letting me call you.”

“Always.”

Your heart skips. “So…what are you up to today?”

There’s a pause. A long pause and you know what he’s going to say even before he says it. “Rebecca and I are running some errands.”

“Oh.” Oh. Your throat goes dry. “Right…sorry, I’m…you probably need to go, don’t you?”

Another pause. “In a bit,” he says. “After I make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” you say far too quickly. And far too obviously forced. “Yeah, no, I’m…duh. Obviously I’m okay now. After…yeah. Okay, sorry. You can…I’ll talk to you later—"

“Kitten.”

You stop. “What? I’m…I’m letting you go—”

“Don’t. I want to talk to you a little longer.”

“But you’re busy—”

“It can wait.”

Swallowing, you whisper, “Harry, I’m…I’m just saying—”

“So am I.” He’s firm again. “Don’t do that. Don’t send me away because of her. We can talk. I promise.”

Your eyes squeeze shut. You force the tears back. Why does orgasming make you so emotional? “I know, I just…she’s there, isn’t she?”

Another beat. “Not in the room.”

“But she’s there. In the apartment. Near you.”

“Yes.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. “See, that’s…that’s why I’m letting you go. So you can be with her. Okay? I’ll talk to you later—”

“Kitten.”

“Harry.” You huff if only to make yourself sound stronger than you feel. “I’m okay. You can go.”

“You’re not okay. You’re sad.”

“I’m…no, I’m not sad, I’m just…I’m tired. I came really hard.”

“I know you.”

“Well…you don’t know me that well. Cause I’m fine.”

“Baby—”

“Just go,” you insist. “I promise I’m okay as long as you are. I shouldn’t have called so early anyway, that was…I’m sorry. That was my mistake—”

“You can call when she’s here, you know that—”

“But I don’t want to.”

Another long pause that feels like an eternity. “Okay,” he finally murmurs and you pull the phone away to take in a shaky breath. “But I want your honesty. Okay?”

“Sure.”

“Are you really okay?”

Truthfully, you don’t know. “Yeah, I’m fine. Swear. Thanks for helping me. I’ll talk to you later?”

“You will,” he agrees. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Rebecca’s dinner.”

Fuck. You forgot. “Oh…right—”

“You’ll be there. Right?”

It doesn’t really feel like you have a choice. “I…I don’t know yet, I might be busy—”

“You’re not.”

“You don’t know that. I could have plans.”

“You do. With us.”

Us. Your nose scrunches. “I mean other plans—”

“You don’t.”

“I might—”

“You don’t. If you did, I’d know.”

“Well, that’s presumptuous.”

“Maybe, but it’s true. Because you talk to me. When I ask you a question, you answer honestly. You’re a good girl. I know you.”

Your chest feels tight again. “Well, I don’t tell you everything.”

“You should.”

“You don’t tell me.”

“Because you don’t ask.”

He’s right. You never ask him anything personal because honestly, you’re afraid of what he’ll say.

“Fine,” you agree. “I’ll be there. Are we done?”

He waits a moment before saying, “We’re not done. We’ll discuss this later. But for right now, yes.”

And even if he sounds a bit strict, you can’t help smiling. “Yes, Sir.”

“Mm. That’s my girl. Take it easy today, all right?”

“I will.”

“Good. See you tomorrow, Kitten.”

“Goodbye, Sir.”

He chuckles and you hang up and even despite everything else…you can’t help but grin.

“Oh, my god. He does. Every time. He’s got such a weird thing with feet.”

You laugh. “It wasn’t so bad at first. But then he got a little too comfortable—”

“No, he does that. He really does.” Rebecca smirks as she throws the freshly chopped carrots into her pot. “And it started out cute, but now…”

You both glance into the living room where Harry is relaxing on the sofa. He’s smiling as he watches the two of you work on the food and even if he can’t hear you, he must know you’re talking about him.

“It’s still cute,” you argue in his defense. “Gross…but cute.”

She laughs. “Yeah, I guess he can be cute when he wants to be.”

You grin together and this feels good. You’ve missed your friend. You’ve missed having someone to laugh with, gossip with. And maybe it was strange at first, to come into their apartment and talk to your best friend about sleeping with her boyfriend.

But after a minute or two, you settled right back into the familiar rhythm of your friendship. And it almost felt…normal. 

“Has he done the thing where his left leg starts to shake when he gets overstimulated?” she asks and you nearly snort. 

“Oh, my god. Yes. The other day. I thought he was having a heart attack.”

“It’s the funniest thing. It just started, too. Couple years ago. He swears it doesn’t but like…I can see it.”

“It’s quite the tell,” you agree and you can’t help the way your eyes drift back to where he’s lounging on the sofa.

He notices and smirks at you.

“What?” you call.

He shrugs. “Nothing. You girls are cute, that’s all.”

“Bite me,” Rebecca says and he chuckles. “We’re not cute. We’re hot.”

“Absolutely,” he agrees. He leans forward. “Let me guess. You’re telling her about the leg thing?”

“Yup. And I was right,” she says smugly. “She sees it, too.”

His eyes roll but he smiles at you. “It’s not that bad—”

“No, it is,” she argues. “You look like a dog. A very cute dog, but still.”

He laughs a little louder and you’re almost jealous of their dynamic. A dynamic you’ve been witness to for almost five years. And it’s never made you jealous before.

But now…

She puts the soup on simmer and grabs your hand to lead you to the living room. “I told you we were gonna gossip about you,” she reminds him. “All good things, don’t worry.”

“I’m sure.” He smiles at you both as you take a seat on the sofa. She flops down right beside him while you cautiously sit on the other end. Exactly where you’d been that first day you agreed to this arrangement. “This is nice,” he says.

She hums. “Yeah, it feels like old times.” She glances toward you. “And it’s not weird…is it? I mean, you feel okay?”

Feeling a little hot under the spotlight, you swallow and force a quick shake of your head. “No, this is…it’s good. This is fun.”

However, she knows you better than anyone and her brows pull together as she studies you. “Do you have any questions? Or anything we can clear up?”

“Uh…I don’t know.” Truthfully, you don’t want to ask. “Is it…is it weird for you guys?”

They both shake their heads, almost as if in sync, and you resist the urge to scrunch your nose.

“Do you…have any regrets?”

“No,” she says and Harry agrees. “None. Do you?”

“No,” you echo. “No, I just…I don’t know. This still kind of feels like cheating.”

They exchange a glance and your heart skips. You’re even jealous of the way they look at each other.

“Rebecca and I have always agreed that whatever the other decides to do is their business,” Harry says. “As long as we communicate, there's freedom there. No judgment, no expectations, no regret.”

“And no jealousy,” she adds, offering you a soft smile. “Or shame. Or anything like that.”

You nod and pick at a loose string on your jeans. “And are you two…I mean do you still…”

“No,” she assures you and you’re thankful she figured out what you meant. “No, we haven’t in a few weeks.”

“Oh…because of me?”

She shakes her head while Harry says, “Not entirely. Most of it is for safety reasons. Keeping things clean and respectful. But it’s also one of our rules.”

“Rules?”

“We have a few rules we like to follow,” she explains. “It just makes it easier. Sometimes it can be tricky and this helps keep us on the same page.”

“And no sex is one of them?”

“Kind of. We don’t sleep together if one of us is seeing someone else. Well, no penetration, anyway.”

You hate the way your stomach sinks. “Oh. And…do you date other people…a lot?”

He looks over at her and she thinks. “Not…really?” she says. “I don’t think, anyway.”

“Jack was the last guy you were with, right?” Harry asks and she snaps her fingers.

“Jack. Right. Yeah. He was cute. And then yours was…Angie? I think?”

He nods. “Last year.”

“She was nice.”

“She was…sure. Yeah. She was nice.”

Rebecca laughs and he grins proudly, happy to have made her laugh. Your nose scrunches.

“She wasn’t that bad,” Rebecca argues. “She was just put in a weird position.”

“Literally and figuratively.”

She smacks his arm playfully and he pinches her thigh. You want to look away. 

“Either way,” she finally says, “we don’t very often. And I don’t think of it as cheating. Especially not with you. Because I know he’s a good partner and I know that you deserve someone as kind as he is.” 

He gives her a grateful grin before returning his attention to you. “We can stop if you want. Because I agree with Bex. I wouldn’t want to lose you as my friend and if you feel pressured or unsure—”

“I don’t,” you nearly rush to argue. “No, I don’t, I…I’m just really struggling with the dynamics of it. I guess.”

“Trust me, I get it,” she says gently. “It was a bit of a learning curve for us, too. Harry can get incredibly jealous.”

You’re tempted to tell her that you already know but you watch his reaction instead.

His eyes roll but then his stare returns to you and he winks, as though he’s recalling the same memory you are. 

It makes your skin feel warm.

“Oop, hold on. I gotta check the soup,” Rebecca suddenly exclaims before jumping off the sofa to rush back to the kitchen.

And now left alone together, your attention is drawn back to the tall, handsome man you can already feel staring at you.

“Any more questions?” he asks softly. He leans forward and places his elbows on his knees and somehow, even that makes you feel safer. 

“Just one,” you murmur and he nods. “Does this mean you and I are…dating? Or are we just fucking until I can find somebody else?”

There’s a slight edge in your voice that you hadn’t meant to be there, but he picks up on it instantly.

“Are you looking for somebody else?” he asks.

“Not really. But this whole thing started because you both felt bad for me,” you remind him. “And it’s been a lot of fun. Honestly. But you are kind of on loan. I just…I’m not sure what this makes our situation. If we’re just fucking…or more.”

He takes a moment to think about his answer, eyes flicking between yours almost as though studying you. “Would you like there to be more?”

You bite back huff. He’s very good at redirecting. “I don’t know. Would you?”

“I think more can get complicated.”

Your feel your expression fall. “Right.”

“And I don’t want to lose you from my life for good,” he continues. “You know that. Neither of us want to lose you—”

“Right, yeah. It’s fine. Forget I asked.”

He’s frowning now. “Kitten, don’t do that—”

“No, really,” you argue. “It’s fine. You’re right. Let’s just keep it like this until I can find somebody else.”

The frown turns into a glare. “Kitten—”

“Okay, soup is almost done,” Rebecca announces as she returns. This time she sits next to you and throws an arm around your shoulder. “What did I miss?”

The tension is palpable. You speak first. “I was just telling Harry that I might not need his services much longer.”

Rebecca’s eyebrows raise while Harry’s scowl deepens.

“Oh?” she asks.

You nod. “Well, seeing as we don’t want to do anything to ruin the friendship…I thought I’d give Ethan a call.”

It’s mean and perhaps a bit cruel, but you can’t help yourself. You aren’t trying to hurt him. Because he is right. And don’t want to lose him for good, either, and all this evening has truly done is prove how close he and Rebecca actually are.

You’ll never be able to compete with five years of love and affection. And maybe you don’t want to.

Maybe it’s time to move on.

“Ethan?” Harry repeats while Rebecca perks up.

“Yes,” she squeals excitedly. “Oh, I was hoping you would. He’s so nice, I think you guys would be perfect together.”

“Yeah,” you agree with a pointed look at Harry. “I think so, too.”

He knows what you’re doing. You can tell. And he’s oddly calm as he leans against the cushions and tosses his arms over the back of the couch. “And who the fuck is this Ethan?”

“Guy from my work,” you answer, equally as calm. “Nice. He’s been asking me out for a while.”

“A while.”

“Yeah, a while.”

His brows furrow. “So why do you want to go out with him now?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “He was never really my type before but we’ve gotten closer recently. I think it’s only fair I give him a real chance.”

“Really?” He’s curious. Maybe skeptical. “Now?”

You nod. “That way the three of us can preserve our friendship. Since that is the most important thing.”

“Well, I think it’s a great idea,” Rebecca tells you and hugs you to her side. “You’ll have to let us know how it goes.”

You grin and it’s all teeth. “I will.”

Dinner is nice. Tense but nice. You and Harry spend a majority of the meal exchanging icy glances and keeping to yourselves, leaving Rebecca to do most of the conversing.

And she doesn’t seem to notice. That or she merely pretends not to. She catches you up on some drama at work. Teases Harry about his sleep talking. Says she’s planning to visit her parents in a few weeks and then gives you the recipe for the soup.

And you and Harry nod politely, despite the unspoken rage from your ends of the table.

When dinner is finished, Harry offers to clean up and do the dishes. She kisses him on the cheek gratefully and says she’s gonna go take a quick shower since she’s got an early day tomorrow. She tells you that you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like and then she hugs you tightly and whispers, “I’m so glad we’re still friends.”

You hug her back and agree.

The moment she’s gone, Harry sets down his sponge and turns to you. “Come here.”

You hesitate by the front door, itching to escape. But he’s firm as he watches you from the sink, eyebrow raised and jaw clenched, leaving you no choice but to listen.

“Kitten,” he repeats. Lower. Sterner. “Come. Here.”

You take a tentative step toward him. “What?”

“We need to talk.”

“Do we?”

“Kitten.”

You huff and throw your purse back down. “I really don’t think we need to—”

“I don’t care what you think. I’m telling you that we’re gonna have a chat and you’re gonna come in here like a good fucking girl and talk to me.”

This is how he gets you. This is how he pulls your strings and turns you around until you obediently join him in the kitchen. Like a good fucking girl.

Satisfied, he leans back against the counter. “Now. What’s this Ethan shit you pulled?”

“It’s not shit, it’s real,” you huff. “He really did ask me out and I really am going to say yes.”

“But you haven’t yet.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I told you. He wasn’t my type—”

“No, I want the real answer.”

You frown. “That is the real answer—”

“No,” he repeats. “It’s not. And you know it.”

You cross your arms and look down at your shoes. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. He wasn’t my type but now he is.”

The argument lulls and the small kitchen falls silent. You hear him sigh and it almost hurts to hear how heavy his disappointment hangs.

But a moment later, he’s slipping his fingers beneath your chin and raising your eyes to his. They’re soft. Serene. Filled with everything he can’t seem to find the words to say and you hate how quickly your body begins to crave him.

“You aren’t being honest with me, baby,” he murmurs. Your lashes flutter. “You aren’t communicating with me. And I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say and he sighs like he knows this is a lie. “Really, I just…I know myself. If I don’t put a bit of distance between us…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to breathe on my own.”

This makes him sad and it hurts you to know you’ve made him sad. “Kitten,” he whispers. He steps closer until his chest is brushing against yours. “If I’m doing something wrong—”

“You’re not. That’s the problem.” You swallow and he brushes his thumb along your jaw. “You’re doing everything right and I’m worried I’m gonna want you in ways that I shouldn’t.”

“Do you not want to want me?”

“Not…like that,” you admit. “Not when you’re still hers.”

He frowns. “I told you, you don’t have to worry about anyone else—”

“But I do. Because at the end of the day, you’re still her Harry. You’re on loan to me until one of you decides you shouldn’t be anymore—”

“Kitten—”

“And I can’t be with you in any way but physically. You said so yourself. More would get complicated and even if you wanted to be with me…I don’t think I could share you.”

 He considers this. A long moment passes. “So you’re punishing me,” he says. “You’re going out with this Ethan guy to prove that you don’t need me.”

“What? No.” You lean back but he doesn’t let go of your chin. “I mean…okay, maybe I wanted to piss you off a little but I really do think I need to be with someone else in order to truly move on. I’m not punishing you. I’m…obeying you. If anything.”

He scoffs. “If you really wanted to obey me, you would have talked to me about what you were feeling.”

“I tried. You said more would get complicated.”

“It could. There’s always that risk. But I never said it wouldn’t be worth it.”

“So…what? You’d date me?”

“Of course.”

The answer is quick and it surprises you but it doesn’t seem to surprise him.

You blink. “You…really? You would date me? Like…officially?”

“I would.”

“And…what about Rebecca?”

“What about her?”

“You’d…you’d still be with her? Right? Even if we were together?”

He seems to know what you’re implying and sighs quietly. “Yes. I would.”

“And even if you weren’t…I’m assuming you would still want to be in an open relationship with me?”

Another pause. “Probably,” he admits, and even if you knew it was coming, you can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes. “That’s just the agreement I’ve always felt most comfortable with—”

“And that’s fine. I get it,” you assure him. You sniffle and he seems to wilt. “Really. I just…like I said, I don’t do well with sharing and if…if all we’re doing is fucking, I might as well just find somebody else, right? So that way the three of us can stay friends. And it doesn’t have to get weird.”

“I understand,” he says and you know he does. “I do, Kitten. And I would never keep you in a relationship you’re not comfortable in.” A beat. “But I can’t say that I like the idea of you going out with this guy.”

You smile. Gently. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

He looks down at you and takes your cheek in his hand. “You’re my girl,” he says. “No matter what. If you’re with me or not with me. You’re my fucking girl. And he doesn’t deserve even a second of your time.”

You fight a large grin and cling to his shirt. “You can’t say stuff like that.”

“Why not? It’s true.”

“Because.” You play with his buttons. “You don’t get to be jealous when you’re still with her.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m gonna like seeing you with someone else.”

You pout. “That’s not fair, Harry.”

“I know.” He brings his lips to yours. They hover—close—but never make contact. “I can’t help it. Can’t ever seem to help it when it comes to you.”

You want to push up and take his kiss, but he teases you just a little longer. “Harry—”

“Do you know that, Kitten?” His hands drop to your waist and he squeezes. Even though Rebecca is only two rooms away. Even though you can hear her humming in the bath. Even though he can never be yours. “Do you know how much I think about you?”

You swallow. Thick.

“How I think about the way you asked me to take care of you…” He ghosts his mouth down your neck. “The way you begged me to be rough….to spank you. Choke you. Degrade you.”

His voice is a sin and your eyes fall shut.

“Do you want me to degrade you, baby?” His fingers slip beneath your shirt. “Do you want me to pull you on my lap and spank you until you’re crying?”

The image in your head is somehow even better than his taunting. Your knees about buckle. “Harry…”

“You can find somebody else if you want to,” he whispers. “But do you really think they’ll be able to care of you the way I do? The way you want? The way you deserve?” 

His kisses find your chest while his knee slots between your thighs.

“I know how naughty you really are, baby girl,” he says and it’s over. “He will never know.” 

You grab his hair and he grabs your hips and you’re on the counter before you can even whisper his name. He pushes the hem of your dress up and guides your legs apart. He makes a home there, finger curling around the crotch of your panties in order to get a taste and it’s magic. Always.

And he does this to you only a few hundred feet away from where his girlfriend is innocently taking a shower. He does this, knowing she could walk out and see. He does this and you let him do this because there is no world in which you stop him.

“Harry,” you say—whimper—and he hums. His tongue licks up your cunt and your head drops back. “Har—wait—”

He doesn’t. He holds your thighs beside his cheeks and he sucks on your clit until you begin to squirm. “You promised to stay for dessert,” he says. “This is my dessert.”

The sounds are loud and beautiful and his curls feel good in your hands. You feel good in his.

Things fall to the ground. Bowls, pots, containers. He grins. He likes this, the danger. And he knows you like it, too. Because if you really wanted him to stop, he would. 

But you don’t. And you yank him closer to your pussy as though this will be the last time he ever gets a taste.

And deep down, you wonder if it is.

Either way, you enjoy his tongue and his lips and the tip of his nose that nudges your clit so expertly. You wonder how it’s possible to be so addicted to a man you’re not even with. A man that only recently started fucking you and a man that you’ve only ever considered a friend.

Part of you wants to get caught. Part of you wants things to implode. To believe that he’s doing this because he wants her to find out. Because what would happen if she saw? What would happen if he realized he wanted to end things? Would he be yours? Would he decide that your time and your heart and your pussy were infinitely more important than his sexual prowess?

You scrunch your nose. These are all the wrong questions. Harry doesn’t work like that. He never has and you can’t expect something from him that he won’t ever give you.

You return your focus to him. To the way his large hands are curling around your thighs and hoisting them up on the counter. You love his hands. You think they might be your favorite hands in the world.

They’re so gentle but strong. Practiced. You know they’d look good anywhere on your body. Your thighs, your chest, your throat…

You whimper at the thought and he glances up. He’s proud again. Drenched in your arousal and the evidence of your lust for him.

He moves his mouth to the inside of your leg and nips. He leaves marks and memories along the soft skin and you can’t wait to stare at them whenever he’s not around. The way he makes you his in the only way he can.

And you’re so close. You aren’t even sure how he got you here so quickly but he always seems to. And you don’t mind. Instead, you fist his hair and you buck against his tongue and he’s going to make you cum all over his girlfriend’s kitchen counter.

And then he stops.

He stops, he lets you go, and he pulls away.

Your heart drops to your toes as the orgasm fizzles down to nothing. “What…what are you—"

“Get down,” he says curtly. He slaps your outer thigh. “We’re leaving.”

He doesn’t tell you where you’re going. And you don’t ask. Instead, you watch as he wipes his mouth and disappears from the kitchen to wait by the front door.

After straightening your dress and readjusting your underwear, you scurry to his side with a fretful glance toward the bathroom. “Shouldn’t you tell her you’re going?”

He smiles. “She’ll figure it out.”

With that, you leave their apartment so he can take you back to your place and he keeps his hand on your thigh the whole drive. You wonder if he merely wants to keep some sort of claim on you or if it’s habit. 

Either way, his thumb rubs circles into your skin, right over the dark spots made by his lips and you smile. You want to lace your fingers with his. Want to hold his hand and pretend like the two of you are on your way home from a date. To pretend like this is normal—an everyday occurrence.

But you lose your nerve and soon, he’s pulling into the parking lot.  

“I want you upstairs,” he says and gives you a pointed look. “On the bed. Naked. And waiting for me by the time I come up.”

You nod quickly. “Okay. Are…am I in trouble—”

“That depends on if you obey.” He unlocks the door. “So let’s hope you do.”

Swallowing a giddy grin, you scurry from the vehicle and into your building. You don’t bother with tidying up or adjusting your appearance. You run straight into your bedroom, rip off your clothes, and spread out into a starfish position on the bed.

You hear him follow not much later. Slow, deliberate steps. Meant to taunt you, tease you. Make your stomach flip. And it works.

When you see his tall, muscular figure in the doorway, your pulse skips.

Smiling, you call, “Hi, Sir—”

“No speaking,” he says shortly. “Unless I say otherwise. Is that understood?”

“Yes—no—sorry, I’m…” You stop. Nod. 

He frowns but you know it’s only to hide a smirk. “Don’t test me, Kitten. You’ve already done that enough this evening, have you not?”

Another nod.

“And you knew better, didn’t you?” He walks into the room and begins to unzip his jeans. “Knew better than to dangle fucking Ethan in my face.”

You nod again but your eyes are trained on his hands. On the fingers that pull the hem of his shirt up and over his head.

“And you fucking knew…that if I got a taste of such a sweet pussy…I’d never stop,” he murmurs. He crawls onto the bed, wearing nothing more than his briefs. “That I’d forgive you. And let you off the hook.”

You don’t nod this time. You can’t. You’re too far gone in the lust in his eyes. The gentle green that’s now dangerous and luring you in.

“Well,” he whispers and then he smiles. “You thought wrong.”

He grabs your thighs and flips you over. Before you know it, you’re on your stomach, head spinning, while a large palm comes down in a sharp smack to your ass.

You jolt. Shriek. 

“Easy,” he says and he’s kinder now. “You’re gonna take your punishment like a good little whore, aren’t you?”

Now you understand. You see. And you settle onto the bed as he smooths the stinging print with the soft of his hand. 

You nod.

“Good.” He spanks you again. “I think we should do one for every time you lied to me. For every time I asked for the truth…and you refused to give it to me.”

Your lashes flutter. You suppose that’s only fair, although in your defense, the truth would have only hurt him.

“Let’s see…we’ll start with five,” he says and you exhale a sigh of relief. “Because I know you don’t mean to be a bad girl, do you?”

You whimper.

“You want to be good. Want to behave for me.” He spanks you. Number three. “You want a lot of things from me, don’t you? And maybe I’m bad, too. For not being able to give them to you.”

The air in the room shifts and you attempt to glance back.

However, he lays another firm smack to your ass before you can and then squeezes your hip. “Come on, you’re almost done,” he coos. A beat passes. “Do you remember me mentioning the traffic light system?”

You nod.

“Red for stop, yellow for pause, green for good, keep going?”

Nod.

“Good. Then I want you to use your words and tell me what color you are right now. Honestly.”

“Green,” you whisper, then clear your throat and speak louder. “I’m green. Honestly.”

He hums. “And you’re gonna take your last strike, yes?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And you’re gonna thank me for being so generous to such a selfish fucking whore?”

Your cheeks flush. Oh, he’s very good. “Yes, Sir.”

You still can’t see him but you can imagine his grin.

The last spank of his hand lands against your tender skin and somehow…it feels good. There’s something delicious about his pain. About the way he inflicts it. The way your body responds to it.

You groan—moan—and finally manage, “Thank you, Sir.”

He purrs something devious as he strokes the spot and begins to kiss his way up your spine. “Good fucking girl,” he breathes. The exhale of his praise dances across your back and you shiver. “Took your punishment so well. Wasn’t so bad, was it? Bet you even fucking liked, dirty thing. Didn’t you?”

You nod again and feel his knee begin to nudge its way back between your thighs. 

“Let’s check, shall we?” His fingers move now for the mess you already know is there. And when he feels it, he curses. “Fucking shit, Kitten, you’re soaked.”

You are. You are soaked and you’re making a mess of your duvet and his knee and he still hasn’t let you cum yet and you think you might die if he waits any longer. 

“Harry,” you nearly cry. “Please…please…”

He brings his kisses to the back of your neck. To the place below your ear that makes your stomach flip. He kisses. Sucks. Nips and violates the skin with his teeth.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Okay, but only because I know you need it.”

You nod again and begin to turn over. He goes to stop you—he wants to try from behind—but you insist.

“I want to see your face,” you say. “Please, I just…I need that tonight.”

The softness in his eyes and the fall of his expression almost hurts you. You don’t want to cause him pain or confusion. Ever.

But he’s not confused. He understands. And he agrees because maybe he needs it, too.

You pull him out of his briefs and he hikes your leg around his hip. Until the heel of your foot is digging into his ass and pulling him forward.

When he first pushes in, you both take a moment of silence to appreciate the beauty of your bodies connecting.

Harry was once your best friend and now he’s something else entirely. A completely different entity and you never imagined you’d see his cock disappearing into your cunt but now you don’t want to imagine his cock anywhere else.

When he’s about halfway in, he pulls back out and begins a steady pace. He’s large and he knows you need a moment or two to find the pleasure before he picks up a faster rhythm. So, he puts the focus on you. On your clit, on your thighs, on the way his lips feel against yours.

He kisses you—soft, sweet. Gentle. And then he kisses your neck. Your chest. Plays with your tits and whispers about how good they feel in his hand.

Then, he buries himself to the hilt as his hips find yours.

You arch and he catches you. There are more kisses, more soft murmurings. And there’s an intimacy here that doesn’t feel like sex. It feels like making love, a term you once scoffed at but now indulge in. Because maybe he does love you, in the only way he knows how. Maybe he does choose your body over hers. Maybe this was the best thing that ever could have happened to you. 

You grab his hand and bring it to your throat. Pointed enough that he knows what you want and after a quick glance for consent…he squeezes.

Your lashes flutter and you press on his knuckles. Harder. He obeys.

And you were right. His hand does look good on your body. A necklace to wear proudly and he whispers your name before tightening his grip and allowing the sides of your sanity to go fuzzy before loosening his fingers. 

You breathe. Deep. The air tastes like him and you love it.

He smiles. “You okay?”

“More than okay. That was…shit, I really like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Probably cause you’re doing it.”

He uses this hold to kiss you and it’s a mess of tongues and spit and loud sucking. It makes you giggle.

“You’re making this very hard for me,” he suddenly whispers.

“Well, I prefer you hard.”

He smirks, but this is not what he means. “I want this to work.”

“I know. I do, too.”

He surges forward—a sharp thrust. “It can’t work if Ethan’s in the picture.”

Oh. “Why? Because you need room for Rebecca?”

He sighs and you hate how sad it sounds. “I know I’m not being fair—”

“You’re not.”

“I can’t help it—”

“Well, neither can I.”

He stops for a moment and looks at you. “You have every right to go out with him. I know that. But I think I’ll lose my fucking mind if you do.” He continues to roll his body against yours and you want to purr. “So I want to make a deal.”

“Okay…”

“If you go out with Ethan, you go out with me,” he says. “If you date him, you date me. And I’ll play nice. I’ll share. But only until you realize he’s a waste of time.”

You run your fingers along his shoulders. Along his back. Along the curve of his ass. You think about his proposition. It sounds good, it does. A way to keep him while also keeping your options open. 

Because maybe this way, it won’t hurt so much when he still goes home to her.

“Can I think about it?” you ask. 

He kisses you. “Of course. Always.”

You resume the languid but fervent pace he previously set. He squeezes your neck whenever he wants to hear you whimper and you scratch your nails down his spine whenever you want him to groan.

And it’s perfect. Truly. Because while you’re on this date with Ethan, he’ll be able to see the marks Harry left on your throat.

And when Harry goes back to Rebecca, she’ll see the scratches down his back made by your hands.

You can’t help but feel satisfied with the idea and it brings you that much closer as Harry presses your hips to the bed and begins to fuck into you harder.

He readjusts his stance above you, knees deep into the mattress and hands clutching the sheets beside your waist. And every thrust is purposeful. Hard. Beautiful. The sounds are symphonic and when you look down to see, you nearly mewl. The way his cock is absolutely fucking covered in you, slipping in and out of your cunt with ease and determination. 

He’s beautiful when he’s focused. When he’s about to cum. You just want to kiss him and hold him and love him and be his.

And you fucking hate it.

“Need you to cum, baby,” he whispers and you nod in agreement. “Can you do that?”

“Yes….yes, Sir,” you stammer, already feeling the overwhelming power creep up your thighs. “I’m…I—”

“I know. I know, come on—”

You do. Just like that. Unravel like a spool of thread and dissolve into nothing but pleasure beneath him.

But you don’t feel him follow. In fact, he continues fucking you through your high until he suddenly pulls out and comes all over your swollen pussy.

It’s the most mesmerizing thing you think you’ve ever seen. The sticky substance paints your cunt in masterful strokes. Glistening from your body, your clit, your thighs like stars.

And you want to be disappointed that he didn’t finish inside but soon you understand why.

He takes your hand. Moves it closer and presses your fingers into the mess. 

“Touch it,” he whispers. “Fuck it back in.”

Your eyes widen. He smiles but the look in his eye is mischievous and deranged.

“Go on, Kitten,” he says. “I wanna watch.”

Your arms are shaking. In fact, every part of you is still shaking from your orgasm but you obey. You slowly—very slowly—begin to circle your touch around your clit. Feeling the way it nearly throbs as you stimulate it. As you force it into more pleasure.

Harry’s attention is glued to the show before him as he swallows thickly and you swear you can almost see his heart beating against his chest like a cartoon.

You move down. Collect as many drops of him as you can and slowly begin to ease two fingers into your fluttering hole.

When you reach the knuckle, you gasp and he exhales. 

It’s perfect.

He scoots back until he can lay on his stomach and place his cheek against your thigh. Close. Close enough that you can feel his breath fan across your hand.

And he watches. Happy. A lazy smile on those beautiful, pink lips. Lashes fluttering every time you whimper or whine.

“I…I can’t,” you whisper. The sensations are too strong. You’ve already cum once, you can’t possibly cum again so soon.

He hums. “Yes, you can. Let me see, baby. Let me watch.”

And you almost want to be embarrassed but something else seems to take over your mind entirely and you can’t help but go faster.

You pinch and curl and flex. You push his offering as far into you as you can reach and then you push in a little more. And it’s easier this time, even if it almost hurts. But you cum. You do, right in front of his very eyes until he’s quickly grabbing hold of you as though he’s desperate to be closer.

You’re more than a puddle this time. You’re practically limp but you’re also so incredibly happy. And he smiles brightly as he pulls your fingers away and puts them in his mouth.

You don’t even have the energy to make a noise this time. You merely watch him—content—until he starts kissing down your palm, along your arm, and to your chest.

Then, he pulls you into his embrace and you both indulge in a moment of peace. 

You’re both quiet for a while. Even after your heartbeat has steadied. Even after the sweat on your skin has dried and the room no longer feels so warm. 

You run your fingers down his torso. Along the dips and curves of his muscles that seem more defined every time you see him. 

“You’re insufferable,” you finally say and he laughs. The sound bounces between the walls of your room—joyous and unencumbered—and it makes you giddy. He doesn’t laugh like this for her. “What? You are.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Another beat. Longer.

Then, you whisper, “Okay.”

He looks down. “Okay?”

“I’ll agree to your deal.”

“Really?” He’s grinning again. Big.

“Mhm. As long as I get to keep you in some way…maybe it’ll be worth it.”

He seems to sadden at the use of the word maybe, but he brushes it off before you can comment on it. Instead, he pulls you closer and kisses you hard. Forever. 

And maybe…this won’t be so bad.

Previous Part:

~ Insatiable You* (Pt. 2)

~ Full Infinite You Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @buckybarnessimpp @hannah9921

[mooooonnnzz]

This is kind of cringe but can you write a fic or make a headcanon list of Stan/Fords daughter getting a partner and how the dads would react? I love your work btw it's great!

2010 Toyota Corolla

Stan + Ford HC's of their teen getting a partner!

⟡ 1,5k words

⟡ gender neutral reader!

⟡ guys i think im going through a writers block can u tell

⟡ i was doing so good too omg

⟡ i couldnt figure out a title so i used a song i was listening to ths is a song i swear

⟡ cute lil simple hc of of the oldmen!!

⟡ if u wanna be added to my taglist dm or comment!

⟡ i might like take a two day break from writing to get it working again ngl

Stan

♡ Stan is extremely protective of you. He never shunned the idea away of you having a partner, but he never really encouraged it. He told you that it was “a waste of time,” that finding a partner at such a young age isn’t really necessary until you’re older. You didn’t bother protesting against him because at the time you hadn’t found your person yet. But when you did, you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t nervous to tell Stan about it. You knew he wasn’t going to be overly mad, but he was going to be slightly against it knowing his views on you having a partner.  “Dad?” You nervously fidgeted with your fingers. “Yes, pumpkin?” You inhale, mustering up all the courage to tell Stan. “I have something to tell you…” You draw out. Stan’s face lightly drops, already having a feeling of what this “something” is. Pausing his TV show, he loudly gulped. “I’m dating someone!” You blurt out. Stan stares at you for the longest time, the gears in his head turning as he processes what you said. “You? Dating?” He sits up from the couch. “I need a moment…” 

♡ After he recovers from the initial shock, he’s bombarding you with questions, such as; “Who are they?” “Do I know them?” “Are they smart?” And so on. You had no problem answering his questions and he had no issue giving you questions with how rapidly he shot them at you. Whenever you answered his questions, you could see the wrinkles in his forehead deepen the more you open up about your partner. This was definitely going to take some time for him to get used to. “Thank you for at least telling me, pumpkin.” He says after finishing up the whole Q&A.

♡ Meeting your partner was a must before he’d allow you to hang out by yourselves. When they came over to the shack, Stan had this whole gruff persona. He didn’t show much emotion and when he did, it was to show his distaste for what your partner said. “How long have you known [Name] for?” He interrogated, flashing a bright light to their face. “For a year now, sir.” They responded, shielding their eyes from the shining light. “Sir? I like that.” He mumbles to himself, scribbling +1 point on a notepad. When he turned over to you, he gave you a big thumbs up and a crooked smile. You couldn’t tell if it was going well. “Why do you want to date them?” Stan raised a brow, tapping the pencil on his chin. “Because I fell in love with them, sir.” Stan let out a loud “hmm,” and scribbled down, ‘very straight to the point’ on the note. After the interrogation was over, he ripped the note and gave it to your partner. “This is your score.” He said. “I guess you did good.” 

♡ He pulled your partner into a room and had a serious “talk” about something you didn’t have a clue about. But when they came out of the room with a horrified look on his face while Stan was proudly smiling to himself, you had a tiny idea of what he said. They turn around to Stan and Stan twiddles his fingers, his other hand sliding across this neck threateningly. “Dad!” You smacked his arm. 

♡ Even after Stan approved of your partner, he still wasn’t fully swayed by them. Whenever they’d be over, Stan would send death glares behind their back when they weren’t looking. But you would always catch them and when you did, Stan would sheepishly smile at you and make a heart gesture and point at your partner. He only ever came around them when Stan noticed them staring at one of the monster tourist attractions. “Whaddya lookin’ at, kid?” They began explaining how interested they were in the craft of making these grotesque monsters and Stan was more than happy to tell them the process. “Glue and staples come in handy, kid. I’ll tell you.” 

♡ It wasn’t after that, you’d find your partner and Stan creating all kinds of monsters while cackling and talking. Stan saw you walk in and his face brightened up. “Pumpkin, look at what they made! It is disgusting.” He pointed a glue covered hand to the little ugly statue of a half chipmunk and fish. “Oh? Isn’t this something…” You poke at the monstrosity. “Isn’t it amazing?” Stan laughs, impressed with your partner's handiwork. “Oh, yeah. This is amazing.” You plainly said. “I’m going to leave you two be…” Conversation erupted between the two while you walked away with a big smile to your face. 

♡ “I like that kid.” Stan says, a pleased look on his face. “Oh, I can tell, Dad.” You roll your eyes playfully. “Hey! They’re a great person. Perfect fit for my little [Name].” His fingers reached out to pinch your cheeks. “Oh, stop!” You push his hands away. “I’m just messin’ with ya, pumpkin.” Anything will and can make this old man laugh. “You might as well steal them from me.” Stan’s perked up. “Really?” He overplayed his excitement. You send him a dirty look while he barks out in laughter. “You’re gross.” 

Ford

♡ He never really thought of you ever dating anyone. Romantic partners didn’t exist to him considering how terribly alone he is. The only thing he ever said about you dating was; “Uh, yeah?” and carried on with his work and that was a good enough answer for you. Ford found out about your partner when he walked in on you and your partner cuddling on the couch. “[Name],” He clears his throat awkwardly, pointing at your partner. “Who is this?” You introduce your partner to Ford and he’s genuinely speechless. “Since when?” He whispers to you after pulling you aside in the kitchen. “Since like, last week?” Ford’s jaw falls open. “And you never thought to tell me?” You shrugged. “I asked you and you said you were okay with it.” You tell him. “When?!” 

♡ He would be so awkward around your significant other. “So…What is your name?” He’s tugging at his turtleneck, silently dying from how silent this whole exchange is. It takes him a lot of time to warm up to them, a lot of hangouts with the three of you together so he could be comfortable with them. He also uses this as an advantage and studies how they treat you and what they should improve on to make you happier. At the end of the hangouts, he’d slip in a note in their pocket. “If you want to stay with my child, you need to read the note.” He didn’t mean for it to sound menacing, but it was unfortunately received like that. “[Name], I think your dad hates me.” 

♡ Like Stan, there’s an interrogation but it’s not as serious as Stan’s. Ford would have called them over and told them to sit down. He begins asking questions and writing down their answers. “What are you hoping to do with [Name]?” Your partner blushed. “To marry them hopefully.” Ford nodded his head. ‘Disgustingly cheesy.’ He wrote it down in big words. “If I ever wanted to conduct experiments on you, would you allow me?” You jump in at the mention of that. “Okay! I think they’ve answered enough questions, Dad!” 

♡ He deep cleans the areas where you and your partner hugged, kissed and cuddled in. “Dad, what are you doing?” He has a mask and a plastic protective layer of armor around him. “I’m cleaning all the gross teenage bacteria!” You had to walk out after that.  “Is this something you’re seriously going to keep up?” Even though Ford is the smartest man alive, he has trouble understanding the true nature behind relationships. “Yes, Dad. This isn’t a one time thing and we’re over. It’s a relationship.” 

♡ Oddly enough, they bonded over their shared interest in researching the wonders of Gravity Falls. You’d often find them outside, Ford kneeled down to the ground, inspecting something while your partner has a notepad in hand, printing down whatever Ford is telling him to write. “Hey, what are you–” “SHHHH!” You looked at them with a confused look. “We need to be utter and total silence.” Ford held out a finger while he whispered notes for them to write. “Why though?” Ford pointed at a sleeping little fairy that was blanketed in a leaf. “Leave the fairy alone!” Ford opened his mouth to argue back, but his nose twitched and before he could react he sneezed, blowing the little fairy away. A silent tiny scream could be heard. “That was awesome, Mr. Pines!” Your partner held a hand out for Ford to high five but Ford was too sad to high five them back. 

♡ “Final opinions on them?” You ask. “They aren’t too bad. They could be a good research partner.” You smile. “Just don’t take them from me.” You say, nudging him gently. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz, @katharine3000

[multi-fandom-imagine]

how have we as a fandom collectively not discussed lucifer corruption kink. because idk about anyone else but GODDDD FUCK

i was raised christian and that shit is so hot. like.. god DAMN

it's the "you used to be so devout when you were alive, what would they think of you now with the devil's cock in your mouth?" of it all for me.

A/n: this is just 🤌

You shouldn't be doing this, you were an Angel, one of the highest ranking members but looking up at the King of hell, the very man that Adam warned you about. Even when you were alive you knew better than to mess with him.

And yet, you found yourself unable to care at all.

You were on your knees, the man grasping your chin as he gave you a smirk but his eyes held something completely different.

"you used to be so devout when you were alive, what would they think of you now with the devil's cock in your mouth?" Lucifer then let his fingers glide down your cheek as you arched into his touch.

He couldn't explain why he wanted you so badly, he may have wanted to corrupt you but he also wanted to as his, he wanted you to be his and his alone.

Swallowing thickly, you could feel your heart race as you nodded your head and with a snap of your fingers you were lying in his bed. His dark eyes looking you over, wings wide and those horns. You wanted nothing more than to touch them.

"Sir....please..." you wanted something that Adam would never give you. "Please fuck me."

Lucifer grins, a mischievous glint in his red eyes as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. His voice was low and husky as he spoke, his words dripping with desire.

"Such a dirty mouth for such a pure girl." He stated hovering above you, his hands slipping under your dress. "Please...call me Lucifer and trust me Angel. I've been waiting for this moment for far too long," he whispered, his voice laced with a mixture of excitement and possessiveness. "I'm going to show you just how much better I am than Adam will ever be." His voice was thick with desire as he continued, his words a blend of dominance and longing.

"You're mine. Only mine," he growled. "I'm going to make you forget about him completely. I'll make you scream my name, beg for me to take you. I'll give you pleasure like you've never experienced before."

His lips then crashed against yours, a surge of passion and hunger fueling the kiss. His tongue danced with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth as if he were claiming it as his own. His hands roamed over your body, his touch igniting sparks of desire within you.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmured against your lips, his voice raw with emotion. "Now that you're mine, I'm never letting you go."

With each word, Lucifers confidence grew, his grip on you tightening. He was determined to make you forget heaven,forget about Adam and to show you just how much better he could be. And in that moment, as his lips trailed down your neck and his hands explored your body, you couldn't deny the overwhelming desire that burned within you. You were his, and he was going to make damn sure you knew it.

Whimpering against his lips, you rubbed yourself against his groin as your breaths came out in shallow pants.

Lucifer's desire intensified as he felt your body pressing against his, your movements igniting a fire within him. His hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you closer as he ground against you, the bulge in his pants growing harder with each passing moment.

"Mmm, you're so eager, aren't you, Angel?" he purred, his voice thick with need. "You want me to fuck you, don't you? To feel me deep inside you, claiming every inch of you?"

His hands now roaming over your body as he slowly undressed you, his touch gentle yet possessive. His eyes drank in the sight of your exposed skin, his breathing growing heavier with each passing second.

"I want you too spread those pretty legs for me."

As you complied, he quickly shed his own clothes, his cock springing free, hard and throbbing with need. He crawled onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he gazed down at you with hunger in his eyes.

"You're mine, Angel. And I'm going to make you feel so good," he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of possessiveness and adoration.

Without further hesitation, he plunged into you, filling you completely with one swift thrust. A moan escaped his lips as he felt your warmth enveloping him, a perfect fit that sent waves of pleasure through his body.

He began to move, his thrusts deep and powerful, each one driving you closer to the edge. His hands held onto you tightly, his hips meeting yours in a rhythm that was both primal and passionate. His eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with a mixture of possessiveness and aching desire.

"You're so fucking tight, Angel," he groaned, his voice laced with pleasure. "You feel so good wrapped around my cock."

He quickened his pace, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he chased his own release. His lips found yours once again, claiming them in a passionate kiss as he poured all his desire and need into you.

"Come for me, Angel," he whispered against your lips. "Let me feel you clench around me. Let me make you mine in every way."

As you both reached the peak of pleasure, Lucifer's own release washed over him, his body shuddering with the intensity of it. He spilled himself inside you, his moans mingling with yours as you both rode out the waves of ecstasy.

Lucifer collapsed beside you, his breathing heavy yet satisfied. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace, his lips pressing gentle kisses against your forehead.

"You're mine, Angel," he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of possessiveness and tenderness. "And I'll do everything in my power to make you happy."

[pinguwrites]

In The Light of the Moon | Thomas Shelby

Pairing -> dark!thomas shelby x innocent!reader

Summary -> Having enough of being mistreated by your family, you decide to runaway to the small town of Birmingham. There, you meet the feared gangster, Thomas Shelby, whose intentions with you are less than pure.

Warnings -> smut (minors dni), kinda dark tommy, innocent!reader, mentions of abuse, p in v, anal, oral (both sides), fingering, allusion to stalking, bunny pet name (briefly, as a joke), lingerie, spanking, very light breeding, bleeding, pain, first time for reader

Word count: 5k

Disclaimer: Peaky Blinders characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” Tommy asked, taking a quick drag of his cigarette, the white smoke curling up in the cold, bitter air.

You hugged your body with your arms and averted your eyes. “Sir, I have to go home. It’s almost night.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, amused. “Home? The streets?”

You didn’t have anything to say to that. You were sleeping on the streets, ever since you ran away from your abusive family in London. You had nothing with you but a bag of sandwiches you were carefully portioning, some cash, and the things you were wearing — a light skirt with intricate pink patterns and boots.

“Are you here just to make fun of me?” you said, a little annoyed.

He stepped forward and brushed his fingers against your cheek. You shuddered at the feeling, involuntary leaning into his warm touch, but then you realized what you were doing and backed away.

“Such a pretty girl,” he complimented. When you pulled away, he stopped his caressing, but he didn’t bother to create space between you two. No, he seemed to like the way things were. “Where’s your family?”

“You don’t need to know,” you huffed. You were trying to sound intimidating, but your tone betrayed your emotions. You were vulnerable, without a clue of what to do.

He laughed. “You have some bite, sweetheart. Tell me, what’s your name? I told you mine.”

You hesitated.

“What’s your name?” he repeated, more forceful. “Or do you just want me to call you girl? Perhaps bunny?” He chuckled. “You’re cute like one. Ought to get you some fluffy ears and tail, maybe a collar . . .”

“I’m not a bunny!”

This man was embarrassing you. Why’d he have to say things like that? The idea of you wearing an outfit like that, probably provocative based on the manner he was suggesting, made you feel small and upset. How could he say such things so freely?

“Then what’s your name?”

You grumbled but told him anyway.

“Good girl.”

You ignored the way his words made your body tingle and warm up in all the wrong places.

“Now, did you run away?”

“Why are you so curious?” you questioned, not wanting to tell him. What if he got in contact with your family and found out about the reward they were offering for your return?

“Because you’re a strange girl who shouldn’t be here, on my fuckin’ property, and I like to know who goes on my property and why.”

“Are you a gangster, Mr. Shelby?”

You were starting to think this man wasn’t just some wealthy mayor, but rather a criminal, the kind you were always warned about. He was far too crass to be of a higher class, but he certainly had power, or he wouldn’t be acting this way.

Tommy took another puff of his cigarette. “Ah, so you know a thing or two. Thought you’d be stupid.”

“I’m not—” you cut yourself off, not wanting to engage in such useless conversation. “We’re done here. Goodnight, Mr. Shelby.”

He grabbed your wrist before you could leave. “You think I’m letting you go out there, alone? With no family to keep you safe, no man to protect you? No. You’re coming home with me. I’ll give food, shelter, nice clothes,” he tugged at your dirty dress, “a place to sleep. How does that sound?”

“I don’t even know you!” you sputtered out. “I can’t go to a stranger’s house and live with them.”

His eyes darkened. “And what is the alternative? Lay on concrete? Starve to death? Wait for some bastard to come along and hurt you the way sick men like to hurt little girls?”

You were at a loss. You had nothing to say, no argument to defend yourself. Staying at Tommy’s place sounded comfortable, but you couldn’t.

“I—I can’t.”

Tommy sighed and pulled you closer to him. “I’m just telling ya’, you wouldn’t be a burden on me. I won’t harm you, and I won’t touch you if you don’t want it.”

“You’re touching me right now!”

"There's a difference," he growled, pushing you up against him, his face inches from yours. "I'm protecting you. Do you think I’d hurt you?”

You whimpered, scared. “N-no. I—I don’t know!” you stuttered. “I barely know you, Mr. Shelby.”

You turned your head so you didn’t have to be so close to him, or look him directly in the eyes.

“You’re staying with me,” he said in your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

“. . . Yes, sir,” you breathed out, flustered at the close proximity.

===

Tommy led you back to his apartment. He got you some food and water, a cozy room to sleep in, and a hot bath. He was so generous with everything, and though you were cautious of him at first, you couldn’t help but let your fantasies run wild.

Before you could start daydreaming, Tommy entered the washroom, holding something behind his back.

You shrieked. You had just gotten out of the water and were drying yourself off with the towel, but it was too small to cover your entire body. You squeezed your legs together and covered your chest.

“You can’t be in here!”

Tommy laughed and ignored your words. “Why not? It’s my place.” But he looked away. “You were taking a while, that’s why I came in. I was worried.”

“I’m fine, you can leave now.”

“And what will you wear?”

You didn’t think of that. He hadn’t given you any clothes yet.

He showed you what he was holding, but it didn’t even look like proper clothing, rather undergarments and a skimpy top. You stared at it for a moment, before realizing he was expecting you to take it.

“I can’t wear that,” you protested.

He sighed. “‘I can’t do this’, ‘I can’t do that’, when are you going to learn to do as I tell you? I want to see you wear this, so wear it.”

You didn’t complain after that, though you did hesitate. You made him turn around while you changed, trying to fit the skimpy clothing on your body.

The bra was white and comfortable, but it would easily slip down if someone wanted it to. It accentuated the curve of your tits. It was the sexiest thing you’d ever worn, and you felt horrified at the thought of Tommy seeing you in this thing. It made you feel like a . . . like a prostitute.

The panty barely covered your ass. It was all hanging out for show. What is the point of such outfits? It’s useless! you thought.

“You can turn around now, sir. Just, please don’t stare.”

He did stare, he stared at every part of you like a hungry beast, ready to tear his prey apart. You felt wanted under his gaze, but the whole situation was making you feel a little uncomfortable. You weren’t used to behaving like this, you weren’t used to being around men like Tommy. It was all so new and daunting.

“Walk towards me,” he ordered.

You did so, hugging your body with your arms — a bad habit. Your tits were bouncing slightly with every step, but you made sure it wasn't too obvious. You couldn't help but wonder what your family would think if they saw you like this.

How have you gone from being a rich girl to living on the streets to the arms of a handsome gangster?

“Oh, that’s a nice view, sweetheart.” He licked his lips. “Turn around now.”

You did that as well.

“You see that scrubber on the floor?”

You looked, spotting the thing you used to wash yourself. It must have fallen at some point.

“Yeah, do you want me to pick it up?”

“That’s right.”

You knew your bum would be clear to him if you did, but it was your fault it was on the floor, and you felt bad about it. It was your obligation to pick it up, right? You didn't want to be a poor guest.

"Don't look."

You bent over and picked it up. Mr. Shelby let out a heavy sigh and you immediately felt something poking your behind. He was pressing his body up against you! You tried to get up, but he pushed you back down, holding your waist and shoulder so you didn’t fall over.

“What are you doing?!” You couldn't move with the way he was holding you. It was such a compromising situation, what was he trying to pull?

“You’re so easy,” he groaned. “You don’t question why I want you to wear those things? Or maybe you do know . . . dirty girl.”

He picked and placed you over his shoulders, carrying you through the apartment hallways. He led you over to his room, placing you down on his bed despite you smacking your hands against his back.

“You said you wouldn’t touch me!”

“Only if you didn’t want it. But you want this, don’t you?”

“No!” You tried to get off his bed but he pushed you back down with a thud. “. . . Maybe. I don’t know! I’ve never done this before."

You didn't even know what exactly he wanted to do with you. You were vaguely aware of promiscuous activities ungentlemanly men got up to at night, and that it could sometimes result in babies, but you were uneducated on the details.

His gaze softened. “It’s alright, sweetheart. I know you’re a virgin. I’ll be gentle at first, okay?” He gave you a rough kiss, his tongue flicking against your bottom lip.

"Mmph!"

You tried to push him off you but he wouldn't have any of it. He pinned your arms above your head and continued to ravish you, nipping at your neck with his teeth, running his hands all over your body — your arms, your stomach, your thighs, all the way down to your feet.

His lips finally left yours, but before you could say anything, they were back on.

You couldn't deny, it felt good. This was the best you'd ever felt your entire life, even more so than that one time your desires got the best of you and you tried touching yourself, though that was probably because that time resulted in a swift confession and punishment.

Tommy started grinding his hips between your legs, making you moan against his mouth. He pulled away, still rolling his body. "See? You're enjoying it." He let go of your hands, to which you immediately gripped the back of his shirt. “I know you want this,” he continued. “Say you want this.”

You didn’t say anything, too overwhelmed to respond. You weren’t sure what you wanted.

He stopped and you whined.

“Say you want this,” he said, his nose brushing up against yours. “Say you want me to fuck you.”

“I don’t know, Mr. Shelby. I shouldn’t . . .”

“But you should,” he convinced. “I won’t dump you after I’m done. I’ll take care of you. You’ll live here, with me, okay? You’ll be my sweetheart, my pet.”

He leaned down to kiss you again, but you placed your hands against his chest.

“I don’t know how to have—how to,” you struggled to find the words.

“How to what? Fuck?” He laughed. “I’ll teach ya’. What do you know?”

It felt weird saying it out loud, but you did. “A man and a woman need to be married,” — Tommy huffed at that — “and a man is supposed to take his . . . well, I’m not sure, but he’s supposed to take a part of him and put it inside a woman’s privates.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” he said, but he didn’t look upset at your lack of knowledge. “I’ll show you, but first I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. Do you want to know what I’m going to do to you?”

You nodded your head slowly in anticipation, not ready for how vulgar it was going to be.

“I’m going to split you open on my cock and fuck you till you go dumb,” he said, grabbing his crotch. “This thing here, it’s called a cock, and I’ve got the best one you’ll ever see.” He pulled it out, a hard length, too long and thick to possibly fit in you. It was throbbing, with some type of liquid leaking out the top. “Look at it. This is what I’m going to ram inside your holes — all three of them.”

Your breathing hitched and you gasped. “All of them? I don’t understand—”

He interrupted you by forcing two of his fingers down your throat, making you gag and sputter, tears welling up in your eyes. “My cock will go inside your mouth first. It’ll make me feel good. I’ll teach you how to suck properly, how to lick, how to swallow.”

He removed his now wet fingers, letting you relax for a brief moment, but then he flipped you over onto your stomach and pulled your panties down, giving a nice, hard slap to your ass.

You yelped.

He spread your cheeks apart and pushed his finger in your hole, just a little bit, to give you the idea. You squirmed. It didn’t hurt that much, but you were sure if he went further in it would.

“Then here, sweetheart. We’ll spend a lot of time here. It’s always been my favorite.”

You thought about how his cock was supposed to fit in there. His fingers already felt too big. 

“It won’t fit—”

“—It will. I’ll shove it in until it does.” 

His hand snaked under your stomach and down between your legs. “And here.” He brushed his fingers against your folds and over your entrance. “Your pussy. I’ll fuck it, and you’ll take it, like the good girl I know you are.”

You felt your heart beat against your chest like it was going to jump out. In excitement or fear, you did not know.

“Will it hurt?”

“Yes, and it may even bleed, but only for a while. I promise I’ll make it feel good. Now, flip over and spread your legs.”

You rested on your back and widened your legs, wondering what he was going to do when he placed a pillow under your hips, moved your panty to the side, and kissed your pussy with fervor.

“What are you doing?” you asked curiously, the sensation feeling warm and weird.

“I need to get you ready, and I want to show you what an orgasm feels like.”

“An orgasm?”

“You’ll see.”

He flicked his tongue over your bud, sucking on it, holding your hips in place. It felt like heaven, enough to make you forget your guilt and focus on the way he was eating you out. 

“Oh,” you moaned softly, looking down at Tommy. He was looking up at you, observing your reactions, trying to see if this made you feel good or that. He was doing it with such precision, too. It felt sloppy and messy, the sounds of his kisses a loud pucker, but it couldn’t have been unthoughtful, because it felt so good.

He kept doing it. Your body was tingling as he started to get more passionate, finally pushing his tongue inside your pussy.

“Huh,” you let out.

“I’m going to put my fingers inside now,” he told you. “Just relax.” He slid his hand up and down your thigh soothingly. “Relax.”

You loosened your tense muscles and rested your head on the pillow. You shut your eyes, trying to let your thoughts go blank, but the sudden intrusion of his finger was too painful for you to ignore.

“It hurts,” you whispered.

“I’ll go slower.”

He pushed in a little further. He wasn’t going slower, or at least, it didn’t feel like he was.

“How much more needs to go in?”

“About three more quarters of what’s already there,” he guessed. “But I’ll need to put two more fingers in after that, and then my cock.”

You looked down at his cock. It was still open, hanging firm out of his trousers. Huge and thick and fat. You were sure he was lying when he said it would fit. You imagined him trying to push it in, but failing, because how could that possibly make its way inside you?

“I wish it didn’t hurt, sweetheart. I wish I could take away your pain.”

Now his finger was halfway through. It was like someone had placed an object where it was not meant to be. How could this be natural if it was so painful?

“Just a little bit more.” He continued running his other hand up and down your thigh. “You’re taking it so well.”

He pushed the rest of it in, letting it stay for a bit.

“Shh,” he soothed. He brushed your hair out of your face, curling his finger inside. “You’re alright, you’ll be alright.”

He pulled his finger out. There was a bit of blood on it, mixing with your clear juices. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, looking away. It was disgusting.

“No, don’t apologize. It’s normal. I won’t have you feeling ashamed of yourself.”

He added another and did the same thing. Eventually, he was pushing in and out at a slow, steady pace. It was horribly painful, but it was starting to feel a little good, especially with the way he started licking your pussy again.

“One more. Just one more.”

You cried out. “Too much!”

He didn’t respond.

Your walls were being stretched, and you felt like you were a stretchy piece of fabric about to get ripped apart. But the pleasure of his tongue managed to counter it a little.

You felt a strange sensation in your belly, coupled with pain.

“I—I,” you tried to say.

“I know. Come for me, sweetheart. Come on my fingers.”

You came — whatever that meant. You felt like you were at some peak, a little dizzy in the head, with some substance leaking out of your body.

You panicked, worried it was something else, but to your shock, it was white, and Tommy was lapping it up.

“W-what’s that?”

“Your cum. It’s what happens when you orgasm.”

You nodded your head in understanding, even though you didn’t fully understand. It was like heaven, pure bliss, and as long as it was happening, you were fine with being ignorant. You just wanted to feel that way again, and you wanted to make Tommy feel that way, too. 

“Are you ready, sweetheart?”

Tommy took his cock in his hands and gave it a few pumps. You sat up. He pushed the tip to your lips and you gave it a lick. It was an alright taste. 

You looked up at Tommy nervously, running your fingers down his length.

“Just leave some kisses along it,” he instructed. “I’m not expecting your first time to be perfect.”

You did as he said. He didn’t make any noises, but you were observant and could tell his breathing was getting a little uneven. When you put his tip in your mouth, his hand went to the back of your head, guiding and gentle.

You pulled away. “Do I just . . . take it all?”

“Yes, sweetheart. It’s okay if you gag, just push it all the way in. Breathe through your nose.”

Calming your nerves, you slipped about a fourth of his cock into your mouth, wetting it, swirling your tongue around the way you did sweets like ice cream. 

“Use your hands for what can’t fit.”

You started pumping the rest of his length, the way you saw him do.

Tommy finally made a noise, a little groan. It made you feel more confident that what you were doing was right, so you started sucking more passionately, with more enthusiasm, taking in more of his length — enough to make a difference, but not enough to make you gag.

Tommy let out a little choke and started pushing your head down on him. “Think you can take all of it?”

You couldn’t say anything with your mouth filled, but it was a yes. You wanted to push yourself.

“Good.”

He gave a quick, experimental thrust into your mouth, one that made you gag. Tears welled up in your eyes, but it was gone after a few seconds. It was just so unexpected. It didn’t hurt much, it just felt odd and uncomfortable.

He kept thrusting, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside your mouth. Every time you thought it couldn’t go any further, he proved you wrong. Now you really were crying. You thought that maybe he would stop, but all he did was make a shushing sound and wipe away your tears.

You tried to make the experience as pleasurable as possible for him, and it seemed to be satisfying enough because he didn’t ask you to do anything different. He just had that blank stare, grunting, the only sounds in the room ones of him and the slurping noise you were making.

After a few more minutes, he told you he was coming, and forced you to swallow his sticky, white liquid. 

He pulled out and you coughed. 

You went to him for some comfort, but he was already leaving the room.

You were confused, your throat sore, but then he came back with a glass of water and a wet towel. He cleaned off your face and helped you drink. It made you feel much better.

“I’m tired, Mr. Shelby,” you said.

“Such a princess,” he responded. “Have to do some work once and decide you don’t like it? Just want your own pleasure?”

His words made you look down. Now that you knew how it felt to orgasm that was all you wanted to do, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t enjoy your mouth on Tommy’s cock. You were sure that you would get used to it after a few more times, and soon it would stop feeling so uncomfortable. 

“No.”

“It’s okay. All you have to do now is take it.”

You remembered his words. He was going to take your ass next. 

“Can’t we wait a bit—?”

“No,” he growled, pushing you on your hands and knees. “I’ve waited too fuckin’ long.”

Waited too long?

“And besides,” he continued. “Don’t you want this?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “But I just want a little break—”

He slapped your ass hard and you cried out. “What do I have to do to make you listen to me, huh? Is it a good spanking? ‘cause I can do that.”

“No,” you whimpered. “I’ll be good, m’sorry.”

He spanked you again, pulling your underwear all the way down and tossing it to the side of the room. “I think I do want to spank you. Pretty, rich girls like you don’t get much discipline, eh?”

You did, but you didn’t know how to say it.

He pulled your top down a little, to reveal some small scars. You knew he could see them, but you couldn’t see his reaction.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” he asked.

“Yes, yes!”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means doing as you tell me, sir.”

Satisfied with your response, he rubbed your sore ass, trying to make it feel better.

He grabbed a bottle from the nightstand and applied it on his hands. “This is lube, sweetheart. It’ll reduce the friction.”

He slid his lubed-up finger in your ass and you hissed.

It was the same process he did with your pussy. He pushed in and out, stretching out your hole. It hurt, and you were sure it was bleeding a little, but after a while, it began to feel pleasurable.

Tommy’s fingers started rubbing your clit, distracting you from the pain. He pressed the tip of his fat cock in your ass, shoving it inside it.

“Mr. Shelby, slow down!” you squeaked out.

He didn’t listen. He pushed his cock further in, and it made you feel like your insides were going to snap if he stretched them too much.

“Mmm,” you winced, “is that all?”

“Fuck. That’s only half.”

Tommy held your shoulder with his other hand on your waist. “So tight,” he murmured, pushing further in. “You’re going to make a good pet, I can tell.”

The term was degrading, but you didn’t say anything, not like you had the guts to when he was inside you, not after he warned you that you would get a spanking if you didn’t behave like a good girl.

“Oh, Mr. Shelby.”

He pushed himself all the way in. You felt so full of his cock, and you had half a mind to ask him to stop. He was beginning to move, slowly at first, making sure that you were okay with it.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Tommy asked. The hand on your waist moved to your top, his fingers sliding underneath it.

“Y-yeah.”

“Good.”

He picked up the pace, his balls slapping against your body. Suddenly, the force of his thrusting was pushing you forward, the only thing stopping you from falling over was his grip. You cried out, the pain and pleasure too much for you to handle. 

Your breasts started to bounce, but their movement was being held by the top he gave you, which Tommy slowly pulled up. Tommy pinched your nipples, flicking them, twisting them, pulling on them, whatever he wanted. You whined, half-heartedly trying to shove him away, but while he did stop, he was still cupping your breasts in his hands, continuing to ram your ass. 

‘This is what I want from you,” he grunted, thrusting his cock deeper and deeper inside. “Most days, I’ll want to fuck you like this. I’ll — ah — I’ll expect you to be ready on your hands and knees when I tell you to.”

Occasionally, you could feel the scrape of his pants against your skin, reminding you that his clothes were still on. You moaned when he started rubbing your clit more vigorously.

“Spread your legs further apart,” he ordered.

You did, which only made him gain access to a deeper part inside of you. 

He continued his brutal assault for a couple more minutes until he changed his position. He forced you to lay down on your stomach while he draped his body over your back, thrusting stiff and rough. Now, he could start kissing your shoulders, the back of your neck, any part of your body he couldn’t reach before.

He finally came into your hole, his whiteness spurting out. You could feel it drip out and down your thighs. You tried to wipe it away but he wouldn’t let you.

He flipped you over on your back. He took off your top completely, admiring your naked body. Despite the fact that this man had just taken your virginity, his hungry stare made you cover yourself up. You supposed it was because you weren’t used to it.

“Oi!”

You immediately sprawled your body, fearing a reprimand. 

“There ya’ go.”

He grabbed another wet towel and wiped off your body. He told you it was important, to keep clean and safe.

As you expected, he didn’t give you much of a break. In this hour, you figured that he could only fuck you — or prefer to — when his cock was hard, and within a few moments, it was already starting to rise up.

Once he got his cock inside your pussy, all the way in, despite your squirms, he started fucking — rough, hard, and fast.

“So good,” he praised. “So good for me.”

You whined in response. He was gripping your waist like his life depended on it, making sure you couldn’t squirm or move away. 

“You’re learning so well. Keep still.”

His movements were making the bed and your body shake. You whined, pathetic mewls leaving your mouth. You really weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. Your limbs were starting to feel sore and your mind foggy, like if you didn’t take a break you would pass out from the sheer intensity of the moment alone.

But you didn’t want to. You fought to open your eyes. You didn’t want Tommy to know you couldn’t take it anymore, that would be embarrassing. 

He finally came inside of you, locking your hips together as he murmured something about your breasts getting bigger and swollen, which you didn’t understand, but didn’t ask for clarification regardless.

He pulled out and collapsed beside you, droplets of sweat trickling down his forehead. He was exhausted, and so were you.

After taking a few minutes to yourselves, Tommy said, “I’m never going to let you go, you hear me? Never.”

You didn’t say anything. Somewhere in all that fucking you had accepted your fate. You belonged to Thomas Shelby now, and that was just the way things had to be.

“I ran away,” you finally confessed. “My family . . . they weren’t nice to me. Promise me,” you said seriously, looking into Tommy’s beautiful eyes. “Promise me you won’t send me back. If . . . if you don’t want me anymore, you can just send me on my way, not back to them. Promise?”

Tommy laughed, as if what you had just said was absurd.

“I won’t let you go back to your family. Those oil bastards.”

You paused. How did he know they were in the oil business?

“How did you—?”

“Shhh.” Tommy placed a finger over your lips, silencing your words. “You’re tired. It’s time to sleep.”

“But—”

“Sleep.” He caressed your face, running his fingers through your hair. You couldn’t fight the command, you were truly feeling sleepy, and all you wanted to do was shut your eyes and rest.

But that nagging thought in your head. How did he know?

He didn’t give you any more time to think. He pulled you close to him, close enough so that your head was resting on his shoulder and your legs were draped over his body.

“Sweet dreams. Tomorrow we’ll have a few more rounds. You’ll need your rest.”

And with that, your eyes fluttered shut and you were taken away into the abyss of darkness, into your dreams. 

Taglist:

@henrywintersdearestgirl

@alice-drysdale

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Logan as your teacher.

You're one of the senior students, experienced, sometimes going out on missions with them. His class is mostly about control. Learning to control your powers, your emotions, making sure you're as focused on the job as possible.

The last thing you're doing is focusing.

How the fuck are you supposed to focus on class when Logan's standing there? In his plaid shirt, jeans, those dangerous eyes flicking across the class and occasionally landing on you.

You're distracted, not listening to anything he says. You're just imagining him fucking you. Dragging you into his office and making you suck his cock if you want an A. Imagine him letting you kiss him all over, touch him, fuck him...

It's legal, you think to yourself. I'm twenty. It's legal...

Not like anything is gonna happen.

The class ends. You realize it because everyone stands up to leave and you're pulled back to reality. You hastily gather your stuff and start walking when Logan calls out your name. You turn to him.

“Stay for a while, we need to talk,” he tells you, crossing his arms as he leans back against his desk.

You sigh softly. You've been...barely passing his class. In fact, you're not even sure you're passing anymore. The weird thing is you don't care. As long as you get to see him, you really don't care if you have to repeat this class again and again and again.

You walk towards him, the last student that leaves closing the door after himself. You stand in front of him, backpack slung over one shoulder. “Yeah?”

-

Logan eyes you. He's trying his best to control himself. To be the adult here. You're just twenty. Just a kid.

And he sees how you look at him. He's been alive for two centuries. He knows what lust looks like, he knows when someone wants him. And you want him.

You want him bad.

He can smell your arousal as his eyes study your body. His cock twitches in his pants, alert, and he suppresses the need.

“Are you aware that you've got a C in my class?” he asks.

You blink. “Wh—Why? What?” you stutter. He can hear your heart beating faster. He's got you.

“Yeah. C, kid. C. You're not gonna pass my class with a C. The minimum is a B.”

You sigh, glancing down at the floor. “I'm...I'm sorry. I just...I guess I've been a little distracted lately.”

“Yeah?” he asks. “Is something goin' on, kid?”

“...no,” you murmur.

He hears the spike in your heartbeat. He knows you're lying.

“Kid,” he says in warning. “Look, it's okay. You can tell me.”

When you continue to avoid his gaze, he puts a hand under your chin and tilts your head up so you look at him. “Come on. What's wrong?”

You swallow thickly. He can see it in your eyes, you want to tell him. You're so close to tell him.

You shake your head again. “I—I'm sorry, I can't. You'd...you wouldn't understand.”

He sighs. “Kid, I know,” he says quietly. “I was asking you to give you the chance to tell me.”

Your eyes widen. You're confused. “Huh?”

“I know why you're distracted. You think I can't smell it? Think I can't feel it?”

You blush bright red, your eyes darting around the room as you look for a way out. “I...I...”

He cups your face, caresses your cheek with his thumb. “It's alright. I'm not mad. I'm disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” you echo, staring up at him with those gorgeous, innocent eyes.

“Disappointed you haven't done anything about it,” he says quietly and grins.

Your heart rate picks up, your eyes widen. He grins. “Logan—Professor Howlett, I...I'm sorry. I'm...”

“Kid, it's okay. It's fine. You think I'd call you out on it if I didn't want something to happen? Hm?”

You blink up at him and he smiles. “You know what? I'll help you pass the class. Meet me in my office at four, okay? Not a second later.” He pauses, a sly smirk forms on his lips. “Otherwise I'll have to give you extra credit assignments to make up for lost time. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes,” you reply nervously.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.” You blush a little. The way you say it is different from the way you usually call him sir. You're flirting with him and he's loving it.

“That's a good girl.”

-

I'M SO SORRY this was totally inspired on this teacher I have a crush on and I was like...what if Logan was your teacher??? So yeah 😭

Blog masterlist

[vesppperoro]

hii uhh, i had a little idea that id like to share if thats ok, it might be quite triggering tho so be warned ‼️

a sinner demon reader thats based on a teddy bear, because theyre too soft and mushy personality-wise, and they ended up in hell due to being suicidal. like their whole body is covered in stitches thats supposed to be a metaphor for sh scars

do whatever u want with that info, u can even ignore it if u like, have a nice day ❤️

Hazbin Hotel Cast with a Teddy Bear!Sinner Reader

Includes: Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty, Sir. Pentious, Cherri Bomb, Alastor.

A/N: this is such an interesting idea! I’m going based on my own experiences as someone like this, along with research. I appreciate you for trusting me with this <3 I definitely WILL make a p2!! Might write for this sinner more tbh I loved writing them!! I thought you meant a child and I wrote that I’m so sorry 😭

Charlie Morningstar

She truly didn’t understand why you were in hell.

You are such a sweetheart! She adores you.

When you showed up to the hotel one day, without clothes and covered in stitches, she was immediately worried.

She took you in and washed you up as best as she could.

You were like a child! Why were you even here?

She was happy that you wanted to be redeemed, however.

She became a mother figure to you.

You go to her when you’re sad and you hug her frequently.

She traces your scars sometimes and you two share a silent moment together.

A silent moment of understanding.

She loves picking you up and holding you!

She hugs you like you’re an actual teddy bear.

She’s the one you go to for emotional things.

She’s good at comforting you. She somehow knows what you wanna hear at all times.

Vaggie

She became a secondary mother figure to you.

She was Charlie’s girlfriend, so of course she was.

She understood your situation and was pissed heaven casted a sweetie like you because of your lowest point.

She’s the more levelheaded one.

She’s the one who gives you advice and stuff like that. While Charlie is the more emotionally supportive one, Vaggie is the more mature and steady one.

She also traces your scars. Even if you don’t like them, she tells you you’re beautiful no matter what.

When you told her more of your story, she almost cried.

A child feeling this way broke her to pieces. Especially since you were so soft.

Other than the sad stuff, she loves cuddling you.

You, her, and Charlie sometimes have cuddle sessions with you in the middle because you’re so warm + soft + squishy.

She would kill anyone for you. You’re just so adorable!

She tries to teach you to fight but gives up when you don’t want to hurt anyone.

Angel Dust

Honestly, he saw himself in you.

A lost, scared, and lonely child. You didn’t know the cruelties of the world, aside from those cruelties in your mind.

He tries his best to comfort you. He’s not the best with words, but he’s always there for you.

He calls you sugar bear! He loves you to death.

He would go to the ends of hell for you.

He treats you like he wished to be when he was the same way.

You two share a lot of similarities, so you bond well.

He nearly cried when you told him your stitches were scars from sh.

He embraces you any time he can.

He tries to be the parental figure he needed so you can have a better life, somewhere no one would judge you.

Husk

He’s stubborn, like a dad. He acts like one too.

A hardheaded, yet sweet dad.

He’s like the father you never had. Or did have. Whichever.

He’s the bartender, so he knew how to comfort.

But when you told him your story, he almost broke.

You two definitely sing some sort of song together. Maybe Angel or Vaggie joins.

He cuddles you and hides you with his wings.

If you give him baby doe eyes, he might just take you on a flight.

Husk is SUPER protective over you. He’s very similar to Vaggie in a way when it comes to protection.

He gives you good advice but he still hides behind his tough guy exterior.

He doesn’t understand why you’re down here, even if you tell him. You’re so sweet!

Either way, he adores you.

He loves patting your head and messing with your fuzzy ears.

Might even boop your nose once or twice.

Late night talks.

He probably talked you down from trying to commit again.

Niffty

Another tiny person! Yay!

You’re not a bad boy. She may be a psycho, but she would never call you bad.

Actually, she did once and felt bad once you cried.

She likes to hang out with you since you’re both tiny!

She cuddles and hugs you like you’re her stuffed animal.

Bug killers! Even if you don’t wanna kill bugs, she’s dragging you along anyways.

She tries to hide her needle from you since Husk told her what your stitches meant.

Alastor has to babysit both of you basically.

You and her do almost everything together! You’re best friends!

She sneaks into the kitchen and grabs you both snacks so you can watch a movie.

She makes you sleep in her bed sometimes so she can cuddle you.

Sir. Pentious

He’s a dad. Or, he was.

He treats you like he wishes he treated his son before he passed.

He acts like your father. An awkward father, but he still tries.

He also protects you.

Expect him to curl his tail around you and cuddle you when you’re sad.

He literally cried when you told him your story.

He tells you anytime he can that it’s not your fault. Your stitches are still beautiful.

Best girl dad ever.

Buys you anything he wants, even if he’s broke. (Except sharp things)

He teaches you some things about inventing!

You made him a little metal flower and he was so overjoyed. He took it with him everywhere.

He still remembers you, even if he’s in Heaven now.

Cherri Bomb

Chaotic auntie energy.

She would do ANYTHING for you.

She picks you up and places you on her hip like a baby.

She loves your ears! She also adores how sweet you are.

She wouldn’t admit it, but you’re the cutest thing she’s ever seen.

Even if you tell her your story, she wouldn’t see you differently. You’re a child, a child who went through so much.

Hangouts with her and Angel are a MUST.

They try to avoid doing the normal around you and focus on fun time.

She took you with her when she had a territorial fight one time and you almost cried.

She felt so bad that she bought you anything you wanted for a week.

She did anything you wanted to do, even if Husk or someone else said no to you.

Basically, if you wanted something, you went to her.

Alastor

He’s not one to like kids, really.

He was, however, kinder to you.

He did anything to protect you.

He was like your insane uncle.

He was the one who taught you how to use your abilities. Maybe to help you, or to manipulate you when you grow.

He made you jambalaya once and it became your favorite dish to share with him!

He introduced you to radio and he was happy that you loved it.

He started bringing you to his studio whenever he did a radio show.

He took you to an overlord meeting once. That’s how you met Rosie.

He pats your head like a dog lol.

Don’t expect him to be emotionally available. But he will be there to have fun sometimes.

[untoldstar]

yandere boss when you find another job

warning: fem reader, yandere themes, obsessive behavior, abuse of power

At first, he notices a change in your demeanor, you do as you're told but you don't engage with him as much as you used to, the conversations you two had felt quite..personal to him, you two would talk in his office where no one would overhear or interfere, you even had inside jokes that only you two would understand, it felt special to him, so when conversations with you wouldn't go past five sentences alarms started going off in his head, did he say something to upset you? has one of your co-workers been bothering you? just tell him he can take care of it in the blink of an eye! it's not like it would be the first time he's done that for you. Perhaps your workload has been too exhausting? he'll happily give you a vacation if it means you'll treat him how you used to

This man reflects for a whole day to make he didn't upset you in any way, he gives you simple errands and prolongs your breaks but that only seems to spark even more of an unpleasant emotion in you, he replays all the security cameras in the office to see if someone has been harassing you which doesn't turn out to be the case but it does lead him to notice you being on the phone more often than usual and his mind immediately goes south, has she gotten a boyfriend? when? how have I not noticed this..

He backtracks all your calls to find out who you've been talking with so he can deal with them properly but he finds that most of your calls have been with another company..what would you need from another company? a job application? you were planning on leaving him?!

He becomes so paranoid, he goes to every length possible, he makes everyone in the office guilt trip you into staying with comments on how work would suck if you weren't there, how they would have a crisis every week if you weren't there to handle it quickly and swiftly every time, just what would they do without you?

He almost goes as far as giving you a bad reputation in the company you were planning on applying to when it finally happened..

You walking into his office with the most serious face you've had since he hired you, he listens to you utter the words "I'm resigning" from your beautiful soft lips and the rest is turning into muffled mumbles in his brain because the only thing he's thinking of is locking you both in his office forever where he can keep his eye on you, where you can't run away from him.

You finish the speech you so clearly prepared and exhaled while looking at him expectantly, guilt written all over your face, he doesn't say anything for a few seconds, the silence filling up his spacious office until it's broken with a deep chuckle, your shoulders slump down, that definitely wasn't the reaction you were expecting, he rises from his chair and starts to make his way around the desk to where your standing, the sound of his hitting the floor with every step only makes you more nervous "what could you possibly want from another company love? everything you need is right here!" you shift your weight to step back "I..well I already told you why-" he steps closer invading your space "ah yes you mentioned it but that's simply not good enough, see, all the reasons you've mentioned I can take care of I still fail to see why you would go searching for that somewhere else, could it be me you're escaping?" you're eyes blow wide "no! of course not..look, sir, I'm sorry but even though I know you're fully capable of providing me with what I'm searching for but I've already decided..working with you has been-" you jolt as he slams his hand on the desk trapping you against it, his head hangs low for a second before he lifts it and your heart skips a beat at the look in his eyes, you've never seen him look at you that way the entire time you've worked here " ah..your behavior over the past two weeks makes sense now, you were too guilty to act the way you usually do because you knew it was special too! and you just couldn't bring yourself to do that when you were planning on leaving..oh you sweet little thing, it must have been so hard to act so cold towards someone so special to you but alas, your efforts are in vain because you're not going anywhere my love.."

[sttoru]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 '𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐒, CHAPTER II: you smuggle the wounded man into your dorm room and nurse him back to health in secret. a fragile bond forms between you and the stranger - whose name you learn is toji - as you spend your first night together.

word count. 6.6k-ish

tags. assassin!toji fushiguro x college student!female reader. sfw. bits of angst. mentions of blood, knives, murder. reader gets called 'woman'. general warnings: size difference. age gap (reader early 20's, toji early 30's). chapter one here

Three. Two. One.

You accept your miserable fate with a gulp. You prepare yourself for the unbearable pain that awaits your body until the last breath leaves your lungs. You hope the anguish lasts for a second or two before your vision turns pitch black. Before your soul meets its maker. Or before it gets lost somewhere more peaceful than this life you've led.

Closing your eyes, waiting for the impact, and uttering your final words in your head felt like eternity. Maybe the man is playing with your emotions before he decides to make an end to your life. Perhaps he is such a nasty psycho. And you can’t believe that out of all people who could’ve met him tonight on the street, you did.

You sniff. Life is unfair. Even at your final moments, you couldn’t help but feel you got the short end of the stick. You wait and wait, but your death doesn’t arrive. You sigh and ask whoever can hear your thoughts to make it quick.

“Shit,” Your ‘murderer’ coughs. It sounds like a painful cough, one that came out the back of his throat. You hear metal clattering on wet concrete not a second later. Your eyes shoot open at the sudden noise, your vision instantly filling with a frightening sight. You watch as the injured man starts to cough up blood. He’s unable to lift a finger in that state of his.

This is your chance to make a run for it. The voice in your head is screaming at you to move and get yourself to safety. It’s a perfect opportunity to get help. But something inside of you is urging you to stay.

Any normal person would have escaped by now.

‘I must be out of my mind,’ you silently think. You don’t loosen the grip you have on your scarf, the one pressed against the man’s open wound. Your body is yelling at you—begging you to move away—yet your heart is pleading to stay put. There is no way your body wins over the strong will of your heart. Your soul, that’s strangely connected to his, a man that threatened to kill you without hesitation.

You surely have lost your mind.

“Sir, oh my god,” you panic. You chose to stay, however have no clue what to do. You’re trying your best to think of a solution to all of this. Your eyes catch a glimpse of your now wet phone laying in a puddle of rain. You hope it still works. Well, even if it does, you surely can’t call an ambulance for the man. He had stated that he didn’t want any help.

If you consider the possibility of him being a murderer, you’d understand that he wouldn’t want an ambulance to be involved. You shake your head as your body desperately tries to continue fighting against your heart’s desires. ‘Sympathizing with a possible murderer. God I really must have gone insane,’ you curse yourself out in your head.

The sound of heavy breathing brings you back into the current moment. You catch the way the bloodied man is trying to regain his strength. You try to coax him into staying still, “sir, please don’t move. It could worsen your injury.”

You voicing your worries only causes the man to try and push you away. Despite his weakened state, the little push he gives you is enough to make you lose the grip on your crimson stained scarf. You watch in pure horror as more blood pours down his black shirt, onto his white pants.

“No, please. Please listen to me,” you don’t know why you’re begging a grown man, a killer, to listen to you for his own sake. You shouldn’t even be here. You should be back in your dorm room, in your cozy bed, watching a series while it pours outside. You shouldn’t be playing the hero to a stranger.

You think quickly. The only option you have aside from an ambulance, is to try and help him out to your best ability. You don’t have anything with you that could help, but you do have some rubbing alcohol in your dorm. That could work as a disinfectant. Stitching his wound up is the real challenge.

“Okay, uhm,” you try to think of a way to do this as smoothly as possible. You quickly grab the knife from the ground and shiver at the sight of the blood on the handle. Time is ticking and it won’t be long until the man in front of you loses his consciousness and possibly… dies.

You take off your coat, making haste to do so. Your hands are trembling, and your heart is stammering. You hiss as you tear apart the material of your coat using the sharp knife. The leather should help slow down the bleeding. Even if it’s only for a little bit. That’s all you really need.

“Here,” you quickly replace the scarf with the cut piece of your coat. You wrap it around his waist and fasten it, making sure it doesn’t slip off. The man does not say a word nor does he fight you off. All the resistance is gone from his weary body. That should tell you enough; he’s barely holding on. His heavy yet faint breathing is the only sign that reassures you that he’s not fallen unconscious.

You collect your bag and all the other things scattered on the dirty ground of the alleyway. You don’t want to leave any evidence of you being here, helping an alleged killer with getting away. Your heart tells you it’s fine, but your body is telling you that you’ll regret all of it. Time will tell which is the truth.

You stand up. Barely. Your knees are nearly giving out on you because of the stress and anxiety, though the adrenaline pumping through your blood is helping you stay composed. Your eyes follow the flow of the man’s blood as it mixes with the rainwater on the concrete. You can’t clean that up. The only thing you can do about it is pray—pray that the rain will wash all of it away. Down the drains.

“Are you okay?” You whisper, checking in on the stranger. He doesn’t answer. You crouch down in front of him, a worried expression on your face as you carefully move the hair from his eyes. They’re closed. You freak out and your initial reaction is to gently tap his cheek for any sign of life, “sir? Sir? Don’t tell me he’s—"

“Shut up,” his gruff voice echoes in your ears. It seems like he still wants you gone, though is not trying to actively shoo you away anymore. Not like he can in the awful state he is in.

The stranger coughs again, his eyelids opening just halfway before closing again. You sigh in relief and move next to him. You lift his arm so that it loosely sits on your shoulders. You grunt softly—the muscles in them makes it a tough job. You try asking him for his compliance, “I’ll help you stand up, okay?”

As expected, you’re met with silence. You take it as an agreement and use all the strength left in your limbs to get up on your feet. It’s a struggle, with you nearly toppling over thrice, but you eventually get the co-operation you’re looking for. The bloodied stranger slowly but surely manages to stand up straight with your aid.

You’re shocked by his large stature. He was intimidating enough when seated, but now that he’s towering over you, his aura is reaching high levels of unsettling. You hope he’s got enough drive left to move his feet. You can’t expect your frail arms to half carry a six-foot-something man.

“Hang in there,” you mutter, trying to cover the anxiety you’re internally facing. You look ahead and move forward in small strides, the steps you’re making are wobbly, as are his. You look up and try to gauge the man’s reactions, though his eyes are once again covered by his wet bangs. All you can make out is the slight twitch of his scarred lips. He’s in pain.

You manage to escape that damned back alley. Your bag is soaked, as are your clothes. You take one quick glance back before you turn the corner and once again pray that the rain washes the blood away. You take the quietest and fastest route back to your dorm.

A couple people pass you by. They don’t look at you funny nor do they bat an eye to the man you’re helping keep balance. They have their own lives that they need to take care of first. The pouring rain makes it harder for them to concentrate on anything else as well. Besides, the material of your coat wrapped around the man’s waist covers up most of the blood. It’s not visible to others.

If someone were to describe the image of the stranger and you from an outsider’s perspective, they’d think you’re just helping your drunk partner back home. It’s not an uncommon sight in the busy streets of Tokyo, especially in the evening.

“Where...” The stranger speaks up, his deep voice hoarser than before. He unexpectedly grips your shoulder. His meaty fingers digging into your flesh makes you wince. He’s only using a small bit of his actual strength and you’re already in pain. You push through and continue helping him forward. “Fuck,” He cusses. He’s starting to become deluded due to the blood loss and pain, “where ‘re—”

The tall man coughs, interrupting himself. You cringe at the sound of that excruciating sound. You could see the lights in the distance. The ones you’re used to seeing when coming back to campus after a night out with your friend. Now, you’re coming back with an unknown man. An alleged killer that you’re bringing into the building. You don’t even want to think about all the lives you could potentially put in danger.

You try to avert your attention. Now is not the time for that. Your gut feeling says so. You need to figure out a way to sneak this man inside your room without anyone finding out. Not the security guards, hall monitors or students: No one can know. You answer his question with clear doubt in your voice, not knowing if you’ll both even make it, “safety. To safety.”

All the thoughts about your poor life decisions get pushed to the side. You grunt and try to increase your speed, having difficulty dragging the man with you. You’re sweating. The amount of strength you need to put in to take only one step is severely draining. You remember that there is one path that doesn’t have much surveillance cameras hanging around. It’s the one you and a couple others use to sneak back into your dorms very late at night.

“Almost,” you try to encourage the stranger, who’s silent is quite eerie. You hope he’s holding on. The way he’s dragging his feet over the bricks tells you that he’s trying to keep conscious. You hurry up and get to the hidden exit at the back.

It’s locked on some days, so you let out a breath of relief when you manage to push it open. That spares you the trouble of having to go through the main entrance and risk getting caught. Plus, you don’t have to use and show your student card now that you’ve infiltrated the building. You hope that there aren’t many people around this side, praying that they’re all eating dinner somewhere.

The creaking of the door is ten times louder than it is usually. Or it could be the fear in your body restructuring your thoughts. Luckily, your dorm room is only one flight of stairs up. You can’t take the elevator because of the cameras in it. You look over at the man leaning against your shoulder, his head tilting to the side in exhaustion.

“Christ,” The stranger grunts. His head sways a little closer to yours unintentionally and your breath hitches. For a split second, he rests the side of his head against yours, too tired to move away. It makes your heart stammer for a moment. To have this coldhearted man lean on you, depend on you, and lay his life in your hands.

You’re filled with another rush of adrenaline. “Are you still holding up okay?” your quiet voice snaps the man out of his disoriented state. He only then realizes that he’s leaning his heavy weight on your small stature. He grumbles and tilts his head the other way again, away from yours. He clearly hates to be vulnerable. Especially around a random girl he does not have any business with.

Without getting an answer back, you carefully make haste to your dorm room. Your room is the first one in the entire row, located the surveillance camera's dead zone, which works out in your favor again.

You hold in your breath and try to fish the keys out of your pocket. Your fingers move the old and now wet receipts and garbage to the sides, pulling the desired object out from between them. You fumble with the keys, your fingers trembling as you try to grab the right one.

The intimidating stranger looks down at your hand through a blurry vision. You’re in a hurry to open the door and avoid being caught. Someone could turn the corner right now and you’d be busted. He huffs in annoyance, though voices no audible complaints. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he knows you’re helping him and that you have zero ill intent.

“Sorry,” you whimper before finally unlocking your door. You hurriedly get in an shut it behind you. It feels like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. Figuratively in this case, since you still have a whole man leaning on you. You help him over to your bed and carefully assist him down.

You’re ignoring your own boundaries for the nth time. The ones you are so adamant to follow in any other situation. You would never let someone sit on your bed with their outside clothes still on, especially not if they’re dirtied and wet. You’re tolerating it for now. All for this man that you have a sudden, unfathomable attraction to.

You don’t have time to think. You rush to your wardrobe and pull the drawer open. You search for a first aid kit. You had it laying somewhere—though never used. Your parents had given you it in case of an emergency. Which is right now.

You find a whole bunch of gauze rolls and a bottle of antiseptic liquid along with bandages, scissors, and pain killers. You have zero clue on how to treat a wound. You only saw such stuff in action movies and cartoons. You grab a needle and thread that you had laying around. A towel and a tissue box as well. Just anything that’s redeemed relevant for the situation.

You drop everything on your bed and fiddle around on what to use first. You’re tempted to grab your phone and look up some instructions on the internet, but you quickly get interrupted by a bloody hand reaching out for the disinfectant. You watch with worry as the man gets to work—not expecting any help from an oblivious girl like you. He’s gone through this before.

“Get some water.” The man huffs, undoing the coat around his waist slowly. You only have a few seconds to act. You look around frantically and find an old water bottle on your nightstand. You hand it to him, and he nearly yanks it from your hand, still showing that stubborn reluctance around you. There’s not a thank you in sight as he gets to work.

You can tell that the stranger has stitched up his own wounds many times before. It makes you think back to your initial thoughts. The thoughts about his occupation. His skills would be self-explanatory if he were to be an actual murderer. Having to deal with these types of wounds would be an everyday experience.

Yet, instead of being alarmed at the possibility, you manage to feel bad for his situation. You helplessly watch as he pours nearly the entire bottle on his wound, getting rid of any debris that’s got on it. He clearly does not care about the wet stains it’s created on your sheets. They’re messy anyway. “Give me that,” the injured man comments and nods at the needle and thread with his head.

You do as told, staying silent as you let the professional do what he knows is best. He cleans the needle with the antiseptic fluid and prepares the wound some more. You want to advise him to at least use some pain killers before he goes to work on it, however they’d take too long to take effect. There is no time to do all of that.

“Ah,” you hiss, like you’re the one experiencing the pain, as you notice how he’s starting the suture near the edge of his wound. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head to the side, not wanting to witness the gruesome scene. A few occasional grunts and groans sounding from the man leave you nauseous. You can’t imagine what he’s going through at the moment, cleaning and stitching up his own injury. He seemed to know what he was doing, so you don’t comment on it any further.

After a couple seconds pass, you hear another pained hiss. You can’t stand it. You’re just sitting at the edge of your bed, hoping for the best. Hoping that he could make use of all that you provided him with. “Can I help somehow?” You breathlessly ask, your voice a quiet whisper.

“Yeah, by shutting up,” The older man answers bluntly. He’s fixated on healing his wound the best he could, and your voice is disrupting that focus. He’s made some progress with the suture. It isn’t done under perfect circumstances, but he’s used to it. His body has been through enough since childhood to have built up a resilience to most things. The pain and discomfort are nothing he isn’t familiar with.

You bite your lip and apologize for asking him something, “sorry.” His deep voice makes you shiver. It only reminds you of the fact that you have a grown man in your room. A possible killer on the loose. You don’t push your luck and just remain silent. You don’t want to end up as another victim.

Though you have a feeling that he wouldn’t hurt you. Where that feeling came from, you have no idea. It could be your delusions, however you’re sure he wouldn’t harm a hair on your head. Maybe it’s due to that little moment of vulnerability he showed in the halls moments ago. Your body warms up at the memory of how his head laid against yours for a split second.

The man finishes off the suture with a firm surgeon knot. He cleans the remaining blood with the tissues he’s drowned in disinfectant. You look his way again when you hear him shifting in his place. Your baffled as you notice how he’s trying to stand up. You don’t know much about wounds, but you know for certain that someone cannot stand up after getting an injury stitched. It could reopen the wound.

Your hand moves on its own. You firmly grab the man’s wrist and tug him back down on your bed. The stranger lets out a surprised grunt and instinctively slaps your hand away. He wants to leave.

To him, it’s nothing serious. This is just another day in his life. He’s used to ignoring his body’s pleas for rest. Vulnerability does not look good on him. He hates it.

The older man parts his lips to defend himself, yet quickly decides on the opposite. He shuts his mouth once his eyes met your pretty ones. They’re glimmering with tears. He does not realize why you’re suddenly so upset. Nor does he actually care... He thinks.

He just wants to leave before you ask too many questions. It’s best to act like you two have never met. For his sake and yours.

You stare at each other for a few seconds. The silence creates an undeniable tension between you both. You don’t exchange words, though you think he knows what you mean with that look you’re giving him. You’re indirectly begging him to stay still and rest. You know he needs it. He secretly knows he needs it as well, though does not want to acknowledge that weakness.

The stranger sighs in frustration. He looks down at the wound he’s worked hard to patch up. His head hurts. His eyelids are heavy. His limbs are unresponsive. He has no other choice but to lay back. He promises himself that he’d leave after an hour or two. He wants to have nothing to do with you.

A college girl helping him. Who would’ve thought that day would come. Did he become that weak? He has always refused the help of others, so what would make this any different? He can leave and deal with the consequences of that poor decision on his own. However, his body doesn’t move an inch.

The man frowns as he realizes that his cold and distant attitude would get him nowhere this time. His body is actively resisting the urges to leave.

You cautiously ascertain his reactions. You notice the way he slumps back against your pillows with a curse word leaving his lips. You can’t help but feel relieved. You don’t know why, but you’re happy that he’s staying with you. Even if it’s just for a little longer. You want to make sure he’s going to be fine.

You nod silently and don’t say a word for a good while. You don’t want to annoy the man more than you already have. You get up, knees buckling as the adrenaline wears you down. You’re glad you haven’t been caught and that the man you saved didn’t die. You’re tired from everything that went down in the last hour or so.

Though, you cannot rest.

You clean up the mess around your bed. The used, bloody tissues. The rain that’s dripped down your clothes and onto the floor, making small puddles on the surface. The piece of leather you had used as a temporary solution for the stranger’s bleeding. After you’ve gotten rid of all that, you finally take off your coat and shoes. You want to take a bath as soon as possible. And dry your hair.

You don’t take your eyes off the man on your bed. He’s starting to stir again, which could mean one of two things. He’s either trying to escape or trying to change his position. To your surprise, you catch him pull his shirt over his head. The older man’s ripped physique comes into view. Faint veins run down his beefy arms, his abs are perfectly defined, and his waist compliments his bulky stature.

You’re staring. You only realize it when your eyes catch the way he’s attempting to wrap some gauze around his lower abdomen. You can tell that he’s struggling, but he does not ask for help. Nor does he even look your way—acting like it’s just him in the room. It’s easy to conclude that he’s never depended on anyone in his life. It saddens you.

You walk over to your bed and sit down at the edge. You wordlessly reach out to grab the roll of gauze from his hand. Your fingers brush against his palm while you do so, and you can feel the rough calluses on his skin. You don’t comment on it but make a mental note of your discovery.

You carefully wrap the gauze around his waist once. You’re as cautious as you could be, not wanting to inflict any more discomfort on the stranger. He doesn’t resist. He’s too tired to do so. Alhough, that doesn’t stop him from showing his complaints about the situation through his distant body language. His eyes are staring at the nearby wall, his expression as stoic as ever.

You go around with the roll of gauze once more. You lean a bit closer to his torso to properly do your job. You can’t help but feel a tiny bit embarrassed by your proximity. Neither of you says anything about it. He doesn’t move away, and you take that as a sign to continue tending to him.

The older man can’t help but feel that urging desire to push you away and leave. He doesn’t want to be involved in any of this. You weren’t supposed to find him. You weren’t supposed to help him. You weren’t supposed to bring him back here. He hates the idea of letting someone – you - get close to him. He hates letting others in his personal space.

 “What’s your name, sir?” Your soothing voice breaks the silence. You’re still visibly nervous, but also a lot less panicky. He finally looks down at you, seeing you put the gauze in place before grabbing a roll of bandages. He hates your touch.

The stranger clenches his jaw. He had to have scared you away in that back alley. He couldn’t and that’s what got him in such a predicament. One that triggers his many internal issues and struggles. He hates having to talk about himself to others. That’s how most bonds form.

“None of your damn business, girl,” The older man growls. His tone is harsh and cold, but you don’t back away nor even flinch. That only serves to irk him more. You’re meant to cower in fear, leave him alone and never turn back, but you do the complete opposite. You don’t know him and yet still choose to take care of him.

You nod, not pushing the matter any further. The injured stranger narrows his eyes for a second. Nothing seems to work on you. His intention is to scare you off, though the more he tries, the more you seem to get closer. It’s got the total opposite effect and he despises it.

He hates it all. Your closeness, your need to help him, your eyes that stare up at him with such worry, your hands bandaging him up. He promised himself, the day his wife died a couple years ago, that he’ll never involve himself with people if it isn’t for business related matters.

He’s managed to live all by himself for all those years and reached a level of independence that others could only dream of. Now it’s shattered. It feels like he’s back to square one because of your choice today. The choice to help a total random stranger.

The older man closes his eyes for a second and sighs deeply. It’s foolish of him to think of such unimportant matters. He’ll just use this to his advantage. He’ll use you, your kindness and everything you have to offer for his own sake. He’ll exploit you like he’s done to many other women before. That’s the way he’s used to treating others.

He’ll indulge your need to help him and try to act nice to satisfy those innocent wishes of yours. Just for his sake and his sake only, he promises himself.

The older man eventually speaks up again after you managed to bandage him up properly, “…Toji.”

You raise your eyebrows. You guess that that’s his name. Your lips curl up into a faint smile, feeling thankful that Toji decided to reveal that little detail about him. You grab his bloodied shirt and put it with the rest of your clothes that you need to wash. Your eyes wander over his exposed upper body for a split second, looking for any other possible injuries, only to find none. You nod in satisfaction as you grab a washcloth and wet it with some water, “that’s a nice name.”

That’s a first. Toji didn’t see the significance of complimenting someone’s name. Everyone has one, it’s not special, so why would you tell him it’s nice? Maybe he just doesn’t understand sentimental stuff like that. He’s not made out for such things. “Hm,” he lets out a small hum in acknowledgement and that’s all you get.

You walk towards him again and brush his bangs to the side. Toji holds himself back from moving away from your touch, but then remembers the decision he made mentally just moments ago. He’ll use that kindness of yours to his advantage until he’s all healed up. Then he’ll leave for good.

You place the cold cloth on his forehead. You know he’ll have a fever throughout the night because of the wound he’s suffered. You’re simply preparing him for that. You grab the painkillers that are scattered around the bed and place them on your nightstand, along with the water bottle. If he needs it, he’ll grab it, you think.

“Ah, sorry,” You snap out of it and realise that you haven’t introduced yourself properly. You might as well, considering you’ll be having Toji as your roommate for a couple days. Or at least you hope he stays that long until he’s all healed up. You continue, “my name is..”

“I already know.” Toji cuts you off before you’re able to reveal your name. You’re dumbfounded for a second. What does he mean by ‘he knows’? You tilt your head in confusion. You try to figure out how he could’ve possibly learnt your name but are unable to make any assumptions.

Toji easily notices your bewilderment. He admits that that could’ve come over as extremely creepy. He looks at the nearby wall and points at the decorations with his chin. You follow his gaze and instantly recognize what he’s staring at. It’s a picture with your friends that you have framed. They gifted it to you some time back and had engraved your name in the frame.

Toji must have cautiously examined his new surroundings whilst you were busy finalizing the treatment for his injury. You understand the need for that. Anyone would be wary in a new environment. “Hehe. Right,” he’s quite observant, you think to yourself.

You look outside of your window and close the tiny gap between your curtains. Even if you’re on the second floor, you don’t want to risk anyone finding out about what you did tonight. It still hasn’t properly processed in your brain; the fact that you have smuggled an alleged killer into your dorm. Maybe it will hit once you sleep and wake up tomorrow.

You look down at Toji with great concern. Even if the wound has been taken care of, you’re unsure if it’s even enough. A doctor would’ve been the safest option. But seeing how great Toji is handling the pain, you guess that it’ll be just fine. You glance at your hands. They have some dried blood on them. You also reek of the rain since you’re still uncomfortably soaked from before.

You decide to go take a shower. Before that, you make sure Toji has everything he needs. You give him a towel to dry himself off and make sure he can reach the first aid kit if needed. You stare at the pile of bloodied and wet clothes in the corner of your room. Both his and yours. You’ll take them to the laundry mat tomorrow.

You avert your attention back to Toji. He’s lying on his back, head turned away to the wall so he wouldn’t have to see you or look you in the eyes. It’s like he’s in his own world. You speak up again, this time a little louder, “are you gonna be alright now?”

Silence again. Toji doesn’t face you and keeps his eyes closed for some peace of mind. He sounds indifferent and distant as he answers you, “who knows.”

The ambiguous answer certainly doesn’t help ease your anxiety. You don’t want the older man to regress back to a state of near unconsciousness again. Despite your wishes, you can’t do much about it. Calling an ambulance or asking for help from others is a big no-no. For you as well, since you’ll be dragged into a big mess if anyone were to find out you gave shelter to a murderer.

“Uhm, all right. I’m gonna take a quick shower.” You announce quietly, not expecting a response. You would’ve preferred it if Toji did respond so you could leave your room for a couple minutes in peace. Without worrying about his condition. You know that you’re annoying him with the constant questions and comments, but you can’t help it. You’re worried. Even if he hates the attention and would love to have as less interaction with you as possible.

“D-Don’t move, ‘kay? I’ll be back.” You add quickly. You take a few steps towards the exit and place your hand on the door handle. Your limbs won’t take another step forward. You’re worried sick that Toji’s going to grab his chance and leave the moment you’re gone. You don’t want him to go. On one hand, it’s selfish of you, but on the other hand, it’s out of consideration for his situation.

You turn your head and glance at his still figure on your bed. His bulky stature nearly took up the entirety of it. You can’t help but ramble about your worries to him, hoping it’d convince him to stay, “If they find you, I’ll get in trouble and god knows what will happen to yo—”

“Just go, woman.” Toji’s deep voice rings through your ears. It’s the second time he’s cut you off. You’re pissing him off, clearly. You immediately zip it and do as told. You decide to put your trust in him and believe that he won’t take the opportunity to leave behind your back.

Without another word, you sneak out of your dorm room, making sure to close your door behind you. You act normal in case anyone walks by and finds your behaviour suspicious. You make a beeline towards the communal showers with your toiletry bag and pyjamas in hand.

Meanwhile, Toji is finally experiencing some real peace. He empties his mind, though cannot seem to get rid of your voice. He still can’t comprehend why somebody would be this worried for him. A college student who’d be at risk of being expelled if found out. You’re taking such great risks for a man like him? He doesn’t understand.

Toji rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands and groans in aggravation, “unbelievable.” Why he’s thinking it through is also something he cannot grasp. The man decides to enjoy the quiet atmosphere for now. He’s still somewhat disheveled from the entire ordeal and if he were to keep his brain running, he’d lose his mind completely. He drapes an arm over his eyes and lies there silently on the soft mattress.

A couple minutes pass. You feel like you’ve taken the quickest shower ever. You avoid as many students as possible while you make your way back to your dorm. You close your eyes and take a deep breath in. You open the door and peek through the crack. It’s pitch dark in the room. The sun had fully set a while back and your curtains cover any light from outside.

You lock your door and step forward carefully. You squint and wait for your vision to accommodate to the darkness. You approach your bed and finally let out that breath you’ve been holding in. He’s still there. Toji’s still where you left him. His chest is slowly moving up and down, his breathing steady as he rests.

You quietly turn on the nightlamp in your room. It casts a faint shadow over Toji’s face. He seems to be asleep. You can’t quite tell for sure since his bicep is nearly covering the entirety of his face, but you judge based on his breathing patterns. You sit on the edge of your bed and feel tired yourself after that eventful evening. You’re sleepy. The adrenaline has worn off and exhausted you to no end.

You glance down at the bandage around his torso. You’d have to change that for him tomorrow. For now, you’re content with the outcome of it all. You shift in your seat, which causes your hand to brush against Toji’s on the bed. You feel the warmth creep up to your head. His veiny hands still had stains of blood on the skin.

Now that Toji’s asleep, he won’t refuse your help. You grab a spare washcloth from your wardrobe and wet it with some water. You carefully lift Toji’s left hand. His palm touches yours and you find yourself enjoying the physical contact. His hand is heavy—bigger and rougher than yours. There are faint scars on his fingers which reminds you of his unknown identity.

All you’ve discovered until now is his name. His background is a mystery, and you have the feeling that it’s going to stay a mystery. You’ve realized by now that Toji does not open up to just anyone. You diligently clean the crimson stains from his left hand and move to do the same for the right one. You’re as careful as you can be, not wanting to wake the injured man from his well-deserved rest.

Once done, you put the washcloth away. You yawn and look at the clock. It’s nearly midnight already. You can’t sleep on your bed since it’s occupied, and it doesn’t fit two people. You look down at the soft carpet below your feet. That’ll have to do.

You grab an available pillow and a spare blanket, setting up your own little sleeping bag on the carpet right next to the bed. You lay down and stare at the ceiling. The ticking of your clock and the occasional sound of traffic outside of the building are the only loud sounds that distract your mind from any turbulent thoughts.

All you want is to sleep. What’ll happen tomorrow or the day after that is a problem for later. You’re safe for now. For today, you can relax. Your door is locked and the man you saved hadn’t left just yet. You feel a strange form of comfort having him with you. Even if he may be a bad person, his presence somehow soothes your tired body and mind. You feel like you’re safe with him. No harm shall come your way tonight.

And with that decisive thought, you close your eyes and give in to the slumber. You turn to lay on your side, facing the frame of your bed. Facing Toji.

You smile and utter your final words for the day, “good night, Toji. Sleep well.”

You drift into the land of dreams and discard your eventful reality. Little did you know that the man on your bed had been wide awake the entire time and is now left unable to sleep. . .

to be continued !

[kissitbttr]

insecure toji :(

—

toji is great at hiding his insecurities. best at it, even.

to be a man you are not allowed to showcase any emotion nor shed a tear in front of anyone. it would bring such great dishonor to family, especially to zenin.

that’s how he was raised by his father. he’s got the marks and bruises to prove it, hasn’t he?

but one thing that toji is very much insecure about is he knows how financially unstable he is.

by any means, he’s not poor. yet, he’s not enough either. and it’s never become a problem for him until he has you.

a beautiful woman whom he had met exactly a year ago at a dingy bar when he had just gotten off from his late shift,

he remembers vividly how you looked that night. sophisticated and gorgeous. a dress that fits your body too well and a voice that could make any man weak at their knees.

it was obvious you had eyes on you as a conversation was shared between you and a few friends, yet you paid no mind at first.

but you took that chance anyway and looked to your right, a small chuckle heaved from you as the man quickly averted his gaze down to his lap with a small blush upon his cheeks. embarrassed that he got caught.

“you came alone?” you asked, resting your chin upon your open palm with a small head tilt,

“y-yeah” he laughs, nodding at you. “just got off from a shift, figured a drink would be nice”

you hum, smiling at the handsome man few feet from you. “graveyard shift?” a little tease won’t hurt,

“something like that” he laughs again and you might be biased because he has the most cutest one you’ve ever heard, “all that and still not enough to treat myself somewhere nice”

a joke but you see how much pain he hides when he says that,

“eh—as long as you’re still alive, there are lots of things that needs to be grateful for” you shrug as you answer. “are you grateful, sir?””

never in his life has he ever heard someone asked him that question,

“very much so, ma’am” he nods yet again, lips stretching into a smile and you catch a glimpse of his thin scar adorning his lips. “or at least i try to be”

you listen well to what he has to say. “try” you repeat the word he just said. “exactly—it’s better to say that rather than completely give up everything—got someone back home?”

he chuckles, lacing his fingers together. “if you meant a three year old son, yes”

“he means a lot to you then?”

“i’d give him the world” he corrects your statement in seconds, thoughts of little megumi clouding his mind. “the only thing that keeps me going”

“well—“ you begin again before saying goodbyes to your friends and colleagues. “that makes him your purpose, then”

he hums, confirming everything what you had just said as the two of your continues to stare into each other’s eyes.

“why don’t you come over here? talk to me more about you” you offer,

“would hate to ruin your evening, ma’am—my shit is far too complex and boring” he chuckles,

you shake your head in disagreement, smiling at him. “every human’s life is complex—it just depends on those people around us who’s willing to sit and listen—and i chose to listen. so come here” you push a stool in front of you with your feet for him to sit on,

little did you know, toji immediately fell in love with you that night,

“i’m broke, angel” he admits out of the blue, earning a glance from you. “i don’t know why you wanted to do anything with me when i could barely give you something”

your brows are furrowed, “toji wha-“

“i saw those two men tonight who came up to you. very well dressed men” he swallows a lump, “they could probably fix your life. seeing the watch on their wrists? i mean” he chuckles with no humor laced in it and it concerns you even mode,

“who wouldn’t?” his eyes then move briefly to yours, whose eyes scanning through his features like there’s something deeply wrong about him. “you’re a beautiful woman with a the kindest soul i’ve ever seen and i’m just the lucky bastard who gets to be with you… I still question myself sometimes ‘why on earth does she wants to be with me?’ “

“they could provide you better” he ends the sentence with a small voice

“baby” you speak with tenderness, fingers quickly moving under his chin and get him to look at you when he refuses. “toji baby, look at me”

and it nearly damn breaks your heart when you see toji struggles to push back his tears,

“where is all of this coming from?”

he shrugs merely as a response, shyly looking down,

“I’m supposed to be the man of the house, treating you nice, getting you jewels and shit but i barely can cover up bills to pay” he admits,

and if silence was the only thing you could hear that night, then a chip of your heart could probably still be heard.

“i don’t fucking care” four words leave your mouth sharply. “what you-we” you correct, “have to go through—i will go through it with you—and i will not leave you behind”

toji releases a breath as your thumb pads against his skin, eyes staring contently into yours with a heart that beats softly for you,

“if i had to sit my ass all night, going through jobs applications, and waking up in the morning to drive you for hundreds of interviews then i will” you firmly state, both hands now cupping his face as you wipe away his small tears.

“i will not just sit and watch you fall” hearing your voice almost breaks is enough to make his heart clench too. “who bought megumi his favorite books yesterday?”

toji gulps. “i did”

“who bought the groceries this month because we wanted to have pasta for dinner?”

“i did” he answers again, hand holding your wrist,

“who made reservations at that crazy expensive restaurant on the South because his demanding ass wanted to treat me something?”

hearing that makes him chuckle, nodding. “me”

“yeah” you confirm. “you did, baby.” a small smile appears on your face. “so as long as you’re able to put food on the table, you’re okay. as long as you’re able to give megumi what he needs, you are not broke. as long as you have a roof over your head, treating me good, we are okay. you hear me?”

he nods once again, feeling his heart fails to finds a steady rhythm by how gentle yet firm you are with your words.

“but you mentioned about the dress—“

“ay, papi—enough” a groan escapes you. “i don’t give a damn about a 2,000 dollar dress knowing you’d probably rip it off of me anyway”

toji releases a loud laugh, his hands moving down to your waist. his forehead knocking softly against yours, holding onto you tightly as if he’s afraid that you will disappear.

it is at this moment that toji realizes at this point that no one would probably put up with him nor understand him like you,

because it is what it is. you love him for him not for the money he owns. you look at the whole landscape and saw a real man. that’s what made you fall in love

“none of that bullshit anymore, okay? please?” you beg with wavering voice, hurt that your boyfriend is feeling this way about everything,

“okay—i’m sorry, angel i just—“

“i get it baby, i get it” you nod, kissing his lips. “but you don’t have to be scared with me, yeah? i got you like you got me. and when shit gets too hard, i’ll still be here for you. for megumi” you promise,

“if that was your way of trying to get rid of me then you need to try harder—i’ve had worse and there’s no way in hell i’m leaving” a playful statement that brings another laugh between you two,

“i’ll put the ring on it one day, princess—i promise” and he will, he knows he will,

you know that too,

“i know baby—i know”

maybe lucky isn’t the only thing he’s feeling when he’s got you

—

not proofread so its probably a mess

[whumped-by-glitter]

I want to talk about conditioning for a minute, from someone who has undergone it.

It has been 15 yrs as of March 30th since I left for basic training (probably why it's been on my mind A LOT lately, so sorry guys). In those 15 years, I've undone most of the programming, but you know what, there are some things that just will not go away.

For example, reveille, if you want to see me go from fast asleep to moving like something is on fire and have me dressed and out the door before the song ends, wake me up with that, even hearing it during the day gives me a minor adrenaline rush. I have not heard that tune in like 2 years, and I'm pretty sure I will still react the same way. I have been completely Pavlove's dog to it, and it only took 8.5 weeks.

Next is my hands in my pocket - it feels rebellious and taboo when I do it, even now I still feel a slight jolt of excitement when I do it. I actually put my hands in my pocket a lot now because it feels weird, and I like that 🤣

Even how I walk has changed, I still have no bounce in my step, I still roll my feet to walk quieter, I still find myself falling in step with people I'm walking next to. I have done my best to undo this one, but it still shows up every now and then. I will also still walk to a beat if music playing is anything similar to a Jodie.

It has been 15 years with active work done to undo this, and it still shows up! I was in for a total of just 5.5 years.

It also took me years (3-4) to stop standing at parade rest and over using sir/ma'am. That only got better from being constantly called out on it.

My point? A conditioned whumpee will likely have behaviors just show up even years later. there will also likely be completely normal things they will likely have to actively think about doing or not doing, and it may always feel weird or foreign to them (like me putting my hands in my pocket). This won't be something that goes away in weeks or months. They are going to have these internal reactions to certain stimuli, likely the rest of their life. Also, these responses can be exhausting for a caretaker! That's a lot of emotional burden on them, depending on what the whumpee was conditioned to.

Hopefully, this helps someone somewhere somehow with some inspiration! 😊 feel free to pick my brain further if you want.

Thank you for letting me talk a bit about my experiences, it's refreshing. I promise after March I'll be less military again. 🤣

[ohnoitstbskyen]

I know it would probably bring a lot of hate comments but I am begging you to roast the hazbin character designs because I'd love to have someone properly articulate why they don't work so I could send it to people who won't believe me when I tell them. 🫠 Understandable if you don't want to get into it though.

I don't think there's that much there to roast, honestly?

Those designs are clearly an extremely specific stylistic choice, and because that style is consistent throughout the show, it ultimately feels coherent with itself.

There are trade-offs being made. Because Hazbin's design style is SO stylized and so heavy on decoration and detailing, because it puts a lot of emphasis on costuming, it isn't as good at communicating specific character storytelling as a more grounded style could be (it's kind of the same tradeoff that stuff like Genshin Impact makes).

Like, why does Sir Pentious' hat have an eye and a mouth on it that makes its own expressions? Apparently not for very much reason at all, except that Pentious has a bit of an eyes-motif going on in his design and it was one more place to put an extra eye. And that's a valid criticism of his design, but also the entire show is designed like that, so frankly it would be weirder and more out of place if his design alone didn't have that kind of overelaborate decoration going on.

It does create a situation where I have a hard time "reading" the character designs sometimes. For example, Vox, Alastor and Pentious all wear a similar style of suit with upwards-turned shoulders, butterflies and pinstripes. Now, am I meant to read that as Vox imitating Alastor due to his crippling need to replace and outdo him, and Pentious imitating the style of powerful Overlords because he thinks that possessing their level of power will finally give him relief from his paranoia and self-loathing?

Or is it just a design fixation of the creator who keeps putting their characters in suits because that's just what they like? I can't really be sure, because sometimes design elements are used to intentionally tell stories about how characters relate to themselves, their world and one another, but plenty of other times designs look the way they do Because Of Vibes.

But again, that lack of clarity is clearly an intentional trade-off - and the benefit of that trade-off is a design style that is extremely varied, wild, expressive and memorable. Hazbin Hotel seems like a very easy show to draw fanart of, and a very fun show to draw fanart of. Those designs (especially the hyper-expressive faces) are begging to be the subjects of traumatic headcanons, unbearably cotton-candy soft fluff fantasies and weird, taboo, homoerotic power dynamics. Slaps roof of character design, this bad boy can express so much vicarious emotional intensity.

It's very exuberant, very excited about itself and very self-indulgent, it's a style that prioritizes visual impact and visual interest over readability (something which the animators of the show navigate with real skill, props to them) and individual aesthetics over worldbuilding.

And I don't blame anyone for being turned off by that (I certainly was the first time I started seeing those designs going around), but I would struggle to call the show's designs "bad" when they are clearly achieving exactly what they want to achieve.

I have some criticisms, especially re: how the show treats skinny bodies as an unquestioned, desirable default, and employs fatness as a means of alienating and abjecting the audience. That sucks very badly, and is a serious disappointment, and one of the few places where the show feels like it is being cowardly in its design philosophy. But I don't have it in me to do some kind of Hazbin Hotel Sucks And Here's Why takedown, its problems are not unique or extreme enough to warrant it, at least not as I currently understand them.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Honey, I’m Home-!

Sirius Black x Mom! Reader

Ever since Sirius was sent to Azkaban, you were the one in charge of raising Harry. Doing your best, and lucky to have Remus to help. Because of that, a certain Rat wasn’t able to avoid any of your gazes. When Harry’s third year came to a end, you were given quite a surprise at the train station

Warnings 18+, P in V, Female Reader, high emotions, hurt comfort, fluffy and heated sex, getting back together, implied breeding kink, taking care of your man with baths food and you, sir this bed is about to be destroyed with how hard he’s going to rail you. Also, implied Wolfstar/ Remus x You/Poly situation deal up in here hehehehe

“Harry-!” You called, with a smile. Always there to pick him up from the station, every single time. As a good parent would. Ever since you found out he had such a risk to end up at the Dursleys, like hell you would let that happen. Made you pamper him a bit, given your good friends lost their lives for him. But like hell he didn’t deserve it.

“Shhh shh-!” Harry was soon hushing his friends, leaving you confused. Hermione and Ron quick to hush up, while Remus would set the last of the bags off the train. Wanting to help out, since there were so many Weasleys to worry about. The way he smiled, you were even more curious. You couldn’t recall the last time he looked so relieved. Was there a change in laws that permitted him to work at Hogwarts?

“Children, settle down. Settle down. Go on and show her the surprise.” He teases them, as he would help Molly with the rest of the Weasleys. He threw you a wink, which had you very confused. Not what did that Marauder have in mind this time?

“Mum…..Can we get a dog?” Harry asked you, as the trio stood next to each other. With cuts and bruises all over, but smiling. Even Ron seemed chipper, despite the fact he was in crutch. The hell did those three get into this time?

“A dog-? Harry….You know why we can’t get a dog.” You sighed, not wanting to have this discussion again. With out Sirius, you just couldn’t. Any dog was to painful of a reminder. Oh how you miss your padfoot. What you would give to see him again.

“Mum, please? He’s got no where else to go. Just look at him-“ Harry pleaded, as the trio stepped aside. The dog now exposed to you. Was so painfully skinny, yet also so furry at the same time. Matted fur, and just looking like a grim. He looked so much like Sirius, but so dead as well. Your heart just couldn’t say no this time.

The defeated sigh had them cheer, as Remus returned. Still giving you this coy smile, that had you furrow your brows. You felt like you were missing something, but you didn’t know what. You just knew that it was time to take everyone home.

With Harry hugging his friends goodbye, while this new dog stuck close to your legs, Remus would catch up quickly with Molly. Explaining something. You swore it was about Scabbers, but the new playmate was keeping your attention. Suddenly jumping on you, and licking your face.

“ACK-! HEEL HEEL-!” You called, as the dog was just to strong. How was something so fragile so durable? Reminded you of Sirius. How even in his dog form he was able to tackle people down. Was just making your heart hurt more, which in a morbid sense made you unable to refuse the dog either.

“Mum, Uncle Remus said you should head home with our new dog. He needs me to stay here and catch Mrs. Weasley up on stuff.” The way he fidgeted with his glasses told you it was a mixture of a lie and some truths. What the hell were these people planning? Was this some scheme to help you move on? Accept Sirius was never coming back? That hurt, but also a point was made. Who can escape Azkaban?

“Alright. But be home before dark.” You warned, as you kissed his forehead. Right on his scar, which made him smile. He made sure to give you a hug, before quickly returning to the red heads. Poor Molly looked ready to faint. Make that she did, and the twins had to catch her. Yeah, like hell you wanted to be involved with that.

“Alright, let’s-“ But the dog was running. Right through the wall, with no hesitation. You were flabbergasted, but had no time to think. Harry’s new dog was running off. No way you wanted his poor heart broken over that. So, you ran after it. Trying to catch up, but it seemed high on life.

“GET BACK HERE-!” You hollered, as the dog was running like it was the last thing it could ever do. You were so focused on trying to catch up to it, you barely noticed where you were running towards. By the time you finally caught up, you were wheezing. Hands on your knees, as the door the dog stopped at opened.

“About time Master and Mistress Black returned.” Kreacher sneered, as the dog hurried inside. Did he say what you think he said? No way. That can’t be Sirius. No way in hell. Looks like him, but he’s in Azkaban. You don’t just escape Azkaban. Sure, the daily prophet said he did. But it was more than likely gossip gone wild. You swore every week they said someone did, only for them to be returned the next day.

“Kreacher, phew, give me a minute here.” You coughed, as you stumbled inside. Left for the building to vanish, in the early morning fog. As if it was never there. Leaving you to be alone, with the elf and dog, as you hung up your coat.

You did your best with making the home more live able. The spare rooms built for whenever Harry wanted friends over for the summers. Along with just a safe haven for friends in need of a stay. You turned what was once a cage, into a proper home. Seemed the dog loved it, as it was quick to run up the stairs. Bolting past the curtained painting, and straight to your bedroom.

“How does it….No. no this can’t be. No way…” It was starting to become harder to deny, as you walked up the stairs. By the time you reached the door, you heard it. That familiar eerie bone cracking, when a animagus was changing forms. No way. It couldn’t be. It can’t-

“Home sweet home-“ That gruff voice sung to you, as you opened the door. There he was. Your husband. Your world. Your everything. Standing there, bending his back, as he sported a tattered Azkaban uniform. Bloody, dirty, hardly clothing at all. Hair a mangled mess, and in desempate need of a bath and shave. He was so sickly thin, the very thin fabric was just a sheet on him. Hardly could process it, when those dark eyes locked on yours. Hair so long now, and body tattered. No matter the design, it was still him. Your Sirius.

“Hardly changed a day…” He dreamily said, with that exhausted smile. He was so drained, but you could still see the pure joy in his eyes. He was home. He was with you, and could be there for Harry now. His best friend Remus was in his life again. He’s not in that damn prison, and he’s in your sight once more.

You didn’t care about the grime, as you practically fell into his arms. Sobbing in joy, as he held you close. Despite his thinner structure, he was able to hold you tightly. As tightly as he could, and sway with you. No need for words. Just gentle tears.

That was why Remus was so coy, and why Harry had you two run off. You two needed time to reconnect. Even so young, Harry could grasp how important this was. Guess you were rasing him right. Seemed also that Kreacher might have missed Sirius as well, because you could hear a bath being run. No one asked for it, but he did it. His own free choice. He missed him, in his own way.

“Darling, I love you so much. I really do, but I am so fucking gross right now. You know I’m being honest when even I’m unable to handle my own stink. I’ve had sex with Moony under a full moon. I’m GROSS gross right now. I will kill for a bath-“ He went on, making you just laugh with your tears. Despite the years in such a horrific prison, he was still himself. Guess he was always a little insane.

You didn’t let him go an inch, as you trailed after him to the bathroom. More than happy to help him wash. Just enjoying the needed intimate moment. Just a wife, washing her husband. By god was he filthy. By the time Harry and Remus returned, he was finally drying off. You had no idea if the bathtub will ever recover. Least he was now in his favorite black robe.

“I’ve got dinner handled, don’t worry-!” Remus called, as Sirius would come down the stairs with you. Unable to let go of his arm, and he hardly complained. He missed your touch all the same, as you two would enter the dinning room. Where Harry sat.

“Guess we better start from the beginning.” Harry murmured. You had already gotten used to your son’s insane adventures, but this one took the cake. He got his god father out of Azkaban, somehow-? Yeah, you were sitting down for this. Mindlessly playing with the exposed chest hair you could grab, as the trio of misfits began to explain.

Even while eating, more like Sirius devouring anything in sight, there was so much to discuss. Was mostly Remus, and Harry, speaking. Given Sirius was more so busy hiding during that time frame. Oh how your heart had broken, and repaired, over and over from it all. Your poor husband. But, he’s back now. He’s back, and he’s never leaving you again.

“I know you are my god father and all, but….Do I call you dad now-?” Harry asked. He’s thirteen, still a child after all. It’s going to be a lot to process, even by Wizard standards. With his meal finished, Sirius did have to think a moment. Dispite the fact Harry knew Sirius from stories, because of you and Remus, he was still a stranger after all.

“Uncle Padfoot will work just fine.” He smiled, as he ruffled Harry’s hair. That made the young teen give an awkward grin, as there was something to work with now. Uncle Moony and Uncle Padfoot. It’s a start, and you couldn’t be happier. Just staring with such love to him, with your head on his shoulder. Taking in that scent, as Remus was unable to stop his smile to.

“Harry, dear, why don’t we go out for a walk. Hm?” Remus asked him, making the boy raise a brow. Why would he want to….Oh. Right. Remus would give a gentle head nudge towards the door, and Harry was quick to get the message. Grabbing his jacket, wand, and chasing after his uncle. Not wanting to say another word, as he really rather not think about his mother’s sex life. Even if it’s with his god father.

The second the door closed, you were yanked from your chair. You gave a squeak, as you were tossed over his shoulder. Just like the old days at school. Whenever he wanted your attention, he simply tossed you over his shoulder. Forcing you to pay attention to him, as he would steal you to a private room for a discussion.

“I’m not letting you out of that bed until the head board breaks-“ He warned, as that had your heart racing. Twelve years is a long time, and there was most certainly some catching up to do. You couldn’t deny that, as you watch the stairs trail behind him. Escorting you to your once shared bedroom. Now together again.

You were plopped right on the bed, and he was on you like the hungry dog he was. Stealing you into his lips, and you couldn’t stop your moaning. It had been so long. You needed him as badly as he needed you. How you were enjoying the new long hair, and tangling your fingers into it. Needing as much skin as you could get from him.

He was more than happy to give it to you. The robe thrown aside, as he was pulling at your clothes. Not giving damn if they tore. Nothing else mattered in this moment. He wanted to fuck his wife, and by god was he going to. Twelve years, in Azkaban. He’s going to get all twelve years of pent up desire out in one night. Will your body recover? Do you even care?

“Sirius-“ You sighed, as he finally got your top off. His face buried into your chest, as he snapped your bra strap off. Tossing it aside, as he drank you up. Just feeling your skin on his, and savoring the long missed flesh against his bearded face. Feeling that freshly softened hair on your chest felt so good. Every single fiber of your existence was on fire. Felt like you might implode.

“Not a day passed by, that I wasn’t thinking of you. You, Remus, Harry, you three were what kept me sane. I knew you three were safe with each other. Waiting for me. I came back. I came back, like I promised.” He sighed, as you felt the tears on your chest. Gentle fingers played with his hair, as to try and calm him down. Comforting him.

“I always knew you would.” You felt so silly thinking Remus would ever try and help you move on. Hypocrite he would have been. Human emotions be human emotions, and they were being carnal right now. Needing to burn and burn and burn.

“Have me again, like you’ve had me before.” You asked him, as you cupped his face. Having that thick beard nuzzle into your palm, as those dark eyes stared up to yours. So much pain in his face, but comfort in his eyes. It’s a long journey to recover, but his soul was still there. His body is damaged, but a body can repair. A mind is harder, and that was the battle. A battle he won.

With a kiss to your palm, he would soon attack your lips. Growling into you, as he pulled away the rest of your clothes. Needing to devour your body. Soon marking away at your neck, your chest, your arms. If there was anything his lips could grasp, and making sure you were marked. As if to remind the world you belonged to him, and he wasn’t going anywhere. Not anymore.

“Sirius, how can you still be such a tease?” You whined, as he was grazing his teeth over your thigh. Leaving a bite on your flesh. Letting himself enjoy the flavor of the tingling flesh under his tongue.

“What? I’m an old dog. Old dogs have bad habits.” He teased, before he finally allowed you to get some attention. He really didn’t change, and you were shocked. Never thought being abused could be useful. Only a Black would have such a morbid survival skill.

Before any more depressing thoughts could fill your head, you were able to enjoy the familiar sight. Your husband between your legs, with his cock rubbing against you. The tip of his cock coming into view, whenever he rolled his hips up and down. Rubbing right on your clit, and making you whimper. Sure you’ve played with yourself, but nothing beats his touch.

You both were gripping tightly. Him on your thighs, while you grabbed his shoulders. Needing to feel him in your hands. You both needed it so badly, but both held a near fear. As if afraid that it was all a dream. Luckily, he had the nerve to test that fear. Test it, as he finally pushed in.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this-“ He moaned, as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. The way he growled, and his body just shivered. Aching, and moaning. Might spill just then, if he didn’t stop. Just savoring the feeling of being back inside of you, and how your eyes watered from pure comfort. To have your husband back.

He would lean down, and kiss away your tears, before he allowed himself to move. Just moaning for you, as his nails dug into your flesh. Marking you more, as you moaned into each others mouths. Needing to drink in every last thing you both could offer. So much to catch up on, and to make up for.

With the tender moment passing, you were soon reminded of the wild man you married. The feeling of your legs being pushed towards your shoulders, as he tried to get into you deeper. With his hands now on your ankles, as he was snapping his hips into yours. Needing to make sure you felt ever inch of him.

You loved it, and missed it, all. The feeling of your arms around his neck, and tangling your fingers into his hair. How he growled into you, and the snarls. Oh how you loved how animalistic he was for you. How he would bark and howl at the beg and call to you. Your big bad wolf.

It was all you missed. Had you in a mixture of tears, and pure desire. How he wanted to fight your tears, and kissed you. As heated as he could, to make up for the years parted. To taste you, and savor you all over again. Just the sounds of your moans, the creaking bed, and the flesh on flesh.

You didn’t know how long it lasted, but you felt him pull your lip. Sinking his teeth into it. A typical sign that he was close. A need to ground himself, to last a little longer. Oh how you missed his little habits. That thrill of pain again sent you over, as you came with him. To be as connected as possible.

You expected to get a moment to savor the after glow, but he kept true to his word. You were soon tossed onto your stomach, with the ass in the air. Of course he wanted doggy. It’s cheesey, but a favorite. Suppose one more round could be mustered.

One more became two, and three, and soon you had to chug a Pepper Up potion to keep up. You lost track of the rounds, before you were laid on your back. Soaked in sweat, and sticky from it all. Sheets hardly on the bed, and you were certain there were cracks in the wood. Hardly could breathe, but it seemed he was satisfied.

“Pretty sure you fucked a dozen kids into me.” You wheezed, as he chuckled. Enjoying a much needed cigarette, but still making sure you were comforted. Having your head in his lap, as he played with your face. Admiring all your features.

“Good.” He snickered, as you swatted at his hand. The both of you able to share a laugh, as there was a soft knock at the door. All Sirius had to do was give a sniff in the air, and he knew who it was. A whistle was given, before he grabbed a pillow for you. So you could cover up, despite the fact Remus has certainly saw you naked many times.

“Feeling better now-? Could have used a silencing charm. Had to tell Harry Kreacher was fixing a wardrobe.” Remus scoffed, with a tray of needed drinks and snacks. He would set it down on the bed side table, before joining on the bed. He deserved to catch up with Sirius to. Fine by you.

With some shifting, you were soon snuggled between the two men. Sirius still playing with your hair, as the two men remained sitting up. Keeping their voices low, so you could drift. Just able to be safe, and warm, again. Snuggling your husband, and comforted by the sound of old memories.

What a wonderful lullaby.

[deadbeat-motel]

ᗩᑎGEᒪ ᗪᑌᔕT ᖇEᗪEᔕIGᑎ

Me going talky-talky below the cut

I wanted to redesign this guy the most because of so many issues I have with his actual design, namely:

The suit is a travesty.... for both his background as a hypersexual porn actor and a previous mafia member. It does not read well as a good design for an Italian mobster of the 1920s. Do you really not think he would rock a pinstripe? I mean come on, those three horizontal lines on his suit look really tacky to me. You should've taken that pinstripe suit from Sir Pentious and given it to him instead. and not only that but it doesn't even read well as a porn actor who has no qualms about being sexualized and pretty much even revels in it. why does the suit basically cover him up like a conservative politician? come on, let him show off a bit more.

WHY A BOWTIE??? WHY??? A SIMPLE GOOGLE SEARCH WILL SHOW YOU THAT A NECKTIE WAS MORE IN FASHION DURING THAT TIME RATHER THAN A BOWTIE. The bowtie was something that pissed me off so much about the design.

He's not a very good spider design. the only thing about him that looks remotely spider-like is that he has those eye dots under the eyes and the many limbs.... nothing else. not the very large abdomen or the actual 4 pairs of limbs a spider is supposed to have. Not even a web pattern on him like Spiderman who embodies "spider" more than him.

YOU TOOK THE FLOOF OFF OF HIM??? THE ICONIC FLOOF???? unacceptable. In retaliation, I'm giving it back bigger than ever you coward!

Anyways, here's the thought process I went through with this design:

He needed to embody his Mafia/porn addict themes through his clothing so I went with an outfit that looks like a slutty Halloween costume of a mobster. Plus it would have also differentiated him from his family who most likely would've had a stronger Mafia vibe than he did.

Gave him a tiny little hat too because i thought it looked cute.

I remember hearing that Angel Dust's most iconic part was his head's unusual shape, so I decided to keep it on him but tweaked it a little bit with his hair covering the other half of his face. (This was for some kind of lore reason, maybe he's insecure about his heterochromia, That's where he was shot and has an X over it, or his eyes are malformed on that side, still thinking about it)

Originally was going to have matching black gloves for his arms too but then it was harder to see what was his arm or leg so I let him have nothing instead to keep the pairs of limbs separated

Gave him some hoop rings too because why not let a bad bitch have one?

I've seen necktie cat collars go around earlier and thought it would fit well for Angel Dust considering I didn't give him a shirt and that i took off his choker as well.

Aside from a MASSIVE flooff, I also gave him a massive spider "butt" with the missing pair of limbs. I decided to make it legs because honestly, It's much harder to think of how he would emote naturally with 6 arms. Plus it was interesting to think about how a 4 legged bipedal would work. Immediately my first thought went to Squidward Tentacles from both the show and the musical but then it wouldn't work because of the complexity of the legs. It's main purpose now is to both hold up the large spider "butt" and be his self-defense when being approached from behind.

Originally was going to have those big ass claw things on his mouth (I'm most likely wrong but the 'chelicerae' thing?) but thought it would clutter the design too much and because there was a big possibility that Val probably ripped them off of him when he had bitten once, if not multiple times, in self-defense.)

I'll probably talk about him more when he pops up in an episode I'm going to go in-depth about or give him his own dedicated rant about how Vivziepop treated his story.