#they are getting separated for a bit... just a bit

[yan-randomfandom]

I've been reading the fanart. You have a natural talent for creating a more distinctive personality for the Saja Boys from the bits and pieces they gave us in the movie!

Ever since that fanart where the Saja sneaked into the reader's room, I couldn't stop imagining what they would be like sleeping alone with her, as if every day of the week except the weekends they will take turns sleeping with the reader or something like that.

And again, I love your writing. I hope you like the idea. Have a nice day!!!

Saja Boys x GN!Reader

a/n; anon thank you so much heheh!!! this one isn't too accurate to your idea, but i love it and i hope it's still okay!

summary; physical touch with the boys and why they wanna go to your bedroom :))) (touch starved. written separately but they all live in the same housing)

warnings; stalking (watching you sleep), body curious, touching w no permission, nothing sexual tho!

— 🍃 [Monday]

Here's the thing, guys. The boys don't actually need sleep. They're demons. Sleep isn't something their bodies need—instead it's something they want. They are still aware and can feel through touch, which is exactly why they'd prefer to sleep with you.

You're warm, so alive, and they don't know it yet.

Surprisingly enough, Jinu is the first one to knock on your door.

"Jinu?" you drawl, voice laced with sleep. He stands awkwardly by the doorway, patiently waiting for you to process what's happening. Glancing idly at your sleepwear and dimlit room.

You yawn, widening the door. "What's up? Need something?" You pause, raising a lazy accusing finger. "Wait. You're not here to suck my blood, are you—?!"

"What? No!" Jinu gasps, almost offended. You sigh out of relief anyway.

"...We're not interested in physical bodies. Anyway, uh, sorry for waking you up. I just need to see how our socials are going," he explains as he steps into your room. "You can power your computer and go back to sleep."

As soon as you heard the word 'social', you were already turning it on. "'kay, buddy. You sure you don't need help, though? I know I taught you a bit but I understand it can get confusing—"

"No, no," Jinu huffs, denial flooding his form. "I can do it."

"You remember how to turn it off?"

"Yes. Don't worry."

Then you fall asleep next to him, your body slightly pressing against his. His eyes slowly drift away from the glow of the computer screen to your sleeping form. He stares for a moment.

Soft, warm. It reminds him of the past on how he couldn't sleep with his own fam—

Jinu pulls the computer plug off and teleports away.

—💐 [Tuesday]

Baby made you piggyback him. A lot. It was sort of your fault.

You saw the Saja Boys taking turns carrying him—it was a pretty funny ordeal. Then you jokingly offered to piggyback him to see what the hype was about.

He accepted it all too eagerly. As soon as his full weight falls on you, you're genuinely surprised at how light he is. It's probably equivalent to a box full of volleyballs.

"You're lighter than I thought," you say, adjusting your arms behind his legs.

Baby suddenly lets his head rest on yours. "Why are you so..." Warm. He buries himself into your shoulder, his arms tightening around you.

"Why am I so what?" you ask, turning your head, only achieving to tickle him more.

He doesn't let you go for the rest of the day.

And by extension, night.

You tried to complain at first. "Didn't we agree to—"

"Just this once, please?"

You folded.

He snuggles all comfortable within your arms, acting as the little spoon, greedily content in your warmth and breathing.

But then you wake up with his mouth on your skin. He wasn't biting, sucking, or anything. It was just.... there.

Still, though, you assumed the worst.

"I thought you said demons don't suck blood, Jinu!?!"

"We don't!!?!"

—🪷 [Wednesday]

Abby wanted you to touch his abs for some mysterious reason. Yapping about how "no one else will have this chance," or "you might not live long enough to feel it!" and "I actually haven't let anyone touch my artificial abs yet" — it was really weird, but you shrugged it off and agreed anyway.

Like hell yeah. Sure, why not?

So he unbuttons his shirt, all giddy, and watches as you reach for his skin.

You make contact with his abs. Caressing it gently, it feels normal in texture — but you suppose it's a little too cold. The fact didn't totally sound weird at the time.

Looking up, you flinch at Abby's expression. You thought he'd be smiling, like he was the whole time, but he looks so serious that it's actually concerning. He's not looking at you; his eyes were down and fixated on your hand.

You notice, pulling your hand away from him, and snapping your fingers. "You okay?"

He blinks. "Uh."

Later that night, Abby welcomes himself into your room.

He stares at you from the corner. From the center. From the edge of your bedframe. On your bed.

Sometimes, he'd gently let his hands roam over your exposed skin. Mostly your warm hands. And your warm face.

You wake up to find his face in front of you.

Screaming, you unintentionally kick him in the abs.

"Ow, my perfectly crafted abs!"

— 🪻 [Thursday]

Mystery almost lost it when you pat his head.

You did it voluntarily. It's a nice, comforting feeling as you pat his shoulder, his arm, and his cheek. He utterly melts under your casual touches without a single word.

He loves it. You leave him demanding for more. So, Mystery decides to linger around you like a guard dog. Who hopes to be spoiled, who wishes to be held.

But, then, night comes.

"You're not exactly allowed in my room," you say, only to pause when he straight up whimpers.

... You folded. With a sigh, you step away from the door and give him space to walk in.

He happily skips into your room, flopping face-first on your bed. You stare at him for a moment, thinking about how despite them not being human — they really love to rest.

You lie down, feeling Mystery move around under your blanket, closing your eyes when he finds himself comfortable against your chest.

Your chest rising and falling with every breath—Mystery simply can't help but feel envious.

— 🌺 [Friday]

Romance is confused.

There's a buzz between his band members — apparently, they visited your bedroom? Didn't they agree to avoid that specific place in this house?

He doesn't realize he's been staring blankly at nowhere. Reality hits him hard when something gentle touches his hair.

"Might wanna style your hair again, Rome," you chuckle, brushing his hair with your fingers. He shivers when your skin grazes his forehead. "You got the bed head. Though I guess you just snap your fingers and it'd be all okay."

You leave right after that, but Romance keeps staring at the last place he saw your figure, his fingers fidgeting with the hair you just touched.

Okay. He gets it now.

Next day, you woke up with him hovering over your head.

You suddenly grab his shoulders, push him back against your bed, breathing heavy from the shock. The bed sinks under both your weight.

Romance stares immensely up at you.

"You guys," you breath, "will be the death of me."

He smirks. "I can only imagine."

— krazy

[adeptustemptations]

How do you think caleb or any of the others lads guys would react to their wife lactating? 👀 do you think that they'd be down to try it? I love your writing!! 💗💗

Honey, is that...? 🍼

(wc. 2.1k) How would the LADS boys react when they spot you, their wife, lactating?

featuring: rafayel x reader, sylus x reader, caleb x reader, zayne x reader, xavier x reader (all separate) warnings: mild smut, mdni.

a/n: first request down! i definitely think all of the boys would be down to try it LOL. i had so much fun writing this. hope you guys enjoy! c:

🧜 RAFAYEL:

At first, you think Rafayel’s being moody because of something work related. Probably just something about him not getting inspiration for his next piece.

He's quiet during dinner, pushing his food around with the fork, glancing at you between bites but saying nothing. Then he sighs. Dramatically. Like you’ve just told him the love of his life is marrying someone else.

“Do you need the tub prepared?” you ask, gently patting the baby's mouth with a cloth as your baby drifts off to sleep, full and milk-drunk in your arms.

He shrugs. “No.”

Another sigh. Even more dramatic this time.

You narrow your eyes. “Okay, what’s wrong with you?”

Silence.

You put the baby down in the bassinet, tiptoeing back to the couch where he’s brooding like a man personally victimized by your child. You sit beside him and poke his thigh.

“Rafayel. Talk.”

He doesn’t answer at first. Just shifts in his seat dramatically, like you should already know why he’s in a mood.

You raise a brow. “Raf?”

“…Why does he get to taste it?” he finally mutters.

You blink. “What?”

Rafayel lifts his gaze, eyes narrowed. “Your milk. The baby gets all of it. Meanwhile, I, your husband, don’t even get to try?”

You stare at him, baffled, amused, a little turned on by how offended he looks.

He shifts closer suddenly, tone softening like he’s trying to guilt you.

 “You used to let me suck on them all the time,” he mumbles, voice pitiful. “Now I get nothing.”

“Rafayel Qi,” you say, laughing despite yourself. “You’re jealous of your own child?”

“He doesn’t even appreciate it,” Rafayel huffs dramatically. “He’s just... drinking. No compliments. No praise. No loving gaze. No eye contact.” He places a hand over his heart. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

“You want to flirt with my boobs while I’m nursing?”

He nods solemnly. “And after.”

You blink. “Raf.”

“No, no, go ahead. Ignore me. That’s fine.” He gestures grandly, flopping back on the couch like a neglected kid in a drama. 

“I mean, I get it,” Rafayel huffs, gesturing vaguely toward the baby now blissfully passed out at the bassinet. “He needs it. It’s nourishment. Bonding. Blah blah. But like, what about me? A stranger in my own marriage.”

You roll your eyes. “Then ask.”

He freezes. Turns to you slowly.

“…Seriously?”

You nod. “If you’re that curious, then fine. Go ahead.”

Wasting no moment, he immediately latches onto you, and his reaction is instant. His eyes roll back. A full-body shudder.

He suckles on your nipple with the eagerness of a thirsty man who had just found water after days of being dehydrated. When a bit of milk manages to escape from the side? He immediately laps it up, wasting no drop.

He pulls back, breathless. Dazed. “...Fuck."

Then he smirks.

“Alright. New plan. Let’s have six more kids.”

You shove him off the couch.

🐦‍⬛ SYLUS:

Everyone in the N109 Zone knows that Sylus doesn’t kneel.

He doesn’t plead.

He doesn’t repeat himself.

He doesn’t need to.

He gives orders, and people obey. His name alone strikes fear into civilians and corrupt officials alike. He's the kind of man who takes what he wants, and everyone bends at his will.

But you?

You’re the one thing he never commands.

Because with you, he never wants to.

And right now? He’s at your feet.

Literally.

It starts when you’re in the privacy of your home, in a soft robe, curled on the couch with your baby fast asleep in the bassinet. You’re drowsy and glowing, eyes heavy from the feeding, your robe slipping just slightly to reveal a glistening patch where you’ve started to leak again.

Sylus was reading some documents, possibly just about a new batch of weapons shipped to one of his armories. All that boring stuff. When he looks at you, his eyes immediately zero to your chest.

He freezes.

The documents clattered to the ground. 

You glance at him, confused. “Sylus?”

But he’s already closing the space between you. You see it, the desire in his eyes as he kneels before you, palms on your thighs, breath hot and uneven.

“Please.”

His voice is hoarse. Ragged. Barely a whisper.

You blink. “Huh?”

“I need to taste you, sweetie.” He says it like it physically hurts to admit, jaw clenched. 

“Can I try? Please?”

Your breath hitches. “Sylus—”

“I never beg,” he murmurs, leaning forward, brushing his lips against the skin of your breast. “But I’ll get on my knees for this. For you.”

He doesn’t ask again.

Just lowers his mouth to your breast and licks. The moment the white liquid hits his tongue, everything changes.

His lips part in stunned disbelief. Then, he groans, deep and guttural, like you just unlocked something feral in him.

“You taste sweet,” he rasps. He’s already latching on you again, open-mouthed, greedy. 

“Fuck. You taste better than anything.”

You gasp, clutching at his shoulders as he begins to devour you. There’s nothing classy about the way he sucks at you–it’s messy, hungry, possessive. Like he’s waited his whole life for this and didn’t even know it.

You try to say something, to make a joke; “You’re worse than the baby.”

But Sylus growls into your skin, low and dark: “I’ll give you another one. I’ll fill you up again, if that’s what it takes to keep you like this.”

Your breath stutters. “Sylus—”

“No one else gets this. No one else gets to taste you like this.” He presses his palm to your womb. “You hear me? Only me.”

And you believe him. Because when Sylus Qin finds something he likes?

He gets it.

🍎 CALEB:

It starts with the panties.

Caleb thinks he’s subtle about it. Volunteering to do your laundry in the pretense that he 'just wants to help', setting aside a pair that smells like you, worn, soft, intimate. The design doesn't matter too, the one with lace? Spectacular. The cotton ones he bought with the apple patterns? Give him 14 of them right now. He tells himself it’s harmless, just something to keep close when you're gone on long shifts or too tired to stay up with him after work from the Hunter's Association.

When you've caught him in the act, all he does is raise an eyebrow, as if you're the one being strange.

“What?” he says, with that deadpan tone of his, nose still pressed into the fabric. “You smell nice.”

You should be flustered, but you’ve been married to this man long enough to know how weirdly intense he can be. It's part of the Caleb experience. When you tried scolding him because some of your pairs have gone missing, all he does is shoot you his signature puppy-eyed look.

But then after giving birth to your baby, everything changes. Your underwear drawer's surprisingly complete, and none of the pairs have gone missing. You'd think that maybe Caleb had just become too busy tending to the baby to even focus on his needs.

But what you don't notice is how his touches linger longer during nighttime cuddles, especially around your chest, or the way he glances at your shirt when it dampens just a little.

It happens when you’re fresh out of the shower. You're drying your hair, not noticing at first that the front of your shirt is damp. A few minutes later, you glance down and–

Oh.

You’re leaking.

“Caleb?" you call out, not thinking much of it, “I think I’m lactating again. I forgot to pump.”

You don’t expect a reaction. You expect him to say something like, ‘Want me to grab the pump?’

What you don’t expect is for Caleb to freeze in the doorway, eyes locked on the wet patch spreading across the fabric.

“...Again?” he says quietly.

You blink at him. “Yeah? That’s usually how it works.”

His eyes narrow, his jaw clenches, and before you can respond, he’s across the room, pushing your shirt up to your chest with eagerness, hunger glinting in those beautiful purple eyes.

“Let me taste.”

Your brain short circuits. “Wha–Caleb–?”

But he’s already there, lips closing around your nipple, hand firmly planted at your waist like he owns you.

And when he moans? You swear it’s the dirtiest sound he’s ever made.

He drinks like he’s been deprived. Like this was what he needed all along, and nothing else compares. Not the panties. Not your bath soap. Not even the taste of your skin.

No–this. This is divine. This is yours.

Later, when you're sprawled on the bed, dazed and breathless, he kisses your stomach and murmurs softly:

"Maybe we should have another baby. Just so you don't run out."

You laugh. “You're a freak.”

“I’m serious.”

He looks up at you, utterly sincere, eyes dark with something that’s not quite lust–it’s obsession, devotion, need.

And you know then: he’s addicted.

Not just to you.

But to every part of you.

☃️ ZAYNE:

You already knew Zayne had a problem with sweets.

The bakery receipts stuffed in his lab coat. The way he always “accidentally” wanders into the dessert section at the grocery store. The time he got bribed by Dr. Greyson with macarons.

But this?

You hadn’t seen coming.

It starts innocently enough; he’s helping you undress after a long day, brushing his fingers along the curve of your side as he unclasps your bra. You’re a few weeks postpartum, still sore and soft in all the ways he loves. He’s kneeling in front of you, peppering lazy kisses along your stomach when he notices the damp spot on your breast.

"Hmm?" He hums, brows furrowing. He leans in closer.

"You're leaking."

You sigh. “Yeah. I forgot to pump again. I’ll go get–”

“No,” Zayne cuts in, already cupping your breast in his hand. “Let me.”

“Zayne–!”

But he’s already latched on before you can finish, mouth closing around you like it’s second nature.

The first taste hits him like a drug.

His eyes widen.

Then flutter shut.

He moans. Actually moans. Like he just took a bite out of the best dessert of his life.

“Dearest,” he breathes when he finally pulls back, his lips still wet. “Why didn’t you tell me it tastes like this?”

You blink, a little dazed. “Like… what?”

He licks his lips. “Sweet. Warm...”

Then his gaze flicks up, dark and hungry. “Better than any dessert I've ever tasted.”

Your face flushes. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” he says, already nudging you backward onto the bed, crawling over you with sinful intent. “But you married me.”

And just like that, he’s latched on again, slow, thorough, absolutely obsessed. Like he’s savoring every drop. Like you’re his final meal, and he’s a man who’s starved.

When he finally pulls away, lips wet and pupils blown wide, he looks like he’s come undone.

Then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, he mutters:

“…I think I need to adjust my meal plan.”

You raise a brow. “You’re joking.”

He shakes his head, dead serious. “You’re my new dessert. Effective immediately.”

⭐ XAVIER:

It’s still dark out when Xavier stirs beside you.

He wakes like he always does. Quiet, warm, arms automatically reaching for your sleeping form. He pulls you close, breath brushing on your neck, his hand splaying across your waist under the covers.

That’s when he notices it.

A damp spot on your shirt. Right over your chest. You’re on your side, curled towards him, unaware.

He blinks once. Then twice. Brain still foggy from sleep.

But then he leans closer, nose brushing against the fabric, breathing in the scent that’s distinctly you. Warm and milky. Sweet.

Something stirs in him. Not lust, something gentler. Deeper.

An ache in his chest he can’t explain. Like he wants to be closer, somehow. Like he needs to feel it. Taste it.

He shifts beneath the blankets, carefully nudging the neckline of your shirt down. He presses a kiss just above your nipple, reverent, before wrapping his lips softly around it.

You stir, eyelids fluttering. “...Xavi?” you murmur, voice gravelly with sleep.

“Mm,” he hums against your skin, mouth still lazily suckling. “Just helping.”

You blink blearily at him. “That’s… not how the pump works.”

“Don’t care,” he whispers. “Tastes better this way.”

You huff a soft laugh, too tired to scold him, too warm to care. “You’re unbelievable.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his dark hair tousled, eyes still heavy lidded. 

“It’s comforting,” he says simply, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You’re comforting.”

And with that, he tucks himself back into your arms, head resting on your chest, one hand lazily cupping your breast. You feel the occasional soft suckle as he drifts off again, slow and rhythmic, like a baby himself.

You close your eyes.

The room is quiet. The baby’s still asleep. And for now... just for now, there’s no need to move.

You both fall back into sleep, tangled together, Warm, safe, and full.

—

[MASTERLIST]

[sabrina-senpai]

Saja boys w/ fem manager reader who explains periods to them;

Character/s: Jinu, Romance, Abby, Baby & Mystery

Character pairings: Jinu/you, Romance/you, Abby/you, Baby/you & Mystery/you

A/N: Characters may be ooc, writing style might be messy and just me rambling really

Jinu:

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

• “So the uterus just... peels??”

• simply short circuits, he's kinda loser coded from how flustered he gets tbh-

• has to sit down and process what you just said

• will try to act nonchalant and tease you but when you glare at him he's sat there like- 🫥

• he's not sure how to react, bc on one hand he's absolutely baffled by how the female human body works but pretty impressed at how you're not dying on the spot

• (spoiler alert- you are)

• does not know what to do or how to help

• will try to lower your work load just a little by keeping the boys in check and not disturbing you

• for the sake of your sanity and their safety and world domination he will try to help you the best he can

• when you snap at him he just rolls his eyes at you, but hands you a heat compress when he passes by you again.

• you eventually snap at someone else and threaten to throw their stuff out the window

• he walks on eggshells around you from then on

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Romance:

• “Wait… you bleed every month and don’t die?”

• "that's kinda hot"

• the man who looks like he's Wattpad cringey men incarnate find out what happens during your period? ('m kidding he's one of my faves)

• cue the disbelief.

• he thought bleeding meant fatal injury — now you’re telling him it happens on purpose?

• "you are one strong woman manager-nim.."

• wait till he finds out about your hormonal spikes..😟

• he's genuinely confused and lowk worried at how you endure cramps based on your description of them

• a little sht through and through tho, will not stop teasing and flirting with you either way

• "Would you like me to kiss it better-" *smack* "-worth it"

• you snap at him? He's quiet for a second but smirks and says

• "that's kinky.. scream at me more-"

• but when you physically have to lean on something bc your cramps are that bad, he will show a lil bit of empathy and rub your back for comfort

• and holds back on teasing until you feel better (almost fails like separate 3 times)

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Abby:

• “You okay? Need me to fight your uterus?”

• no bc he would if he could

• actually tries- until you smack him upside the head

• does zero damage to him but stops trying for now

• curious as to how painful cramps actually are

• still thinks you're over exaggerating abt the pain but won't push you (you threaten him with smth. what you ask? no clue either.. but he stops so a win is a win ig)

• respects u a little more bc of it

• honestly..lemme get a nibble of those shoulders and then we'll talk-

• for real tho- with enough pain induced persuasion (from you obv) he will reluctantly happily let you bite him if the cramps get too bad

• again no damage done to him whatsoever;-;

• "Is this an excuse to get a taste of my beautiful muscles? If so.. manager-nim there's no need for one"

• offers you his abs to use as a pillow

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Baby:

• “I’m just gonna... not think about that.”

• does not wanna think about it

• fails

• will plug his ears and just la-la-la his way out

• definitely judges you and your cravings

• side eyes you when they're particularly weird

• he's not necessarily cruel abt it but is either immature or embarrassed.. or both

• does slowly evolve into sympathy with the right education (manager-nim? More like seonsaengnim teacher)

• eventually gets curious at how you function normally

• “manager-nim can't you just plug it? Like a cork? Using those tampoon thingies?"

• "how bout I put a cork in your mouth instead-"

• cue you mid-breakdown trying to explain how tampons work and how they can't just be shoved inside forever

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Mystery:

• “How do you not get mad at your own uterus..?”

• will stare at you with the most bewildered frown you can imagine from just seeing his mouth bro is almost impossible to read..💔

• immediately goes into a spiral of mental questions and stands there like 🧍

• frown deepens as he thinks about how much energy you have to use to do day to day activities while in constant pain..

• most likely imagining how painful it feels and his hair physically deflates at the thought..

• pokes at your lower abdomen like he's trying to decipher ancient text

• will growl at you if you try to sass him bro literally barked at a fan wdym he doesn't have undiscovered anger issues??

• he apologizes by massaging your hand later on

• will lay on your lap if you ask beg and become your personal heating pad

• the listener to your yapper frfr

• probably falls asleep mid yap but you wouldn't know, his eyes are literally nonexistent to you..

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Sorry if it's not that good it's my first time writing headcannons for these gremlins so m sorry if they're pretty ooc, specially since we (I) don't know much in general abt them at all.

But I'm tryna improve with every fic:^

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

And asks/requests are open:)

Thanks for reading!!!

(credits for the original divider post bc idk if it's F2U)

[dawnfire12]

Dressing Room Hookup

Pairing: Jinu (Kpop Demon Hunter) X You (female)

Summary: You are Rumi’s youngster sister and a part of Huntrix. You and Jinu have had some interactions which consist of insults and fights to hide the tension between the two of you. Jinu has come to take what is his.

Warning: 18+ (mdni!), explicit smut content, p in v, fingering, dirty talk, breeding kink, creampie

Y/N was fluffing the ends of your hair and humming to warm up the vocal cords before going on stuff. Your dressing room was very simple. It has a long mirror with little fairy lights wrapped around the edges of the mirror frame and a long white benchtop in front of it. You had a few different colored bean bag chairs scattered around the room with a long brown couch that had two pink heart shaped pillows towards the back of the room.

While you were fixing your mascara, a creak from the door let you know someone entered. Your eyes focused and you saw it was Jinu, wearing a white t-shirt and jeans. 

You whipped around,”What are you doing here?”

“What? I can’t come see my favorite artist before they perform?” He put his hand on his heart.

You held your hand out by your side conjuring your sword when he started waving his finger. As your sword entered your hand, Jinu appeared in front of you and pressed his arm against your throat.

“Now, that’s just rude. Having a weapon in front of a guest.” He wrapped his other arm around my waist bringing me closer to him.

“You’re not exactly a guest.” You grip my sword.

“Hmm. I guess you can say that’s true since I’m here for one thing.” He brought his face closer to mine, our noses brushing.

“And what’s that?” You exhaled.

You didn’t get a reply. Or you can get the reply was his lips pressing against yours. You dropped the sword out of shock and he pinched your waist, making you moan and letting his tongue in your mouth. You gripped his shirt as he devoured you. Each kiss made your head spin and you couldn’t think. You could barely breathe but that didn’t matter as long as he kept kissing you. His other arm that was against your neck brought one of your legs around his waist. He moved his hips up and down and you gasped, separating from the kiss, and throwing your head back.

He trailed his lips down to your neck and started sucking and licking wherever he could. You dug your nails into his arms as he grinded faster against you. The motion of his hips felt so delicious as he had his hips angled to where it brushed against your clothed clit every time.

He brought his lips back to yours and had his tongue curling behind your teeth. You didn’t even notice him unbuttoning your shorts until his fingers had found their way into your pussy.

“Oh my god!” You moaned as his fingers just brushed against your opening.

“You are dripping. Only I can get you this wet.” He says as his fingers still tease you by not entering.

You bit your lip, “You wish.”

He narrows his eyes and shoves two fingers in you, making you cry out. His fingers curl up every time he thrusts them in you. You let out little whimpers and small moans. His other hand comes down and he starts circling your clit.

“Oh Jinu!” You start shaking, the pressure he puts on your clit feels so good.

He smirks before ripping out his fingers and turns you around to face your mirror. He yanks down his pants and bends you forwards a bit before thrusting into you at once. He gives you no time to adjust to his big cock.

“Oh fuck! Jinu!” You cry out.

He sets a relentless brutal pace. He grabs your hips and slams his into you over and over again. You can’t even hide the moans, they just keep pouring out of you, especially the moans of his name.

“See, only I can get you this wrecked.” He brags.

You don’t acknowledge his statement, too busy focusing on how his dick just hits your g spot so nicely.

He pulls your hair,”Say it!”

You whine,”Only you! Jinu!”

He keeps thrusting into you while yanking on your hair. Your hands scrambling against the desk, it feels so good. 

“Look at yourself making a mess all over my cock.” He moves his hand down to your neck and you open your eyes to see how his dick goes in and out of you. His eyes changing yellow and his patterns start to show. His nails start to grow long, you can feel them digging into your waist and your neck. 

“I’m gonna wreck this pussy. Your pussy will only remember my dick. You were made for me.” He bites your neck and starts circling your clit.

“Oh Jinu! Jinu!” You shout as your walls start to hug his dick tighter and tighter.

“That’s it! Be a good girl and cum on my cock! And once you’re done I’ll fill you with my seed so everyone knows who you belong to. You want that don’t you?” His voice started to sound a bit demonic.

“Yes Jinu! Yes! Yours!” You sob as the pressure that kept building inside exploded making you cry out and keep repeating his name.

“Fuck! Fuck!” He pumped into you a few more times before spilling his seed in you. You moan once you feel his cum filling you up, feeling full.

He pulled out of you and pulled your shorts back up, securing his cum in you. You looked at yourself in the mirror and you had marks all over you, mascara running down your face and wild hair.

“Well, good luck performing now,” He flipped his hair.

You stood there in shock as he left trying to figure out how you were going to hide the marks and put yourself together before the performance.

One thing for sure is you are going to get him back.

[kandlewick]

janitor yuu au! kalim who is finally able to travel back home for the holidays since he wasn't able to during winter break due to... circumstances quite literally out of his control. jamil is also with him and regardless of the twos still rocky relationship, they're both wiling to have some kind of truce while visiting family.

and now kalim finds himself at a loss as everything he's so used to doing for himself is now being done on his behalf. instead of the same few outfits to rotate through, now he has servants waiting at his beck and call to garb him in a brand new outfit every day, each more luxurious then the next. food is now brought to him, fresh and warm and spiced to perfection but he feels selfish now to admit he misses the way you cooked, with the slightly burned ends and the faint taste of plastic from the tupperware. he misses the familiar fabric of his now worn out cardigan. the close weaving had begun to separate and he had just started being able to fit his fingers through the yarn and it wrapped around his fingers so securely it felt like a warm hug.

he felt selfish here, laying on his fancy bed with the canopy and thick comforter, pillows galore, because despite being back in luxury, he missed the familiarity of the ramshackle dorm and the janitor and grim. he missed having choices. he missed having control.

jamil finds him sneaking out in the middle of the night and he reluctantly follows, his footsteps light as the two of them made their way to the kitchen.

everything was quiet now, the servants having been long dismissed, and kalim felt himself let out a sigh of relief. nobody was there to stop him. with an almost excited pep to his step, he made his way in to the heavily stocked pantry and began his search. he felt bad, but the food that was given to him for dinner was too rich, it made his stomach hurt, and he found that his palette wasn't as fond of fancier food now that he's had the simpler things.

"you're not going to find anything like what the janitor has stored away in ramshackle if that's what you're looking for."

the sound of jamil's voice startled kalim enough that he slammed his head against a shelf. his hands immediately flew up to cradle his skull and he let out a sharp whine. he looked up at jamil with tears in his eyes but brightened when he saw him leaving against the door frame, arms crossed with a familiar unamused expression on his face. kalim was quick to straighten himself to his full height and gave his friend(?) a nervous smile. no matter how jamil felt about him, kalim couldn't help but think of him as his closest friend in spite of everything.

"ah, uhm! i figured!" kalim let out a small laugh. his hands reached to nervously fidget at the loose yarn of his cardigan but found nothing, only the silky smooth fabric of a new shawl over his shoulders. the thinness of it left him feeling exposed. "all the food the servants made was really good but i felt it was a bit too much! ever since i've lived in ramshackle, i've gotten so use to eating—"

"you're so use to eating scraps now that you decided to raid the servant's kitchens to see if you could find something to reassure yourself that you weren't 'becoming spoiled' again?" jamil's tone was icy again, like from back when they argued, and kalim felt himself unintentionally shrinking in on himself. jamil continued, "and then, because you dont know the first thing about anything, you were going to get me to make whatever silly thing the janitor could scrounge up with left over tuna and some eggs so you could sit in the kitchen and eat it up and think to yourself 'wow im such a good person, having learned to enjoy the simpler things in life' all while going back to your room and sleeping like a little baby, safe and cuddled up in your several thousand thaumark sheets, spoiled rotten beyond belief—"

"you're right," kalim nodded, "i am spoiled."

"but i've also learned how meaningless a lot of this is." kalim's shoulders slumped, "did you know that there were servants whose entire job was to make sure my bathwater wasn't too hot or too cold? I didn't," he laughed, "i just thought the water came out perfect every time."

he remembered his first cold shower in ramshackle and how he sneezed and sneezed and sneezed. he remembered how the janitor had made him some chalky hot cocoa to help warm himself up and that it was the tastiest thing he had had all day. he remembers them wrapping him up in several ratty blankets and reassuring him that he would get use to it.

"the first cold shower is always the worst. so is the second. and so is the third. but eventually it will be ok."

"is it ok for you?"

the janitor hadn't said anything then, only offered him a small smile and a shrug before grim stole their attention away from him.

kalim blinked. he was back in the present.

"i spent my whole life having someone do everything for me and i thought that it was normal. that it was ok because i didn't know how to do anything properly and i didn't! but nobody would let me try. nobody let me fail. the only person who ever trusted me with my own choices was them."

"if i even so much as picked up a bread knife, you or some other servant would pluck it from my hands. saying things like, 'oh thats too dangerous for you' or 'don't worry kalim i've got it handled.' and i've suffered because of it!" he looked down at his hands and finally felt a sense of comfort in the cheap, colorful band aids that were wrapped around his fingers. burn marks, cuts, bruises, all things he never got to experience here in the palace or even in his own dorm.

his choices, his own choices.

"i am spoiled, jamil, you're right, but unlike you, i want to change. im tired of having everyone do everything for me. i want to cook my meals and make my own bed. i want to study hard and succeed where i let myself fail because i knew i had you to count on. i want to be able to rely on myself, jamil so if you'll excuse me im going to make a tuna and butter sandwich on stale bread."

[starmapz]

deprived - r. sukuna

❦ biker!ryomen sukuna x biker!f!reader [non-curse au]

❦ smut oneshot

❝ when you get home after work grumpier than sukuna usually is, he knows something's wrong. when you deprive him of a kiss once you've returned, well now he's just pissed. for that, he'll deprive you of all of your senses as he pampers you with his mouth and fingers. ❞

❦ cw ; 18+ only. mdni. contains explicit sexual content. husband!sukuna. dom!sukuna. sub!reader. sensory deprivation. ball gag. blindfold. music. manhandling. nipple play (f! receiving). neck kissing. marking. biting. licking. bondage. fingering. oral (f!receiving). spit. use of pet names (brat, baby, sweetheart, wife, girl). praise. praising degradation. taunting. edging. pussy slapping. toys (bullet vibe). teasing. aftercare. kinda soft!sukuna during aftercare :]. part of the love & company series of oneshots but can be read separately/out of order.

❦ words ; 5.2k.

previous l&c oneshot || love & company masterlist || main masterlist

Biker!Sukuna leans his head on the back of the couch, windswept pink hair hanging over the fabric as you sigh the moment you shut the door of your shared home behind you. He twists, a bulky bicep resting on the back of the couch to see you better. “Long day?”

“Long fucking day,” you agree, sighing once more.

“Work?”

You nod, pulling your laptop from your bag and setting it on the counter, only to open it back up and resume working. Your husband’s eyes narrow as he watches you stand at the kitchen counter in your work attire without so much as a welcome home kiss.

Like really, what the hell? You didn’t even kiss him?

With his extremely usual scowl, he pushes up from the couch, discarding the hoodie he was wearing (because there’s no world where you can resist Sukuna’s cocky charm and veiny forearms, right?) and follows you to the kitchen. He slides his body up to you, his hands finding a place along your waist as he presses his body against your back.

“I need to work, Ryomen,” you mutter tiredly, pulling away.

Stunned and downright offended at this point that you’ve just used his government name, denied him of his ‘honey, I’m home’ kiss, and shrugged him off like a discarded shawl, his lip curls in confusion. 

“You should quit.”

Your head finally whips around, and he swears his own scowl is mirrored on your face. “I can’t just quit. We have bills, Ryomen.”

“Stop fuckin’ calling me that-”

“Your name?” You query incredulously, giving him just an ounce more of your attention.

“My full name,” he corrects you, crossing his arms over his chest, and that’s when you notice it. Your big beefy husband is pouting.

Oh you do not have time for this. Shaking your head, you turn back to your laptop, still standing at the counter in your work clothes.

“C’mon. At least change into something comfy,” he prods, knowing you’re just at wit’s end with the day, and not with him specifically. He may be offended by your dismissal of his affections, but he knows he hasn’t done anything wrong.

Probably.

He does pause to think about it, though.

No, no. He’s good.

“I will later,” you wave him off again, leaving him further perturbed as he makes a show out of huffing and trudging back to the living room to resume what he was watching.

As over an hour goes by and you haven’t even moved from standing at the counter, he gets fed up, shutting the TV off and practically stomping back into the kitchen. He stands on the cusp of entering the room, arms crossed over his chest.

“You done yet? I need to make dinner, you’re in the damn way.”

That’s not the issue, he’s deflecting and he knows it, but Sukuna’s not about to admit that he wants your attention.

And his kiss.

“Not yet, give me another hour.”

“No. You got home fuckin’ forever ago. Go get changed, lemme make dinner.”

Sighing, you rub at your neck, sore from craning it to look down at your work. “Please, sweetheart. Give me a bit.”

Sukuna’s nose scrunches up in disdain. You only call him that when you’re attempting to sweet talk him in order to get your way when he’s uncooperative. And damn it, he’s a lovesick fool and it works. Every time.

You want to play dirty? He can play dirty.

With a huff, he takes a few steps towards you and physically shuts your laptop.

“Hey-!”

“Nuh uh. No more,” he frowns, looking you dead in the eye with that signature scowl, his hand firmly resting on your computer.

“You don’t understand, I have deadlines, I need-”

“You need to recharge,” he insists, his tone dropping to a hint of a growl. “I’m not arguin’ with you on this, sweetheart,” he mocks, flipping his hand to grab your wrist so that he can slide your hand into his much larger one. His skin is calloused and rough against yours, but the softness with which the grumpy and hardened man handles you never fails to make your heart race.

You want to give in and curl up on the couch and watch a reality show that he pretends to hate, but you have a presentation due early tomorrow morning and- “Please, Ryo. I just need one more hour, I promise.”

His scowl deepens and you fear the lines etched into his forehead might be permanent with the frustration he’s regarding you with. He grumbles your name, setting his free hand on your hip. He squeezes, making sure his intent comes across. “Go change into something comfy. I know you’re tired, don’t make this harder on yourself. Or are you askin’ to be tied up?”

With his breath fanning your face, he doesn’t miss the subtle way your pupils grow, your eyes darkening.

He snorts, squeezing your hip tighter. “If that’s whatcha want, then try me,” he taunts, pleased to have finally caught your attention. He knew from the moment you entered the door that you were overwhelmed and he equally knows that the easiest way to get his pretty wife to finally relax after the day he’s sure you’ve had is to take away your senses and allow you to focus only on him, only on pleasure, and only on yourself.

You contemplate his words, eyes sliding towards your laptop, then back to his lips. Your presentation is important, but you could just get up a bit early, right? Maybe you need a fresh perspective anyway, and you’re so wound up from the overwhelming day at work that giving in to Sukuna doesn’t sound so bad.

In fact, it sounds almost heavenly.

He watches carefully as you pull your arm out of his grasp, a bratty little smirk on your lips as you aim to open your laptop. He clicks his tongue before you even get the opportunity to touch the computer, barreling into your legs and flipping you over his shoulders with a triumphant grin.

“Good choice,” he hums in a gravelly tone as you squeal in surprise and cling to his shirt. “Even if you’re bein’ a brat.”

“Wait, my shirt, you’re gonna wrinkle it-”

“Enough about work,” he huffs, tossing you on your bed and pinning both of your arms over your head in one hand. “Enough. I don’t wanna hear about the damn presentation. You can finish later.”

“But-”

He growls your name in warning. “Don’t be a brat. Lemme take care of you.”

Your chest rises as you suck in a breath, nodding. He can see in the way that you hold your shoulders and the crease between your brows that you’re still stuck in your head and if that’s the case, he’ll give you something else to focus on. Pamper you in his own ‘Sukuna’ sort of way.

“That’s my pretty little wife.” He holds his hand out to you, searching for your consent. “You gonna let me take care of you?”

Again, you nod, taking his hand as you squeeze your thighs together. Heat pools in your core and you shuffle your hips, chasing the friction.

“Good,” he grins, rubbing his hand over your knuckles before disappearing altogether to open a drawer you know all-too-well. Your eyes darken a shade again as you watch him pull out a familiar set of ropes, as well as a new matching blindfold and ball gag you have yet to see. Your eyes widen, lips pursing as you take in the sight, shuffling on the edge of the bed.

“Is that new?” You ask, reaching out to slide your hands along the silk blindfold that matches Sukuna’s Ducati bike, a bright cherry red.

“Mhm,” he hums, a concentrated look on his face as he ties a slip knot into the shibari ropes you let him use on you every so often. “Wrists,” he commands, holding the knot out expectantly at you.

You make no attempt at arguing with him, slipping your wrists into the silk rope and allowing the cool material to bind your hands in front of you. The thrill causes your heart to race as you give in to your husband, allowing him to take full control. You shuffle once more, seeking any amount of friction on your already-throbbing clit.

Sukuna clicks his tongue, pressing his hands down on your thighs and spreading them just enough to keep you from seeking the friction you want so badly. “Be good,” he growls, leaving one hand on your thigh as your legs hang over the edge of the bed. “I’m only askin’ nicely this once.”

Your tongue swipes your lower lip before tugging it between your teeth, nodding slowly when the door suddenly creaks open. Sukuna pays it little mind until the newest furry addition to your family is softly headbutting his ankle and yelling.

“Not now, Cati,” he grumbles as though the young cat can understand him. When the little creature doesn’t let up and yells at her father for attention, Sukuna just sighs and picks her up, holding her out in front of him. “I’m tryna set a mood. You don’t make the mood better,” he explains. Her ear flicks and she wiggles her back legs, twisting her body in an effort to escape Sukuna’s grasp. “We can cuddle later,” he explains as he shuts the door with her outside it and heads to the ensuite to wash his hands.

“Brats, both o’ my girls,” he mutters to himself, turning to see you fiddling with the hem of your pencil skirt. He returns to the space beside you, picking up the blindfold and tying it expertly behind your head. He then takes the ball gag, using one hand to grab your chin as the other hovers the device over your lips. “If anything feels bad,” he says in all sincerity, staring straight through you to your soul as he even temporarily folds up the blindfold to get your full attention, “you use your foot to tap me twice, yeah?”

You nod.

“Words.”

“Yes, baby.”

“Good girl,” he approves before buckling the leather of the gag in place and replacing the blindfold. Testing your senses, or lack thereof, you twist your wrists against the rope, tilting your head in an effort to find your husband, only to whimper at the realization that you’re giving all of your trust to him right now and it’s hot.

You wait at the edge of the bed, twisting your head in search of any sign of him, but you’re unable to find him. It’s only when he turns on what might be the most generic ‘sex music’ you’ve ever heard that you get an idea of where he is. You want to tease him for his playlist choice, fight against the ball gag, maybe be the brat he keeps saying you are, but before you can, you’re yelping in surprise as your arms are carefully tied to the top of the bed, your body dragged with them.

You struggle to swallow, adjusting your lips around the gag as you aim to search for him again, but with all of your senses aside from smell completely deprived, you can only whimper.

A large hand presses against your collarbone, pushing you into the bed and allowing you to relax into the mattress and pillows. Your husband’s weight makes the bed dip as he crawls over you, testing the hold the shibari bamboo ropes have on your wrists. Satisfied with his setup, he sweetly kisses your cheek once, before shocking you as he massages your shoulders.

“Relax,” he purrs into your ear, sending a shiver straight down your spine. Beneath the blindfold, your eyes flutter shut as you turn to putty in his hands with the way his digits work the knots from your muscles. This isn’t exactly what you had in mind, but you’re pleased nonetheless. He slides his hand down the front of your chest, unbuttoning the front of your white blouse and pushing it over your shoulders to give him better access.

You sigh, melting as he straddles you in order to rub the knots from your muscles. It only takes a mere couple of minutes before you’re blissfully relaxed, eyes heavy with the exhaustion of the day as your husband takes care of you. So comfortable, you barely even notice that he unbuttons the rest of your top. He searches for the zipper on your skirt, unzipping it and slipping them down your legs.

He smirks at the sight of you in a pretty pair of black lingerie that he got you on your first wedding anniversary. Always spoiling him, even if you don’t mean to. His cock twitches in the tent of his pants, but he sets his own needs aside in favor of servicing you.

Placing himself over top of you again, he kisses down the expanse of your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your collar. He grins as you sigh in pleasure, relieved that you’re finally letting go of the shitty day.

His lips travel the length of your neck down to your collar, sucking and leaving his mark just below where the neckline of your shirt falls. Any higher and he knows you would scold him for forcing you to use makeup to cover it at work, but he toes the line anyway, sucking just a bit higher. Pleased with the marks that make up your skin and the way you’re squirming beneath him, he moves lower, palming your left breast over your bra.

His other hand slides around your back, unhooking the lingerie and letting your breasts free with a small jiggle that has him eagerly grinning.

“Mmph,” you attempt to ask him not to rip or ruin your favorite bra, but the gag does you no favors.

Moving your bra up to rest on your upper chest, Sukuna runs the flat of his tongue over your bare nipple, thrilled when you jolt hard at the suddenness of the metal of his piercing grazing your nipple. “Yeah, baby?”

Your muffled words make no sense as you attempt again to worry about something, and Sukuna’s not having it.

“Stop thinkin’. No sight, no sound, no taste, just feel me. Be a good lil’ slut for me, yeah?”

It’s hard not to listen to him when he talks in that low purr you adore so much, his hands roaming your body as he sucks your nipple between his lips. He flicks and pinches the other bud between his forefinger and thumb, allowing his teeth to graze the sensitive skin between his lips when he grins.

Every reaction is tenfold with how heightened your sense of touch feels right now, every movement by Sukuna increasing in pleasure immensely when it’s all you can focus on as everything fades away. Your head lolls back as he swirls his tongue around your perky nipple, breath coming in fast pants when he switches his attention to the other side. He nips at the perky skin, satisfaction coursing through him when you jerk and jolt, your wrists tugging on the bamboo ropes.

With a final soft kiss, his lips move down to your waist and hips, kissing every inch of your body as he quietly worships you. This may be about you, but Sukuna takes great pleasure in seeing you melt and quiver under his gentle and saccharine touch. After all, he’s not a particularly soft man, so he knows it turns you to putty when he shows another side to him.

He spreads your legs, one hand on each thigh, positioning himself between them so that you can’t close them. Leaning down, he watches the way you fiddle against your restraints, unable to stay still under his attention. He chuckles lowly, though you can barely hear it over the music, when your entire body jerks as he licks a stripe up your damp panties.

“So wet,” he groans, both of his hands roaming up your thighs to your hips and waist, before he brings them back down and pulls your panties with them, discarding them from your ankles. “So fuckin’ wet,” he repeats with a view of your bare pussy.

Unable to see him, your breathing quickens as you eagerly await the feeling of his tongue on your clit, but he only teases you as he runs his fingers through your soaking wet folds. You let out a muffled whine, jerking your hips up to meet his fingers as you chase the friction he won’t bestow upon his poor needy wife, too occupied with teasing you.

His fingers pause as you wriggle in his grip. “Ah-” he clicks his tongue, lightly slapping your pussy. “Be good for me.”

Your body jerks as you shuffle away from him, whimpering at the unexpected sensation and attempting to close your legs. Your husband pulls you back by your thighs, keeping you spread as his weight shifts, before he’s finally where you want him. He tests the waters, pleased when you tense with the small kitten lick he gives your clit. You can feel his grin against your skin when he buries his tongue in your needy cunt.

Your back arches for him and you tug against the ropes when his tongue plunges into the depths of your pussy, the metal of the ball piercing in his tongue amplifying the sensations of pleasure. He moves slowly, enjoying the taste of your slick and the way your body jolts, tenses, and twitches as his tongue explores your body.

He hums in approval when you whimper and whine, accentuated with gasps as it’s all you can manage behind the gag. You can feel drool slipping down your chin, unable to care as Sukuna has you so thoroughly bound, unable to care about anything but him.

You just barely hear him mutter “all mine”, before his tongue moves up to swirl around your clit. Your jaw clenches against the red ball gag as he sucks the sensitive bud between his lips, intense pleasure coursing through your body.

God, you needed this. You just didn’t know how badly, but the muscles in your stomach are already clenching as you feel the wave of your orgasm nearing its shore, only for Sukuna to pull back. You whine in protest, tugging hard against your binding as you yearn to pull him back down by his hair. You whimper again when you aren’t able to, lifting your lead in an effort to see him, but it’s all in vain. There’s nothing but darkness, no sounds to fill the air but yours and his, no taste but the blandness of the gag, and no smell but him to fill your nostrils.

It’s so overwhelming in all the right ways, unable to think of anything but his touch as you seek him out in whatever way you can. Work is a problem of the past as you clench your thighs.

“Thought I told ya to be good,” he hums, though his only punishment seems to be more serviceable to you, and you certainly won’t complain about that as he plunges his middle and ring finger suddenly into your soaking hole. He hums in approval as you gasp and clench your fists, nails digging into your palms with the sudden wave of pleasure that ripples through you.

He pulls them out slowly, pushing the digits back in to the hilt as you feel the cool metal of his wedding ring sink between your folds. You whimper, eyes rolling to the back of your head, attempting to whimper a “please”, but it barely comes out as anything more than “pfff”.

“I know, princess,” he hums, kissing your rib below the swell of your left breast. “Feels good, yeah?”

You manage a nod, crying out when he curls his fingers forward, your stomach clenching each time he expertly hits your G-spot. It sends you into a flurry, legs closing in around him as you chase that same wave from earlier, every muscle tensing as you swear you’re right there, only for him to pull his fingers from you.

Another whine, another tug of the ropes as you’re left hanging right on the edge of your orgasm. Again. Your stomach relaxes as the feeling passes and your chest heaves. You clench your teeth down on the ball again, growing frustrated and needy as hell. Sukuna can see it in the way your brow knits, a crease forming just above the blindfold.

You hear him chuckle again. “Somethin’ got you riled up, sweetheart?” His hand slides from your breast around your body until he’s arching your back closer to him. “Easy to forget all the bullshit when all you can focus on is me, huh?” You can hear the grin in his voice as the flat of his tongue licks a stripe up your right nipple, making your head hang back in sheer pleasure.

Your pussy pulses around nothing, desperate for attention and release. As you buck your hips up towards your husband, he presses you into the mattress with a strong hand.

“Needy girl,” he chuckles, sliding his opposite hand from your sternum to your chin. He runs his thumb along your lips, wiping the saliva from the corners of your mouth as you whine and whimper around the ball gag.

Every sense is completely occupied only by Sukuna, his touch electrifying. A shiver runs up your spine as you just barely hear the scraping of your bedside drawer open once more. The mattress shifts under his weight, before he’s leaning over you again.

His lips brush your ear for a moment, the deep rumble of his voice only making you more wet for him. “You’ll cum when I tell you, got it?”

Whining around the gag, you nod.

With a satisfied hum, the bed shifts beneath you as Sukuna positions himself between your legs again, able to feel his strong thighs seated between your own. He leans down, pressing a startlingly gentle kiss to your stomach that throws you off-kilter, only to meanly bully his middle and ring finger back into your pussy.

Your hands curl into fists as you cry out, desperate to cling to anything as you attempt to close your thighs on your husband, who keeps you spread with his free hand, while your other leg presses against his torso. Sukuna doesn’t let up his pace, hitting the gummy part of your walls with ease and sending bliss straight to your core like lightning.

His name comes out muffled as you attempt to whine for him, bucking your hips up as a knot ties in the pit of your stomach, threatening to come undone at any moment. The second your abdomen begins tensing, Sukuna’s pace slows to an agonizing halt.

“Ah- what’d I say?”

You whine, but he’s not having any of it.

“What did I say?” He repeats lowly.

It surely makes no sense with the ball still between your lips, but you repeat back to him that you’re only allowed to cum when he says. He hums in approval, one large hand leaving your thigh to caress your cheek as he tries to- literally- fuck you dumb, until you forget about your presentation altogether.

And it’s working. Well. 

Your head hangs back against the pillows, your chest heaving as you shuffle against your bindings, whining when he doesn’t pick up the pace at all, even as you obey his commands. The slow in and out of his fingers is just enough to keep you squirming and whining, but equally not enough to satiate your desire.

It’s muffled, but you just barely manage a “please,” much to Sukuna’s pleasure.

“Yeah, princess? You willin’ to beg?” He hums. The bed shifts again, and you jolt when cold steel is pressed to your clit. Gasping at the sudden chill, your body gradually relaxes as the toy is held still for a moment, only to be turned on a second later, the vibration sending a tingling sensation through your body to your limbs.

Your hips jerk and twitch with the subtle movements of the metallic toy, the continued stimulation to your clit and his fingers still slowly curling sending you closer to the edge and closer to overstimulation. You whine out, your stomach tightening as the knot is just about to unravel when he pulls away altogether.

You whine louder, pleading with him behind the gag though it all comes out as little more than mmphs.

Your legs are trembling, your walls pulsing around nothing as Sukuna teasingly flicks your nipple, pulling a cry from your pretty lips. “What’s that, princess?” He chides, tugging on the leather strap of the ball gag and pulling it back just enough to hear your whiny request.

“Please let me cum, Ryo, plea- mmph-!” Your chest heaves again as you pull on your restraints. Your movements are growing wearier the more fucked out you get, and Sukuna figures he might just have some mercy on you.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he purrs, and before you have time to process that he’s there, his tongue is on your clit, sucking hard and sending sparks straight to the knot in your abdomen. It tightens as his tongue swirls around the sensitive bundle of nerves, his teeth grazing it and causing you to jump. He keeps you right on the edge until tears of overstimulation are wetting the blindfold and you’re trembling around his fingers.

“Cum for me, baby,” he commands, latching his lips back onto your clit.

The final push across the finish line are his fingers effortlessly pinpointing your G-spot and sending you straight over the edge in an orgasm that rocks your body. Your husband slows his movements, pulling wave after wave of your climax through you and watching every subtle twitch and jerk of your body as he coaxes you into a completely blissed out state.

Your head hangs back against the pillows as he slowly pulls his mouth and fingers from your core, slipping the soaked digits between his lips. He pulls them out with a sinful pop! and a smirk that betrays his satisfaction, despite the rock-hard and throbbing issue between his own thighs.

His weight disappears for a moment as the volume of the music softens to something low and comfortable, before he’s carefully untying your wrists. No longer bound, he brings them down to your lap before focusing on the gag and blindfold. As he slips them both off and sets them aside, you blink as your eyes adjust to the low lighting of your bedroom.

“How’re you feelin’?” He grunts, gently taking your chin between his fingers and tilting your head in either direction as he searches your skin for any signs that anything might have been too tight.

Yawning, you nod. “I’m good. I needed that, thanks Kuna.”

“Mmm. I could tell,” he smirks, satisfied that the gag and blindfold he bought are to his liking. He checks your wrists over and nods to himself before focusing in on you. “Relax for the night, yeah?”

You nod again. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry I was a little snappy earlier.”

He kisses the crown of your hair in acknowledgement before making his way to the ensuite washroom. You watch as he leans over to fill the tub for you, a subtle smile making its way to your lips.

As he returns to your side, you eye the twitching tent in his pants, your gaze sliding up to meet his. “Turn off the bath,” you murmur sweetly, a feline look in your eyes that Sukuna shuts down with a scoff.

A goddamn scoff while he’s looking like that. Bewildered, you stare at him from your place on the bed.

“I got a hand, I’ll take care of myself. Now lemme take care of you,” he gruffs, slipping the sleeves of your blouse off your arms and pulling the straps of your bra along with it. He hoists you effortlessly into his arms, carrying you bridal-style to the bath and setting you on the edge to check the temperature before lowering you into it.

The water warms your skin and you feel your muscles loosen even more, but you still pout up at him. “Are you sure? You could join me, maybe-”

He says your name chidingly. “You’ve had a long day. Relax.”

Letting out a breath, you just smile at your husband. For as rough around the edges as he is, and for how frustrating and stubborn he can be, he’s a sweetheart when it comes to what matters. Pushing up on the edge of the tub, you place a sweet kiss on his cheek. “I love you,” you murmur.

You don’t expect him to reply, he rarely does. He’s a man of action, not of words, so his next movements don’t shock you.

He hums, heading to the cabinet below the sink. “Y’got any of those bath bomb things?” He asks, in his own little ‘I love you’ sort of action.

“Um, probably. Towards the back in a little bag, maybe?”

He rustles through the cabinet for a moment before pulling out a brown stone with a questioning raise of his brow as he presents it to you.

“That’s a pumice stone.”

“So… no?”

Stifling your giggle, you shake your head. “Definitely not.”

“Don’t say ‘definitely’,” he gripes sarcastically. “I don’t know any of this shit.”

You don’t hold back your giggle now, only pausing your laughter when he presents a pink bath bomb to you. You nod, though your fit of giggles doesn’t cease.

Returning to your side, your husband flicks your forehead softly in mock disdain, waiting silently by your side for the water to fill before dropping the bath bomb into the water in front of you. It fizzes softly, dyeing the water (and the side of the tub) a soft pink. With shining eyes and a weary but satisfied expression, you grip Sukuna’s wrist before he can leave.

“Thank you.”

“‘Course. Maybe now you won’t forget my kiss when you get home,” he grumbles, grumpy as ever once again.

Your jaw slacks, gaze narrowing. “Hold on. Is that what this was about?”

Sukuna freezes in your grip, regarding you with a deep scowl. “No. Just wanted you out of the kitchen to cook.”

It’s just about the saddest excuse you’ve ever heard, and while you brushed past it earlier while you were busy, it sounds even more pitiful now. “Ryo.”

“What?” He huffs.

“Come here, you big baby.”

He doesn’t move for a split second, still caught in the grasp of your hand on his wrist, but even with the frustrated scowl he’s sporting, he can’t deny you. At least, that’s what he tells himself. He’s doing this for you.

Duh.

He gets down on his knees, letting you pull him in for his hard-earned ‘welcome home’ kiss. It’s soft and sweet, filled with the very same love he’s poured into taking care of you.

Your eyes flutter open as you pull back, your fingers tracing the rough stubble poking through his skin along the tattoos lining his chin. “Better?”

He grunts, side-eyeing the wall as if it’s suddenly interesting. “Love you.”

Your eyes widen for a split second before you break into a grin, pulling him in again. Your lips brush his as you whisper your reply. “I love you, too.”

previous l&c oneshot || love & company masterlist || main masterlist

❦ a/n ; hope you enjoyed the return of my fave freaky couple! needed a break from the angst of my ongoing sukuna series [wyk], but the next chapter is about halfway done <33

❦ taglist ; OPEN. please comment here or on the masterlist to be added or removed. 18+ only, age must be visible on blog.

@toffeebrat @gojodickbig @4acoffee @billiondollarworth @qyuin

@bxnfire @jayghostedu @favvkiki

writing & format © starmapz. art © too-many-owls. dividers © adornedwithlight & cafekitsune.

[lambiconic]

a coffee shop confrontation

in case you haven't.. you should read the first four!: simon , gaz , johnny , price , the aftermath

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

The sun is low, casting warm golden light through the front windows as the café finally begins to slow down. Just a handful of customers,thirty minutes left until closing, and you behind the counter, wiping down surfaces and counting the minutes.

You haven’t seen any of your usuals today. No familiar grins, no cheeky orders or even Simon’s hard stare and silence. It’s been...quiet. Oddly so. Almost…suspiciously so.

You tried to shake off the feeling as you continued to clean behind the register. Your back to the door as you hear the bell above it chime. Once. Twice. Then a third time. And finally a fourth.

“Welcome! Give me just a second!” You call out to the customers, forcing a smile on your face. At least four people 10 minutes til closing? What ASSHOLES, do people even think to check when stores close before coming?

You stand up straight, wiping your hands on your pants as you lift your gaze and freeze.

Johnny, Gaz, Simon, and Price. All four at the same time, honestly it would feel like Christmas if they weren’t staring at you like this was an intervention. 

You blink, offering a cautious smile as you look between the men. “Uh… hi? The..usual..s?”

Johnny was the first to step forward, another bouquet of fresh flowers in hand. Despite the other three men reminding him what this trip was for he insisted he couldn’t arrive empty handed! (Definitely not so that if you feel you have to make a decision you’d pick him.)

“Hey, bonnie,” he starts, voice unusually tight. “Got a minute?”

You could feel knots in your stomach as you offered a small nod. Clearly, you’re in trouble. “...Sure?”

The men exchange looks before approaching the counter together, like they’d rehearsed this in the parking lot. Gaz clears his throat.  “Okay, so just going to get straight to it. We’ve got a bit of a situation.”

“A situation,” you repeat, crossing your arms.

“A situation.” The men parrot. 

Price folded his arms behind him, watching like this was some kind of disciplinary hearing. “It’s  come to our attention,” he said carefully, “that you’ve been... spreading the charm around.”

“Spreading..the charm.” You say carefully, fighting the urge to grin. 

Johnny leaned forward on the counter, eyes narrowed in playful accusation. “Ye been flirting, lass. With all of us.”

Simon raises an eyebrow, arms folded. “Don’t act like you don’t know. You’ve got us wrapped around your little apron string.”

They keep at it. Questions, teasing accusations, pointed smirks that blur the line between confrontation and flirtation. Simon’s practically hanging off the counter, demanding to know which wink meant something. Gaz is staring into the cup of tea you offered him, grinning because you remembered what he likes. Johnny won’t stop holding those flowers in your line of sight. And somehow, Price has taken it upon himself to help you stack chairs like he’s the assistant manager now.

And as you flip the “CLOSED” sign and start dimming the lights, one thought keeps circling in your head:

What exactly did you do wrong?

Because the reality of the situation is: you didn’t chase any of them. They came to you. One after the other. Different days. Different energy. You flirted, sure, but you flirt with half the customers that walk in!! It's called good service. You didn’t give them keys to your apartment. You didn’t propose via a note on a cup!!!

Your brows furrow as you wipe down the last table, side-eyeing them still hovering. 

Four separate men. All of them DEATHLY attractive in entirely different, annoyingly effective ways. None of them bothered to mention they were friends, coworkers, whatever the hell they are!!! In fact, it seems to you that they didn't even know they were all regulars here! And now you’re the one being interrogated like a war criminal?

You pause mid-wipe.

“I didn’t even do anything wrong,” you say aloud, mostly to yourself.

Gaz glances up from where he’s fiddling with a sugar packet. “Sorry, what was that?”

You place the rag down and turn to them, arms crossing. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Y'all are coming at me like I led a coordinated mission to seduce you all.”

Gaz opens his mouth. Closes it. Then says, “I mean... you did kind of—”

“I flirted.” You quickly interrupt, “Like a normal person! With guys who displayed interest in me FIRST.”

Johnny holds up a finger. “But ye flirted with us. Like, all of us.”

“And how was I supposed to know you were a.. group? Unit? A gaggle?” you snap, gesturing at them. “What are you, some kind of... handsome avengers?”

Simon lets out the quietest snort you've ever heard, quickly turning around to fake a cough.

Price clears his throat. “141, actually.”

Your eyes narrow. “Is that your fantasy football team or a boy band?”

“Its an elite ta—” Price quickly cuts Johnny off with a glare and an elbow. “We’re...we work together. Military.”

That information does absolutely nothing to help your case. But it does make a few things click. Obviously, you can do no wrong! But, if you and your co workers were all interested in the same guy you’d feel similarly.

Maybe not gang up on him at his job similarly but details details!

You purse your lips, pausing as you think. “So what now? You gonna make me pick?”

There’s a beat of silence. Then Gaz, leaning against the counter like this is his moment, smirks. “Only fair.”

Johnny raises the flowers slightly. “I did bring gifts.”

Price just lifts an eyebrow, as if daring you to make him wait longer. Simon stays silent…but that stare? It speaks volumes.

You shake your head, grabbing your keys and moving towards the lockers. “Oh, I’m not playing this game.”

Gaz calls after you, laughing, “You started this game!”

You shout back, “I just make coffee!”

The men stood in a loose formation near the counter, all eyes fixed on the door you disappeared behind. From the back, your muffled voice could be heard muttering curses…something about you’re just a girl and men should worship the ground you walk on?

They were silent for a long beat.

Then Gaz broke it. “We could share.”

“Come again?” “Sorry, what now?” “Mate, did you hit your head?”

Gaz shrugged, completely serious. “I mean…we could share. Or at least give her a chance to decide. Dates, time, whatever she needs.”

Johnny looked down at the bouquet, fingers tightening around the stems. “Not like this is the first time we've had... overlap.”

“And I don’t think any of us are exactly eager to back off,” Gaz added.

Simon said nothing, but the way his jaw flexed said plenty. Price met Simon’s eyes. Silent, knowing. A familiar, unspoken agreement passed between them. “We share.”

Gaz grinned. “Glad we’re all being reasonable.”

Johnny shook his head, muttering, “This is gonna get complicated.”

SImon finally spoke. “She’s worth it.”

Silence settled again as they listened to something crash in the back room. Probably a stack of coffee filters.. Were you always this much of a firecracker?

Johnny exhaled. “Gonna have to explain this real carefully.”

“Yeah,” Gaz said, nodding. “But not tonight..”

[ammonia-screw-666]

This is mostly true, however...

The content after the ? are called the query string, url parameters or query parameters. It’s a list of ampersand separated values structured like this:

?key=value&key1=value1

you can also sometimes store arrays (lists) in the params like so (it depends on what you're using to parse query params)

?key=value&key=value1&key=value2 or ?key[]=value&key[]=value1&key[]=value2.

as to what they’re used for it is often tracking but it can be any information not stored in the routing portion of the url that is required for the state of the page (e.g. youtube’s video player uses this to determine which video id to play).

How do URLs even work?

Here's a nice diagram of a url:

The scheme also known as the protocol tells your browser how to talk to the server. For a website this is either http or https. Http communicates in plaintext to the server, https is encrypted. The subdomain is kinda tricky but a good example is how tumblr shows the website versions of blogs under "accountname.tumblr.com". The subdomain is meant to be like a seperate site under the same domain however it's common practice for www to point to the main site since it means worldwide web. The domain is the name of the site the top level domain is just more routing info. You can use anything you want for the domain as long as it doesn't break the encoding of the url (no /'s no <'s no emoticons etc) however there's a much more limited list of top level domains. Port number is kind of unnecessary 99% of the time it's just more routing info but you never need that unless you're a developer. Path is where you are on the site with / being the index it's also common for the path to work similar to folders for example /blog/article would mean an article within the blog section of the site within the index. Then the params will tell the page a bit more context about what's going on (good if you want a page like a doc viewer to be generic and load the document by id without losing the document on refresh) and finally the fragment is meant to be where you are on the page it's usually an id of an element on the page so when the page loads you'll jump to that portion of the page. If you lop off everything after the ? you're likely to mess with a lot of the nice features you are accustomed to on the web and there are better tools to deal with it

But the url isn't the only data storage on the web.

the url params are good for tracking because they are shared with the link but they’re not the only tool. Websites can store info about you in a few different ways:

Their database, if you have an account they can associate any data they collect with your user including info about you that's provided (name, email, etc) all of this should be done according to their privacy policy.

Cookies, everyone has probably heard of these and they get a bad rep. Cookies are essential to the web we have today, they're little pieces of data that expire after a certain amount of time and each has some rules the developer can set about security, cross-site access, and expiration. They are essential to authentication on the web allowing for users to stay logged in on a site in a secure manner. However they also store info about users and cross-site cookies can be used to determine a users browsing habits with a series of collaborating sites.

Local storage and session storage. These are less concerning but still do store data about a user. Local storage stores that data specific to a website and it is just persistent key value storage (e.g. amazon could use local storage to store the cart of a user who isn't logged in so when they do all those items can be added to their account cart and those items with survive page reloads). Session storage stores data like local storage but it is deleted when the tab is closed.

Advertiser ID. This one has little to do with the web but your phone also has an advertising id associated with it that it sends to apps specifically for tracking purposes. I only have an Iphone so I don't know about android but on Iphone this is opt out buried somewhere in the settings.

So what tf should I do???

You don't need to hack up every url and piece it back together until it works. ClearURLs (they are free and open source <3 ) is an extension I use that removes those for you in your browser. https://linkcleaner.app/ is a website that will remove trackers for you and preserve the parts you do want.

Here's a guide on how to disable the tracking id on your phone

I also recommend using ublock origin (also free and open source) to block ads and trackers. I still don't care about cookies is an extension to automatically deal with those prompts about cookies by only accepting the necessary ones since EU regulations requires consent from the user to use tracking cookies. You can also set your browser to auto delete browsing data and/or cookies.

Use a good vpn if you can afford it I use mullvad (they're not miracle privacy apps or anything but they do obscure information about you and mullvad offers blocking on the dns level to block ads, trackers, and some other stuff this works great for blocking mobile game ads, sadly doesn't block youtube app ads). Mullvad is pretty cheap, doesn't paywall the ability to connect to any vpn server they have beyond the basic subscription, and does not collect or share your data.

Practice good security (use a password manager, etc) as well as be selective about what websites you use and where you put what information.

Also obligatory shout out to Signal for being the only messaging app I would trust to talk about sensitive information securely on.

TLDR;

Not everything after the ? is tracking you and there are lots of good tools to limit the effects of things that are and stay safe from much more than just url params. Read the So what tf should I do??? section.

Do you check for trackers and remove them before sharing links?

[kelltonic]

Defences ★彡

Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia x Reader

Description: While at the hard deck with the other daggers, Mickey - your boyfriend - get’s heavily flirted on by a stranger when you’re not around, and he is never more committed to shut someone down.

Warnings: Alcohol/Drunkenness, very light sexual harassment (fem on man). Canon-typical asshole Hangman. I love Reuben. Fanboy is a sweetheart. Other than that it’s just an established relationship and fluff. No use of y/n.

WC: 1,500

A/N: Guys if you want more Mickey (or any top gun) PLEASE request - I have been struggling for ideas lol - even if it’s just another version of an already made fanfiction with a different character, or a headcanons prompt!! - ALSO for anyone who read my prev a/n on my other fanboy ff, I GOT 100% ON MY ENGLISH EXAM!!! I actually started tweaking out (it was creative writing). We don't talk about my other exams though.

“Oh come on!” Mickey groaned while throwing his arms in the air, physically complaining over the miss he just hit in pool. “The tables gotta be uneven or something.” He said, mostly jokingly.

"Don't be bitter that I'm just better." Reuben shrugged, flashing a cocky smile to tease his best friend with.

After a long day of flying, most of the squadron retired to the most familiar place on base, the Hard Deck. A comforting yet bustling bar that welcomed naval aviators with open arms.

"Now that's funny-" Fanboy was about to start, but was quickly cut off by that oh so familiar southern drawl.

"Boys, boys, let me show you how a real man shoots." Hangman mocked, condescendingly snatching the pool cue out of Fanboy's hands while simultaneously shooting a wink to one of the many attractive women scattered around the bar. Payback's face formed a frustrated expression as he leaned back to watch what Hangman would do. Hangman did this more than anyone would like. Preferably, he'd never interrupt the games for some silly flirting exercise, but something about Jake couldn't live without the thrill of the tease.

Fanboy was about the opposite, despite what his callsign may allude. Sure, before he met you, he would throw around a few pick up lines and enjoy the spotlight whenever a pretty girl noticed him. But now? He is duller than a rock if someone tries to get a piece of him. You're his favourite person in the entire world, and he makes sure you know it - as long as you promise not to tell Reuben. He can't have another passive-aggressive flight because Reuben decided to teach him how significant of a role he plays in Mickey's life. He would rather jump out of his plane mid flight than let you think you meant anything less to him.

So when the girl Hangman had been flirting with had finally approached him with her friends who had been giggling like hyenas at the squadron the entire night, he just went to get another round.

He looked back from the bar to see the girls clinging to various daggers while waiting for the drinks, chuckling at the sight of Reuben getting surrounded. He didn't think anything of it until one of them separated and began approaching him.

But he didn't want to assume anything, she may just be coming to do the same thing as him.

"Hey handsome." She giggled, leaning against the bar next to Fanboy. Welp, there goes the lack of assumption.

"Hi." He responded bluntly, giving a brief polite yet not hinting smile. All that warranted was a giggly and flirtatious response.

"Come here often?" She said, clearly a little tipsy if not anything further. She scooted closer to him, practically brushing him. As much as he wanted to make space between him, the bar was particularly crowded and he honestly didn't want to bother the aviator directly behind him.

"Yeah a bit, most of us frequent this bar the most." He said with a dry sigh, averting eye contact. He couldn't help but wish Penny sped up with the drinks, but he would never in any lifetime say that to her and face her (and Maverick's) wrath.

"Come on pretty boy, loosen up." She giggled while gripping his arm, trying to push their bodies flush together.

"Okay no thank you." He quickly spoke, lightly pushing her away. He was uncomfortable, and couldn't help but feel guilty despite the fact he had done nothing wrong. "I have a girlfriend." He stated, easily plying her hand off his arm.

"Is she here?" She said while staring into his eyes playfully, unbothered by the physical signs he was presenting.

"No?" He said, puzzled by her persistence.

"Then she doesn't have to know." She responded while trying to close the distance again.

"Here ya go." Penny interrupted with a small smile, placing a tray of various alcoholic beverages in front of them before dashing off to another patron. all Mickey could think was 'oh thank goodness' as Penny saved him from this uncomfortable and awkward encounter.

He grabbed the drink tray and flashed the girl a small, awkward smile as he sped walk to the full group again.

"Ayy!!" Reuben and various others bellowed, grateful to see another wave of drinks. "Our saviour." He joked, taking a beer.

"On land and sky." Mickey responded, placing the tray down while grabbing himself a beer. It only took a few awkward shuffles from Mickey for Reuben to detect something was off, despite his current state.

"You good?" He asked with a smile, tilting his head as he carefully watched Mickey's reaction.

"Yeah, yeah, I just feel... dirty." Mickey murmured, the guilt of another woman's attraction to him weighing on him like an elephant.

"Dirty? Or like.. dirty." Reuben repeated, shifting from a playful to serious tone.

"Dirty." Mickey echoed, reaching for his phone in his back pocket. "...One of the girls was flirting with me. Hard." He elaborated.

"Since when was that a bad thing?" Reuben scoffed, before a wave of realisation hit him. "Ohhh... right, okay." A neutral tone flowing through his voice. It only took a second for a puzzled expression to take over his face. Mickey had to admit one thing, Reuben was one of the most expressive people he's ever met.

"So... why do you feel bad?" He mocked, a slight laugh leaving his mouth. "You didn't flirt back.. right?" Reuben questioned. He knew how utterly enamoured Mickey was with you, he had to get his callsign from somewhere. But he couldn't help but seek clarification.

"No!" Mickey swiftly reacted after taking a gulp of his beer, a frankly offended expression covering his face.

"...." Reuben just stared, a little dumbfounded at Mickey's loyalty policies. Despite a hint of respect also developing, he couldn't help but laugh at Mickey's commitment to you. And his standards for what counts as something he should feel guilty for or not. However, Reuben was also observant. Even if he wasn't, it would still be easy to tell how sad the thought of someone else flirting with Mickey made him. Someone other than you. But his trance was interrupted by an exaggerated sigh.

"Okay, look. I'm only ever going to say this once, so listen up." Reuben began, placing his beer down as he forced eye contact with Mickey. Landing a hand on his shoulder, he groaned as he realised what he was about to say and the possibility of Mickey never letting him live it down. "You're attractive. Really damn hot, man. Both physically and personality wise. You have good energy and people are naturally drawn to your confidence and kindness. So you're gonna have to get used to the idea of people, women included, approaching you and flirting." Reuben stated, more teaching than hyping.

Mickey was conflicted between smiling and teasing Reuben. "Come on man, that's the nicest thing you've said to me." He said with a chuckle as his shoulders dropped and his gave Reuben a quick hug before he potentially got bitch slapped by him.

"Okay off." Reuben scolded, pushing Mickey off of him with a forced groan.

"...I'm still gonna call her though." Mickey quickly ushered while typing in your contact on his phone, which just elicited a 'why do I even try' motion from Reuben as he walked away.

Your phone rang a couple times before you got the chance to pick it up, busy with an email.

"Hello?" you spoke seriously, forgetting to check the caller ID.

"Babe!!" Mickey spoke, excited to hear your voice. He always sounded ecstatic whenever you two spoke.

"Hey baby, what's up?" You spoke warmly, a complete shift from your initial greeting.

"I just wanted to tell you I love you more than anything in the entire world. Even flying." Mickey spoke quickly, not for a lack of authenticity.

"I love you too... why are you calling to tell me this?" You said with a small chuckle, it wasn't uncommon for Mickey to randomly declare his love, especially over the phone due to distance. It was however rare for him to do it at this late hour.

"Some girl was flirting with me. BUT! I didn't at all entertain it for a second." Mickey emphasised, he was only slightly tipsy but the honesty made you giggle. You would never in a million years have to worry about his loyalty, and this is one of the reasons.

"Well I appreciate that." You responded softly, the yearning for his presence briefly satiated by his voice. All you could hear on the other end of the line was a low giggle, as far as you could tell he could very well be twirling his (non-existent) hair and kicking his feet.

"I miss you sweetie." You whispered with a gentle desire from the heart.

"I do too, but you'll never guess what Reuben said to me." Mickey said with a chuckle, you could practically hear his smile, and his longing.

A/N: Bit of a corny ending but I didn't know what else to do lmao.

Started: 12:00am Sunday 22nd of June Ended: 8:00pm Thursday 26th of June

[vivispost]

cw: MDNI psuedo-cest, refers to Caleb as "gege", use of "meimei, dubcon, a/b/o, degration, Caleb is a pervert and manipulative, MDNI

Big stepbrother!caleb who always has to have himself restrained during his rutt (⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄‸o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝).. he can't risk hurting his poor little sister with his huge cock :(! He'll never forget his first rutt and how he nearly ravaged you whole before gran noticed and restrained him (ll๐ ₃ ๐)! With every passing rutt Caleb gets more and more unhinged, begging for his sweet little sister to let him out as he cries your name deep into the night (っ◞‸◟c).

"Please meimei, you have to help me." he whines out, loud enough for you to hear from a few doors down. With Gran gone for the next few days, Caleb just couldn't help himself. Gran told you very clearly, you can NOT under any circumstances let your big brother out. You should listen to her right? She always knows best but his whines and cries just continue on and on for hours! You just can't bear hearing your big brother cry any longer (৹ᵒ̴̶̷᷄﹏ᵒ̴̶̷᷅৹). You had to help him. Maybe just you being there will be enough to calm him down! you won't let him out and Gran won't ever have to know ๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑.

You're heart raced as you stepped out of your room, light footsteps trailing along the dark hallway making your way to his room. His whines growing more and more pathetic as you neared the room.

"Meimei, please."

"I need you, you won't leave me here all alone right?"

"Just one look, please, help your gege out."

"I won't hurt you this time, I promise."

You stopped at his bedroom door, a sliver of light shining through the slightly ajar door catching your attention. Bringing your eyes closer to the crack your heart skips. Seeing your gege restrained with chains linking to the harness along his body, a makeshift cage stopping him from being completely let out. His racing eyes met yours through the crack, desperation and something far more primal flooded his eyes.

You pushed through the door, making the image of your brother clear. A sheen layer of sweat coated his skin completely as his chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. Your heart pounded in your chest at the scene. You felt afraid. Your clammy hands instinctively gripped onto the hem of your nightgown as you swallowed a lump in your throat.

A guttural groan errupted from Caleb's throat as his eyes scanned your figure. His chest rising and falling at a steadier pace to not scare you away. He knew his little sister, he knew that startled look in your eyes as you gazed at him. He had to calm down if he wanted to get what he needed so badly.

"y-you came." he strained through a sigh, relief etched on his face. Reaching his chained hands towards the gate separating you both. Through his desperation he managed to let an almost pained smile slip across his face. "I'm so happy you came meimei.. help me out yeah?"

You nervously fiddled with your hands as your eyes fell to the ground. Help him out how? Now that you're here your starting to feel the weight of the move you decided to pull. You knew you weren't supposed to even be in here. Gran would kill you if she found out.. but your gege just looked so pathetic, chained and restrained behind a makeshift cage, eyebrows scrunched up as he held his bottom lip in between his teeth. It's not his fault anyway, he just couldn't control himself back then. At least that's what he told you.

"Please meimei just open the gate, you won't even have to remove the chains I just.. I just need some relief." He whined as his pitiful gaze searched for yours. You quickly averted your eyes as you bit your lip in contemplation. You really shouldn't...

"Please sweetie, look at me"

Your eyes made their way back towards his own crazed ones.

"Gege needs you, I won't touch you I promise.. I'm just.. just feeling so claustrophobic 'n here.." his hand trailed up to his collar slightly tugging at it as his pained look reached your own. You let out a breath as you pursed your lips. You had no reason not to trust your gege anyway, he's always tooken care of you and helped you out of trouble. You can return the favor by helping him out this time.. gran won't know.

You finally budged from your spot at the doorway, making your way towards Caleb. His eyes slightly widening as he saw you approaching. Almost drooling at the sight of his sweet sister finally giving him what he wants.

Your trembling hands reached for the lock attached to the gate, cautiously inserting the key and listening for the final click. Before you could even process anything you were already on the ground as a heavy force practically slammed you into the wooden flooring.

Your eyes widened in fear as they searched your geges face. "G-gege-" you whimpered out as his hands begn to fondle you through your gown, his weight on top of you keeping you still.

Caleb groaned before his frenzied eyes stared into your own, a sick smile spreading across his face. "What a stupid girl." he growled out as he roughly lifted your gown towards your shoulders revealing nothing but your white panties. "Fuck- I should've known a little slut like you would sleep practically naked" his hands roughly groped your breasts as he harshly kissed and licked along your neck, his hips grinding against your heat as you whimpered. "Y-you said you wouldn't-". You winced as you felt a harsh bite on your neck.

"Did you really believe that?" he licked along the forming bruise "If I knew you were this stupid I would've done this a long time ago" he grunted as he made his way to your breast roughly latching onto the bud as his hard on continued to grind on your clothed cunt. His teeth nipping you before sucking roughly in an aching pattern before finally popping off and roughly flipping you along your stomach. Tears began to form in your eyes at your gege's rough actions and hurtful words. "P-please gege" you whimpered out through your tears.

"Look at you." he grinned as his big hands roughly lift your bottom up effectively holding you in an ideal position to fuck into you from behind. Practically drooling at the sight of your leaking cunt behind the fabric of your panties. With a groan he shoved his face behind you, sloppily licking stripes along your clothed folds before shoving them to the side. A guttural moan left his lips at the sight of your bare pussy in front of him. He's dreamt of this for as long as he can remember, wanting nothing more than his sweets sisters cunt during his worst rutts. Now it's finally his and no one can stop him.

"g-gege! w-wait!" you whined out as you felt his harsh breath along your heat, planting kisses along your folds before sucking and licking at an unbearable pace. Hot tears continued running down your face as he ignored you while all you could do was moan out at the new sensation. Your body found itself reaching for his touch as you began rutting along his tongue, the tight feeling in your lower abdomen growing more and more with every lick as your hips began moving on their own before Caleb abruptly pulled away leaving you begging for his touch.

"Fuck- can't let you cum anywhere but on my dick." he grunted before all you could hear was the sound of him hurriedly pulling his pants down finally letting his aching cock free. You couldn't even catch a look at it behind you before he drove in you with full force, leaving you no time to adjust as your Gege roughly fucked into your puffy folds leaving you a moaning mess.

"Taking it 'so good just f'me -fuck" Caleb moaned out as he continued drilling his thick cock into you with no remorse as you continued becoming a mess under him. His rough hands gripping onto your hips as you cried from the force. "Can't even get a word out can you" he hissed out. "Who would've known you'd be such a cockslut?" He said with a grin.

All you could do was take it as your gege continued slurring hurtful words at you as the lewd sounds of skin slapping on skin filled the room, your juices making it effortless for him to glide through.

His pace quickened as he continued, the view of you bent before him with your face pushed into the ground drenched in tears, your needy cunt pushing against his thrusts covering him in your slick. He couldn't hold back his moan. Fuck you were just so perfect. The way your cunt gripped his dick with every thrust, your pathetic moans resounding throught the room, your face messy with the tears that he caused. He felt like he was in a dream and before he knew it he finally let go and released, biting his lip at the raunchy image of your shared juices coating his dick as he continued sloppily grinding into you.

Your pussy aching with overstimulation left you feeling weak as his hands held their grip along your waist, keeping a steady pace before finally pulling out. You finally let your sore body fall onto the ground, the cool floor make contact with your simmering skin. Suddenly his harsh hands flipped you onto your back before hooking beneath your thighs and roughly pulling towards him once more.

Your wide eyes looked into his own as he grinned at you. "Did you really think that was it? You really are just a stupid girl aren't you."

❥𓂃𓏧 A/N: I want my gege ◔̯◔

[maocin]

To my understanding this is a bit of a "you'll know it when you see it" but I think one could broadly generalize the deer skull Christian god stuff and pomegranate stuff as separate instances of the same thing.

Deer skull Christian god is when white Americans living on razed land and immersed in hegemonic Christian culture look into a new-growth forest and start talking about connecting to Nature and to the Old Gods. It's "pagans" who are just putting a fresh coat of mythological paint on the protestant values their grandparents had. It's the modern version of those hudson river valley school painters. You might see what I'm talking about in the context of landscape painting, how there's either "pretty tree (I like to paint trees)" or "pretty tree (granted thus to mankind by the LORD our God, and the God of our fathers, and of Isaac, and of Abraham, and of Jacob)". Normally the difference is the lighting.

Pomegranate poetry is all those poems you see about how love is like a pomegranate because it stains your hands and you want to eat the other person and it's very difficult but very rewarding. This one if you Google you will find hundreds of examples very quickly. It was a good metaphor the first time it was written, I'm sure, but when it's the ten thousandth poem, it starts to be annoying. Melodramatic instead of evocative.

The broad category of this Thing that's being complained about is, I _think_, the tendency of unskilled, uncurious, or uninteresting writers to return to popular figurative language instead of being inspired to write their own, leading to tons of overwrought writing that falls flat due to the lack of thought, intent, and depth. Combine that with the Tumblr Tone (tm) that I'm sure you have some familiarity with and you get this angsty style of writing that's just tossing figurative language out there, often stuff that the writer has absolutely no connection to.

This is all thoughts though. I can try to find some posts of the original thing to rather than posts mocking it, but this sort of stuff is dying out now that people are so sick of it. That, or the current crop of these writers has gotten mature enough to not post their slop and we'll get some different boring trite motifs when the next ones come along. Really it should be always remembered that I don't know anything about anything and am just guessing.

I think it's important to occasionally make fun of Deer Skull Christian God Pomegranate type writing for the exact same reason that you have to actually write that sort of thing. You have to develop an original voice as an author and that will inevitably take you through the Faux Gothic Melodrama Swamps.

[phantasm-ae]

I want my boy Gaz some recognition 😭😭😭😭

Maybe the team will get to meet her🤨🤨🤨🤨

(okay but like imagine... Gaz having a wife similar to Price's and Ghost's wife like she is all sweet, loving, and caring... And then boom! She's Carrying Gaz like it's nothing! Like she has that Texas Cottage core vibe (is that even a thing?) like girl is sunshine and strength)

omg omg omg... im so sorry it took so long anon RAAAA. But! I have an ideaa hehehhe. Soo yk Rick and Morty?? Hehehhe well…

cw: chaotic afab reader x kyle ‘gaz’ garrick, slightly mad scientist afab reader, fluff

HEADCANON: The team meets Gaz’s bird. And well…. She was probably more than they’d expected

PAIRING: Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x afab reader

Kyle has been dating her for months.

Wildly intelligent and hilariously blunt. Slightly feral lass who wears chaos like perfume and can talk about planetary physics and frogs in the same breath.

The kind who corrects documentaries mid-sentence, and once told Kyle after snooping through his documents, about how his missile trajectory calculations were “embarrassingly phallic,” and sincerely meant it.

And Kyle? Well... He’s absolutely gone for her.

Has been since day one when she marched up to him after attending a childhood friend’s lecture, shoved a melting popsicle in his hand, and said:

"If you had to save the world with only one mathematical constant, which one would you choose? Don’t think — answer!"

Caught between her unblinking stare and a rapidly dripping sticky mango mixture near his cargos, Kyle had only blinked twice and mumbled, “...Pi?”

“Coward,” she said, then grinned like she’d just met her new favorite problem.

That was it. Done. Hooked. Doomed, even.

And well Kyle?

Kyle, awestruck, bemused, and surprised — fingers and wrist sticky with artificial sugar and syrup. The gossamer and sweet liquid staining his newly acquired cargos — could only smile back and nod almost knowingly.

The 141 meet her months later though, during one of those rare in-between missions when there's time for drinks and dinner and recharging before the next chaos hits. But here he was. Fucking sweating and itching through and through.

Well it wasn’t like he never expected all their paths to cross eventually. He always knew she’d meet them. Meet this.

Introduce herself to this part of his life soon enough and not as an accessory or a passing visitor. But as something inevitable. Like gravity. Like sunrise. Something meant to be embedded into every bit of narrative she could sew herself into.

Because if Kyle was ever honest, she knew she wasn’t the kind of person you could keep in a separate drawer. No, never. Would never even think of ever shucking her away on some pent up flat or four-cornered bedroom. Pretty little bird kept and fed well with jewels and soft perches? No. That wasn’t her.

That was never going to be her.

Never.

She was storm and thesis, claws and questions, and Kyle -- sweet, brilliant Kyle -- knew it from the moment she walked into his life like a living paradox, equal parts catastrophe and charm. She didn’t visit chapters. She rewrote them. Annotated margins. Circled themes. Demanded footnotes.

So yes, he always knew.

She overflows. Gushes. Deluged. Trickles sweetly and syrupy into the vestiges of the gloomy part of his existence. Will spill into everything and into him. And Kyle, hopelessly, stupidly gone for her, will never really try to stop it.

So if he was being honest, some part of him had always imagined this moment -- her walking into the same room as the lads, sharp-tongued and starlit, leaving a trail of sparks in her wake. Not if. But more on when.

And now it was when.

But Christ was he still bloody nervous, aye?

Collar too hot and cap a bit too tight on his forehead, palms vaguely clammy like he was back in basic waiting to be called for his first ever inspection all over again. Which was stupid, because this wasn’t a mission. Wasn’t even a bloody op.

It was just.... her -- meeting the rest of his team.

And yet, Kyle was still internally combusting like she was a ticking biochemical warhead that could either charm the lads or annihilate the entirety of Price's backyard.

He glanced sideways at the entrance. No sign of her yet. Okay. Okay. That was fine.

Soap, across from him, was already two pints in and mid-rant about the correct ranking of fast food crisps, while Ghost sat with his arms crossed and offered the occasional low grunt of disagreement. Slow blinking in boredom and lazying around near some of Mrs. Price's potted plants.

Price nursed a whiskey like it was an old grudge and pretended not to be listening, albeit trying to stifle the slight quirk of his lip every time Soap seemed to look even more chauved and disgruntled at Ghost's lack of interest at the importance of learning the difference between Cheese-flavored crisps and barbecued ones. The younger bloke almost fuming at the disinterested and blased remarks he received from his superior. Snobbish over Ghost not knowing the based characteristics on Vinegar vs Vinegar-coated.

“She’s gonna love you lot,” Kyle muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

“Still don’t get why you’re sweatin’ bullets, mate,” Price replies after sidling up next to Gaz after Soap started yelling at Ghost over the massive and weighty bastard choosing Walkers over Pringles, shaking his head with an amused grin. “You said she’s a wee genius, yeah? She'll be fine aye?"

“She's just.... odd” Kyle said after swallowing

Price’s eyebrows drooped a bit reassuringly. Boonie hat tilted, expression something between humoured and understanding -- the same look he gives rookies before a live op. “Odd’s never been a problem with us, son. You seen Soap’s sock drawer?”

“Ah sort them by how often I wear ‘em, obviously” Soap called out from the booth, clearly listening now after a huff. Stomping back to grab another pint. “It’s practical warfare.”

“Freak behaviour,” Ghost muttered behind his own drink.

Kyle exhaled a nervous laugh, glancing again at the door. “I just mean… she’s different. Proper brilliant, but she says things like ‘Diogenes walked so Newton could run,’ and she means it. Like, genuinely. She once argued with Siri and won.”

“She sounds like a bloody delight,” Price replied dryly, then gave him a nudge with his elbow. “C’mon. You think any of us are normal?”

Kyle looked down at his hands, a little calloused, a little sweaty. “She just means a lot. Don’t want her thinkin’ she’s gotta tone herself down for anyone. She deserves better than that”

Price’s voice lowered, sincere. “Then don’t let her. The team’ll love her for exactly who she is. Just like you already do.”

Kyle was about to respond -- probably with something sarcastic and choked-up -- when the door creaked open.

She walks through the gate carrying a box labeled “Absolutely Not Explosives (Maybe Snacks)”, wearing a bright-green button down with her usual tenured slacks and folded manila envelopes tucked in one pocket. Windblown, wide-eyed, her glasses sliding down her nose, and grinning like she just stepped out of a fever dream and into someone else’s backyard. Armed and saddled with that same barefoot-in-a-storm kind of confidence that had ruined him from day one.

“Hi!” she calls out.

And it’s not just a greeting -- it’s an announcement. A declaration of entry. Like Archimedes, entropy, and the snack box had all been waiting for this exact moment to collide.

Kyle’s heart stuttered once, then promptly gave up any hope of ever functioning normally again.

She beelined for him as usual like a woman on a mission, but halfway there.... she noticed the fire pit --

-- specifically, the way it was constructed.

Oh shit, not again.

She veered without hesitation, knelt next to it, squinting like she was analyzing a nuclear core, and muttered, “Someone built this using a Fibonacci spiral as emotional support.”

“Fuck's Fibonacci?”, Soap whispered loudly, nudging Ghost with his elbow. “This Gaz's lass then, aye?”

Ghost gave her a slow once-over. Head tilting a bit at her mismatched flats and patched pockets. “Bird looks like she drinks Red Bull and argues with God.”

Before Kyle could respond -- or run, depending on the emotional weather -- she reaches into the sleeve of her coat and yanks out a... suspicious-looking metal rod.

No one spoke.

Then -- click -- a blade folded out. But not like a normal blade. No, this looked like a half-melted Swiss Army knife made love to a soldering iron. Wires dangling at the bits of shorn metal. Clinking and sinewy it was. A button at the side of the make-shift handle blinking blue rapidly.

Yep. Something definitely hissed, Price concludes as he minutely flinches for the first time at the sight of something so foreign and obtuse near his wife's petunias.

Ghost tensed, gaze locked like he was trying to identify what kind of improvised weapon she’d just birthed into existence, while Soap -- daft numpty -- only leaned forward in fascination.

“What the fuck is that?” Price asked, calm but also not calm, the way a father might ask why there’s a raccoon in the dishwasher.

She didn’t look up. “Thermodynamic calibrator-slash-ultralight torch. Built it from scrap and spite. Give me a sec.”

Then she jammed it into the soil like she was performing surgery on the lawn. A sharp hum buzzed through the air. One of the lawn lights flickered. She squinted at the fire pit, adjusted a dial, then jammed the device again into the soil near the base. The fire pit roared to life, its flame suddenly tall and balanced, licking upward in a soft golden spiral. It was mesmerizing, a near-perfect bloom of heat and symmetry.

The men collectively leaned back.

“Hell's bells” Soap muttered.

She stood, smacked some dirt off her knees, and grinned with both pride and a worrying amount of glee. “There,” she said, adjusting a final dial before stepping back. “Now it distributes heat evenly -- low flicker rate, too, in case anyone here’s prone to headaches or, you know… prefers not to feel like they’re being interrogated by the sun.”

Her tone was light, but her eyes flicked briefly toward Ghost -- casual, gentle, like it was just an offhand observation. But Kyle caught it. The way she noticed things most didn’t. The way she chose to.

Soap leaned back slowly, a grin now stretching across his face like a man watching the birth of a new religion.

“I like her", Soap grinned.

Kyle was already up on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, love… you gonna say hi properly, or you planning to interrogate more of the landscaping?”

She stood up straighter now, poised and readied, like nothing was odd once more, turning with an inviting and warmy grin, holding the box up proudly with a small and enthusiastic wave. Almost like she didn't just reconstruct a fire pit with a weaponized calculator and a god complex. “Hi! Sorry, got distracted. The heat ratios were offensive. Also, I brought snacks!”

She shook the box once for emphasis. It jangled. The sound was deeply suspicious.

Ghost, once relaxed and a bit.... touched alarmed that someone picked up on his discomfort with flickering light without him saying a word, now sat a little straighter at that. Eyes sharp once again. Cautious and perched. Shoulders just barely tensed under his hoodie as something absolutely squeaked when she juggled the looming cardboard in her wry hands repeatedly.

Price side-eyed the box like it had a timer.

Soap was still smiling like he’d just found a new hobby. Gait shifting to approach her closer. Reading the “Absolutely Not Explosives" label aloud. “Tha's either a bloody threat or a right good promise.”

“Depends on who opens it,” she replied cheerfully, then smiled open and inviting, adjusting her grip to shake Soap's outstretched palm. Shoving the box right after to Kyle's chest. Price humming in amusement at the sight 'oof' Kyle breathes at the weight and mounty thing now in his grasp. A misguided care package from a mad scientist at that. He was sure of it.

Making him stagger a step back, having to catch it again with both hands as it tilted precariously to one side. Something clinked. Something else sloshed. Something definitely clicked.

Price hummed, one brow rising as he took another sip of whiskey. “She always gift-wrap danger?”

“Only on the holidays,” Kyle muttered, staring down at the box like it was about to start reciting code.

Meanwhile, she was already gripping Soap’s hand with a firm shake, her grin bright, chaotic energy radiating off her like a short-circuited sunbeam.

At his sergeant's words, Price shakes his head in hilarity and interest, a slight lift from his beard for a surprised smile before stepping forward himself and offering his own hand. “You must be the chaos professor.”

She blinked at his hand at that, his words making her pause but grin proudly, grasping his sinewy fingers firmly as well in return. “I’m not a professor. Yet. But I am a Doctor of Applied Theoretical Physics, with a minor in Quantum Physics”

“You’ll fit right in,” he replied, clearly entertained. “I’m John.”

“Captain John Price,” she said then, squinting. Almost like something just pieced itself together in her head. A corner of her glasses slightly blinking green and blue. However, light and subtle -- just a shimmer beneath the lens as if scanning data only she could see.

She tilted her head. “Ohhh. You’re the John Price. Task Force 141. SAS. Operation Kingfisher, the oil rig interception, three confirmed HVTs neutralized in twenty-one minutes. That John.”

Price raised a brow, his grip still firm in her handshake. “That’s a very specific résumé you’re rattling off.”

She grinned, shrugging. “I like to research my boyfriend’s coworkers. Helps me know what kind of cookies to bake and what kinds of extraction plans to draft in case things go horribly wrong. And can I just say for the record, that you truly have a ridiculously symmetrical face.”

Price chuckled low in his throat, that rare and gravelly sound of a man both flattered and bewildered. “Symmetrical, huh?”

She nodded, eyes narrowed with faux scrutiny. “Yep. It’s giving ‘military recruitment poster.’ Like someone made you in a lab to sell patriotism and protein powder.”

Soap let out a loud bark of laughter. “Och, she's clocked you dead-on, Cap"

Kyle was standing off to the side now, box still in his arms, looking like he was debating whether to set it down gently or hurl it into the bushes before something in it decided to hatch. “Please don’t feed her ego,” he called over. “It’s already got its own gravitational field.”

She shot him a wink at his response. “That’s rich coming from the man who cried at my thesis defense.”

“That’s -- I had a cold,” Kyle protested, cheeks already pinking.

“She presented using live fluid simulations and built a metaphor about dark energy and love,” he added for the others, like that would somehow make it less devastating.

Ghost muttered into his glass, “Startin' to think you didn’t pull her… bird drafted you.”

“She did,” Kyle said, deadpan. “I was conscripted.”

Price shook his head, that amused smile now tugging higher under his beard. “Well, Doc, welcome to the madness.”

She glanced at the squad -- all casually observing her like she was both a field report and an open flame -- and clapped her hands once, bright and fearless.

“Excellent,” she said. “Then I’ll make tea after this. Also, about that fire pit--”

Soap looked delighted. “Aye, that wee disaster? That wis me, cheers.”

She gave him a mock-somber nod. Almost cringing at Soap's enthusiasm as if it physically hurt her to try and school someone for something pointless and small at the end of the day. “I admire the conviction, Johnny. But the stones.... were holding a grudge.”

Ghost tilted his head. “Fuck do stones hold a grudge for?”

She looked at him over her glasses. “Vibrations. Like people. Only less dramatic.”

Soap leaned over to Price, muttering, “This one’s a unit. A proper mad scientist.”

Price snorted. “And you love it.”

“You know I do.”

Finally, Kyle placed the suspicious box on the table with the care of someone setting down a baby rattlesnake. “Alright, so are we opening this or performing a ritual?”

She lit up. “Both.”

Something beeped.

Ghost stiffened.

Soap leaned closer.

Price calmly took another sip of his whiskey like he was very used to seeing strange things unfold in his garden.

And Kyle?

He just grinned, wide and resigned, as she started peeling back the tape with the flair of someone revealing buried treasure. Because this was her. All of her.

Spilling and overflowing for sure. All light, wit, and kinetic mess. Sharp edges wrapped in cellophane, brilliance hidden beneath layers of glitter and chaos and a worrying understanding of black-market circuit boards. Solar flare in the shape of his other half is what it is.

But somehow. Bloody somehow.

Still. Will. And is --

-- utterly Kyle's.

“Alright,” she said brightly, flipping the box open now with a flourish, “Let’s play snack roulette!”

Revealing the inside of the malty cardboard now filled with neatly organized rows of tiny vacuum-sealed parcels, each labelled with suspicious enthusiasm:

Nutritionally Suspicious Brownies

Possibly Radioactive Jam -- Only Kyle's

Chili Lemon Cry-Biscuits

Emotionally Unstable Muffins

Entropy Taffy

Soap leaned in with glee. “Christ, ye name yer snacks like they’ve got emotional issues”

“They kind of are,” she replied, plucking out the Cry-Biscuits and casually tossing one to Ghost, who caught it one-handed with all the enthusiasm of a man expecting to be poisoned. He sniffed it once, then gave her a look.

“Why’s it humming.”

“Because it’s fresh,” she said simply, then added, “And also maybe reacting to trace particles in the air. The spice is… volatile.”

Ghost stared. “You trying to kill us bird?”

“If I was, you'd already be carbon scoring,” she chirped.

Soap popped one of the taffies into his mouth with a crunch. Immediately blinked. “Holy shite. I can taste colors!”

masterlist

[erosmutt]

don’t know if this is considered disgusting butttt brother!sam showering with lil sis and can’t stop trying to feel her up

YESSSSS!!! YESSSSSSSSSSS!!! ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTING!!!

⠀⠀⠀⠀♰⠀ 𓈒 ⠀bigbro!sam x lilsis!reader⠀ ﾉ⠀tip jar! commissions are open! <3

"you don't have to keep coming in here, you know. you're big enough to shower on your own." sam tells you, watching as you come into the shower and close the frosted glass door behind yourself, humming like this is the most normal thing in the world. well, it is, but over the years, sam has begun to value his privacy, the privacy that you consistently encroach on with your sweet voice and unending curiosity.

you shrug, grabbing your floral scented wash off the rack. you involuntarily give him a twirl as you spin in a circle to get your entire body wet, something you've always done that amuses sam to no end. "well, i like to shower with you, sammy," you declare, now facing away from him. his gaze travels down the expanse of your back to your ass, to the back of your thighs and back up to the back of your head. he rests a hand on your shoulder, stepping close so his chest is touching your back. "yeah, i know." he mutters.

while you both lather yourselves separately, sam can't help but get touchy. his hands come to rest on your hips, pulling you back against him fully. "you do this on purpose, i know you do," he murmurs quietly as he leans over you, his necklace tickling you. "you're a little..." "sam," you whine, cutting him off. "i'm not! i can't just shower with my big brother?" you pout, and he knows you're pouting, even though he can't see it. he stares down at the floor in thought before pulling away.

the routine continues. you wash your hair, he checks you out. as you lather your hair, his hand finds your side, running up and teasing the side of your breast. your breath hitches, but you don't stop him. taking your silence as an invitation, his hand rests on the whole thing and gives it a squeeze, making you moan softly. "sammy," his already hard cock teases your back. he swallows, pausing momentarily before continuing his movements, tweaking your nipple. "yeah?"

"more," you moan, arching up against his hand. he steps forward, other hand coming to grope your other breast, a groan leaving him. his cock nestles against your ass and he ruts his hips forward for friction, hands kneading your tits hungrily, fingers tweaking your nipples a bit harder than intended. "fuck," he breathes against your neck, teasing your sensitive skin.

just then, the sound of your mother's voice comes through the door, muffled and barely heard over the shower. "sam! hurry up, your friends are here!" then retreating footsteps. he looks down at you and curses angrily before pulling away, giving himself a quick rinse and shoving away, getting out of the shower and leaving you disoriented and needy.

♱ @102hannah ⋆ @addictedtohobi ⋆ @brooklynb8by ⋆ @darthrenswiftie ⋆ @speaknow-sw ⋆ @judasprieist ⋆ @lacebird ⋆ @schizo-toddhoward ♱ @zapernz ⋆ @jediavengers ⋆ @enchant5d ⋆ @trippyhippywitch ⋆ @valloos ⋆ @piastricentric ⋆ @gallerygourmet ⋆ @anakinsbbgirl ⋆ @ilovekmchenzie ⋆ @s1ck-skv1l ⋆ @offthethirlwall ⋆ @soleil825 ♱ @starlmbed ⋆ @slutforfinnickodair ⋆ @necromancerrrs ⋆ @theladykassia ⋆ @thesassypadawan ⋆ @cocobear18 ⋆ @anisangeldust ⋆ @fredswrite ⋆ @byunnue ⋆ @hellokittyyloverrrr ♱ @cherriies-snake ⋆ @haydenslittlegirl ⋆ @espinathena-17 ⋆ @fallout-girl219 ⋆ @xhunnybeeex ⋆ @radiantvader ⋆ @urmomsgirlfriend1 ⋆ @hayden-christensen-verse ⋆ @dreamygirli3 ⋆ @awhhayden ⠀★⠀⠀─⠀⠀WRITTEN BY EROSMUTT 25.06.26, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED OR REMOVED TO/FROM THE TAGLIST.

[dailypj]

(Assuming that you’ve already put some thought into characterizing PJ, tho feel free to ignore this if not! I’m just trying to scope out how to potentially write PaperJam’s character into a fic, since him being sort of a skeptic could mean that he wins the idgaf war too well and has no impact on the central plot yknow)

Do you have ideas for any fun internal conflicts or character arcs for PJ? If there’s a multiverse-threatening conflict unfolding, what would PJ be doing about it, if anything? What mcguffins or circumstances could be triggered that would quickly pique PJ’s interest enough to get involved?

As always my first piece of advice for writing anything pj is to go through the resources provided by his creator, @7goodangel (@-ing in case you wanna put in ur 2 cents, he is ur guy)

Here are the links for:

Pj’s bio

Pj info tag

Pj faq page (bit of a shortcut for the info tag since it holds answers to a lot of previously asked questions, tho not all of them)

now for an actual answer, there's a long ramble under the cut, enjoy

first thing that ik for sure is canon, pj would step in if it's necessary to protect his family (I believe it was a comment somewhere by 7 that stated that pj would go as far as suffocating someone for threatening his kid's life)

if the multiverse being in danger has the capacity to hurt his loved ones I'm sure he'd do something about it, but I think the lengths he's willing to go will vary depending on what/who is causing it and which other characters are joining the fight

Ink for example is definitely an interesting ally considering their past. a conflict between them is pretty much inevitable, especially if you take from canon and had them separated years prior

Now if pj’s loved ones aren't present here, that’s where my guesses on how she’d act get fuzzy. In the past, pj took it upon herself to judge whether certain aus should stay alive or be erased. She believed that what error did was wrong not because it was a massacre of innocents, but because he did it too indiscriminately

(I’d say it was pretty easy to gain a dehumanizing view of others when the 2 biggest influences she had referred to the masses as just fictional characters or anomalies…)

Now, she does indeed spare aus she deems acceptable, but I’m not sure how much she’s willing to risk for them. Cuz like, part of her self-given job is motivated by the want to prove she isn’t a mistake to the man who wants every universe to die

Basically she’s got some pretty dark grey morals and it’s fun to deconstruct them (or make them worse if you wanna go the antagonist pj route, equally fun imo)

now a more headcanon-y idea (aka the trait I tend to exaggerate in nearly every pj varient I've made thus far for angst purposes) is leaning into the whole "I have to be useful to be worthy of anyone's care" thing, and just strongly wanting to disprove bad assumptions/expectations about herself (especially the mistake thing) which couldd lead to her going down a phase of believing she should follow in ink's protector footsteps to try and become more of a priority in his eyes (with the added bonus of keeping fears other characters may have about her "becoming like error" at bay)

does it work? idk but maybe if she just obsesses over it even more the identity crisis will be worth it Slash J

so ya that's my 2 cents on a potential conflict based on canon stuff, absolutely feel free to go ham on whatever direction you feel like taking pj I'm just a big advocate for "learn the rules before you break them" 👍✨

[em1989ts]

𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐭. 3

five hargreeves x fem! reader smut

part one. part two. masterlist

word count: 3.5k

summary: it would be unsafe of you and five to have unprotected sex in the apocalypse, but luckily you find a condom while scavenging, giving you both just the excuse you need

contents: smut, characters are 18+, protected sex, grinding, enemies to ??

author's note: i've been adding like 20 words a day to this fic for months but now i finally sat down and finished it up so yippee hope you enjoy, also i know condoms expire, let's just pretend they don't, also i didn't proofread before posting cause i just want to get it out there but hopefully it matches it with the first two lol

That night was simply instinct. You weren’t thinking right. Because if you were, you wouldn’t have done anything remotely close to being intimate with the likes of Five. 

Maybe it was because you were desperate, that him being the only man left in the world ruined your standards, but you couldn’t get the thought of his touch out of your deprived mind. 

The two of you woke up that morning with limbs completely entangled, yet without a word you separated and proceeded your day as normal, like nothing out of the ordinary had occurred the night before. 

He immediately began his attempts at fixing the ripped tarp, to prepare for the windy night ahead, ruffling through the stashes of supplies to find whatever could mend it together efficiently. 

His face was concentrated, seemingly completely focussed on the task at hand. You didn’t happen to notice the moments his hands would pause due to being so lost in thought he couldn’t resume motion. 

Occasionally he would sneak a quick look over at you, currently fixing together whatever you could find in your rations to create a suitable breakfast for the two of you. Before, he would only look to make sure you weren’t mixing anything inedible into his portion (something he wished he’d done before he almost swallowed a rusted screw you had put in his oatmeal), but now, he was only looking at you. 

He’d never wanted to look at you in any way other than disgust, your behavior had always overshadowed your appearance, but his bias couldn’t overcome the fact that he was incredibly attracted to you. 

His father had given him and his siblings “the talk”, in an elaborate lesson on sexual education, so he was very aware of the consequences of unprotected sex. It was too dangerous to attempt it in the apocalypse, and he doubted any form of protection had survived the end of the world. He would have to live out the rest of his life here in this dreaded wasteland with his fist as his only form of satisfaction. 

~~

While you made breakfast, you too stole glances at Five, waiting for him to possibly say anything at all about last night. 

You thought after using each other t̶o̶ g̶e̶t̶ o̶f̶f̶  for warmth that maybe things would open up between the two of you, at least a bit. Once you had actually thought about it, that might’ve been the only time the two of you had actually touched each other without trying to cause harm. You blame your human instincts on your need to feel him again. You didn’t realize how badly you missed physical touch until you were wrapped in his arms, feeling him all over. 

Now, you craved him, you needed him. 

Maybe you couldn’t have him inside you, but you’d find a way. 

~~

Breakfast was quiet that morning. There was no back and forth bickering, snide remarks that the other couldn’t help but start an argument about, just utter silence. 

Five inspected his food, there were no nails or rocks mixed in with the old porridge packets you’ve rationed, and it didn’t smell metallic or chemical, so he ate it as slowly as a starving man could. 

Rations were running low, having not left the base much due to the freezing cold, but the weather had cleared up, and the sun was shining bright. The snow had already begun to melt from the burning rays, clearing up the streets slightly, so the two of you would just be able to drag your wagon through to scavenge nearby. 

Five meticulously set up this current base in a spot where there were several convenience stores and gas stations within a couple miles in every direction, you couldn’t help but give him credit for his well-thought planning. 

Today, the plan was to head south for at most five miles and bring whatever the two of you can fit in the wagon back to the base. The most important items you two had to search for were food, water, and anything you keep you both warm. 

You took your bowl along with Five’s and tossed it with your other dishes, while he got up to grab his coat and the wagon which the two of you had been using as storage in its dormancy. 

“This isn’t a beauty pageant,” Five commented rudely, waiting by the base’s opening for you to put on your coat when he noticed you fixing up your hair, “It’s not like you would win, anyway.” 

He expected you to glare at him, slap him, and tell him how you’d win against him any day of the week, but you didn’t. 

You tied off your hair, brushed a few fly-aways out of your face, and walked right past him and out the base. 

He didn’t expect that, and he definitely didn’t like it. 

Once he figured you weren’t going to wait for him, he quickly grabbed the handle to the wagon and followed your path. 

He watched as you walked in between the smashed up vehicles, eyeing the compass from time to time, paying zero attention to him.

What was your problem? You’re too good to fight with him now? Was that it? Too good to pay any mind to whatever he had to say? 

It wasn’t like you could ignore him forever, he was the only other living being on Earth after all. He would get you to talk eventually, he would get you to refer to him in a way that wasn’t just a matter of survival. 

~~ 

The sun was bearing down on you harshly, yet the wind was ten times worse. The bandana over your face protected you from the sharp bite of the cold, but your eyes burned from their exposure. A new, unventured gas station was just up ahead, yet with the conditions you were walking through it might as well have been a planet away. 

As you were walking up the driveway, Five following suit with the empty wagon, you gazed inside the dark store. “Shit,” you grumbled, noticing the rather significant burn marks along the walls, the peeling advertisements on the glass windows, “This place burned pretty bad.” 

Five couldn’t tell if you were talking to yourself or if you meant to direct your complaints at him. Either way it was progress. 

“Let’s just see if there’s anything salvageable,” he responded, motioning his arm to insist that you head inside first, only for you to let the door slam shut in his face. 

You started examining the state of the store, walking past the register to see the wooden countertop charred, yet intact. He entered, pulling the wagon behind him and immediately heading the opposite direction, towards the wall of drinks. The glass doors of the refrigerators were cracked and blackened, yet they seemed to have done a good job in protecting the drinks, which were in perfect condition. He immediately dropped the handle of the wagon and drank from one of the waters on the shelf, refreshing his dry, aching throat. 

Meanwhile, you had begun making your way through the aisles, noticing he was busy precisely placing as many bottles of water in perfect rows in the bed of the wagon. Unfortunately, many of the snack options had been burnt to crisps. You walked in between the first couple aisles, filled with nothing but ash and remnants of cardboard, picking out anything edible and carrying it in your arms, not wanting to make a trip to the wagon.

Once you got to the middle aisle, you noticed that it must have avoided the worst of the flames, because there were several items still perfectly intact hanging from the pegs. Luckily, there were several packages of ibuprofen and antacids, as well as a large supply of first aid materials like bandages and ointment. While you crouched to the ground and filled your pockets with the useful materials, you scanned the aisle for other items that could be deemed useful. There were lip balms of a variety of flavors, razors which Five could never have enough of, eye drops and cough drops, and one more thing that stopped you. Your hand paused right before it wrapped around the items in the box. As your brain had caught up with your motions, you registered what it was — condoms. 

You allowed your hand to move again to inspect the small, square package. It was pristine, with not a scratch on the box. It felt almost awkward to hold, embarrassing to inspect, as your face flushed a few shades brighter. You knew what it was, of course, but a part of you assumed that every last condom on Earth had been destroyed, crushing the possibility of you ever having safe sex in this unsafe world. Now that you held one in your hand, that small hope that Five could give you what you wanted, and so desperately needed, was reignited. However, you would rather be all alone in this apocalypse again than face Five, holding up the form of protection as if it were your savior, and ask him to fuck you. You would rather die than face that embarrassment. 

“Find anything?” 

His voice appeared out of the blue. Or maybe it didn’t. 

Maybe you were just too lost in your own head to notice how he’d peered his head into the aisle to see you so deeply in thought, holding something you had found in your hand. 

Maybe he had gently dropped the handle of the wagon to the floor, and made his walking quietly to stand behind you, as your peripheral vision seemed to be long gone as well. 

Maybe when he noticed what you had in your hand, it all clicked for him. Your problem wasn’t that you were too good for him, it was that you were too horny for him. You were so bummed out about the fact he couldn’t risk being inside you while you were dry humping each other into oblivion that you were ignoring him entirely. He looked down over you, barely believing the fact that you were so out of it at the possibility of being able to fuck him. 

He couldn’t blame you. He himself was ecstatic, with only a smirk and slightly larger bulge to show for it. 

When he finally spoke, it shattered your thoughts, abruptly pulling you from your inner turmoil. 

You jumped, dropping the condom and almost dispersing your collection of items across the tile floor. Instead, you quickly stood up, tossing your items into the wagon, and walking off without a word. 

~~~

The walk back to the base was agonizing. The sun had gradually set, cooling the Earth once more, leaving the two of you to freeze. The tips of your nose and ears were red and numb, even your hat and bandana couldn’t protect you from the harsh winds. 

You hadn’t spoken a word to Five, although he hadn’t tried to make conversation either. He found it hilarious that he could see your scowl, specifically through your furrowed brows above your bandana, yet you couldn’t see the grin under his. 

Once you finally made it back to the base, you immediately took the wagon from his grasp and pulled it over to your rations, where you began going through everything you’d scavenged. After a few minutes of concentrated sorting, you looked over your shoulder to see Five standing there watching you work. 

“Did you need an invitation to help or..?” you sarcastically said, his silence aggravating you. 

He lowered his bandana and began removing his gloves, “Oh, so now you want to talk.” 

You scoffed, resuming your work, “I’m sorry you missed my voice so much, I didn’t realize how much you crave my attention.” 

He walked over to the collection of clothing the two of you keep close to the rations and tossed his jacket, hat, and gloves on top of the pile. 

You were worried. Usually when the two of you fought he looked violent, angry, like he hated exchanging insults with you. Now, he looked far too amused, raising your suspicions. 

He laughed under his breath, ignoring your previous claim as he leaned against the concrete wall and stared at you. 

You had completely lost concentration on what you were doing, turning your focus to Five. “What’s funny?” you asked, clearly not getting what was so amusing to him.

“How much of a brat you are when you don’t get your way.” 

That one sentence lit a fire of pure anger in your eyes, a flame that he’d missed more that he’d like to admit. 

He stalked toward you as you stood up, already gearing up to smack the shit out of him. 

“I’m not-” 

“You are,” he interrupted, stepping closer while continuing to taunt you, adding fuel to the fire. 

“I am not-” 

“You are. You’re mad you don’t get fucked so you decide to shut down and-” 

Before he can finish his sentence, your hands are already on him, shoving him till he stumbles backward in an attempt to regain his balance. In an immediate response, he pushes you back in retaliation, only for you to shove him over with all your might. 

He falls backward and lands on the very edge of the makeshift bed. Your gaze is filled with rage, face flushing with anger, until you see what fell from his pocket as he hit the bed. 

A condom. 

The small box that you had dropped when he confronted you in the aisle, he had picked up and hid in his pocket, bringing it back to the base with him. 

Your shoulders dropped, breathing fast as you looked up at him. 

He was now leaning back on his elbows on the rough blankets, smiling up at you with that smug smile he always wore when he was right about something. In any other case, you would have wanted nothing more than to smack him black and blue, wiping that smirk off his face. However in this scenario, you found a more efficient way to occupy his lips. 

Immediately, you rushed forward and crashed your lips onto his. He pulled you between his legs, wrapping his arms tight around your torso, and leaned backward fully until you were both horizontal against the bed. 

This wasn’t like the last time you kissed. 

Last time, kissing was a last resort. It was that little bit of sensual connection you both needed to push you both over that very edge of pleasure. 

Now, it was only the beginning. It was messy, desperate, and greedy as the two of you swapped spit and swirled tongues. Your hands held the sides of his neck as you pulled his face against yours, while his gripped your waist like he was afraid you’d disappear if he ever let go. 

He moved one hand from your waist to push up off the bed, sitting up and pulling your legs around his waist. He dipped you slightly, holding you firmly against his chest with one arm to lean down and pick up the condom, all while keeping his mouth firmly against yours. He placed it down next to him, bringing his hand back to your body, unzipping your coat and tossing it aside. 

The long sleeve shirt came off next, as you unwillingly separated yourself from Five’s lips, lifting yourself up to sit on top of him, hands pressing down on his chest, pinning him down to the bed. 

In the heat of the moment, after stripping each other completely bare, feeling the chill of the breeze that crept through the cracks of the base brush your skin, you had completely forgotten you had ever been upset with this man. Any rage you’d previously felt when you looked at him, completely vanished. Your hatred towards him was gone. 

Now, you were straddling the waist of an angel. A beautiful, masculine angel laying underneath you like he was a gift from God, sent to save you from this hell on Earth. 

His hair was played out around his head like a halo, grown shaggy, yet there was barely any stubble decorating his face. His skin was flush and fair, eyes perfectly dilated as they looked up to you, bare above him.  

His hands moved from your waist to your breasts, toying with you as he listened for your soft gasps, hips jolting against his at every spark of pleasure. The only items of clothing separating the two of you now were your underwear and his boxers. You laid back slightly, leanly against his bent knees for support, and grinded your core against him, feeling your warm slick soaking through the fabrics between you. 

His groans were heavenly, his head leaned back, enjoying the pressure from your hips, mindlessly twisting and pulling at your nipples, eliciting whines from you. 

He began to lift his hips to meet yours, increasing the friction and stimulation to your core. His eyes met your face, eyes lost in a daze, your face blushed and concentrated on reaching your high. 

Just before you could reach that high, about to topple over the very edge, he pulled you back down against him and flipped you both over. 

That was when you remembered he’s still the same man you’ve been stuck here with. A man who is a completely selfish asshole that the only physical contact you want to initiate with him is a smack right across his smug face. 

“Are you fucking kiddin-” He cut you off with a strong kiss, which he didn’t break as he removed the condom from its boxed and peeled open the wrapper. He pulled away and sat on his knees, bringing his sexual education lessons back from his memory and placed the condom on correctly, before lining himself up with your entrance and leaning back over you, lining his face up with yours. 

“You don’t have to do this,” he assured you. 

This might have been the only time you witnessed him acting like an actual, decent human being. And while you appreciated the gesture of consent, you couldn’t wait any longer. 

“Five,” you breathed out, eyes pleading, “I need it.” 

And with that, he slid himself between your folds a few times before carefully pushing in. You thought his fingers were big last night, but now with his cock barely halfway inside you, the sensation was mind numbing. Your arms wrapped around his back as he filled you up entirely, barely audible gasps filling his ear. He stilled once he was all the way in, concentrating heavily on not immediately spilling into the condom, ruining this entire moment, but the way your cunt squeezed around him, not wanting to let him, made it very hard not to break. 

After a moment he slowly began to move, pulling out slowly, before pushing right back in, somehow feeling even deeper as he hit a spot deep within you that sent a wave of pleasure over your entire body. 

He buried his face into your neck, sucking and biting in the sensitive skin, as your hands moved up to thread through his hair, tugging gently. 

Once the both of you got used to the feeling, he began moving faster, getting rougher. With each thrust into you, he groaned out into your ear as you met his movements with the same force. It was animalistic, greedy, intimate, you felt so close to him that you were practically melting into each other. 

When the thrusts became erratic and the whines and groans grew higher in pitch, it was clear neither of you could last much longer. He met his lips with your, barely touching, just enough to let his moans mix with yours, just as they had last night. His hands reached to grip your hips, pinned them down, allowing him to piston into you, chasing you to the edge as you let go around him. 

Your eyes squeezed shut, head leaning back, giving him access to continue marking your neck. The sensation from you cumming around him undid him, as he finally groaned into your neck and spurted into the condom, his hips finally spurting to a slow stop. 

He collapsed on top of you, his weight grounding you back to reality as you realized what just happened. After a moment, he slowly pulled out, removing the condom before immediately laying on you once more. With his cheek pressed flat against your collarbone, his breathing steadied, quickly falling asleep with a strangely unfamiliar look of peace expressed on his unconscious face.

This time around, you weren’t sure what this changed between the two of you, but you decided it could wait. 

You two had all the time in the world after all. 

~~~

tags: @lveegsoi @aureliariddlehargreeves @groovydazephantom @lovingyeet @venture-venus @greek-girl-dreams

[omnom-obeyme]

hii !! would you mind writing headcanons on how obey me chars would react to finding out that reader self harms? Feel free to ignore this request if you arent comfortable enough to write it !! Have a lovely day or night <3

I just want to start by saying thank you so much for the request and being respectful! I personally don't feel comfortable discussing topics relating to self-harm specifically due to personal reasons, but I didn't want to ignore this ask because I know how comforting reading fics/hcs like this can be when you're struggling because I've been there. So, I hope you don't mind too much, but I kind of reframed it to be about how the characters would help a reader who's struggling in general. I'm also sorry this took so long to get out. I've been so exhausted from work recently, but I finally had the time to sit down and write today. I hope you enjoy!

The Obey Me Characters with a Struggling Reader

Pairings: main cast x reader (separate)

Warnings: discussions surrounding mental illness; mentions of anxiety, depression, insecurity, difficulty eating, and sleeplessness; romantic undertones in most parts; nothing particularly extreme

Lucifer is an extremely supportive demon all the way around. He's also extremely observant, so chances are that he realized you were having a rough go of things long before you did.

He never explicitly brings it up, but he's always there. He never lets you struggle on your own, even when his own schedule demands too much out of him.

He'll always help with classwork, paperwork, student council assignments, and anything else he can.

Is your assigned dinner duty too stressful for you? He'll do all the prep work for you. Is starting your essay too daunting for you? Books on the subject your studying suddenly appear on your desk when you return to your bedroom. You're struggling to take care of yourself? Lucifer just happened to book you a spa day at the Devildom's most luxurious spa. Just as a reward.

He won't usually directly bring anything up. He knows how much mental struggles can wound a person's pride. He's always there for you, though. His support is more quiet than most, and he never asks for a reward. Seeing you get through the day, safe and healthy is all he could ask for.

You can't help the way your world seems to crash down around you when Lucifer kindly informs you that you've completely missed the due date for your paperwork. You try your best to keep up with all of your assignments, your student council work, and being tugged in twenty different directions by the demons, angel, and enigmatic sorcerer in your life. Missed calls, ill-timed remarks, and fumbled assignments have all been pressurizing inside you for the past few months, and you crumple down into the chair in front of Lucifer's desk. You don't know if you're more embarrassed to be crying in front of him or that you're crying at all.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid. God, I'm such an idiot," you mumble to yourself. You're absolutely certain that Lucifer is internally jeering at you and wondering how he could have picked such a useless human.

All you're met with, though, is the warm smell of his cologne and the comforting weight of his arms around you as he leans down to hug you.

"You're not an idiot, lamb. Making one error doesn't make you stupid," he soothes. His large hand rubs up and down your back slowly. He lifts you up into his arms and settles the both of you down into his large desk chair. You spend the night cradled in his arms as he helps you finish the overdue paperwork.

Mammon is a bit of an oblivious demon. He's not stupid by any means, he's just not the most observant when it comes to stuff you try to keep hidden from him.

He won't really recognize that you're struggling unless you tell him or he exacerbates the issue. Of course, that frequently comes in the form of his teasing. Most days, you can just brush it off, but it's hard to move past when you're feeling particularly insecure.

He'll be so apologetic once he realizes he hurt your feelings or has somehow managed to inconvenience you when you're already stressed out.

Mammon is a true believer in the idea that laughter is the best medicine. He'll always be on the lookout for ways to brighten your day. He's not above making a fool of himself to get you to smile, either.

He's also fully willing to embarrass himself by getting all sappy and mushy and heaping a bunch of praise onto you. Anything for his treasure, after all.

"Nah, of course you don't get it. You're just a dumb human."

Mammon's words are meant playfully, but sometimes you forget that. The demon has a habit of exhausting your tolerance for being teased. Most days, you're able to grin and bear it, silently reminding yourself that Mammon truly does love you and doesn't mean what he's saying.

Today is not one of those days. Even Mammon can see the way your smile threatens to wobble off your face and the way a subtle shimmer pools in your waterline. His cockiness instantly slides away, and he almost looks like he's about to start crying himself.

"Treasure, no, wait--dammit!" Mammon practically launches himself at you in his haste to hold you in his arms. He tucks you against his chest and squeezes you tightly. "I didn't mean that! You're not dumb! You're the only human worthy enough to be the Great Mammon's companion! That automatically means you're, like, stupidly smart!"

It's enough to make you laugh, and relief courses through Mammon like a wave. He might not be the most tactful, but he'll always bring joy to your day.

Honestly, the only time Levi ever promotes healthy coping mechanisms is for you. He's a mess himself and can't take his own advice, but he'll absolutely push himself out of his comfort zone if it means making his Henry feel better.

Yes, he'll let you hide in his room and wallow. He'll let you tuck yourself away in a pile of plushies if the only way you can fall asleep is with the soothing lights of his aquarium tanks brushing your skin. He'll even set up a special game of DND full of your favorite things just to get you distracted and happy.

Of course, you can't just coast or exist exclusively off distractions for the rest of your life. When you need to talk before everything inside you explodes, he'll silently turn off the lights, sit in one end of his bathtub, and invite you to sit in the other end. There's no pressure and no judgment from Levi. He gets it.

He's not always the best at advice or constructive criticism, but he's always there to listen and provide much needed distractions.

It's another one of those nights. The lights are dim, you're quiet, and Levi is trying his best to not stare at you. He knows you can feel it even when the lights are off. You're both sitting in the tub with your knees against your chest.

He suddenly feels the brush of your fingers against the tip of his tail, and he has to physically stop himself from running away at the contact. He doesn't mind it, not really. He's just not used to the idea that you don't find him gross.

"It's just...been a lot recently," you whisper, your words mixing with the bubbling coming from the fish tanks. "I just feel like I can't live up to anything anyone here expects me to be."

Levi doesn't usually talk on nights like these. He doesn't want to interrupt you, but he just can't keep his mouth shut at that.

"None of us expect you to be anything. I mean, you've already done way more for all of us than anyone else ever has. We just, like...like you a lot," Levi mumbles.

You chew on your bottom lip, and your fingers keep flicking over the end of Levi's tail. These nights always leave a hollow feeling in your chest, but you know your thoughts and feelings are safe in the dark and in the heart of your otaku with a heart of gold.

Satan really, really gets it. He's dealt with his anger for literally all his life. He knows how overwhelming dealing with mental issues can be. He knows how hard it is to overcome your own mind.

He really wants to be your prince charming, in just about anyway he can. He's gentle, understanding, and always patient with you. He never rushes you, and he never judges you.

He loves a self-help book, unironically. He won't be condescending about it or anything. All of his recommendations are always from a place of "I've tried this, and it really helped me. I hope it can help you in some way, too."

He'll help pick up any slack, too. He's always available to help with schoolwork, studying, or exam prep. He'll go slow with you and make sure you understand what you're learning, too. And on the days when you really need it? Yeah, he'll slip you a copy of his homework answers, but only for you.

He's also always there to sweep you off your feet. He'll take you on walks in the most gorgeous forest you've ever seen, you'll visit the most beautiful lakes or mountains--just anywhere Satan thinks you'll find beautiful. He loves seeing you eyes light up when it's just the two of you.

The words on the pages in front of you have been blurring together into incomprehensible nonsense for the past five pages. You keep trying to push through, but you can't make heads or tails of anything, especially since you could barely understand the base concept this chapter is building on anyway.

Tears prick your eyes, and your head droops forward. Satan, as perceptive as ever, is quick to propose a break.

"We've been at it for a while, yeah? Let's relax for a bit," he murmurs. His voice is soothing to your frayed nerves, but his fingers work the real magic as he begins rubbing your scalp. "Do you need anything? Water? A snack? A blanket?"

You respond with a simple shake of your head, content in the moment. His fingers withdraw after a while, and he sits down next to you.

"Now...what exactly are you having trouble with?"

Asmo feels insecure more often than he'd ever admit to himself. He's more of a "fake it til you make it" kind of demon, though, so you'll rarely ever know he's down. It's a bit weird, but it really does work for him.

He sees the beauty in most things, and he'll help you see it, too. Especially when it comes to yourself. You've completely bewitched the Avatar of Lust! Of course you're absolutely gorgeous, and he won't stop adoring you until you see yourself the way he does.

Do I even need to say that he's huge on self-care days? He'll literally lock the both of you up in his bedroom and bathroom, and you'll spend the day doing each other's nails, practicing makeup, doing face masks, doing affirmations, meditating, and trying out different herbal tea blends.

He's incredibly loving, and seeing you hurt hurts him. He's always going to go out of his way to lift you up and make sure you shine just as much as he does.

Sometimes, it's hard not to compare yourself to Asmo. He's just so blindingly beautiful, not to mention how stunning all the demons that surround him are. It's hard not to feel inadequate. You're just a normal human, after all. Some of these succubi were literally crafted just to be gorgeous.

Asmo doesn't see it like that, though. No, you have one of the most gorgeous essences he's ever seen. It goes so much deeper than your appearance, but, even then, it radiates out of your skin like sunlight to Asmo. No one has ever made him feel as seen, loved, or appreciated as you do, and he longs to return that feeling to you.

One too many dejected glances in his direction in public led to Asmo throwing a spa day for the two of you. The rest of his brothers were locked out of his room and banned for the day. This is all for you.

"I got you a new hair oil to try since you were complaining about it being too frizzy the other day, hon! It's lightweight but still nourishing, so it should be just the thing," Asmo explains as he runs his fingers through your hair. He lets out a quiet sigh. "I just love your hair. It's so perfect on you."

Asmo leans forward and rests his chin on your shoulder, lightly pressing his cheek to yours.

"Look at us! Aww...we're so adorable together! It should be criminal."

A smile tugs at your lips, and you can't fight the laugh that bubbles past your lips.

"Yeah, we are, Asmo."

Beel's another one who's more of a silent supporter. He wants nothing more than for you to feel safe and secure. He's not the most eloquent or expressive demon, but there's never any doubt about how he feels around you and how he wants you to feel.

If you're having a hard time eating, he'll help pick out recipes that sound appealing. He'll even make it for you himself! This is the one time he'd be able to restrain himself from eating all the ingredients. He'd also be super helpful on finding easy, nutritious, and yummy snacks to make if you're struggling with effort. He's also not above influencing you a little to make you more hungry.

He's also someone you can count on to get you moving. Whether it's just stretching, a walk, or a genuine workout, Beel will make sure you get some kind of activity in. He really does believe that getting your blood flowing is a great way to burn off negative feelings and to work up a bit of hunger.

He'll drop everything he's doing just to hold you, too. He's used to carrying Belphie everywhere, and he's happy to do that for you, too. Anything you need from him, he'd happily give you.

Beel's large hand holds yours loosely as you take a walk downtown. He finally managed to coax you out of your room, and he's practically been begging to get you to go to Hell's Kitchen with him. And, really, how could you ever deny him when he turns on his unintentional puppy eyes?

Of course, Beel has a big smile on his face. He's happy to see you out and about again. You haven't told him exactly what's been going on in your head, but he knows something's been weighing on you recently. He doesn't try to pry the information from you, nor is he pressuring you into talking to him. He's a gentle giant, after all.

"I'm really happy you're here with me, MC. I missed eating with you," Beel says once you're finally seated at the restaurant.

Something in your chest clenches, and you reach out to take both of Beel's hands.

"I'm glad I'm here with you, too, Beel."

Well, I think we all know Belphie's solution to most things. He's going to get you to try and sleep it off. Of course, he'll also be all snuggled into your side as he coaxes you to sleep.

Yes, he's a brat, but he'll be surprisingly tender with you if you show him how vulnerable you're feeling. He'll hold you tighter than usual, give you the best dreams ever, and he'll even let you use his special pillow.

He'll be particularly clingy if you tell him you haven't been sleeping well. That just won't do at all. Don't worry, though. Belphie can put you fast asleep in no time at all.

Of course, he'll also drag you down the planetarium to talk. He'll set up a soft blanket and then you'll just lie side by side as he slowly coaxes what's been going on with you out of your head.

He's a really good listener, despite the sleepiness. He'll always listen to whatever it is that you have to say. He knows what it's like to have his voice ignored, and he doesn't want the same for you.

When a knock at the attic door wakes Belphegor up, he's about ready to start swinging indiscriminately. That is until he sees you. You look pretty pathetic, honestly. You're wearing your pajamas, and you've got a throw blanket in your hand that's trailing behind you sadly like you're some kind of cartoon kid.

Belphie tilts his head to the side and looks at you expectantly.

"I can't sleep," you mutter, slightly embarrassed.

"Typical human. Come here," Belphie yawns as he pats the space next to him.

You slowly pad over to him and curl up against his side. He slips his pillow under your head, and his tail as well as one of his arms wraps around you. You're instantly soothed, and you can already feel sleep creeping in on the edges of your consciousness.

"G'night, Belph," you whisper as your eyes slip shut.

"Goodnight," Belphie whispers back, content to fight off bad dreams for the rest of the night.

Honestly, Diavolo won't really get it until you explain it to him fully. He's been sad before, and he's absolutely experienced negative emotions, but chronic anxiety? Yeah, he doesn't really have anything to be anxious about. There are some perks to being the strongest, wealthiest being in the entire Devildom. He's also not the kind of person to get down very often, so you do have to sit him down and explain your experiences and your point of view to him.

After that, he'll be extremely conscientious of your feelings. The last thing he ever wants to do is hurt you or add to your stress. The second he hears about teachers giving you too much work or demons making negative comments toward you, he's on the case. He's very protective of his exchange students! That's his official excuse anyway

Diavolo's honestly like a walking ray of sunshine most of the time, and it's hard not to feel energized in his presence. He's silly, loving, and pretty joyful overall, not to mention his positivity. It's easy to feel more relaxed and forget about your troubles in his presence.

Regardless, he'd do anything in his power for you. He'd build you your own luxury retreat in a cozy spot in the Devildom just for you to escape to. He's got unlimited resources, and he'll put them to use for you! Just say the word.

"I'm sorry, Dia, I just--I couldn't stay in there any longer. They all just stare at me, and I can't take it. It's--" Diavolo gently interrupts your rambling by placing a warm hand on your shoulder.

"It's no trouble at all," he says warmly. "In truth, I'd much rather spend the night exclusively with you. You make much better company than the nobles..."

A bit of warmth blooms in your chest, and you duck your head.

"I don't think that's a very hard standard to beat."

Diavolo's laughter warms you further, and he rubs your arm tenderly.

"No, dear. No, it's not. I'm certain Lucifer will be able to cover for me. Now, why don't we get into something more comfortable and sit by the fire, hmm?"

Barbatos is a very pragmatic individual. He very rarely feels anxious due to the fact that he kinda knows every possible future. That being said, he's still extremely sympathetic toward your feelings because he knows how things can go wrong, even if they won't actually go wrong.

He'll give you reassurance and comfort, but he won't let you wallow. He has too much respect for you to let you spiral. He's like a lifeguard, always keeping your head above water in that sense.

He'll craft a special magical blend of tea just for you to soothe you. Drinking it puts you at ease and gives you an almost serene feeling.

He's someone who'll go mother hen mode on you. It can feel a bit overwhelming having someone always checking in on you, but he just wants to make sure that you're taking care of yourself.

He won't always be able to be there for you physically, but he'll leave little good luck charms and positive energy attractors as little gifts. Of course, you won't know their true nature, but Barbatos prefers it that way.

I was just thinking of you, MC. Are you perhaps free tomorrow? I'd like you to come to the castle to sample the potential dessert menu for Lord Diavolo's party.

You stare down at your DDD as the text from Barbatos rolls in. The light from your screen is the only light available in your dark bedroom, and you squint. You can't honestly remember the last time you left the House of Lamentation, despite requests from the brothers for your company.

You sigh. Barbatos is never bad company...

Yeah, I can come by tomorrow. Is 1:00 good?

Of course. I will await your arrival with baited breath.

Barbatos sets his DDD down on the kitchen counter. Lord Diavolo's party isn't happening for another two months, but you don't need to know that. He'd gladly spend the rest of his day baking if it meant getting you back by his side.

Solomon might seem like he might not be the best person to talk to, but he's still a human. He may not worry about dying anymore, but his nervous system is still wired just the same as yours is. He understands the way your emotions work better than anyone else in the cast, really, since he's the only one who can directly understand the bodily experiences associated with them.

He can't cook for you, but he's always willing to get some sweet treats and have a chill day doing nothing.

On the flip side, he's also down to drag you out of the house to force you to get some external stimulation. He's very big on getting out and touching grass. He'll be especially keen on private trips up to the human world, so you can feel the actual sun on your skin and touch flowers without worrying about them giving you a rash.

He's more than willing to be your cheerleader on the sidelines. He'll always be your number one believer. As a mentor, a friend, or a partner, he's always got your back.

Your eyes watch the way Solomon's deft fingers move while crafting a spell. It's a relatively simple spell--you're just changing the shape of a wine glass to a champagne flute--but you can't seem to get it down for some reason. This is the tenth time that Solomon's demonstrated the spell, but your fingers still fumble on the third movement. Instead of changing shape, the glass in front of you shatters.

You let out a frustrated noise and collapse back onto the chair you're sitting in.

"It's pointless. I'm useless. I'll never be able to do it."

Solomon tuts, and he suddenly appears behind you. His snowy hair blocks out the candlelight, and he's now the only thing you can focus on.

"Don't say never, MC. It's not a good look on you. The reason you're struggling so much is due to the fact that you have too much raw magical energy in you. It just wants to flow out all at once. We just have to get that under control, and then you'll be just as good as me. Probably better. Maybe," he winks at you.

"But, still...I think that's enough for tonight. Would you like some cupcakes?"

You shoot him a slightly horrified look.

"No, I didn't make them," he sighs. "Simeon made too many."

Simeon would be so gentle with you, and it's not even in a condescending way. He's just so incredibly sweet, and he'd be so worried about you once you tell him you've been having a hard time.

Of course, he's an angel, and I personally HC that angels have an innate ability to be soothing toward humans without even doing anything. You can't help but mellow out a bit once you're around Simeon.

He's so easy to talk to. He's completely understanding and never interrupts you. He gives great advice, too. He's always able to help you find a path forward.

He's also more than willing to help you take care of yourself. He'll cook for you, make sure you're eating, make sure you're drinking water, he'll check in with you before bed, and he'll also make sure to reach out if he knows you have any difficult assignments coming up. He's a very warm, supportive presence all-around, and he'll always be there for you.

Simeon's smiling at you, and it's like the gates of Heaven are opening just for you. A sense of calm soothes the anxiety in your chest, and you let out a short huff.

"It's nothing that anyone's done, really, I just can't believe that everyone here likes me enough to actually want to be my friend. It's...I dunno. It's weird."

Simeon's hand settles over yours gently, and he pats your hand. You came over to Purgatory Hall for a much needed break from the chaotic House of Lamentation. It's not like you'd ever turn down the chance to eat Simeon's food, anyway.

"Oh, dear...you don't realize how lovable you are do, you?" Simeon murmurs.

Heat crawls up the sides of your neck and you stammer out a weak, "Wh--I don't...uh..."

Simeon just shakes his head gracefully, though the fond look in his blue eyes never dissipates.

"You are the most amazing human I have ever met, dear. Never forget that."

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