#I don’t want to do that. but I Will If I Must | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aureatelys · 2 days ago

Text

something only you can have

pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!reader genre: filthy depraved smut w.c.: 4k a/n: this is a result of peer pressure /j but uhm seriously if you dont like, dont read :)

summary: You and Hotch try something new.

c.w.: 18+ MDNI, PISS KINK/DESPERATION, squirting, newly established relationship, dom/sub elements, no prior kink discussion (dont be like them), fingering, m masturbation, THERES PISS BTW

read below or on ao3 here <3

It all started while you were out on a case.

This unsub was pissing you off. Scratch that, it was pissing you all off.

You had been stuck in Texas for almost two weeks with nearly every single lead falling through spectacularly. You could tell everyone was close to their wit’s end, based off of Spencer nearly biting your head off this morning when you greeted him and Penelope not even giving you a silly nickname when you called her earlier.

But now, finally, you had received an anonymous tip and everyone was scrambling to get strapped up and out the door. The sigh of relief in the room was palpable when Hotch found the tip credible, everyone secretly hoping that this would work out and you guys can finally fucking go home.

Stress was starting to eat away at you as well— with the precinct’s AC breaking down yesterday, you were starting to run out of clean clothes, and you really had to pee.

You already had your vest on, shifting in place while Hotch barked out orders to the other officers. You’re seriously regretting the amount of water you’ve had today, but with the AC out and having had sweat through your shirt within the first hour of arriving at the precinct, you didn’t really have a choice.

“I’m going to go use the restroom real quick,” you whisper into Hotch’s ear, leaning in close enough to get a whiff of his cologne.

You don’t even wait for a response, about to turn on your heel and ready to sprint to the restroom because you’re seconds away from having to squeeze your legs together, when Hotch’s voice stops you.

“Can you hold it?”

You blink up at him, incredulous enough that it almost distracts you from the increasing pressure of your bladder and the sweat dripping down the side of your neck. “What?”

“We need to go now. Do you think you can hold it?”

You want to tell him no, you can’t fucking hold it, but there was something in his voice that has you pausing.

You’re not sure if it’s because you haven’t had time alone with Hotch in weeks, having to be content with light brushes of fingers and lingering looks before saying good night. You’re not sure if it’s because Hotch just looks really good in his vest or if it’s that voice. Stern, low and a bit too similar to the same kind of voice he’s recently started using in the bedroom, eyes dark and calculating.

You’re not sure if the heat or the lack of sleep has gotten to you, but it’s the way his voice tugs at you, low in your stomach in a completely different way, that has you huffing out an exhale and obeying.

“Yeah, I can hold it.”

Hotch raises his eyebrows at you, as if shocked, like he didn’t actually think you were going to listen to him. You don’t blame him, you seldom do.

You’re not exactly sure why you feel nervous, heat crawling up your neck and heart thudding a little bit harder.

Despite this thing between you and Hotch still being… new, it was still comfortable. It was even more comfortable in the bedroom, where you learned that Hotch liked to take control and you liked to give it to him, if only with a little bit of defiant teasing to get him riled up.

But this? Relinquishing this sort of control to him had your mind reeling and the air knocking out of your lungs.

It must show on your face, because suddenly his eyes darken and his jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. Heat pools at the pit of your stomach, curling at the edge of your spine, and when you have to squeeze your thighs together, you’re not sure whether you’re trying to stave off your bladder or your arousal. Or both.

You watch as Hotch’s mouth opens, like he’s about to say something, maybe to say that he was just kidding and that you can go to the restroom or another implicit order that would have your knees buckling.

But then Derek’s poking his head through the doorway, eyebrows raised like he knows he’s interrupting something but doesn’t care. “We’re ready to head out whenever you are, Hotch.”

Just like that, Hotch’s face transforms from heated to something more professional, rigid, as if he wasn’t seconds away from pressing you up against the wall. His shoulders tighten, mouth closing and twisting as he trying to formulate a response that didn’t give him away.

“We’ll be right there.”

You deflate a little, arousal still barely humming underneath your skin, as you try to come to terms with the fact that you’re about to barge into an active crime scene with a full bladder.

You two don’t get a chance to talk about it—too caught up in taking down the unsub and then planning who would take charge of the interrogation.

The pressure in your bladder has slightly subsided by the time you had climb into the SUV, adrenaline starting to take over the daze that melts into your brain after you interact with Hotch in that way. He seems to have forgotten as well, based on how engrossed in the road he was while driving.

When you find out that you didn’t have to be involved in the interrogation, you breathe a sigh of relief, muttering a thank fucking god, and then sprint to the restroom.

You’re too busy to notice the curious gaze Hotch wears as he watches you waddle down the hallway.

It’s been several weeks and you’ve nearly completely forgotten about the whole incident.

Until now.

The team had just gotten back from dinner after successfully wrapping up another case. Relief at finally catching the unsub and being able to go back home for a much-needed weekend settled satisfyingly into your bones. It was still hot out, humid enough where your hair was starting to cling to the damp skin of your neck, so you didn’t notice how Hotch kept waving his hand for the waiter to refill your glass of water, that bastard.

Not only that, but he was getting handsy—tracing circles on your thigh with his thumb underneath the table and his palm heavy at the small of your back. It was nice, especially since he usually wasn’t a fan of being so touchy around the rest of the team, but it also provided an inkling of what kind of mood he was in.

You weren’t surprised when he pushed you up against the door as soon as it clicked shut, the drowsy farewells of your teammates fading into the background as Hotch kissed you like he hadn’t seen you in weeks.

His mouth was soft, persistent, as they moved against yours. He takes advantage of the surprised gasp you let out, deepening the kiss further and overwhelming you with the taste of spice from the drink he had at dinner.

He brings an infuriatingly large hand up to cup the back of your neck, tilting your chin up further, while his free hand trailed down your shoulder, down your side, leaving behind trails of heat, until he was grabbing a handful of your ass and pulling you further against him.

You felt the line of his hardening cock against your hip, even through the fabric of your dress pants. It had been torture for you to not fuck your incredibly hot boyfriend/boss during a high-strung case, but it seemed like it was affecting him much more than you thought it was.

When he pulls away, your head still cradled in his palm, the wild glint in his eyes has you smirking. Pupils blown wide, a tinge of pink on his cheeks from both arousal and alcohol, and his hair slowly coming loosened from his hair gel and flopping against his forehead in a way that was starting to become strangely endearing to you.

“Get on the bed,” he orders, voice low, and you quickly obey.

The both of you scramble to tear off your clothes, strangely reminiscent of your teenage years, and then you’re crawling back onto the bed with that youthful kind of giddiness warming up your chest.

You sit back on your elbows and watch with bated breath as Aaron tugs off his boxers, his cock already half-hard and slapping against his stomach, before his dark eyes are set on you. He doesn’t say anything as he kneels onto the edge of the bed as his large hands wrap themselves around your ankles to tug you down.

You let out a squeal as he brings your ass to hang over the edge of the mattress before Aaron leans over you to capture your breathless giggles with a kiss. One of his elbows was digging into the sheets next to your head, the other running up your stomach and to your breasts, and your legs hitched up high around his waist. His mouth was hungry, starving, as he delved into your mouth like he couldn’t get enough of you.

It would be surprising, especially as Aaron didn’t usually prefer to have sex on cases, but you could tell there was something on his mind as his mouth peppers open-mouthed kisses along your jawline and down to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there. It’s nearly desperate, the hurried way he was tasting the sweat off your skin and the way he was squeezing your breasts, his thumbs skimming against your nipple and bringing them to stiff peaks.

You let out a breathless sigh, your arms coming to wrap around his broad shoulders and tangling your fingers with the short strands of hair at the nape of his neck. Heat curls at the pit of your stomach, swirling with the beginning pressure of your bladder threatening to cry out at you. You attempt to push it away to the back of your mind to focus on the warm wet mouth gradually drifting down your chest.

“Been thinking about you all day,” Aaron murmurs, pressing another kiss to the top of your breast before wrapping his lips around your nipple.

“Someone’s impatient,” you attempt to say cockily, however it comes out strangled, your back arching before you could help it to chase the sharp pleasure as he nips at you, soothing the sensitive bud with a swirl of his tongue.

He pulls away and the cold air of the hotel room brushing against your wet nipple has your hips grinding up against him. The hot weight of his cock presses against your inner thigh, desperately close to where you needed him the most.

“You have no idea,” he says, and then he’s moving to suck your other nipple and give it the same attention as the other.

Even if your relationship was still new, Aaron somehow was able to learn your body better and faster than anyone else you had been with—what made your hips squirm, what made you whine into the open air, or what made you feel so good you made no noise, just letting your jaw drop open in ecstasy. He always took his time with you, and his tendency to focus on your pleasure over yours was a breath of fresh air.

You felt the result of his attentiveness now, wetness nearly dripping from your aching pussy and undoubtedly clinging to Aaron’s lower stomach. The tip of his cock would brush against your core every time you canted your hips up, notching against your entrance, and you hoped that he would hurry up and just fuck you already.

He groans every time his cock brushes against your folds, tempted to just slam himself into you. He pulls away, sitting back on his knees as his fingers trace the soft curves of your stomach, your waist, before dragging his fingertips along the apex of your thighs.

“Sweetheart, you’re already so wet,” he coos, briefly dipping his thick fingers between your sopping folds.

You shiver as Aaron makes a show of displaying just how wet you were as he brings his slick fingers up from between your thighs. He separates them, and the both of you watch transfixed as your pearly strings of your arousal clings between them.

“See? She’s practically begging for my cock.”

“Fuck,” you mumble, face growing hot at the filth of his words. He really must be hornier than you thought.

“I have to get her ready first, don’t I?” Aaron says before he’s pushing a thick finger inside of you.

You gasp at the sudden intrusion, because he’s right, he always needs to get you ready first because his cock was always so thick, always felt like he was splitting you open like the very first time.

He’s gentle, slow, despite the fact that you were so wet and ready for him his finger slid right inside.

“Fuck, Aaron…,” you moan, reaching out for him aimlessly until your hand wraps around his wrist, his hand splayed out on your hip.

And then he’s thrusting his finger in and out of you, just as slow, and the lewd squelching of your wetness fills the hotel room as your mouth drops open, your grip on his wrist tightening.

He wordlessly inserts another finger inside, undeniably stretching you even further. It’s intoxicatingly delicious, the difference, because the pathetic whimpers coming from your mouth grows higher in pitch, your blood nearly singing at the pleasure flooding your veins.

“There she is,” Aaron whispers reverently, voice raspy as his eyes drink in the way your pussy swallows his wide fingers and the sheer bliss on your face as you squeeze your eyes shut.

He starts a steady rhythm then, avoiding your clit and plunging in and out of you in a way that he knew wouldn’t get you to come.

And he’s right, he’s always infuriatingly right, however there’s that pressure in your lower stomach, vastly different from white-hot arousal, that’s slowly starting to make itself known.

You try to ignore it, focusing on the weight of his hand against your hip and the way the filthy noises of your wet pussy filtered through your ears, but it was like the faster Aaron fucked you with his fingers, the more that pressure grew.

He must notice your distracted mind, the uncomfortable scrunch on your face, as he slows his fingers. He doesn’t take them out. “Are you okay?”

You blink your eyes open and is met with genuine concern on his face despite the way his eyes continuously drift down to his fingers and then back up to your face.

“Yeah, I just…” you whisper, throat dry. You clear your throat and shift your hips, unsure if you wanted to meet his fingers or scoot away. You pause, unsure how truthful you wanted to be.

It was a normal bodily function, you think, as normal as breathing. You knew Aaron wouldn’t shy away from something as harmless like a bodily fluid like that. “I just really have to go pee.”

A pause. Something unreadable flashes over his face, but it has a strange thrill running up your spine.

And then, he starts moving his fingers in and out of you, slower, curled enough just slightly that had you gasping and your thighs squeezing together around his wrists.

“We haven’t really talked about it,” Aaron says, voice rough. His brown eyes, usually so pretty and gentle around you, were dark and dangerous. “But do you think you can hold it?”

An incredulous laugh escapes you. It’s breathy, and your eyes are threatening to roll back into your head as he begins to increase his rhythm. The way his thick fingers have curled in on you has him nearly brushing that sweet spot inside of you, but also strangely pressing up on your aching bladder.

You’ve squirted before, when you had forgotten to go to the restroom before having sex, but this was a whole different level. It was nearly uncomfortable, having to clench in an effort to refrain from letting go, and your bladder was fuller than ever.

“I don’t know…” you whisper. “I think I really have to go.”

He slowly pulls his fingers out of you and leans over to press his lips to your temple. You whimper at the loss, the pressure at the pit of your stomach increasing without the distraction of his fingers.

“You can do it, sweetheart.” And it’s the low tone of his voice and the way his calloused fingers rub over your puffy folds, wetter than you’ve ever been, that has you legitimately thinking maybe you can hold it. “Do you trust me?”

You slowly realize it actually feels good—not only the added pressure mixing with your arousal, but the sudden desperation you feel, panic clawing its way up your throat, and the small comfort Aaron’s thumb rubbing over your hipbone provides. Somehow, the strain of your bladder just enhanced the pleasure. It was sharper, more intense, and made you feel a bit drunk despite only drinking water all night.

And you do trust him, willing to do anything for him, but not only that, you wanted to be good for him too.

You swallow, meet his eyes, and nod.

He releases a harsh breath against the side of your face, as if in relief, as if he was actually worried that you wouldn’t want to keep going with him and continue exploring your sex life that was slowly becoming a little bit out of your comfort zone. When he leans up a little to capture your lips in a kiss, it’s hungry and frenzied.

When he pulls away to sit back on his knees again, wearing a small, wicked smile on his face that sends your heart doing backflips in your chest, he stops holding back.

He drags the pads of his fingers through your folds, gathering the wetness and smearing it around your pussy, making a noise at the back of his throat. He briefly nudges against your swollen clit, a teasing touch, and it makes your hips jump and mouth drop open in a sharp gasp. He pushes his fingers into your entrance, two at the same time this time, and even though he was just fucking you with them earlier, you let out a low moan at the delicious stretch and being filled up again.

The slow drag of his fingers inside of your pussy has you feeling dazed, your breath escaping your lungs with each thrust. A light sheen of sweat covered your body despite the increased chill of the hotel room. Your nipples were tight and aching, your hips trembling underneath the firm hold Aaron had on you as he curved his fingers inside of you and reaching all of your sensitive spots. All of it felt good, better than good, like you were drowning in white-hot pleasure that was quickly being coaxed out with each thrust.

Despite it all, you couldn’t focus on your orgasm when your desperation to pee grew higher and higher.

“Aaron…,” you whispered, voice strained. Your breaths were growing heavier, the ache in your bladder growing stronger with each second, with each thrust of Aaron’s thick fingers hooked inside of you. The panic climbing up your throat was starting to make itself known again, anxiety at the possibility of not being able to clench and hold off for much longer.

“Just a little bit more, honey. And then you can let go for me.”

When you blink up at him, you’re shocked to realize that there were desperate tears forming at the corner of your eyes and clinging to your lashes. Your thighs were trembling, squeezing together and trapping Aaron’s wrist.

He makes a disappointed noise, and then separates your thighs with his free hand and spreading you open. He keeps your thighs apart with his forearm, his elbow digging into your thigh and his hand grabbing your other knee. He starts fucking into you faster, the filthy squelching of your soaked pussy filling the room.

You moan unabashedly, eyes fixated on the veins protruding in his forearms and the flex of his biceps as he plunges into you. You’re able to see Aaron’s heavy cock bobbing between his thighs, the tip, flushed a pretty pink, wet and leaking with precum so steadily it made your mouth water.

You feel yourself clenching around him, and usually you would be frantically wishing and begging for him to fuck you with his cock, but now you couldn’t think, couldn’t even breathe from the continuous pressure against your fucking bladder.

His hand is a blur between your thighs as he keeps fucking you with his fingers, unwavering in his pace, and your breath stutters, chest growing tight. You squeezed your eyes shut, throwing your head back against the mattress as he didn’t let up. You could feel the beginning tendrils of your orgasm sneaking up your spine, but you didn’t know what would happen if you relaxed and let go.

Before you could even make a decision, you heard rather than felt a gush of liquid coming out of you and the sounds of your pussy getting even wetter. You craned your neck to look down, eyes half-lidded and glassy, and you gasp when you notice actual liquid coming out of you with every thrust of Aaron’s thick fingers and every slap of his palm against your clit.

“There she is,” Aaron growls, gaze fixated on your pussy swallowing up his fingers and the droplets splashing out onto the sheets. “Come on, sweetheart. You can let go.”

You want to argue, tell him that what the fuck do you mean by letting go, but it was as if the more liquid shot out of your pussy, the faster and more intense your orgasm was crawling up your spine. And he doesn’t let up. In fact, it seems like he increases his speed, fucks his fingers into you harder, his palm continuing to slap against your clit, with eyebrows furrowed and lips parted.

A sharp gasp wretches out of you, your arm shooting out to grip his forearm he’s still using to separate your thighs, your muscles tensing and your pussy clenching around his fingers as your orgasm slams into you. You’re distantly aware of more liquid gushing out of you, your release painting your thighs, Aaron’s hands, and the hotel bed sheets.

Aaron lets out a long groan, his fingers slowing but still pushing, pressing and curving against your bladder as if to coax everything out of you. He releases his hold on your knee, letting your legs fall apart while he wraps a large hand around his own cock to bring himself off.

It only takes a couple of strokes before he’s cursing under his breath, voice strained, and then you feel the hot ropes of his come painting your inner thighs and on your stomach and pussy, mixing with your release.

The feeling of warmth against your lower stomach has you clenching again, dazed from your orgasm. The ache of your bladder was slightly alleviated, but it still felt horribly urgent.

Just as you were about to sit up to wobble to the restroom, Aaron stops you with a large hand in the middle of your chest. When you peer up at him, blinking through the tears at the corner of your eyes, he’s trying to catch his breath and his hand was still wrapped around his cock to squeeze the last remnants of his orgasm.

“I said you can let go, didn’t I?”

He slowly takes his fingers out of you before he’s pushing that hand on your lower stomach, pressing on your bladder. You jump, weakly grabbing at his wrist, but you’re still exhausted from your orgasm so your words die in your throat as you felt the beginning trickle coming out of you.

Luckily there’s not a lot, still able to hold some semblance of control, but there’s the unmistakable sound of you pissing on your hotel sheets because your boss wanted you to.

Hot embarrassment floods your face, your ears burning and shame making tears spring up again, but Aaron’s there. He’s watching you, arousal and affection swimming in his dark eyes, as he rubs his thumb back and forth against your hipbone. He’s shushing you, praising you and saying what a good job you did for him, and it provides some comfort that gently washes over you.

You can’t deny the relief you feel either, melting with the aftershocks of your orgasm, and when the flow stops, you softly exhale and drop your head back onto the sheets to stare at the ceiling.

You can’t move, don’t even want to move, but Aaron is there again, taking care of you. He tugs at your hips until you’re laying on a dry spot and wipes a warm wet towel over your thighs, your aching pussy, and even your stomach where some droplets of your release landed.

He’s pressed flushed up against you in the next five minutes, your shoulder pressing into his chest and his hand coming up to brush away the hair that had fallen into your face. He noses along your cheekbone. “Are you okay?”

When you twist your neck to get a good look at him, anxiety prickles at you. You almost expect him to look grossed out, disgusted at you, or even want to break up with you despite this whole thing being his idea.

What you find instead is fondness, as well as concern that he went too far and had made you uncomfortable. His eyebrows are pinched together and he gently cradles your face, his hand smelling like vanilla and lavender. God, you love him.

You lick your lips, still catching your breath, and then you say “It’s your turn next time.”

taglist <3 I AM SO SORRY IF THIS IS NOT SOMETHING UR INTO @kiwriteswords @solardrop @knitmeatardis @mggslover @maeintree @pastelpinkflowerlife @storiesofsvu @actualdeemon @khxna @ssa-writerminds

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x female reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner fic #mine

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jinwoosungs · 3 days ago

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05/17/25; 12:12am

sylus x fem.reader

notes: heavily inspired by the new main branch trailer for sylus ♡

@voidsylus because i’m so excited to share this story with you (⺣◡⺣)♡

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

the air was permeated with the scent of sweat laced with diesel and gunpowder, your breathing heavy as you remained half leaning on his shoulder while he makes his getaway. you attempt to remove yourself from your spot on his lap, only to be stopped by his arm which was now wrapped around your waist.

you meet his gaze from your periphery, seeing the dark amusement flashing within his gaze while letting out a low drawl of your name. “and where do you think you’re going, sweetie?”

shaking your head, you tell him with a pout, “i’m getting off of you so you can properly drive-“

as if purposely going against your wishes, the onychinus leader ends up making a sharp turn, forcing you to hang on to him for support. your arms were wrapped around his broad shoulders, clinging to him for dear life as you cried out, “oh my god, sylus! you did that on purpose!”

he lets out a rich chuckle, shaking his head while keeping an arm wrapped around your waist, “then you better hang tight, sweetie.”

feeling the car pick up speed, you wrap both of your arms around his shoulder, heart racing from the confines of your chest as adrenaline courses through your veins. with each curve, sylus easily navigates his vehicle while picking up speed, losing the rest of the enemies that were once on his trail. as you admire him (witnessing his handsome face painted with a cocky smirk) you swore you had never seen sylus looking so damn hot and sexy before in your life.

the speed coupled along with the sensation of the night wind coursing through your hair makes you break out into fits of joyful laughter, pressing lingering kisses against the side of sylus’s neck. you could feel his smile against your skin when he presses a kiss against your cheek, pressing his foot against the gas pedal to pick up even more speed (just to hear more of your laughter).

looking back to ensure that he had lost his trackers, sylus slows down the speed of his vehicle to a small crawl, managing to find a scenic outlook before sliding into the parking spot. due to how late it was, you two were the only ones settled at this particular spot.

your heart slows down its rapid beats the moment sylus takes his keys out of the ignition. you let out a shaky sigh, leaning back slightly to meet his gaze. his garnet eyes appear darker than usual, shining with an unbidden sense of adoration for you when he gently frames at your face, “are you alright, kitten? you aren’t hurt anywhere?”

you give him a beaming smile, shaking your head before wrapping your arms around his neck once more. “no, i’m feeling fine… i feel… great, actually.”

he gives you a knowing smirk, delving his fingers into your hair before leaning in to give you a chaste kiss, “i must say, i found you to be incredibly sexy the moment you mounted yourself on my shoulder before taking your shot.”

heat was felt blossoming within your veins at his comment, earning a gasp from you when sylus manages to pull you down directly onto his lap, where you felt his hard erection pressing between your legs.

“sy…” you trail off, immediately forgetting what you wanted to say to him when sylus began trailing heated kisses against the base of your throat. you shiver upon feeling his tongue dart out against your skin, tasting you with a soft groan.

“what is it, sweetie?” his voice was hoarse, tinged with a burning desire he reserves only for you. while he kept his mouth busy, littering your skin with tiny bites and lingering kisses, you tremble while feeling the way his hand makes its steady descent down your backside.

tracing the curve of your ass, he grips at it, pulling you oh so much closer to him that you became a tangle of limbs. you were ready for him, legs already spread as your back arches against the seat-

only to have your desires disappear into thin air the moment your movements succeed in making the car horn blaring into the night sky when your elbow hits at the center of the steering wheel.

mortification paints your every expression, with your feelings of embarrassment growing even further the moment sylus began laughing at you. a snarky reply was on the tip of your tongue, yet what ultimately stops you from potentially lashing out at him was the sight of his devastating face twisted in fits of laughter.

the sight of sylus smiling was mesmerizing to you, and you found yourself unable to look away. his laughter felt like music to your ears, and it was impossible for you to break free from him-

for you wanted to burn this very moment within your memories, never wishing to forget.

unable to stop yourself, you lean forward, capturing sylus’s lips in a searing kiss, swallowing the rest of his laughter. he responds to your kiss fervently, hands wrapped possessively around your back while bringing your body closer to him.

when the need for air proved to be too much, sylus was the first to pull away from your kiss, letting out a breathless laugh before holding you close to his chest, “i hope that this isn’t an attempt at seducing me in hopes that i’ll forget about this little incident…?”

you pressed a kiss on his jawline, smiling against his skin, “hm, it depends, is it working?”

a huff of amusement escapes from his parted lips when he moves you toward the passenger seat of the car, where there was no steering wheel that got in the way. sylus was ready to place you back down on his lap, only for you to pull away from him, choosing instead to kneel before him.

sylus lifts up a brow at you, curiosity painting his every expression when he delves his hand into your hair, “and just what are you scheming, kitten?”

with a playful grin spread across your lips, you wink at him before admitting, “that’s for me to know… and you to find out.”

sylus remains in his seated position, waiting with bated breath for your next move. you climb on top of the seat, hands gripping at his leather jacket before sliding it off of him. tossing it aside, your trail your fingertips down his silk shirt, slowly loosening up the buttons of the expensive fabric as you slowly revealed his bare upper body to you.

you were left salivating at the sight of his beautifully sculpted body, hands tracing at the hard wall of muscle while your eyes remained fixated on his chest. licking at your lips, you slowly surged forward, capturing one of his nipples within your hot mouth.

“ngh!” sylus groans in response to your touch, hands already delving themselves back into your hair as you worked on worshipping the man you solely adored with all your heart. the faint, salty taste of his sweat lingering against his skin has you moaning in response as you continue trailing love bites down his chest.

“fuck kitten, you’re drivin’ me insane here…” he lowly growls at you in response, feeling you trail even more kisses down his chest before stopping at his happy trail.

with a seductive smile on your face, you dart out your tongue, licking at those tiny, silvery strands of hair before traveling lower…

not stopping until you were back to your kneeled position. by now, sylus’s breathing had turned into uneven breaths, your name falling from his lips like a reverent prayer when you finally grip at his pants before lowering them. you allow his pants to pool against his ankles, your hungry gaze now aimed at his boxers as you take in the noticeable tent seen against it.

just as you were about to release him from the confines of his boxers, sylus ends up gaining the upper hand when he picks up your pliant form, earning a gasp from you when he lays half your body across the dashboard and the other half on top of him.

“what a naughty kitten you are. did you really think i’d let you win and cave in that easily?” he calls out your name in another lazy drawl before slowly sliding off your pants in one full sweep. the cool air felt hitting at your legs makes you bite down on your bottom lip, “you’re not about to play fair now, are you?”

sylus merely hums in response, slowly working on taking off your blouse before letting the flimsy fabric fall to the ground. when you were left in your undergarments did the onychinus leader make his move, moving aside your panties before plunging his fingers within your heat. “that’s for me to know, and you to find out.”

you were about to glare at him for using your own words against you, but found that you lost all sense of coherency when he began sliding his thick digits in and out of your center. each slow drag of his fingertips brought a new wave of pleasure to course through you, collecting your slick with each motion as you were left moaning with desperation for him.

“oh fuck… this feels s’good…!” your soft mewls echo throughout the car, with your heavy breaths fogging up the windows each time sylus continues his ministrations on your body. he fucks you with his fingers, pinching your swollen clit at the same time until you were left seeing stars by the end of it all.

“fuck!” with one last pump and a slight twist against your bundle of nerves, sylus watches you fall apart for him, spilling your juices down the length of his hand. he watches you with a darkened gaze, seeing your fluids travel down the palm of his hand-

the sight of it all causing a rush of blood to go down his cock.

your walls were still felt clenching around his digits when sylus suddenly removes them from your cunt, replacing where his hand once was with his mouth. he kisses the outer lips of your pussy, tongue diving into your wet walls as he drank up all that you had to offer.

the sounds of his mouth devouring your cunt causes you to clench around his tongue, feeling almost dizzy with pleasure when he manages to reach even deeper inside of you. you could feel his satisfied groan vibrating against you, making you cry out to him. with your climax quickly approaching, you widen your legs for him, ready to spill everything you had into his awaiting mouth-

only to be left frustrated when he pulls away from you once more.

“s-sylus…! what the hell?!” tears of agony fall down your cheeks, and the ache you felt between your legs became even more prominent as you were left clawing at the dashboard. you were so desperate to cum (so close to reaching your peak) that when it was suddenly ripped away from you, you felt as though you were close to dying.

an amused chuckle was heard coming from sylus, and the tears were still blinding your vision that you didn’t notice the shifting of fabric and what it entailed. while you let out a string of curses at him, sylus already had both hands wrapped around your waist before slamming you down on his cock.

the overwhelming ache you once felt from the sudden loss of your climax was immediately replaced by a feeling of satisfaction. sylus was so thick and long that he managed to reach places even you had not been made aware of. your cries immediately morphed into mewls of pleasure when he was fully sheathed inside of you, causing you to babble almost drunkenly in response.

“oh gods, yesss! this is what i wanted for so long.”

sylus clicks his tongue, leaning forward to harshly whisper in your ear while giving your bare ass a hard smack! “ride me, i know you want to sweetie.”

needing no further urging from him, you brace yourself on his shoulder before proceeding to bounce on his cock. your passionate movements causes the car to move as well, with you basking in the pleasure. your eyes began to roll near the back of your head, you back arched as you felt sylus meeting your thrusts with a powerful upward motion.

he grunts, continuing to fuck his hips into you, the squelching sounds of your lovemaking now echoing throughout the car. “sweetie, i swear nothing feels as good as you do…”

you continue to ride him, clinging to him as you eagerly stroked his cock with your wet heat. wishing to be even closer to him, you lean down, capturing sylus’s lips in a sloppy kiss. you continue moving against him, feeling that familiar tightness in your abdomen-

ready to snap at any given moment. you brace yourself on the dashboard, now slamming your hips down on him as this new angle manages to take his cock even deeper inside of you.

and when sylus manages to pinch at your hardened nipples, that was all the urging you needed.

you still your hips, letting out a loud keen as your walls clenched tightly around sylus’s cock. the sensation of your release was what inevitably triggers sylus’s own gratification, with him pumping his cock within your fluttering walls.

he feels the way you continue to clench around him, as if desperate to milk his cock for all he was worth as he keeps himself nestled deep within you. his cock continues to twitch wildly in response to your release, pumping your womb full of his seed as beads of sweat were felt trailing down his face.

your soft moans echo throughout the car, with you weakly bouncing on his softening cock, ensuring that he was completely emptied before falling against him. the air was heavy with the scent of sex and sweat, yet you found yourself not minding it in the slightest-

perhaps you were a bit of a deviant, enjoying the pure and musky scent of sylus claiming you oh so thoroughly?

you were broken out of your reveries when sylus places a lingering kiss against the damp skin of your shoulder, and you had taken it as your cue to finally get off of him.

just as you were ready to lift yourself off of his limp cock, imagine your utter bewilderment when he stops you from moving once more, his eyes still a startling onyx hue as evident to how strong his desire was for you.

“and where do you think you’re going?” he asks you while gently biting down against the lobe of your air. you tremble in response to his touch, “i-i was just getting off of you so we can head back home.”

his rich chuckle echoes throughout the car, and your eyes go wide upon feeling his erection return at full force, letting you know that the night was far from over.

“sweetie, i have no intention of going home just yet, not until i’ve had my fill of you.” he confirms your suspicions with those words, making you let out a drawn out moan when he proceeds to piston his cock into you, his gaze turning almost predatory when your face twists into that of pure and utter pleasure once more-

giving you little choice but to succumb to him and his desires.

end notes: seeing sylus in his new trailer had me feeling some type of way 🤤 enjoy this unedited mess of a post

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

#sylus smut #sylus qin smut #sylus x reader #sylus qin x reader #sylus qin x you #sylus x you #sylus qin x y/n #sylus x y/n #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #lads smut #lnds smut #l&ds smut #lads x reader #lnds x reader #l&ds x reader

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brittle-doughie · 3 days ago

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· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

∘•············•∘ʚ I’ll Take You: Eternal Sugar Cookie ɞ∘•·············•∘

[They miss you…]

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

To each other, you two were a match made in oven. You had an angel would made sure that you were always happy through all kinds of loving affection. And the Sugar of Happiness had a Cookie made for her that she could cherish for as long as she lived. She was all too happy to show you what it meant to feel that joy and love in your heart.

She’d take your hand and fly around the fields of flowers to up in the sky where you two could lay on clouds as you both tell each other’s feelings. Here’s a hint, she loved you and you loved her! Not so much a secret, but always something she loved to hear come from your mouth!

She’d do whatever she could to give you everything and anything, but you’d decline these big gifts she’d give you. It didn’t matter, because as long as you had her, you were always happy. That alone is enough for the Sugar of Happiness to brighten her up the whole day. There was that extra security that you’d never be this close to any Cookie but her!

She was your everything.

To the Sugar of Happiness. You were a Cookie that she can call her everything…

“I never thought that you could make so happy for all these years, my angel…”

“And I could never have been a happier angel without you, my heavenly. I count my stars every day knowing that I was gifted such a wonderful Cookie…”

“What of the other Cookies? I wish they could be as happy as I am with you…”

“I might have the answer for that, my heavenly…”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When she made her paradise, it was to be a place where all Cookies who enter it would be happy. A place where suffering and disease would only be in memory. She gave you your personal spot where all your needs would be met…but to you, that wasn’t what you wanted. You started to see her less and less as she just let her paradise do the work of making you happy. It was her wish after all, to always see you happy.

You wanted her. Your heart yearned for her.

Yes, she’d tend to you when she senses your hurt emotions. You two have that special connection to each other, but she’d now would leave once you’ve calmed down to allow her paradise and the sugar angels to take care of you in her stead.

“My garden is a place where all Cookies must be happy, all of them. I’m sorry I can’t stay like we used to, but that doesn’t mean I love you any less…”

“I want you to stay. I don’t want to be left alone…”

“The Sugar Angels will gift you company, my heavenly. I must welcome the newer guests to my paradise…”

“Wait…”

And she was gone. Just like that…

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You missed those times in the past…

Where she could make Cookies happy while still having enough time for you. Weren’t you meant to be for her? If you can’t be with her always, then what were you anymore?

No matter how many times Eternal Sugar tries to paint a smile on your soul, it never lasts…

You were…unhappy….

…

“What was the world like outside of this place?”

You ponder one night, lying on your back in your bed, looking up at the night sky…was it even a real one?

Just how much of the world would you missing out on when you remained here for all this time?

Were there possibly other places then here that could you feel…happiness? Joy?

….

You hoped your Creators were listening. You ask for them to please give you a sign…

….

…You noticed a faint red string coming from your chest, you somehow didn’t notice that up until now…

You went to reach for it, only for it to somehow come loose and float away into the air…

That felt…freeing? That weight in your chest from your emotions suddenly felt light, as if you weren’t weighed down anymore…

Your angel didn’t pay you mind as much anymore, she won’t seem to fret that much if one Cookie left her paradise…

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The garden stood still.

The Bringer gasped suddenly as she clutched her chest, where her heart was located. She brought a hand to her eyes to see that she was crying, her hands start to tremble as she felt her heart being torn in two…she felt…forgotten…

She immediately knew what was wrong with her…

How was she so foolish…

…

…No.

She won’t allow it to end like this.

She can make you happy, just like she should’ve always been doing…

And if you refuse, she’ll just have to take you…

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You had taken your first steps into this new world, for you. It wasn’t anything like the paradise, with the variety of colors and plants that littered the placed.

You were nervous about this, but you also felt excited.

What did this world have in store for you-

“Heavenly….? Where are you going…?”

You froze up at the worried voice behind you, knowing it too well to mistake it for any Cookie.

“I was just wondering what outside the garden was like. You told me not to go out in fear of monsters, but..I just wanted to see it had in store.”

“Heavenly…”

“Please, call me Y/N Cookie…”

This formality only brought fear to Eternal Sugar’s heart. It was like you two were just strangers in comparison to the soulmates you two always were…it only made her want to get you more quickly…

“Y/N Cookie. I’m relieved to hear you were only curious. Please return to the garden, I..want to talk to you there about something.”

“I’m not going anywhere, you can tell me…”

“Y/N Cookie-“

“Stop.”

…

“I’m sorry….”

“Sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have left you alone like I did. My paradise was meant to make every Cookie that live in it happy, but I failed to see that doing that only made you unhappy.”

“No, that was just your duty. It was just how…you’d leave me to let your paradise make me happy when you’re the only one that can…”

“I see that now! So please, come back with me! I want to make this right! To have things go back to how they were!”

“I’m sorry too, my angel. The world is calling for me, and I want to see what it can give me for my own happiness now…”

Eternal Sugar sighed solemnly. It looked like she really ruined things now….

And she aims to fix that.

“Your happiness is with me.”

She immediately flew at you and grabbed you, you try to resist as she pulled you back towards the garden.

“My angel, please!”

“Don’t worry, my heavenly! I’ll make things better!”

“You’re holding me too tightly!”

“Why wouldn’t I? I need to show you how much I love you!”

“If you love me, you’d set me free!”

“But I REALLY love you, so I’ll keep you here with me! Oh, just think of the memories we can make here!”

She held your face close to hers…

“Don’t you get it, my love?”

“You’re EVERYTHING to me….”

You’d never get to see the world. Why would you? SHE is your world now…

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

#cookie run #cookie run x reader #cookie run x you #cr x reader #cookie run kingdom #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cr kingdom #eternal sugar cookie x reader #eternal sugar cookie #yandere eternal sugar cookie #eternal sugar x reader #eternal sugar crk

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unrequi · 22 hours ago

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I don’t think I will be able to part with the bits of you that remain in my heart. Your gentleness, your sweetness, your carefulness, and your steadiness. They were a large part of my world for a few months and now I must rebuild and recalibrate when all I want to do is to know, to ask you questions, and for you to laugh at the things I say. I don’t get to hear you sigh or take a deep breathe or apologize for rambling. I don’t get to sit next to you anymore or hear my name on your mouth. I don’t get to hope for what is next, I don’t get to hope for shared presence and those were fragments of my world. I have to rebuild, I must rebuild, and you are not in the blueprint anymore and I ache and I ache and I ache. I reach for sentiment or nostalgia to soothe yet it seems to prolong the ache. I cannot stop the ache, the ache of the possibility of friendship with you, as that will never be, that cannot be because my feelings are too intense, and this intensity cannot and must not ever be revealed to you, even though part of me wishes you knew it all. I don’t know if I can ever say your name out loud without experiencing the ache, the knowing that our worlds must stay apart. I will learn to walk with this grief, I will learn to exist and even thrive while holding this grief. The grief will never go away yet I will integrate it and I will become, because of you and all the wonderful things you made me feel.

John Keats, from a letter to Fanny Brawne, featured in The Selected Letters of John Keats

#unsent texts #unsent messages #unsent letters #unrequited thoughts #unrequited pining #unrequited affection #unrequited #unrequited feelings #unrequited love #friend crush #acespec #ace pride #asexual #queer platonic love #queer platonic attraction #queerplatonic

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monstersflashlight · 15 hours ago

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Patreon commission for KnottyWitch

Request: Werewolf x chubby reader with portals, free use, knotting, rut????

Depraved approach

Werewolf x chubby fem!reader || sex toy, sex portal, free use (kinda), breeding, knotting, feral sex/rut, overstimulation, squirting, (very light) dirty talk

You can hear the howls of your werewolf neighbor as the moon starts to rise.

You don’t know much about werewolves, but you know enough to know he must be entering his rut. A part of you wants to be the one helping him, you want it more than anything, because you’ve been crushing on him since the day he knocked on your door with a fresh batch of cookies and a wolfish smile (pun intended) that made your panties wet.

Since then, your crush has only gotten increasingly intense, to the point where you might even say that you were already a bit in love with him. That’s why you left a bag with a little present on his door this evening... A fleshlight.

An enchanted fleshlight.

Having a witch for a best friend has its perks, like getting her to enchant a fleshlight to make a pussy-portal, or at least that’s what she called it. It was supposed to be a sex toy for him to use… and hopefully you’d feel it while he did. The sex toy is to be felt by the receiver only if both parties had a mutual attraction, and you’re hoping you do.

Is it a very weird way to approach your crush? Yes.

Is it depraved? Absolutely.

Did you feel bad about it? Not at all.

If things went as you expected, in about an hour, you’ll have a werewolf dick pounding into your pussy, and if you’re extra lucky, you’d get his knot. Your knees are already shaky thinking about it. You get yourself ready, sipping a nice wine as you munch on your dinner, putting on soft music, just chilling around in your house.

But you shouldn’t have.

Because the second you feel something at the entrance of your pussy, you’re completely lost. He drives in with one hard thrust, his dick hitting so deep, so fast that you’re already about to lose it. You make your way to your room on unsteady legs and trembling knees as he keeps fucking into you. You try to reduce your moaning to a minimum as you get to your room, more than sure that he can hear you from downstairs.

By the time you’re on your bed and pulling your clothes off, your pussy is so wet your panties are ruined. He’s fucking you relentlessly, and you can barely move enough to get the rest of your underwear off before you feel the first telltale sign of a knot expanding at the entrance of your pussy.

You don’t think. You don’t process it. You can only scream his name at the top of your lungs as the fat knot presses against your G-spot and your fingers find your clit, rubbing furiously as you come around him. You hear the second he realizes the portal goes both ways, howling to the moon as you feel the first shot of his come hitting your cervix. Fuck, fuck, fuck… You knew that was going to happen, but the feeling of his come filling you up only sends you higher, shaking on the mattress as your orgasm rocks your body and your eyes roll back into your head.

You hear a howl louder than the rest, and your pussy squeezes against the knot inside of you once again as more juices come gushing out of you. Just like last time, you hear a roar at the same time as you scream, another orgasm hitting you completely by surprise. Maybe you pass out for a second, or two, or maybe for a couple of minutes, because when you come back to your senses, someone is pounding on your door and you aren’t sure you can get your legs to work to go see who it is.

“I know you’re home! Open this door so I can stuff your pretty cunt next and stop playing with a toy!” His voice is way too loud, there’s no way the rest of your neighbors didn’t hear what he just said, but fuck if you care.

“It’s open!” You cry back, your pussy squeezing around his knot once again.

But this time, you open your eyes in time to see him in front of you, the pink fleshlight held tight against his dick, still buried deep inside. He twists it around a little, and you let out an undignified cry of pleasure when the top of his knot presses against your G-spot. G

“You do not leave your door open again,” he growls.

The sound only makes your pussy squeeze again, he grunts, approaching you on the bed, his eyes blown wide and his fangs exposed. You shiver, rolling your hips to get more friction. He stops your movements with his claws on your hips, a threat, but one you aren’t going to listen to. You do it again and he moans, his teeth bared and his dick sending a new shot of come into your pussy. It’s starting to drip down, and he realizes the second it does.

He looks at your pussy, completely focused on his come dripping down. “Why are you dripping with come?”

“The fleshlight… Fuck. It’s enchanted. Good goddess… The fleslight... It’s a portal,” you struggle to say.

“Are you saying my come is IN YOU right now?” His tone gets higher at the end, and you nod, feeling too hot and bothered to form more words.

He clearly doesn’t care about your struggles, because next thing you know he’s pushing two fingers inside of you. The combination of his knot and his fingers is enough to send your body into another orgasm from the stretch.

But it doesn’t end there- he’s a werewolf in rut and you’re nothing but his toy right now. He starts finger fucking you as you continue to feel shot after shot of his come hitting deep inside. The feeling of his knot still buried in the fleshlight is pressing against your G-spot when he decides to press right there with his fingers as well.

You’d never felt anything like it, your whole body shakes with the force of it, and something inside of you breaks.

You lose consciousness of your body, of your mouth, of everything that’s not that point in your pussy and the way you’re gushing around his fingers, the way you’re… peeing? Fuck. You’re squirting all over him.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Your orgasm feels infinite as he keeps rutting against the toy and his fingers keep playing with your G-spot as if he’s playing a shooter game on his computer and pressing the left mouse button over and over. He does this until you’re crying and the pleasure is blinding. Even through the blinding pleasure, you’re still coming.

The bliss causes you to pass out again, which should have been expected by then.

You come back to him licking the tears away, and you can’t feel his knot inside of you anymore, but his fingers are still buried deep inside of you, making you moan. The sound alerts him of you being back in the land of the living, and he’s soon kissing your forehead.

“I couldn’t let my seed drip down,” he explains as if it’s the most logical thing, and you have no energy to argue. Apparently your body still has enough energy to clench around his fingers, though. “You like that? You like being stuffed full of come?” You shiver and he takes that as the ‘yes’ you were intending for it to be. His body moves over you on the mattress, and before you can process it, his dick is pressing against your opening: “Are you ready to feel it for real?”

He doesn’t wait for your response before he’s pushing his cock inside in one long and drawn out thrust. The feeling of him sliding into you causes your eyes to roll back while you moan and greedily push your hips up to get more of him.

You have to admit, your depraved ideas certainly have their perks sometimes.

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fromdove · 15 hours ago

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𝓓AMIAN 𝓐L-𝓖HUL-𝓦AYNE 𝓘N-𝓛OVE ! 𝓗EAD𝓒ANONS

∿　　 . `💭` ㆍ

he doesn't fall in love. not gracefully, at least. it's not gentle, it's not a slow sunrise. it’s a collision. like two stars devouring each other, or a falcon in a nosedive — sharp, precise, inevitable. "I do not fall. I descend, and I choose where to land."

he tries so hard not to let it show. tries. but his affection leaks out in places he doesn’t expect — in the softening of his voice when he says your name, in the way he memorizes the exact number of eyelashes you have when you’re half-asleep beside him.

at first, he watches you like you’re a weakness. a vulnerability. but then it turns into something else. something older. something more sacred. like the way ancient warriors prayed to the moon before battle. and you — you are the moon. ("You must understand," he’d say, voice hoarse, "I would gut the world to keep you safe.")

he draws you. duh. but not just sketches of your face. no, he draws your hands mid-gesture. your footprints in snow. your silhouette reflected in the backseat window of the Batmobile. things you wouldn’t even notice about yourself, but he does.

he writes letters to you he never sends. not because he’s shy — please — but because they are too bare. too alive. like he’s holding out his beating heart on an altar and going, “Here. Be careful with it.” they’re kept folded in a small leather-bound book under his mattress. excerpts include: "You said you liked the rain. Today I stood in it for too long. I wanted to see if I could become something you'd love.""I do not believe in God. But I believe in you. I believe in your laugh. I believe in the way your hands shake when you're angry.""Mother would call this foolish. Father would call this dangerous. Grayson would smile and say it’s good for me. I don’t care what any of them think. I only care about how you said my name today, like it meant something.”

he’s not overly touchy. but when he does touch you, it’s with this unbearable reverence. like you are a piece of art behind museum glass and he’s been handed white gloves and permission to hold you anyway.

forehead kisses are his favourite. they’re the most knight-like thing he can do. a silent vow whispered into your skin.

jealousy? oh. dear lord. he doesn’t rage. he doesn’t throw tantrums. he just… sharpens. his eyes go blade-cold. his posture becomes razored still. he’ll slip next to you, rest a hand on the small of your back, and say, “Is this one bothering you?” (he already knows the answer. he’s just waiting for permission.)

he sends you riddles as a form of flirtation. little notes. clues. cryptic messages in your locker or slipped into your textbooks. and they always lead to something ridiculous and beautiful like a rooftop picnic, or a pressed flower between pages, or a single sentence carved into wood: “you are my sanctuary.”

he remembers. every dumb little thing you ever mention. your favorite constellation. the poem you mumbled once in your sleep. the exact shape of the scar on your knee from when you were seven. he stores it all like it’s intel. because to him, it is. knowing you is his mission. his joy. his favourite kind of battle.

when he first says “I love you,” it’s not loud. it’s not showy. it’s not some big cinematic moment with fireworks and strings. it’s quiet. it’s 3:42 a.m. your head’s on his chest. he thinks you’re asleep. and he whispers it like a secret too holy for daylight. "I love you. I love you. I love you." once for the soul. once for the body. once for the heart. just in case.

but when you say it back? it undoes him. he doesn’t smile. not really. he looks… shattered. but in the best way. like a glacier cracking open at spring’s first kiss. he stares at you like you’ve rewritten gravity. and then — only then — does he kiss you like the world might actually be worth saving.

he has learned not to laugh too loud. not to lean too far into softness, because softness, to damian, has always meant danger— the kind that drips down walls and pools beneath your feet. (he is his mother's child, after all. and his father's. a war-bred thing, caught somewhere between dynasty and duty.)

but sometimes—sometimes—you will catch him. in the manor’s greenhouse, sleeves rolled up, soil smudging the corner of his jaw, talking to a sunflower like it’s an old friend. or crouched on the rooftop, chin tilted to the wind, reciting The Rubaiyat under his breath as if the universe might listen:

"Ah, love! could thou and I with fate conspire / to grasp this sorry scheme of things entire..." (he will never finish the line. it ends too tenderly. too wanting.)

after you two started dating, he started drinking his tea with two sugar cubes because you've taught him he's allowed to want sweet things in his life.

he doodles your face in the margins of his mission reports.

when you're not around, he ends up feeding that blasted stray cat you usually feed. even when it scratches him. ‘Tch. Ridiculous. I don’t know why they insist on this nonsense.’

he loves too sharply. too secretly. too much.

because damian wayne’s love is the kind that carves. the kind that bleeds. the kind that stays tucked under his tongue like a secret oath. he won’t say it. not with words. but he’ll wrap your lunch with surgical precision. he’ll threaten anyone who makes you cry. he’ll stab a man and look you in the eye and say,

“He deserved worse.” (but his hand will shake, later, when no one’s looking.)

You must understand—Damian’s heart is no tame thing. Not unloved. Just feral. A wild pulse, like the Lazarus Pit’s fire that once licked the bones of his grandfather. He is trying. Relentlessly, quietly trying.

and on the rare nights he sleeps—properly sleeps, not half-alert with a knife under the pillow— he dreams in the shade of your eyes, your lips, your hair, your skin the sweetness of those foolish biscuits you bake for him. (He claims they’re “too sweet,” but always eats them in silence.) He dreams of you running through snow, Titus at your side, his tail snapping like a banner in the winter wind.

and sometimes he wakes with a start, fingers curled like claws into the bedsheets, whispers of something soft still echoing in his chest, and he thinks—

what a stupid, reckless, damned thing it is, to want.but oh, i do. i do.

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coldfanbou · 1 day ago

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Paying to Forget

Here we go! So with this idea, it was pretty simple and basic breeding stuff. Considering the plot, which was Mother's Day-based, would be a little late, I changed it. Instead, I shifted things. Previously, this piece was a short thing written for a writer's prompt that you may have seen. I have added to it and made it a little kinkier. Please enjoy fellow Emma lovers.

Length 2K

Emma X Mreader

“How are you doing, mister? You seem down.” A woman asks you, bending over to be at eye level with you as you look up. “I can help you with that.” You meet the woman’s eyes and ask her name. “Call me Emma,” she says, smiling and shaking her head, her red hair shining in the evening light. The two of you continue the conversation, where you learn Emma was an escort. “If you really want to forget about her, you can come with me.” Emma is proactive, sitting on your lap and caressing your face. “Come on, Daddy.” She says softly. You glance up at her, meeting her smirk. Emma was reading you like a book, figuring out what you’re into just by meeting your gaze. “I’ll let you make me a mommy.” You agree, and Emma climbs off your lap, taking you by the hand and hailing a taxi for the two of you.

You exit the taxi with Emma and stare at the building in front of you, nervous.“Come on, Daddy. Don’t you want to go inside?” Emma says in a low, sultry voice. She runs her fingernail along your chest, slowly rising to your neck and finally stopping at your chin. “I thought you wanted to have some fun.” You stare at the door to the love hotel, wondering if you should go through with it. “That wife of yours cheated on you. Why shouldn’t you get to have some fun?” She whispers to you like a devil on your shoulder. “I’ll make sure to make all your worries disappear.” Emma grabs your hand, leading you inside as the last of your doubts fades away.

You pay for the room, enter the elevator, and head to the top floor where your room is. You step out and see it at the end of the hallway. Emma grabs the key card from you before intertwining her fingers with yours as she holds your hands and runs ahead. You follow her, listening to her laugh as she taps the card and pushes the door aside. There was something about the way she led you that was infatuating.

Emma wastes no time, getting you to the bed and pushing you onto it. Emma might be on the smaller side, but her spirit more than made up for it. Once you’re on the bed, Emma straddles you, placing her hands on your chest as she leans over you. “Oh, Daddy, I’ll make sure you forget her. I’ll be the only thing on your mind.” Emma kisses you, her lips lingering against yours as her hands move to your bulge, rubbing it gently. “Do you want me to use my mouth?” She says, pouting. Emma’s plump lips made you think about how skilled she must be. You nod, Emma could do anything to you, and you’d probably be fine with it.

The young woman pulls down your pants and rubs your cock through your boxers, licking her lips as she feels your cock harden. You stare at Emma, watching her smirk grow larger as she pulls on the waistband and frees your cock. It springs forward toward her, nearly smacking her face. It spooks her, making her move back, but she laughs. Emma grabs it gently, her grip slowly getting tighter as she runs her hand up and down your shaft. “You nearly hit me, Daddy. Do you want me that much?” She doesn’t let you answer, rushing forward to kiss you again. “Do you want to see something special?” She asks, pulling the bottom of her top up to reveal her perky tits. Dark brown nipples topped her tanned breasts. Emma felt your cock when she grabbed it again. Your stare and your body told her enough. “Thank you for liking them, Daddy,” She says, shaking her upper body so her tits bounced. Your cock twitched again, “You better not cum soon. You’re going to make me a mommy, remember?”

You were putty in her hands. Even if you knew it meant nothing in the back of your mind. You wanted nothing more than to put a baby in this young woman.

Emma bent over, her hot breath hitting your head before you felt her tongue run along the underside. “I don’t think I’ll be able to fit you inside,” She says, flicking the tip of your cock with her tongue. The young woman presses her lips against the head, taking it in and wrapping her lips around the tip of your cock, her tongue gently lapping it. Emma’s tongue was small, but it felt fantastic. It moved over your tip, in small circles, swirling around you as she stared into your eyes.

“Ah, Emma.” You groan, her warm tongue swirling around the tip.

“Yes, Daddy?” She asks, a smile on her face as she takes control. “What is it, Daddy?” She asks when you don’t respond; while she waits, Emma moves her tongue quickly over the head. It makes it harder for you to come up with any words.

“You’re so good at this,” you manage to mumble.

Emma smiles and pulls away, “It’s my job.” Emma wraps her lips around your cock, forming a tight seal as she sucks it, her cheeks hollowing. You groan, pleasure coursing through your body. When Emma starts to bob her head, you're taken to another world. Her tongue slides along the underside of your cock as she moves toward the base, you feel her lips pressed against your pelvis, kissing it before she moves back. You leak precum onto her tongue. Emma pulls you out of her mouth, giggling as she pushes a finger into her mouth. “You taste so good, Daddy. It feels like you’re getting close to cumming.” Emma reaches down, cupping your balls. “And these are so heavy, you must have so much baby batter in here…and it’s all for me.” Emma giggles, leaning over to kiss your balls.

Emma stands up and unbuttons her pants, letting them fall to the floor; her lacy black panties were the only barrier now, and they disappeared just as quickly. Emma spun them around her finger, tossing them to the side as you stared at her. You took in Emma’s tanned body, noticing her toned stomach. “I was a dancer,” she says casually before climbing onto the bed and straddling you. Emma grinds against you slowly; she moans softly and grabs your hands, placing them on her tits. “Mmm, Daddy, I want you,” she moans, rocking back and forth over you. Emma’s slick lips glide along your cock.

“I want you, Emma.”

The young woman smiles. Emma grabs your cock, rubbing it against her folds before pressing it against her entrance and sinking onto it. She tilts her head back, letting her low moans fill the room as you stretch her cunt. “Ah, Daddy, you’re so big,” she moans as she slows down, taking her time as she finishes taking in your cock. Emma leans back, swiveling her hips. Your cock rubs agaisnt her walls, bringing you both the pleasure you desired. You grip Emma’s toned thighs, holding them tightly as she rocks back and forth on your cock. Emma coos at your rough touch and brings herself forward, grabbing your hands and moving them back to her tits, making you knead them. Her hard nipple rubs against your palm as she begins to ride you in earnest.

Your grip on her tits grows rougher as you feel how tight she is. Emma smiles, enjoying the roughness. She begins to bounce on your cock, rising until just the tip was in before slamming herself back down onto it. Every time Emma bounces on your cock, she becomes a little faster. The sound of your bodies colliding fills the room. She leans down, kissing you, her tongue invading your mouth as she continues to ride you. You both moan into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of each other’s bodies. When Emma pulls back, you pinch her nipples, leading to them being pulled taut. Emma cries out, the pleasure beginning to overwhelm her. A tightness begins to form in her core.

Your hands move down to her waist for a moment before reaching for her ass. You spank her roughly, earning yourself a cry of pleasure from Emma. “You’re being so rough, Daddy.” Her moans grow louder with each subsequent hit.

“You’re such a naughty girl,” you grunt through the pleasure. “Making me breed you.”

“Only for you,” She whines, continuing to ride as you grab her ass and begin thrusting. Emma’s moans can barely be contained now; if anyone were in a room next to yours, they would hear her easily. “I’m cumming!” Emma cries out, pleasure overtaking her. You were close to cumming too. You thrust quickly, driving your cock deep into Emma before burying yourself inside and pumping her full of your baby batter. Emma rocks her hips as you cum, letting her walls flex around your cock in different positions, draining you of your cum. She tilts her head back, groaning as she feels your warm semen being pumped into her. You feel months worth of saved cum pour into Emma.

As she returns her gaze to you, Emma rubs her stomach, “Mmm, Daddy.” The young woman savors the feeling. “You were really trying to put a baby in me.” She plants a kiss on your cheek as you rest. You end up falling asleep, the orgasm exhausting you. Emma climbs off of you, your cum pouring out of her. She places hand over the slit, letting your cum fill her palm before bringing it to her lips, and eating it. A bright idea hits Emma at that moment. She searches through your things, grabbing your phone and setting it up on a drawer. She sets a timer and snaps pictures of herself, her legs spread apart to reveal the absolute mess that was her cunt. Globs of cum pouring out of her onto the bed. She knew you would appreciate something like this when you woke up.

Emma grabbed your phone after, taking time to edit the pictures, putting small text over them. “Daddy came so much. I’ll definitely get pregnant. Daddy’s cock is the best.” She put it all over the picture. Emma giggled, enjoying herself before looking at your sleeping form, your cock still hard. One more idea came to her. She crawled between your legs, grabbing your cock with one hand while she began to film herself with the other. “Hi, Daddy! I hope you had a good time with me. I wanted to leave you a little something. I hope you like this.” She said before using her tongue on your cock, swirling it around the tip before taking the whole thing in her mouth. Emma would glance at the camera as she sucked your cock. Her tongue worked to clean your cock as she bobbed her head. She would occasionally take a small break to compliment your performance, saying things like, “You were so good, Daddy. My pussy feels nice and full after you came in me and your cum is so good. I think I might get addicted.” Emma finished you off soon enough, leaving your cock clean and pulling itout of her mouth with a pop.

The young woman ended the recording with a peace sign and put your phone back in your pants before using your shower to clean herself up. She smiled as she glanced at your sleeping body when she came out of the shower. She went to your pants, looking through them for your wallet, grabbing a few large bills before putting them back. Emma checked the clock before walking over to the nightstand, grabbed a pen, and left you a note to wake up to before getting out of your room. She made sure to leave a “do not disturb” sign on your door as she went on her way.

When you wake up, you find the note from Emma. “Thanks for the good time, Daddy. I took my payment. I hope we can do this again; I’ll meet you in the park when you want to have some more fun. Here’s my number, and check your phone for something nice.” A winking face was drawn at the end.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #badvillain smut #Emma smut

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captainpriceslilwife · 2 days ago

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pt. 3 of gaz x insecure!reader :)))))

[part 1, part 2, part 3]

He’s late.

He went through all that trouble of convincing you of how genuine he was about taking you on a date, just to be late.

He just wanted to do something nice for you. Something to actually make you smile in his presence instead of tense up or cry, but the universe seems to work against him when it comes to making you happy. Which is how he ended up here – desperately trying to buy flowers from the old Scottish woman on the street corner that he’s certain has been around since the Cambrian age. He really needs to stop taking Johnny’s advice.

“How much for the sunflowers, ma’am?” He’s been trying to be as polite as he can, but the poor woman doesn’t seem to notice how his hand is tapping nervously at his thigh or how he checks his watch every two seconds. She just hobbles around with a smile, pointing at all of the other flowers on her stand and telling him some long-winded story of her youth about each of them.

“Eh?” Oh, and she was deaf in one ear. Something that wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t have to keep repeating himself every single time he asked a question. “Wha’ did ye say, luvie?” “The sunflowers.” He enunciates impatiently as he leans towards her right ear, only for her to blink in confusion at him. “How much?” A wide smile breaks out on her face as she gestures to the bucket of sunflower bouquets, and Kyle softens a bit now that he thinks he can finally finish this up. Maybe he might even make it on time if he really books it…

“Ah, ye can take as many as ye’d like!”

Christ.

“No, no-“ A tense sigh escapes his lips as he takes out his wallet, trying to get it in her frame of vision before he loses her attention again. “Money. How much money?” But she’s not even looking at him anymore. Her white, fluffy brows are furrowed like she’s deep in thought, and she’s got her eye on one of the giant displays of pink and red flowers next to him. “Say, didn’ ye say this is fer yer girl? Ah still think she’d like some roses instead…more romantic, ya ken? Ah’ve got plenty different ones for ye, just gimme a wee second. Ye really should take a look-” “No, ma’am, please…I-I don’t have a second.” He’s starting to wonder if he should just give up, but the thought of showing up late and empty-handed makes him feel so guilty that it makes his stomach lurch. “Please, I just want to pay for the…” But it’s too late. She’s already toddled off behind the cart, hunched over and spouting some story about how her late husband bought her roses every Sunday. “…the sunflowers.”

He can only imagine what you must be thinking right now.

And then there’s you.

You, who had gotten up embarrassingly early that morning to get ready for your date. You had cursed yourself for agreeing to meet him so early as you rushed around your room, trying to pick out an outfit and do your hair in a way that made you feel like you looked alright without drawing too much attention to yourself. You had changed five times – constantly questioning if you looked like you put too much effort in – so you put even more effort into dulling yourself down.

You even had to give yourself a pep talk in the mirror before you could gather the courage to leave the house.

You’re okay. This is okay. This is what normal people do. They go on dates. If he sucks, you can just leave! That’s allowed…yeah…yeah, I can just leave. And I look good…I look…great. It’s his loss! Well, he hasn’t lost anything yet, but-

And now here you were – poor thing. All alone at one of the tables in the corner with a cup of coffee in front of you.

You were already a ball of nervous energy when you had walked in – messing with your hair and fixing your outfit every couple of seconds as you hovered around the entrance, looking around and waiting for him. You lit up when you're phone dinged with a notification, but your smile fell as quickly as it came when you read the words. 'I'm running a bit late, but I'll be there soon, I swear'

Oh.

It really is a prank. He’s not coming.

You could feel your hands trembling as you looked down at your phone, feeling utterly betrayed as those tiny black words stared back at you.

What’s even worse is the fact that you realize that you feel betrayed by yourself, not him. You should have known better; you should have known that this would happen. Your brain preens at the realization that it was right – you weren’t someone worth his time - but your heart begins to develop that familiar ache it's gotten so accustomed to.

‘I’m so sorry, love. I’m nearly there, I promise.’

You can feel your eyes begin to brim with tears, but you can hear a tiny little voice in the back of your head telling you to wait for him - just to see. Maybe he really is running late. Maybe something came up. Maybe he's just as nervous as you are and he took to long to get ready.

Maybe, maybe, maybe...

Maybe you're just the idiot that can't seem to learn her lesson.

You take in a sharp inhale, steeling yourself as much as you can as you slip your phone into your purse, ignoring the incessant buzzing coming from within as you make your way inside the coffee shop.

You had spent so long getting ready - you weren't about to go home and waste all of your hard work just because of some idiot guy. No...you'd get yourself the coffee that you had been excited for.

Because you're all you have.

All you'll ever have, apparently.

You try to seem casual as you place your order, but even the barista can hear the waver in your voice and the way you look around the coffee shop, like you're waiting for some hidden group of friends to come out and laugh at you - the punchline to some sick joke.

But nothing comes, except for your coffee, which you take and shuffle over to some secluded corner where you can wallow on your own. Luckily for you, nobody seems to pay you any mind, even when the tears you had been holding back finally begin to slip down your cheeks and you have to take a sip your coffee to stop the sob that threatens to escape from your lips.

You're so lost in your own thoughts that you don't notice his form sprinting past the window beside you, but your head snaps up when the bell above the door jangles abruptly and the door slams against the wall.

Your heart practically leaps from your chest when you see how disheveled he looks - chest heaving as he wipes the sweat from his forehead, and he has...flowers. Sunflowers, to be specific. Your favorite.

He brought you flowers?

He stands in the doorway - ignoring the disapproving look that the barista sends his way as his head swivels around to look for you.

You begin to wipe at your tears hastily, partially hiding yourself from view as you curse quietly to yourself for ruining the makeup you had worked so hard on that morning.

Once his eyes land on you, you can see his eyes flash with relief before he begins to make his way over to you - murmuring politely 'excuse me' 'sorry, love' 'right behind you, darling' as he pushes through the tables that lie between the two of you.

“You’re still here! Oh thank god…here.” He pants breathlessly, holding out the sunflowers, which you take hesitantly – and he tries not to fall to his knees to beg for forgiveness when he sees the red rim beneath your eyes, or when he hears you sniffle quietly. "Oh, god, love…I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I-"

You wave your hand pathetically, trying to brush off the fact that you had been crying - but for some reason you can't stop your lip from wobbling once more, though this time it was because of something you've never felt before. Something you couldn't name. But it felt like some old version of you was finally getting what she deserved.

Someone who actually liked her.

And poor Kyle - he can see how you're eyes are growing glossy again, and he thinks he's ruined absolutely everything.

"Ah, shit…” He motions to the bouquet pathetically, silently trying to communicate why it took him so long to get there, but he feels more and more like an idiot the longer he looks at it.

It’s not enough.

Maybe if he was late because of a thousand bouquets, he’d feel less guilty, but right now? Seeing you with tears streaming down your pretty face?

He wishes someone had run him over when he ran through oncoming traffic to get to you.

“Flowers. I was just trying to bring you flowers, a-and the woman – she was so old.” He blubbers, clearly still out of breath as he rests his hands against his hips, but he still scrambles over himself to try to explain the situation – honestly, he feels like he might faint with how flustered he is. “I wanted to do something nice for you, you know? Just to, you know...make up for everything. A-And I asked my idiot friend for advice, and I swear he must have it out for me – recommending a family friend…a bloody Mrs. Gillies-“

And the whole time he’s stumbling over his words, he’s just waiting for the moment where you stand up and throw those flowers right back in his face. Maybe your coffee for good measure. He feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest, but his rambling immediately comes to a halt when he sees your wobbling lips stretch into a smile.

You’re smiling.

Why on earth are you smiling?

He’s frozen in shock as he blinks down at you, and he swears his heart comes to a stop when you choke out a little laugh.

Oh, god, he’s done it now. You’ve lost it. He’s gone and made you absolutely lose your mind.

Your teary eyes meet his, and you give him a pitiful, watery smile that knocks the wind right out of him like a swift punch to the gut. It’s not until you open your mouth that his hands stop shaking, and he finally understands what mercy feels like.

“Mrs. Gillies?” You giggle out through your tears, bringing your hand up to wipe at your damp cheeks. You don’t seem like you’re mad at him. You should be, honestly – even he’s mad at himself. “Oh...well, no wonder you were late. She’s, uh…certainly a talker. I used to work with her when I was a teenager…surprised she’s still alive, honestly.”

He’s never felt himself relax so quickly in his life.

His shoulders drop as he lets out a breathless chuckle, thanking whatever god was listening that he hasn’t entirely screwed this up. He rubs the back of his neck nervously before he sits down across from you, flashing you a smile that shows how guilty he’s still feeling.

“God, I feel like such a prick. She just kept going on and on and I was losing my head thinking of you waiting on me, so I just…I just left her fifty quid and took the flowers while her back was turned.”

The laugh you let out is music to his ears, and he swears he must look like a love-struck puppy as he watches you lift your hand to cover up your sweet smile. One that he had worked so hard to try to pull out of you, even if you're still wiping the leftover tears away from your eyes.

He’ll get you to stop hiding it soon.

“You know, I bet she hasn’t even noticed that you left.” You keep your voice low as you lean in, like you’re scared she’ll somehow hear you speaking poorly of her, but it doesn’t stop you from giggling quietly to yourself. “She’s probably talking to a couple of lilies right now, thinking it’s you.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up into a small smirk as his eyes roam over your face, trying to take in every detail of the gorgeous smile pulling at your lips - the one that he finally gets the privilege to see. “Lilies? I’ll be honest, love, I always struck myself as the rose type.”

It’s such a stupid joke – one that he silently curses himself for the second it leaves his mouth – but you laugh so genuinely that he feels like the sun has burrowed itself in his chest. He knows he's gone the moment he realizes he'd do anything in the world to hear that sound spill from your lips just one more time.

“You look gorgeous, by the way. Absolutely stunning. Did you- you curled your hair didn't you? It looks nice..."

And instead of tensing up like you did before when he tried to compliment you, your smile turns shy and you hide your blush behind your mug as you take a sip - murmuring a bashful 'thank you' in response.

He feels like he could take over the bloody world with the way his chest swells in pride.

But his eyes flit down to your drink as you place it back down on the table, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear as you try to work up the courage to glance back up at him.

"That the drink I owe you?" He nudges his chin to gesture towards the coffee in your hands, still feeling a slight pang of guilt in his chest for being late and making you doubt yourself, and him.

But you just shrug your shoulders and give him a playful smile - one that makes his knees grow weak and his heart grow three sizes in his chest. "Should've been here on time."

Now it's his turn to laugh, and he shakes his head as he leans his arms against the table to tilt himself closer to you. "I should've. It's a shame, really...making an angel like you wait on me."

You let out a quiet scoff and roll your eyes, but there's no malice in it - especially when you sport another bright blush and supressed smile.

"Guess I still owe you, then." He murmurs softly, a bit more genuinely - just to show how serious he is about you.

He watches as you cast a glance over at the bright yellow bouquet you had propped up on the seat beside you, and he can see how hot your cheeks are, even as you hide your smile behind your hand - and he can’t help but smile along with you. He’d listen to that old woman talk for days just to fill every room in your place with sunflowers if it meant he could see that look on your face every time he saw you.

"I guess you do." You nod coyly as you run your thumb over the lip of your mug, finally pulling your eyes up to meet his. "You'll have to make it up to me next time...and don't be late."

Next time.

He huffs out another relieved laugh, already melting under your gaze as he brings his eyes up to meet yours.

"Wouldn't dream of it, love."

A/N: I'm so sorry for the wait for this! I hit a block halfway through and was struggling to get my thoughts into words, but I hope this was okay! I’m not sure that there would be another part after this, unless some specific scenario between the two of them was requested. I also thought abt doing some random blurbs or headcannons with the two of them but idk! also the amount of Gaz + sunflower content I saw while writing this was insane. I’d like to think that everyone was blasted with a universal divine imagery of Gaz with sunflowers and everyone did their own thing and it’s all magical. Though, I also felt like I was going insane seeing everyone’s content bc I thought I was manifesting it. Anyway.

Taglist: @vixyyvix, @little-mini-me-world, @miyo-0oo, @milanriol, @z-wantstowrite, @nexthyperfix, @minminiie, @just-pure-trash, @the-ferret-of-fandoms, @my-anime-garden, @doinstime, @kaoyamamegami, @my-fandom-space (I did keep the ppl from the first part tagged even though it wasn’t requested, hope that's ok :)!)

#credits to @saradika-graphics for the divider!!#kyle garrick x insecure!reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick imagine #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #cod x reader #cod imagine #captainpriceslilwife

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melodead · 2 days ago

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you know from experience that hungry students will go through many, many lengths to sate that hunger—and that’s why you’ve decided to hike a mountain on a school night.

you take a cutting of berries and slide them into the glass jar. hopefully, these aren’t poisonous. they’ll need to be checked by professor crewel first, obviously, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. grim might survive eating poison. you, on the other hand? not so much. a specialist would need to vet them first.

“i wouldn’t recommend eating those, if that’s what you’re planning.”

or a very knowledgeable student.

you turn your head. jade leech smiles politely at you from the long shadow of a tree, his usual suspicious demeanor offset by a knitted yellow cap and several layers of hiking gear. his lantern casts a soft glow across his face. you wonder why he has it out at all. the sun has only just begun to set, after all.

you must be staring too much, because jade steps out of the shadow and crouches down next to you, setting the lamp on the ground. “it’s good to have one in case of any delays. the mountains can be rather perilous, as you must be aware by now,” he explains. “one reckless act, and nature’s bounty can prove fatal,”—he taps your jar—“such as these.”

you blink at him slowly. his yellow eye almost glows in the dying light of day, but they are not predatory. not today.

“right. thank you for the notice.” you screw the lid back on, put it into your basket, and push yourself from the ground. he begins to do the same. “i’ll be leaving now. i don’t want to inconvenience you any further.” yes, he did just get here. no, you will not be acknowledging that.

“not at all. on the contrary, it is lovely to see you, prefect, especially on such a pleasant day. ah, but that reminds me,”—oh, sevens. please don’t say what i think you’re going to say—“seeing as we’re both here, perhaps you wouldn’t mind a bit of a hike to the peak? the sunset is beautiful this time of year.”

you swear. internally, of course, but the idea is the same.

you really hoped to avoid octavinelle after azul’s incident. it was one thing to be riddle or leona; they hadn’t targeted you personally. moreover, riddle has relaxed on some of his rules, and leona doesn’t bother you any more than he talks to you (which is very rarely). you got over it.

octavinelle, though, had contracted your friends into forced labor (it was mostly their own fault), stolen your house (you willingly agreed to hand it over), and sabotaged you in getting it back (in a deal you knew was sketchy). it was, it was—!

oh, who are you kidding? you feel hurt. that’s the long and short of it. it is juvenile and illogical and out of character for you and you hate it, but there is no time to unpack that, and the consequences for purposeful ignorance are little to none. jade leech couldn’t possibly have cared anyways.

“-efect? prefect?” he taps you gently. “are you alright?”

but you must have forgotten how entertaining the students find you.

you step back, hands gripping the strap of your bag. “i don’t think that’s a good idea. if i went with you, the sun would be gone by the time we got there. we’ll be better off going our separate ways.”

“i beg to differ.” his eyes glance at your bag. several jars clink emptily. “you’re foraging, yes? there happens to be a berry hedge on the trail down. i could lead you there, if you so wish.”

“that’s okay. it’ll be dark.”

“then i could accompany you on the way down,” he offers, “if the dark is what worries you.”

“i’ve faced worse—and i really should be getting back to ramshackle soon. grim will be hungry.” not to mention the three other teenage boys who might be ransacking the place.

“even so, you can never be too careful.”

you cut the pleasantries. “and what would you get out of it?”

“pardon?”

“what are you getting in return?” your eyes bore into his. “i don’t have anything to give you, but frankly, i’m not interested in any kind of exchange if that’s what you have in mind. you won’t get anything from me.”

jade leech blinks at you twice in rapid succession, eyebrows raised, before his features school themselves into something neutral. concealed, even. you’re almost comforted by the sight of normal jade.

key word: almost.

“is that what you think of me?”

“how else am i supposed to think?” your eyebrows furrow. “i could never tell with you before, but i knew you weren’t malicious at the very least. i don’t have a clue where we stand now.” excuses. truths. you hold your basket closer. “does it matter, anyways? i don’t have any business with you.”

the sun is lower on the horizon now. the lamplight flickers.

jade leech sighs—sighs!—so inaudible you might’ve thought it was the wind. his eyes fall shut for a moment. when they open again, his left one shines gold. “you’re still nursing injuries, are you not? as vice housewarden of octavinelle, it would be remiss of me to ignore someone personally hurt by the actions of our dorm. i’ll ensure your safety against anything on the way down.” his gaze meets yours. “an eye for an eye, yes?”

you scrunch your face. “i don’t want your eye. i don’t want anyone’s eyes.”

jade blinks at you—(wow, that makes it, what, three times now?)—before unexpectedly giving into chuckles. it’s breathy, and true, and a whole host of other adjectives you wouldn’t normally assign him. that must be the floyd in him, you think as you stand there awkwardly. you wonder if you should just leave.

jade gets a hold of himself soon enough though, and he ushers you down the mountain under the guise of benevolence and whatever else he tries to sell to you on the way. you ignore it the best you can.

what you don’t see is the lingering grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, the entire trip down.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #i struggled for five minutes on what to title this and then i made it a pun #impasse like pass like mountain pass are you seeing the vision #i don't actually know how to write jade leech like he's formal and mildly unsettling with how polite he is #but also weirdly playful? (well the leech version of it anyway)#my impression is that everything he does is for a bit and personal enjoyment #which makes sense considering him and floyd are. well. related #there's also definitely a distinction in his speech patterns from someone like azul but i can't pin it. maybe theatrics #anyways all this to say i don't actually know if he's capable of being sincere without some level of evasion and redirection #so i have no idea if this portrayal is ooc or not #considering how many interpretations i've seen it has to be at least someone's canon #if anyone has thoughts feel free to share

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lucygraysboy · 11 hours ago

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“mhm, just watch him,” billy sighs, rolling his eyes because he’s unsure whether she’s pretending not to notice pat’s pathetic attempts at flirting or is genuinely oblivious. what if it’s the former? what if she’s just playing? he shouldn’t be thinking like this and getting upset over something that’s possibly only real in his head but can’t really help it. “oh, i’m not telling you who. you figure it out, world’s greatest detective,” he muses with a hint of playfulness, enjoying the teasing. being the mysterious one can be fun. he now sees why she does it. “and don’t worry. i won’t let you end up on a one on one date with him.” with olinger? olinger knows better. unless he needs his face rearranged by billy’s fists. but pat… that one’s a snake. “do i need permission now to make sure you won’t fall off the steps? rude,” he sighs, not a single regret written across his face. he’d do it again. he doubts she’s truly upset about being picked up, she’s upset because for once he knows something and she doesn’t. “billy boy, i gotta say it. you look a bit like a fag, you know that, right? that fuckin’ city changed ya.” beckwith bumps his shoulder and billy just rolls his eyes, bumping him right back with a bit more force than necessary.

pat briefly glances at billy, but billy’s lost in a conversation with jesse, and his shoulders relax. “there you go,” he happily hands her the peanut butter cup, laughing softly upon hearing her answer. “you can be honest with me. it stinks. and it’s hotter than hell in there. and the nights are the worst. they all snore and fart, and it stinks even worse because they’re drunk out of their minds. if you brought airpods, put them in as soon as you lie down. i made the mistake of leaving mine at home so now i just roll around and think about sleeping outside every few minutes.” now that he’s wearing black swim shorts, his badge is hanging from his neck, and he’s clearly put some more cologne on both sides of his neck. “you know, i have to admit, i’m surprised billy’s brought you here. must be uncomfortable, being the only girl among men like this bunch. olinger’s criminal record is impressive. i wouldn’t want my girl around them, but that’s me.”

“i think you could run it pretty decently, darlin’. but now as great without me.”

she jokes back before the tiny brunette blinks, eyes going a little more alert, “TWO? what do you mean two got a crush on me.” brows perk, then she turns to look towards the door in confusion. that was something she wasn’t aware about. “well he didn’t have to steal something as HUGE as a boat and he didn’t have to bring his dirt eatin’ friends.” the scowl returns, angry whispering coming from her, eyes rolling because who cares if he’s trying— he’s still a jerk. and a jerk for calling her LUCY. she didn’t forget. eyes following him putting the hat on backwards, wishing he didn’t look so attractive wearing it. “oh is it? wish we had time and privacy to look.” she leaves him with that after grabbing her phone and mini yellow purse backpack with sun lotion and a few other amenities inside it. throwing her backpack on, slipping her pink flip flops on and leading the way out. “mind your business.” already speaking before jesse can say a word.

#verse: modern.#billysgirllol #mobile.

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dontpulloutman · 15 hours ago

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7 minutes of lewis & yn talking about each other

singer!yn x lewis pullman a/n: i have maybe 2 more singer!yn wips + 1 owen taylor wip. i'm super busy this week so i'm not sure when i can post those uhhh pls be patient w me ty ily i hope u like this

The video begins with the oldest; it’s Lew seated in an interview with Jay and Monica to promote Top Gun: Maverick. “So, it’s safe to assume that all the flight training and exercise needed to stay in shape must take many hours. Who are your favorite artists to jam out and work out to?”

Lewis can’t hide the way his lips quirk, “Recently, I’ve been listening to a lot of Y/N.”

From the corner of his eye, he can see the way Monica and Jay look at him. Knowing glints in their gazes.

“Really?” the interview asks, “I didn’t expect that.”

“No, yeah. She’s great.” Lewis smiles.

“She’s really great,” Jay adds. Monica tries to subtly hide her smile behind her hand.

“I jam out to Bad Blood on the treadmill.” Lewis comments, cheeky smile plastered on his face before Monica changes the topic.

“Muses & Anecdotes, congratulations on the new album!” The radio talkshow host exclaims. Seated across from him, you smile. “Thank you so much!”

“It’s doing really well. All thirteen tracks on Billboard’s Top 20. How does it feel?”

“It feels amazing. I had some doubts about releasing an album entirely on my own again, but I was encouraged by some very close friends and I decided, ‘Hey, why not?’. Luckily, it’s working out so far.”

“It’s more than just ‘working out.” The host teases, and you let out a little laugh. “So, speaking of ‘muses & anecdotes’, can we perhaps have an explanation to what ‘muses’ and what ‘anecdotes’ mean? Not the Merriam-Webster definition, but the YN LN definition.”

You let out another laugh. Letting out a hum, you think of how to phrase your answer.

“When I first started to conceptualize the album, I knew that it would encompass thoughts and feelings of certain events over the course of six years. Anecdotes quite literally means an account of an event that is… amusing or interesting.”

“And what does ‘muses’ mean to YN LN?”

The host eyes you, you catch the humor on their face.

“You know what it means, Rich.”

“I don’t! Promise!” the host is laughing.

“All of the songs in this album are inspired by and dedicated to a special person in my life.”

“That person being…?”

“Oh, stop it," you joke with a roll of your eyes.

The next clip is of a red-carpet interview for the premiere of Thunderbolts. Front and center of the video, Lewis is talking into a mic, he’s grinning at the question the interviewer asked him.

“My muse is here,” he’s grinning, head turning quickly to the side, down the aisle where you’re engaged in another interview of your own.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” the interviewer starts, “But is this your first red carpet together?”

“Yes, it is,” Lewis confirms, “This is… Coming to an event like this has been something we’ve always wanted to do together, but it never really worked out in the past. I’m just happy we’ve finally done it.”

“How do you think YN will react to The Sentry?”

“Oh, I think she’ll hate him. I sent her pics during filming. She absolutely hated the hair. She’s in love with the Void, though.” Lew lets out a small laugh, mind recalling the texts you sent him when the trailer released.

“That was unexpected!”

Lewis gives a wink to the camera, “She loves his hair more.”

“I’m so excited. I’m such a huge fan of everybody, and Flo is one of my closest friends in Hollywood. I just — I can’t wait to see the whole film!” The next clip is YN on the same red carpet, with the same interviewer.

“And of course, you’re here for Lewis too?”

“Yes, of course,” you cut yourself off, turning your head to look for him, “Where is he? — Oh, there.” You see him ahead of you in the press line, talking to another interviewer. “I told him the reason I came today is to see the Void. I love his hair.”

“Lewis told us awhile ago. Not a fan of the blonde?”

“I am! Just… I love the Void more.”

The next clip is a little blurry, taken under the dim lights of your most recent concert. The camera is focused on the stage, where you’re dancing to ‘Dress’.

I woke up just in time, now I wake up by your side

My hands shake, I can't explain this ah, ha, ha, ha

Say my name and everything just stops

The camera turns to where Lewis is watching you from the VIP tent, it zooms in on his face, his smile, and how he whispers your name, before the beat starts up again.

I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off

“I feel so lucky to know her.”

The final clip is from a Zoom interview, Lewis is leaned toward the camera of his laptop, a lazy smile on his lips, “She’s my best friend, my biggest supporter.” This whole press junket, ever since the two of you went public with your relationship, questions about your relationship never fails to be brought up at least once. He never gets tired of talking about you.

Comments (274)

ally_browne PARENTS

falsedg0dz yn cant stop yapping abt lewis she released bonus tracks of muses n anecdotes OUT OF FUCKIN NOWHERE???

lewpulledman this is the first celeb couple where i feel like they really like each other

bobonboard girlie cant stop singing abt how in love and horny they r for one another

l0vedstory hard launching at 6 years …. we couldve had 6 yrs of them doing this

ynlewtruther I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT YN’S ROLLING STONE INTERVIEW

millsjules wait why? ynlewtruther she wrote some songs at lewis’s montana place and she said in the interview that she realized he liked her back when she walked in on him playing “snap out of it” by arctic monkeys on the drums dfhgjkdfhg milesjules WHAT???? thats hilarious

voidedyn yn … lewis …. me …. sabrina carpenter paris juno position

#lewis pullman #lewis pullman x reader #lewis pullman social media au #bob reynolds #bob reynolds x reader #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #thunderbolts #top gun maverick #outer range

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jinjoohaa · 2 days ago

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Room for One more ?

Pairing - JJK Men x reader

next chapter

Chapter 1

The apartment smelled like something warm—cinnamon maybe, or toasted sugar. It didn’t match the sight in front of you: a door propped open with a sneaker, a white sock hanging off the doorknob, and voices filtering through the narrow hallway.

You hesitated at the threshold with your duffel bag slung over your shoulder, trying not to fidget with the hem of your oversized sweatshirt. Your friend, Aki, swore this was a good idea.

“They’re chill,” she’d said. “Little weird, but harmless.”

You were starting to think “little” had been a generous understatement.

A head peeked around the corner. Messy white hair. Sunglasses indoors.

“Hey. You must be the new stray.”

Your mouth opened, then closed again.

“Um… I’m Y/N.”

He grinned—wide, all teeth. “Cute. I’m Gojo. I call dibs on teaching you how to use the shower if you don’t know how.”

“…I do know how.”

He winked. “That’s what they all say.”

Behind him, another man walked into view, holding a mug and wearing a loose black tee that hung off one shoulder. His hair was dark, tied up lazily, and his gaze was unreadable as he sipped.

“Don’t harass her at the door, Satoru.”

“Harass? I was welcoming her,” Gojo gasped, offended.

“Sure,” he said. Then, to you: “I’m Geto. Ignore him. Mostly.”

Geto looked calmer, quieter, but you already felt how his eyes lingered too long—just a second more than appropriate. You swallowed and nodded politely.

Gojo turned back to you, gesturing wildly.

“Rules are simple. No bringing partners over, no stealing my snacks, and everyone’s required to attend Friday Movie Night. Also, if you’re gonna scream in your sleep, do it in your pillow. Sound carries.”

“Scream—?” you blinked.

He beamed again. “You’ll understand eventually.”

They showed you to the empty room. Technically Toji’s old room, but he’d moved everything out two days before to Nanami's as for welcoming you. It was small, but it had a bed, desk, and bathroom of your own. More than you expected, honestly.

You didn’t meet Nanami until that night.

He knocked on your door at 9:12 sharp.

“I wanted to introduce myself properly,” he said, standing stiffly at the doorway like he was afraid of invading your space.

“I’m Nanami. If any of them bother you, let me know. I’ll handle it.”

You nodded, voice small. “Thank you.”

His eyes flicked over you quickly, then away, as if embarrassed he’d even looked. “And welcome. Please don’t feel uncomfortable. You’re safe here.”

There was something… reassuring about him. Stoic, maybe, but polite. You felt your shoulders relax.

Until the next day.

You woke up to the sound of low voices, distant music, and the thud of something heavy—weights? A punching bag?

You padded out of your room and followed the sounds to the shared kitchen, only to stop short when you caught sight of the last one.

He had a towel slung over his shoulders, sweat gleaming across his chest. Tattoos peeked from the waistband of his shorts and his broad back flexed as he cracked open a water bottle.

His gaze flicked to yours. Unblinking. Cold green eyes. The stare of a man who didn’t say “hello,” just sized you up.

Toji.

“You’re the new girl,” he said. Voice rough, like gravel. “Didn’t expect you to look like that.”

You frowned. “Like what?”

“Soft. Lost.” He let his eyes drag over your body—bare legs, oversized shirt, sleep-flattened hair. “Easy.”

You stepped back, flustered. “I—excuse me?”

He shrugged, then grinned—sharp, quick.

“Don’t get all squeaky on me. I say what I think.”

You turned and nearly ran into Nanami, who appeared out of nowhere like a silent guardian. He placed a mug in front of you.

“Don’t take anything Toji says seriously,” he said, almost gently.

“And please wear slippers. The floor isn’t always clean.”

Toji snorted. “Keep babying her, Nanami. Let’s see how long that works.”

“Don’t call her that.”

You felt like you had walked into a play already halfway through—like everyone already had roles, histories, fights, flirtations. And now you were here, the only one out of place.

But they welcomed you.

They let you eat breakfast with them.

And when Geto leaned over to pass you a spoon—his arm brushing yours, his voice low as he said, “you really are cute when you flinch,”—something in you jolted awake.

This was not what you expected.

Not even close.

You hadn’t even finished your cereal when Toji spoke again.

“So,” he drawled, slumping lazily into a chair across the kitchen table, “you’re in my old room.”

You paused mid-bite. “…Sorry?”

“Don’t be,” he smirked, cracking open a second water bottle.

“Didn’t say I minded. Was just curious how it feels sleeping in a room that still probably smells like me.”

Your face heated instantly. “I—uh—what—?”

Nanami set his coffee down with a sharp clink. “Toji.”

“What? I’m just being friendly.”

You could barely look at either of them, the spoon trembling slightly in your grip. Toji leaned forward on his elbows, jaw flexing, muscles rolling under the ink on his forearm as he continued, voice slow and intentional.

“Should’ve asked me before giving up the room, though. Could’ve made a deal, sweetheart. Maybe shared it with you instead of Nanami.”

Your breath caught.

Nanami stood up straight. “Toji. Enough.”

Toji tilted his head, annoyed. “Relax. She’s not a kid.”

“She’s nineteen.”

“She’s legal.”

"Barely."

"Still legal."

“Toji.”

You could hear the edge in Nanami’s voice—firm, low, a thread of warning barely held back. Toji scoffed and sat back in his chair, tapping the bottle cap against the table.

“Whatever,” he muttered. “Was joking.”

“Don’t joke like that.”

Toji rolled his eyes. “You know, this is why I didn’t want to share a room with you. You kill the vibe.”

“You didn’t have a choice,” Nanami shot back, calm but cold.

Toji smirked again, looking at you. “Still think I should’ve shared a room with her.”

Your spoon hit the bowl with a soft clatter as you stood, too flustered to stay seated.

Nanami’s voice softened only slightly as he turned to you. “Ignore him. He’s like this with everyone.”

“I’m not,” Toji said, without missing a beat.

“Just with the ones I like.”

You practically ran to rinse your bowl and retreat to your room, mumbling something about needing to finish unpacking. Nanami’s eyes followed you until you disappeared, then turned sharply to Toji.

“She’s uncomfortable.”

“She’ll get used to it.”

“She shouldn’t have to.”

“Spare me the lecture.”

Before Nanami could retort, the front door burst open with a dramatic thud, followed by an enthusiastic, drawn-out, “We’re hooome!”

Gojo’s voice, unmistakable.

He strolled in like a celebrity on a red carpet, sunglasses still on despite the dim lighting of the apartment hallway, arms loaded with takeout bags and a six-pack of beer. Geto followed behind, phone in one hand, hair tied up tighter now, holding the speaker end of the Bluetooth playing obnoxiously loud house music.

“Don’t worry, I brought enough food to bribe your forgiveness,” Gojo said, dropping the bags onto the kitchen counter. “And beer to blur your memories.”

Toji was already halfway through his first can before they even settled. Geto gave a soft chuckle when he saw him.

“Didn’t even wait for us?”

Toji shrugged. “Why would I?”

Nanami sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You said you were picking up groceries, not takeout and alcohol.”

Gojo waved a hand. “Tomato, tomahto. Let loose, Kento. It’s Friday.”

“I’m going to my room,” Nanami said flatly, already walking away.

“Again?” Gojo called.

“Come on, don’t be lame. You’re gonna make her think this house is boring.”

Nanami stopped at his door and turned to you—eyes softening slightly.

“If you want peace,” he said, “I’d suggest you do the same.”

You nodded quickly. “Y-Yeah. I’ll—”

But you didn’t even finish the sentence before Gojo zipped past Nanami with a devilish grin and took a sharp turn toward your room. You blinked, confused, until—

“Wait—! What are you—?!”

Too late.

Gojo was back in the living room with you in his arms, bridal style, grinning like a maniac while you squeaked and clung to him.

“She said she was gonna hide,” he said to Geto, who leaned lazily against the wall, enjoying the show. “Can you believe that?”

“I can,” Geto said. “But I support your kidnapping. It’s fun.”

“Put me down!” you yelped.

“Nope. House rule number five—‘All Friday nights must be celebrated with excessive noise and minor abductions.’ Look it up.”

“There is no such rule!”

“There is now.”

He dumped you unceremoniously onto the couch, and you bounced with a soft “oof” as Geto plopped beside you and handed you a can of soda. He opened one for himself—beer, obviously—and stretched one arm across the back of the couch behind you.

“You’ll get used to it,” he said, voice low, mouth too close to your ear.

“This place isn’t so bad once you lower your standards.”

Toji dropped down into the armchair next to the couch, now on his second beer. His eyes dragged across your legs, your face, the curve of your back as you tried to sit properly—anything but notice the way his gaze lingered.

“Don’t act so scared,” he muttered. “No one here bites.”

Then a pause.

“…Unless you ask nicely.”

You swore you heard Geto chuckle behind you. Gojo walked past, ruffling your hair playfully, before collapsing onto the rug in front of the TV and pointing the remote like a weapon.

“Now,” he declared. “Movie night begins. But first—shots?”

“Absolutely not,” Nanami’s voice called from the hallway.

Gojo grinned. “See? He’s always listening.”

And you, sitting on the couch between Geto’s lazy smile and Toji’s dark stare, started to realize something.

You weren’t going to live in this house.

You were going to survive in it.

You’d tried to stay quiet—really. Sitting tucked on the couch, legs pressed together, soda can hugged to your chest while the boys sprawled around like they owned the entire apartment complex, not just the living room.

But that never worked for long in this place.

Especially not with them.

“Look how tense she is,” Gojo grinned, poking at your shoulder as he lay on the rug, head tilted back to peek at you upside down. “C’mon, sweetheart, you’ll get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that.”

“She’s probably just overwhelmed,” Geto added smoothly, resting his chin in his palm as he leaned on the couch’s armrest.

“New house, new people. Four grown men. Living with us must feel like walking into a lion’s den.”

Gojo pouted. “Hey! I’m a kitten.”

Toji scoffed. “A loud one with rabies.”

Nanami’s voice floated from his room. “All of you have rabies.”

Laughter echoed around you, but your face was already heating.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled. “Just tired.”

“Sure you are,” Toji muttered, sipping his beer and eyeing you from the chair across the room. His legs were spread wide, arms resting loose on the sides, posture lazy—but his eyes were sharp, tracking every twitch you made. “You always this jumpy around guys?”

“Wha—no, I—”

“Uh-huh.”

You turned away quickly, but that only made things worse.

Geto leaned closer, his arm brushing yours. “You’ve never lived with boys before, huh?”

You shook your head, hoping they’d drop it.

They didn’t.

“Never even had a boyfriend?” Gojo teased, propping his chin on his fists, grinning wide. “You’re giving… pure vibes.”

“That's—,” you hissed, your ears turning hot.

“Ohhh, no way—” he gasped.

“Are you—wait, wait—are you seriously untouched? Like, untouched-untouched?”

You choked on your drink.

“God,” Toji muttered, dragging a hand down his face and grinning like he knew something dirty. “You guys are vultures.”

“But she’s so cute when she’s flustered!” Geto said, laughing now. “Look at that—she’s about to melt.”

You were.

Your face was burning, your heart pounding too fast, and the room suddenly felt stifling.

“I’m just gonna get some air,” you mumbled, slipping off the couch and weaving past the mess of limbs and bottles and pillows scattered across the floor.

“Need help breathing, princess?” Toji called after you.

You didn’t answer.

The balcony was small but quiet. The city lights glittered in the distance, noise a soft hum beneath the apartment’s height. You inhaled deeply, trying to shake off the tension—but the air wasn’t clean.

It was thick with smoke.

You turned and froze.

Toji was already out there, leaning against the railing with a cigarette between his fingers. He glanced sideways at you, one brow arching.

“Well, well.”

You blinked. “I—I didn’t know you were here—”

“Door’s open. I’m always here.”

Your stomach fluttered.

He took a long drag and exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl through the air before flicking the ash over the edge. You hovered near the doorway, hesitant to step fully into his space.

“You coming in, or just planning to stand there breathing my secondhand smoke?”

You swallowed. “I—I can come back later—”

But before you could even step back, he moved—reaching past you, gripping the balcony door, and swinging it shut behind you with a soft click.

Your heart jumped.

He didn’t touch you—but he didn’t have to. The proximity alone made your nerves spark.

“…What are you doing?” you asked, voice quieter now.

Toji turned to face you, only a foot or two away now, flicking the cigarette to the ground and grinding it out with his boot.

“Nothing. Just thinking.” He paused, then grinned. “You make it a habit to run when guys talk to you?”

“I—I wasn’t running.”

He gave you a look.

“…Okay, maybe a little,” you muttered.

He chuckled—low and rough. “Thought so.”

Silence stretched for a second, uncomfortable.

Then, softly: “So what’s your deal?”

You blinked. “My…?”

“Yeah. What’s your story, sweetheart?” He stepped closer, arms crossing over his chest.

“You some rich daddy’s girl cut off for bad grades? Or did you just lose a bet and wind up here with four assholes?”

You fumbled, laughing awkwardly. “N-No, nothing like that. I—I just… needed a cheaper place. Couldn’t afford dorm rent anymore. A friend of Gojo’s mentioned the room.”

“Friend of Gojo’s,” he echoed, smirking. “That explains a lot.”

You fidgeted under his stare.

“What are you studying?” he asked next, voice quieter.

“Economics.”

“Big dreams?”

“Sort of. I—I mean, I want something… stable.”

He gave a noncommittal grunt. “You’ll hate it.”

“I—huh?”

“Trust me. People who want stability are always the ones who end up miserable.” He tilted his head.

“How old did you say you were?”

“N-Nineteen.”

He smiled again. Not kindly.

“Barely legal.”

You flinched. “I—um—can I go to sleep now?”

Toji stepped in again, this time close enough that you could smell the mix of smoke and aftershave clinging to him.

“What’s the rush?” he said, voice low, teasing.

“Talk to me a little more. I’m curious about our new roommate. You’re a shy little thing—but I bet there’s more under the surface.”

“There’s—nothing, I—I swear—”

“You always this bad at lying?” he grinned. “Cute.”

You felt heat crawl down your spine.

Then—

“Yo! Where’d you go, princess?”

Gojo’s voice. Loud. Coming closer.

“Damn,” Toji muttered under his breath.

Before you could even turn, the balcony door swung open again, and Gojo poked his head out, eyes lighting up when he saw you cornered.

“Aha! I knew he was hogging you.”

“I wasn’t—” you started, but Gojo didn’t wait. He swooped in and tossed you over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

“Wha—HEY—!”

“Sorry, Toji,” Gojo chirped, grinning. “I'm taking her. Find your own cuddle buddy.”

Toji’s jaw flexed, brow twitching.

“Put her down, idiot.”

“Later,” Gojo called as he carried you back inside, music still blaring, Geto laughing from the couch.

He plopped you down again, passed you a fresh can.

“Cheers,” he said, grinning into your eyes.

“To surviving your first night in hell.”

You lifted the drink, heartbeat still racing, and took a sip.

But even as you sat between the chaos, you felt a burning gaze linger behind you—from the balcony where Toji still stood, jaw clenched around another cigarette.

Watching.

Waiting.

to be continued in the next chapter

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trashytracktales · 18 hours ago

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i know we've talked about lando's freaky things a lot, but i want a T's Freaky Lando Agenda too! maybe you have new updates about it 😋

I love how dramatic y’all get the second it takes me a bit longer to come up with these (I know I am slow though, forgive meee), but it’s honestly so endearing to see. I hope this one lives up to expectations, because after all the waiting, you freaks deserve it 💋

With the mention that I might repeat myself here and there, I finally present you:

𝗧’𝘀 𝗙𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘆 𝗟𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼 𝗔𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗮

𝗜𝗻 𝗯𝗲𝗱

✦ Lando’s very versatile, cocky, and driven by validation. He gets off on your reactions, praise, begging, and moans.

✦ Mouthy; he talks you through it a lot, whether it’s praise, filth, and especially teasing. As expected, he doesn’t stop at words. He kisses like he needs it to breathe, and he eats like he means it. Because your pleasure is something he devours, literally and verbally.

✦ A pleaser, sure, but also a menace. He’ll edge you on purpose, pulling away right as you’re about to finish. If he lets you gather your senses, it’s because he wants to do it all over again.

✦ Those damn hands. Everywhere. The man can’t and won’t stay still. He’s like a hyperactive kid on a sugar rush (must be the Kinder), and needs to touch, grip, and hold like it’s second nature.

✦ Eye contact ends him in the best way possible, but he’s even worse about your expressions. Will even pause mid-thrust just to tell you that “There it is. That’s the one.”

✦ He likes it messy. Saliva, sweat, the slick sounds of skin. Finishing on your chest or stomach is a must. If it’s your back, he’ll trace it with his finger after, because he has no shame when it comes to claiming.

𝗧𝘂𝗿𝗻-𝗼𝗻𝘀

✦ As mentioned, the good ol’ eye contact. The wheels inside his head never stop spinning, and if you hold it for long enough, he’ll know. Loves it especially when you look UP at him (preferably from your knees).

✦ Moaning (his name). Say it sweet, say it sobbing, but most importantly, say it repeatedly when you’re clenching around him; he will rampage. Bonus points if you’re loud.

✦ Messy kisses.

✦ Neck kisses; while he’s a pro at devouring, he’s as obsessed when you kiss or suck on his neck while riding him.

✦ Since we’re on riding, power dynamics shift. Take control and TRY TO pin him down. Drives him insane if he doesn’t see it coming.

✦ Slight bratty behavior, because he lives for the challenge.

✦ Physical contrast; being shorter/smaller awakens something inside him. His hand is double the size and loves watching how his fingers slide in and stretch you out, because he knows exactly how to use them. One hand can cover nearly all of your lower back, and his palm wraps around your throat with ease. All these make him feel more in control (and he’ll absolutely tease you about it).

✦ Wearing his clothes, but in particular you in his hoodie (and nothing else). Walk into the room like that and he’s already pulling the hoodie up from behind to see your ass jiggle. This man has no peace in his soul. Also, sundresses, tennis skirts, crop tops and anything that ride up. You wore that knowing I’d see you, yeah? 🙏🏻🧎🏼‍♀️

✦ When you’re enjoying yourself (and he’s the reason why). Drives him insane when he realizes how close you are. Like, hand over your mouth, shit, that’s it, don’t stop now insane.

✦ Any accidental touches. I love this in particular, because it’s so innocent. Until it isn’t. Hand on his thigh, brushing fingers during gaming, laying on his chest and your lips graze his neck etc. He might act cool, but he gets hard so quickly, it’s embarrassing.

✦ Playful arguing, because it gives him a reason to put you in your place.

𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀

✦ Let’s pretend y’all didn’t see this coming: praise kink. Because your approval is a drug. Call him a good boy and he’ll do anything to prove you right.

✦ Size kink but both ways (ik, shocking). You straddling him and calling him too deep while he insists you can take it.

✦ Jealousy kink (he’s a bit toxic, I ain’t gonna lie). Hates when someone else flirts with you, but finds ways to use that as ammo. He’ll give you that look, then make you sit on his face like it’s a punishment. To remind you exactly whose you are.

✦ That being said, face riding. His favorite meal, actually. He’ll grab your thighs and pull you down with no hesitation, eating you out like it’s his last time.

✦ Overstimulation. You beg him to stop and he coos, Just one more, baby. I promise. Be good for me.

✦ Recording you. Do I need to elaborate?

✦ Mirror sex, because he loves to watch and loves watching you watch.

𝗙𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀

✦ Cowgirl & reverse cowgirl, because he’s the biggest fan of watching you take what you need from him. This comes with a warning though: he’ll let you take the lead unless you start teasing too much.

✦ Doggy when he’s feeling rough. One hand pressing your back down, the other fisting your hair or rubbing your clit.

✦ Against the wall, while keeping eye contact. This is unplanned sex, therefore his patience is nonexistent.

✦ Missionary but make it nasty. Legs over his shoulders, face buried in your neck etc.

✦ Side position. His dirty talk is extra sweet in this one, aw.

𝗘𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗮 𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗰𝗲

(things people usually overlook)

✦ Loves when you tug his curls, especially when he’s eating you out. Grind on his face and moan his name while at it.

✦ He’s very vocal.

✦ Fan of mutual stripping.

𝗔𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲

✦ Cleans after himself, no debate.

✦ Big spoon mode, while he kisses your shoulders and whispers how good you were. Tangles you up in his limbs, one arm under your neck, one leg thrown over your thigh. Just so you know, you’re not going anywhere, and he makes sure you feel wrapped up and safe ♥︎

✦ Falls asleep so quickly.

✦ Check-ins the morning after.

#pit stop asks #ask box #trashy track tales #freaky agendas #freaky lando #f1blr #lando norris #ln4 #lnfour #lando #lando norris x you #ln4 x you #lando norris x y/n #ln4 x y/n

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frogbogus · 2 days ago

Text

‎‧₊˚✧ [ LOVE AND DEEPSPACE SYLUS ] ✧˚₊‧

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You’re injured during a car shoot out and try your best to hide it from Sylus.

[ Based only on the Death and Rebirth main story TRAILER ]

cw: injury, blood, guns, violence. / note: this is main story sylus not memory cards sylus.

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Your mind races as you hoist your knee onto Sylus’ shoulder for leverage, aiming your gun out of the open sunroof to the speeding cars chasing after you.

Sylus manages to weave and dodge away from the incoming bullets as you unleash your pistol’s magazine onto them. You’re just about to take cover once more, but you feel it then. A sharp chill through your right bicep. The adrenaline is still pumping through you as you sit back into the passenger seat, the pain has yet to register.

‘’Having a break already, sweetie?’’ Sylus says in a teasing, but light tone. All of this was nothing to him. Just a casual Wednesday.

You don’t have the energy to make a smart remark back, ‘’There’s one car left. They’re not giving up.’’ You say with a pained exhale as you come to realise you have indeed been shot, the bullet wound starting feel like an excruciating burn. You keep your face blank as you look over to Sylus to see a slight smirk adorning his face. He already has a plan.

In an instant, the air shimmers with a dark energy. Red and black flakes floating through the air from where he was sat just seconds ago. In a panic you reach over to the steering wheel just to see crackles of energy pulsating around it. He’s still in full control of the steering wheel, but where is he?

You take a glance through the back mirror to see him atop of the enemies car, walking steadily, like a predator stalking its prey. He kneels down, aiming onto the roof of the car and before you could even blink it explodes, launching off the ground and tumbling midair. You watch in awe, unaware to Sylus now already sitting back in the drivers seat, smirking to himself at his actions.

‘’Good job.’’ Is the first words that come out of your mouth, the lack of blood making you feel delirious. Sylus’ eyebrows raise, amused as he looks over to you. A compliment … from you? He must be dreaming. ‘’Good… job?’’ He repeats back, amused.

You ignore him, ‘’Where are we going?’’ He’s still looking at you, his eyes full of curiosity. ‘’To my safe house. We must lay low for now to make sure they will not return.’’

‘’Are we nearly there?’’ You interject him immediately, your voice but a mere whisper.

His finger taps against his steering wheel, ‘’Are we in a rush Miss Hunter? I thought we could embark on this joy ride for a bit longer.’’ Before you could reply he presses his foot to the pedal.

Eventually you arrive and Sylus pulls up right in-front of the safe house, you’re not sure how but you muster up enough energy to get out the car yourself with Sylus following suit. You don’t know how long you can keep this up for, sooner or later you will pass out. You know that. So why are you hiding this from him? You don’t want to be weak in-front of him? Why do you care so much?

‘’You’re bleeding.’’ He states, appearing behind you, his hands already enveloping your waist to steady you. He doesn’t wait for you to reply, he scoops you up cradling you as he enters the safe-house with urgency.

He lays you on the bed, equipping his pocket knife and slicing through your bloody stained sleeve to gain access to the wound. You look up at him with hazy eyes, you see it then. The concern. Concern for you. The worry. And something else… you can’t quite make out.

A crooked smile tugged at your lips, ‘’Is it bad… Sy?’’ You say almost trying to make a joke of it, but your voice is slurring, coming out as more of a mumble.

‘’You’re still trying to act tough in a situation like this, huh?’’ His eyes soften as he looks at you, but his voice wavered slightly as he spoke. You don’t know when or how, but he already has tools and saline beside him ready to use.

‘’This is going to hurt.’’ He says, as he looks you over again with a furrow in his brows, his eyes glowing the deepest shade of red you’ve ever seen. He drains the wound with a saline solution, and ever so carefully begins to extract the bullet with forceps.

Your whole body tenses, your fists are clenched by your sides, you’re sure your nails might draw blood from your own palms. You can’t hold back the scream that’s festering inside you, so you let it out as the forceps finally clamp around the bullet.

‘’I know. I know, kitten. It’s nearly over. I promise. You’re doing so well, so well for me.’’ He says gently, trying his best to soothe you. He’s terrified, he can’t have you taken away from him like this. Not when he’s found you again. This isn’t fair.

Every inhale you take feels like glass in your lungs. Your eyes squeeze shut, you feel yourself starting to fade. ‘’Fuck. Do it. Fucking do it Sylus!’’ You rage out. His jaw clenches, his hand trembling slightly as he listens to your pleas. He finally extracts the bullet and instantly applies pressure to the wound trying his best to stop the blood loss.

He’s leaning over you in an instant, his free hand cupping your jaw, stroking your cheek softly with his thumb. ‘’I’m sorry-I’m so sorry.’’ He comes to lean his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he listens to your breaths slowly begin to steady. ‘’I’m here… I’ll always be here.’’ He whispers sweet nothings to you as you lay there, his words are all jumbled in your brain but you feel a sense of serenity at them. Your eyes flutter open to take one last look at him before you allow yourself to succumb to the darkness. He’ll take care of you. You can let go now.

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Hello! I hope you enjoyed this little uhh.. angsty(?) moment. I’m lowkey a sucker for the whole injured/taking care of you trope so… here we go. I’m not sure if this needs a part 2, I’ll let you guys be the deciders of that if you like it. Maybe just a continuation where he’s taking care of you? I’m not sure and I’m definitely not promising anything. Anyway, I hope you all have a lovely day!

#lads sylus #sylus x mc #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace #sylus x reader #sylus x you

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