It's Always Sunny With You (NSFW)

just a thot that I had today (also an apology spicy thot because this sub!billy fic is taking WAY too long to polish):

(reader is presumably afab in this one, sorry y'all)

so in the 80s there were no in-car instructors: your parents took you to get your temps and, when you turned sixteen, took you to get your test.

but reader is an abysmal driver: failed the test multiple times, temps revoked, yada yada yada. so now they're in senior year and determined to get their license, right? and who better to teach you how to drive than your bestie billy hargrove?

and at first, it's normal. he's teaching you about the amount of pressure you put on the break, how to gently press the gas without sending the car flying, typical driving shit. he's actually a pretty good driver when he wants to be.

but after your first few lessons he decides its time to talk about distracted driving. you should never drive distracted, he told you, but sometimes you have shithead friends in the car, too. so you gotta learn to tune it out. and you're like, yeah, okay, makes sense, until you're pulling out onto the road and his hand finds its way between your legs.

And this mfer just looks dead ahead, saying something about ignoring distractions and paying attention to the road. And it's so hard to pay attention to the road when he's sliding your underwear aside and gently rubbing at your sex. Rubbing harsh circles into your clit, scolding you when your hips buck uncontrollably when he touches you just right, talking to you like he isn't knuckle deep in your pussy.

And imagine he promises a reward if you don't crash or cum on the drive. To "prove" that you're a good driver, that you don't need his lessons anymore. He might even give you his dick if you're good enough. And you'd love that, wouldn't you, darlin'?

And I imagine he's just degrading you the whole time while tears stream down your face from holding back your orgasm (and also trying not to crash the car oops). thought you were finally getting the hang of this, he'd say, but it turns out you'd rather whore yourself out than actually learn. i've seen you starin', darlin', i should've known you were nothing but a slut. just usin' my fingers and you're already falling apart, hm? so condescending in the best possible way.

just driving instructor!billy thots 🤤

Hey!! Would you do a sub!billy hargrove/dom!reader smut? Thank u <3

Boy Next Door (NSFW)

S3 spoilers in my author’s note, and vague reference to how S2 ends!! 

Link to Part 2 <3

Summary: You’ve lived in the trailer park nearly your entire life, long enough to know that nothing in Hawkins was ever normal. So when the new king of the school starts dropping by your trailer at ungodly hours, you don’t even blink - why would you? Weirder shit’s happened here, and you’re certainly not complaining either, not when the king decides to get on his knees for you.

Warnings: swearing, smut, dom!reader, reader has an undefined hole, p in said undefined hole, sub!billy, oral (reader receiving), frottage(?), edging, praise, little bits of degradation (reader calls billy “slut” and talks condescendingly at some points), unsafe sex (wrap it before you tap it kids!!), a lil bit of a breeding kink, billy likes when reader pulls on his hair <3

Let me know if you think I missed anything!!

All characters are over 18 :)

Oh my god anon I didn’t know I needed sub!billy until you sent this in and now I’m scouring the website for more… I’m a whore for subby men, what can I say 🤷 He’s a little ooc but I firmly believe that billy is secretly a soft with people he trusts - sure, he’s mean to max, but I think that’s because he doesn’t want her involved in his life of alcohol and flirting - and I’ll die on that hill. This is set between S2 and S3, but in my universe billy doesn’t die during S3 anyways because I’m the author and I said so >:O Anyways, I had so much fun writing this, thank you for the request!! It takes like 1000 words to get to the smut, I’m so sorry ;-; But the smut is like 2000 some words, so hopefully that makes up for it ahaha I went batshit

– – –

You’ve lived in this dinghy trailer park in the middle of nowhere, Indiana, your entire conscious life. When your parents were really drunk (which, in all honesty, was far more often than you were willing to admit) they would talk about their “golden days”: when your parents were something other than full-time alcoholics, living in the suburbs of Cleveland in a nice neighbourhood. You were told you were born there, in that nice suburb house near the coast of one of the great lakes, but you’ve never had the nerve to ask what happened that landed them here, in Hawkins. 

But Ohio was none of your concern now. There were supernatural beings practically on your doorstep and the only people that seemed to care were the children that your friend Steve seemingly adopted, which would make for a good movie. But the fact that a ragtag bunch of kids were the ones saving your very real world left a nauseating pit in your stomach. Sure, the angry buzz cut kid who they called “Eleven” put an end to the last thing that came after Hawkins, but something tells you this was just the beginning. No matter. At the moment, you had bigger things to worry about. Like the fact that there’s a soft knocking on your door, despite the little analog clock reading a blinking “2:34am”.

Peering through the peephole, a clearly drunk Billy Hargrove stood, wobbling slightly. You’d seen him around school - it’s hard not to when he drives a flashy car and insists on poking at Steve - but certainly hadn’t spoken to him before. Opening the door slightly, you make eye contact with the man in question.

“Hi,” you say, tentatively. “Can I help you?”

“l/n!!” he slurs, eyes lighting up. “What’re y’doin in my trailer?”

You frown at him. “This is where I live, dipshit. Your trailer is more than a few down.”

“Mmm, I don’t think so,” he said, nudging at you. “Lemme in, will ya?”

You stood firm, skeptical. “Why should I?”

“Because,” he drawls. “You’re pretty, I’m pretty, we should do pretty people stuff together.”

You snort, but move to the side. You didn’t know what his home life was like, but, nevertheless, sending him away in the middle of the night, piss drunk, was dumb. If he had gotten hurt on the way back to his trailer because you had sent him away you would never forgive yourself. Sure, he seemed like a pretentious douchebag, but even pretentious douchebags deserve a chance. Besides, the ‘rents were out, which meant there wouldn’t be any “did you use protection?” or “you aren’t pregnant, are you?” questions the following morning.

“l/n,” Billy whined out, making you turn in time to see him flop onto your couch. “Why aren’t we doin’ pretty people stuff yet?”

You shut and lock the door, plopping yourself down on the floor in front of the couch in an attempt to set an unspoken boundary. “Because you’re drunk. You’re welcome to come over here sober some time and try this whole song and dance then, but I believe in full consent when doin’ that tango. You’re inebriated, so no ‘pretty people stuff’ for you tonight.”

He whined dramatically. “But that’s half the fun of getting drunk!!”

“God, you’re really drunk,” you say, wrinkling your nose at the smell. “We can talk if you want, but you’re not getting any tonight, lover boy.”

“Ooooh, you wanna hear about the crazy shit that Tina did at the party today??” – – – 

This became a recurring event. Billy would go out and party, then come over, drunk out of his mind and strangely soft. You had learned a lot about him - about Max (who he seemed to truly care about, despite how he acted when sober), about his dickhead father, about his mother, about why he drowned himself in people and alcohol all the time. You weren’t sure why he chose to keep dropping by, but you weren’t too perturbed. In any other situation, you might even consider him your friend. But, you remind yourself, he’s always drunk or high or some combination of the two. You don’t make friends when you’re drunk. And you certainly don’t fall for them, either.

A knock resonated at your door and you froze, staring at the clock. It was 3:24pm on a Saturday afternoon, unless Steve had decided to give you a surprise visit there should be no one at the door.

“l/n! Open the goddamn door,” a voice rang out, one that you recognized immediately. “I don’t have all goddamn day!”

You stumble to the door, opening it embarrassingly quickly. “Hi???”

“Hey,” he said, shoving his way past you.

“Wait wait wait,” you said, spinning around to him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What I normally do, dickbag,” Billy said, refusing to make eye contact. “We gonna talk or what?”

You close the door gently, clicking the lock almost tentatively. “You’re sober.”

A flash of hurt crossed his face, but he quickly covered it up. “Am I not allowed to be?”

“That - that’s not what I’m saying!” you exclaimed, exasperated. “I just - I kinda figured you didn’t want to talk to me, normally. I’m not exactly your usual crowd.”

He groaned, running a hand over his face. “Look - how do I say this? I… don’t think you’re that shitty, or whatever. Sure, Tina’s a hot piece of ass, but if I tried to actually, I don’t fucking know, talk to her, she’d just laugh and tell me to ‘shut up’ or somethin’.”

“I don’t think you’re that shitty, either,” you say, slowly. “Is that all you wanted to talk about…? We could’ve done this on the porch.”

“It’s a trailer, there’s no goddamn porch,” he deadpans, rolling his eyes but still not making eye contact with you.

“You’re dodging,” you say, walking over to him and crowding him a bit. “What’s up, buttercup?”

“I don’t want to go back home,” he said bluntly, still dodging your prying eyes. “Deadbeat dad is on a rampage again. Dropped Max off at the arcade and found myself here.”

You blink up at him and back up a bit, feeling awful for prying. “Shit man - sorry I pushed you. You’re welcome here whenever you want to escape your place, sober or not. Or if you just want to come over. You can bring Max, too, she seems nice!! My ‘rents are never around, like ever, and even when they are they’re drunk and hiding in their room, and there’s a key under the doormat in the back if you need an escape and I’m not here - though I’d be careful about my parents, they get pretty drunk sometimes too, it’s not pretty. That’s not the point though! Point is, you’re always welcome, I’m sorry for prying-”

He pushed you to the couch, a small smile on his face, and were his eyes a little teary?? “Shut up, loser. I got it, I’m welcome to be here. Not shocked, though, people love me, of course you’d want me around.”

You roll your eyes at his smirk, trying to tug him down to the couch. However, you hadn’t anticipated him resisting, and your knee jerk reaction was to just yank. He stumbled and landed on top of you, knees straddling your legs. He blinks at you, owlishly, face flushed and pupils beginning to dilate.

You grin up at him, jokingly winking. “Just where I wanted you, baby.”

“Can I- can I take you up on your previous offer?” he said, voice lacking its usual bravado and confidence. 

“Previous offer as in…?”

“Sex,” he said, straightforward. “You said if I was sober we could fuck.”

“What eloquence, Mr. Hargrove,” you said. “And I believe we referred to it as ‘pretty people stuff.’”

“That’s a yes, yeah?” he said, hands resting on the couch on either side of your head.

“Aw, look at you, asking for consent,” you said, grinning up at him deviously. “Mmm…maybe if you beg me.”

He looked at you, incredulous. “If you think I’ll ever beg for something, you’ve got something coming-”

You cut him off, pulling him down into a harsh kiss. He groaned into the kiss, grinding down into your clothed sex. When he pulls away, he smirks down at you, cocky.

“You’re going to be the one begging for me, babe,” he said, head tilting. “So how ‘bout we hear it, hm?”

Well that wouldn’t do. Using all your strength, you flip your positions, grinding down on him once you’ve settled above him.

“If we’re doing this, baby boy,” you said, sultry. “We’re doing this my way, got it?”

You could see the struggle in his eyes, and began to grind down on him lightly. 

“Come on, sweet thing,” you murmured against his lips, rolling your hips in a way that had his eyes rolling back. “You can be good for me, can’t you?”

“Mm- yeah, yes, I can be good for you,” he groaned. “Now get on with it, will you?”

You frown at him, faux pouting. “Thought you were gonna be good. But that’s fine, we can play that game, I don’t mind.”

He opened his mouth to object but was cut off when your grinding turned harsh and fast, his words turning into a breathy moan. He slapped a hand over his mouth but you weren’t having it.

“Listen here, Hargrove,” you growled. “You’re going to let me hear those pretty little sounds or you’re not going to come. Understand?”

“No way in hell-”

You reach a hand down to his straining cock and squeeze, hard, revelling in the way his head rolls back and his hips jerk up into your hand. His mouth opens and closes uselessly, and you lean your weight onto your knees so you can shove your fingers that aren’t cradling his cock right down his throat. He gags, eyes glazed and unfocused.

“God, look at you,” you groan, voice strained. “Made for this, made for me to use, huh?”

He tries to respond but all that comes out are choked moans, drool dribbling down his chin as he gags on your fingers. You other hand kickstarts, rubbing him not-so-nicely through his pants. He looked gorgeous like this: choking on your fingers, eyes unfocused, hips bucking uncontrollably into your harsh touches. God, you just want to drown yourself in the feeling of the power you had over this man, this man who insisted on so much control in his everyday life. But here he was, on your couch, gagging on your fingers like he never wanted anything else. 

His bucking gets more erratic and his breaths get shorter, signalling an incoming orgasm. You paw at his cock a little harder, removing your fingers from down his throat so you could hear him when you tear his orgasm away from him.

“You wanna cum, baby?” you coo, letting your hips take over for your hand and grinding down on his clothed erection. “Wanna cum for me?”

“Yeah - gonna cum, gonna cum, let me cum-”

“No.”

His hips jolt upwards as you lift yourself from his lap, chasing after your heat. You smirk sadistically at him, chuckling at the glare he gives you in exchange for your denial.

“What the fuck?!” he yells, hands clenching at his sides (but not moving to change his predicament, you noted). “I was so fucking close, why would you-”

You put a finger on his lips, shushing him. “You were a brat earlier, so I’m treating you like one. Maybe if you get me off I will consider letting you come.”

“Yeah?” he said, still panting from his lost orgasm. “Yeah, I can fuckin’ do that.”

“Good,” you say, getting up. “Get on your knees in front of the couch.”

He snorted at first, but his face contorted when he realised you were serious. “You’ve got to be kidding me, right? You’re not going to get me on my knees, sweetheart.”

“Then you’re not going to cum,” you said matter-of-factly. “Eat me out on your knees like the little slut you are or you don’t get to cum.”

His nose scrunched up angrily but he moved to get down in front of the couch. “There. That make your sick little heart happy?”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a mouthy brat we wouldn’t be here in the first place,” you said, discarding your pants and undergarments god knows where. “Don’t touch without permission, m’kay?”

He growled but kept his hands obediently at his side. In spite of all his back talk, Billy didn’t ever make a move to take control. He wants this, you realise, but he doesn’t want to admit it.

“How cute,” you coo, pinching his cheek as you settle yourself in front of him. “Now eat me out - no hands though, baby. Just put your pretty little mouth to better use for me, mhm?”

He begrudgingly folds his hands behind his back and buries himself in your hole. Your head rolls back, a low groan escaping your mouth. If he wasn’t drowning himself in you he might see your composure slipping, but he seemed just as out of it as you. Hips jerking up into nothing, hands clasped behind his back, face red and teary, Billy looked like so fucking good that you felt yourself clenching around his tongue, rolling your hips into his lapping. 

“God… so good with that tongue, baby, shit - keep doing that, y-yeah, just like that,” you blabber out, a hand flying to grip at his hair. You give an experimental tug and grin when he moans, breathy and high. 

“Y-yeah? You want me to tug on your - ngh - hair? Shove you deeper into me?” you say, chuckling lowly when he nods into you. “Your wish is my command, sweet thing.”

You could feel your orgasm drawing nearer as Billy’s talented tongue ruined your insides. His movements were precise, even without the use of his hands, and when he nicked your sweet spot you came, clamping your thighs around his head as you tugged harshly on his hair. 

Panting, you try to regain enough composure to address Billy. “God, sweetheart, your so fucking good with your tongue.”

“Yeah?” he said, tone cocky despite the straining bulge in his jeans. “You gonna let me use you now? I know you want it darlin’, you can’t keep pretending to have contr - mph!”

You yanked him up in a kiss, effectively shutting him up. Your legs were a little shaky from your previous orgasm but you were stubborn: there’s no way in hell after all this you would give Billy the satisfaction of fucking into you.

“Get on the goddamn couch,” you said, panting as you pulled away. “I’m going to ride you until all you can think of is me.”

“Fuck, pretty thing,” he groans, dropping onto the couch. “You better hold true to that or I might have to take over.”

“If you think you have a say in how this goes you’re dead wrong,” you said, straddling his hips. “You don’t cum until I say, got it baby?”

“Easy peasy,” he said, ever the fucking brat. “Think you can hold it sweets? Because I can guarantee that you’ll be creaming around my cock in no time.”

“Mhm,” you murmur, unimpressed as you help him wiggle out of his jeans and underwear. “Whatever you need to help you sleep at night.”

“You scared you can’t take it - shit!” he moans, cock twitching as you sink down on him in one slide. “Fuck, you gotta give a man a warning-”

You don’t. Bouncing up and down on his cock at a harsh pace, your trailer is filled with the lewd sound of skin slapping skin. You’re sure the neighbours can tell what you two are doing - hell, the whole trailer park probably knew - but you didn’t have the heart to care. His cock stretched you wide, so goddamn girthy that every bounce had white bouncing at the edge of your vision. 

Billy wasn’t much better. He had a death grip on your hips, finger-shaped bruises already forming. Tongue sticking out, eye half-lidded and staring up at you reverently, Billy was a fucked out mess already and you’d just started.

“Mmngh, feelin’ good, pretty boy? God… just look at you, takin’ - ungh - t-takin’ it so goddamn well, shit,” you said, still slamming yourself down on his cock like your life depended on it. 

“Mmm, fuck, please, please please please-” 

You couldn’t even tell what he was begging for anymore. “What do you - ngh - what do you need, babe - fuck, just like that pretty thing - huh? Got to be specific, darlin’ - god…”

“Cum,” he moans out, eyes shut tightly as he bucks into you. “Need t’ fuckin’ cum!”

You clench around him as he bucks, eyes rolling back a bit. “Ngh, yeah? You wanna cum? Wanna fill my pretty little hole - ahn, do that again, jesus - fill my pretty little hole with your cum?”

“Yeah, shit. Gonna let me?”

“Mhmm, I don’t know…” you said, pretending to ponder like you weren’t desperate to feel him fill you up. “Have you been - jesus fucking christ - have you been good?”

“‘ve been good!!” he wails, eyes teary as he stares up at you. “Been so good, such a good boy, please let me cum, please, jus’ wanna be you good boy, please please please!”

Your eyes roll back. Fuck, you hadn’t expected him to beg in return. Slowing down a bit, your bounces send him slow and deep, causing you to clench. His eyes cross and his grip on the couch turns his knuckles white, trying so goddamn hard to hold himself back.

“You can cum,” you groan, his cock rutting against your sweet spot just right. “You can cum, baby, cum with me, want you to cum with me-”

Your vision goes white and you clench, gripping his cock harshly. He near screams, fucking himself up into you as he came. You both melt into each other, a panting, post-orgasm mess tangled on the couch. When your brain was finally back online, you winch, gently sliding his softened cock out of you.

“Fuck, really did a number on me,” Billy murmured, ragdolled on the couch looking like he never wanted to move. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Fuck off, Hargrove,” you say, trying your best to walk (or waddle, rather) your way to the kitchen to start cleaning off.

“You love me and you know it!”

You roll your eyes, grabbing a washcloth and dampening it. God, he was such a doofus. You couldn’t believe that the rest of the school considered him the king, but maybe your friendship was something special. You sure hoped so - you were certain he wasn’t just submitting himself to anyone, after all. 

“Where the fuck did you go, dickhead? The great Billy Hargrove demands cuddles!”

God, he was such a dork sometimes. You snort, but make your way back to the living room, water bottle and damp washcloth in hand. 

“Have patience, great Billy,” you said, handing him the water bottle before gently cleaning him up. “Great things come for those who wait.”

“Oh shut up,” he said, melting into your touch. “I didn’t come here for you to philosophise.”

“Course, course,” you say, jokingly. “Okay, all done. Let’s pick up all our shit and go to my room, yeah? Really don’t want my parents to come home and find us naked in the living room.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re boring,” he jokes, wobbly as he stands to help you grab your discarded clothes. “Half the fun is getting caught.”

“Perv,” you shot back.

“Says the one who rode me on their parents' couch.”

“Ew!! Don’t fucking say that, I don’t want to think about my parents in the afterglow!”

“You’re the one who brought them up!” “Yeah, because I don’t want them involved in my post-orgasmic haze!!” you say, exasperated. “Cmon, this way.”

Dumping your clothes unceremoniously on the floor, you lock the door and drag Billy towards your bed. Wordlessly, the two of you melt into each other. You’d worry about sneaking him out under your parents’ radar later - right now, you had much more pressing concerns.

Word Count: 3374

Movie Night for Two (Can I Call it a Date?) (SFW)

Summary: Steve can't make movie night - normally you’d be sad but alone time with the girl of your dreams is just what you're looking for.

Warnings: swearing, confessions, vague hints at past homophobia, fem!reader

Let me know if you think I missed anything!!

All characters are over 18 :)

Steve Harrington is a good wingman ;) Considering making a second part where Robin and reader get it on… lmk if that’s an interest :P

– – –

Honestly, you were kind of pissed at Steve. After the embarrassment he was when applying to Family Video alongside you and Robin, you had organized a weekly movie night to “inject some culture into his veins” (Robin’s words, not yours). Now you're here, alone with the girl you've been crushing on for ages, and the only warning you get from Steve is a phone call saying he “can't make it”. No explanation, no reason, no nothing. If this was Steve’s way of telling you to make a move you swear you're going to stab him through the next time you see him.

Despite all the angry feelings you were currently harboring for Steve, a little part of you couldn't help but be grateful. Alone time!! With Robin!!! it was screaming like you weren't already hyper aware of the scenario you've gotten yourself into.

“-lo? Helloooo, y/n, you in there?? Yoo hoo, this is Robin, calling from planet Ear-”

You flail at her, face flushing. 

“Hello, commander Robin,” you say, making a face at her, “How can I help you?”

Trying her best to hold back a smile, she responds, “Well, cadet, I was asking a certain someone if they wanted to watch the movie, but for some reason they seemed to have found their way out of the atmosphere and into lala land.”

You blink back at her, a little shocked you missed it. “Yeah, I'd love to. Sorry I'm space-y, I'm just pissed that Steve ditched last minute.”

An unreadable look crossed her face before she stuck her bottom lip out, faking a pout. “How dare he. Doesn't he want to spend the night with two gorgeous ladies and watch an incredible movie?”

You both snort, and she motions you towards the couch, where a plethora of snacks are already strewn about. You plop on the couch next to her and let out a little sigh, reveling in the way her face scrunched up when she was focused. 

Cheering when the movie finally slid in, Robin sank into the couch next to you. Children of Paradise was one of Robin’s favorite movies (you had watched it with her about a thousand times) but you couldn't bring yourself to stare at anything but her. Even in her dumb pajama set and no makeup, Robin was stunning. You felt a little guilty not watching the screen - Robin loved this movie, and sharing it was clearly important to her, even if she had already made you watch it on repeat - but the light from the TV practically made her glow, and you didn’t realize she had noticed until she started making faces at you.

“I swear if you just missed the best scene in the movie because you’re staring at me-”

“I’m not staring!!” you retort, continuing to stare. “I’m just… admiring, is all.”

She snorted, but the flush that overtook the rise of her cheekbones indicated that she didn’t seem to mind. “Whatever, dorkus. That just means you have to watch it again next week when we tie Steve up so he can’t ditch us again.”

“Of course, of course,” you said, sending her a grin. “As you wish, m’lady.”

She gasped, throwing a hand to her chest. “M’lady? What am I, some sort of dashing young damsel?”

“Uh, duh,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I wouldn’t fall in love with just anyone, y’know.”

She whipped her head in your direction, blinking rapidly. Shit, that was not supposed to come out of your mouth. “You’re just my best friend and I love you very much- like platonically!! And sometimes words come out wrong, and I can’t control my brain - like right now - and I’ll accidentally say something that offends the other person and I’m so sorry and-”

“Would you say that to Steve, ‘accidentally?’” Robin said, staring you dead in the eyes. “Or would you mean it when you said it to him?”

It was your turn to blink at her. “If you think I have any intention of hitting on Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington I’d like to remind you that our relationship is platonic, like platonic-”

“-with a capital P, I know,” she said, looking away. “‘m sorry, I got carried away, let’s just finish the movie.”

Her eyes flicked back to the screen, but even you could tell she wasn’t paying any attention. You fidget, unsure. Steve had been telling you for weeks to confess to her and get it out.

“If she says no at least you’ll know,” he’d said, like it was the easiest thing to confess to someone of the same sex who could potentially never talk to you ever again. You’d moved cities to escape rumors and hatred, you had reminded him at the time. Asking a lady out also meant coming out, and you were starting to like your Hawkins friend group, thank you very much.

Your eyes flicker back to Robin, who looked just as uncomfortable as you felt. Fuck it, you thought, I came out to Steve motherfucking Harrington, this is nothing.

Except it was something. Because, sure, coming out to the stereotype of ‘straight white boy’ wasn’t a walk in the park, but this was your dream girl for fuck’s sake. 

“Hey, Robin?” you whisper, testing the waters. “Yeah?” she whispered back, uncharacteristically quiet.

“I meant it,” you said, a little more confidently. “I meant what I said earlier.”

She stiffened, and you felt panic bubble in your stomach, but you refused to let that stop you. “I don’t understand-”

“Yes, you do,” you said, staring her right in the eyes. “Robin Buckley, I’m in love with you. And I know it’s not ‘normal,’ or whatever, to like girls, but I can’t help it, and if you never want to talk to me ever again, I understand, and honestly I can’t believe I told Steve before I told you-”

“Steve knows?” she shrieked, like that was the most appalling part of your whole monologue. “Steve knows and he didn’t even try to tell me you liked me back?? That two-timer! That ungrateful sack of shit! I dropped all those Nancy hints for him and he didn’t even give me a hint!!”

Time stopped. She gawked at you, flushing under your gaze. “...back?”

“Uhm, yeah, haha, I super-like girls too, y’know, just a big ol’ lady lover-”

You reach across the couch and pull her closer to you and she stops, staring up at you. You run a thumb over her lips, and she nods like her life depends on it, letting you lead her into a kiss. While it didn’t feel like fireworks like the movies pretend it does, kissing Robin was like coming home after months of being away. It felt safe. Like nothing else mattered. Like there wasn’t a kid with superpowers and giant demon-like creatures out to get her. Like maybe your life might actually be going somewhere.

She pulled back, a cunning grin on her face. “Me thinks Stevie-poo owes Dustin twenty dollars.”

You snort, knowing exactly where this was heading. “They were betting on us and you knew about it??”

“Correction,” she said, booping your nose. “They were betting on you confessing to this ‘mystery person who you totally know Robin but we can’t tell you’- wait, does that mean that Dustin knew before me too??”

“He’s always with Steve!!” you say, face bright red. “And I mean I’ve been part of this psycho babysitter club thing we have going forever, he’s like a little brother to me.”

“Oh my god,” she murmured, giggling. “We’re so stupid.” “The dumbest,” you agreed. “Want to make up for lost time?”

“Are you kidding?” she said, grinning. “Hell yeah I do.”

Word Count: 1289

!!!!!!!

#LADsMultiBoycott: Enough Is Enough – It’s Time to Stand Together

“We don’t hate the game—we love it enough to want better.”

Over the past few weeks, the community has been buzzing over translated leaks and rumors surfacing on Xiaohongshu (小红书) and Twitter that point to a disturbing trend in Love and Deepspace (LADs). The upcoming multi-banner—whether it turns out to be the anticipated Spring or Wedding multi—will once again feature long hairstyles separated from their outfits. Yes, again. After all the outcry. After all the feedback. We're here once more.

Let me be blunt: we can’t keep going like this. We can’t keep hoping CN girlies will save us every time. We can’t keep spending in good faith when Infold continues to exploit our loyalty and silence our voices. We can’t keep pretending that fan art and cute trailers make up for broken promises and paywalled aesthetics.

It’s time for us to join together, across servers, communities, and fandoms. It's not about Sylus mains vs Caleb mains vs the OG3. We're all getting burned by the same fire.

💥 What We Know From the Leaks

According to reliable sources:

The upcoming banner after Sylus’s Birthday Event might be another multi-banner format, either Spring or Wedding.

Long hairstyles will be separated from the outfits and placed in a separate crate—again.

This structure mirrors gacha mechanics where full outfits demand 140+ pulls, stretching across 5-star parts like socks, pants, accessories, and hair.

These decisions appear to be influenced by monetization models similar to Infinity Nikki, prioritizing profit over playability or fairness.

📢 So What Are We Doing About It?

We are organizing under #LADsMultiBoycott to push back against these predatory changes. This isn’t just a tantrum. It’s a coordinated protest.

🔥 Our Demands:

Six-month roadmaps to ensure transparency and accountability.

Higher resource drops from the highest-tier Bounty/Core Hunt.

Stop separating hairstyles from outfits in banners.

New sources of diamond income (no more stagnant gem economy).

No spending for the first 3 days of the banner. Use only your saved-up diamonds.

File official complaints to show Infold that this matters. Email:

loveanddeepspace-en@infoldgames.com

support-EN@infoldgames.com

🧠 Strategy: What You Can Do

Here’s what our global LADs family is doing:

1. No Spending for Entire Banner Period

Even if you have funds set aside, hold them. Don’t top up. Don’t feed the system that’s disrespecting your playtime and wallet.

2. Delay Your Pulls

Do not pull in the first 3 days. Choose your LI in the pool, then log out. Let the data show decreased first-week participation.

3. Minimal Screen Time

Yes, log in for dailies, but keep your session short, especially for iOS users. Play Store and App Store algorithms track usage data. Reduced screen time:

Hurts engagement metrics.

Lowers game ranking.

Cuts ad revenue.

4. No Banner Fanart for First Few Days

As painful as it is to hide our beautiful boys, let’s not unintentionally trigger FOMO. Fanart drives hype—hold off until after the peak revenue period.

5. Only Use Android if Possible

App Store rankings are disproportionately influenced by iOS user engagement. Reducing iOS traffic matters more than you think.

🌎 A Global Movement: We’re Not Alone

Our fellow players in China have already shaken Infold’s confidence.

CN revenue dropped by 42.2% from Nov 2024 to March 2025 (from $100M to $57.8M).

Global rankings dropped, while games like Genshin and Wuthering Waves soared.

Their success in the "stop-spending-money" campaign proved one thing: boycotts work.

If they can do it, so can we.

✊ This Is About More Than Just One Banner

Infold believes that as long as they release a sexy card, we’ll cave. They believe we don’t talk to each other. That we’re divided by LI bias and language barriers. But what they don’t see is how deeply connected we’ve become as a fandom.

We aren’t asking for perfection. We’re asking for respect.

If we let this multi go unchallenged, it sets a dangerous precedent:

Separated hairstyles in multi-banners like this become normalized.

Resources remain stagnant.

Paywalls keep climbing.

F2P and low-spenders are permanently excluded.

💡 Why Minimal Playtime Matters

Some of you might be thinking, “But this won’t work?” And here’s why it will:

“Why Cutting Screen Time Works” – The Breakdown

Engagement metrics tank. App Store/Play Store ranks games by DAU, session length, etc.

Revenue drops. Less screen time = fewer ad views = less money.

Rankings slide. Visibility goes down, leading to even fewer players.

It sends a message. A sharp drop in playtime can’t be ignored by business analysts.

💬 “But What If Infold Cancels the Game?”

They won’t. That’s just fear-mongering.

If a company is willing to kill its own cash cow just because fans want better—then it was never worth our support to begin with. But more importantly: they won’t kill it. They’ve seen that the game can pull millions. They’ll just need to earn it now.

🧱 We’re Building Something Bigger

This isn’t just about LADs. It’s about every gacha game that’s begun preying on its fans. If we roll over here, what message are we sending to WuWa, HSR, ZZZ, GI, and the rest?

We all have that one game we ride or die for. But loving a game doesn’t mean blind loyalty. Criticism is love in action.

🧩 TL;DR: How You Can Help

❌ Don’t spend money on the next multi-banner

🕒 Log in for dailies only, pick your LI, then log off

🎨 Hold off on banner fanart for a few days

📉 Reduce iOS activity as much as possible

💌 Email: loveanddeepspace-en@infoldgames.com support-EN@infoldgames.com

🗣️ Spread awareness under #LADsMultiBoycott

Even if you’re the only one on your server, know that you’re not alone. We’re tired, we’re frustrated—but we’re not powerless.

Let’s stop funding our own oppression.

No fair treatment = no money. Let them earn it.

Resources:

Revenue Trends: Ennead Data

Reddit Info Post: Sylus Girlies PSA

XHS Links: Source 1, Source 2

Hey chat so my computer is unfortunately super dead!!! Currently working on a solution but no post this sunday 💔 I have something COOKING though so I promise new writing will drop when I get a new computer!

Side Effects (NSFW)

Guys I’m so sorry I know I disappeared forever ago but I am back! I updated my page, and I look forward to writing for all you lovely people again! I’m back on my same old shit (absolutely vile dom!reader smut) so I hope you’re ready >:) This one's a little softer because I think Nanami deserves a bit of a soft!dom...I hope you enjoy! Feeling a little rusty so sorry if this isn't my best work :/

Summary: Your boyfriend has been on edge recently - most likely due to a rapid increase in curses over the last few weeks - so when you get a call from Shoko, you assume the worst. Lucky for you both, he’s not dead. However, she informs you that he’s experiencing some strange side effects, so you find yourself rushing to Jujutsu Tech to deal with a rather unfortunate… problem.

Warnings: swearing, smut, dom!reader, reader has a vagina, p in said v, subby!nanami, sex pollen/sex curse, semi-breeding kink, nanami gets his shit rocked, begging, overstimulation (reader and nanami receiving), unsafe sex (wrap your wee-wee please), a bit praise, nanami calls reader wife once

Let me know if you think I missed anything!!

All characters are over 18 :)

– – – 

Bzzt, Bzzt!

You groan, eyes tearing away from the screen in front of you. Life had been in a bit of a slog recently - with your boyfriend constantly away on missions and you trapped at your boring desk job, a phone call was a welcome reprieve. What was odd was the fact that your phone was ringing at all - the only calls that can get through when your phone is silenced is your parents, Nanami, and -

Shoko.

Bright letters flash at the top of your screen as you scramble away in a hurry, phone in hand. You mumble some half-assed excuse as you fly out the doors of the office, keys already in hand, and shakily answer the call.

“Shoko? Is everything okay?” you force out, nearly slipping as you speed-walk to the car. “Is he okay?”

“It’s Nanami,” she says, panic evident in her voice. “He came back from a mission today, won’t stop asking for you. I can’t quite get a read on what he got hit with yet, and I’ve never seen him like this, is there any chance you-”

“I’m already in the car, I’m on my way,” you confirm. “He’s okay, though? No obvious signs of injury?”

“Nothing physical, no,” she says, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. “But something’s still clearly wrong, and having you here might help me analyse it. Clearly he’s been hit by some effect of the curse, I’ve never seen this man frantic like this in my life.”

“I’ll be there soon as I can. Call me if you have any updates.”

Shoko hums a confirmation and hangs up, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Your grip on the steering wheel tightens, and you take in a shaky breath. What could possibly be wrong? Why did your boyfriend need you, right this instant? At the very least, Shoko didn’t seem to think it was life threatening, but what relief was that? Being a sorcerer was dangerous, hell, that was why you and Nanami had quit in the first place, but you always knew he couldn’t avoid the call of it for long. You prayed that whatever this was would be out of his system in no time.

You take the turn into Jujutsu Tech far faster than you should, haphazardly parking your car. You think you hear the beep! of your car locking, but all you can really hear in your head is the pounding of your heart. Weaving across the grounds, you rush to Shoko’s office, almost barreling into her when you throw the door open.

“Where is he? Is he okay? You didn’t call me again so I assume it’s fine, but-”

“Hey, breath,” she says, oddly calm considering her call earlier. “I figured out the issue.”

“You did?” you exclaim, a little frustrated she didn’t call you. It must not be serious if she didn’t call, but still! She could’ve at least sent a text…

She wiggles her eyebrows at you, a smirk growing on her face. “You guys have to bang.”

“What??” you flush, throwing your arms up. “S-shoko, this isn’t the time for jokes-”

“Not a joke,” she says with a grin, making crude gestures with her hand. “You guys have to bang it out of his system. Fuck. Two-man tango. ‘Make love’, or whatever. Not the worst curse to get hit by, huh?”

“You had me all worried for nothing!” you groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “I thought he was injured, or worse, dying! I could be at work right now, I didn’t even clock out! God, I’m going to be in so much shit when I get back.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. He needs your help,” she explains with a sigh. “The gas that the curse released from its body works as an aphrodisiac, a deadly one. If he doesn’t, uhm…‘mate’ any time soon it could be lethal.”

You flush deeper, blinking at her owlishly. You waited, hoping she was joking, but she was clearly dead serious. “Where is he?”

“He’s got his own room, all the way down on the left,” she sighed, rubbing her temples. “Don’t ruin my equipment, you hear me?”

You salute, grinning at her, “Aye aye, captain!”

She rolls her eyes, watching you go. It’s going to be a long shift, she thought, rubbing her temples once again. They don’t pay me nearly enough for this.

You make your way down the hall, fluorescent lights flickering above your head. It smelled like chemicals and death down her, a terrible combo. You wrinkle your nose. How does Shoko put up with this all day, every day?

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t even realise that you’re at the end of the hall until you hear it. Frantic, almost manic, heavy breathing from the door on your left. You gulp, rubbing your thighs together. Fuck, in all your time with your boyfriend, you’ve never heard him this desperate before. Like the world was going to end if he didn’t get his dick wet. Lord, you haven’t even seen him yet, and you’re already soaking through your underwear, you can feel it. Tugging on the hem of your sleeve, you nervously raise a hand to knock on the door.

“Kento…?” you startle at the sound he lets out at the sound of your voice. It sounded like…a whine?

“Darling, ooh, darling,” he groans, pitchier than you’ve ever heard him. “You shouldn’t be here, love, get out of here.”

“Ken, honey, I can’t just leave you like this-”

“Please, before I do something I regret, you have to go- hngh!”

There’s a wet splatter on the other side of the door, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. You freeze momentarily, not wanting to believe it.

“Ken, did you just…?”

“Fuck, darling, you don’t know what you do to me,” he groans out. You can hear it now - how he’s rutting into his hand on the other side of the door. The wet shlick of dick sliding in his hand, the way he didn’t stop, even after he came. And he’s certainly never swore this early on, before he’s had your hands on you.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” you say, fingers finding the buttons of your shirt frantically. You don’t care that you’re in the hallway, you don’t care that Shoko’s just down the hall - there’s nothing in your head but the needy sounds of your boyfriend on the other side of the door.

“Please, you have to leave-”

“Open the door, honey,” you say, voice syrupy and sweet. “Want you to fill me up so good, can you do that? For me?”

You hear a quiet “Fuck!” from behind the door and the door handle rattles as he struggles to open it in his haze. At this point, you’re dripping, and you reach a hand out to help him. Easing the door open, you can feel the heat coming off of Nanami in waves. There’s a heady scent of pure sex in the air, and you don’t get a chance to take him in before he’s closing the door and trapping you against it.

“You shouldn’t be here, love,” he murmurs against your neck, hot breath tickling your ear. “Please, go before I lose control.”

Without hesitating, you pull him back by the hair and smash your lips to his. He’s motionless against you, for a moment, before his lips slot against you frantically. His hands come to grope your sides, mean and careless with his touch. He slots his legs between yours almost absentmindedly, and his hips begin to cant against you.

You separate, panting. “So desperate you’re already humping my leg like a slut?”

He flushes, slowing his hips down. You could feel his cock twitch against you, and you grin up at his dishevelled state. He’s a wreck - his tie pulled loose from his neck, the first few buttons of his shirt undone, his pants not even off, just hanging loosely around his ankles - and you’re grateful, for a moment, for the curse that hit him. 

“S-sorry, love,” he breathes, barely more than a whisper. “Can’t control it, please, need you, need you so bad- mngh, fuck!”

You grin, lazily palming his angry cock. “Oh, honey, I’ll help you out. Think you can get on the bed for me?”

He nods, whining softly when he pulls away from your hand. He stumbles over to the bed, losing his pants along the way. He sits and looks at you expectantly, flushed all the way down his neck. His hands are shaking from how much he’s holding back, and he bites his lip so hard it bleeds as you walk over, stripping as you approach. Ever the gentleman, he doesn’t reach out and touch, though it’s clear that he wants to. But right now, you’re in control, and even with the heat coursing through his veins, he lets you take what you want from him.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you say, voice thick with need. “Gonna let me ride your cock? Let you fill me up, breed me?”

“God, darling,” he says with a groan, a bead of precum running down his angry cock. “Want to fill your pussy up, put my kids in you, make you nice and round- mmph!”

You slam your lips to his, guiding him to lay back on the bed. You throw your legs on either side of his and grind down hard, smiling against his lips at the way his hips twitch up against yours. You reach back, fumbling to grip his cock and guide it to your waiting hole. You’re soaking, and there’s a wet shlick as sink down to the base of his cock.

“Shit, fuck, sorry, honey-” His hands find the plush of your hips, and he holds you down as he cums, hot and warm inside you. Your surprised laugh quickly morphs into a moan as you feel him fill you. It’s neverending - you’re certain he’s never come this much in one go before - and you quickly regain your senses, grinding your hips in slow circles, riding him through his orgasm. His eyes are squeezed shut, and his back is arched as he twitches, but he never softens inside you.

“Already came again?” you mock, looking down at him condescendingly as he blinks back into reality. “Some curse you got hit with, must feel so good to let go, huh, baby?”

“C-couldn’t help it, fuck!” he stammers out, hips bucking into your slow grinding. “Need it, need to cum again, need to feel you cum around me as I fuck you full, please, darling, can I?”

His eyes flick up to yours, desperation evident in his gaze. Your boyfriend, who rarely swears during sex, begging you to cum? You were certainly in no place to say no!

Without warning, you pick up the roll of your hips, holding his hips down so he can’t buck into you. He moans, flush spreading all the way down his chest. His thighs are flexing below yours, aching to buck up into you, but you won’t let him.

“If you want my help, you let me control the pace,” you bluff, trying your best to keep your head with how his tip is brushing against your sweet spot oh so sweetly. “Keep trying to buck up and I’ll leave you here to take care of your little predicament yourself.”

“No!” he pants out, frenzied. “No, please, darling, don’t go, I’ll do anything, I’ll be good for you, please-”

“Yeah?” you say, grin feral as you pick up your pace even more. You’re barely able to get words out anymore, but he’s certainly not faring any better. “G-Gonna be good for me? Gonna- hngh, fuck! - fill up my pretty pussy, give me your- ahn- give me your babies?”

He nods, hand fumbling to rub at your clit. His fingers are mean, out of control, but the rough feel of his fingers against your clit is delicious nonetheless. Your head falls forward, and your hips get frantic, pace inconsistent as heat coils in your belly. 

“Close, ‘m getting close-” you moan out. “Need you to cum with me, make me full, can you do that for me?”

“Mhmm, anything for you, love,” he says, eyes fluttering shut as he loses himself to the feeling of your gummy walls around him. “Love you, love you so much, please, can’t hold on much longer, need to cum- oogh, fuck!”

With a soft ahn, ahn, ahn, you’re cumming around him, grinding your clit down into his hands as he cums, shooting his seed deep into you. You can’t help but keep grinding down, dragging your orgasm out as long as possible. You shakily drag your hips to a stop, head falling forward to knock with his. You let out a soft breathy laugh as you swoop down to kiss him again, his cock finally starting to flag inside you. As you move to get up, he grabs your waist, wincing as he holds you on his cock.

“Sorry honey, ‘m still sensitive,” he whimpers, twitching out a few more spurts of gooey cum into you. “Can- can you sit here, for a little longer?”

“Of course, Ken,” you say, smile soft as you place a kiss against his temple. “Whatever you need. Are you feeling better?”

“A little sore, for sure,” he notes, eyes roaming up your body. “Though you’re probably hurting too, is there anything I can do for you?”

You bark out a laugh, shaking your head. Really is such a gentleman, you think as you struggle to control your face. After all that, he’s worried about me?

“I’m okay, Ken, I wasn’t the one hit with a curse, after all,” you note, hands absentmindedly running up his sides. He smiles up at you, eyes heavy with exhaustion, and pulls you down into him.

“Hey, we need to clean up-”

“Just a second, darling,” he says, yawning as he speaks. “Just need a second to hold you, that’s all.”

You melt against him, knowing that you weren’t going anywhere any time soon. As his breath steadies and he drifts under you, you trace circles on his chest, letting your heavy eyes fall closed, too. He’s right, just a second…

– – – 

You wake up with a jolt to a banging on the door, a chorus of voices on the other side.

“Nanamin, I heard you got hit by a curse, are you okay??”

“Be quiet, Itadori, he’s probably trying to rest.”

“Shut up, Fushiguro, you don’t know that-”

“Will both of you shut up?? Either way, he’s definitely awake from all the racket you’re causing-”

You groan, tuning them out as you rub the sleep from your eyes. You glance up at your boyfriend, disagreeing with Nobara - Nanami was still asleep, a little bit of drool coming out of his open mouth. You cringe as you sit up, every muscle in your body burning in protest as you disentangle yourself from Nanami. You wince as you slide off his cock, his release trickling down your leg as you make an attempt to gather dress yourself. Nanami finally stirs awake, groaning softly as his bleary eyes peel open. His eyes find yours as your fumble through the clothes on the floor, throwing his pants to him. He rubs his eyes and rolls to sit on the edge of the bed, watching you intently.

“We need to get dressed,” you say, voice scratchy with sleep. “The kids want to see you.”

“Mm, they can’t wait a little longer? I want some alone time with my wife now that I’m feeling better.”

“Your wife?” you say, grinning at him. “I know I gave you a good time, but you gotta put a ring on it first, mister.”

He laughs, pulling you against him and burying his head into your stomach. Your fingers come up to play with his hair, and he breathes you in, for a second.

Soon, he thinks. Soon I’ll put a ring on that finger.

Word Count: 2675

I'm actually going to kill myself, thanks Solmare :)))

I have SO MANY words to say about this but I don't think I can without losing it 😭 This didn't have any sort of warning at all...like you can't just put out 30 dollar dates (for only 2 of the characters, mind you) and then drop this?? It's like they wanted to milk as much money as they possibly could out of us before pulling the rug. I'm heartbroken, I'm angry, but most of all, I'm disappointed. This isn't how it should end, and I know for a fact Chapter 60 is going to just be another quickly thrown together ending. Oooooh, Solmare when I catch you Solmare...

Your taking requests? Don't mind if I do~

Please do AFAB Lucifer x AMAB Reader pls

(if you don't do AFAB characters do them normally)

Just Let Go (NSFW)

Summary: Lucifer has been holed up in his office for almost a week now - and MC has had enough. Lucifer needs a break, and a joke from Asmo turns into a perfect plan to get Lucifer to stop working. AFAB!Lucifer and AMAB!MC!!

Warnings: dom!reader, swearing, sub!lucifer, amab!reader, afab!lucifer, oral (lucifer receiving), p in v, praise, dacryphilia, use of condoms (wrap it before you tap it), hints of a breeding kink (on lucifer’s end), degradation, lucifer calls MC master once

Let me know if you think I missed anything!!

All characters are over 18 :)

My first request aaaaaaaah!! I wrote Luci as a trans male instead of just going for fem!Luci because trans people are cool 😎 I honestly got a little too into this one, but I can’t help it, Luci just does that to me sometimes. Also this is smutty, sorry if you were looking for fluff ;-; I absolutely love writing for Obey Me, please please please continue to send in requests (even if they’re for other fandoms, I'll take anything)!!

– – – 

You paced around the kitchen, completely furious. Usually Friday nights meant a chill night with one or more of the brothers but you hadn’t seen Lucifer since Sunday morning. The first few days were fine - you were used to only catching him free every once and a while due to his workload - but this was beyond unhealthy. You had staked out the kitchen today, hoping to get a word in with him when he stopped by for food but to your disappointment he never stopped in. Even his brothers hadn’t seen him, which was beginning to morph your fury into worry. 

“I dunno,” Mammon had said with a shrug. “I figured I’d see him when I snatched Goldie back - but that doesn’t matter!! I’m your first, don’t tell me you’d rather hang out with that wet rag of a demon than me!”

After reassuring Mammon that you were just worried, and that Lucifer’s current antics (or lack thereof) wouldn’t affect your Saturday movie plans, you had asked all the other brothers to get a similar response. 

“Ugh,” you groaned, banging your head against the counter. “I’m going to kill him when I see him.”

“Or you could fuck him~” Asmo giggled. “I’m sure that would get your point across just the same.”

“You know what?” you said, picking yourself up. “I might just take your advice on this one Asmo. Would you be a darling and keep the rest of your brothers away from his office for a bit?”

He stared back at you, flabbergasted by your sudden boldness. “I was just joking MC-”

“And I’m not. He’ll know better than to overwork himself next time,” you said, spinning on your heels and storming towards Lucifer’s office. You knew that Asmo was never going to let this go but right about now you didn’t have the heart to care - you had an overworked Lucifer to fuck.

Not even bothering to knock, you throw open the door and are met with exactly what you’d thought you’d find. Turning to close the door (and lock it, you had some decency), you stared at the first born. Lucifer stares blearily back at you, all eye bags and dishevelled hair, a pen dangling in his grip. He looks like he hasn’t moved in days, and in all honesty, you’re not sure he has.

“Alright, that’s it!” you declare. “No more paperwork, no more spreadsheets, no more. You’re taking a break whether you like it or not.”

“I need to get these done by Monday,” he said firmly. “I have too much to finish to stop now, MC.”

“I’ll help you, but only after you take tonight off,” you said. “When was the last time you ate, Lucifer?”

He frowned, his forehead creasing. “It’s Thursday, right? I ate this morning.”

“It’s Friday, love,” you murmur, pulling the pen from his hand. “Friday night. You’re done for today.”

He blinks back at you, then scoffs. “It’s no later than Thursday night. You’re just saying that to get me to stop-”

You groan and roll your eyes, throwing the pen across the room. “You know what? I’m done with your bratty attitude.”

“Excuse me?” he scoffs. “You’re in no place to mock me. Fetch me my pen you so disrespectfully threw Diavolo knows where and leave my office.”

“I don’t think I will,” is all you say before you smash your lips onto his. “You need to be taught a lesson, pretty boy, and I know just how to do it.”

He sits, flushed, sinking further into his dumb, fancy chair, attitude totally gone just from a kiss. You grin, knowing you’ve got him. Sliding down to your knees, you tug on his waistband, peering up at him through your lashes.

“Take it off for me, won’t you, gorgeous?” you murmur, holding back a laugh at how hastily his pants and underwear are discarded. “There we go. Gonna eat you out, yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? My mouth on your pretty little pussy?”

Lucifer keened as you mouth at him, tongue circling his clit slowly. His hands were gripping the armrests, knuckles white. You reached your hands up to his, guiding them into your hair just as you plunged your tongue into his folds, drawing a whine out of his lips. Lucifer’s grip on your hair was harsh, and on a normal day you would scold him. But today was about giving this poor boy a break, so you let it slide. Instead, you shove a finger in alongside your tongue, revelling in the noises you were drawing out of him. 

“Ngh, MC,” he sobs. “Please, please, more, need more, wan’ it, please!” 

You pull off, and he wails. “More? But you’re already soaked sweetie, not sure you could handle more.”

“No no no, please,” he cries, tears dripping down his cheeks. “I’ve been good, haven’t I?? Please, jus’ want a little more!!”

“M’kay, baby,” you say, a sadistic grin flashing on your face. You shove three fingers in him at once and he moans, high and pitchy. You thumb at his clit with your other hand and he clenches, tight, around your fingers. You curl your fingers, pressing hard into his sweet spot while your other hand continues to circle his puffy clit. He lurched his hips, pressing further into your touch. He looked gorgeous: pussy dripping around your fingers, his hair and outfit totally dishevelled, eyes rolled back into his skull.

“You feelin’ good, pretty boy?” he moaned loudly in response. “Think you can cum around my fingers like the goody boy you are?”

He rolls his hips harder into your hand, nodding furiously. Desperate moans escape his mouth and his hand wanders to your wrist, forcing your fingers as deep as he can. His chair was absolutely ruined, and the stain that his puddled juices would form were going to be unmistakable. You were sure he’d be angry tomorrow, but right now all he could do was buck into your little touches like a desperate whore.

“Gonna- gonna cum!!” he cried. “Please, please, can I? Wanna- ngh- wanna be good for you, please MC, wanna be a good boy-”

You lean down and puff air over his sensitive clit. “Go on, then. Cum.”

He screamed, reduced to incomprehensible blubbering and moans of your name. You work him gently through his orgasm, rubbing circles into his cute little clit until he’s flinching away in overstimulation.

“Thank you, thank you,” he blubbers out, fresh tears cleaning away the dried ones. 

“Oh, baby,” you said, condescendingly. “Did you think we were done?”

Glazed over eyes met yours are you stand up, hard cock tenting in your pants. You struggle out of your pants, not bothering to make a show out of it. Lucifer certainly didn’t seem to mind - he was practically drooling, clenching around nothing when you yanked your boxers off and your cock hit the open air. He reached up to wrap his hand around it, but you slapped him away, giving him a stern look. 

“Do you have permission to touch my cock?” you said, clicking your tongue when he shakes his head. “That’s what I thought, baby. Do you have condoms?”

He opens a desk drawer to your left and fumbles a bit, hands still shaking in his post-orgasm haze. He finally pulls out a shiny foil packet and hands it to you, looking at you expectantly.

“So impatient, aren’t you?” you taunt, acting like you weren’t dripping precum. “Put it on for me, won’t you, beautiful?”

You hand the packet back to him and snort as he struggles. The glare he gives you in return is half-hearted, and if the way his eyes trailed back to your cock was any indicator, he was just as excited for this as you are. The foil finally tears and he rolls the condom on your length in record time, leaning back and spreading his legs wide once he was done.

“So desperate, aren’t you?” you coo at him, pinching his cheek as you line up. “Beg me, and maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

“Please,” he whines, all semblance of pride thrown out the window. “Need you, need your cock so bad, wan’ you to fill up my pussy, please!! ‘m so wet for you MC, so ready, please just put your fat cock in my tight little pussy, please-”

You smash your lips on his, unbelievably turned on. You rutted against his opening a few times before guiding yourself in, letting out a low groan at how tight he was. Your hips stilled when you bottomed out, letting Lucifer get used to your size. He squirmed under you, trying to roll his hips and get you to move, god damnit.

“Stop being a slut,” you scold. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you? You can wait a little longer for me to fuck your brains out. Or are you already drunk on my cock? Such a cockslut, huh, can’t last one minute without begging me to wreck your pretty little hole.”

“MC, move, please,” he sobbed. “Wan’ it, want you to wreck my hole- so wet for you, please make a mess out of me with your cock!”

You moan into his shoulder, rocking your hips into him roughly. You held nothing back - slamming into him like there was no tomorrow, littering his neck with marks that surely wouldn’t disappear anytime soon. Pulling away so you could see his face, you collect your mixing essences with two fingers and shove them down Lucifer’s throat, cock pulsing inside him when his eyes roll back as he gags. 

“Doing so good, darling,” you grunt, fingers still buried in his throat. “Taking my cock so well, just like you were made for it. Such a good little cockslut, huh?”

Despite all your talk, you weren’t going to be able to hold on much longer. Between eating out your pretty little doll and the way he was clenching just right around your cock, you were doomed to an early release. You pulled your fingers out of his throat, burying them in his hips.

Lucifer, fortunately, wasn’t in much better of a state. “Master, MC, please, wanna cum!! Let me cum, wanna cum, want you to fill me up with your seed, make me yours, please please please!”

“Gonna cum, huh pretty baby?” you said, gritting your teeth. “You cum when I do, m’kay baby? Just a little longer darling.”

He bucks his hips up to meet your thrusts and your grip on his hips becomes bruising. Your thrusts get sloppy and you bring a hand down to roll his clit and drag him to his orgasm. 

“Cum for me,” you demand, voice firm despite your incoming orgasm. “Cum for me baby, cum for me!”

He screams, cumming loud enough that you’re certain the whole house heard him, and your orgasm follows his, crashing over you. You bury your head into his shoulder, groaning as your cock pulsed inside him. You both sit there, basking in the afterglow. 

You finally roll up, unsure how much time has passed. “Let’s get you cleaned up, Luci.”

He looks at you, already half asleep, and you sigh, dressing the both of you haphazardly. Scooping him up, you drag him to the bathroom to clean up. His head bobs, barely awake, but you make sure he stays up until he’s all clean - you certainly don’t want any of the clean-up process to hurt him, especially after how rough you were with him. Finally satisfied with your clean-up job, you let him wrap his legs around your torso and his arms around your neck in a reverse piggyback of sorts. He snuggles into your neck, softer than normal as you carry him to his room. Opening the door with your elbow (your hands clearly full of Lucifer), you plop him unceremoniously on the bed, manhandling him until he’s tucked nicely under his sheets. You kiss him gently on the forehead and turn to go, not wanting to overstay your welcome, when a hand wraps gently around your wrist.

“Stay,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “I want you to stay.”

That’s all it takes for you to wiggle your way into the sheets, snuggling up close. You would deal with his tsundere in the morning - right now, you were happy to just be here, with him.

Word Count: 2060

Boxing Day (SFW)

Thank you to @glassofapplejuicee for beta reading saving this work! Love you so much babes, don't know what I would do without you <3

Happy Merry Boxing Day, everyone! I’ve been a little quiet as of late (oops), but I figured a fluffy little set of headcanons about our favorite boys would get me writing again. Lo and behold, it totally worked - so Happy Holidays everyone, and enjoy!

Summary: You and your partner had a Merry Christmas, but now it’s time for you to move on to the new year! How long does it take for you to take down all of your Christmas decorations, and what challenges do you run into along the way? 

Warnings: light swearing, petnames (Gojo is a menace, Nanami calls you darling, Sukuna calls you brat, Toji calls you doll, Shoko calls you lovely), minor injuries in Toji’s

Features Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Sukuna, Fushiguro (Toji), Ieiri, Higuruma

Let me know if you think I missed anything!!

All characters are over 18 :)

– – –

Gojo Satoru

If anyone is over the top, it’s Gojo. Definitely takes Christmas decorations too far, and is not past putting vulgar things on the tree. Tried to decorate it with Polaroids of you in…compromising positions, much to your chagrin. You shut that one down pretty quickly.

One of those rich assholes who hires people to put up/take down the lights outside. Before you, he definitely had only the boring white lights and maybe one of those sad wire light-up reindeers (like this, for example). Just one of them, all alone - he thinks it’s symbolic and deep because he was all alone at the time but it really just makes his huge yard look extra empty.

With you, however, he wants to do it himself. He thinks there’s something magical about putting up decorations together, with people you love. 

(It’s sweet, really, until he sucks at it and cries because he has no actual idea how to do it - why is it so hard to hang the lights straight?? Or at all, for that matter?? You’ll probably end up having to do all the work)

Once Christmas comes and goes, he does NOT want to take stuff down. You put it up “together” (you put it up), he wants to leave it up forever! A memory of the Christmas you spent together. 

Plus, his big house feels a lot less empty with all the lights and garlands and various other decorations he spent too much money on. Please, let him leave it up?

You probably let him get away with leaving up the tree until the beginning of January. He, of course, bought a huge, very much real, tree. The needles are a mess, and when it reaches the point where there are barely any needles left on the tree, you put your foot down.

He’s whining the whole time you two are taking it down. He tries to sneak out and drag it back inside, but you catch him every time.

Don’t even get him started on taking down the lights…

– – –

“But baaaaaaaabe!!”

“Gojo Satoru.”

“Full government name? You wound me, baby! Just like you’re wounding our beautiful Christmas memories!”

You groan, rolling your eyes at your boyfriend’s whines. “Satoru, you’re the one who wanted a real tree. I told you it was too much responsibility and cleaning, but you-”

“Baby,” he said, eyes watery and lips pulled downward in a pout. “Why’re you so mean to me, huh? Just want to keep all of our Christmas memories safe, is all.”

You soften at this. Satoru didn’t really get a chance to celebrate Christmas often, before you. You know there’s no way in hell his family celebrated with him, and you’re sure that once he lost his best friend (on Christmas Eve, no less), he and Shoko didn’t truly celebrate again. This was the first real Christmas he’s had in a while.

“Toru,” you murmur, pulling him to you. “We have plenty of years in the future to make new Christmas memories, hm? We’ll get to put up Christmas decorations all over again.”

His eyes find yours, and you wonder briefly if the glow in his eyes is the lights he refuses to take down, or the jujutsu endlessly flowing through him.. There’s a hint of something melancholy hidden in them, mixed with something else you can’t quite put your finger on. He doesn’t say anything, just looks, almost studying you - you’d be freaked out if you didn’t know him so well. Know that your words and your kindness were unfamiliar to him. In a world where he’s expected to be the strongest, he doesn’t know what to do when someone expects him to just be himself. You want every piece of him, the good and the bad, the strong and the weak, and you try to convey that as much as you can with your eyes. 

You let him stare until the silence becomes too thick, too heavy with something inexplicably sad that leaves a lump in your throat and a weight on your chest. You pull your hand away from his, running a gentle thumb over his cheek. Your eyes can’t seem to leave his, as much as it hurts.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, with such finality that he can’t help the smile that stretches across his face. It’s still full of grief, but there’s a glimmer of hope in it, too. “You know that Toru. I’m here. I’ll always be here, okay? Don’t you forget it.”

“I won’t.” he says, devoid of his usual humor. “You promise me?”

“I promise, Toru.” you say. You barely get it out before he’s smashing his lips to yours. It’s messy, it’s frantic, and it’s full of all the words he can’t say. He knows it’s selfish of him. To want you, to love you. His life is full of danger and death around every corner, and he knows that by bringing you into his life he’s brought you into that, too. But he can’t help himself. Gojo Satoru gets what he wants, he always has, and there’s nothing he wants more than you.

So he holds you close, and hopes that you keep wanting him forever, too.

Geto Suguru

He’s been going all out for Christmas since he found Nanako and Mimiko. It was clear that the two had never really had a proper family, and he wanted to give them that as much as he could.

He went all out when they were little - fake reindeer hoofprints in the yard, piles of presents under the tree, half eaten cookies left on the plate labelled “for Santa”. The girls are his whole world, and he’d pluck the moon from the sky if they asked him to.

The girls love you, too, once you become part of their Christmas traditions (even though Suguru made you tell them that Santa’s not real because he couldn’t do it himself). You’ve helped give them a family that they never had, and they welcome you with open arms.

Nanako and Mimiko become menaces when you even mention that it’s about time you all take the Christmas decorations down. They love the way the house feels brighter with all the decorations up. Expect a bit of a fight (and no help from your boyfriend, who seemingly can’t tell his girls “no”).

– – –

“Absolutely not.” “You want to do what?!”

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t your best idea to suggest taking down the tree, after all. You figured it’d be a good thing to do together - a touch of family time that you don’t always get with the girls - but they seemed to be appalled that you had even suggested such a thing.

“Nana, Mimi, it’s not Christmas anymore.” you say, laughing a bit nervously. “We can’t leave the tree up forever, can we?”

“We certainly can,” Nanako starts with a frown, “What’s stopping us? The pressure from society to conform to its trends?”

You barely manage to stop your eyes from rolling. You loved that Suguru was honest and open with the girls about what he does and who he is, but Nanako was definitely picking up some preconceived notions from hanging around Suguru’s literal cult all the time. Perhaps you’d have to talk to your boyfriend about it.

“Nana, sweetie, I love you-”

“Clearly you don’t if you won’t let me keep the tree up!” “What’s going on in here?”

A smooth, deep voice cuts through your conversation (argument?) with Nanako and Mimiko, and you feel a wave of relief crash over you. Surely, your lovely boyfriend would talk some sense into the girls (primarily Nanako).

“Suguru! The girls and I were just discussing taking the Christmas decorations down.”

Oblivious to Nanako’s scowl, he smiles softly at you. “What a good idea! We can do it as a family, hm? I could use a family day after the meetings I just had.”

“We’re not taking it down,” Mimiko mutters, eyes flickering between you and Suguru. “It’s too early.”

“Yeah, it’s way too early! We need to leave them up waaaaay longer. We did so much work to put them up, we can’t just take them down now!” Nanako whines out, doing her best puppy dog eyes at her father.

“You two,” you sigh, massaging your brow. “We can do it all again next year, but we seriously need to start taking these down, it’s getting a little late to still have our decorations up-”

“We can leave them up.”

Your head snaps to look at your boyfriend, mouth agape. “What?”

“I mean…” he says, looking anywhere but your face. “They seem really excited about it, you know? It can’t hurt to keep them up a bit longer…”

You should’ve known he would succumb to their puppy dog eyes, the bastard. “Suguru Geto, it’s the middle of January. We absolutely cannot keep them up much longer, the neighbors are starting to give me weird looks-”

“Who cares what the neighbors think?” he says, pulling you towards the couch. “C’mon, how about family movie night instead? We can take the tree down another day, hm?”

You know you shouldn’t let the girls win this one. You know it, and yet you let yourself get led to the couch anyways. Some 1980’s chick flick is put on, and you all settle in, curled into each other. You think you catch Meg Ryan out of the corner of your eye, but you’re more busy looking at your family, all together at this moment. 

The tree can stay up another day, you decide. You could handle a couple of judgy stares from the neighbors - because you wouldn’t trade moments like these for the world.

Nanami Kento

Nanami didn’t necessarily celebrate Christmas when he was on his own. It felt like a lot of work to put up a tree and decorate it if he was barely going to be home anyways.

After his return to jujutsu, Gojo tries endlessly to try and drag him to the yearly Christmas work party to no avail. Especially after you enter the picture. Gojo wants nothing more than to tell you embarrassing stories about your lover. 

But now he has you, and the little pink-haired menace that is Itadori Yuuji. You two had inserted yourselves into his life when he thought he needed solitude the most, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

Christmas, which had once come and gone, became something tangible. It meant endless hours of baking and decorating cookies, and time spent together, as a family. Yuuji wasn’t technically his son, but he was certainly a part of your little family (the gifts under the tree for him spoke for themselves). 

Like Gojo, he’s oddly hesitant to take down the decorations. The memories of putting them up and celebrating Christmas with the people he treasured around them are very dear to him.

Unlike Gojo, he can picture a future with you and Yuuji. Not quite on boxing day, but before December ends, the three of you are taking down decorations together, as a family, knowing that you’ll get the chance to put them up again next year.

– – –

Despite the date being not-quite-Christmas, you had insisted on playing Christmas music as you all took Christmas decorations down. Something about it being your “last chance to listen to Christmas music!” and you needing “one last dose” of Christmas before it was gone. And any level of time spent together with you and Nanami had Yuuji bouncing off the walls, so of course he was down for Christmas music after Christmas.

Despite his slight distaste for the music, Kento couldn’t help but smile at you and Yuuji. You’re rolling the lights neatly as Yuuji unwinds them, laughing and joking as you do. He remembers when you had asked Yuuji to come over to decorate for Christmas with the two of you. He had seen the boy excited before, but there was something special about the joy he radiated as he happily agreed to come over. You’d offered him the spare room many times, and even though he “can’t” stay, his clothes soon filled the drawers and his toiletries lived in your bathroom. While there’s not necessarily a “break” from the life of being a sorcerer, Fushiguro had gone home to Gojo’s, and Kugisaki had gone home to her family for the holidays. But, with nowhere to go, Yuuji had been planning to stay at the dorms, alone. Normally Nanami would’ve asked you first, but the second he heard he invited the boy to stay - lots of empty excuses about needing more company for Christmas and not wanting to eat all of the Christmas goods yourselves. But when Yuuji came bouncing in, you already knew, giving your husband a knowing smile. 

Now he was certain the house was going to feel empty, once Yuuji was gone. Ever respectful, he insisted he would be out of your hair the second the holidays were over.

“Ken, c’mere!” you call, beckoning him over. “Help Yuuji with the tree, won’t you?”

“I’ve totally got this, I’ll be fine!” Yuuji exclaims, trying to pick up the plastic tree without even taking it apart. “See?? Totally got it-”

Famous last words, of course, as he slips and thuds to the floor, the Christmas tree atop him. You and Kento both fly in, working to roll the tree off of him as quickly as possible. Of course, once he’s free, Yuuji is laughing, already re-telling the story of his “epic fall” (“it landed on me like whoosh! and I slammed against the carpet like kapow! Did you see that??”).

You sigh, glad he’s okay. “Could thank Nanami for helping you out from under it, you know.”

He flushes, stopping mid-story. “Oops, sorry! Thanks for the save, dad!”

He grins toothily before he catches his mistake, but by then, Nanami’s already tearing up. You are, too. Yuuji lost his family a long time ago. To feel safe enough, to call your husband dad? This was the best Christmas you’ve ever had, you’re certain.

And if you all end up crying? That’s nobody’s business but yours.

Sukuna Ryomen

He’s aware of the human tradition of “Christmas”, but if you think even for a second he considered celebrating it before you, you’re sorely mistaken. He’s the King of Curses, he doesn’t have time for nonsense like Christmas.

When you insert your annoying self into his life, he’s unsure on how to approach the holiday. His estate was not a place for “joy” or “being merry” (two very important things to Christmas, you had informed him), but with you here, perhaps it could be.

Very against decorations across the estate. In the privacy of certain spaces, he may allow it, but there will be no outdoor decorations or house-wide decorations. He does not want his servants to think he is getting soft for the human he’s been toting around. He will cede to some decorations, but he does not care about you and your silly human traditions.

(they already know he’s going soft for you. Any servant can see the way he looks at you, and how delicate his hands are with you. They’d be stupid not to know at this point the affection he holds for you)

He, at first, refuses to let you put up anything yourself in the approved rooms. He has servants, and he has made it very clear that they are yours to command. Why do you insist on doing it yourself?

You explain the importance of doing it yourself, even have the gall to ask him to do it with you, and he scoffs at this. He’s the King of Curses, he doesn’t have the time to 

Later, you will find him reading on Christmas traditions and decorations. When you catch him, he will refuse to acknowledge it, but the way he won’t quite make eye contact with you says all you need to know.

Once Christmas is over, decorations are down and boxed immediately. He instructs the servants the night before to take them down, and by the time you wake, the decorations are gone. 

With all of this Christmas decorating and celebrating, Sukuna has barely had a proper moment alone with you. Now that it’s over, expect him to be the closest to “clingy” that you will ever see him.

– – –

It’s early morning, December 26th, and Sukuna could not be more glad that this “Christmas” thing was over. You had become consumed by it, and despite finding some sort of amusement in the way you bounced around all excited and glowy, he was sick of it. You talked on and on about what he had to do with you, and while he indulged you on some of them, he was not fond of being bossed around. You had also mentioned another man, whom you referred to as “Santa” - you had assured Sukuna he wasn’t real, but Sukuna didn’t like the way another man’s name was so easily rolling off your tongue - who brought gifts to children in their homes. You had made an attempt to put up a little “Santa” figurine on the mantle, but found him in pieces (and in the trash) hours later. Sukuna would not allow another man you spoke so highly of to taint his space. 

You shift slightly, and he looks down at your sleeping face where it lay against him. You looked utterly ridiculous - your face was smushed against him, your hair was tousled, and you were lightly snoring - but for some reason Sukuna couldn’t tear his eyes from your form. He could hear the servants shuffling around in the other rooms on the estate, taking down the eyesores that you had put up all over the house. While he had instructed them to take everything Christmas-related down across the estate, they also had very specific instructions to never enter his chambers without explicit permission from him. This meant that his chambers were still a little Christmas bubble, the tree you had put up in the corner still standing tall.

When you first tried to get him to put a tree up in his chambers, he had refused. You could put a tree in the approved rooms, he had reminded you, and his chambers were very explicitly off limits. You had frowned, saying something about needing a “personal” tree that you could decorate yourself and keep presents “safe” under it. He informed you that anything you left under the other trees would also be safe, as this was his estate, and no one would touch anything without his permission, but you had just thrown your hands up.

“It’s about the principle, Ryo!”

“Brat, be grateful I’m letting you put up any trees at all. I could call off this whole ‘Christmas’ nonsense whenever I want, so watch your mouth.”

He sighed. He doesn’t know how you managed, but you had eventually wore him down. A sparkling tree sits in the corner of his chambers now, glowing softly. Once you had risen and started to go about your day he was going to take it down, he resolved. Whatever weird feelings were bubbling in his chest were the fault of this Christmas rampage you had gone on, and nothing else. Once his estate was cleaned of the Christmas blight you had cast upon it, his chest would return to normal, he was certain.

But for now, as the Christmas lights shining from the tree glowed behind your sleeping form, the feelings would remain. He felt himself melt into you, and ran a gentle hand through your hair. His eyes flick to the ceiling before drifting closed again. He sighs, and pulls you a little further into him. Softly, so softly that even the wind barely catches it, he murmurs to you.

“Merry Christmas, brat.”

Fushiguro Toji (ft. Tsumiki and Megumi)

You think this man has ever owned a house? Jokes on you honey, he’s never had that kind of money (or that good of credit).

Subsequently, there’s nowhere to decorate outside, really. Other than the apartment door, but that's too much work for Toji, so any Christmas decorations he might have are inside the walls of his apartment.

He’s boring, but surprisingly your biggest opp in Christmas decoration is little Megumi. Tsumiki is an angel as always and goes along with whatever Christmas shenanigans, but Megumi doesn’t want even a hint of Christmas in the house.

The most you get is a Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, which was all Toji was willing to do before you, anyways. As much as he pretends he doesn’t, he’s always loved his kids, and keeps a plastic tree and a small box of ornaments (which is mostly comprised of the ones Tsumiki and Megumi has to make at school) shoved in the corner of his closet for this time of year. He may have been a shitty father, but he cared, in his own way.

When Megumi is little, that tree is down on December 26th, shoved back in the corner of Toji’s closet. Christmas is dumb, and so is anything that reminds him of it.

But now, with warmer memories surrounding it, the tree might take a couple more days to find itself back in the closet. It’s definitely down within the week (Megumi can only handle being sappy for so long), but maybe Christmas isn’t so bad with you around.

And (even though he won’t say it), Toji feels the same way - you see it in the mistletoe that now hangs in the entryway between the kitchen and living room, in the way his eyes find yours as you all decorate gingerbread houses together, in the way he’s just a little sweeter when Christmas comes around. You’re the best present he’s ever gotten, and the only one he needs, this Christmas and every Christmas in the future.

The actual act of taking stuff down, though? With four (mostly) grown bodies shoving around in a tiny apartment, it’s a lot more hectic than you’d like it to be. Someone always ends up minorly hurt every year in the clean-up process. It’s inevitable, and you’re considering making a Christmas scrapbook of all the injuries you all have gotten over the years.

(your personal favorite will always be when Toji yanked on the lights impatiently and the whole tree came down on him. You can still see Tsumiki’s wide eyes and hear little toddler Megumi’s laughter as Toji grumbled about “stupid tree” this and “damn lights” that. He was fine, but his ego was not)

– – –

“Shit-”

You spin around at the gruff swear from your husband, about to scold him for swearing in front of the kids, when you’re met with a facefull of Toji. His chest slams into your face, and you both go down. He barely manages to catch himself over you (if he hadn’t, you’re certain you would’ve been flattened under his weight). Your head smacks into the carpet and you groan, squeezing your eyes shut to battle the throbbing pain in your head.

“Dad, what the hell-”

“Are you two okay??”

Two overlapping voices come from above you, but you don’t think you can open your eyes. You haphazardly throw up a thumbs up, just to blindly whack your husband in the face.

“Ow, doll, Jesus Christ. Watch your hand, won’t you?” Toji gruffs out, but one of his hands is already moving to cradle your head, gently touching around it. He doesn’t feel any blood, and he lets out a sigh of relief. He didn’t really feel like making a trip to the emergency room a couple days after Christmas, especially for something this embarrassing. He’s sure they’ve had enough Christmas-related injuries from the idiots who go out and party, anyways. 

“Get off of them, you oaf.” Megumi says, shoving his father off of you. Toji rolls off of you, letting Megumi shove him aside. That kid always liked you more than him, even if you weren’t related by blood. 

He lets the kids fuss over you and goes into the kitchen to grab you an ice pack for your head. At worst it’s a concussion, but he’s hoping it’ll just be a bump. Not his fault that Tsumiki got distracted midway through taking the lights of the tree and left them hanging haphazardly. And yeah, maybe it was his fault that he wasn’t looking where he was going and got his feet tangled in the lights. But Megumi was complaining about them still having all of the ornaments he made as a kid, and Toji had to make sure that brat wasn’t throwing any of them away. So yeah, maybe his eyes weren’t on the floor. But in his defense, the lights were only supposed to be in two places - the box, or on the tree.

Grumbling, he makes his way back to the living room, where you’re now situated on the couch. Christmas teardown long forgotten, Tsumiki is asking you questions and holding fingers in front of your face. Megumi is standing broodily to the side. His arms crossed, as if he doesn’t care, but his eyes are watching you with rapt attention. 

“For your head, doll.” Toji says, passing you the ice pack. You accept it gratefully, cradling it to where your head smacked into the floor. Your bleary eyes meet his, and you can see the glow of worry hiding behind them. You offer him a weak smile, hoping it’ll ease at least some of his worries.

“I knew I was gorgeous, but you didn’t have to literally fall for me, you know,” you joke, eyes sparkling. There’s a distinct “Ew!” from Megumi as Toji leans down to plant a kiss on your lips, rolling his eyes at your nonsense. 

“Merry Christmas, doll.”

“Merry Christmas, Toji.”

And if the half-taken down tree stays up for a day or so more, Megumi doesn’t say a word.

Ieiri Shoko

Shoko has no intention of owning a house, ever. Her apartment has always been more than enough space for her, and being the only sorcerer with her abilities, she works crazy hours, anyways. She wouldn’t have the time to take care of a whole house.

Even with you in her life, she’s still home at odd hours. She tries harder now, to be home more often, but there’s only so much that’s in her control. You’ve woken up many nights to her crawling out of bed and throwing on her coat to get to Jujutsu Tech.

It sucks and she knows it, but both of you know it’s always going to be her reality unless she leaves jujutsu. And both of you know that, at this point, she isn’t going anywhere.

Your Christmas decorations are very sparing. A wreath on the outside of your door, a small tree in the corner of the living room, and perhaps a wintry candle burning. Your apartment isn’t really well-lived in, but you two try to make it as cozy as possible.

Christmas decorations could stay up year round, honestly. She barely cares to put them up, taking them down is way more work than she wants to go through. The wreath is notoriously on the door until mid-February. It’s a miracle if it’s gone by Valentine’s Day.

Things get taken down, piece by piece, until all of it is gone. Unlike most people, it’s not a day that you two do it, but over the course of the rest of December and January. 

(The door wreath always gets forgotten because by the time post-Christmas rolls around you’re both used to it and forget it’s even there)

By the first of the new year, the lights and ornaments are off the tree, and all of the Christmas cookies (that you stole from Gojo’s stash) are eaten. At some point, the tree goes down. Eventually, the candle’s been burnt to the end of the wick, and it’s replaced with something more flowery. Any sign of Christmas and the holidays slowly fades away.

Until one of you remembers the wreath, of course!

– – –

A gentle buzzing shakes Shoko from her lunch. She’s rarely aware of what time of day it is in the hellscape that is the basement of Jujutsu Tech; but Gojo, in a rare moment of kindness, had visited her with lunch in his hands. He was blabbering on and on about something nonsensical, as always, but she was grateful for the break. As much as he acted like an idiot, Gojo was anything but - he knew the conversation he was holding was one-sided. He’d act all offended later, she was sure (what a headache), but her little noncommittal “yeah”s and “mhm”s would do for now. 

“Ooooh, who’s calling you?” Gojo asks, wiggling his eyebrows at her. She rolls her eyes, looking down at the caller ID. Your name lights up the screen, a goofy picture of you flashing behind it. You had thrown the Christmas lights for the tree in the air over your head in excitement, and had ended up all tangled up in them. Despite being somewhat wrapped  up in Christmas lights, you had a big smile on your face, laughing at your own predicament. It’s perhaps one of her favorite pictures of you.

Before she can answer it herself, Gojo snatches her phone from her hand, and answers it himself. “Helloooo, Ms. Shoko Ieiri speaking. How may I be of doctor-ly assistance to you?”

She can hear you snort on the other end of the phone, clearly amused. 

“Hi, Gojo. How’re you?”

He gasps dramatically. “Gojo?? How dare you confuse me with that no good idiot-”

“Gojo,” Shoko starts, extending her hand, “give me my phone back.”

He sticks out his tongue, handing her the phone. “Boo, you two are no fun!”

She sighs, running a hand through her hair. “Hey, lovely.”

“Hey, Sho!”

“What’s up, hm? Need something?”

“Oh, nothing urgent,” you say with a laugh. “Just found something I thought you might find funny.”

“Yeah?” she says, smiling. “And what’s that?”

“Do you know what the date is?” you ask, and she hears a bit of shuffling on the other end of the phone. You’re clearly on the move as you call her.

“Uhm…” her eyes drift to the childish cat calendar Gojo had hung in her office. He had insisted it would “boost morale”, but mostly it had been an eyesore. “February something-th, I’m sure.”

“Yeah!” you exclaim. “It’s February, Sho.”

“I know that,” she says, though there was no real bite in her tone. “I literally just said that.”

“Oh shut up,” you say, a bit muffled on the other end of the phone. “I’m just saying it’s February. Getting awful close to being March, even.”

“February’s short, lovely, that’s not much of a feat.”

“Shhh, let me talk!! Anyways, you know what I found?”

She racks her brain, but there’s nothing that you would find in the house that would make you react like this that she could think of. “No idea, lovely. Would you like to tell me?”

“The wreath, Sho!”

“The wreath…?” she says, before recognition sweeps across her face. “Oh my god-”

“We left the wreath up!” you’re laughing so hard she’s sure you’re crying. “I- how do we forget every year-”

“We got it down by January last year!”

“Mid-January, Sho, not by January-”

“Maybe we should stop putting it up.”

“Noooo! I love having this conversation every year. Don’t you?”

She’s laughing too, even if she doesn’t want to. “Mhm, of course, lovely.”

“Anyways, you’re probably busy, so I’ll leave you be, but Merry Christmas, Sho!”

She laughs, rolling her eyes at your antics. “Merry Christmas, lovely.”

Higuruma Hiromi

Another busy fellow. Being a lawyer and a sorcerer does that to a man.

But it also means he can afford a nice house in a nice area. You’ve got decent land, and a nice big house to decorate for Christmas.

He’s a total sap, and definitely makes time to decorate the house with you. Your tree will look more like a scrapbook than a Christmas tree - covered in picture frame ornaments of the two of you and dinky little ornaments he saw that he was out that reminded him of you.

Expect Christmas/winter dates with him, too - he may be busy, but he’s bending his schedule as much as possible to take you ice skating or to decorate gingerbread houses with you.

When December 26th rolls around, he’s in the office. He overloads himself in November to clear as much of December as he can, but it’s inevitable that he ends back in the office before the month ends. He’s just glad he got to spend Christmas with you.

The decorations stay up perhaps a little too long, but you’d both rather take things down together. You don’t always get the chance to be domestic with Hiromi, so you wait. The rare moments that you do are always worth the wait.

– – –

You can hear Hiromi across the room faintly humming some Christmas tune as you gently lift the garland from the mantle. After some sort of miracle (and a little bit of string pulling), Hiromi had finally managed to land himself a day off post-Christmas. Things always get busy after Christmas - drunk idiots making post-party mistakes, kids misusing their new toys, marriages that barely manage to scrape through Christmas day at all - and he’s been on back to back cases for a couple weeks now. His eyebags have been cutting deeper into his face by the day, and you’re glad to see something like joy in his step as he weaves the lights off the Christmas tree. Once the sun reaches its peak in the sky, the two of you would bundle up and head outside to get the lights and the wreath, but for now, you could enjoy the warmth of the house for a little longer. 

You drop the bundle of garland into one of the many boxes. You knew in your heart that the you of next year would look at the messy pile of garland and be incredibly pissed, but you didn’t have it in yourself to care right now. Sounded like a problem for next year you, not a problem for the you of the present. You had other decorations to take down, and boyfriends to mess with.

You take a peek at said boyfriend as you move the other Christmas knick knacks off the mantle and into the box. He’s still humming something or other, but it’s definitely a new song. He’s dancing to it, a bit, as he gently places your ornaments back in the box. He pauses, sometimes, to look more intently at the little picture frames. A picture of the two of you, at the beach a couple of summers ago. A snapshot of your trip to Paris. A polaroid of you laughing, covered in flour, that barely fits in the frame he bought for it. That one was from this year - he had insisted that you two make Christmas sugar cookies and decorate them, but when you had pulled the flour from the top shelf, it had exploded right out the bottom. It’s what you get for buying the cheap flour, perhaps, but you remember how you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from your throat in the moment. You don’t even remember Hiromi grabbing the camera - just the snap it made as it framed your mishap forever. You shake yourself out of your stupor and look around. You’ve cleared the mantle and the side table, all that’s left in this room minus the tree was…the mistletoe. It hung neatly between the living room and the kitchen, a little glint of green and red against the horrendous light yellow of the kitchen (the old owners had been so pleased with the color that you couldn’t bring yourself to repaint it). You went to grab it down, but even with a stretch to your tippy toes, you couldn’t quite get a grasp on it. 

“Hiromi,” you call out, and he makes a noncommittal sound. “Romi, honey.”

He flicks his head over to you, huffing softly at your pout. “What is it, honey?”

You point up at the offending party, its green and red staring back at you mockingly. “Can’t get the little bastard down. Any chance you’d be willing to help me out?”

“Of course, honey,” he says, striding over to you. You expect him to pluck it off its hook himself, and squeal when his arms wrap around your waist and he lifts. You know he’s strong - hell, you’d have to be strong to do his job - but he lifted you with an ease you didn’t know was possible.

“Are you going to get that down, or do I have to hold you here forever?” he says, a teasing grin making its way to his face.

You jokingly contemplate, putting your finger to your lips to ‘think’ about it. “Hmm, I don’t know, feeling pretty comfy in your arms. Might just have to stay here forever, I fear.”

He snorts, gently bringing you back down. He reaches up and unhooks the mistletoe himself, though he hesitates to bring his arm back down.

“What is it?” you ask gently.

“One last kiss? For Christmas’ sake?”

You laugh breathlessly, knowing damn well that it’s late enough into January that this kiss isn’t for anything but him. But, as he dangles the mistletoe above your heads, you can’t help but lean in to kiss him. And if you two don’t stop, even when the mistletoe is long forgotten? Well, that’s nobody’s business but yours.

Control (NSFW)

Summary: Barbatos believes in the unwavering, whether it’s his loyalty or his belief that he is in control. GN!MC shows him otherwise.

Warnings: smut, dom!reader, name-calling, Barb has a vent (and two cocks), CBT, masochism (Barbatos), a little bit of edging, swearing

Let me know if you think I missed anything!!

All characters are over 18 :)

This is technically my first smut fic but I posted the Belphie one first because this one is vile. Like shit's nasty, buckle up y'all. I’m OBSESSED with the whole cast of obey me, so expect more of these in the future,  oopsie ;P Obey Me requests are always welcome!

– – –

“Your tea, my lord.”

As Barbatos bows to Lord Diavolo, you watch with interest, thoughts clearly elsewhere. About how maybe you could bend him over like that. Or even possibly-

“I’ll be just outside the door if you need me, my lord.”

This snaps you out of your thoughts. You were at a private meeting with the Lord of the Devildom itself, for Diavolo's sake! You shake yourself out of your stupor and give Barbatos a polite smile, watching him (or rather, his ass) as he walks out of the room, the door shutting softly behind him. Turning your attention to Diavolo, you realize he’s been staring. You hope he hasn’t been watching for long enough to follow your eyes.

“Are you and Barbatos together?”

Clearly you hadn’t evaded his gaze. Panicking, a simple, “Pardon?” is all you can stutter out.

“Are you and Barbatos together?” he asks again, unfazed by your reddening cheeks. He even had the audacity to look a little amused, that son of a bitch. 

You and Barbatos had agreed to let the brothers connect the dots themselves. However, you hadn’t discussed the inevitability of the Devildom’s ruler finding out. “Uhm…”

“It seems my suspicions were right!” he says, a large grin spreading across his face. “Congratulations!”

“Uh, thank you, my lord,” you respond, unclear on the point of this little meeting you were having. “Is that why you called me here…?”

He looks at you, a little stunned, but quickly snaps back into his typical self. “Of course not! This is about student council work. Lucifer is one stubborn man, but even he can’t carry all the work himself. You’ve seen how his other brothers are, so would you mind-”

“Picking up some of his work?” you finish, smiling gently when he nods. “I’m one hundred percent willing, that poor man needed a break, like, a century ago.”

Diavolo sends you another smile, noticeably relaxing a bit, “Your help is really appreciated MC! I’ll have Barbatos drop by with the documents later.” He shoots you a wink and you fluster, still not used to Diavolo’s casualty about your relationship with Barbatos. You should probably warn him that the brothers have no idea whatsoever, but he’s already calling Barbatos back to show you out. You thank Dia for his hospitality, bow once for good measure, and follow Barbatos out, resisting the urge to grab his ass in front of the literal king of the Devildom. 

After the door shuts, you melt into Barbatos, letting yourself bask in his comfort. 

“Is everything alright, darling?”

God, he’s too sweet sometimes. “Of course Barb! It’s not like I just had a private meeting with the Lord of the Devildom or something.”

He snorts softly, wrapping a gentle arm around you. “What did he want to discuss?”

“Luci, that poor soul, is overworking himself again,” you say, feeling him nod against you. “I’m picking up some of his workloads so he can have some more downtime.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

“I try my best,” you murmur, snuggling further into him as you finally begin to make your way through the castle corridors. “And Luci deserves some help, he’s already got those brothers of his to handle.”

Barbatos smiles gently down at you, and you decide not to mention the fact that Dia knows about your relationship. It’s a conversation for another time, you decide, letting Barbatos lead you towards the door. As you approach the exit, he slows down, reluctant to let you go.

“Must you be leaving so soon?”

“I’m sorry sweetheart, but I’d rather not overstay my welcome,” you say, kissing him softly on the cheek. “And Dia said he would send you to the HoL with Lucy’s work overflow, so we’ll see each other soon!”

Before you can get fully out the door, Barbatos pulls you back, breathlessly kissing you. “Then I will see you later, darling.”

The door closes behind him and you are left standing, flushed, outside the castle. Slapping your cheeks, you make your way back to the HoL, praying that none of the brothers notice your physical (or emotional) state. Damn your sexy butler boyfriend, he would be the death of you.

– – –

Impatiently scrolling through your Devilgram feed, you once again check the clock. 8:30 pm. While it wasn’t necessarily late, it seemed strange that Lord Diavolo hadn’t sent Barbatos out yet. Maybe he won’t be coming today…

A knock on your door interrupts your thoughts, causing you to spring to your feet. You bolt over to the door, flinging it open with fervor, grinning when you spot your stunning boyfriend. He smiles back and, after a cursory glance to make sure no one else was in the hallway, he steps into your room. The door closes behind him, the gentle click of the lock signaling that tonight might be just as fun as you’d hoped. He hands you a stack of papers that you haphazardly place on your desk, pulling him into a fierce kiss. 

He pulls back, panting. “You should probably go over those papers-”

“When do you have to be back?” you say, staring up at him. “Do I have enough time to ruin you?”

“The young lord gave me the rest of the night off,” he says, his grin turning feral. “And I believe that I will be doing the ruining, darling.”

That just wouldn’t do. With a smirk, you spin him around and push him onto the bed, enjoying the sputtering you get back. Straddling his hips, you dive down to press a passionate kiss to his lips, all teeth and tongue. Your one hand cups his cheek while the other begins to pull his outfit apart, nearly ripping the buttons out in the process. Breaking for air, he gives you a watery smile, moving your hand out of the way and pulling the rest of his top off. You run a soft hand up and down his chest before twisting his nipple harshly, reveling in the moan your action tears out of him. Moving down, you focus your whole attention on his chest, until Barb’s nipples are puffy and his pecs are littered with marks. He paws at your shirt and you comply, already beginning to feel a taste of impatience. You roll your eyes at him but clearly aren’t objecting to getting this train moving, opting to remove the rest of your clothes while you could. He eyes you hungrily, reaching out to you in an attempt to pull you back on top of him again.

“Hands off, pretty boy,” you say, smacking his hand away. “You’ll only touch me with my permission, do you understand?”

He nods, and you shake your head in faux disappointment. “Words, baby.”

“Yes! Yes, I understand, darling, please touch me, please please please-”

You lightly smack his vent, still hidden under a few layers of clothing. Barbatos jolts, a wet patch forming at the front of his pants. You grin wide, sadistic, and land another well-placed smack on his clothed sex. You go on like this a few more times, enjoying the way his head lolled back and his pretty green eyes crossed every time you landed a hit.

“You like this, huh, pretty boy?” He nods desperately, bucking up into empty air. “Beg me, and maybe I’ll consider smacking your little vent while it’s bare. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

He writhes underneath you, already falling apart. “Darling please, please smack my vent again, I’ve been good, please darling!”

“You could do better than that. Try again.”

He absolutely wails, debauched. “Please, please, I’m begging you, need you to smack my dirty little vent again, wan’ it to hurt, wan’ you to show me my place-”

You yank his pants down in one swoop and hit him, hard, smiling when his cocks begin to peek out of his vent. “Such a desperate little pain slut, aren’t you?”

“YES, yes, I’m your little slut,” he cries. “Wan’ you to hurt me more, please, wanna be your good boy.”

“What happened to that cocky behavior, hm? Thought you were going to ruin me,” you say, frowning down at him. “I’m waiting, pretty baby.”

“M’sorry darling, I didn’ mean it, didn’ mean to lie,” he all but sobs, crocodile tears streaming down his face as you land another smack, making sure to tease his cocks on your way back. “‘M just your little bitch boy, just your toy-”

You grab his cocks, giving them a tug. He squeezes his eyes shut, back arching and a low moan rolling off his tongue. You grin, feral, loving the way he squirmed in your grasp, eyes begging for more. He jerks his hips up and you pout, letting go of his cocks. He lets out a screaming sob, frustration evident on his tear-streaked face.

“What happened to my good boy, huh?” you murmur, a sadistic grin imprinting itself on your face. 

“‘m sorry!!” he yelps, eyes wide and staring right up at you. “I can do better darling, I promise, please let me show you-”

“Shut up,” is the only warning he gets before you hover your sex over his face. “If you can’t even beg me properly, then you might as well do something with that dirty mouth of yours, huh, slut?”

He whines but doesn’t object, licking and sucking at your sex with such reverence that you can’t help but buck into him, letting out an involuntary whimper. Damn your boyfriend and his talented mouth.

He groans at your little noises, sending a jolt up your spine. You grab his hair harshly, reminding him who was in control.

“That’s it, baby,” you moan out, gritting your teeth. “Just like that, want to make me cum, don’t you, pretty boy? Keep going, yes, that’s it-”

Your orgasm hits like a train, your mouth opening in a silent scream as Barbatos works you through it, mouthing at you until you’re sensitive and very much overstimulated. Yanking his hair back, you feel yourself clench at the fucked out look on his face. Eyes unfocused, he blearily looks at you, a dopey grin spread across his face. You grip his hair a little harder, loving the pitchy moan that leaves his throat.

“Look at you,” you coo, moving your weary legs so that you're straddling his thighs once again. “Such a pretty little painslut, hm? Just so wet for me, can’t get off without me pushing you around.”

He nods, almost frantic, pleading for your touch, “Please darling, ‘ve been so good, such a good boy for you, please, please, touch me, touch me, I need it, need you so bad-”

He’s cut off by your hand finding one of his cocks, pulling hard. He screams, his vent spurting out copious amounts of precum. Jolting into your touch, you shove two fingers into his vent without warning, reveling in the way his back arches and his body shakes, holding back his impending orgasm.

“Aw, does my pretty little whore wanna cum?” 

“Please, please, please, can’ hold much longer, need to cum, wanna cum for you-”

He sobs as you slow your pace, pulling your fingers out of his vent but leaving your other hand on his cock. You rear back your free hand and smack his other cock, grinning as he sputters and cries. Landing another well-timed smack on his cock, your other hand begins to tug at him at ungodly speeds.

“You gonna cum, pretty baby?” His head bobs, no words but ‘please’ and ‘MC’ left in his vocabulary. “That’s it, let go for me, you can do it, sweetheart.”

He wails, both cocks jumping as you land one final smack. He explodes all over himself, coating his chest and your hands a sticky white. He can’t stop thanking you, and you stroke his hair, letting him come down from his orgasm. Sliding off his thighs, you sit next to him on the bed, smiling softly as he snuggles into your lap. You pet his hair and whisper sweet nothings to him. As he comes back down, you wiggle your way out of his hold, softening at his whine.

“I just need to clean us up, okay pretty boy?” you say, pulling open the bottom drawer on your nightstand. “Look, see? Just need to wipe us down and then we can cuddle, okay lovely?” 

He nods, reluctant, and lets you wipe him down. He watches intently the whole time, clearly beginning to drift. Once you finish with him, you haphazardly wipe yourself off, knowing Barbatos isn’t going to let you go long enough for you to shower. Throwing the soiled wipes vaguely in the direction of the trash can, you help Barbatos under the blankets and slide in next to him, pulling him to your chest. 

“Good night, love.”

All you get is a snore in return.

Word Count: 2143