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girl-lostconnection · 22 hours ago

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Hear me out

Bloodhound Knight Johnny x Witch!Reader.

Johnny who lived his whole life being a good instrument for his master, being a proper weapon in other’s hands.

Johnny whose training strips his words from him, his dignity, his honour. Dogs don’t have honour after all.

Dogs hear “bite” and they bite. Dogs hear “run” and they run.

Dogs return to their owners no matter how cruel the hand feeding them is. Because that’s what dogs do. That’s how it works.

Johnny who gets his knee injured badly and suddenly after years of servitude and being a good weapon he’s useless. He’s broken. No one needs a dog that can’t run. No one needs a dog that can’t hunt for its master.

They drop him off somewhere in the wilderness, not letting him keep even his sword, the weapon that became part of him, the weapon hilt of which is soaked in his blood and sweat and tears.

It’s his bloody sword! It’s his weapon! He earned it! Why can’t he keep it? Why isn’t he allowed to keep at least this much?

Why isn’t he allowed to keep anything?

But he’s dropped off in the woods and he doesn’t even know where the fuck he is. He doesn’t know what to do — shame and humiliation choking him out, pain in his knee agonising whenever he tries to hobble somewhere.

Dogs in the wild either die or become feral. Johnny isn’t sure what is better for him. He doesn’t have anything left in him to fight more.

He doesn’t have a reason to. Nobody tells him to bite or to run or to break himself piece by piece.

He’s feverish from pain and he’s hungry, god he’s so fucking hungry.

He hasn’t been so hungry since he was a wee thing and his mum couldn’t feed them more than once per day.

Family too big in a place that’s too cold and too barren to feed them properly. Family without men other than him.

Johnny closes his eyes, looking up at the sky, lips chapped and dry.

He doesn’t really mind dying. But he doesn’t want to be hungry. God he doesn’t want to die hungry, he let people break him to fit in the dog hide so he doesn’t die hungry.

And at the brink of it all. You find him.

You smell like herbs and something citrus-y, sweet and homey scent. Warm scent. Delicious scent.

Johnny tilts his head, not sure whether it not you are another hallucination of his feverish mind. Maybe you are. Well, at least that’s something.

Small mercies for a useless dog like him.

You say something, brows furrowed and eyes wary but Johnny doesn’t have any more energy to attack. There’s no fight left in him.

But you tug on him for some reason, you make him drink something — sweet and tangy, his empty stomach clenching with renewed hunger.

“Look at the state of you. Come on, knight, it’s no place to die. Come on, you need to get up”, you hiss at him, forcing him up and make him drink a little more of whatever you have in the flask of yours.

It dulls his pain a little, it sobers him up, his jaws clacking together, almost biting the tip of his own tongue.

It’s humiliating. He’s been his master’s best dog, the leanest hound, the favourite fucking weapon and now he’s just a broken toy that reeks of sweat and blood and infection, knee throbbing.

You should just leave him here. You should let him die.

But you don’t.

You force him to walk, hissing back when he clacks his jaws at you — his leg making the hobble a right bloody adventure but you are relentless. Pouring your drink down his throat, pulling him further in the woods.

Johnny thinks he blacked out for a while because the next time he’s out of delirium he’s lying on the bed, fire cracking in the heath.

His armour propped on the chair next to the bed.

You didn’t take it away. Why didn’t you take it away? He doesn’t deserve it. He’s a bad dog, a weak dog, a useless dog.

Can’t you see his knee? Don’t you know that he won’t be a good weapon for you, witch? What’s use to save him if he’s not useful?

But you don’t allow him to wallow in his own misery, spoon feeding him your weird fucking medicine, making him eat and pushing out of the house so he sits on the fallen tree.

“Some fresh air will do you good”, you hum matter-of-factly and he snarls at you, but it’s half-hearted at best. More for the show and you know it so well it’s infuriating.

You thrust watering can in his hands when he’s out of the woods and no longer risking to fall when he stands up too fast. Johnny looks at it, bewildered and looks back at you, earning himself an exasperated sigh and “water plants around yourself, you big oaf. Yeah, these ones near the log you sit on”.

Johnny feels fucking ridiculous sitting on the bloody log and watering plants around himself. Who the fuck is he? A garden gnome?

Johnny who doesn’t know what use he is to you but you come up with tasks for him and even if he finds them ridiculous…he’s not gonna turn his nose away from work.

You feed him, you house him, you patch up his clothing and make a polish for his armour. You save him for some unknown reason so if you say “water the rosemary, oaf” he’s going to water the rosemary.

His knee slowly gets better but the damage unfortunately is irreversible. He doesn’t lose his leg entirely but you quietly announce that he’s not gonna be able to run again.

Johnny nods, swallowing down his anger and bitterness, back of his throat hurting and spasming, bile rising up.

It’s not fair. He was a good dog, he was the best dog. It’s not fair that he won’t run again.

But you still push him to move, lending your shoulder when he awkwardly stumbles and limps, making ointments for his knee, teaching him how to bandage the thing properly.

He lives through the whole summer with you — sleeping in your bed, eating food you grow, watching you silently.

It’s not until first snow he starts speaking again, the first time scaring the living day out of you — his voice a raspy and wrong thing.

He haven’t used it in 20 years.

But he does now. Starts with clipped “yeah” and “nae”, building up to “thank you” and “morning”. He doesn’t talk much but he does talk and that’s already more than before.

More than he was allowed.

You teach him proper sheep shearing and with your combined efforts he gets himself a warm winter cloak. Then a sweater. Then another one.

It’s foreign and the clothes are warm, keeping him from shivering in winds that grow colder when he cleans the pathway to your house from snow.

You keep him warm.

The thought is a sharp thorn that grows in his mind, poking from inside, something long forgotten inside of him watching you with new intensity.

He still sleeps in your bed with you taking a small cot in the kitchen which wasn’t an issue during summer but winters are cold and when he notices the slight shiver that goes through you…

You keep him warm. It’s only fair if he repays the favour.

You wake up warm and fuzzy from sleep, mind hazy, eyes bleary and you aren’t sure why are you so warm, kitchen cools off during the night. Usually you are shivering when you wake up.

Someone’s breathing tickles your ear and you freeze, turning your head — Johnny’s impossibly blue eyes staring right back at you. Watching you with the same intensity hounds do when they lock in on the target.

With the same quiet obsession stray dogs that adore their owners have.

“What are you doing?”, you murmur quietly, voice husky from sleep, eyes squinting at him.

“Nothing”

Johnny isn’t sure what to do with the hot shiver he feels at the sound of your voice, so he just nudges you back under the blanket and to his absolute delight you comply.

Face pressing into his chest, dozing off in a matter of seconds.

Johnny wraps his arms tighter around you, warm and comfortable. You are soft in his hands, his fingers sinking in the softer parts of your body and god, you still smell good.

Herbs and dried citrus. Homey. Delicious.

Johnny guards you while you sleep, starting to move only when you stir awake. You got your rest. Wonderful.

Johnny nuzzles in your neck, lips mouthing at soft skin and he’s not sure what he’s doing or where he needs to go from there. But you make a soft breathy sound when he licks a wet stripe on your skin and he growls in appreciation.

Maybe it would’ve been better if you were like his previous master. Maybe it would’ve been better if you told him to bite or to run.

Maybe it would’ve been better if you chose his new purpose for him.

But you didn’t. So he chooses it himself.

Johnny’s palms slide under the thin fabric of your shirt, his body nudging your legs open so he can settle in between — slowly sliding under the blankets.

Yeah, he chose alright. Maybe his pretty witch doesn’t need a weapon. Or a dog. Or an instrument to use.

But he needs you.

Johnny rumbles out “bonnie” when he looks back up at you, eyes heavy and hungry.

Didn’t you know that hounds sink their teeth into their prey and don’t let go? Should’ve known better.

Now you aren’t getting rid of him.

Continuation

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moonlightwritingf1 · 1 day ago

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Good Girl | LN4

✨ summary ━━━━━━━ A quiet night in takes an unexpected turn when Y/n decides to spice things up, leading to a heated and intimate encounter that deepens her connection with Lando in ways neither of them anticipated.

✨ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

✨ word count ━━━━━━━ 5.4k

✨ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, unprotected sex, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), creampie

Based on this request.

The soft light of the TV flickered across the room, highlighting the sharp lines of Lando’s jaw and the gentle curve of Y/n’s lips. The movie they’d seen a dozen times before played in the background, its dialogue drowned out by the quiet hum of the city outside her apartment. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the glittering skyline of London, but neither of them was looking at the view.

Y/n sat cross-legged on the couch, her body turned slightly toward Lando, though her gaze was fixed on the screen. She couldn’t focus. Not when his hand rested casually on her thigh, his thumb absently tracing small circles over the fabric of her leggings. It was maddening, that touch—light enough to tease, heavy enough to make her pulse quicken. She shifted, pretending to adjust her position, but the truth was she wanted to feel more of him. Needed it.

Lando, ever the observant one, noticed. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he leaned back into the cushions, his eyes never leaving her. “You good?” he asked, his voice low and laced with amusement.

“Fine,” she replied quickly, her tone clipped. Too clipped. She hated how easily he could unravel her composure. She prided herself on being strong, unshakable, but around him? That facade crumbled like sand slipping through her fingers.

He chuckled softly, the sound sending warmth pooling low in her stomach. “You’re not fine. You keep fidgeting.” His hand slid higher on her thigh, just enough to make her breath hitch. “What’s on your mind, love?”

She opened her mouth to protest, to deflect, but something in his gaze stopped her. Those piercing blue/green eyes saw right through her, always had. He knew her better than anyone else ever had, and it terrified her. But tonight… tonight she didn’t want to fight it. Tonight, she wanted to give in.

Swallowing hard, Y/n moved suddenly, shifting her body until she was straddling his lap. The sudden movement caught him off guard, and for a moment, his playful smirk faltered, replaced by something darker, hungrier. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, her fingers brushing against the base of his neck as she leaned in close, her lips hovering just above his ear.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of vulnerability and determination. “I wanna be a good girl for you.”

Lando froze, his breath catching audibly in his throat. She felt the tension ripple through his body, his hands tightening instinctively on her waist. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough, strained. “Y/n…”

Her heart hammered in her chest as she pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, and she could see the hunger there, the barely restrained need. It mirrored her own. “Say it,” she urged, her voice soft but firm. “Tell me.”

For a moment, he seemed to wrestle with himself, his jaw clenching as if holding back a flood of words. Then, slowly, his hands slid up her sides, his thumbs brushing teasingly against the underside of her breasts. “You want to be good for me?” he murmured, his tone dripping with intent.

She nodded, biting her lower lip to stifle the whimper threatening to escape.

His smirk returned, sharper this time, more predatory. “Then take this off,” he said, tugging lightly at the hem of her oversized sweater. His voice was a command, but his touch was gentle, almost reverent.

Her hands trembled as she reached for the hem of her sweater, pulling it over her head and tossing it aside. The cool air of the apartment kissed her skin, raising goosebumps along her arms. Beneath, she wore only a simple black bralette, its lace detailing doing little to hide the hardened peaks of her nipples.

Lando’s eyes raked over her, his gaze burning with an intensity that made her thighs clench. “Beautiful,” he breathed, his hands sliding up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples through the delicate fabric.

She gasped, arching into his touch, her nails digging into his shoulders. “Lando…”

“Shh,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss just below her jaw. “Let me take care of you.”

His lips trailed down her neck, each kiss sending sparks of electricity racing through her veins. His hands left her breasts, moving instead to her hips, gripping her firmly as he guided her movements. “Ride me,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Slow. I want to feel all of you.”

Her breath hitched, the air between them thick with anticipation. Her fingers trembled as they found the button of his jeans, her movements slow and deliberate. Lando’s hands rested on her hips, steadying her, but he didn’t rush her. He let her take control, his gaze locked on hers, dark and unyielding. She undid the button, then the zipper, her fingertips brushing against the waistband of his boxers. The fabric gave way easily, and she reached inside, wrapping her hand around him. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but the weight of him in her palm sent a shiver down her spine. She could feel him stirring under her touch, responding to her closeness, her warmth. “You’re so soft,” she murmured, almost to herself, her thumb tracing the length of him. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried enough weight to make his breath catch. Lando’s grip tightened on her hips, his jaw clenching as he fought to keep still. “Keep going,” he urged, his voice rough, strained. “Don’t stop.” She obeyed, shifting slightly to straddle him more fully. Her hand moved slowly, up and down, her touch firm but gentle. She watched his face, the way his eyelids fluttered, the way his lips parted as his breathing grew uneven. With every stroke, she felt him grow harder, thicker, until he was fully erect in her hand. “There you are,” she whispered, a small smile playing on her lips. She leaned forward, her chest brushing against his, her breath warm against his ear. “All for me.” His hands slid up her back, pulling her closer, his fingers tangling in her hair. “Y/n…” Her name came out as a groan, low and desperate.

She hesitated for only a moment before shifting off his lap, her legs trembling slightly as she stood. Lando’s hands lingered on her hips, his grip firm, as if reluctant to let her go. His gaze followed her every movement, dark and unyielding, a silent command that made her pulse race. She reached for the waistband of her leggings, her fingers fumbling with the fabric.

“Let me see you,” Lando said, his voice low and gravelly, his eyes never leaving her. His words were quiet but heavy, a quiet demand that sent a shiver down her spine.

Y/n’s breath hitched as she tugged the leggings down her legs, letting them pool at her feet. She stepped out of them, her bare skin exposed to the cool air of the apartment. Her hands hovered at the edges of her lace underwear, her cheeks flushed with a mix of arousal and hesitation.

“All of it,” Lando murmured, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. His lips parted slightly, his chest rising and falling with each breath as he watched her.

She nodded, swallowing hard as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear and slid them down to join her leggings on the floor. Completely bare now, she could feel the weight of his gaze on her, searing every inch of her skin.

Her breath hitched as she leaned over, pulling open the drawer of the coffee table. Her fingers brushed against the smooth foil of the condom wrapper, its cool texture grounding her in the moment. She retrieved it with trembling hands, the faint crinkle of the packaging breaking the quiet tension in the room.

Sliding back into position, she tore the wrapper open with practiced care, the latex smooth and cool as she rolled it down his length. Her touch was deliberate, almost reverent, her fingers steadying as she ensured everything was perfectly in place.

Lando let out a sharp exhale, his grip tightening on her hips, his fingertips pressing into her skin with a possessive intensity. His gaze locked onto hers, dark and unwavering, the weight of his desire clear in every breath.

"There you are," she murmured, her voice a mix of satisfaction and playful confidence as she leaned closer, her lips hovering near his. "All protected. All mine." She then stood still for a moment, letting him take her in, before stepping forward again and settling back onto his lap.

Then, rising up on her knees, she positioned herself over him, her body trembling with anticipation. Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, she sank down onto him, her breath catching as he filled her completely. A soft moan escaped her lips as she settled into his lap, her thighs pressing against his. Their bodies fit together perfectly, as if they were made for this, for each other.

Lando’s head fell back against the couch, a guttural sound escaping his throat. His hands gripped her hips tightly, guiding her movements as she began to rock against him. “Fuck, Y/n…” he breathed, his voice ragged. “Just like that.” She moved slowly at first, savoring the feeling of him inside her, the way he stretched her, filled her. Her hips rising and falling with deliberate precision, each motion drawing a low groan from Lando’s throat. His hands gripped her waist, guiding her rhythm, but his eyes were fixed on her chest, the way her breasts swayed with every movement. The black lace bralette clung to her skin, barely containing her as she rocked against him.

“Take it off,” he commanded, his voice rough, almost guttural. His fingers traced the edge of the fabric, teasing but not touching. “I want to see you.” Her breath hitched, but she obeyed without hesitation. Reaching behind her back, she unhooked the clasp and let the bralette fall away, exposing herself fully to him. Her nipples hardened instantly under his gaze, the cool air brushing against her sensitive skin. Lando’s eyes darkened, his lips parting as he drank in the sight of her. “Fuck, Y/n…” His hands slid up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, eliciting a sharp gasp from her. “Play with them for me.” Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t hesitate. Bringing her hands to her chest, she pushed her breasts together, her fingers pinching and rolling her nipples as she continued to move on top of him. The sensation sent sparks racing through her body, her moans growing louder with each passing second.

Lando watched her intently, his breathing ragged, his grip tightening on her hips. “That’s it, love. Just like that.” His voice was thick with praise, and it only spurred her on further. She loved this—loved how much control he had over her, how much pleasure he could draw from her with just his words. Leaning forward, Lando captured one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard enough to make her cry out. His tongue swirled around the sensitive peak, alternating between gentle licks and sharp pulls that had her trembling above him. His free hand reached up to tease her other breast, his fingers mimicking the motions of his mouth. Y/n was a mess, her movements becoming erratic as pleasure coiled tight in her core. “Lando… oh god…” she whimpered, her nails digging into his shoulders as she clung to him. “I can’t… I can’t…” “You can,” he growled against her skin, his teeth grazing her nipple before soothing it with his tongue. “You’re doing so well for me, Y/n. Such a good girl.” His praise sent a shiver down her spine, her body responding instinctively to his words. She loved this—loved being obedient for him, loved how he made her feel wanted, cherished, *his*. Her pace quickened, her hips rolling in a rhythm that had them both gasping for air, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony.But as the tension built, her pace quickened, her hips rolling in a rhythm that had them both gasping for air. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her body arching as pleasure coiled tight in her core. “Lando…” she whimpered, her voice breaking as she clung to him. “I… I can’t…” “Yes, you can,” he growled, his hands tightening on her hips, urging her on. “Come for me, love. Let go.” And she did. With a cry, her body shuddered, waves of pleasure crashing over her as she fell apart in his arms. Lando followed soon after, his own release tearing through him with a force that left him breathless, his grip on her hips bruising as he held her close. For a moment, neither of them moved, their bodies still connected, their breaths mingling in the quiet room. Then, slowly, Y/n collapsed against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder as she tried to catch her breath.

Lando’s grip on her hips loosened as she slumped against him, their chests rising and falling in unison, the heat of their bodies still mingling in the air. His fingers brushed the damp strands of hair sticking to her forehead, tucking them behind her ear with a gentleness that contrasted the intensity of moments before. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he shifted beneath her, his hands guiding her hips just enough so he could slip out of her. The sensation made her shudder, a faint whimper escaping her lips as she remained draped over him.

His eyes stayed on her as he reached between them, his fingers deftly rolling the condom down and off. He tied it quickly at the top, a practiced motion, before tossing it aside onto the carpet, the quiet thud barely audible over the sound of their breathing. Y/n didn’t move from his lap, her legs still straddling him, her body still trembling faintly from the aftershocks.

Lando’s arms wrapped around her again, pulling her closer as he pressed a soft kiss to her temple. His hands trailed up her back, fingertips tracing the curve of her spine, his touch soothing yet possessive, as if to remind her she was still his, even in the quiet aftermath.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice filled with both awe and tenderness. “Every time, you amaze me.”

Y/n smiled faintly, her eyelids growing heavy as she let her head rest against his shoulder. “I just… wanted to be a good girl for you.”

He chuckled softly, his chest rumbling beneath her. “Oh, love,” he said, his tone laced with affection, “you’re more than good. You’re perfect.”

The room was still steeped in the heavy, sated air of their lovemaking. Y/n’s skin was still flush with warmth, her body humming with the echoes of pleasure that Lando had drawn from her. His fingers traced lazy patterns along her spine, the touch so light it felt like a whisper, yet it sent shivers cascading down her back. She pressed herself closer to him, her head resting against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat—a soothing counterpoint to the chaos of her own thoughts.

Lando’s hand paused at the base of her neck, his fingers curling gently around her nape. His lips brushed against the top of her head, the gesture tender but laced with something more—something possessive, something that made her stomach flutter.

“You know what happens to a good girl like you after this?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, the sound of it vibrating through her like a second heartbeat.

She lifted her head slightly, her eyes meeting his. Those blue/green eyes, always so full of mischief and warmth, were dark now, pupils blown wide with something that made her breath catch in her throat. “What?” she whispered, her voice barely audible, her lips still tingling from the way he’d kissed her so thoroughly just moments ago.

“She gets spoiled,” he replied, his hands sliding to cradle her face. His thumbs brushed her cheekbones, the touch gentle but deliberate, as if he were memorizing the contours of her face. “Completely spoiled.”

Her lips curved into a soft smile, though the warmth in her cheeks betrayed her. “Spoiled how?” she asked, her voice teasing, though the way her pulse quickened under his gaze gave her away.

He leaned closer, his forehead resting gently against hers, their breaths mingling in the short space between them. “First, by me making sure you’re completely taken care of,” he murmured, his tone dripping with promise. “Every muscle relaxed, every part of you feeling nothing but pleasure. And then…” His hands slid down to her lower back, applying just enough pressure to make her arch slightly into his touch. “By showing you exactly how much I adore you—again and again.”

Her breath hitched at his words, a blush creeping up her neck, spreading across her chest. Despite the exhaustion settling in her muscles, she felt a renewed surge of energy, her body already anticipating his next move.

“Lando…” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, caught between disbelief and need.

He grinned, the corners of his mouth curving in that signature playful smirk that always undid her. “Still want to be my good girl?” he asked, his hands moving with deliberate precision, reigniting every dormant nerve ending with his touch.

She nodded, unable to form coherent words as she pressed herself closer to him, her body already answering for her.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with intent. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

And with that, he shifted, his hands gripping her waist as he carefully lifted her off him. She let out a soft gasp as he laid her back against the couch, her body sinking into the plush cushions.

His eyes stayed locked on hers, unwavering, as he knelt between her thighs. The weight of his gaze was heavy, possessive, and it sent a wave of electricity down her spine. His hands slid up her legs, the calloused pads of his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake, slow and deliberate.

She couldn’t control the shiver that ran through her body, her muscles tensing then relaxing under his touch. His smirk crept back, wicked and knowing, as his eyes darkened. The air between them thickened, charged with a tension that made her pulse quicken, her body instinctively arching toward his.

“Spread for me,” he commanded, his voice firm but soft, the kind of tone that made her body obey before her mind could catch up.

She did as he asked, her legs falling open, her heart pounding in her chest as he leaned down, his lips brushing against the inside of her thigh. His breath was warm against her skin, and she could feel the heat of him, the promise of what was to come.

“Lando…” she breathed, her hands gripping the pillows beneath her, her body already trembling.

“Shh,” he murmured, his lips trailing higher, closer, until he was right there, his breath ghosting over her most sensitive spot. “Let me take care of you.”

His tongue darted out, a soft, teasing lick that made her hips jerk off. He chuckled darkly, his hands gripping her thighs to hold her in place. “Stay still,” he ordered, his voice low and rough, the kind of tone that sent sparks racing through her veins.

She bit her lip, trying to obey, but it was impossible when his mouth was on her, his tongue working her in slow, deliberate strokes that had her moaning within seconds. He took his time, savoring her, his tongue flicking and swirling in ways that made her see stars. Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging lightly, but he didn’t falter, didn’t speed up. He kept his pace maddeningly slow, drawing out every ounce of pleasure until she was a writhing, incoherent mess beneath him.

“Please…” she whimpered, her voice breaking as she arched into him, her body trembling on the edge.

His lips pulled away from her with a soft, wet sound, leaving her trembling, her body arching off the couch in desperation. His tongue ran across his bottom lip, savoring her taste, his eyes heavy with a heat that matched her own. Hungry. Unrelenting. His hand moved between his legs, calloused fingers wrapping around the base of his cock with a practiced ease, already semi-hard from how much she’d unraveled beneath him. The sight of her—legs spread, chest heaving, her arousal glistening under the dim light—was enough to make him throb in his own grip.

He began to stroke himself slowly, his eyes locked on hers, his other hand still gripping her thigh, pinning her in place. Every pull of his hand drew a soft groan from his lips, the sound raw and unfiltered, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the way he worked himself, already so hard again. The thick vein running along his length pulsed under the rhythm of his strokes, the taut skin glistening with the same heat that pooled between her thighs.

Her breath hitched, her core clenching in response, and she could feel the dampness trickle down, making her squirm under his gaze. “Lando…” His name came out as a strangled whimper, her hands clutching at the cushions, her hips lifting off the couch as if begging for more.

He smirked, that wicked, confident curve of his lips that always melted her resolve. “What do you want, love?” His voice was low, rough with the edge of lust, but it wasn’t just lust—it was something deeper, something possessive. His thumb circled the head of his cock, smearing the bead of precum that had gathered there, and she shuddered, her eyes fixated on the motion.

“Tell me,” he demanded, his voice sharp yet so sweet it made her whine. One hand remained on his cock, the other sliding back between her legs, his fingers brushing over her soaked folds, teasing but not giving her what she needed. He pressed one finger against her clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles, and her hips bucked, her moan loud and unfiltered.

Her lips parted, her words sluggish, her mind too fogged with want to think straight. “I want… I want you…” Her voice trembled, her gaze flickering between his face and the way his hand moved over himself, each stroke making him harder, more ready for her.

“Where?” he pressed, his fingers dipping between her folds, sliding through her wetness before pulling away again, leaving her clenching around nothing. His hand on his cock tightened, his pace quickening, and she could see the tension building in his body, the way his abs flexed, the corded muscles in his arms straining with every stroke.

Her breath came in shallow gasps, her thighs shaking as she tried to keep herself open for him. “Inside me… please.”

His groan was primal, his body drawn toward hers like a magnet. “Fuck, baby,” he rasped, his breath shallow, the head of his cock nudging against her entrance. But he didn’t push in—not yet. Instead, he let his tip glide along her folds, teasing her clit with every pass, the sensation making her cry out, her hands clawing at the couch cushions.

“Say it again,” he growled, his voice thick with need, his hand still wrapped around himself, squeezing the base of his shaft as if to stop himself from losing control.

“Please, Lando… inside me.” Her voice was barely a whisper, her body trembling with the effort of holding herself together.

He rewarded her with a single thrust, the head of his cock sliding into her just enough to make her feel the stretch, the heat, the sheer size of him. A low moan escaped her lips, and he pulled back, teasing her entrance again, his thumb rubbing her clit in tandem with the slow, torturous glide of his cock.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his pace on his own length faltering as he focused on her, on the way her body reacted to him, the way her hips lifted off the couch, desperate for more. “And so fucking wet.”

He angled his hips, pushing into her again, deeper this time, the stretch making her gasp, her hands flying to his biceps, her nails digging into his skin. “More…” she whimpered, her voice breaking as he retreated again, leaving her clenching around his emptiness.

“You want more, baby?” His voice was pure sin, his lips brushing over her neck, his breath hot against her skin as he teased her with every gentle thrust. “Then show me how much you need me.”

The challenge in his tone made her hips jerk, and she clawed at his back, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him into her. “Please, Lando…” her voice cracked, her body trembling beneath him.

“Good girl,” he rasped, his mouth crashing onto hers, swallowing her moans as he thrust into her fully, filling her completely. “That’s it, love,” he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. “Take it. Take all of me.”

She could only nod, her body arching into his, her nails digging into his back as he drove her higher and higher. The pace was relentless,, his hips snapping against hers with a force that left her breathless. She could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in her core, every nerve in her body alight with pleasure.

“Lando… I can’t…” she gasped, her body trembling, every muscle coiled tight as the pressure built inside her. Her nails dug into his back, her hips arching desperately against his, chasing the release that hovered just out of reach.

He slowed, pulling back slightly, his breath ragged against her ear. “I’m close,” he growled, his voice thick with restraint. “I need to pull out—”

Her hands shot up, gripping his shoulders tightly, stopping him mid-motion. “No,” she breathed, her voice shaking but firm. “Don’t pull out. Stay inside me.”

Lando froze, his eyes locking onto hers, wide with surprise. This was new—this was *different*. They’d always been careful, always used protection. But now, her words hung in the air between them, raw and unguarded. His chest heaved as he searched her face, his expression a mix of disbelief and something deeper—something possessive, primal.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice rough, his hips still pressed flush against hers, not daring to move until he had her answer.

She nodded, her lips parting as she fought for breath. “Yes. I want you to… I want all of you.”

A low groan escaped him, his forehead dropping to hers as he cupped her face in his hands. “Fuck, love,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. “You have no idea what this means to me. Letting me claim you like this…”

She shivered at his words, her body responding to the intensity in his tone. “Please, Lando,” she begged, her legs tightening around his waist, pulling him deeper. “I need you.”

That was all it took. With a growl, he surged forward, his thrusts growing harder, faster, each one driving her closer to the edge. His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he pounded into her, the sound of their bodies colliding filling the room.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice dark and commanding. “Take it, love. Take everything I give you.”

Her moans grew louder, her fingers clawing at his back as the tension inside her snapped. She came with a cry, her body convulsing around him, waves of pleasure crashing over her in relentless succession. He followed her over the edge, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside her, his release hot and unrestrained.

For a moment, they stayed like that, locked together, their breaths mingling as they rode out the aftershocks. When he finally pulled back to look at her, his eyes were soft, filled with awe and something that made her heart ache.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Letting me have you like that… trusting me like that. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

She flushed, her cheeks burning, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she nodded, her lips curving into a shy smile. “Yours,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

He kissed her then, slow and deep, his hands cradling her face like she was something precious. And as they lay there, tangled together in the aftermath, she knew she’d never felt more wanted, more cherished, in her life.

She lay boneless beneath him, her body still trembling from the intensity of her release. He carefully pulled out of her and tucked her against his side, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Her body shuddered as she felt him slip out of her, the sensation sending a soft moan from her lips. A warm trickle of his release leaked down her thighs, the evidence of their passion both intimate and primal. Lando’s breath hitched as his gaze locked onto it, his eyes darkening with a mix of possessiveness and raw adoration.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent, as though he couldn’t believe she was here, like this, with him. He reached out, his fingertips brushing lightly against the corner of her wound, tracing the trail with a touch so tender it made her quiver. “Taking me so well. You’re perfect like this.”

She blushed deeply, her skin heating under his gaze, her body still tingling from the intensity of what they’d just shared. She shifted slightly, her legs instinctively pressing together, but his hand stopped her, his touch firm but gentle.“Don’t,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving hers. “Let me see you. Let me take care of you.”

His praise wrapped around her like a warm embrace, her shyness melting under his unwavering attention. She nodded, her lips trembling as she fought to find her voice. “Lando…” His name came out as a soft plea, a mix of vulnerability and something deeper, something that tied them together in this moment beyond just the physical.

“My good girl,” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead before trailing his lips down to her cheek, her jaw, her neck. Each kiss felt like a promise, a reaffirmation of everything they’d just shared. “So beautiful. So perfect for me.” He propped himself on his elbow, his fingers brushing away the hair that clung to her damp skin, his gaze softening as he looked at her.

“I’ve got you, love,” he whispered, his voice steady and sure. “Always.” She snuggled into his side, her body still humming from the intensity of their connection. Her eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion creeping in, but a playful smirk tugged at her lips.

“Two rounds,” she murmured, her voice teasing and light, though it carried a hint of pride. “I got two rounds out of you tonight.”

Lando chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. His hand paused on her arm, his thumb brushing over her skin in slow, lazy circles. “Don’t get too cocky, love. You might’ve worn me out, but I’m not done spoiling you yet.”

Her smirk widened, and she tilted her head to look up at him, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Round three, then?”

He groaned, half-laughing, half-exasperated, as he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Later,” he promised, his voice thick with amusement. “My dick’s officially retired for the night. Give it a few hours, yeah? Then we’ll see about round three.”

She giggled softly, the sound muffled against his chest as she nestled closer. “Fine. But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook that easily.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, his tone warm and affectionate. He pulled the blanket over them, wrapping them both in a cocoon of warmth and safety. His arms tightened around her, holding her close as if he never wanted to let go.

She fell asleep in his embrace, a smile lingering on her lips as she floated on a cloud of contentment. Safe. Loved. Wanted. And though she didn’t know what the morning would bring—whether his tenderness would hold through the night or if the daylight would reveal the cracks in their differences—she allowed herself this moment. This peace. Because right now, wrapped in his arms, she felt like she could conquer anything. Even the uncertainty of tomorrow.

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catchastarorten · 1 day ago

Text

—Pause the game.

Pairing: the salesman/recruiter x wife!fem!reader

Summary: your husband had some ‘work’ to take care of with the two people that had been trailing after him all day, but when your call came in, and when he found out that you felt sick, you became much more important than whatever he had going on.

Warnings: mainly fluff, mentions of Woo-seok and Jeong-rae following snd spying on him, some parts of the Russian roulette game, he’s soft for you, he misses you, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 1.4k

The day had been long, even by his standards. A hundred lottery scratchers, a hundred loaves of bread, the park, the homeless. He had been up to a little ‘social experiment’. Even then, he caught onto the two men who had been trailing behind him since the subway station.

He wasn’t stupid. Someone was after him, and these two lackeys were clearly here to track him down. His best guess? Seong Gi-hun.

Woo-seok and Jeong-rae had been following him like shadows—clumsy ones, attempting to blend in with the surroundings every time he stopped, as if they expected him to turn around and strike at any moment. And eventually, he did.

He had let them tail him, then to his surprise, they made the first move down an alleyway to avoid losing him. By the time they realized they had made a mistake, it was too late. He had taken them down quickly, efficiently, the way he always handled these things. No emotions, no hesitation.

Jeong-rae had gone down first, crumpled to the ground. Woo-seok tried to fight back with the poor attempt of using a small knife, but a sharp blow of the suitcase to his head had knocked him out.

Now, they were sitting across from each other, bound to chairs, tied up with ropes, their mouths gagged, their muffled groans filling the dimly lit room. They couldn’t scream, couldn’t beg—just incoherent muffled noises as they squirmed like trapped animals.

He slowly circled the two men, then stopped to place a hand on each of their shoulders, eyes filled with amusement at their looks of terror.

“We're going to play a game now... Rock, Paper, Scissors, Minus One. I trust you know the rules.” his gaze flickered from Jeong-rae to Woo-seok, a smile forming on his lips.

“You form a shape with each hand, then take one away. The game is decided by the remaining hands. Of course, there’s a penalty for the loser.” he picked up the nearby revolver and inspected it, then pressed the barrel to his temple. “Russian Roulette.”

Their muffled protests grew louder, their bodies twisting against the ropes in a futile attempt to escape. The two men were shaking, their breaths heavy as he leaned closer, his finger on the trigger.

Click.

Empty.

His smirk widened as he backed away slowly.

“Alright. Now, let’s play. On my count.”

But then, as he was getting ready to spin the cylinder of the revolver, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

His brows furrowed, the interruption pulling him out of the carefully constructed moment. He pulled the phone out, and the sight of your name on the screen made him pause.

He froze for a moment, staring at the screen as his heart softened. It wasn’t like you to call him in the middle of the day. You knew he was busy—always busy. The ‘work’ he pretended to do required him to keep odd hours, to vanish without explanation, and you never questioned it. You trusted him. And he loved you for that trust, even if he didn’t deserve it.

His thumb hovering over the answer button before taking a deep breath and sliding his mask of indifference back into place. But when he answered, his voice betrayed him. It was warm, gentle—a tone he reserved only for you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft, the edge it had carried a moment ago completely gone. He shot the two men a warning look, his eyes narrowing as if daring them to make a sound.

Turning away from them, his tone dropped into something almost tender. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Your voice came through the line, quiet and tinged with vulnerability. “I… I didn’t mean to bother you. I just… I’m not feeling well.”

He could hear the catch in your throat, the faint rasp. “Are you sick?” he asked, straightening.

There was a pause on your end, then a soft sniffle that nearly broke his heart. “Yeah. Just a cold, I think. My head hurts, and I’m all stuffed up.”

He closed his eyes, letting out a slow, steadying breath as guilt twisted in his chest. You sounded miserable, and he hated that he wasn’t there to take care of you. Hated that he was here, in this cold room, when he should’ve been home with you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I know you’re busy. I just… I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said quickly, his voice gentle but firm. “You can call me anytime, okay? I mean it. Anytime.”

There was a pause, and then he heard another sniffle on the other end. It made his chest clench. “Where are you?” you asked. “Are you coming home soon?”

He glanced down at Woo-seok and Jeong-rae, their wide, panicked eyes watching him like trapped prey. The revolver gleamed on the table beside him, a stark reminder of the life he led when he wasn’t with you.

For the first time all day, he felt a pang of guilt—not for them, but for you. For the life he kept hidden from you. You had no idea what he did, the darkness he waded through every day. And he wanted to keep it that way. You were his light, his one connection to something pure and good in a world full of shadows.

“Soon,” he promised, his voice softening even further. “I’ll be home soon."

You didn’t reply right away, but he could picture you nodding, your lips pressed into that small, tired smile you always gave him when you were sick. He could see you in his mind—wrapped in a blanket, your hair messy, your cheeks flushed from the fever.

“There’s soup in the fridge,” he added gently. “I made it this morning. Heat some up, okay? And the heating pad’s in the bottom drawer. You’ll feel better if you use it.”

“Okay,” you murmured, your voice tired.

“I love you,” he said, the word coming out more vulnerable than he intended.

“I love you too,” you replied, and he could hear the faint smile in your voice despite the cold.

His chest tightened at the sound of those words. He glanced away from the two men on the floor, his jaw clenching as he fought the sudden wave of emotion that threatened to rise. “Now go rest, my love. I’ll be home soon.” his voice was thick with sincerity.

When the call ended, the room was silent. He stared down at the phone in his hand, his mind still on you.

For a moment, he let himself imagine walking through the door of your shared apartment, dropping his keys on the counter, and finding you curled up on the couch. He’d press a kiss to your forehead, make sure you were warm, and hold you until you fell asleep. That was all he wanted.

But instead, he was stuck here.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned his attention to Woo-seok and Jeong-rae. His expression hardened once more. “Well,” he said. “Where were we?”

He reached for the revolver, spinning the cylinder with a practiced flick of his wrist. The sound echoed through the room, sharp and final.

“Rock, paper, scissors,” he said, his tone almost mocking. “Loser gets to test their luck with this. Simple, right?”

He crouched down in front of them, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring their terror.

They shook their heads frantically, their breathing heavy, protests muffled by the gag. He sighed, standing up and running a hand through his hair. “You know,” he said, his voice almost casual. “I’d love to stay and play, but I’ve got someone waiting for me at home. So let’s not drag this out.”

Their muffled protests grew louder, but he didn’t care. This was his world. His game.

And when it was over, he’d go home to you. To the warmth of your love, the softness of your touch.

You didn’t know what he was. What he did. And he intended to keep it that way.

Because as long as you were safe, as long as you loved him, he could pretend—for just a little while—that he was someone worth loving.

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kirbmey · 3 days ago

Text

⠀⠀ཐི ˚̣̣̣ ⠀⠀ husband!sylus spoils you rotten⠀ ˚̣̣̣ ཋྀ

synopsis: sylus’ just a man who’s blindly in love at the end of the day. a man who’s also ridiculously rich and happens to be married to a little angel who loves pink and shiny things ꒰՞◌• ༝ •◌꒱♡

tw: more fluff (i just need him to take care of me), usage of ‘daddy, reader is a sweatheart, money doesn’t have value for these people at all, reader is very feminine and materialistic (sylus’ fault), mentions of pregnancy and baby fever, he smokes, etc.

being laid down on top of the pink fluffy blanket covering the big four-seater leather couch while waiving your feet slowly and scrolling mindlessly through your favorite luxury brands’ websites was definitely a hobby; an expensive hobby.

but weren’t those pink miumiu ballerinas just so perfect for the spring? and what about that dior shoulder bag? the handle made out of white gold with little diamonds creating details around the fabric? to the cart it goes.

let’s not even get started with make up, knowing how much sylus liked it when you wore this crimson chanel lipstick to his prestigious meetings, you just had to buy another one, and it had to be the limited edition, too… ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

he was more than okay with you leaving him dry (he has money for infinite lifetimes) every other day, handing you his black card when you two started dating a year ago; got married two months after.

sylus just had to make you his wife, his trophy, you were so perfect to his eyes, his ideal type. everything about you, physically and mentally fit with him like a puzzle. like a barbie to her ken.

and he was so… so. god, he was like a god (he kinda was). tall, fit, deep voice, pretty face, beautiful eyes, soft hair… and a plus to that, he was rich and influential. and he wanted you and only you! ૮ ෆ ´ ˕ ` ෆ ა

so you just clicked on the ‘check out’ button and wrote down the digits you ended up learning by heart, caressing the rock on your finger while waiting for the confirmation of your order.

sure, these expensive goods took longer than usual to be shipped, blah blah blah. sylus was one of the richest men in the country, his name was written in gold on every luxury brand list. when they saw he ordered something, anything, even just a hair clip, he was prioritized.

you happily jumped out of your seat, skipped with joy towards your husbands office, knocking before hearing a clear ‘come in’ from him.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　 “daddy, daddy! wanna see what i got for tomorrow’s party?” you asked with that sweat tone that you only reserved for him, sitting on his expensive wooden desk and swinging your feet.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　 “of course i do, kitten, lemme see.” he closed his laptop immediately, pulling the tall leather chair closer to your small frame and holding your ankles between his slender fingers, massaging your manicured feet while you scrolled through your phone to show him pictures and the inspo you got out of pinterest.

you started to rant about all the things you bought with his money, gaining low hums while he stared at you with heart-shaped eyes, an erase-able smile plastered of his sculpted face.

sylus loved it when you used his money and then bragged about it, loved it when someone complimented your outfit at a fancy dinner and you kindly thanked, saying your husband bought it for you.

but his favorite part of this whole process was when you made him sit on your bed which was filled with high-end bags, so many that the sheets weren’t even visible anymore, and gave him a detailed haul of everything, with try on included (by his request).

he’d order you to twirl around while he sipped on some french wine and smoked his cuban tobacco, manspreading so you could stand between his legs and allow him to take in every detail.

ever since he started dating you he slowly noticed these expensive brands paid crazy amount of attention to every detail, and he loved tracing the intricate shapes printed on the fabric while complimenting you.

but you were no selfish! no sir, you also bought things for your beloved, fantasizing about matching outfits with him, ordering him light colored clothes; things he’d never wear if it wasn’t for you.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　 “mm, what else do we have here… i don’t even remember what i got this time.” you mumbled while you stood on your knees on top of the mattress, throwing the empty bags away as you looked for the ones you haven’t opened yet.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　 “oh. my. god. sylus, close your eyes.” you told him trying to mask your excitement, grabbing the huge bag between weak fingers and placing it in front of him. “open them now, look.”

⠀ ⠀ 　　　 “isn’t this too big for you, honey?” he questioned leaving the cigarette in the ashtray, holding the white leopard fur coat up, the tag said ‘dolce & gabbana’, one of his favorite brands.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　 “no, silly. it’s for you. i thought you’d look so good with it on.” you revealed, grabbing his hand to coax him into standing up, stripping him naked out of his shirt and getting on your tippy toes to dress him with said coat.

he really looked expensive with it on, showing off his trained abs and juicy pecs while making his broad figure appear even more prominent, the neck chain he often wore visible.

he wasn’t used to using big pieces like this, but he let you style him as a mere mannequin; he’d always get more compliments then usual on his outfits ever since you started matching them with yours.

he’d often caught you checking out baby clothes or nursery furniture when your period got close, too. and couldn’t help but imagine how good of a mother you’d be, how beautiful you’d look in your sleeping gowns with a swollen belly.

if sylus already cherished you in front of everyone, proud of showing you off as his wife, he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of showing off an entire family ૮꒰ ྀི ◜ . ◝ ྀི꒱ა

but there was time for that, you were too young still and he wasn’t going to age or die any time soon.

he just hoped you wouldn’t ask for a baby; he didn’t know how to decline you.

a/n: i’ve been an unfaithful girl writing sm about caleb and neglecting my favorite boy sy like this :(

— masterlist.

#lads headcanons #lads smut #lads x reader #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace fic #sylus smut #sylus fluff #ldns sylus #lads sylus smut #love and deepspace sylus smut #sylus headcanons #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #lads sylus #sylus imagine

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fairestwriting · 2 days ago

Note

Reader sleeping on the couch after an argument w/Dorm leaders? How they would react w/happy endings?

this got super long so i decided to change up the post layout so longer stuff would look nicer. But im also posting from a new device so if this goes up and theres any formatting fumbles then uhm. you didnt see anything

𐙚 Riddle Rosehearts

Despite how hotheaded and stubborn he is, it’s actually really rare for you two to really argue. He values your opinions on everything, and he’d hate for you to feel like he doesn’t hear you or care about your feelings. The last thing he wants is to make you feel like doesn’t care.

That, however, is something he’s still learning. It’s not very easy to let go of the habits he developed growing up— Especially if he thinks what he’s doing is best for you. He doesn’t know how to convince people, so he ends up coming off forceful and inconsiderate. It might even happen without him noticing he messed up, if you’re not extra straightforward about it.

So he knew you weren’t happy with him, but really didn’t think it was that bad, seeing you asleep on the couch is the last thing he was expecting. Even more if it’s the first time it happens, it makes him freeze go into panic mode.

You’re woken up to a really shaken looking Riddle, asking you what you’re doing on the couch at this time in very genuine confusion. He might not even have considered it was because of the argument, too focused on trying to figure out what’s up with you. And it’s hard to stay upset at him when he so readily listens to whatever you have to say, apologizing profusely and making a promise to not do it again that he’ll always keep. His intention from the start was to do what’s best for you, after all— So if he turns out to be wrong, the first thing he wants to do is to correct it.

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

Arguing with Leona is… definitely a situation. It might have you wondering if it even counts as an argument at all. Sometimes he just doesn’t seem to even react to what you have to say, sometimes he straight up states he can’t be bothered to argue. He’s not as stubborn towards people he really likes, but he’s still very proud.

He can actually tell that he messed up very quickly, pretty much in the middle of whatever interaction went wrong, but can’t bring himself to actually back down and admit it. He doesn’t even bother trying to convince himself that he’s right or anything, he’s just that allergic to saying the word “sorry”.

When he walks past you, his first thought is that he should just “let you sulk”. It’s probably not the first time it happens to him in a relationship— And the same routine plays out every time. He wants to walk away, but he can’t. He eventually does, then he comes back and stares for minutes. Regret starts to really sink in then.

You have a blanket draped over you the day after, and Leona just so happens to be around to ask, much more tentatively than usual, if you’re coming with him to get breakfast. It’s his version of an apology, kind of. He’ll actually say it out loud if the subject of the argument was more serious, but that’s rare. He’s not very good at this and the both of you are aware of that, but he still cares, and he’ll get there eventually. Maybe.

𐙚 Azul Ashengrotto

Surprisingly, or perhaps not, he might actually have the lowest argument rate out of all dorm leaders? He owes a lot of it to just being good with words, he pretty much always manages to bring up his disagreements in a really non-confrontational way, they’ll barely even register as disagreements at all. If he can’t find a way to seamlessly compromise, he often just keeps his thoughts to himself.

...Mostly because he gets too anxious at the possibility of you rejecting him. Even if it’s something small, it’ll stay inside his head and refuse to leave, getting dwelled on when life starts to get particularly stressful. If you two argue, the likelihood is that he actually started it, because some other minor issue came up and the pile he was mentally stacking ended up falling apart.

Things can get really messy in the moment. Everything sounds offensive to him when he’s freaking out, while at the same time he’s painfully aware that he’s being overly emotional and causing problems that didn’t exist before. He stops his rant suddenly when self control manages to return to him, but at that point things were already said, and you’re walking separate ways after he awkwardly suggests you two just take a moment to cool off.

He might not even see you on the couch, being too ashamed to leave his office, but Jade will let him know either way. Azul won’t disrupt your sleep, and he’ll even try to give you enough time in the morning to get through your usual routine, but as soon as it’s possible he’s looking for you to privately apologize. He takes care to clear up any misunderstandings before voicing any of his worries, even though it’s visible how nervous he is. It comforts him just to see you looking at him with fondness again, seriously relieved that he won’t be losing you over the situation.

𐙚 Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim is another one who doesn’t really argue, but that’s not to say he doesn’t voice his disagreements, because he does, and he does it very often. It happens as soon as the thought pops up in his mind, spoken all lightheartedly. Regardless of what the subject being talked about is.

…Which can very easily become a problem. He does take all your boundaries very seriously, but you need to be very straightforward about them. So if it happens that you two get into a topic he doesn’t know is touchy for you, he might say something that comes off insensitive. And yes, he will ask you as soon as he sees the change in your expression, but the lack of tact doesn’t mix well with you already being upset, and you end up just walking away.

Only then he stops talking, freezing up completely. He can tell, that you probably want some space now, and he’ll honor that— but the whole thing doesn’t leave his mind for hours. He has no clue of when he should go look for you to try to talk and apologize, no clue of how he should even word it all when he doesn’t know what he did wrong. His heart shatters when he sees you sleeping on the couch.

He probably asked Jamil for advice, then heard that he should really give you your space, but he just can’t take it. You get shaken awake and he’s tearing up while he apologizes, saying he really didn’t mean to make you upset, that he’ll do his best to be more careful if you tell him just what went wrong, but also that you don’t need to talk right now if you don’t want— He’s a little clumsy, and very emotional, but you know he means well, and that he loves you very much, which he’ll be sure remind you of over and over again.

𐙚 Vil Schoenheit

It’s no secret that he can really nag people, but Vil really doesn’t like to actually argue— He’ll say it every time a disagreement or misunderstanding starts to get tense. Partially a self-reminder, he’s aware that he doesn’t have nearly as much patience as he would like to. It can take a decent amount of effort to keep himself in check.

You two do successfully compromise very often, but sometimes even his suggestions can come off very harsh. It’s no secret to anyone who knows him. His peacemaking attempts are still pretty blunt, and his opinions are never held back. It can easily get upsetting, going as far as feeling like he’s judging you even though he’s not.

Vil actually takes a moment to tell that he might have said the wrong thing. He’s not so proud he’ll refuse to admit his own mistakes, but he’s just… used to upsetting people. You can outright leave mid conversation and it still won’t be his gut reaction, he always believes whatever he’s saying and only wants the best for you. It can take a good few moments until he realizes you’re not just “sulking” the way his underclassmen at the dorm do when he scolds them. Finding you asleep on the couch can honestly shock him.

He won’t wake you up right away— It’s still important for you to get your rest, and he wants to really think about what happened before he says anything— but there’s no way he’ll let you spend the night there. His voice is really soft when he calls your name, waiting for you to gather yourself before he tells you he’s sorry. Gently reassuring you in whatever you need while he explains himself, he’ll make sure everything is okay before he touches you at all, wrapping you up into a hug when everything is finally settled.

𐙚 Idia Shroud

He’s freaking out, full stop. He didn’t even think he’d ever get far enough with someone to be in this position. Since when does he even have the audacity to argue with a partner he never even believed he’d get? Whatever he did, he wholeheartedly believes he screwed up big time.

...And even though it’s his anxiety talking first, he might actually be right. He’s usually really passive, doesn’t even voice disagreements beyond maybe just whining about not wanting to go somewhere with a lot of people. And even then, he might be willing to try, just for you — So what went wrong? Probably a messy misunderstanding, where he said a lot of things he doesn’t mean…

He’s honestly just expecting it to be over. Believing that you’re going to block all his socials and never speak to him again. The second you walk away, the only thing in his mind is the absolute worst, so when he sees you on the couch he’s… relieved? But just for a second. It means there’s still hope for him! You would have just disappared if you wanted nothing to do with him, right? But he also recognizes the trope, he knows he’s going to need to work to be forgiven—

Idia is just standing there when you wake up. Pacing around the living room and losing his mind. He gets startled when he sees you’re awake, like he’s terrified of what will come next. At least he’s had (more than) enough time to think about what happened… the apology you get is very much sincere, even if it gets rambly at certain parts, ending with the two of you comforting each other.

𐙚 Malleus Draconia

For obvious reasons, things can get tricky with Malleus. Whenever you feel like you’re really starting to understand him, something strange will happen again, it’s a real cycle. All the factors in his upbringing connect with each other to build a very specific kind of character. Even if it looks like you two are really similar, there’s going to be a minimum of a handful of details that just change everything.

He’s always careful with his words, with basically no exception, but sometimes he just doesn’t know what the “right” thing to say would be, or he doesn’t know what a certain cue could mean in the moment, or whatever he knows is something that doesn’t apply outside of specific context of the royal family he’s a part of— The possibilities are endless, but a lot of the time, it’s more likely that things will just chalk up to the fact you don’t understand each other’s perspectives.

He might notice something is off right away, he might think nothing wrong happened at all, it can be wildly different depending on the topic at hand. He’ll ask what’s wrong if he does notice, but even if you do try to explain to him why you’re hurt, it may not make sense inside his head right away. And even though he’s genuine and fast to apologize, it can feel cold when he clearly can’t tell what’s actually wrong.

When he walks by the couch you’re asleep on, it doesn’t even register as being related to the argument right away. He shakes you awake to tell you it’s not a good idea to sleep there because it gets really cold later in the night. Right now, he’s had enough time to process and understand the situation, quickly giving you a new, truly heartfelt apology. Even if in the whole thing, in retrospect, was a pretty minor issue — And if it isn’t, or you’re just not ready to forgive him yet for whatever reason, he doesn’t push it. The only thing he’ll insist on is having you sleep somewhere more comfortable, really.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

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artyandink · 2 days ago

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———————————————————FRAT.ᐟDICK THOUGHTS ᝰ.ᐣ

PROCEED WITH CAUTION, LADY KILLER AHEAD.ᐟ

From your first kiss slash make out with your pussy session with your best friend since childhood, things had been getting a little out of control, let’s say. You could never walk anywhere without the between of your thighs being sensitive from how he’d randomly invite you to his dorm or to a side closet to yank up your skirt, get on his knees and wrap his lips around your clit so you’d have to clamp a hand over your mouth so no one heard you.

Honestly, he was taking a whole new meaning to oral fixation.

“That’s it, just— just stay right there,” He mumbled against your cunt, and it’s not like you could move, especially when he’d made it so your legs were spread by his hands like you were the former acrobat here and his mouth was practically making out with your pussy, chin glistening and dripping as well, moaning shamelessly.

It blew your mind, how he could be more vocal than you right now, his own deep sounds followed up with high pitched ones harmonising with yours, backwards cap abandoned next to you. “Dickie, mmh,” All this had come to you sexualising the nickname you’d always had for him. The Dickie that had once engaged in pillow fights was now a big fan of getting surrounded by your thighs and making sure you couldn’t speak words.

Your shirt wasn’t even fully off, just unbuttoned enough to pull down your bra and suck on your tits, though your jeans were fully off— on days where you wore a skirt he wouldn’t even bother to take that off, it turned him on to eat a girl (you) out with his head under her skirt.

At this point you’ve narrowly avoided getting kicked from the library five times.

“C’mon, sweetheart, give it to me.” He mumbled, sucking on you, which produced wet noises that set your nerve endings on fire and— give it to him? What did he want you to give— oh.

Somehow your orgasms got more and more intense the better he learnt your body from the inside-out, this time your eyes rolled back and you pulled his hair sharply, which only made him moan as he licked you clean and drank you like a fucking glass of water.

“So fucking good, baby.” The praise sent a shiver up your spine, as did how his own eyes briefly rolled to the back of his head at how good you tasted, still suckling at your clit and pulling soft whimpers from your throat. His eyes flicked to the clock, and your hand shot out to grab the towel you already had as preparation—

His hand gently guided yours back into his hair. “Not so fast, baby, we have fifteen minutes.”

Your eyes widened slightly, unable to stop the small sounds from spilling past your lips as his own lavished attention on you. “What?”

“Lay back, c’mon, cause shit, I ain’t done.” His grin was devilish, and you knew right then that you weren’t gonna walk right after this, not when Dick Grayson’s eating your pussy like he’s on death row.

This wasn’t good.

This didn’t even have a label.

#dc x reader #x reader #dc smut #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x reader smut #dick grayson smut #nightwing smut #nightwing x reader smut #dick grayson imagine #nightwing x you #dick grayson x you #nightwing x reader

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malusokay · 2 days ago

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when sad days hit 𓂃⋆.˚

sometimes, when life feels heavy, it’s hard to figure out what to do with yourself. here’s a little list of things that help me feel more grounded on days when everything seems off:

clear your schedule as much as you can. make time for yourself, to breathe, distract yourself, and focus on what brings you a little joy.

step outside for a bit. even if it’s just walking to the store to grab a snack. If going for a walk feels pointless, having a tiny mission (like buying chocolate or gum) can make it feel more doable.

call a friend. if calling feels like too much, text someone you trust. even a small connection can help break the mental loop.

stay warm. I swear, being cold makes everything worse.

try to pinpoint why you’re sad. if there’s no clear reason, that’s okay too, don’t overthink it. sometimes feelings just exist, and that’s okay.

move your body. you don’t have to hit the gym if that feels like too much. a YouTube workout, some yoga, or even just stretching can release some of the tension.

take a shower. clean hair = clean mind. I don’t know why, but when my hair feels dirty, I feel awful.

chill with the caffeine. too much coffee makes me more restless and anxious, so try to swap it for tea or water when you're already feeling down.

get off your phone. do something creative instead, make a collage, bake cookies, experiment with makeup. it’s a nice way to focus on something tactile and rewarding.

find cosy productivity. when I don’t feel like talking to people, I stay home and study or work on small projects. being cosy but productive is satisfying and keeps my mind busy.

keep track of your meals. I lose my appetite when I’m feeling down, so setting reminders to eat something makes a big difference.

sleep, sleep, sleep. honestly, sleep fixes more than you’d think. Give yourself permission to rest.

be gentle with yourself, and remember, it’s okay to take things one tiny step at a time. you’re doing your best, and that’s more than enough. <3

my insta -> @ malusokay

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butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway · 2 days ago

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I am not EVERY autistic person so this probably won't be a total coverage approach, but here's what I have learned:

People like to feel that you pay attention to and remember little but important things about them. And when someone is "small-talking" with you, it is often because they either want to offer you some of that info about themselves, or they want to pearn it about you so they can "return the effort". I think of it a bit like call and response with my cats! They don't understand me, and I don't understand them, but when I walk into the kitchen each morning, Lup runs towards me excitedly making her tiny little squeaks and trills. That's kitty small-talk! Many words of all varieties just say "I love you! I missed you! I'm happy to be here with you today!"

So I answer her! Sometimes I mimic her little sounds, and other times I pretend we're gossiping like church ladies (*gasp* NO, you're KIDDING, he said THAT?? What a scandal!") But whichever I do Lup gets excited and continues her little "conversation" with me.

People are harder. I had to really take time and practice different ways of responding before I found appropriate "call and response" for small talk, but I found that there are genuinely more options than you'd think. And the same thing happened! As I learned how to "call and respond" to small talk, I found that people would excitedly approach me to have it, and gradually we got to know each other enough that the "calls" coming from both sides got less general, more tailored to our personal preferences and interests, and I didn't have to small talk as much (but when I did it wasn't as scary either)

This isn't just my personal theory either! A fair amount of research in interpersonal/social in-group dynamics suggests that "bids for attention" like small talk function in this way of call-and-response intimacy/connection building. I have found that a LOT of social etiquette gets less scary to navigate when I at least understand the function of it. It also gave me some understsnding of why people might be hurt when I visibly don't WANT to "respond" to a "call" they've made: I'm the same way about my "calls" I just use different ones! The way I feel when I ask someone "would you want to hang out with me in the kitchen while I make lunch?" (Sad, a little anxious or vulnerable, maybe hurt if they've said no to a LOT of recent calls, etc) is the same way others feel when I decline theirs! That doesn't change if it was MISSED rather than DECLINED, but it can be repaired! Ao another thing I've taken to doing is naming for people the calls I have learned I'm most likely to miss. I know I have a hard time understanding/recognizing small talk as a call to attention, so I let people know that! And generally the people I connect best with are the ones who notice I missed a call and offer me an explicit/direct opportunity to reject it before internalizing what I've done as a rejection. This isn't really an option for everyone! And while I'm always delighted when someone is compatible with me in that way, I don't get upset if they're not, and work to not take it personally as something I'm doing wrong either.

Anyway, this got rambly at the end there, but the point is, most social interactions have a FUNCTION and while being autistic frequently means that we struggle to learn and interact in these systems as they currently exist, but that doesn't necessarily mean that we don't also depend on those functions. I think it can be easy to forget that part of the "disabling" effects of social/communication symptoms in autism is how it cuts us off from systems of support, care, and human interconectedness (things we still NEED) and it can matter to our quality of life to be able to find compatible alternatives to fulfilling those functions even if the original mechanism (small talk in this case) doesn't suit us.

Being bad at small talk doesn't mean you don't need friends, but it will probably make it very hard to MAKE friends. And we each and all deserve to decide for ourselves what to do about that.

I'm trying to figure out a good way to say "you really should actually learn the basics of small talk" with sounding like I'm biased against autistic people.

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redflagshipwriter · 2 days ago

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SNITCHES THE CAT SEQUEL pt1 and masterpost

Part Two/Part Three/ Part Four/ Part Five

Part One

“This you?”

Danny pushed the newspaper down without looking at it, revealing Sam’s shitty grin. “That lost cat is not me, no.” He rolled his eyes. They had been showing him lost pet ads ever since he got back from Gotham. “Isn’t that joke getting old, guys?” He kicked his way further into a slouch in the booth as Tucker came back with refilled drinks.

Tucker laughed, and then there was a silence. “Danny? Are you sure this isn’t you, man?” He sounded uncertain.

He felt his jaw twitch and he had to tell his friend off. “Is it that funny that there’s a sad kid out there? Honestly, guys-” Danny opened his eyes fully to roll them and then saw the lost pet ad being brandished in his face. He blinked at it. His brain did a full reboot and he reached out to take the paper.

It looked like him, sleeping on the cushion in the batcave. Had they gotten that photo from the security footage? “It’s me.” His voice came out way too high.

Danny pulled the paper over in disbelief and realized that it was a two page ad. “Oh wow,” he said faintly. There he was, leaping across the kitchen. And there, that must have been taken by Damian when he fell asleep on the bed. There was a cat toy partially in the frame.

Sam’s snorting laughter cut off. “Uh.” She kicked him lightly under the table. “Is.. Is that little kid going to be okay?” She asked in a small voice. She sounded like she felt bad for poking fun.

Danny felt guilty. He stared at the evidence that Robin was missing his cat terribly and felt like the biggest jackass possible. “Should I go back?” he wondered. He squirmed, pulling a foot up onto the bench to perch on. “I mean… How long does a cat live? A few years?”

“Try about twenty,” Tucker said flatly. “I feel bad too, man, but you can’t defer admission that long.”

“Though Snitches was clearly not a little kitten, so you could really just give it a couple years,” Sam mused. Both boys stared at her. She blinked. “Not that I’m suggesting you do that!” She waved her hands at them. “The longer you stay with him, the harder he’s going to take it when his pet ‘dies’,” she said with finger quotes. “You did the right thing by leaving as soon as you could.”

“Maybe we could answer it, do a photoshoot, tell him that Danny was your cat or something and he’s come home,” Tucker mused. “He’d be sad that he couldn’t have the cat, but surely it would be better than worrying the cat died, right?”

“What are you losers talking about?” Star said, giving their booth a wide berth. “You’re not hurting cats now, are you, weirdos?” She eyed them like they were gross. “It would figure.”

“Fuck off,” Sam said pleasantly. All three of them gave Star a rude gesture in unison, just like they had practiced. “That shit’s uncalled for.”

Star sniffled and turned away on her heel, cheer skirt flouncing behind her. A few moments later she clearly reached her table because the sounds of popular kid conversation got a lot louder.

“She should be a reporter,” Sam said darkly. “I would love for her to get sued for slander.” She snapped open her clutch and began applying even more black eyeliner, as if that would differentiate her from the other girls in the restaurant.

Tucker groaned and pulled his hat down over his eyes in despair. “That’s gonna be a bad rumor,” he complained.

Danny couldn’t find it in him to care as much as he usually would. He was still stuck on the fact that Damian had put an ad in the Illinois Times. “Do you think he realized that Snitches got on a highway bus to Illinois?” he hissed, now aware that other people might be listening in. “How would he know that?”

Sam frowned. Tucker lifted his head and pulled out his phone to search. “That’s a good question,” he said to himself. He hit buttons rapidly. “Uh, same ad is in…” He trailed off. “Hold up, hold up, lemme search this backwards…” Whatever he saw had him raise his eyebrows high, look at Danny in disbelief, and then shake his head slightly. “You must be a really good cat. I'm kind of jealous.”

“What?” Danny hissed. “Just tell me.”

“Hey, hey, paws off.” Tucker moved his device further away. “Uh, this poor kid- well.” He paused. “Poor is the wrong word. He’s put ads in newspapers all the way up to Ontario and down to… Well, in Mexico at least.”

Danny and Sam stared at him in disbelief. “You’re fucking with us,” Sam said after a long moment.

Tucker silently shook his head. “There’s a nationwide Greg’s list ad,” he said grimly. “20 dollars an hour to print and staple missing cat photos to telephone poles. And a private detective’s agency on the case, asking for witnesses to come forward.”

Danny put his head in his hands. “I have to go back,” he said, haunted by the responsibility. “I can’t let him be this sad.”

“Danny, no.” Tucker said. Sam nodded her agreement.

“…Yeah, that’s crazy,” he said unconvincingly. He gave a fake laugh. “He’ll get over it.” Danny stared into his drink, watching bubbles. Robin was not going to get over it. That kid loved hard.

“I could use 20 dollars an hour,” Tucker said in a thoughtful tone.

“No,” Sam said flatly.

Tucker shrugged, smiling slightly. “I wonder how much I’d get for bringing you back.” He shrugged theatrically. “You could send me to college, man! Don’t you want me to go to college?”

“No…” Danny said weakly. “I… Is that fraud?” Still. Money would be nice.

“Guys, no.” Sam knocked them both in the head with the pile of napkins. “You can’t do that to this little kid. He’s clearly not well.”

“Exactly,” Tucker argued passionately. “Imagine how happy he would be to get his cat back! We could reunite him with his pet!”

It was tempting. He felt, like, so bad about how sad Robin was. The little guy had been so proud of his pet. Danny could spare a few years to make a little kid happy, right? It was kind of greedy otherwise.

Danny stared at the bubbles in his drink again, really thinking it over. “I think I would have to fight crime with him,” he said dully. “That’s a minus.”

“Danny?” Sam rapped the table with her fingers. He looked up to see her pointed eyebrow raise. “What are you talking about?”

He hunched his shoulders up. “Nothing, nothing,” he lied hastily. He forgot they didn’t know. He couldn’t dox someone’s crime fighting identity, though, it would be really unfair.

“You could buy me a house,” Tucker wheedled. Sam hit him.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #snitches the cat au

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velarisdusk · 1 day ago

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No Room for Error

Azriel x Reader

word count: 1.5k content: [ explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV, az does not pull out (as is typical with my fics lmao), hate sex, explicit language ] summary: Your heated argument with Azriel during a mission turns into an unexpected, yet not first-time, encounter in a broom closet. author's note: AZ AND Y/N SPIES AZ AND Y/N SPIES AAAAAA i've been wanting to write this one for a while, i'm happy it's finally in existence somewhere outside of my brain and writing drive lol ✦ . Masterlist . ✦

“You really couldn’t wait to make your move, could you?” you snap, frustration leaking into your voice as you shift again, the small space feeling tighter by the second. “We’ve been plotting this mission for months, Azriel.”

“I’m getting the job done, aren’t I?” His tone is dismissive, the usual bite to it harsher. “Maybe if you focused less on talking and more on following orders, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Following orders?” You scoff, pressing back against him involuntarily, even though you’re not sure if you want more space or less. “Maybe you’d actually listen to me if you stopped thinking you know everything.”

“I do know everything,” he growls in your ear, a dark edge to his words that makes something inside you tighten. “But you’re too busy trying to prove me wrong to realize it.”

“I’m not trying to prove you wrong,” you retort, voice sharp as you shift against him again. “You’re just impossible.”

His breath huffs against your skin. “And yet, here we are,” he murmurs, tone low, barely hiding the edge of amusement. “You’re not exactly walking away.”

“This is ridiculous,” you mutter, shifting uncomfortably in the cramped space. “I should’ve completed twice as many missions as you by now. This was supposed to be my assignment, not yours.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Azriel snaps, his voice tight with annoyance, the tension between you both palpable. “Maybe if you didn’t rush into things all the time, you’d actually finish your missions instead of barely scraping by.”

“I don’t need you to tell me how to do my job,” you retort, clenching your teeth as the walls feel like they’re closing in. “I’m just fine without your help, Shadowsinger.” You spit out the title like it’s venom, though the words feel hollow as soon as they leave your mouth. The competition between you two was fierce—always had been.

“It’s not about help,” Azriel mutters, shifting just enough that you feel his presence even closer. “It’s about keeping up. You always think you can do everything on your own, but in the end, you just screw it up. It’s like you're trying to outdo me for the sake of it.”

“Outdo you?” You laugh bitterly, barely able to move without pressing into him. “I’ve been outdoing you for months, Azriel. You’re just too arrogant to see it.”

His laugh is low and dark. “If you were outdoing me, we wouldn’t be stuck in this closet right now, would we?”

“Oh, you think this is my fault?” You almost scoff, your words dripping with irritation, but the heat between you is undeniable now, thick with more than just frustration. “Maybe if you didn’t play the lone wolf every damn time, we wouldn’t be here.”

“I didn’t play ‘lone wolf,’” he growls. “You’re just too proud to accept I’m better at this than you.”

Your hand moves, fumbling to adjust—or maybe to steady yourself—and the shift in position has Azriel’s breath catching. The sound sends a rush of heat through you, though you’re still unwilling to admit it aloud.

“Better than me?” you ask, voice dropping dangerously low, your lips curling into a sharp, humorless smile. “That’s rich, coming from someone who’s been riding my coattails for months. Admit it, Azriel, you can’t stand that I’m winning.”

His hand tightens at your waist, and his next words are spoken with deliberate, biting calm. “Winning? You’re delusional. You’ve never beaten me, and you never will.”

Your lips part for another retort, but the words die on your tongue, the sound morphing into a moan as he moves. The shift in position presses him against you in a way that makes your breath hitch, his body hitting that spot deep inside you.

A faint sound of footsteps outside the closet snaps you back to reality. You barely have time to register it before Azriel’s hand is covering your mouth, his fingers warm and firm against your lips, stifling any sound you might make. His other hand grips your hip harder, pulling you even closer as he continues to thrust into you, each movement making you feel him deeper, the rhythm brutal and unforgiving.

“Do you want them to hear you?” he growls low in your ear, his voice dripping with dark amusement. “Want to fuck up the mission? Want to give us away?” His voice is tight with barely-contained pleasure, his breath hot against your neck. “You better keep quiet, sweetheart. We can’t afford mistakes.”

You can feel the cold leather of your pants bunched up at your thighs, the heat of his body pressing against you, the sensation of him pushing against you with every thrust, sending jolts of pleasure that make it even harder to keep silent. Your body trembles beneath him, every instinct screaming for release, but the fear of getting caught only makes the tension sharper.

A desperate whine escapes from your throat, muffled by his hand, and you feel him pause. The sound of footsteps somewhere outside the closet slows, a beat of silence hanging heavy in the air. His breath hitches slightly, but his grip moves up to your waist, and then, in one fluid motion, he presses his hips harder against you.

“Am I going to have to tell Rhys that you cost us months of work?” His words are a dark tease, but the edge of warning lingers in his voice. He pulls back, only to thrust forward again, his hips grinding into yours with slow, powerful force, each movement designed to make you feel every inch of him, to make sure you can’t forget for a second what’s happening. “Think about that, sweetheart. All of this… for nothing.”

Your breath catches as he shifts again, his rhythm turning into something deeper, more intense. The tight space only heightens the feeling of him—every inch of his body pressed against yours, making it impossible to escape the raw heat between you. He grinds into you again, his control slipping as the pressure mounts, but his voice stays dangerously low.

The footsteps outside fade, growing softer as they move away from the door. Azriel’s grip loosens slightly, and he pulls his hand from your mouth, his breath ragged against your skin. You can’t hold back anymore.

“Please, Azriel, don’t stop, I need it,” you whine, the words slipping out before you can stop them, desperate for more.

His response is immediate, cold, and calculating. “You don’t need anything. You want it.” His tone is firm, void of any tenderness. “You always want more, don’t you?”

Before you can answer, he shifts again, thrusting into you with a deep, controlled force that makes your body seize in response. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, using the grip to pull you onto him again and again.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, voice low but commanding, “do you always beg like this? Is this how you get Rhys to give you assignments I’m the obvious choice for? Or am I the only one who gets to see this side of you?”

Your heart races, his words swallowing you whole. But you’re beyond caring now, beyond anything but the feeling of him inside you. His hips grind into you with a brutal, possessive rhythm, and you can’t help but let out a moan, your back arching as you press against the wall. You can feel the pressure building, every part of you straining for release, but his control is absolute, keeping you on the edge, making you ache with every moment. You know you can’t hold back much longer.

With a final, deep thrust, he shudders, his body tightening as he finishes inside you. His breath is heavy, ragged against your neck, and he pauses, just for a moment, as if to savor the feeling of you beneath him.

Azriel pulls out slowly, his movements deliberate, and you feel a brief emptiness where he was. Without a word, he tucks himself back into his pants with calm efficiency, as if there were nothing out of the ordinary.

“Pull your pants up,” he says, his tone cool, detached. There’s no hint of the intensity from moments ago, as if he can shut it off in an instant.

You blink, the haze of pleasure clouding your mind as you slowly process his words. What? You’re still trying to make sense of everything when he pulls back as far as the cramped broom closet allows, glancing at you with that unreadable expression.

“We’ve got shit to do,” he shrugs, voice colder now, businesslike. “Maybe I’ll stop by your room tonight.” There’s a dangerous flicker in his eyes as he says it, but it’s gone before you can even react.

He opens the closet door and steps out, holding a hand out to you. You hesitate for a moment, still reeling, but you take his hand, letting him pull you back out into the hall.

#acotar #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x reader smut #acotar fanfic #acotar smut #azriel smut #acotar reader insert

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ditzydoe444 · 1 day ago

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Agegap jason todd with innocent whiny reader. Rough sex pls, like disgustingly rough. also obsessed/PERVY Jason todd

MDNI 18+

a/n: the mention of the cuffing was from smth i saw on x but i don’t remember the link

jason todd was significantly older than you, the big muscular brooding mechanic working at the small town’s garage. you grew up in an extremely sheltered environment, but there was just something about being around and touched by a man who was older and more experienced that did something to you.

“didn’t know a girl as prim and proper as you wanted to get fucked this badly,” jason grunted as he thrusted deep inside you. you knew jason had no business fucking you like an animal in heat, but the moment he caught you pathetically humping your pillow you couldn’t help but to beg him to fuck you.

“jacey your so big,” you whined as you gripped onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he had you in a mating press.

he had cuffed your wrists to your ankles with some sort of hand cuffs, making you spread your legs even wider, and not being able to close them.

“you can take it big girl, you were so god damn horny when i caught you humping your pillow i’m pretty sure you’ll be fine.” he grunted as he watched his fat cock disappear into your pink swollen folds.

“i knew this pussy would be good to me,” he groaned at the sight of the small bulge on your stomach, a visible reminder of the size difference between you two and how deep he was in.

jason’s gaze dropped to the bulge on your tummy, just another visual reminder of the size difference between the two of you.

“j-jacey ‘m gonna come!” you moaned at the sudden pressure on your lower stomach from him. you always came so god damn easily, just a few pathetic humps and you were coming with tears down your face.

“coming so quickly? i’ve barely fucked you yet sweet thing.”

you couldn’t even respond, your eyes were shut tightly as you bit your lip from screaming just from the sensation of him hitting so damn deep.

jason’s voice lowered, “look at me sweetheart,” his tone was sharp, sign that he wasn’t going to ask for a second time.

but you were so far gone you couldn’t even understand what he said, making pathetic noises ‘n-nngh’ and ‘m-mmph!’

“sweetheart, open your eyes,” he said once again.

you felt his hand grab your chin after you ignored his comment, making your eyes widen. “keep your damn eyes on me ok? or i’m going to edge you for the whole fucking night.”

you nodded, tears welling up in your eyes from how hard he was going.

“after you come on my cock i’m going to fuck your mouth so you can taste your cum, that alright with you sweetheart?”

“yes jay” you whined his hand slipped from your chin to your neck, choking you.

jason had dreamt about this for the longest time, fucking his neighbour that was far too young for him and too innocent. he has done the filthiest things to you, secretly talking your panties and jerking off to them, and taking your clothes just to smell them.

you were a god damn mess, tears running down your cheeks, hair all messy and cheeks all flushed.

“ ‘m close jacey,” you squirmed as his thumb rubbed your swollen clit harshly, abusing it.

your eyes widened from the sensation you knew all too well, you were going to squirt if he continued. “stop! ‘m gonna make a mess!” as you tried to swat his thumb away from your clit, only to have him slap it and push down on it roughly making you wince and whine even more.

“m-mmph!”

“don’t ya dare fucking push me away, you make a mess by squiring you make a damn mess, own up to it.”

the moment jason squeezed your stomach you came, hard.

you were a squirting mess.

“didn’t know you were a squirter sweetheart,” jason chuckled as he pulled his cock out of your cunt, it covered in your cum.

“gonna let me fuck your mouth?” his eyes glued to your pink swollen lips, the pink sparkly gloss you usually wore smeared.

you nodded eagerly, you’ve always had your secret thoughts about how you would suck him off seeing how he would man spread whilst working and just having you on your knees.

“yes jacey.”

as jason repositioned himself, allowing him to find the perfect angle to fuck your mouth as he made you kneel on the edge of the bed whilst he stood, he pushed his thumb in between your lips. the cuffs that were on you were quickly discarded and thrown to the pile hjs clothes on the floor.

“open.”

you complied, not willing to push jason more than you already have, the moment you parted your lips one of his hands gripped your chin before he spat in your mouth.

“now spit on my cock sweetheart.”

jason’s hands held up your hair, making a makeshift pony tail as you spat on his cock, before bringing his tip to your mouth.

you wasted no second before you took him in, your mouth stretched so damn wide you were convinced your jaw was going to lock.

jason thrusted into your mouth, making you gag as he hits the back of your throat. “taste your own cum hm sweetheart?” he cooed as he watched your tears stream down your face.

you hummed, the vibrations going up his length as he held onto your head tightly as he fucked your mouth like it was your cunt.

“aren’t ya the sweetest thing hm? letting me fuck your mouth.”

jason has been fantasising about this for the longest nights, and now he finally had you on your knees taking his cock made him feel like a teenage boy having sex for the first time and coming so damn easily.

you were so eager to please him, taking him fully to the point where your nose brushed against his pubes and how your fingers were stuffed up your cunt at the same time.

it wasn’t long before came, filling your mouth with his hot salty cum. though, it didn’t stop him, he continued to thrust into your mouth making you gag and have his cum dribble down your chin.

“fuck, let me come on your pretty face too yeah?” he hissed as he pulled his cock our, jerking it a few times before coming all over your face.

“you look so good with it all over your pretty little face sweetheart,” he cooed softly as his hand gently caressed your chin, “let me do it a second time?”

#jason todd #ch: jason #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd smut #dc smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood smut #red hood x reader

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bumblebeerror · 3 days ago

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Quite literally yes, tumblr is a better user experience in general for queer users than most sites.

That’s mostly because Tumblr users have adapted to the site and how small the staff is well known to be. We spread PSAs about how to spot and get rid of bots by reporting them for spam. We tell new users from big waves up front how the site works. If we’re upset with something, we know we can take it up directly with the staff tumblr page, even if they can’t answer us immediately. Overall, the culture of this site is based on practicality and understanding the limitations of the staff.

The only other thing that makes the site more friendly to queer, disabled, poc, etc folks is the infection-style post sharing. Sure, if you get popular or your post is popular your post might escape containment - but for most users most of the time, their notes come directly from followers and their followers, people who asked to be there, or people scrolling the same tag it’s posted in. There’s no algorithm besides the almost completely unused ‘for you’ section trying to keep users engaged with posts by boosting it outside their circle artificially. Which closes down a lot of opportunities for some twat to stumble across your post and decide to send you hate. It’s just less likely that your post will be seen by people who hate your existence, because it’s less likely to be seen outside your personal circle.

But again - that infection style post sharing and a lack of a for you page “culture” weren’t actually intended to do that. That was just a happy accident, the latter leftover from when the site literally didn’t have a for you page.

Tumblr’s CEO isn’t making money off us. He made it very clear that if you hurt his precious feelings he has no issue banning you for facetiously threatening to kill him with an exploding car covered in hammers on the facetiously threatening to kill you with an exploding car covered in hammers site. He has no real interest in the culture Tumblr users have created or why we prefer the site, or, clearly, even in doing things that would repair the site’s code or improve the user experience and likely boost eyes on it’s ads - if he could shift us fully to a different site that makes money, he would.

And furthermore, do I HAVE to refer you to the ancient texts? Whether it’s the people on this site or the leadership of it, this site has never once been a “bastion of reason”. It has been a hellsite. You used to have to use xkit just to blacklist tags. And THEN tumblr users bullied the guy who coded xkit off the fucking site, BEFORE a built in blacklist existed by default. Mobile used to be absolutely rawdogging your dashboard.

Like yes, this is my emotional support hellsite. But a Bastion of Reason this place is NOT.

I feel like folks talking like Tumblr is the last bastion of reason on the Internet are forgetting that the owner of Tumblr is demonstrably cut from the same cloth as Zuckerberg and Musk. Tumblr's moderation polices aren't less bigoted, they're just less competently implemented.

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st7rnioioss · 2 days ago

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۶ৎ BUNNY!READER x SHY!MATT

when shy!matt got bunny!reader a pair of panties as a joke.. except it's not really anymore (p!link)

˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... dry jumping, groping, kissing, titty sucking, grinding, pet names (bunny, bun, baby)

it was only meant as a joke.. matt had this adorable habit of calling you ‘bunny’ rather than the usual nicknames couples came up with—babe, sweetheart, love, baby, you name it.

so when he saw those white panties with a bunny tail on the back when he was out shopping with you for halloween? he had to get them.. maybe order them online.

but today was far from halloween, it wasn’t even gonna be halloween for months, and he’d forgotten completely about them while sitting by his desk..

well, you certainly hadn’t. a couple weeks ago you stumbled across them, lying in the very back of matt’s closet when looking for a shirt. for a second, you were confused, flustered even. why would he have those? what were they for? did you forget about them?

“matt, what are these?” you’d quietly asked when you returned to him sitting by the counter in the kitchen, shyly holding the pair up in front of him while looking up at him with almost wide eyes.

oh my god. he wanted to bury himself, forgotten all about the almost naughty piece of clothing—naughty if taken in the wrong context of the silly pet name.

“o-oh i just.. those were meant for halloween last year, i-it wasn’t anything serious.. yeah, forget about it..” he mumbled awkwardly, immediately flushing a deep red at the sight of you standing there, the fabric pinched between your fingers, showing off the fluffy tail.

after that awkward interaction, you thought why not just keep them? it was a little, funny inside joke, nothing more than that.. right?

well, they were supposed to just be kept as a joke and left in the back of your drawer, kept closed and hidden away, but honestly? you thought it was a little too funny not to be used, even to be tried on.

hence why you strutted your way into your room where matt was, wearing only the pretty panties with a fluffy pom-pom looking tail on your lower back, and a white lace tank top to go along with the theme.

“ta-daaa,” you smiled, spreading your arms to show off, spinning in a circle for him to show the whole little thing off.

matt was struck when he looked up from his computer. his eyes went wide, his cheeks growing hot and warm, all blood rushing straight from his face to his dick. honestly, he was suppressing a whimper at the sight alone, his eyes tracing over your body while he felt his cock harden under his palm.

“o-oh my god,” he whispered, going completely bashful at the sight of your pretty little self, strutting and showing off for him.

your own face went a little pink. sure, you and matt were intimate, but it never really included stuff like this. it wasn’t anything that came to mind since you both were way too timid to suggest it.

“do you like it?” you asked with a soft smile, giving him another twirl, your hair bouncing while sitting perfectly and neat atop of your shoulders.

to say he liked it was an understatement. of course he liked it, his cock was obviously tenting in his pants, having to suppress a groan from your adorable little costume-like outfit.. if you could even call it that.

he swallowed his nerves, giving you an awkward but firm nod, “y-yeah.. it’s cute bunny,” his voice was small and soft, his eyes drifting back to yours, his skin prickling.

quickly, you bounced closer to him, carefully but confidently making your way into his lap, throwing a leg over his hips. he had no clue what to do, not in this situation. not when you looked that cute, his hands awkwardly flailing over your waist.

“touch me- please baby,” you whispered, slowly wrapping your arms around the back of his neck while settling in his lap, his erection poking against your inner thighs.

your words made a shiver run down his spine, brushing his fingers over the soft skin under your top, running his hands down your sides and hips. he looked up at you, watching as you took your bottom lip between your teeth, a smile still evident on your lips.

matt’s lips were halfway parted, allowing him to let out a little gasp when you unintentionally brushed your thigh over his cock, your hands reaching to cup his jaw in your hands.

he leaned in, brushing his lips over yours until he more firmly pressed against you, his hands getting a good grip on your hips. you cradled his face in your hands to pull him closer, both your eyes fluttered shut and noses occasionally brushing against the others, while he slowly started to guide your hips over his crotch.

you gasped into the kiss, the sudden control matt took making your stomach erupt wildly with butterflies. the gasp you let out allowed matt to drag his tongue across your lower lip, seeking entrance—which he was granted immediately.

he ran his tongue across yours, careful as if to savor the moment, his wet muscle entangling with yours.

matt shuddered beneath you, his head still spinning from the sight of you in those panties he’s bought as a silly joke. he’d honestly never really expect to see you in them, let alone have you in his lap like this, looking so cute.

carefully, he guided you back and forth, his slightly trembling hands slipping from your hips down the sides of your thighs, before reaching your ass.

you continued to roll your hips, your already wet pussy dragging perfectly across his the hard bulge beneath you, making you whine into the kiss. your skin was hot, your face pink and red from his fingers gripping the plush skin of your ass, kneading the skin under his hands.

“m-matt..” you whined when you pulled back from his glistening lips, looking down at him to meet his eyes, guiding you almost erratically but precisely on top of him.

he hummed in response, before attaching his lips to your jaw, pressing a soft peck that left a wet mark on your skin, before continuing down your neck, “so.. so cute,”

you let out a sigh of pleasure, your hands going to twirl his hair between your digits, pushing him closer to you.

he couldn’t stop himself from leaving a small mark on your skin, admiring the sight for just a second, before moving on to leave a couple more.. or just a few. he couldn’t wait for those red spots to turn a deeper purple tomorrow, how he would trace them in the soft morning light.

“y’look.. so pretty bun,” his words were muffled against your skin, his fingertips digging into your lush skin, leaving a red mark behind from his harsh squeezing and groping.

his lips continued sucking on your flesh, eventually reaching your collarbone, letting a breathy moan slip here and there. matt’s touching and kissing causing you to turn completely nervous and baffled almost. he was usually too shy to even touch you when making out.

“f-fuck, matt-“ you whimpered, his hands kneading your bottom repeatedly causing your needy clit to rub deliciously against the fabric of the panties, on top of his rock-hard erection.

the consistent rubbing and grinding of your wet pussy left a wet patch on his sweatpants, but neither of you cared too much about that right now to notice, too busy enveloped in each other.

it wasn’t long before his lips met the fabric of your top, letting one of his hands sneak to the strap.

“c-can i? it’s in the way,” he husked, his voice soft like lace.

you could only nod in response before his fingers dragged the strap of your top down your shoulder, the other one following. deliberately, he tugged the fabric down your front, exposing your chest to him. all while doing this, you gazed down at him, too lost in the bliss to say or do anything.

slowly, he pressed a few kisses to the side of your breast, making your breath hitch for a moment, your teeth nibbling on your lip. he then attached his lips to your hardening nipple, kissing and swirling his tongue around the bud, emitting a moan from you.

“o-oh god,” you whined, your core only aching even more from the pleasure sent straight through your body, a pool of heat forming in your lower back.

matt then slowly resumed your movements on top of him, both his hands returning to your ass to get a firm grasp, all while he tried to distribute equal kisses and lick to both of your exposed tits.

you could already feel the tension in your lower tummy increase, your clit aching and swollen, grinding almost pathetically on top of him to relieve the ache. matt was on the same page, his cock throbbing from the restraint of his boxers and sweatpants—but yet that wasn’t enough to eliminate any pleasure he was receiving.

matt was nibbling and sucking carefully but precisely on your tits, his lips leaving behind a trail of small, red marks across your sensitive skin, occasionally swirling his tongue around your nipple. your back was arched, fingers tangled in his hair to press him closer, and eyebrows knitted up in pleasure.

“i-i think i’m gonna.. gonna come,” your voice was high pitched and whiny, letting matt’s guiding take over your movements completely, allowing him to take control, while he pulled back from your chest to look up at you.

with his head out of the way, you could have a look at the marks scattered across your tits and the valley of them, your face flushing and skin heating up with need. the sight alone was enough to make you whimper.

“m-me too.. i-“ he nodded weakly in response with a whimper, his eyes squeezing shut in pleasure.

his muscles tightened when he felt himself inch closer and closer to his release, already feeling his cock twitch in his pants, yet he wanted you to be pushed over the edge first.

and to his luck, it wasn’t long before your fingers tightened their grip on his hair, an almost desperate moan of his name emitted from your parted lips, until you let go completely, the tension in your tummy snapping.

matt’s continuous guiding of your body caused your already drooling pussy to swipe across his pants, leaving a wet spot on the fabric, soaking through the thin lace of the panties.

matt groaned at the sight, accidentally jerking his hips up to meet yours, almost choking on a moan of your name. a second later, the tip of his already leaking cock spurted hot ropes of his seed into his boxers, leaving a wet mark right next to the one you left.

eventually you both looked at each other, your faces flushed and hot, eyes wide, and heart racing. matt was the first one to break a smile, chuckling lightly at the sight of your eyes, which you returned, giggling softly.

“i- well..” he mumbled shyly, almost nervous while the icky feeling of his cum smearing against the fabric of his boxers, making him grimace.

you did the same, the feeling of your slick panties making you wince, giggling along with the look of matt’s face.

his fingers then reached for the fabric of your tank top, helping you get the straps back up to sit on your shoulders like before, but not without giving your bruised and marked tits a final glance.

“we should- we should probably clean up..” matt muttered, back to running his flat palms over the skin of your ass, now red and bruised, his touch much more gentle than it was a moment ago.

you blinked, staring at him with a gaze full of love, nodding along with his quiet words. “do.. do you wanna shower with me?” you suggested, taking his fingers between yours.

matt nodded slowly before he got to think, watching as you went to stand up with an almost proud smile, the little tail of your panties wiggling when you turned around to head for the bathroom.

“you don’t.. think we should keep those?” he smiled while following right behind you, hand in hand, all while giving the tail a gentle tug, causing you to yelp when the elastic band snapped back onto your skin.

more shy!matt x bunny!reader here

𝜗𝜚˚࿔notes: imagine they FUCKED in the shower🔥

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns @sierrraaaaxz @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @sophand4n4 @sturnihoelooo @unknvhx @chrisslut04 @sturniolossss @slvtf0rchr1s @blahbel668 @starkeysturniolo @miolos @user1smvtysturniolo @lizzyzzn @sturnslutz @decimatedxdreams @chrissturnioloswife88 @sturn777 @sturniolonationsblog @frankoceanfanpage @priscillaog @courta13 @sweetrelieef @loverboysturn @sturns-mermaid @cutseylady @sofieeeeex @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @mattsturnii @conspiracy-ash

#🐇་༘࿐ works #⌗⋆. shy!matt x bunny!reader ⋆. 𐙚 ˚#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt stuniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut

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