#how damn dependable and helpful he is?

[indi-ice-cube]

So, like, imagine if Milo and Sam had a great-grand-child.

That's Agent Daniel Sousa from Season 7 of AoS.

(credit to Secrxts; not my video)

[sysig]

Dr. “Has to get a good grade in therapy” Doran (Patreon)

[ahalliance]

qantoine’s coping mechanism to feeling left behind being both self-isolating and becoming possesive of those he cares for is so juicy as a concept . like yeah you go you funky creachure, manifest those complicated and sometimes contradictory emotions

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[mad-hunts]

here comes a list of the different levels of friends that you can be with barton, because i said that i would explain what being a ' level 2 friend ' to him would mean and i fully intend to keep that promise! so here we gooo.

level 1 friends: you're the type of friend to barton that he would wave to whenever he sees you. he would also complain about his work with you, but NEVER about his second 'business.' ( his organ trafficking && dollmaking. ) and in turn, he would let you complain about your work to him as well, or anything that might be bothering you. barton isn't really serious about your relationship emotionally, but he will encourage you and praise you for accomplishments / achievements. you two also may share a few interests, which barton enjoys talking with you about.

level 2 friends: you're the type of friend to barton that he is now moderately emotionally invested in. barton will DEFINITELY share his number with you at this stage, so expect him to call you if he needs something, or even if he just wants to talk with you. he also trusts you to a medium level and will help you reach your goals without ever being asked for it. barton does subconsciously have the expectation that you are willing to do the same for him, however, which is really neither a good thing nor a bad thing. you two go beyond just having similar interests... you share certain values with him and/or ideals, and because of that, barton sees you as someone he can depend upon. he would also save you in an emergency situation, BUT i can not say for sure that he will be willing to die for you.

level 3 friends: barton is now FULLY emotionally invested in you, so don't expect to be getting rid of him anytime soon! because you're stuck with him now, MUAHAHAH. barton will do things like raising a toast to you just because you're friends and will reach out to you himself whenever he sees that you're struggling with something. barton also lets you take a glimpse at what's really going on in his head sometimes, and in return, he'll be there for you as well whenever you need him. at this stage, literally, all you need to do is be around barton to make him smile. expect him to feel safe enough to be as silly as he wants around you and do things like give you unprompted hugs + allow you to cuddle with him. barton trusts you with his life, and he would put himself at risk of dying to protect you. so, yes, he would be willing to die for you.

[orcelito]

Bought a stupid suit thing. Disgustang.

[monty-glasses-roxy]

I dunno how long ago it was I was talking about it or if I ever did, but I was just thinking about the way some of the animatronics have unique ways of recharging separate to a recharge station.

Like I've had DJ and Roxy using special lamps for recharging for a while with recharge stations being a big risk to the systems, and this has developed a bit since then. Mostly just the reasoning behind why Roxy has it, and it's being given to a few other animatronics in Plex History stuff too. Then there's Chica with a biofuel stomach that converts all food consumed into a power source, and can be used with a recharge station (thanks @/phroggslayer!!) which is neat, even if I keep forgetting about it. Those were the only unique ones I had (I had something for the Minis but I don't remember it) but I've just had a thought.

Now, I don't have the game so I can't just wander around and have a look, but there's water in Gator Golf, right? What if the water has a current and Monty can charge via a fucking water wheel in his chest? Like a stomach hatch where it pops open while he's floating on his stomach like the gator he is and this wheel drops down so the current can turn it and generate power? Seems really inefficient ngl so maybe multiple wheels or something? I dunno I think that would be kinda cool but also kinda goofy???

An alternative could be that the water is electrified and whenever he goes in it, his body absorbs the power through the water. I feel like that would give him the side effect of slowly power draining some animatronics if he hugs them or something though which honestly could still be pretty fun?

Like, he can lie under the restoring lights with Roxy and DJ and cuddle with them (I'm thinking platonically but it doesn't really matter) to charge himself through them. They get to take an extra long nap because he's draining their power while they're getting it from the lights and they like their naps so they like this arrangement actually.

And then you could have Monty hugging Chica to drain from her while she eats, biofuel speed at maximum and they're testing whether or not Chica can eat faster than he can charge. That could be pretty funny. Some fun emotional stuff to look at too with him being unable to touch his friends without draining their energy, but if it's slow enough then it's probably not too big a deal. Even less of a big deal if he can turn it on and off at will.

The waterwheel thing is just so funny to me though??? It's like those cartoons where the robot opens their chest and there's a little hamster running on a wheel in there to power them lmao

But if he can drain power from electronics then he can grab your phone and drain it dry within a few seconds out of spite and I think he deserves that actually. Of course I'd let him be able to use the recharge station as well, but why would he choose to use that over floating around the Gator Golf water features?

[marc--chilton]

heyyyy i got a name! i would now like to take the time to specify that the emoji is NOT a guitar it is a BASS guitar is for pathetic losers who can't handle the better clef (joking about guitar being pathetic but bass IS superior by a lot, do you think my fingers can bend that way for chords? they can't)

i love the idea of bulking up around ruts. it sounds super inconvenient, and i like it when fictional characters suffer. is it like "oh dangit i ate a big meal and now my pants are digging into me" or is it focused on the upper body? do they have to buy separate clothes for around the ruts when the regular ones don't fit?

house really does have a great kubrick stare. i think that house being autistic is the closest thing to canon as possible when the canon has said he isn't. but he is. and arguably so is nearly everyone else except cameron. what i don't think gets enough love is ADHD Chase and Kutner, which is odd to me because those two would score horribly on that test where you spend 15 minutes not clicking for an X but clicking for every other letter and also trying to not double-click for a letter. i think it's the connors test. i could be wrong. my point is they SCREAM ADHD to me but i can't seem to find others who agree with me there. do you agree with this conception of them?

do heats/ruts screw with medications? like. does ibuprofen work to reduce fevers in heats? does your dose need to increase during heats to accommodate heightened metabolism? does your dose need to decrease around ruts to accommodate lowered metabolism (if that's what helps the bulking)?

-🎸

hmmm i suppose that could be partly genetics too. like some people get some beefy arms, some just get a gut, or a fat ass,

given that it's highly encouraged for alphas to stay at home for their ruts, most don't bother with actual pre-rut outfits since the window of pre-rut bulking to holing up at home or a hotel for the rest of the cycle is pretty small, opting instead to go with sweatpants and breathable tees. so there's probably some who have rut loungewear specifically but most are fine with just a handful of stuff

i can see adhd chase and kutner totally!! i haven't really thought about it but those sound 110% feasible to me. i don't have adhd myself but i'm part of that trifecta of adhd/autism/anxiety so like i can See it, yknow....... i'm understand you........ also i love "except cameron" i'm just imagining she's their token neurotypical friend. which is even funnier when you notice how normal she thinks she is but she's soooo not. i didn't forget about that HIV bit girl

as for medication....... good question. ibuprofen works in a pinch as a fever reducer, yes, but someone in heat will burn through it faster than they can safely ingest more. those with heart conditions probably need dr visits after their cycles due to the strain it puts on them, and given their results may have their medications adjusted. alphas bulking up for their ruts actually will need smaller doses of some medications because their bodies aren't absorbing everything taken in. think of it like stockpiling. when they come off their rut after having taken their normal medication regularly, it isn't outside the realm of possibility to overdose from backlogged meds

[tojisteddy]

Ruthless

or: Country!Simon catches you attempting to tag his property, of course he has to teach you a lesson.

cw: 3.6k words, 18+ mdni, Country!Simon, alt universe, no use of y/n, some plot with smut, dub-con, spanking, breeding kink, p in v, creampie, age gap (Simon 29, reader 23), primal play & reencounter (if you tilt your head), pet names (little girl, city broad, lucky), fingering, lite pussy pronouns, degradation, lucky!reader

a/n: a scrapped Drabble turned into a full story cause I love plot

part 2!!! <3

You were running like your life depended on it.

It was dumb for you to even attempt to tag the Riley barn to begin with.

You knew that, your friends knew that, anyone in town would’ve warned you otherwise.

It all started with a little end of college fun, wreck havoc like the good ole days. Nothing out the ordinary. Something that supposed to be a silly little prank, saying goodbye to college and hello to adulthood by spray paint and a little egging.

Was it a little too much for your liking? Yes.

Just plain rude and disgusting because at the end of the day, what exactly did Ghost do to deserve any of this? But peer pressure is a nasty, annoying, bitch. Regardless of age.

The Riley Ranch had been rumored as evil and haunted, the only people who really interacted with the land being other farmers. Even when Simon Riley, the last standing of the family, came to church (on the rarest occasions), people kept their distance. Afraid his families “bad” energy would spread over to them.

They called him Ghost.

There was a fire at the families home, started by Ghosts father who was always in a rage. Your father made sure your family stayed clear of him when you visited, he wasn’t too kind to quote, ‘big headed, posey, no good, city slickers.’ No one thought his rage would grow so large into trying to kill his whole family.

No one one besides Ghost made it out that night, there was rumored to be a large burn mark on his back to prove it.

You’d gotten found too fucking quick, “What the hell do you think you’re doin?” His voice booming on the highway road.

Simon Riley was blessed to have ears like an owl. Heard the car pull up and stop on his property, the rumbling of the engine— a beat passes— the car doors slamming shut and the far off hushed giggles. Nothing new, people had passed his property to spook whoever the hell they were with. Try to show how “evil spirits” ran rampant on his land, even if they were, he hadn’t ask for them to be there. But they’d never stop. They’d do it before.

They’d do it again.

But he heard that can of spray paint shake and his boots hit the floor before he even realized it.

Not the brown farmhouse gate he’d spent so long sanding down as a child with the help of his grandfather. Not the white ranch fence he’d spend so long getting together as soon as the land was properly handed to him and in his name, that’d he hand painted himself and fixed up the grass so people knew better than to drop any litter there.

No fucking way.

Your friends were already in the mustang you’d arrived in, those bastards, revving the engine and zooming off. You dropped the can, more spray getting on the grass fuck, fuck, fuck— your brown eyes slowly looked up, meeting a more than livid pair blue eyes.

You wanted to squeak out, ‘im sorry’ but where would there be room for that? Not in between the ranch fence that already had a squiggly line and crooked smiley face with black spray paint on it created by yours truly. There would absolutely be no room for an apology when his face was already screwed up, jaw clenching from underneath the bandana that hid his face, eyes narrowing into slits.

Well duh, babe. Move those feet!

And you did, turning at a 90 degree angle and sprinting like it was the end of the world. Ghost mumbled a ‘god damn it’, and ran right after you, his boot quickly meeting a carton of unopened eggs.

Oh you were definitely in for it now.

You ran through the Egyptian wheat, tall as the eye can see, green leaves scratching your arms and legs. You prayed to God there wasn’t any crazy animals hiding in there. You were panting, taking a quick glance behind you and you could only hear rustling of the large plants that surrounded you, feet hitting the floor.

Then you heard a distant yell in the field, “[+], you get back here!”

Well it wasn’t exactly the hardest to spot you out, you looked like your mother— who looked like her mother. You came from a family known for actually being good people, never hesitating to help or providing when need be. You’d met Mr. Riley a couple times in your 23 years of life. Quick instances that you vaguely remember. But you knew his face, and he knew yours.

Your mom had been one of the few good people making sure he was well taken care of when he was younger, she couldn’t raise him like she had wanted to with having to travel back and forth from the city for work as a children’s author. But she’d made sure he was taken care of in whatever home he was placed in, encouraged him to join the Boys and Girls club, something to ground him.

“Just needs someone to look after ‘em is all,” she’d ensisted while braiding your hair one night before heading to meet him at his group home, fingers weaving through your curls with purpose, you were around eight. “Some kids need a lil extra love, show ‘em someone’s there for ‘em. Simon’s one of those kids, so is your older brother, even though he’s a pain in my side at times. They’re all good in their core— their heart. It’s important to have someone nurture it. Gods called me to do that.”

Though, the relationship strained when the foster system let him go. “He’s just having boy troubles. Boys go through those weird hormones when they hit a certain age. Wants to prove ‘imself as a man. They get real hard headed [+]. He’ll get over it ‘nd pull through. He always does,” she’d say. So certain. Undoubting. Like a sixth sense.

And Simon did manage well enough, clearly, for him to have a proper farm for himself, one that was properly taken care of and thriving. You’d visited with your mom two years back. It was so clear to you now. Your mother practically smothering him in a hug when she got close enough. Simon was awkward at first, but accepted it. His eyes and whole body softing by her touch. She’d been family when no one else would be.

He looked towards you, you met a gorgeous shade of blue, long blonde lashes to match his short blonde hair, face with a few noticeable scars and half his face hidden under a black bandana. You were standing a ways off so you couldn’t hear what he or your mother was saying, but you saw him nod toward you. Your mother saying something and him nodding in response. She waved you over,

“[+] you know Simon— I mean, Mr. Riley since you’re a grown man now, ain’t that right.” She laughed.

“Whatever you want ma’am.” He looks down at you and extends his hand. You take it, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and give it a firm shake.

“Good seein you.” It wasn’t just words, he was sincere, caring. Like seeing an old friend.

You nodded, “ ‘S good seeing you too.”

He showed you the farm after that in his truck. The big house that was farther toward the woods, properly fixed after the fire a decade ago, the Egyptian wheat field, the horses and chickens and the new blue barn he was building to accommodate them, the horse training area used to break in horses no one else would. It was a lot of land, a lot of work, but you could tell by the sound of his husk voice, he was proud of himself and the work he’d been able to accomplish. Even more happy when your mom praised him.

It finally clicked: that barn— and right on time, you’d caught sight of it. Not the one Mr. Riley had been fixing when you visited, the old one. Large and in charge that had old wood, and was definitely falling apart. But you made a bee line for it anyway.

What other option did you have?

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest, nerves on a high because you didn’t even notice how close Ghost was to you before you ducked so he couldn’t grab you. Kicking his shin and dashing towards the barn that was bones.

“You damn brat! fuck me!” He cursed, hopping to ease the new pain on his leg before running right after you.

You undid the large wooden latch, sliding the doors open and immediately trying to slide them close. But his hand shot through the opening, a shiver runs down your spin.

Up the steps you went, the only place you could go, and Ghost was right on your heels, quick, almost silent— didn’t call him Ghost for no reason. You tripped and fell on a pile of hay and wild chickens went fluttering and clucking down to the barn floor, clouding your vision. Next thing you knew, Ghost finally caught you. His hands grabbed hold of both of your arms as you rolled around and thrashed underneath him.

“You fuckin asshole! Let me go!” You grunted, trying to kick your legs where the sun didn’t shine but completely missing when the older man closed your legs, gripping them together under your knees in his hands. He had you like a pig about to be roasted.

“You ruin my property but I’m the asshole?” The fucking audacity of you. “Gonna teach you a fuckin lesson cause clearly they don’t teach you city folk manners.”

With ease, Ghost sat himself down on one of the old hay bails, bringing you over his lap. He grunts, keeping you as still as you can, and then like thunder— his large calloused hand comes down to your plump ass, echoing in the empty barn.

“Mr. Riley!” You gasp, your head shoots up, eyes widening— there’s no way- was he giving you a spanking? The next one yanks you out of your thoughts, brutal, harsh, that makes you scream his name again, “Mr. Riley, that’s enough!” But he’s completely ignoring you.

“Spray painting my fences,” SMACK!

“Tryin to egg my house,” SMACK!

“‘Nd Ruinin my fuckin crops?!” SMACK!

“You’ve lost,” SMACK! “you’re damn,” SMACK! “mind! little girl!” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK!

You’re crying and whimpering, as his hand continues forming ripples in your ass. You’d gotten one singular whopping your whole life, from your grandma for breaking her good vase when she told you no ball throwing in the house. Life altering from one incident that made you into the goodest girl there ever was.

And then there’s this predicament, one that ripped your soul in two. One half fueled with hatred for doing something so crude— so audacious. And then the other that’s struggling to keep itself contained. one more hit that meets your tender bottom, one that hits you in a place you didn’t realize was boiling over— a smack to the ass that forces an egregious moan out of your trembling plump lips.

Simon stills, his eyes flicking over the state of you. You’re shaking, head down and legs finally not kicking. But he sees the way you try to hide yourself further into his lap, because you and he both know you just moaned because of a little whooping.

Oh— you're crazy.

You’d unknowingly created a fire and Simon would add lighter fluid to it.

He lifts the bottom of your short flower patterned dress, just to peak, you jump but still, your heart pounding even louder than it had before. And it’s a sight for the man to behold— your underwear soaked like the damn ocean. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to bring the hands down to hide the slick that was ever growing.

“D-don’t look.” You sniffle. Too damn cute.

But there’s a snicker, something that makes you look back at him and his eyes are shining with mischief, “My god, you’re a filthy lil thang, aren’t’chu?” It’s almost rhetorical, he’s not asking you, he’s asking your cunt. “Didn’t know you city broads were like that, learn somethin new every day, don’t you?”

You yelp when he yanks your underwear down to your knees, thrashing around once again, but Simon keeps you still. Your pretty pussys glistening as bright as sun on water, slick all over your fat second pair of lips. He brushes his fingers against them, sending shivers up your spine, you cant help but arch further into his touch.

You whine, “Mr. Riley-“

“—Shhhhh, gotta hear her,” he murmured, slowly slipping a finger in your drenched hole. Your pussys practically sputtering out with every thrust of his finger, slipping another one and coating it perfectly. He takes them out, sucking up the juices on his tongue that you’ve left on them, spitting down on your hole before stuffing his fingers back into you. He hums in satisfaction as you lose your mind, “such a fuckin slut, you just get this wet for anyone, don’t you?”

Your eyes reach the back of your head, breath hitching, “Nooo, I don’t- I wouldn’t!— ooh- agh- Mr. Riley!” your interrupting yourself with your own moans. Whatever anger you had before, folding into nothing.

He finally let’s go of your hands and you grip on to his leg, nails clawing at his jean cover thighs. Your stomach tightens running away as your orgasm builds but Simon follows, thrusting his fingers into your gummy walls even more, curving them to find your sweet spot with determination.

“Eaaasy now, don’t want to hurt you. Be good ‘nd cum. Know you want to, make a mess all over me darlin’.”

And that’s all it takes, with a twitch and a squeal, your cumming all over his hand. Simon thrusts his fingers a couple times, watching the wave of euphoria wash over you before sucking one of fingers clean, then bringing the other to your mouth.

“Come on, don’t be fuckin uppity, taste it lil girl” he tsked, you take the middle finger in your mouth, tasting your own arousol, swirling your tongue around it. Slowly pulling your head back with a ‘pop.’ It all goes straight to the blondes aching dick.

You hear it, the unbuckling of his belt, your stomach touching the tint that had built because of you. your mind finally snaps out of the trance he’s got you in. You barley manage to get out of his lap, scrambling through the hay, tripping over your underwear, on your as knees. Giving Simon the perfect view of your tender ass and the slick that’s dripping down to your thigh before you turn when you meet a wall. Pushing yourself into it.

“We- shit- someone- someone’ll come!” You ramble out, panting, still feeling the after effects of your orgasm. Your eyes avert to anything in this barn besides the man infront of you. But he made his way over to you, slow, stalking. And once he’s on his knees and hovering above you, he springs his cock from from his boxers. The blonde is hung, large and girthy, his tip strawberry red and leaking pre cum.

He bends down, sliding his fat cock between your wet folds, and then smacking his tip on your clit creating a plap, plap, plap. You can’t help but whimper at the sensation.

“You want it don’t you?” he whispers in your ear, taunting you, goosebumps wave over your skin. “Don’t want me all the way,” he traces over your belly, and then pokes right where your uterus is, “up here, hm?”

“Don’t want me to make you feel good pretty girl? Don’t wanna feel it once?”

Maybe it’s the adrenaline that’s pulsing through you, the way he’s looking down on you like you’re pathetic, dick crazed maniac. And maybe that’s exactly what you are, just once— you just want feel him stir your guts just. this. once.

“I do.”

And your soft voice is just enough for the brute to yank your legs open, Simon throwing your legs over his forearms and spreading your pretty hole open with just the tip. The man starts bullying himself inside the tightness of your pink walls.

He’s big. He’s too big. You hiccup, shoving at his shoulder while he’s splitting you in half, “Mr.Riley, ‘s so much! hicc- can’t. I can’t.”

He croons, slowly thrust more and more of his veiny length into you. “Come oooon city broad, thought you could take it? Don’t go runnin. Been runnin from me alllll this time little girl.”

“Bet you won’t do no shit like that again, ruining my damn property,” Simon hissed, smacking down your clit a few times. “Gonna fuck that nonsense outta that lil brain ‘f yours.”

“I won’t! I promise! Mmmph- I’ll be good! S-so good just for you. Always for you.” You mewled, one hands clawing at the wall behind you and other hand at his shoulder. He finally feels it, his cock reaching the very hilt of you, balls smacking your ass crack. The damn obscene sounds your syrupy pussy is making to keep him inside you, and his tip giving your cervix the messiest and he’s sure, the first kiss it’s ever received.

A baby.

You’d look so fucking sexy, being all plump with his fucking baby. He pushes your thighs back to you head further, jackhammering into your heat rough and mean.

“Five,” he mumbles, groping at one of your tits in his hand. Squeezing and kneading it like a vice.

“Wha-“

“You’ll give me five ‘f ‘em, won’t’cha? Make me a daddy.”

He’s talking nonsense, partially. Simon wasn’t dead set on five, he’d wanted a baseball team but he’d settle for whatever you wanted. One would do if it caused you too much strain. He’d take care of you and the baby, buy you whatever you asked for, have you sat on that back porch, in a rocking chair. Your hand on your full belly, watching him as he worked all lovingly.

Simon breath hitches, rolling his hips into yours with a grunt, fucking drunk at the thought of it. The thought of you, all while your pussy was squeezing on him like you were reading his fucking mind.

“C-christ almighty, I got lucky with you huh? A snug lil cunt like this deserves to be up filled up with my cum.”

You still couldn’t believe it, thee Simon Ghost Riley, was with you in this old barn fucking your brains out like you were fucking Eve in that damn garden, on top of a pile of hay. Both of you letting out moans and groans like animals that you’re sure anyone who stepped foot on property would be able to hear. It’s hot, and sweat is forming on both of your foreheads, your skin is sticky. Simon’s big balls hitting your ass every punch of his tip into you G Spot. both of your eyes hazy, stupid off the other getting off.

“Feel so gooood M-Mr. Riley! So much!” You keen, reach for the bandana hiding his face. He always pushes your hand away but then he remembers what you’re about to be— his lover, his wife— the mother of hic children.

“Mamma’s gotta know the face of ‘er children’s daddy right? pull it off.” And you do, tugging it. And god, maybe this whole ordeal got you lucky.

So damn pretty. A scar on his nose, another one at the end of his pink lips, blonde strands swaying everytime he ruts into you, “Mr. Riley’s sooo pretty,” you slur, talking to him like it’s some secret. You’re lucid in his cock, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure while you stomach coils up.

“Uh-uh, eyes on me city broad, look at me!” He squeezes your cheeks together, planting a fat kiss on your smooshed lips. He snaps his hips forward, and your head would’ve hit the wall from how good you feel. But Simons still got your pretty face in his hands.

“Gonna have ya allll bare foot ‘nd pregnant, waddlin yer cute ass ‘round here with a ring on that finger.” He’s telling you, as if this is already happened and he’s seein it with his own eyes. All you can do is moan at his words. You can’t even form a sentence at this point. Just nodding your ditzy little head while he gives you his dick.

“Gonna be a pretty fuckin mamma too, fu- shit baby, your pretty tits all full with milk for our kin— damn, you love the sound ‘f that dontcha? You can deny it all ya wont, but she’s achin for it.”

God, you are. She is too. You didn’t even know how greedy your pussy was being as he pistoned in and out of you, “Gonna— gonna cum, fuck I’m gonna-“

“-Yeah, thaaat’s it lucky, come all over your husbands cock.”

All you can utter is a ‘s-shit’ when your orgasm smacks you, your toes curling in your converses, thighs shaking in Simons hold.

The blonde gets you in a headlock, smooshing you down into the floor further, brushing your curls with hay out of your gorgeous face. rutting into you as your walls clamp onto him, begging for his all milk he’s able to give you.

Simon growls, and the strings of cum fill your womb. Your clammy bodies are still stuck together as he rocks the last bit of cum into. Mumbling while kissing your neck, “take it lucky it’s all yours. Gotta keep you nice ‘nd full if you’re gonna get pregnant.”

It’s quiet finally. The barn itself is old and creaks but you can hear the chickens right down the steps clucking, the cicadas chirping, the breeze passing through the trees. The only think you hear are his and your pants,

Simon scoops you up in his arms, adjusting your dress to cover the mess he’s created thats dripping down on that barn floor with every steps he takes.

“Mr. Riley, where are we- where are we going?” You hiccup, gripping onto his shirt. All you can look at is him, a little in shock, a little blissed out. The only thing your able to focus on is the handsome man holding you against his chest. The way his heart pounds louder as he looks down at you.

“To the house. It just won’t take after one go.”

a/n: a draft that’s sitting since last month. Luv you bubs. Can’t wait to write more country!simon

most recent masterlist

[apocalypsegay]

the way disco elysium plays with and ultimately shatters the concept of "camaraderie" in the police and the military truly is So. Good.

it introduces you to kim who is this ideal of the Brother in Arms - you meet him and you know. he'd lay it all down for you.

you then proceed to realize this is a kim thing, not a cop thing, despite the skill that informs you about it being The Cop Camaraderie skill

the rest of the cops are not just unhelpful, they're cruel. they're a boys' club of toxic masculinity, homophobia and joking about how they abuse their power, like when jean stole mustard from a homeless man. if harry begs them for help, the greatest kindness the operator can do for him is pretend he didn't hear and cut the connection to save harry's pride. the more you put into this skill, the more the rancid underbelly of policing and policemen as individuals in this system comes to light.

and that's before we get into the plot-relevant stuff, how martinaise was abandoned by jean and co because jean was too damn busy trying to make a point to harry than do his fucking job.

then there's the bond between the paramilitary squad. unlike the cops, they're tight, a family to each other, and it makes them completely immune to reason the moment the Head of their hierarchy gets murdered. and this head of theirs, the most rational, most charismatic of them all, their leader, still was a monster who, for His Men and their Morale, saw kidnapping some poor girl and offering her like a human sacrifice to the pit of animals that was his squadron as a Rational course of action.

maybe there's love there, in a way, but it's the kind of love that wholly depends on seeing your circle as the only people deserving of life, and the rest of the world as insects.

and i think abt how so many other stories that try to be cop or military critical still fall into that trap of believing that the people in these environs are a Family doing their Best, that they got each others back and thats all that they need to get through this!(whatever plot event is happening)

and not that its like. a cesspool of keeping each other in Check or maintaining that Family only by Othering the rest of the world

[nochepsicodelica]

"Turn off your phone, ma. Give me all your attention," Toji murmurs, behind you. His hand dips into the messily unbuttoned portion of your shirt and paws at your chest, while he kisses up the side of your neck. Soft and slow, wet little pecks to demonstrate how much he needs you and craves your focus on him after not seeing you for hours.

"Sorry, bear. People from work are being annoying," you explain, after sending another message to the group chat you have with your colleagues.

"When are they not? Dumbasses can't get shit done without you, but that's not your problem, right now," he says, undoing more of the buttons on your shirt. "You're not there, and you won't be there until the day after tomorrow, so turn off your phone and let those idiots figure it out on their own for once. They depend on you way too much, doll."

Toji hums, disapprovingly, when you start typing out another response. "If you don't turn it off, I will," he says, resting his chin on your shoulder. "You're off work. You're home with me. Get out of that work mindset, now."

You send the last message and give your phone to Toji.

"Good girl," he praises, taking the device out of your hand and turning it off. He puts it in his bedside drawer so that you can't get it until later. "Let me take care of you, baby. Lie down and just shut your brain off, for me," he instructs.

You do as he says and slowly make your way farther onto the bed, laying your tired head down on the pillow with a heavy sigh. "I'm exhausted," you puff out, folding your arms above your head and shutting your eyes. You could easily doze off like this.

"I know," Toji says, his voice low with the validation. He goes on to undo the last couple buttons of your shirt, and pulls the halves apart, exposing your torso. He leans down to press a kiss to your tummy, his gaze pinned to your face. He loves that soft smile that forms on your lips as he keeps going.

"Barely saw you today," he murmurs, against your soft skin. "Don't you know, that it's not just you missing me when I go to work? I miss you when you're gone, too." His knuckles graze the bare skin of your tummy, causing goosebumps to spread all over the area.

"You shouldn't overdo it with the help, ma. You gotta think about yourself, too. Would they do the same shit for you if you asked them to? Or would they all of a sudden have plans, or a dentist appointment that was scheduled six months ago?"

You sigh, frustrated, because one of those excuses was used on you just a few days ago. "I know..." you groan with all the exhaustion you feel in your body. "You're right, though. I'm not at work, anymore. I'm home, now, with you, and you're taking me out of the work mindset," you say, delivering his words back to him in a manner that lets him know that you believe it. That you trust that he'll bring you peace of mind after a day that lacked so much of it.

"Damn right. Just let me be good to you. You don't have to say anything else, right now. It's me and you."

He unbuttons your pants and pulls down the zipper. His fingers hook around the waistband and lower it.

"Lift your hips for me, baby," Toji requests, smoothly pulling down the waistband so that you can fully relax on the bed, again, after. The coolness of the room reaches your skin, eliciting more little pebbles on your skin, as he continues to roll down the material until your legs are entirely bared. He tosses the article aside and goes back to touching you with all the delicacy he can muster. His hands wrap around your calves, smoothly maneuvering around so that they end up on your shins, caressing the expanse in soothing motions.

You feel his lips on your knee, a couple kisses pressed to the area before he switches to the other one. His kisses trail higher up, following along the path of your thigh, then he switches off, again, giving your other thigh the same treatment. You keep your eyes shut all the while, feeling everything you receive from Toji in a heightened sense. You've entrusted him with your body. How he chooses to take care of it is entirely up to him for the moment.

His hands warm your outer thighs as he progresses towards your hips, then your lower abdomen. You can feel yourself growing more and more tired with every caress and every featherlight kiss brushed over your skin. It's all so soothing and you feel so safe. You feel like he's lifting a weight off your entire body, allowing you to release all the tension you feel, and clear your mind of what's stressing you out, even if it's only temporary.

"Sleeepy princess," Toji murmurs to himself when he peeks up and sees your chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. He places a couple more kisses on your tummy, nearing the bottom of your bra, before pulling away, with the intention of letting you rest.

"Wait... don't stop. Please," you mumble, tiredly. "You haven't kissed here..." you run your hand over the upper part of your chest. "...or here," you say, dragging it towards your neck.

"My bad, little lady," he says, with a soft chuckle. "Thought you were asleep, already." His hands land on your waist and mold around it, proceeding with calming up and down motions.

"It feels nice," you mumble. "Like I'm resting in a room full of clouds," you elaborate, with a comfortable sigh. "You're doing a really good job. I feel much more at ease. Thank you, baby."

"Don't worry about it, ma," Toji responds, quietly.

It feels good to hear those words from you. The roughness of his warm hands on your body doesn't bother you, neither does the feeling of his scar against your skin. They do the complete opposite for you. His hands reach for you and cradle you whenever they want to and you never deny or reject him. He's never felt the need to ask for permission to hold you, because you always receive him in such a warm and loving manner. It feels good to know that he is capable of making you feel better in this way.

Toji moves higher up your body, his palms planted on either side of you to maintain balance. He leans down to continue his rounds of kisses, now on your chest. Your hands go to the back of his head and gently bring him closer. It's an invitation for him to rest his body on yours, and he gladly accepts.

"You just love getting crushed by me, don't you?" He teases, as he positions himself so that both of you can be comfortable in this sudden arrangement.

"Mhm. The heated weighted blanket, human teddy bear combination can never go wrong," you respond. "Do you not like lying down on me?"

"Those words did not leave my mouth, did they?" He asks, placing a kiss on your collarbone.

"Are you thinking it?"

"No," he replies, the single word serving as a good enough response to end your doubts.

"Okay," you hum, quieting down after.

He smears some gentle kisses onto your neck, pressing the tip of his nose into the area where he smells your perfume strongly. He sighs, contentedly, at the familiarity and presses a few more kisses onto the space below it, before merely resting against you. It's as if he indulged in so much of your warmth and presence, that he managed to soothe himself while he was helping you wind down. He's in some sort of daze—like you unknowingly put a spell on him that just threw him into a state of serenity. He feels like he could just shut his eyes and get the best sleep in your embrace.

"Love you, bear," you murmur, slowly rubbing his back.

"Mm," he hums, another soft, relaxed sigh leaving his chest. "Love you, ma."

[froggibus]

i’m begging you for some nsfw hcs with wade & logan

i NEED more info about jealous sex with them specifically

please and thank you 💋💋

Jealousy Sex - Logan Howlett & Wade Wilson

Pairing: Logan Howlett x reader (no pronouns are used but has a pussy) x Wade Wilson

Genre: smut/nsfw

CW: poly! relationship, jealousy, possession, scent kink/scenting, taunting & humiliation, oral, double penetration, unprotected sex, creampie, AFTERCARE

omg of course!! the two of them being jealous over you would be such a handful >~< id love to write a full length of this sometime too!! thank you for the request lovely 💓

these two are such a handful when they’re jealous

Logan has no patience for other men getting in your personal space

if some other guy is talking to you too long or starting to get a little too close

he comes and stands behind you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your neck

he’ll make a big show of it too, sucking at your skin and breathing in your scent

“d’ya smell that? hm?”

you scrunch your eyebrows together, wondering what’s about to come

“that’s my scent. mine. all fuckin’ over ya.”

he’s dragging you upstairs to the nearest locked bedroom before you can even react

sex with him while he’s jealous can go either way depending on just how riled up he is

sometimes it’s deep and intimate, going until you’ve forgotten the rest of the world

or it’s rough and hard and biting, until your head is spinning and his name is the only thing you can remember

he’ll have you face down in the pillows, his grip on your hips so tight you swear he’s using his claws

his cock bullies so deep inside of you that tears form in your eyes and you have to wind your hands into the sheets to keep from screaming

and once you throw Wade into the mix…

Wade does NOT get jealous easily & even if he does, he just jokes it off

it would take a lot to get him going & god help you if he does

he’ll swoop in when someone’s hitting on you and press himself in real close

not nearly as showy as Logan but he’ll make real good eye contact with them and call them out for it

“i know i know” he’ll kiss the side of your head. “so fuckable, right?“

he’ll have you propped on the counter of the nearest bathroom, his face stuffed between your legs in an instant

he’s holding your legs open with ease & relentlessly licking your poor, overstimulated clit

every time you try to shuffle away or close your legs he’s pushing them further apart

“ahahah, not yet baby. if you can still move then I haven’t done my job right.”

when they’re together & jealous?? you’re not leaving that room for hours and they’re going to fucking ruin you

they’ll have you whining and overstimulated long before either of them slip inside of you

they take turns over who gets to eat you out, the other holding your legs open and mumbling a tantalizing mix of praise and degradation in your ears

they’re both dirty talk kings

by the time Logan slips his cock through your folds, your legs are already shaking

you’re moaning so damn loud that Wade has to shove his cock in your mouth to keep the people at the party from hearing

the two of them can go for hours thanks to their regeneration and if you think you’re getting out anytime before that…

once you’re nice and fucked out in Logan’s arms, Wade’s sliding his cock inside of you and then they’re both fucking you

they get SO caught up in the moment trying to one up each other too—the only thing they can agree upon is that you’re theirs

when the night is over, you’ll be stuffed to the brim with cum and half-conscious, fucked out on the bed

they’ll clean you up nice and good though

Wade is the best ever at aftercare, he’ll always have water and a warm cloth for you (or in this case, a tshirt he stole from the closet)

meanwhile Logan will massage your aching muscles and shaking limbs, kissing your feverish skin

masterlist | marvel masterlist

if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! i appreciate every like, comment & reblog i receive ^^

[apatheticsunday]

Phantom of the Manor

AKA "The Batfam unintentionally start giving ritual offerings to the Phantom. Danny, who's been mistaken as the Phantom of the Opera, is wondering why his hoodie pockets are full of tomato slices??" prompt idea!

Headcanon that Ghosts become more powerful the more people believe in them, kind of like deities. Danny's never really had to deal with the whole "ritualistic sacrifices to Bloody Mary" or "superstitious prayers against Davey Jones" because Phantom is a Hafta. Danny doesn't need people to believe in him or worship him.

So, he's never gotten a ritual offering before.

Which is why he's absolutely baffled when he shoves his hand into his hoodie pocket to grab his phone and feels something... squishy. And cold. Both Sam and Tucker scream as Danny jolts to his feet with a squeamish shriek. He damn near Goes Ghost as he tries to tear off his hoodie, regardless of the staring mall-walkers. Danny finally manages to fling the hoodie onto their table, scrambling to Sam and Tucker's sides, trying to breath through a panicked: "There'ssomethinginmypocket!!"

Sam carefully pokes around until she finds... squished tomato slices? They're oily and salted like a tomato caprese without the cheese. Which is an interesting choice for a snack. You'd think Danny would at least use a Ziplock bag or something?

("Ancients! Of course, I didn't put them there, Sam!")

Fast-forward a couple of weeks. Danny's going insane because why the hell are there tomatoes literally everywhere? Every couple of days (or hours, depending on the day), he finds different types of tomatoes all over the place. In bed when he wakes up. In his jean pockets at school. Even in the shower, he'll be blindly trying to find the shampoo bottle and come across a handful of grape tomatoes. He can't. Handle. It. Anymore. Danny's going to become the "Tomato Man" at school from how often he randomly pulls out tomatoes from his pockets. Like he needs another reason for Dash to mock him.

The last straw was when Danny was Full Ghost and felt something... itchy in his suit. He knew before he saw it. Danny tentatively pulled the sleeve of his suit open, silently praying that it wasn't what he thought it was, and- yeah. There's V-8 smeared from his goddamn elbow to wrist. He had to fight with tomato juice in his suit for several hours. And that's it; Danny literally can't take it anymore. He goes to Frostbite, begging the Yeti to help him with his Tomato Problem.

Only to be told he's receiving offerings. Which are apparently incredibly sacred and should be appreciated. (It'd be easier to appreciate if it was, like, cash or something. Maybe a Nintendo Switch. Instead, his patrons are worshipping him by offering... tomatoes. Great.)

So, clearly, the only option is to go straight to the source (i.e., his patrons) and tell them to Fucking Stop Giving Me Tomatoes. The next time he feels something weighty in his pocket (gross!), he follows the thready connection of his worshippers through a portal.

And Danny steps out in his full Ghost Regalia (because clearly they're worshipping Phantom, right? So Danny can't exactly show up in ripped jeans and his favorite NASA hoodie). The family sits at a dinner table... which is a little weird, since he'd expected an altar or something. But even weirder is the beady, predatory that look borderline-violent staring at him from everybody at the table. There's an uncomfortable silence more tense than dinners at Vlad's mansion.

Then, Danny carefully scoops out the soupy, baked grape tomatoes from his pocket and dumps them on the table. He doesn't wait for them to question it, just points to the tomatoes and says, "I appreciate the offerings, really, but it's gotta stop. It's gross. I have to wash tomato juice out of my clothes every day. If you're gonna leave an offering, no. More. Tomatoes. Please."

The oldest man seems jolted out of his stupor.

"Excuse me, but could you please explain why you've come to our home?" The man asks cordially. (As if Danny couldn't see him carefully gripping his steak knife like a throwing dart. And that's just rude, honestly. Danny was invited.)

"Uh, I'm Phantom? You literally give me offerings every day. Again, I appreciate it, I never thought I'd have diehard fans, but I don't even really like tomatoes. I mean, they're fine in salsa and stuff, but even I won't eat pocket-tomatoes."

"I believe there may be a misunderstanding. We don't worship a deity named Phantom nor have we left any offerings." The oldest says. He seems like he's about to continue when one of the black-haired adults interrupts him with a nervous, "Uh, B? About that..."

So. Yeah. It turns out Dick Grayson and Jason Todd forced the family to watch Phantom of the Opera, which spawned the joke of offering any food they don't like (i.e., tomatoes) to "the Phantom" (i.e., their trashcan). More than half the family doesn't like tomatoes and Alfred uses it as a punishment for breaking something, overworking, etc. They'd gotten pretty sneaky about scraping their leftovers into the bin but had gotten into a habit of saying "this one's for the Phantom, a treat for the Phantom," or something incredibly stupid like that.

Danny's just... a little relieved, honestly? Because he's literally fifteen and wouldn't really know what to do with followers if he had them. Plus, now he doesn't have to worry about waking up with tomatoes in his bed or making excuses for all his tomato-hoarding while at school. (Which was not necessarily the right thing to mention to Bruce "Serial Adopter" Wayne. Practically the whole table turned to stare at Bruce when Danny mentioned he's apparently an underage deity, waiting for Bruce to sweep in with a well-executed, "Well, it's getting late. Why don't you stay the night?" Because Bruce apparently can't help himself from collecting another black-haired, blue-eyed kid.)

[madamechrissy]

Pretty Please

Pairings- Yandere Caleb x F! reader

Warnings- MDNI/NSFW- a sick fic, you're literally sick from taking care of Caleb (based on the memory in the game) but Caleb knows just how to make you feel better. Don't read if not your thing- he's obsessive asf as we love him, oral sex (f receiving) low-key yandere behavior, Caleb being slutty for you even though you're the only girl he's been with, sweet and also freaky asf - 2k WC

Just me being actually sick ( I have the flu ughh ) and writing this as a completely self indulgent thing- comments and rbs appreciated if you enjoy

You're sick, really sick, after nursing Caleb during a really bad flu, now you've gone and caught it yourself. Ever the caretaker, Caleb is gently spooning some broth into your mouth, holding you up gently, his big hand supporting your head. You hate how good it feels, how good it felt laying against him when he held you all night.

You're both too close, you know that, childhood friends forever, fuck you are all each other even has these days, you never want to ruin it, but your flushed state and addled mind make it worse. You're too sick to ignore how good his cool fingers feel, too weak to pretend you don't crave him all over you.

You take a shaky breath as he puts an electolyte drink to your lips now, you wrap your mouth around the rim of the cup, sipping just so, lip print left on the beveled glass. "I told you, Pip squeak, you were gonna catch it, but someone is stubborn."

You manage a cute little glare, and he laughs at it, as he sets the drink down, running his fingers over your hot forehead, frowning a bit. Even with the medicine you were still running a pretty high fever, breaking just a little sweat that's shimmering on your skin. He can't help but think how pretty you are even sick, but fuck when weren't you?

In his bed, in his arms all night, like pure torture, trying to focus on caring for you instead of doing what he really wanted, to have you wrapped around him, to forget anyone exists but him. He is even taking the slightest pleasure with you depending on him so much right now, selfish but how can he not feel that way, when he's so desperately in love?

"I refuse to be sick." You inform him, making him chuckle, his dark lavender eyes lighting up just a bit, mischievous in their glint.

"Oh, yeah? Think you're so invincible." His voice is a comfortable taunt, a tease as he brushes a droplet off your lips, making you pause then.

"I am! I'll tell it to-" you cough just a bit. "To fuck off."

"I bet you will." He's brushing your hair back, so close now, you pause, looking up at him, breath so quick it makes your chest rise and fall.

Why are you wet while you're sick?

Fuck.

"It's all your fault, you know, playing doctor." You pout now, but your eyes flutter shut as he leans over you, pressing his lips to your forehead in a sweet kiss, eliciting a little whimper that makes him pause, kissing it again. "Feel good, honey?"

"Honey... not Pip squeak?" He chuckles again, looking at you as he runs his thumb in a circle over your flushed cheek, damn near burning to the touch.

"The noise you made," his voice drops to a husky whisper, straight nose damn near brushing yours, and your hands find their way to his soft blue shirt, thinking wildly he'd kiss you then. "It was as if... you really liked it, did the kiss make you feel better?"

You nod then, sighing, and he trembles in his grip of you, desire making him ache. "You can't kiss my lips, you'll get sick again."

"You want me to?" His whisper was shocked, you turn your face then, but he presses a kiss on your hot cheek now, making your grip tighten on his shirt. "You're sweet when you're sick. Look at you, weak like a little kitten."

"Jerk." He laughs again, pecking a kiss on your neck, and that's when Caleb loses control, the insane control he's always kept with you, when he brushes lips on your sweet flesh, and you cry out, and he can feel that heat between your thighs. "Caleb..."

"Yeah? Feeling better yet?" He kisses down your collarbone, tugging at the shirt you wore, swallowing you since it's his shirt, and he wonders if you're wearing anything else.

His bed.

His clothes.

His.

You're his, you're supposed to be his, fuck.

When his hand slips down, brushing your breast, he watches your nipple press against the thin white fabric, making him let out a shaky, heavy breath, and your hand slides up, palm over his racing heart. Caleb has an athlete's heart, but it's fucking racing like crazy, you feel it, eyes locking.

"Where do you need me to kiss it better, Pip squeak? You just tell me."

"Caleb..."

"Aren't I always here for you? Don't I always take care of you?" You swallow now, nodding, as his eyes get darker, plump lips parting, looking up under his dark long lashes as he kisses your nipple over the shirt, and your back arches, cunt throbbing again.

"You always take care of me." He moans again, hands sliding down to your waist now, then your hips.

"So let me make you feel better. Make you feel so fucking good."

"How?" Your innocent whisper almost ends him, he's never asked you outright but always hoped you would wait for him.

"Has anyone kissed you..." his fingers drift down until he finds your slick cunt, your gasp of pleasure making his cock throb and leak sticky precum. "Here?"

"No... you know I..."

"Never like anyone enough to?"

"You're... usually annoying me too much for me to notice anyone." He smiles against your skin, yanking the blanket off you and leaning back on his knees, looking down at you as he slips that big shirt up your thighs.

"Oh, is that it? Just annoying?" He bites his lower lip when he sees it, your bare glistening cunt, emitting even more heat than your fevered skin. "Fuck..."

"You're annoying and... clingy and... attention- ah!" He scoots down the bed, spreading your thighs, slipping that shirt up and pressing a hand on your tummy, breath so close to your cunt you can't take it, gripping the soft blankets under you. "C-Caleb!"

"So no one has kissed you... right..." His lips smack as they press a kiss to your clit, and you weakly jerk, body still aching from the fever now. "Here?"

"No one." Your answer ends him, he rests his head on your inner thigh, trying to fucking compose himself, rigourous military training couldn't prepare him for the scent or taste of you- of course he'd stolen many panties- but the source was even sweeter. "Are you sure it'll um... make me feel better?"

"Well if I kiss your other lips you think I'll get sick, right?" He asks casually, pulling your folds apart and breathing against your tiny clit, making it twitch as he smirks just a bit. "You tell me if it makes you feel better, I'll always make you feel better."

You nod weakly, and soon Caleb, the closest person in the world to you, is lapping his long pink tongue up your slit. Your thighs close, earning a firm smack to them that stings.

"Hold them open." That commanding voice, the military voice of his that makes you ache, you immediately agree. "Good girl."

Good girl!?

You're done, when Caleb slips his tongue up your slit now, juices gushing out of your hole, which he hungrily fucking laps up, as you're shaking, desperate for more. Your hands entangle in dark brown silky locks, just making him moan when your nails press his scalp, when you pull, and he flicks his tongue again.

"Ah!" You're shaking, weak and exhausted, like he's sapping the last bit of hydration from your body, but it feels so fucking good you can't take it.

"This helping, honey? Feel better yet?" You shake your head, earning his grin, you feel every line of his teeth against your plump lips, jerking your hips as he flicks the tip of his tongue up again on your engorged clit. "You need more, then ask for it. How do we ask nicely huh?"

"Pretty please." The words ruins him, fuck you ruin him, he grips your ass then, dragging you closer, and starts eating your pussy in earnest, in ways he's only ever dreamed of, better than lapping your soaking wetness off your panties, better than anything. The first time he's finally gotten the girl of his dreams against his face, and you're falling apart for him.

He feels so good, tongue slipping inside gummy walls that convulse as your hoarse voice echoes in Caleb's spacious room, and the sounds of him drinking you up are fucking obscene, lewd, the squelching wetness mixing with his moans as he laps at you. His fingers press into the plush of your thighs, leaving bruises he hopes stay, and so do you, as you're arching your hips up, weak but willing to give him all of you.

Caleb's grinding his cock against his mattress, aching to slide it in, and fuck he'd love that, to take you, make you fully his, but he knows you'll need energy for that. So for now he murmurs - "Cum for me, would you? You'll feel so much better, won't you? Let me take care of you."

You manage a nod, then Caleb sinks a finger in your tight entrance, the stretch and how full you are too much, he grins, sighing, eyes so dilated they're black with desire, damn near cumming as he presses up, finding your spot, and your body responds violently, you feel it all fall apart, almost hurting with how weak and sore you already are, the pleasure so intense you can't see.

"Caleb, m'gonna-"

"Cum, pretty, lemme drink you all up, hmm?" You're ended, cumming so hard you almost faint, as you feel lightheaded, ears ringing when he laps at your clit and presses a fingertip in that spongy spot, and when you do, you gush so much he has trouble drinking you all up. Dripping down his face, down to the dark sheets underneath you, screaming out so weakly the last of your voice is gone.

"Oh my god..." You're struggling as he presses one more kiss on your pussy now, then your inner thigh, running his fingers up and down your slit, smirking as you twitch, crying out with a voice almost gone.

"Feel better, don't you?" He asks, leaning over you, strong muscles of his arms tense and defined, and you feel it, his hard cock hot and heavy under his sweats, as it rests between you. "Answer."

"Y-yes. But Caleb we..." You swipe some of your glistening cum off his chin, flushing furiously, as he smiles, brows lowering, so dangerous then, he's so fucking dangerous. Your body has used so much you feel exhausted, eyes fluttering shut as he leans on an elbow, brushing your hair back. "We just..."

"I took care of you, I made you feel good. Didn't I say I always will?" He adjusts your shirt now, helping you sit up once more, and you eye his lips.

"Then kiss me."

"Kiss you hmm? You're so greedy, you're gonna get me sick again?" You just nod, energy seeping from your sick body, and he does just that, kissing you, and he grips you so tightly then, shaking with the effort it takes not to fuck into you. "God, taste yourself, don't you?"

"Y-yes..." You hide your face against his chest then, as he holds you close, stroking your hair.

"You're cute I swear, I'd give you anything you ask." He will give you everything, in time. For now, he knows what's best, pulling back and covering you again, brushing your hair gently. "You need to hydrate, you've... lost a lot."

"Oh my god." He's chuckling a bit now, eyes bright, and you feel yourself wanting to tell him everything, but for now he's helping you drink, and then giving you medicine, before holding you against his chest. You drift off quickly, and he smiles as he thinks of how you're going to have to extend your trip, he doesn't think you'll be feeling good enough yet, and he will take care of you, no one else can quite like him.

Had a few requests for more Caleb, I am in LOVE with him during this event my goodness, I am down to write more if you all want! Hope ya'll enjoyedd this was somehow cute and filthy lmao.

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[magicdustsworld]

Zayne has standards.

He really does.

And those standards include not thirsting after his very beautiful wife every time she has the audacity to exist in a damn sundress.

But here he is.

You are sprawled out on the couch, using a cushion as a recliner while you scroll through your phone with a practiced ease that should have been illegal. You are wearing that sundress again—the same one he bought you and the same one that made him lose his mind the first time you walked out of your bedroom wearing that. The soft yellow clings to your bust and torso, before flaring from the waist down. A slit runs down from your knee to the hem—giving him a tantalizing view of your legs as you cross them over one another. The neckline dips low; although keeping your modesty concealed, the sweetheart shape leaves no stone unturned—promising the allure behind the veil.

There you are resting on the sofa like some celestial being descended from heaven; taking away his breath and self control—fighting and failing hard to resist the temptation.

And the worst part of it all? You aren't even trying to seduce him.

You are just there.

Radiant.

Effortless.

Dangerous.

As ever.

Zayne leans on the doorway, arms folded over hios chest and jaw set in a thin line as if that would the heat from crawling up his neck.

As if sensing his gaze, you speak without making the effort to look up, "Anything wrong?"

"It's too cold for you to be wearing something like... that.

"Huh?" Finally, you grace him the look he was so desperately begging for. (Not that you'll ever know about it). You make some clicks on your phone before turning the device towards him, "See! It's 70 degrees. It's warm enough."

In response, your husband just glares at the screen like it has personally offended him. It has. Then, he mumbles something incoherent under his breath; along the lines of 'You have a knack for getting knocked out cold' and 'How much it'd help him you if you only sprout some wisdom and put on a cardigan.'

He rotates on his heels, strolling towards the kitchen—at this point only some chilled water would help him—and hoping you haven't caught onto his monologue. But you did. You always do and when you finally register his words in your mind, a slow grin curls down your lips.

So that is it, huh?

No sooner has Zayne reached the refrigerator, he feels the warmth of your figure behind him. He fixes you with a questioning gaze, one of his eyebrows raising, as he fishes out a bottle of water from it.

Leaning against the counter, your perpetual smirk depends and that's the cue for your husband to know that you are upto no good.

"You okay, darling?" You ask, voice low and turning towards a teasing edge. Stepping closer, you place your hand on his forearm—the muscles tensing almost instantly under your touch. Perfect. "You look a little... warm."

Zayne clears his throat, "I am fine."

"Mhm, hmm, you sure?" you ask, leaning in—absolutely revelling on the effect you are having on him.

"Of course," he swallows, stepping back but you only step closer; not letting him or anyone shorten the proximity. You wouldn’t even let it happen, no matter what occurs. "Why would you even think otherwise?"

"Heh!" You snort, amusement floating in the sound. "Because what if I say you keep looking at me like I am dessert and you are starving?"

"Then I'll say you're delusional."

"Oh?" This time, you raise an eyebrow. Then, wedging your voice to a tone lower—transcending it to something sultry and wicked. "Then you wouldn’t be affected if I kiss you right now?"

His shoulder jerks back, eyes widening as a warmth spreads all over his cheek and burns down to his neck. "You wouldn’t dare—"

But you do.

You kiss him.

Standing on your tip-toes, your eyelids flutter shut as your soft lips pressed against his chapped one. The slow motion of the movement gave him all the time in the world to memorize each nook and cranny of your expression before you engulfed him into a sincere affection. Sacred in the act. Reverent in its nature.

After being happily married to the calm and composed Dr. Zayne—one of the best surgeons in the Akso hospital and the youngest winner of the starcather award—for two years; you'd wonder surprise kisses like this would be considered a routine now. And although they are, Zayne's reaction to them every time hasn't had a single itch of change. You still remember how he had reacted when you had kissed him unexpectedly for the first time. It had been under a snow cuddled christmas tree in the heart of Linkon city and as cliche as it was, it was the fruit of your hard earned resolve after yearning for him for literal years.

Even that time, his hands and feet had fallen victim to paralysis as well. Heart beating in his chest at a rapid rate and he stood there like a statue, barely moving his lips against yours—just like now. Only when did you begin to pull away, did he finally take the lead.

His hand wraps around your waist, pulling you close whilst the other cradles your jaw. Angling your face to the side, he parts his lips—pressing them on yours with a fervent hunger. His tongue prods over your lips and you open your mouth, welcoming him into the salacious exchange. The fabric of his shirt, bunches inside your fist prompting you to pull him closer. He relents, lips meeting with yours with sheer desire and affection. Despite the carnal nature of his mouth on yours, you couldn't deny the wafting purity in the air. The way Zayne handled you with so much affection and zeal—never rushing you, matching his tempo to yours because it isn't just him indulging in this wanton connection. There's you and Zayne is nothing but vigilant when it comes to you; as if you are a fragile thing and any stitch of recklessness would shatter you. Something he'd never let happen as long as he lives.

When he let's you go, both of you are breathless. Inhaling the mingling air in abrupt, short pants; a flush spread over your skin.

Then, "Still fine?" You whisper, gripping the fabric of his shirt tighter. The smug smile back with full force.

Zayne, still dazed and doomed, "You are... evil."

But even as he says that, his hold on your waist tightens just ever so slightly. Because, even if the end of the story concludes you as evil, he'll be gratified to know that you're his evil.

P.S. if y'all are wondering why does every Lnds drabble of mine consist husband!LI then it's because I'd husband them up in a breath if they were real ;-; jdhdjhdjhs hope you liked it

Zayne is my main btw <3 do tell me yours!

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Sick & Tired

How I imagine the LADS Men take care of you when you're sick [requested by: depressed but well dressed anon]

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎

ready and willing to take care of you, but also is in his ‘I told you so’ era because he knew you’d end up getting sick

will do everything and anything you tell him

would let you lay on his shoulder or in his lap while you nap

even though he’s with you constantly to take care of you he somehow manages to not get sick

brings you medicine and a glass of water

cooks you homemade soup and will feed you if you let him

depending on how sick you are he would take time off from work to look after you

for my girlies who cry a little when they dont feel good he would wipe your tears for you “Don’t cry this sickness is only temporary”

if hes still working he’ll always try to be there until you fall asleep and rushes home to you

leaves soup in the fridge for you when he’s not there

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕

teases you for getting sick until he realizes youre sad “Aw cutie are you not feeling well?” “I hate it here” “Tell me what you need”

Doesn’t want to get sick so yes he’d bring you whatever you ask for but he’s wearing a mask and gloves ; avoids kisses “once you’re no longer contagious I'll give you a kiss”

doesn’t mind telling you stories or humming you songs to get you to sleep

would feed you, but be prepared to never hear the end of it “You’re just a sick girl who needs my help in your time of need I know I know my services are impeccable” “Can I have my tea now?”

mocks and teases you when you get fussy about anything “I can’t stand you” “Good thing you’re laying down then huh?”

gets sick anyway because his dumbass would eat off your spoon/fork or drink something of yours

you two end up sick in bed together and he’s even more whiny now

lots of cuddles and kisses now since he got himself sick

doom scrolls with you while laying in your lap

Thomas has to come and take care of the two of you

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛

I wouldn't be me if I didn’t say it ; PAGING NURSE XAVIER

he’s at your side in a split second

so excited to have free reign in your kitchen ; immediately tries to make you soup and burns the pot

blows the kitchen up in your house/apartment ends up having to take care of you at his place

finally orders you soup and medicine after you cried because you didn’t want his cooking

he sleeps when you sleep

constantly checking your temperature

doesn’t mind carrying you around the house he knows you can walk, but he likes having you draped over him

blows your nose for you ; puts the tissue to your nose “Blow.” “Thats what she said” “…..your snot is dripping please blow”

sore throat? he’s right there daily with a spoonful of honey “Here its good for you”

can easily handle you when you get fussy about taking medicine “That was quite the tantrum” as he shoves the medicine in your mouth

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜

already knew you were coming down with something he already has everything ready to go

picks you up and takes you to his place ;has his chef prepare home remedies tailored just for you

brings you everything himself ; you also have the twins at your disposal

sits bedside and encourages you to eat as much as you can “take two more bites and then you can go back to sleep”

still tries to kiss you even though you’re sick because he doesn’t give a damn “Sylus I'll get you sick stop” steals a kiss here and there anyway ; gets sick like two weeks later

wipes and blows your nose for you “You look like a sick kitten” “Shut it”

doesn’t care when you get fussy about taking medicine “Are you done? Good. Here.”

if you want to stay in bed all day thats fine ; if you want to cling to him like a Koala around the house thats fine too he’ll carry you

lets you sleep on him and steal his warmth

checks your breathing when you sleep longer than usual

leaves the twins to keep an eye on you if he needs to step out ; leaves Mephisto to watch you if he needs to take the twins with him

the type to give you a massage even if you’re not having body aches

𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚋

is already at your doorstep with groceries and medicine

keeps you close to him and in sight at all times

your personal chef truly ; he’s wrapping you in a blanket and laying you on the couch while he makes you something to eat

checks your temperature regularly ; gives you medicine like clockwork

spoon feeds you so you don’t have to lift a finger

reminds you that you don’t need to thank him ; he’ll always take care of you no matter what

cuddles you while you sleep after cleaning your place ; puts a humidifier in your room if you’re congested

tries to make you laugh so you’re not sad ; reminds you that he’ll always be there for you so no need to be sad

wipes and blows your nose for you “Your scrunched up face is adorable”

teases you if you ask for a massage if you’re having body aches ; of course he’s overjoyed to do it though “You know I'll give you a massage whenever you want”

says he won’t kiss you while your sick ; ends up kissing you out of habit and gets a little sick “Now it’s your turn to take care of me”