#especially in clothes i know they’ll never wear

[luminarytex]

these p0rn bots keep following me sigh

anyways it’s the boober ^_^

[lemonlover1110]

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀…

Sukuna

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Summary: Sukuna comes to terms with the idea of having a daughter with you.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, double penetration, creampie, pregnancy, slightly ooc but still a misogynist, fluff at the end

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“What the hell are you doing?” Sukuna squints his eyes, looking down at you as you knit something for your baby girl. There’s no way of actually knowing the sex of your baby, but something tells you that you’re expecting a daughter. Sukuna negates the thought, assuring you that you’re carrying a son. He can’t possibly have a daughter, he’s always saying something along those lines. 

“Just making a little something for our child.” You inform him, and Sukuna frowns. Your child is not going to wear something so pink because they’ll be a boy, Sukuna is sure of it. He snatches the cloth out of your hand and tosses it.

“Why pink? Are you saying we’re having a girl?” Sukuna questions, and you cross your arms. You look up at your husband, mad that he's tossed your hard work to the side. 

“You have pink hair, Suku… Are you a girl?” You cock your eyebrow, and he’s not amused. He crosses both pairs of arms, rolling his eyes. Maybe he shouldn’t associate colors with a certain gender because you are right, he does have pink hair… But he also knows that you’re making a pink blanket because you think you’re having a girl.

“Make a blue one.” He orders, and you glare at him. You shake your head in response, you’re not making a blue one. He grits his teeth, grabbing the blanket that he just tossed to the side and shredding your hard work to pieces. 

“Keep an eye open tonight, because when you least expect it, I’ll strangle you.” You warn him, and you’re dead serious. It’s clear that you’re carrying his child, you’ve never threatened to kill him before. 

“If you even come close to it, I think I’ll fall more in love with you.” He chuckles, walking away, leaving you alone with your own anger. You let out a yell, cursing at him because the twinge of fear that you had for him completely faded a couple of months ago. 

He holds no threat to you anymore. Sukuna wouldn’t have done anything to you anyway, since he hates that he loves you so dearly, but the realization that you carry his child and he’ll do no harm to you really gives you much more power and comfort. Sukuna finds humor in a very nonthreatening person, threatening to do something to him; especially when he knows that you can barely lift yourself up anymore.

He knows that you won’t even come close to succeeding in hurting him, and he laughs in amusement at the mere thought. But you’ll get him back, you know you will.

“I thought we were going to spend the day together?” Sukuna asks as he watches you get ready to go out. You never invited him anywhere, so he was shocked to hear that you weren’t at home. He isn’t well liked in public, there’s just something about being huge, having four arms and being extremely scary that people don’t like. Sukuna can kill anyone without a second thought. 

“I thought so too before someone ruined the blanket that I was making for my daughter… So I had to get the materials to make it again.” You tell him, and Sukuna nearly gasps when you drop the d word. You’ve always refused to call the baby your daughter since you have no idea what the sex is, but it seems like you use it to piss him off. You click your tongue when you notice his reaction, “What? You’re so overdramatic. You’ve killed for fuck’s sake, why is saying daughter so scary to you.”

“Because we’re having a son!” He yells, getting defensive about it. You don’t understand why he gets upset at the mere suggestion that he’s having a daughter. Before you got pregnant, Sukuna never seemed to care about the gender of a hypothetical baby– Although you shouldn’t be shocked since your husband isn’t exactly the most fair when it comes to different sexes… Sukuna is a misogynist, that’s what you’re trying to get at. He treats all humans with the same disdain, but particularly women. It seems that you’ve forgotten because he doesn’t treat you the same way he treats everyone else.

“Sukuna, we’re having a daughter.” You reiterate, and you watch his eye twitch. You’re doing it to piss him off, he knows it, yet it’s working. “You wanted a baby, Sukuna. You knew there was no guarantee that you’d be having a son, but you still decided that you wanted one. You can’t cry about having a daughter.”

Sukuna takes a deep breath, surprisingly managing his anger well. He decides to leave the room, leaving you alone to do whatever the hell you want. You fuel his anger even more, yelling at him, “And don’t come back until you fix your attitude!”

You stare off into the distance, your hand resting on your bump. You begin to wonder what Sukuna will actually do, and you can’t do anything but hope that he’ll come around to the idea because you know Sukuna. He isn’t good whatsoever, he won’t hesitate to hurt her, even if she’s his own flesh and blood. You’re not sure you could stay by his side if he were to do anything, but you wouldn’t really have any other option either.

You decide to go to sleep, because thinking about it further won’t really help you in any way. You delude yourself, thinking that he’ll come around to the idea.

A large pair of arms wrap around you, waking you up from your slumber. Sukuna does it to try and be romantic, but he nearly suffocates you. You slap his arm, telling him, “Loosen the grip–”

He loosens his grip, which lets you know that he wasn’t trying to kill you. Thankfully. Sukuna would never do anything to harm you, but sometimes you swear you don’t know him much. It’s very rare when you get a heart to heart with Sukuna where he actually talks about him, he usually prefers to listen to listen, and to threaten anyone in the stories that offend you in the slightest.

“Can I say something without you getting mad?” You begin, still half asleep. Sukuna furrows his brows. Due to his lack of answer, you decide to speak, “You’re overreacting.”

“I just don’t know what I’d do with a daughter.” He confesses. He doesn’t know how he’d handle her, how to treat her fairly, how he would– He doesn’t know how he would do anything. He doesn’t know what being a woman entails so he won’t know how to teach her anything. He wants to teach her how to do everything. 

“Everything you’d do with a son.” You reply. You really doubt that your child will be raised to have great morals, so there’s no point in really raising them differently. “Sukuna, how will it be different?”

“How will it not be different?” He sounds offended. There’s nothing similar between men and women. Sukuna’s hands go to your bump, his hand caressing it. “But for my heir, I guess I can make an exception.”

“Is that your way of telling me that you won’t make a fuss over the possibility of having a daughter?” You ask him, and his silence gives you an answer. Yes, Sukuna is fine with it, as fine as he can be at least.

His hand goes under your nightgown, caressing your thighs. You feel Sukuna kiss the back of your neck, and you squeeze your thighs, his large hand stuck between them. The man rarely touches you nowadays, seeing you as fragile as ever. You don’t know about the sudden change, but you certainly don’t mind.

“What changed in you?” You ask him as his hand goes up to your panties. He pushes them to the side because last time he tore something of yours, you got too mad at him so he’d rather not risk it. His fingers run through your folds before going to your clit, and you bite your bottom lip due to pure excitement.

“Was thinking about how I’d be nothing without you.” He confesses, letting you know that he didn’t come to terms with having a daughter– Sukuna is a man that fears nothing, at least that’s what you thought up until now. He fears losing you. It’s your issue… You’ve never paid attention to the love in his eyes when he speaks to you or about you. Sometimes you don’t realize just how much you mean to him. “Then I remembered how gorgeous you look carrying our son.”

“If you say that again I’ll–” You begin but Sukuna is two steps ahead of you. He pushes two large fingers inside of you. You can’t help but moan, covering your mouth immediately. One of his hands pulls your hand away, even in the dark he knows what you do. After all, you’re not just getting to know him, but he’s getting to know you too.

“Did I tell you to be fucking quiet?” He asks through gritted teeth. You have to be quiet at other times, like when the baby gets here and you risk waking them up. Now, if any of the servants hear, that’s their fucking problem. “Be loud, my love. Remind everyone who you belong to.”

“They know.” You tell him, which is quickly cut off by a moan as his fingers move faster. You feel his thumb graze your asshole, teasing you before he pushes it in. “Suku–”

“You’re not going to be able to stay quiet.” He ends up laughing. You never do because he’s just too much for you to handle. He curves his fingers so they hit your sweet spot. You shut your eyes, quickly succumbing to pleasure. You’ve missed this feeling so much, and he refuses to give it to you.

Sukuna loves when you turn into putty by his touch. It takes practically nothing to work you up, and you begin to squeeze around him. He smirks, knowing that it takes nothing for you to be practically screaming his name. Sukuna speaks into your ear, “Already so excited for me? Do you want more?”

“I need more.” Your voice sounds so demanding and Sukuna laughs. Another hand goes under your nightgown, his fingers focusing on your clit. You loudly moan his name as it all gets too much for you to handle. 

“Is it too much?” He mocks you as your orgasm builds up, until you finally reach your peak, your legs shaking. Sukuna takes his fingers out, shoving the fingers that were in your cunt into your mouth, making you gag. 

Sukuna lights a candle, providing some light in the room. You sit up, getting on top of him, undoing his robe. Your body yearns for more, and he smirks since he knows it. You lean down, your lips going on his, your tongue entering his mouth and pressing against his own. When you pull away from the kiss, you mutter, “I’ve missed you.”

You raise yourself, aligning the cock on the top with your pussy before slowly pushing yourself down on it. You take a moment to adjust to him since it’s been a while since the last time you’ve fucked her. You begin to bounce on him, and Sukuna spits in his palm, grabbing the cock on the bottom and teasing your asshole with the tip.

Sukuna holds you down when he begins to push the other tip in your asshole. Even though you’re expecting a child together, you’re still loud when he fills both of your holes. It’s too much for you to handle at first, but throughout the time you get used to it.

“Tight little cunt–” He groans, and he never thought that he of all people would end up touch deprived. But then he got too scared to hurt you in any way when you knew you were expecting, so he stuck to… Nothing. To suppress his dirty thoughts. 

“Move.” You order, too tired to continue. Sukuna begins to move for you, thrusting slowly in and out of you. He continues at the pace you had set. 

“Is it good? You’re making a fucking mess.” He says as he picks up speed. You throw your head back, one hand going down to play with your clit as he thrusts in and out of you.

“It’s so fucking good–” You answer. You’ve been needing this every single fucking night, and you’re lucky to be receiving it now. He’s finally giving into your cravings. 

“You just love being filled up like a little slut, don’t you?” Sukuna’s hand goes up from your bump to your mouth, shoving two fingers into your mouth again. He feels the vibration of your moans through your tongue before you begin to twirl your tongue around his fingers. 

Sukuna loves the way you take in his cocks, smiling at you at how well you take him– Of course he wouldn’t tell you though. Your hands go to his chest, using it for support as well as subconsciously digging your nails into his skin. It stings for him, but he can’t help but love it.

Sukuna does you a favor, his fingers rubbing your clit. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, 

A second orgasm overtaking you. Sukuna feels you squeezing on both of his cocks, feeling himself get weak. 

“Suku–” You loudly moan as you reach your second orgasm. Sukuna mocks you for it.

“What? Can’t handle it?” He asks, your nails digging deeper into his skin. He’s losing control, his thrusts getting sloppy. It’s been so long since the last time he did this– And when he finishes, he fills both of your holes with so much cum, and you swear you’re in heaven because there is no better feeling than this. 

When he takes his cocks out, so much cum drips out of you. You end up falling on his chest, him wrapping a pair of large arms around you while another fixes your clothes. 

“This is a nice way to apologize for misbehaving.” You comment, and Sukuna scoffs.

“Who said I was apologizing?” Sukuna is frowning, and you lightly smack his face which pisses him off more. He holds your hands so you don’t try to do anything more with them.

“I’ll take it as an apology.” You tell him. Sukuna wants to laugh, but he manages to keep a poker face. He grabs you up by your hair, putting his lips on yours. 

“It was not an apology, woman. Shut your mouth.”

Bonus:

You swear that hell is freezing over because what the hell is the scene you’re witnessing. You’ve never seen Sukuna like this… You don’t think you are supposed to see him like this.

“Who’s a headstrong girl?” Sukuna is putting on a baby voice for fuck’s sake. For a daughter that he didn’t want. Your baby girl laughs, and he falls in love all over again. She’s just so fucking perfect– With her little eyes, her little nose, her little mouth, her four little arms, her soft pink hair. She’s everything to him.

“Do you need anything, Sukuna?” You approach them, but Sukuna pays little attention to you. He keeps looking down at his daughter who lays on your bed. She’s in need of a nap but Sukuna doesn’t like putting her to bed because she’s boring then.

“Yeah, how do I order another one of these?” He asks, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“Of what?” You respond, wondering what the hell he talks about.

“Another daughter.”

[astrow1zar6]

Astro Observations-36

I notice Pisces mercurys are always mispronouncing words. They will start telling a story and it’s like they forget how to say words so it comes out like gibberish or very mumbled. I think the neptunian energy has a lot to do with it. Anything Neptune touches it confuses.

Venus in the 5th house people flirt with anyone with a pulse. They constantly have new crushes. I notice it’s common for this placement to talk to multiple ppl at once or have multiple crushes. (Great rizz tho non the less).

Venus in Virgo/6th house people usually look way better without makeup.

Virgo and Scorpio risings tend to struggle with acne the most I’ve noticed.

On the other hand Libra/Cap risings tend to have the clearest skin I’ve ever seen

Virgo moons love giving advice that no one asked for. They really just want to help but it comes off as judgy most of the time.

Capricorn Venus’s either have the straightest teeth on earth or they are so jacked up you’d think they did meth

Taurus mars have amazing endurance in sports. They may not be naturally athletic like (mars in Aries/scorpios) but they are probably the hardest to beat sport wise cuz they are able to play for hours it’s insane. They know how to wear people out to their advantage.

Mars in 3rd house people usually have an intense relationship with their siblings. Could’ve grew up always arguing and bickering. Or they could’ve had siblings that were big in sports (mars ruling sports and athletics). They were usually always competing against each other.

A lot of the people I’ve seen that dropped out of high school had a lot of 12th house and Aquarius energy in their charts.

Gemini moons grew up usually in an extremely social environment. Could’ve had parties constantly or always had a big group of friends over. Their mother made sure they were always stimulated. So much so that most gem moons never had time to learn themselves emotionally.

Capricorn placements are only fun and humorous if they like you. If they don’t they’ll look irritated and act kinda bitchy around you. (Especially cap suns and risings)

Pisces risings act so innocent but really be the most evil people lowkey. They are the definitions of a wolf in sheep clothing.

Sun conjunction moon in synastry is probably the best placement to have with a partner/friend. Honestly even in family this is a great aspect. You guys just get eachother without even speaking it can feel like your looking into a mirror but in a comforting homey kinda way. Ik this placement is so over hyped but it really is that good!

[preeningpisces]

Nanami NSFW Headcanons

Lemme know if you want me to elaborate/write something about any of these

18+ content below the cut, mdni, implied chubby fem!reader

Enjoy! 💙

☆ Starting controversial agaaaain, but like I said with Toji, I just don’t see him being a hard dom either. This man will never call you a whore, would be offended if you requested he call you a bitch or cumdump—I think he’d be okay with slut, but he wouldn’t say that unless you ask

☆ Very firm about his boundaries, he won’t do anything he doesn’t feel comfortable doing & you won’t be able to change his mind. Very respectful of yours & will never push them

☆ Lowkey loves to be praised & doted on. His ears turn very pink when you tell him how good he’s making you feel, or how big his cock is, or if you tell him his voice is sexy

☆ The fact you find his voice sexy confuses him—he thinks it’s too monotone, and he isn’t exactly the smoothest guy out there with his words. He’s not very talkative in general, and that extends to sex as well. Once you express how much it turns you on, however, he will dirty talk more, and more often as he builds confidence doing it (dirty talk is hard you guys, be patient with him!!!)

☆ Nanami is stiff, and awkward when your sexual relationship begins. He doesn’t have a ton of experience, and his stoic nature can make moments of passion challenging for him. If you’re more experienced, you’ll probably take the lead, and it’s something he’s very thankful for.

☆ If you’re less or equally experienced, he’ll take the lead. He’ll be honest about his own lack of experience, and the two of you will explore uncharted territory together—so sweet

☆ Even during the early stages when he’s awkward his intensity, observant nature, generosity, and thoroughness have an allure of their own

☆ He definitely warms up with time though, so don’t fret. Sex has never been at the forefront of his mind, so he discovers his kinks/preferences through your relationship

☆ As I said before, Nanami is a very generous lover; making you feel good makes him feel good. He’s the type that can come from eating you out, which is especially hot if he’s dressed in those formal clothes of his

☆ He loves toys, uses a vibrator on you almost everytime you have sex. Nanami is a very practical person; the vibrator makes you feel so good, and allows him to put more focus on other ways of pleasing you—why wouldn’t he use it? The notion that some men hate them bc they threaten their egos bewilders him

☆ Your vibrators are basically never dead because Nanami is on TOP of those things; he’s gotta make sure it’s ready for whenever the mood strikes you guys. The days you’re home and he’s at work you’ll occasionally get a ‘is the vibrator on the charger?’ text, reminding you like a parent would their kid about the chicken they’re supposed to thaw LMFAO

☆ Not a tease at all. If you say please he’s gonna do it!! If you tell him you want to be teased in the bedroom he’ll try his best but it doesn’t take much before he relents :/

☆ Breeding kink yes, but I just KNOW he’s a vasectomy man (unless yall decide to pop some kiddos out). He’s just too responsible to be risky, & doesn't want his partner to feel obliged to take on the responsibility of birth control all alone. Perfect man, truly

☆ Nanami loves some good ol’ fashioned missionary—who doesn’t? But he also really enjoys positions where he can just hold you close, and focus on the intimacy of the moment and the physical sensations rather than the visuals. Prone bone, and cuddlefucking are prime examples; when he rests his head in your neck, his free hand squeezing all your softness, he’s in heaven

☆ Nylons, pantyhose, stockings: wear them if you want to get destroyed. If you got thigh-highs that pinch your leg? Hoooooo boy. He’s not typically a biter, but the squishy parts hanging over the stocking will be gnawed on. Just accept they’ll be bruised, you’ll be ok

☆Nanami is very appreciative of lingerie, and does not tear it off, he’ll have you keep them on the whole time

☆ Huuuuge sucker for scents. Perfume, soap, laundry detergent—he appreciates good smells, and once he starts associating certain smells with you they get him going

[bellesmadeofsilk]

What to wear M.M x FEM! reader

Overture- Matt's worried about meeting your parents

CWs- Mentions of bruises, not being perceived as good enough, one joke about stripping and not a whole lot else

A/N- oops it's kind of late but Merry Christmas if you celebrate it, and happy chanukah if you celebrate that. And have a nice Wednesday otherwise. Also the divider is courtesy of @anitalenia

You’d never seen Matt this worried before. You’d seen him have nerves before court, or even genuine fear over some of the things happening in his city– but they were always overpowered by his endless resolve. You’d listen to him talk through his problems, through opening statements, and lines of questioning– and at the end of the day he’d feel a lot better. But tonight he was spiraling a little bit and no amount of nervous pacing was helping him. 

He had three near-identical suits laying on his bed, and was pacing from the bedroom to his living room where you sat on the couch. It started with him trying to decide on his clothes for tomorrow and had become– this. 

“What if they don’t like me?” You really tried not to laugh at him— like your parents wouldn’t like the nice guy with perfect manners and a stable career. 

“Matt, they’ll love you– it’ll be a great day tomorrow. I’m cooking, you’re going to be so wonderfully charming, and my parents have never even been to New York before– you’ve got the home field advantage.”

“What if they see one of my bruises– or my scars? I don’t want them to think I’m violent.” Currently his bruises were confined to his upper arm, chest, and back— no one would see them.

“Well then I guess you can’t strip at dinner.” It wasn’t especially often that you could tease Matt, but he was being more than a little ridiculous– no one would guess that your blind boyfriend got a bruise because he was fighting someone on a random rooftop at one in the morning. You laugh a little bit as you put your hands on his shoulders, stopping his pacing. He allowed you to give him a peck on the lips, even though he was still antsy. When you pulled away, he put his hand over yours, still on his shoulder. 

“I’m serious. They’re going to think I’m not good enough for you.” 

“Oh Matt– they’d never say that.”

“But it’s true. I’m not good enough for you.”

“Matt– I think you are wonderful, smart, and sweet, and my parents are going to think you’re great– I’m sure of it.” He could hear your heartbeat. He knew you were telling the truth. But you could think that they’d like him all you want, it wouldn’t change the fact that they might not. And much to your dismay he could only sigh in response, looking down at you. 

“Matt, I'm serious. At the very least, they’ll think you’re a polite young man with a stable job and a nice suit.” That got a laugh out of him— it was self conscious, but an improvement over the frown he had before. 

“Well that’s good at least. Something in my favor.” 

“And Matt? Just for the record it doesn’t matter to me whether or not they like you. I love you, and they love me, and nothing is going to change that.” You’d never said that to him before. Not out loud at least— you’d thought it, and when you knew he was far enough that even he couldn’t hear you, you’d practiced saying it. But he’d never heard you say it before. 

“You love me?”

“Obviously— I don’t know if you noticed, but you’re pretty fantastic.”

“And you’re sweet. And I love you too.” He kissed your forehead and pulled you into a hug, your face buried in his chest. 

“So you’ll be ok tomorrow?” He just gave a contented sigh and pulled you even tighter to him, inadvertently squishing your face. 

“As long as you’re there, I’ll be fine I think.” You squirmed away from his hold just enough to press a light kiss to his jaw, then to his lips. You could physically feel him smile, and then feel that smile fade a little bit when he started talking again. 

“But seriously, which suit do you think?”

[lushaletta]

paparazzi / remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

warnings: none

summary: kissing remus backstage before his show.

a/n: OH MY GOD?!! HELLO?? bro. it’s been too long. writer’s block is wiiiiild. anyway. here’s some rockstar!remus self-indulgent fluff as my apology.

⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

You’d been a secret.

Though, you’d grown accustomed to having to tiptoe around the set, stealing glances and smiles.

So this? Wrong. Dangerous. Careless.

You’re wearing your darkest shade of red lipstick, and there are already stains on his collar from your makeup. Paparazzi would never let it go.

“Remus—“ A kiss. “I—“ Another. “They’ll see us.”

He finally pulls away, letting you breathe for more than a second. “Maybe they will.”

You laugh. “In case you’ve forgotten, you’re going to be performing in…” You glance at his watch, “7 minutes.”

“I haven’t forgotten anything, sweetheart.”

“So we should really—“ He decides that if he can’t kiss your lips, your neck will have to suffice. It’s just as distracting, if not more so. “You should be.. backstage.”

You look up at Remus, and there’s a quirk in his brow. “I am backstage.”

“You know what I mean.”

He does know what you mean, but he takes pleasure in your frustration, apparently.

“Remus.”

Putting his hands up in concession, “Two minutes, darling. Two minutes.”

It’s absurd how quickly you nod. Two minutes couldn’t possibly harm anyone. He grabs your face, planting kisses on your nose, your lips, your cheeks, and it’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

“So pretty,” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“You’re one to talk.”

He laughs, a sweet sound. “You only think so because I’m covered in your lipstick, Miss Possessive.”

Remus was right, for the most part. You found him pretty all the time, but he looked especially good when it was evident he was yours; something not so common when your relationship was a secret from the public.

“You should wipe that off,” you say, not quite wanting him to.

“Later, honey.”

He places a final kiss on your forehead before retreating to the stage, face and clothes ruined by your make-up.

[xoxochb]

⋆·˚ ༘ * feet on the dashboard, he’s like a poem I wish I wrote!!

warnings: none

pairing: husband! percy jackson x wife! reader

summary: married life with percy headcannons

୨୧ best husband ever, I don’t make the rules

୨୧ living on a house by the beach for sure

୨୧ waking up to the gentle sounds of waves omg omg

୨୧ sometimes percy likes to stay in bed for a while in the morning and watch you sleep peacefully

୨୧ but on many other occasions he gets up early and makes breakfast

୨୧ all blue too, if it can be colored you know he will take this opportunity

୨୧ typically beach houses have back porches so you put a table out there and on days when the weather is nice you sit outside to eat!

୨୧ anyways he loves when you read to him

୨୧ he loves listening to your voice, always soothing to him

୨୧ most nights when you settle in bed for the night he has you read a few chapters, he swears it helps him sleep

୨୧ some nights will be spent on the beach though

୨୧ watching the sunset, swimming, watching the stars, etc

୨୧ late night swims 100%

୨୧ and I mean like waking you up in the middle of the night just to swim with you

୨୧ for what reason? you don’t know, but it makes him incredibly happy so you go along with it

୨୧ bickering all the time definitely

୨୧ It’s never anything serious though, always playful

୨୧ you’re always stealing percy’s clothes

୨୧ his wardrobe is your wardrobe now!!

୨୧ he loves it though, and sometimes he helps you pick out your outfits for you

୨୧ he always makes sure that at least one article of clothing you’re wearing is his

୨୧ partially because he likes seeing you in his clothes and partially so if you have any encounters with someone trying to hit on you they’ll know you’re married

୨୧ and speaking of knowing you’re married whenever he’s with people or whatever he tries to find a way to talk about you

୨୧ he’ll purposely show off his wedding ring, making sure it’s in direct eyesight so everyone knows he’s married

୨୧ moving back to the subject of helping you get ready I know he would love to do your hair for you

୨୧ It’s the sweetest thing ever he’d purposely watch videos or do whatever to learn a new hairstyle for him to try out on you

୨୧ puts so much effort into it too… he is determined to make you happy

୨୧ moving on I feel like his hugs would be so comforting

୨୧ the smell of the ocean and faint cologne

୨୧ hugs from behind >>

୨୧ especially in the morning or at night when he’s sleepy and just nuzzles his head in your shoulder taking in your scent

୨୧ percy always smiles like crazy when you walk into the room

୨୧ It doesn’t even matter if you’ve been gone for five minutes, a half an hour, thirty seconds he’s just happy you’re back with him <3

୨୧ he refuses to let you leave the house with him, always insisting you do absolutely everything together

୨୧ ‘adds onto the married life’ he says but you know it’s just because he loves being with you

୨୧ but to wrap this up he’s definitely the most perfect husband, you wouldn’t trade him for the world 🫶🏼

[merakiui]

boyfriend.

yandere!female!riddle rosehearts x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, implied (cyber)stalking, cheating, dub-con, alcohol/intoxication, characters written as 18+ note - riddle seeks to prune the filthy weeds from your life, starting with your ill-mannered boyfriend. // inspired by dove cameron's boyfriend.

i. i can’t believe we’re finally alone. i can’t believe i almost went home. what are the chances? everyone’s dancing, and he’s not with you.

Riddle has never traveled to this part of the city before—the seedy, unsavory sliver overshadowed by towering skyscrapers, illicit, perilous secrets tucked away in every alley. It’s not as if she’s here under duress. Although if you were to frame it from her perspective, it would feel less like an active, consensual choice and more of a you’ve-forced-my-hand choice. It’s blatant rule-breaking all the same, a stain on her delicate character. Blight on her shiny social status as a golden child, forever marked as the obedient one.

She’s lived her rebellious streak, was punished swiftly and accordingly, and strived to be better in the aftermath. It was one thing to slip out during independent study, and that fun had been trampled upon by a cruel, heeled foot. That was a child’s error. A lesson learned. A valid reason to sever all distractions and improve academically, consequently maturing with sharp, sparkling intelligence and abysmal social skills. 

But Riddle is no longer that starry-eyed, impressionable child, and she does not make the same mistake twice.

Or so she’s always believed, but she’s willing to risk an unforgiving tongue-lashing and life imprisonment at the hands of her mother if it means she can fix things. No matter how she spins it, the truth remains the same: She’s fallen back on an old habit, sneaking out and keeping secrets. She’s an open book to Trey, though, who she’d taken care to message on the train ride into the city, her text mostly cryptic: Should anything happen, this is where I’ll be. It’s wrong to skirt around the truth, especially when it’s your closest friend. She knows this, but then she also knows Trey gives terribly good advice. The type of terribly good advice you often don’t want to hear.

Advice like: “You need to let her go.”

And Riddle can’t—won’t. 

So she steps into the digital footprints left by that brash, brutish party animal you lovingly call your boyfriend, and she follows the string of social media posts like a diligent detective, flicking through each with manicured fingernails. She commits them to memory so that they remain imprinted in her mind before they’ll eventually expire at the twenty-four hour mark.

In the days leading up to tonight, Cater had taken her out for their usual self-care makeover day, which was really just a day dedicated to dressing up and gossiping at the salon. It was a monthly arrangement, and it kept the both of them entertained and sane. The latter of those two was called into question when Riddle, wholly out of character, selected black nail polish for her mani-pedi, which left Cater looking on with brewing curiosity. She gazed at him, pouty lips upturned slyly, and said, “I thought I’d give red a temporary break.”

“Oh, but red is so your color!” he insisted, raising his phone to capture both of them in frame. 

Riddle smiled at the camera. “I know.”

It has always been her color, a staple in her closet. It’s a favorite she can never truly shake, hence why it stains her lips instead. Bright like arterial blood, a blossoming carnation, it stands out starkly on her pale countenance—the only splotch of color on her person. Cater took her shopping when he’d learned she was attempting to fit a new style into her wardrobe of prim, modest clothes. They ran up and down the racks, grinning at each other from across the store and holding up sweaters and skirts, weighing whether either would suit Riddle’s night out. In the end, she settled for the outfit she wears now: a red tube top, a cropped puffer jacket, a pencil skirt that doesn’t pass the fingertip test (not that she cares to follow that rule), tights, and knee-high heeled boots. To finish the look, she’s pulled her hair from its usual plaits, allowing it to cascade down her back like a crimson waterfall. Fingerless lace gloves adorn her hands, stitched with intricate patterns of roses and thorns.

Cater called it the Femme Fatale Friday fit. It’s a Saturday night, but it feels like Friday when she peers at her reflection in a pocket mirror, checking her makeup once more. 

She will not make the same mistake twice. She’s a paragon of perfection—Riddle Rosehearts, for seven’s sake! 

Stuffing the mirror into a matching handbag, she eyes the skyscraper looming before her, sleek with its metal framework and industrial glass. The bright cityscape reflects off of each window, dazzling with luminous specks of light. She considers the contents in her purse, reviews each with a critical eye, and inhales a steadying breath. 

This is necessary.

She’s an adult now, nearly finished with her graduate studies. She lives on her own in a quaint, pet-friendly apartment with her hedgehog, and she works part-time at the café down the street, putting forth her best effort as she weathers the woes of university. Despite all of this independence, she doesn’t feel like an adult. 

Not when she can hear her mother in the back of her head: You look ridiculous. Come home right now before you make a fool of yourself and sully my good name.

Riddle scowls at the concrete, curling her fingers into fists. 

She’s an adult now. She is not her mother’s doll.

Leaving all hostility and self-doubt at the door, she steps through the lobby and beelines for the lift. It carries her to her destination—one of the highest floors. A penthouse suite. 

And not just any penthouse suite. Floyd Leech’s penthouse suite.

Under normal circumstances, she would never willingly set foot in his territory. She survived four years of school with him, which was already a sickening amount, and in that time she watched him glide through his undergraduate with just barely passing grades. That wasn’t enough to stoke the red-hot embers of envy, though. It only made him seem even more like a cockroach, unable to be crushed by the weight of scholarly responsibilities, for he never took anything seriously.

For that reason, Riddle has never envied Floyd. But by the end of their third year, he had something Riddle didn’t. 

He had you. 

How he managed to settle into a relationship when all he did was slack off, party, and break the rules was beyond Riddle. He was a slippery delinquent, hardly deserving of your sweet affections, and yet you looked at him like he was the only one on the planet. Just where was the appeal? His manner of dress is sloppy. The way he carries himself is unpalatable and crude. The way he acts suggests his insipience is incurable. Even when he applies himself, he is still Floyd and that doesn’t clean his slate or shine his reputation. So in Riddle’s discerning eyes, he does not possess a scintilla of romantic appeal.

You don’t seem to agree with these sentiments, for you’ve been with Floyd for four long years. 

Love is blinding, but Riddle has never been in love before and so she doesn’t have adequate data to prove this point. It was forbidden in her home. She’s only allowed to love the men her mother handpicks, plucking each specimen like they’re ripened strawberries from a bush. In the beginning she found all manner of minor details to excuse them from her life, insisting upon a nonexistent list of impossibly high standards. He was too tall. He was too forward with his interest. He wore contrasting colors. He didn’t like tea. These reasons were far too critical and childish, and each man had been sent away in a huff. Her mother would scold her, halving her with a nasty glare: “Are you planning to die alone?”

Yes, Riddle realized by the twentieth admonishment, yet another man cast aside. If dying alone means romantic freedom in life, I’ll do just that.

The elevator spits her out into the hall, which isn’t as silent as she thought it’d be. Bass shakes through the walls, reverberating all the way through her ribs as if it intends to stir up her organs. She catches her reflection in the windows, noting the dark, monstrous scowl, and smooths her face into something courageous. She means business as she clicks down the hall, preparing herself for the whirlwind that undoubtedly waits behind the door. Riddle starts to wonder how Floyd’s neighbors have yet to file a noise complaint and then stops, her thoughts cutting off abruptly. It’s a challenge to make complaints when your father holds parts of the city’s underground in his palms.

He’s got it easy, that spoiled pest. 

Riddle’s gait slows to a halt and she reaches out to knock thrice. The door is thrown open before she can even bring her fist down. Soon she’s staring at a rosy-cheeked stranger, whose eyes trace her figure like he’s trying to paint her on his mental canvas. She’s prepared for the worst, having tucked the spray in her bag, its container disguised to look like lipstick. The strawberry keychain hanging from her purse is a self-defense alarm, ready to be pulled at a moment’s notice. His ogling does not frighten her, nor do his intentions, if he can even harbor any in that intoxicated brain of his. She’s braved scarier horrors. Like living out years of her life with her mother.

“Heyyy, you one of Floyd’s girls? Here for the party?”

Riddle suppresses the disgusted shiver threatening to crawl up her spine, swallowing bile. “Just the party.” 

She is no one’s girl. Definitely not Floyd’s. 

When she’s let inside and the stench of sweat and alcohol assault her nostrils, coupled with the too-loud party music, she considers retreating, her mother’s judgment echoing: You look ridiculous. Her fingers twitch towards her purse. One text and Trey would pick her up. One call and Cater would be on his way. But then she’d be forced to tell them the truth—would have to admit that she’s chasing the one person she can never have. 

She hardens her resolve, pushes through the throng of bodies in an effort to find refreshments, and there you are, her perfect, pretty wallflower in a perfect, pretty silver dress. The dim neon lighting casts you in a luscious pink haze, and she watches you scroll through your phone, your eyelids falling and opening. You’re so beautiful—the sweetest thing she’s ever seen, more saccharine than a truckload of strawberry tarts. Her hand slides away from her purse, and she tamps down a gleeful smile, stepping over to you with newfound confidence.

“(Name)?”

You turn your whole body towards her, your gaze unfocused. She can smell the liquor on you, can see the hickeys not quite covered by a velvet choker. Her gaze narrows. He’s all over you, isn’t he? From top to bottom, you are covered in traces of him. Her nose scrunches. Just what do you see in him?

It should be her teeth on your skin, tearing it open, bruising it, tasting slick copper on her tongue. It should have always been her, but it’s not. Why did you have to settle for less when you’re entitled to so much more?

You peer at her like she’s something in a museum, perplexing and abstract. And then it clicks. You gasp, your mouth falling open in awe, and your words come out horribly slurred. She fails to hide her wince when you throw your arms around her, hanging off of her like a tote on a shoulder.

“Riddle! You…seriously showed up… Can’t believe it’s really you. It feels like it’s been forever.” You pull away, swaying with the motion, and place your hands on her arms. “Your outfit is suuuper cute.”

She’s blushing. She knows she is because her face is burning with heat and suddenly it’s much too stifling in here. “Oh. Ah, um, t-thank you very much… You look very nice, too.”

Really? Is that the best thing I could say? ‘You look very nice’? Honestly, Riddle…

But you smile, and the sight steals her heart all over again. You can have it. By all means take her heart. Take it and love it to pieces. That way it will be fair when she takes yours. An even exchange in accordance with the rules of love. 

Or maybe it’s more so the rules of romantic warfare, carried out to the extreme on a chessboard. Or a croquet court. Something sporty and metaphorical, anyway.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” she asks, refusing to say his name lest she speak him into existence and tarnish her near-perfect evening.

Her question strikes a chord within you, and you heave an exaggerated sigh. You cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the wall for support. “Left me to go hang with the guys. S’not fair!” you whine, sliding further down until you’re sitting in a defeated heap. 

Riddle bends down to your height, her tone as soft and sympathetic as her expression. “Does he always do this?”

Hurt flashes across your face, but you don’t say anything. So he does. Why is she not surprised?

Who in the world leaves their partner at a party, vulnerable and alone? Riddle thinks, anger flaring up in her chest. Someone could take advantage of you. You’re in no state to be standing here by yourself. That fool… He doesn’t know how to treat a lady at all. How have you put up with him for four years? Your patience amazes me.

“It’s not like…” You shut your eyes and rest your head against the wall. “Not like an always-happening thing…”

Riddle isn’t going to sugarcoat it. She wants her words to cut deep, all the way to the heart you’ve allowed Floyd to bind. “Whether or not he does it often, the fact still stands that he left you intoxicated in the corner of this room. That’s careless and unsafe.” She tilts her head, admiring the way you’ve done your makeup, the way your plush lips jut out in a miserable pout. And it just rushes out, words she’s thought but never had the courage to say. At least, not to the sober you. “I wouldn’t do that to you. You deserve so much better.”

Like me, she almost adds, but that’s too direct. And she’s not even sure the admission will land when you’re so out of it.

“Appreciate it…” You scrub your face, groaning. “Ugh. I feel sick…”

“Would you like to get some fresh air?” 

You shake your head, stubborn to a fault. “Can’t. Gotta wait for Floyd.”

Riddle frowns. “I highly doubt he’s coming back anytime soon.” 

“Still.”

“At the very least, let’s get you some water.” She offers her hand, hoping and praying to the heavens above that you’ll take it.

You do. It’s a flawless fit. Her heart flutters, weightless and feathery, when her fingers close around yours. She wonders what moisturizer you use, what sort of lotions kiss your skin. Are they scented, or is that just your perfume? Or have you done away with perfume for tonight and is that a natural fragrance? Or maybe it’s the sweet scent of a fruity wine, printed on your tongue like a delicious tattoo. 

She wants to kiss you. 

“Just how much have you had to drink?” 

“Like a cup or two? I…dunno. Does it matter?”

You stumble when she helps you up, grabbing at her shoulder for support. Riddle almost falls back, but the wall braces her. You place your palm right by her head, and suddenly you’re leaning in, inadvertently pinning her to the wall. Her pupils nearly eclipse her blue-grey irises, and her breath sticks in her throat. Oh, you’re so close. You’re a drunken mess, pushing yourself up against her, your beauty enveloping her like a chrysalis. If this is a dream, she never wants to wake, for the world that awaits her beyond this is cold and colorless. 

Your head lowers to the dip between shoulder and neck, and she gazes heavenward. The ceiling is much nicer at this moment, if only so she can clear her own heady haze of impure thoughts. 

There are people about, she has to remind herself, shaking off the urge to close her fingers around your chin and tilt your head up to meet her mouth. And she has a boyfriend. Just because I can doesn’t mean I should.

But the chance is much too beguiling. You’re right here, quite literally within her reach, and Floyd’s nowhere in sight. It’s too perfect. She can’t quite wrap you in an affectionate embrace—though that is an irresistible urge she must fight off—so she settles to rub circles into your back instead, dutifully reflecting the role of a concerned friend. It’s not the part she wishes to play. Rather, she’d gladly take on the title of boyfriend if it meant you’d feel loved. Every day, at every hour, for the rest of your life. She’d do all the things Floyd ought to do: care for you, appreciate you, protect you, stay by your side through thick and thin. 

Love is a dangerous, thorny thing, but it’s the encroaching jealousy that kills. 

Floyd doesn’t deserve you. If anything, he deserves a mouth full of soap to scrub every profanity he’s ever uttered. Just what does he tell you in bed? That you’re a good girl? That you’re soooo tight? That you can take it? Does he know which ways you like it? Does he know where to touch so you’ll unravel faster? Does he know how to get you properly, thoroughly worked up, so much so that it feels like your skin is aflame with potent want and desire? 

Does he even know your anatomy, or are you simply a body for his avaricious appetite? 

Like roses twining possessively around a trellis, Riddle holds you close in her arms, her hand sweeping across your lower back. Her glacial eyes scan the crowd, warding off anyone who may be curious with her most malevolent death stare. 

“Mm… I need to lie down. My head is…spinning…”

With that, the murderous, overprotective haze sticking to Riddle like a poisonous fog dissipates. A sickly sweet smile widens on ruby-red lips. “Let’s find someplace quiet.”

Together, the two of you stagger-walk out of the room, leaving the party and its inhabitants behind. Crossing through the attached kitchenette, Riddle pilfers a bottled water from the fridge.

Her mind is sharp as a cut diamond. Her skin prickles with anticipation.

Down the hall you go, with Riddle supporting you with what minimal physical strength she has. A door looms before the both of you, cast in a comfortable glow from a neighboring skyscraper, and you struggle to pull your heels off while she pushes the door open. It reveals a messy room, clothing and candy wrappers strewn about sloppily. 

Riddle feels like she’s on top of the world, and she is. Up in the clouds on the forty-third floor of this luxurious penthouse apartment. 

ii. i could be a better boyfriend than him. i could do the shit that he never did. up all night, i won’t quit. 

All throughout her undergraduate, Riddle pined. Hopelessly. Forlornly. Desperately.

Hungrily. 

It was unbecoming to want something to such an obsessive degree. She buried herself in her studies to do away with lustful delusions, each more distracting than the last. But then you would crop up in her life when she least expected it and soon the two of you were studying together. Soon you were visiting her dorm to watch movies during the times in which she allowed herself the break (and she only did so because it was you). Soon you were spending nights in her room, sleeping sprawled on the floor even though she offered her bed time and time again. You’d get ready in the mornings, debating what the breakfast menu would entail. She’d watch your reflection in the floor mirror as you pulled your shirt up and over your head, eyeing the way you slid seamlessly into a lacy black bra. And then she’d change out of her nightgown, and you’d comment on her undergarments. 

“We should go shopping sometime. You gotta get cuter stuff!”

“Why should I? No one’s going to see it,” she insisted with a flustered huff.

“I’ll see it the next time I sleep over,” you told her, smiling innocently as you stepped into a blue handkerchief skirt. “Besides, there are so many cute sets you could wear. You’d look so pretty in something red and frilly. You’re totally missing out.”

Riddle considered it back then. Your eager eyes had almost won her over, but she was firm in her decision. “I’m fine with what I have now.” 

And the conversation ended there. She really wishes you would have pushed it back then because just a little nudge in that direction and she would have given in, entirely at your mercy. 

Selfishly, she just yearned to be stuck in a changing stall with you. 

All throughout her undergraduate, Riddle fostered a special sort of friendship with you. You’d stop by her dorm during finals to insist she take a break, your offer too tempting. She’s always been weak to sweets. You were close enough to exchange intimate details with one another. She listened to all of your dating woes, and conversely you’d sit still and bear witness to her ramblings about fascinating law facts. Sometimes she’d rant about her mother. You always listened. “She sounds like she sucks,” you said once. “How are you even related to her? You’re so nice.”

It was a pleasant three years. If she deluded herself enough, she could have pretended you were her girlfriend and then she’d have something to tell her mother to put an end to the countless attempts at scoring her a husband. I will never marry any of your options, she would think, playing the confrontation out in her head. I have a partner now and we’re very happy together. Sometimes Riddle imagined her mother tossing darts at a board with photographs of men attached to it, disregarding compatibility altogether in favor of upholding traditional rules. But then Riddle realized she’d have to die before she could ever admit her own romantic freedoms to her mother, and so that conversation only ever came about in daydreams. 

I’d rather die alone than live life shackled in a loveless marriage. She wonders if her father thought the same.

Those three years had been a wonderful reality, filled with sugared, candy-coated love. A one-sided love, sure. But Riddle could settle for platonic affections, for that was just as sweet.

And then he arrived at the doorstep to Riddle’s fantasy cottage, kicking the walls down and sweeping you off your feet.

Floyd Leech has always been a nuisance. You were there to shoo him away every time he came knocking, all broad grins and vexatious jeers. He listened to you most days, a mutt without proper leashing, oddly loyal to you. As if you were his keeper of sorts. Riddle was amazed, befuddled, and worried all at once. Unlike her, you could keep your cool, could still smile so kindly even when Floyd was being an utter pain in the ass with his foolish nicknames. When he tried to pluck Riddle’s hairpin from out of her braids—a handmade gift you had given her for her birthday—she slapped him hard across the face and hissed, “Don’t ever put your filthy paws on me again.”

And maybe it was because you were there that she was able to recover shortly after the outburst. (Although she still meant that slap with every fiber of her being.) Maybe you were her collar. Maybe you were her keeper. Maybe she was meant to meet you so that you could color her world, lead her along into the friendship she’d been robbed of as a child. 

Looking back, Riddle realizes that was the catalyst. Because when Floyd cradled his bright-red cheek, giggling like a maniac, you asked him, “Don’t you have anything better to do? Can’t you bother someone else?”

And then you were made the prime target. 

What’s worse is that you reveled in it, adored every ounce of attention Floyd gave you like it was something holy, later admitting to Riddle during a movie marathon that you “wondered if Floyd was seeing anyone.” She wanted to retch. You, a seraph incarnate, with a devil like Floyd? Impossible. But your tone was so whimsical; you were dreaming of it. You liked him. 

She couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it.

By the end of her third year, just as finals gave way to summer, you threw your arms around Floyd’s neck while he pressed you up against the trunk of a flowering tree. Pink petals fluttered to the ground, and with the falling blossoms came Riddle’s hope, crashing and burning in a heartbroken heap. 

She won’t make the same mistake twice, which is precisely why, when you flop onto Floyd’s unmade bed, she turns the lock to keep all outside influences away. The party is but a mere muffle now, thrumming through the floorboards with reckless abandon.

Her nose wrinkles at the pile of dirty laundry. Slob, she thinks, brimming with hate. What does she see in you? You’re a mess, you’re definitely a criminal, you can’t keep a stable job, you throw obnoxious parties every other week, you leave your own girlfriend unattended… What part of that is appealing? She gazes at you next. You’re too good for him, (Name). You can do so much better. Raise your standards. Find someone respectable and attentive. Someone who’ll stay with you forever. Someone who won’t let you get stupidly drunk and then run off to Queen-knows-where.

“Someone like me,” she mutters.

You have to be coerced into drinking, and you’re so sleepy that the water dribbles down your chin. Riddle tuts at you, swiping the liquid away with her sleeve. 

“You’re a mess,” she says, affectionate despite the barb. 

You’re my mess.

She slides your heels off, casting them elsewhere. You look like a starfish when you lay sprawled, or maybe you’re more like a snow angel. Only rather than snow, you imprint yourself amongst wrinkled sheets. Riddle knows it’s wrong, but you’re right here. She’s waited so many years for a moment like this one.

It’s not fair. 

She unzips her boots, kicks them off, and stands at the edge of the bed, locked in a fierce debate. You should have thrown your arms around her that day. You should have kissed her, should have spent the last four years with her, should have stayed in her life like the permanent fixture you were destined to be. She’s never wanted anything more than this. Not even a surplus of strawberry tarts. Not even the dreams she’s working tirelessly towards achieving. She’s only ever wanted you. 

But Floyd took you away, and her world has never been the same since. 

The mattress dips under her weight; she’s made up her mind. 

“Do you remember the promise we made?” she whispers, running her hands up your legs. You lift your head to look at her, eyes glassy with inebriated exhaustion. “The one in which we’d live together after graduation? You said you’d want to live somewhere pet-friendly so we could get hedgehogs and name them Tweedledee and Tweedledum.”

You hum, your lashes fluttering. 

“We could still do that. Just you and me. Without your boyfriend.”

“What?”

Her fingers catch on the waistband of your panties. “Hm?” 

“Mm, no, nothing… You should get going. It’s late…” “Someone has to look after you.”

“Floyd can.”

She presses her thumbs into your hips and the tiniest gasp leaves your parted lips. “But Floyd’s not.”

“He will.”

“He won’t,” she snaps. Something flickers in your eyes, a flash of unrest. Riddle chews her lower lip. “He’s… (Name), what do you see in him? Honestly, truly, what is it? Please educate me. Please… What does he have that I don’t? What makes you stay?”

“Cuz he’s my boyfriend,” you mutter slowly, perplexed, “and I love him.”

“Do you?” 

“Riddle, why are you so…” The words fizzle out on your tongue when her touch strays too close to home. “Wait… We can’t… Not in here.”

“Why not? It’s just one more mess. He won’t even notice.”

“That’s not it… Riddle, wait. I… I don’t like you in that—”

She collapses, anchoring herself to you, her manicured nails digging deep into your arms. And then her mouth is on yours, clumsy and uncoordinated. She doesn’t want to hear it—can’t bear to hear it. She knows the truth. It’s haunted her from the day she met you, a shadow looming like a guillotine’s blade. You were fated to be forever out of reach. Just like those strawberry tarts in the bakery window. The kiss is filthy, all desire and zero skill. Her tongue flashes into your mouth. It’s nothing like the way they describe it in fiction or portray it in films. It’s obscene. Sinful. Libidinous. Her lipstick smears; she tastes the wine in your throat, licks your teeth and nibbles your lip, delicate and gruesome all at once. She tries her best, unyielding. 

The technique doesn’t matter. Not now, anyway. It’s just blind, unrequited passion. She’ll learn it eventually and when she does she’ll kiss you drunk. It’s just another thing she’ll master. And she will because that’s just who she is. Give her a textbook and she’ll have it memorized. Give her a kiss and she’ll return to practice it to perfection. 

She pulls away, panting, her lipstick in disarray. It’s all over you, smudging on the corners of your mouth. Running a hand through her hair, her figure outlined in the tantalizing glow from the city lights, she licks her lips. 

“Riddle…” 

Spoken soft like prayer, it’s a whisper she’ll treasure. Over and over, without end, repeat it like a mantra. 

“Riddle, please…”

“He doesn’t know anything about your preferences, does he?” Your dress is slid up next. She traces a heart into your bare stomach, capturing your navel in invisible lines. You shudder under her touch, grabbing at her wrist with a limp hand. She brings it up to her lips and presses a chaste kiss to the top of it. “I know you much better than he does. I always have.”

To prove it, she presses two fingers to your clothed pussy. You whine, reedy and high-pitched. “But…”

“I read it takes fourteen minutes for women to reach their end during partnered sex.” She levels you with a half-lidded stare, smirking. What she lacks in skill, she makes up for in raw confidence. “I’ll only need less than that, so you won’t have to feign anything for my sake. I know you well enough, my rose.”

A wide range of emotions waltzes across your countenance. Your arm falls over your face next. It’s defeat or hesitant acceptance, but to Riddle it’s love. 

“Ten minutes,” you whisper, conceding. “And then…you need to leave.”

She makes you cum in just five, covers you in lipstick prints, each kiss a sly cover-up. Floyd may be all over you, bites and bruises blooming new and old, but he’s not inside you, wringing you out like a sodden towel. You sob like you’re in heat when she sinks her fingers into your slick warmth, scissoring so slowly, until you’re begging her to make you cum again. Your fluids soak through the sheets. The scent of sex and sweat hangs heavy in the air. She’s alive, wildly untamed, a knight who’s just rescued the princess and slayed a bloodthirsty dragon. 

Her head is between your thighs next, her hands braced on either leg to keep them apart. You watch her with glazed eyes, soon throwing your head back when she slides your hood up to reveal your pretty, pert clit. Experimentally, she licks a teasing stripe up your slit. You shiver and dig your fingers into her scalp, imprisoning her there. It’s where she’s always wanted to be. 

“Tell me,” she murmurs, the words fanning across your pussy, “if he’s so good, why haven’t you proven it? Is this the most you’ve ever cum in a night? Does he please you or do you please him? If he’s everything you’ve ever wanted, why are you still so unsatisfied?” 

“Because… B-Because!”

Your protests are fragmented and spotted with gasps. That’s arguably more telling than a detailed response. 

Riddle smiles like a Cheshire, her eyes narrowed victoriously. Spidery digits creep along your thighs. Her thumbs dip into your pussy, spreading it wide for her viewing pleasure. “Don’t think of him. Tonight, it’s just you and me. I’ll give you what you’re owed. That and so much more.”

Like a fragile statue, you topple. Right into her, bucking against her mouth like the world is ending, and she’s there to steady you.

She always is.

iii. i’m gonna steal you from him. i could be such a gentleman. plus, you know my clothes would fit.

“Sooo… Gimme the goss. How was your night out?”

Riddle looks up from an assortment of nail polish colors, each one more red than the last, and says, “It was more enjoyable than I thought.”

“Yeah?” Cater prompts, brows raised. “Don’t be so vague! I wanna know all the juicy details. It’s rare for you to stay out so late. And to go to a party, of all things, in the city? Hello?! New Riddle, who’s this?” 

“I was only meeting an old friend.”

“That’s what they all say.”

The technician asks her to pick a color. “This one,” she says, pointing. “The one named Sanguine Sunrise.” 

“You’re totes keeping me in the dark!” Cater whines, dramatic. “At least give Cay-Cay some hints! Something! Anything! Spare change, please?”

Riddle smiles smugly. Pride drips from every syllable when she speaks next. “My friend will be spending this Valentine’s Day alone.”

“Bummer.”

“Not quite. She’ll have me and half-priced chocolates. A rather charming combination, no?”

Cater laughs. “GL. I’m rooting for you.”

You don’t need to, she thinks, tracing the love bite stamped into her skin, hidden under the soft fabric of her blouse. Because I’m already winning.

Her phone buzzes with a text: about last night… if i did anything weird, i’m so sorry. i was way too drunk. 

Riddle turns it over, dips her feet in the heated water, and settles into the massage chair, pleased as a peach. “It was one bad decision. Four years of bad decisions, but it’s forgiven. We all make silly mistakes when we’re lovestruck. Hopefully her silly mistake disappears for good and we never have to speak of him again.”

“You’re so scary, Riddle. Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

Another message arrives: i think we might’ve kissed last night. i’m really super sorry.

There’s a brief delay.

ok this is gonna sound weird coming from me but maybe we can do it again??? floyd’s kisses are sorta… :/ 

Her phone vibrates for the final time that afternoon.

actually i’m just gonna stop talking omg i’m crazy. i have a bf and everything. sorry riddle please ignore all of this kk tysm ttyl <3

wait one more text before i forget,, if you wanna meet up for tea i wouldn’t mind. we should definitely catch up when i’m not hungover. kk bye fr this time <3

A start is a start. You can’t grow a rose tree without first planting a seed.

[extra-gray]

heey i would love to know what kinks do you think ateez members have and what they’ll be into👀

— Ateez Kinks

Thank you for this ask! I hope you enjoy~ Feel free to submit more prompts via my ask box <3

Seonghwa loves pretty things. Lace, leather, rope. He loves seeing different materials and colors against your skin. He loves when you dress up for him. Whether that be pretty skirts, dresses, makeup, jewelry, or even fancy suits or sexy dress clothes. You’re his doll. He’d have a wonderful time slowly worshipping your body… but if you tease him enough like the pretty thing you are, he might just have to ruin your makeup. And don’t forget that he loves to feel pretty too.

Hongjoong likes to be in charge. He loves when he has someone to boss around, someone to listen to his every command. When the members give him a hard time, he knows he has his obedient little pet to take his stress out on. And he does just that. He mixes pleasure and pain, just to keep you on the edge. He can be a bit rough at times, but he lets you know how grateful he is to have such a good pet. Disobey him, however, and you’ll regret it. His punishments are unforgiving.

Yunho likes to breed like a dog. He’s obsessed with giving you his cum, his pups. He wants to fill you up and cover you, and he’ll do anything for you to let him. He loves to beg, and he loves being deprived of what he wants… even if he whines about it. He loves when you deny him until his dick takes over. Until he can’t take it anymore, and has to pin you down and breed you for hours. He seems submissive, but he’ll absolutely ruin you… even while begging and whimpering.

Yeosang uses his tongue for its intended, god-given purpose. It doesn’t turn 180° for nothing baby. His favorite activity, his favorite hobby is eating you out. And he eats it like a madman. He has a way of reducing you to nothing with just his tongue. And he can go for hours. You’ll never find anyone as good at giving head as him. He loves the taste, loves the feeling, and absolutely refuses to stop making you cum even if his jaw hurts. He gets off to it. Can cum untouched, even. He praises you the entire time, telling you how fucking good you taste, and how much he craves it when you don’t give it to him.

San… my boy. He’s so painfully obviously an ass man. He’ll eat your ass, finger it, fuck it. He’ll give you back shots and fuck you as hard as he can just to watch it jiggle. Spanking is a must. He loves to bruise it and bite it. He’ll fuck you into the mattress, make you ride him in reverse, have you sit on his face. He can’t keep his hands off. Ever. He makes you wear tight pants, or short skirts/shorts, so he can see it at all times. He loves when you wear short skirts with nothing underneath, especially in public, and bend over to tease him. Everyone around you has to accept the fact that he’s constantly grabbing your ass and spanking it, no matter where you are.

Mingi. Come on. He has a size kink. His cock is huge, and he loves shoving it in with no warning. He loves forcing you to take all of him, even if it hurts. He’ll act all sweet and innocent while he does it, too. Even when there’s tears in your eyes, he’ll fuck you harder. Deeper. He loves dirty talk. And he’s talking you through it. Telling you how pretty you are, how cute and small you look under him. He’ll hold you down, and he loves when you thrash. He just keeps talking in that innocent voice, praising you like you’re not struggling. Kissing your face and ramming into you with long, deep strokes. He likes to lay his entire body on you, and feel how small you are. He’ll talk you all the way to your orgasm, and all through it. Even coax you into more. Over and over again, until your wrists are bruised, and your body aches.

Wooyoung loves to tease. He dies for the attention. He teases you until you’re sucking up to him… showering him with compliments and fueling his ego. Worshipping him as if he was your god. Sometimes he’ll jerk off while you sit and praise him, watching, unable to touch. He’ll torture you like that until you’re about ready to sob. And then he’ll give you everything you want, and more. After he’s had his time being the center of attention, he gives it all to you. Allows you to play the pillow princess/prince/pet and devours and ruins you till you’re shaking and begging for him to stop. He learns all the moves that make you fall apart, and abuses them.

Jongho is absolutely obsessed with physical power. He’ll find every opportunity to manhandle you, no matter when or where you are. He loves to throw you around, loves to play fight/wrestle, and he can’t help but mark you in the places you tell him not to… just because he’s too strong for you to fight back. He fucks you good. Loves to pound you roughly, and then force you to ride him while you’re exhausted. He won’t help you cum, either. He watches you, desperate and dripping as you try to make yourself cum on his cock. His self control is amazing. He’ll stay hard as a rock as you struggle on top of him. But eventually, he’ll hold you up and fuck into you with all of his strength until you cum harder than you ever have before. He abuses your g spot, and twists you into positions that forces you to feel it even better. Nobody can do it like him.

[arrowfleur]

✩‧₊˚ Redacted HC’s ✩‧

I’ve been pretty shit at writing and posting this past year, which is crappy because I enjoy it so I wanted to do something that was less pressure than writing fics but could still make people happy. I’ve put every main redacted couple - plus a few extras - on a spin wheel and will be writing a long list of HC’s each day depending on who I get :)

Anyways, Part 1: Lasko and Dear

Dear loves thrifting but they didn’t want to take Lasko with them at first in case he found something they wanted, before they did. Now they borrow each others clothes so it wouldn’t matter anyway.

When they eventually took him he spent the entire time trying to find things they liked.

Dear has two toned hair

Lasko has never stopped thinking that dear is the coolest person to ever walk the earth, ever.

Sometimes dear wears colour contacts for fun

Both of them have a pocket watch on a chain

For their first anniversary Dear bought Lasko a locket, with a picture of the entire Damn Squad in it.

He added a photo of them to the other side

Dear has pet rats, they take such good care of them and their cage is huge

Lasko was slightly weary at first but he warmed up to them pretty well

Dear is very good at fixing things.

One of the first times they went to his apartment, his Ac broke. Dear just calmly listened to his apologetic rant about it before asking where the toolbox was.

Dear has tattoos behind their ears

Lasko is very good at saving but he’s not tight and always tries to pay for the whole table.

Very rarely has he succeeded

Dear has a collection of paper boy hats.

Lasko wears earmuffs when it’s cold because he always gets earaches

Dear has curled their hair with coke cans before

They love old black and white movies

Lasko likes really crappy b-movies

Can’t be let down if you know it’s going to be bad before it starts

Dear can keep up very well with Damien’s academic discussions and sometimes debates him just for the sake of it. Damien enjoys the challenge.

Dear is not the biggest Christmas enjoyer but this year they’re looking forward to it.

Lasko has booked a couple of Christmas markets for them

Dear HATES the idea of a cruise. Not because of the ocean but because they can’t get off the boat once it sets off.

Lasko always takes those little pots of jam and the little shampoo/conditioner bottles whenever he goes to a hotel

Neither of them can ice skate well whatsoever

Lasko has and will continue to use those little penguins meant for children. Dear finds it fucking hilarious all while they’re clinging to the side of the rink themselves

They share grandpa jumpers

When they first started dating, dear would pretend to forget their lanyard so that lasko would have to go down and let them in.

They both wear lots of rings and love playing with each others hands

Lasko used to wear those fake glasses from Claire’s

Dear is so casually flirty with Lasko that he thought it was just their personality at first

That’s why they eventually just had to go into his office and straight up ask him out

Dear kisses Lasko’s nose often, especially when they’re saying goodbye to each other or he’s severely overthinking

Dear really enjoys those mugs that change colour when you put hot water in them

Lasko has an entire cupboard dedicated to board games

Dear was delighted

Dear reads random niche comics and webtoons

And they have a lot of figurines

Lasko is an unsweetened oat milk enjoyer!!

Dear inhales food like it’s nobody’s business

It doesn’t last five minutes on their plate

They also never get indigestion

Their go-to cocktail is an old fashioned

Lasko hates it

Dear will simply repeat what Lasko says in a teasing tone to fluster him

Or they’ll just randomly start acting like the weirdest story is sexy.

‘And then he, he told me they’d have to charge me more for these stupid tires that I didn’t even ask for!’

‘ and what did you say? 😏

‘Well I- I told him,

‘ did you stick up for yourself? 😏😏

‘ well I told him I wasn’t going to pay for it’

*dear looking him up and down’

‘Good job, I don’t like it when other play dirty with you’

And they’re making out, Lasko doesn’t know how they do it they just have a way. It literally doesn’t even make sense.

Lasko’s hair grows incredibly quick. He shaves ALOT.

His skins is also so beautiful, it’s so soft and clear and glowy.

Dear has acne scars and they do little skincare nights together but Lasko thinks they’re HOT AS FUCK

Okay that’s all, also my proof that I got these guys first

[brattyfork]

chris nsfw headcanons

*these are about sex! if that makes you uncomfy, don’t read!

pink is you! orange is chris!

i shouldn’t have to say this but i feel like i have to: this is ALL CONSENSUAL

- yall already know this man is freaky as hell

- pretty much down to try anything

- having sex 5 or 6 times a week, pretty much anytime yall see each other and are able lol

- always marking you, new hickey every time yall are together

“chris don’t leave marks, people are gonna see”

“good, they’ll know who you belong to”

- you KNOW he loves spanking, loves seeing the handprint he leaves on your ass

-^also as a punishment and he WILL make you count

-makes sure you know your safe word

“what’s your safe word baby?”

“red”

“good girl, don’t be afraid to use it”

- wants to fuck everywhere

- ^every room in the house and in public bathrooms

- always asking for nudes, tries convince you to send them no matter where you are

“chris i’m at work”

“go to the bathroom”

- sending you dirty texts, completely detailing what he wants to do to you

- ^ he does not gaf where you are, you could be at dinner with your grandma, he doesn’t care

- LOVES car sex, especially when you ride him

- will literally tie you up and tease you till you’re crying

“daddy please too much!”

“you want me to stop baby?”

“…”

“that’s what i thought slut”

- LOVES your ass

- man always wants to fuck you from behind

- ^ holding your arms behind your back and pulling your hair

- “that’s my girl”

- will not let you cum until he says so, you literally have to beg him everytime

“daddy need to come please”

“beg me and i’ll consider it”

- gets a hotel room like once a month so he can fuck the shit outta you with no interruptions or distractions

- ^the fanciest room with a big ass bathtub

- big daddy/master kink

- ^try calling him something else in bed and see what happens…

- when it gets too much you try to push him with your hand but he just pins your hands down

“you’re so cute when you try to fight me”

- if you tease him you will be punished no question abt it

- loves when you scratch down his back

- loves when you tell him how big he is

- needs to cum inside you, pussy, ass or mouth, no where else

- loves hand jobs n blowjobs, esp with you on your knees in front of him

“look so pretty on your knees for me”

- loves when you’re needy, likes to see that you want him as much as he wants you

- has fav pieces of clothing and cannot and will not control himself when you wear them

- honestly probably super into breath play, bro wants you turning BLUE

- all the pet names

“such a good whore for me”

“you wanna cum princess?”

“my pretty little slut”

“let go for me pretty girl”

- wouldn’t be surprised if this mf wants you on a goddamn leash

- never lets you take your own clothes off

- hate to break it to you but “your” body is HIS

“this pussy belongs to me”

- always telling you to use your words

- ^wants you to tell him exactly what you want

“i can’t read minds angel”

-literally a god in bed, couldn’t be bad if he tried

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Loose

steddie, omegaverse, first time, unwed mothers’ home steve

It’s 1953, Steve is 16, Nancy is older, getting ready to leave for college early. Steve only realizes because he’s throwing up every day and Carol says it’s just like Tina before she went away last year. Steve is scared, but excited, because Nancy is so smart and pretty, he knows she’ll be able to take care of them, that they’ll have such beautiful babies.

But when he tells her, she immediately says, “We can’t keep it, Steve. It’s not like I’m going to marry you, like I’ll throw away my entire future!”

Steve just cradles his belly, murmurs, “But pups are the future…”

“I’m not having pups now. Everyone knows how desperate you smell all the time, how do I even know it’s mine?”

Steve cries. “I love you, Nance.”

“No, you don’t. We’re just kids.”

Steve doesn’t know what else to do after that, he tells his mother. She yells and throws things, asking, “God! What did I do to deserve this whore for a son?”

She’s mostly calmed down by the time his father comes home from work. Together, they make plans. Steve is sent away to an unwed mothers’ home two days later.

They take away his scent tokens. He doesn’t even get to keep the clothes he brought with him, wearing the same smock dresses as all the other residents.

He befriends a fellow omega, but Chrissy is already 7 months along, so he knows she will be gone soon.

Steve writes letters, begging to be brought home; his letters go unanswered. In reality, they are never sent.

He and Chrissy cuddle, approximating sharing a nest on her slim twin bed, scenting each other. Steve marvels at the feeling of Chrissy’s baby kicking and longs for the moment he will get to feel his own baby move. It happens the day Chrissy goes into labor, and Steve cries at the feeling. Then he cries again three days later when Chrissy comes home from the hospital, her pup taken from her, never even getting to hold him.

Her parents come to take her home that weekend. She promises to write to Steve, but the home matron intercepts those letters and burns them.

Steve rarely comes out of his rooms after that. Which means he’s in there when the janitor comes in to clean. Wayne Munson can’t stand the pain these poor omegas go through. He helped a few omegas procure illegal abortions in his youth, but now he does what he can for these unwed mothers. He sneaks little treats into rooms, especially chocolate. And he listens, offers a sympathetic ear, and to send letters for them.

Over the summer, he gets his nephew, Eddie, a job in the gardens, cutting the grass. And he tells him about Steve, how much the poor boy needs a friend.

Wayne convinces Steve to get outside and get some sunshine. Eddie is quiet, a perfect gentleman, simply waving hello.

Steve waves back, can’t help smiling. “You like going to the movies?” Eddie asks.

“We’re not allowed to leave the property,” Steve answers with a shrug.

“But do you like movies? Because you’ve missed some good ones, and I thought, maybe I could tell you about them.”

“I’d like that.”

Everyday Eddie tells Steve the plot of a movie or a book. He sneaks in the funny pages so they can laugh at the jokes together.

And then one day, Steve’s gone. He had his baby, and the nurses took her away and gave her to a nice, middle class, *married* couple.

Steve’s parents come to fetch him right away, so he doesn’t even get to say goodbye to Eddie. But he leaves a scrap of paper with his address in his room, hoping Wayne will find it.

He does. Eddie’s first letter comes barely a week later. They keep up their correspondence until Steve finishes high school. Then he packs his bags, steals $5000 from his father’s safe, and gets on a greyhound bus to Eddie.

Steve’s heart is in his throat as the Greyhound bus pulls into the Forest Hills station. What if Eddie doesn’t meet him? If he came all this way for nothing. He knows he shouldn’t think that.

But he’s scared. He’s just got a suitcase, and a decent chunk of it is taken up by all the letters Eddie has written him for the past 20 months. So much ink spilt over telling Steve about going out with friends, his job at the mechanic’s garage, all his plans for their future.

Steve wrote just as many letters back, telling Eddie everything as their friendship blossomed into an honest to god romance. He shared every important thought, every hope and dream, and only a little because he didn’t have anyone else to confide in.

He was a loose omega. No one talked about where he’d gone or why, but they all knew. Or their mothers kept them in the dark, simply saying the Harrington boy wasn’t allowed over anymore and they’d do best to stay away from him at school.

It was a lonely life, Steve can’t help worrying that Eddie will abandon him too, no matter how many sweet words and declarations of love are stuffed into his suitcase.

It doesn’t matter. All his worries fly away when he sees Eddie, waiting impatiently, holding a simple bouquet of white carnations, breaking into the biggest smile when Steve gets off the bus. Steve smiles and runs over to him, laughing when Eddie picks him up by the waist and spins him around, relieved to be wearing a girdle to contain the squish on his tummy.

“I missed you,” Eddie says gently, cupping Steve’s cheek.

They haven’t kissed yet, not being ready the last time they saw each other, and now… Steve feels like he’s spilled his very soul to Eddie, but the thought of touching lips has him suddenly shy.

Not Eddie though, he stares into Steve’s eyes, his own dark pools of devotion spilling over with want and holding him in place. Then he leans in.

The kiss is soft and sweet, lips closed. Steve is the one to push for more, to delicately trace his tongue along the seam of Eddie’s lips. That’s all the permission Eddie needs, the hand still on Steve’s waist pulling him in tighter.

Steve would happily kiss all afternoon, but Eddie pulls back with a grin and says, “We’ve got an appointment to keep, Sweetheart.”

Eddie takes him to the courthouse, and they meet Wayne there as their witness. Getting married is almost too easy, and Steve can’t help crying when he finally gets to sign his name as Mrs. Steven Munson. To have a family to love him rather than see him as their deepest shame.

From there, Wayne takes them out to dinner to celebrate, insisting that the newlyweds share the most expensive dessert on the menu. Steve keeps thanking Wayne for all he’s done, the old beta waving him off and assuring that it’s what he’d do for anyone, Steve just comes with the added bonus of making his nephew happy. Eddie squeezes his shoulder, silently promising that it’s true.

Then Eddie brings Steve home to their little apartment. “We’ll start looking for someplace bigger, once you’re settled. I didn’t want to pick a place you didn’t like; I know how important it is for an omega to feel comfortable at home, like it’s the right place for your nest.”

Steve practically pounces on Eddie at that, his desires overwhelming his nerves as they hurry to get out of their clothes, then Eddie freezes, staring at Steve in his bra and panties.

He presses his legs together, moves a hand to cover his soft belly where the elasticated waistband cinches in, flesh spilling over the top, stretch marks faded, but still visible.

He feels loose, and Eddie is just staring until suddenly he’s not. His hands pull Steve’s to the side as he murmurs, “Oh, Stevie, you’re beautiful. More beautiful than I ever imagined.”

“Eddie…”

“You are! My beautiful omega. My pretty wife. I love you no matter how you look, but you are too damn pretty for a fella like me.”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to praise. “You are my handsome husband. I don’t want anyone but you.”

“I love you,” Eddie murmurs, kissing him.

Things slow down as they remove their final layers, Eddie marveling at Steve’s naked body before finally covering him and sinking into the wet heat of him.

They make love, and Steve finally understands why people call it that, all his quick liaisons with Nancy focused on her needs as she pounded into him, the alpha coming as quickly as possible, never knotting him, to keep them from getting caught.

Eddie takes his time, uses his fingers to make Steve spill again after the first round, gently rubbing him from the inside and keeping him filled until they’re ready for round two.

Within the year, they have a little yellow house on a corner, flowers in the garden and a baby in the nursery named for his great uncle. Little Wayne isn’t a replacement for the pup that was taken from him, but Steve adores finally getting to be a mother.

Steve never stops missing his first baby. In 1978, she finds him, calling the house. Steve cries silently as she tells him about herself. Her name is Cathy (he always wanted to name her Marilyn), she grew up in Chicago, and now she’s studying to be a nurse. She asks if he would like to meet her, and he instantly says yes.

Eddie holds his hand as they wait in the little restaurant for her to arrive. They don’t bring the kids, but Steve has pictures to show of Cathy’s siblings. He has an old picture of Nancy, so she can see what her father looked like. Not that she needs one; Cathy looks just like Nancy, down to her button nose.

But all that matters to Steve is the fact that he gets to finally—FINALLY—hold his baby girl.

[bteezxyewriter12]

Wild

Pairing- Namjoon x Named Reader

Word count- 4.2k

Includes- Fingering, Oral, pussy eating, blow job, deepthroating, cum eating, Daddy kink, choking, missionary, cock riding, from behind, name calling- slut, whore, cumslut, choking, rough sex, Dom Namjoon, multiple orgasms, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000 @amyz78 @blueie-things

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Namjoon Masterlist

Namjoon POV

I slide my hand down and grab her ass

She giggles in my mouth as I keep kissing her

“Joonie”, she says softly and keeps kissing me

I slide my tongue back in her mouth and she touches mine with hers

God I fucking love her

She’s has been my girlfriend since we were thirteen

Twelve years

And I’ve never wanted anyone else

Just her

I’m so in love and so fucking whipped for her

She can ask me anything and I’ll do it without hesitation

She’s been my fiancee for a week

I can’t live without her, so I asked her to marry me

And she said yes

I’m aware of how lucky I am to have her

That she stuck with me through everything that comes with being an idol

She never left me, she’s always understanding and she always loved me

I move my hand and start pulling her Koya pj pants down

My girl lives in pjs

She puts them on as soon as she gets home from work

I’ve bough her so many sets and single pieces over the years and she has so many

But her favorite is any of her Koya pjs

She’s so proud that I made up the character and she wants to wear anything with him on it

Shirts, pjs, hoodies, anything

She’s also so proud of me and has so many Namjoon, RM and Rap monster clothes

She proudly wears them and always tells everyone I’m her ultimate bias

No one really knows about her

I convinced BigHit to let me stay with her when I joined if we both promised to keep our relationship a secret

She wasn’t happy about it but she did it anyway

But over the past year, I haven’t been hiding her anymore

I take her out in public with me, hold her hand, kiss her and just be with her openly

Pictures of us have gone viral but BigHit won’t let me make a statement about her

They’ll have to now though

I proposed to her at the place we went on our first date

An amusement park

And there was so many people that saw everything

Pictures of me kneeling and hold the ring to her, her crying and saying yes, us kissing and me putting the ring on her and so much more has flooded the internet

So I’m going to have to say something soon

But for right now, I’m just enjoying kissing and being with her

She lifts her ass up and I pull the pants all the way down and throw them somewhere in the room

Since she’s home, she doesn’t have any panties on

Moving from her lips, I kiss her favorite places on her neck

“Joonie”, she moans, sliding her hand in my hair and pulling it

“Baby girl”, I groan

I love when she pulls my hair

I open her legs and start rubbing her clit

Her body jumps a little but then settles back on the bed while I keep going

“Joonie”

I love making my baby feel good

I love doing anything to her- fingering her, eating her, fucking her

I love making her cum

It’s the best thing in the world

I feel her hand creeping down my body I stop touching her and put her hand and arm around my neck

“Not yet baby. I wanna make you cum”, I whisper in her ear

“Fuck Joonie”, she moans

“Just enjoy baby girl”

I put my hand back on her clit and keep moving my fingers

She whimpers

Her sounds drive me crazy. I love them. I especially love making her scream

Sliding my fingers down, I push them inside her and move them in and out

“Namjoon fuck”

I smile against her neck

Hearing her call my name has to be one of my favorite things in the world

I put my thumb on her clit and rub while I fuck her with my fingers, hitting her spot each thrust in

“God Namjoon”

I lift my head from her neck and watch her

Pleasure is all over her face, her eyes closed and she’s biting her lip, chewing on her side lip ring

I love when she bites her lip

It’s such a turn on

“C'mon baby. I want you to cum so I can eat you out”, I murmur, “You know how much I love how you taste baby”

“Fuck fuck”, she moans

“Gimme it baby”, I ask

Just as I finish talking, her pussy squeezes my fingers and she cums, moaning my name softly, “Namjoon, oh, Namjoon”

“Good girl”, I whisper in her ear

She opens her eyes and looks at me

Taking my fingers out of her, I bring them to my mouth and suck her off them, looking right in her eyes

“My favorite”, I whisper

“Fuck Joonie. You make me so horny”, she groans

“You want me to lick you baby?”, I ask, kissing her lips again

I know how to turn my girl on so much

I know her body so well and I love it

She has a fucking sexy body and I can touch her, lick her and bite her all fucking day and never have enough

“You want my tongue on your pretty pussy baby? You wanna cum in my mouth, on my tongue?”

“Yes Namjoon, fuck yes, yes”, she shouts, so fucking horny

I love getting her this worked up

She’s a fucking animal when she’s this turned on and she fucks me so goddamn good

She always fucks me good but when she’s like this…she’s fucking wild

I pull her shirt off and suck on her nipple

“Uhhh”, she moans

“Baby you gonna watch me eat you out? You know I love when you watch me”

“Yes Namjoon. I love watching you. You eat me out, you're fucking good baby.”

Damn fucking right I do

I kiss her body more, teasing her until she can’t take it

She growls and shoves my head to her pussy, “Lick now Namjoon”

Yes fuck, I love when she’s rough and orders me around

“Namjoon!”, she yells, “Put you’re fucking tongue on me now!”

I listen and attach my tongue to her pussy

Oh god she’s so fucking soaked and her wetness is all over my face

I fucking love it

I moan from how good she tastes

Her skin and her juice tastes good but what I want is her cum

Her cum is so sweet, creamy and I love it

I can’t ever get enough of it

Wrapping my arms around her thighs, I pulling her closer to me

“Fuck Namjoon, I love you’re fucking tongue on my pussy. You’re so good with you’re tongue baby”

“Just for you baby girl”, I answer

I swirl my tongue on her clit and she fucking goes crazy, squirming and screaming

Pleasuring her, sex with her is the most fun I ever have

We both have a high sex drive so we fuck and make love everyday, more than once a day

It’s been this way for years and I wouldn’t have it any other way

I’ll never get tired of her

I suck on her clit and she thrusts her hips up

Yes

I let go of her clit and open my mouth, going back to licking her

“Fuck my mouth baby girl. Do it”, I demand

She moves her hips, thrusting her pussy in my mouth

I glance up and I see her eyes closed, breathing hard

I slap her ass and she looks at me

“I want you to watch me pleasuring you with my tongue baby”

She nods, “Ok. Ok”

Moving my tongue up, I lap at her clit, rubbing the same place over and over

She starts shaking, about to cum

“Cum in my mouth baby girl”, I demand

I lick her clit over and over until she screams and cums in my mouth

“Namjoon!”

I swallow her cum and lick her to get all of it

She relaxes but I want more

I slide my tongue up and down her pussy, enjoying how she feels against my tongue

I want to slide my tongue in her but I want her to tell me to do it

So I keep licking her especially around her hole but not going in

“Joonie”, she cries

“Yeah baby?”, I ask not stopping

“Fuck me baby”

“How Jo? What do you want? Tell me what you want and I’ll do it. You know I’ll always give you what you want”

“Fuck me with your tongue Joonie”, she moans

Thank god

Sliding my hands under her ass, I lift her up and slide my tongue in her

Her pussy instantly tightens on my tongue and I moan from the pleasure it sends through my body

I pull out, then go back in, then pull out and go back in over and over, listening to her screams and I want her cum so much

“Joanne, cum baby”

Sliding my tongue back in, I lick her and she shakes so hard, her cum coating my tongue

Fuck me

So fucking good

Swallowing and licking I make sure I get all of it before pulling away from her

She attacks me, pulling my shirt, pants and boxers off

I get up on my knees and the next thing I know, my cock is in her mouth and she’s going at it like she hasn’t sucked my cock twice already today

I honestly love how much she loves to please me too

It’s not just a one way thing with either of us

We both love getting each other off

We’re both wild, kinky and love trying new things

She deepthroats me and I’m always amazed that she doesn’t have a gag reflex

She can keep all of me in her and be fine

She lets me fuck her mouth hard and she actually likes it

“I love your big cock in my mouth baby”, she says before sliding me all in her mouth

God, she knows how to fucking turn me on too

She knows my body just as much as I know hers

“Fuck my mouth Namjoon. You know you want to baby”

Fuck yes I want to

“Is that what you want Jo? I already fucked your mouth twice today. You want more?”

“I always want your cock Joonie. Don’t you know that by now?”

“Yeah baby I do.”

She gets off me and looks up at me, with puppy eyes

“Please?”, she asks

“Yeah baby”

I pull her hair in a ponytail, wrapping it around my hand

“Open your beautiful mouth baby girl”

She looks up at me, “Ok Daddy”

Fuck me

She knows how much I love it when she calls me that

She’s the best

She smirks at me and leans over to our nightstand

She gets out the collar I got her that says “Daddy’s girl”

She puts it on and gives me the leash that’s attached to the collar

“You wanna tie me up too daddy?”, she asks

Fuck

“Nnn..not today baby. You know where your hands go right?”

She nods then sits on her knees

She puts her hands behind her back, holding them and she opens her mouth

Fuck me, she knows what I want, what I like and always gives it to me

Bringing her head to my cock, I slide her down my shaft until she hits my pelvis

She starts sucking and I love the feeling of her throat closing on me when she swallows

I hook my fingers in her collar, using that to move her head up and down my cock, slow at first, then harder and faster

She moans and sucks the entire time, her tongue licking everywhere

“God baby, you’re mouth and throat are perfect”, I praise her, “You take my cock so well”

She nods and keeps sucking

I don’t know how her mouth and jaw doesn’t get tired but she’s always able to blow me for a long time

I move her off to give her a break but she whines, “More Daddy. Don’t stop. I’m ok, I promise”

“You sure baby?”, I ask

I love her and I don’t want to hurt her

“Yeah daddy. I just want your cum”

“Yeah you naughty girl?”

She looks up at me and licks her lips

Fuck, that’s sexy

“Yea daddy. I’m a bad girl. You’re gonna have to punish me”

“Yeah? Well maybe I won’t give you my cum then”

She smirks at me, “Yes you will daddy. You love coming in your baby’s mouth. And you love punishing me by fucking me hard and stopping before I cum. Over and over”

She knows me so well

“Oh yeah? That’s what you want baby? To deny you your orgasm?”

She nods

“I can do that baby”

“Ok”

“Open your mouth you bad girl. Daddy’s gonna fuck your throat so good”

She looks so excited as she opens her mouth, waiting

Holding her still by her hair, I thrust into her mouth

“Mnmmm”, she moans

“Suck you dirty girl”, I command

She starts sucking while I move my cock almost out of her mouth and thrusting in again

I start moving fast and hard, fucking her mouth like she wants

It feels phenomenal with her sucking and licking me

It doesn’t take long before I’m ready

Slamming her throat again, I scream, coming deep in her throat

She swallows on my cock over and over

I pull out from her mouth

She sucks on my head, getting all the cum off and swallowing again

“You taste yummy daddy. I love your cum”

Pull her up to me I kiss her roughly

“You wanna fuck me daddy?”, she smirks

I do

So much

I’m still hard

After all these years with her I can cum and still be hard for a few times before I can’t do it anymore

But I want to try something else and I want to ask her first

Baby, Jo, I wanna ask you something”

“Yeah Joonie? What’s is it?”, she asks, dropping the daddy kink for now

“Uh I was wondering what you’d think about uh…choking”

She raises her eyebrow, “Choking? You wanna choke me while you fuck me?”

I nod

“Damn Joonie what kind of porn are you watching?”

“C'mon baby, you know I don’t watch porn anymore. Not since we made our own. I just watch our videos all the time instead. I have you anytime I want. I don’t need that”

I thought for sure she was going to say no when I asked her about videotaping us

But she agreed and we’ve made so many

I have them saved on my phone, ipad, computer, her phone, her tablet, her computer

They’re all password protected so no one can get access to them

And we both have them to watch whenever we want, whenever we’re apart and need to get off

Instead of getting off to other people, we do it watching ourselves

She shrugs, “Ok Joonie.”

“Ok?”, I ask

“Yeah Joonie. You can choke me if you want”

“Baby are you sure?”

“Yeah Joonie”, she answers softly, “I trust you baby. I know you won’t hurt me”

She’s the best girl and I’m so lucky to have her

She never says no to anything I ask her, sexual and not

She trusts me with her life

I trust her too

“I won’t hurt you baby. I promise”

She nods, “I know Joonie. I love you”

“I love you Jo”

“I guess I should take of the collar”, she says as she unbuckle it and pulls it off

“You still wanna be daddy?”, she asks

I bite my lip and nod

She smiles her beautiful smile at me

“Come and get me daddy”, she says and her voice is so fucking hot

I growl at her, grab her and slam her on the bed on her back

“Open your legs”, I command

She smirks and slowly opens her legs

I put my hand on her pussy and she’s already so soaked

“My baby’s a little slut huh? Fucking soaking wet and ready for me”

“Yeah daddy. I’m a fucking slut for your cock. I always want you in me, fucking me so good”

I kiss her neck and chest, “My baby likes to fuck huh?”

“Yes daddy. Only you.”

“What do you want baby girl?”

“Fuck me until I can’t walk daddy. I want you to use me anyway you want. Do whatever you want to me. I’ll always like whatever you do daddy”

Jesus, such a turn on

“Good fucking girl”

Gripping her thighs, I bury my cock in her wet pussy

“Yes daddy! Oh fuck”

I start pounding in her mercilessly, listening to her screams of sheer pleasure egging me on

“More Daddy, harder”, she cries

I bend her leg and push until her knee is by her shoulder, slamming my cock inside her tight tight pussy

“Yes oh god yes!”

She’s fucking crazy and I love every minute of it

I move my hand to her throat and she nods

I close my hand around her neck, squeezing

Her moaning cuts off and all I can hear is the sound of me thrusting hard in her

I let go and she breathes

“Fuck daddy, that feels so good”, she cries

“Yeah baby?”

“Yeah daddy. I can feel you’re cock hitting every fucking place and it feels so much better”

I smirk, “So my baby likes to be choked?”

She nods, “Make me cum that way daddy. I want it”

Jesus

I want to so much, but I’m afraid I’ll hurt her

“You won’t hurt me Joonie. I know you won’t. I trust you baby”, she assures me

Seeing the pure trust in her eyes makes me nod

“Ok baby. But if it hurts or it’s too much, pull my arm off or do something and I’ll let go, ok?”

She nods, “I will. Now fuck me hard daddy. I want to cum on your hard cock”

I moan and thrust into her

Grabbing her ankles, I open her legs wide, while I get on my knees and pound her pussy

“Fuck daddy, you feel so good. I love your cock”

“Good baby”

I move my hand back to her neck and squeeze

The pure pleasure on her face amazes me

She really likes it

I slam in her a few times before I let go of her neck

She breathes in and smiles at me

Fuck, I love her

Thrusting again I slam her spot and she screams again

“Yes daddy. There. Fuck me. There!”, she shouts

I listen and fuck my baby girl where she wants it

“Daddy, I’m gonna..”, she yells, “Choke me now!”

She grabs my hand and puts it on her neck

I squeeze right before she cums

I watch her in fucking awe

Her body jumps and arches so high off the bed, her hands twisting the sheets under her, and she’s screaming silently

And her pussy

Oh god, she’s clenching me so goddamn hard and coming so much, a huge creamy mess all over me

I let go of her neck and her scream shatters the silence

“Namjoon! Namjoon!”

“Fuck baby”, I moan, fucking her through her orgasm

After she’s done, she sits up, pulls me out and slams me on my back

Fuck, she’s so strong normally, but she has crazy strength when she’s this wild

Before I know what’s happening, I’m inside her and she’s fucking my cock so hard

My hands on her hips, I watch her ride me so roughly

I love it

When she slams so hard like this, I go in so deep and I feel pure pleasure through my whole body

She’s bouncing so hard on me and so fucking fast

I feel her getting ready to cum

“C'mon baby girl. Cum on daddy’s cock.”

She moans and I wrap my hand around her neck again, squeezing

She doesn’t stop, just keeps going

I’m about to let go to let her breath when she slams her hand on mine and shakes her head

She squeeze her hand over mine telling me what she wants

I’m reluctant because she hasn’t breathed yet but I do it and squeeze

She slams herself down on me and I feel her cum all over me

It feels amazing

Her body shakes and I let go of her neck

She screams in pure ecstasy, her head thrown back and holding onto my arms

“God baby, you’re fucking gorgeous”, I yell

Her pussy has my cock in a vice grip, ecstasy roaring over me as I cum hard inside her

Her screams die down and slowly she lowers her head, looking at me

I suck in a breath at how fucking hot she is

Her hair falls in her face on either side, her beautiful brown eyes full of passion and biting her lower lip, breathing hard

I’m fucking hard again

Fuck I want her now

I move, throwing her back and roughly position her on her hands and knees

I take her, ramming my cock in her and she screams in more pleasure

Slamming in her and wrapping her hair around my hand again I pull hard and her head moves back

“You like how hard I’m fucking you baby girl?”

“Yes, yes”, she moans

“Can’t get enough can you, my little whore”

“No daddy. Not from you”

I pull her hair more, forcing her to get on her knees, her back to my chest

“Well daddy loves being in his slut”, I whisper in her ear

“Yes, yes”

She’s in so much pleasure that she has no clue what’s going on

I love making her like this, love fucking her out, making her my cock slut

I move one hand to her clit and play with her while fucking her

“Oh god, oh”

I feel her close again

“Does my whore want to cum again?”

“Yes, yes, I want to cum again!”

“You came so much already. You’re being a greedy slut now”

“Yes yes I am. I want it. Please daddy give it to me. I’m a good girl, please”

“Oh? I thought you were a bad girl? You said you were before. I thought you wanted me to punish you. Fuck you hard and pull out before you cum remember?”, I remind her, ploughing into her cunt, wrecking her pussy on my length

“No daddy. I’ll be your good girl, your good slut. I promise. I don’t want to be punished anymore. Please”

Letting go of her hair, I put my hand on her neck and push her head against my shoulder

“Then cum, slut”, I whisper and close my hand on her throat

She shudders and I have to hold her against me so she doesn’t fall when she explodes

Her hand is clutching my hip so hard and her nails on her other arm are digging in my arm that’s around her neck

“Yeah, good whore. I make my slut cum so hard. Don’t forget who makes you cum so good”

She shakes her head

When she’s done, I let go of her neck

Then I roughly push her face down on the bed, holding her down

She gets on her knees while I hold her front body down by the back of her neck

“My turn slut. Now I get to cum in you’re pretty pussy again”

“Yes daddy, please, do it”, she cries, voice horse

Shit

Maybe I choked her to hard

Suddenly I feel her slam herself against me

“You stopped moving daddy. Fuck me. Please”, she begs

I snap my hips in her and she screams in the bed

I hit her spot again causing more yelling

I concentrate in that spot, slamming over and over, her cunt squeezing the life from my dick, feeling so fucking amazing

I feel her getting ready for another orgasm

“C'mon you fucking cum slut, I know you want to cum again. Do it”, I egg her on

“Yes yes yes!”, she screams, releasing on me again

Her cum covers my cock and I love watching more and more slide on me

“Again”, I yell, slamming her hard, “Hands behind your back”

Her hands fly behind her back and I grab both wrists in mine, holding tightly, ruthlessly fucking her in the mattress

“Fff…fuck!”, she screams, coming instantly

“Baby I’m…”

“Cum Namjoon. Cum in me baby!”, she yells

I can’t take it

I slam in her once, and hold her on my cock by her hips while I explode inside her, sheer pleasure blinding me

Her pussy pulsates on me, taking all my cum

I pull out and collapse next to her

She immediately snuggles closer to me, putting her head on my shoulder and her arms around me, getting as close as she can

I hold her to me, rubbing her back and giving her kisses anywhere my lips can land

“Sleepy Joonie”, she says

I can’t help but smile

“Ok baby.”

There’s something else I want to say

“Jo, I’m sorry if I went too hard. If I choked you too hard. If I was too harsh with the name calling

She lifts her head and looks at me, “You didn’t baby. It didn’t hurt. I loved it baby. I told you you wouldn’t hurt me. And you know I like when you’re rough. The name calling doesn’t bother me. I like it. I know you don’t mean it”

I know she likes it rough but still

“Are you sure-”

“Yes Namjoonie, I’m sure love. Don’t worry.”, she assures me as she snuggles back to me, “Sleepy time now Joonie?”

"Yeah baby"

“I love you Joonie”

“I love you Jo”, I answer, kissing her forehead

She tightens her arms around me and we both fall asleep, in each others arms

[apoemaday]

I Want the World

by Brenda Shaughnessy

You never know, when you say goodbye, if it’s the last time. Last time for who? For what?

Every time is the last — for that particular goodbye, wearing those clothes, at that airport. Me in my black dress — nightgown, fifties housecoat, funeral uniform. It passes for anything.

My daughter in her fuchsia track shorts and faded green t-shirt almost as soft as her luscious little arms. She was complaining, as usual. She was hungry. She was tired of traveling.

Her complaints were especially unpleasant since they only pointed up how innocent she was of how bad everything could get. The Legos are boring? Imagine no toys of any kind.

The chicken nuggets are too hot? Just wait. They’ll cool and by then, I hope she can learn to like lizard blood and shoelace chewing gum, because that’s what’s coming.

A fierce zip of pride bites my heart. She demands more because she knows there’s more in the world and she believes she should have it all. She knows what she wants: what she wants.

She believes the world is coming to her, not veering definitively away. She still thinks we can choose between ice cream flavors, bless her that she has so many possible flavors in mind.

Between stuffed animals and dolls. Which color lunch box you want for the whole school year. What school year? I think. Will first grade exist this coming fall?

She still thinks that what she thinks will affect what she gets. She still believes tantrums might get her her way. She doesn’t know yet that nobody gets her way.

We’re all lucky if we get anything at all, come dinnertime, come night, the next morning and the next hot morning, the next endangered livingspace if we get to stay there. We can’t carry all that stuff. But she doesn’t think of it as stuff.

She thinks of it as what she wants. Life’s been consistent — me resisting her demands, me in my black dress, cutting my hair to make her paintbrushes. If something happens to me, who will help her believe her beliefs?

She believes her desires — as erratic and irrational as a six-year-old’s desires can be — nevertheless have intrinsic value. A thread of hope wound, inextricable, all around and through her very person. I believe that, too.

One of these mornings I’ll say goodbye, a routine goodbye when I go to the FedPlex warehouse to work or pick my rations, and in my absence she will lose that thread, come to fully understand what she wants is impossible in our world.

All of it, any of it, the tiniest thing, impossible.

I won’t have known but I’ll be walking away from my daughter for the last time, coming home (wherever home is) to someone new, someone broken off from my old girl, six years old.

Here, I tell her, providing a pencil with a pristine, unsharpened end, chew on this. Nobody’s touched it yet. It’s all yours, darling.

Somewhere I’ll find a blade to sharpen it, and we’ll find a scrap for drawing, a bit of napkin or a smooth, light stone. For now, you can chew on it. Soon you’ll be able to draw whatever you want.

[danikamariewrites]

Can u write a rhysand or azriel or maybe both in which there both in a ddlg relationship where they give reader princess treatment and and she just wants to be good for them

Ddlg poly!Batboys x reader

A/n: I thought we’d throw Cass in there too bc I simply couldn’t resist 😂

Warnings: ddlg, pet names, nsfw themes, and slight violence

Being with all 3 of them is amazing but tough at first

Rhys Cass and Az would all be so competitive for your attention

Eventually you guys figure out a routine and are comfortable with each other

The first time you call them all daddy they’re so happy bc all they want is to keep you safe and happy. They love the deep trust you have with them

Sometimes for fun or when you want their attention you just call out “Daddy!” From whatever room your in just to see which one of the boys will get to you first

Rhys cheats and winnows to where ever you are while Cass and Az basically fight each other to get through the door first

There are times when you want to be around one of them more than the others

You always feel bad bc you don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings but they’ve told you a million times that they don’t care as long as you’re happy

You spend a lot of time with Rhys since Cass and Az go away a lot

When they come back you get very clingy with them

Cass can be the clingiest out of the 3 especially if he’s been in Windhaven for a while

He will carry you around the house and keep you on his lap all day

“Need my sweetheart with me. I missed you so much I can’t get enough of you.” He’d say when you ask why he’s carrying you

It’s rare that they have a bad day. Stressful, yes, but they can always bounce back

They do confide in you and you love being there to comfort them

Az is usually the one who can be down sometimes after a mission and you always make him feel better

Azriel would be brooding in one of the big Illyrian arm chairs in a sitting room no one else uses in the house of wind when you find him

He’d be so lost in thought he wouldn’t even hear you come in

You’d be a little shy, worried you’re bothering him

Approaching Az you lay your hand gently on his shoulder. He looks up at you with tired eyes and a small smile, “hi daddy,” you whisper. “Can I sit with you?” Azriel pulls you onto his lap and buries his face in the crook of your neck breathing in your scent

“I know this mission was hard for you Azriel, but I’m here for you. In whatever way you need me.” Azriel hugs you tighter to his body. “Thank you princess. I feel better already.”

You two just sit there and you play with his hair as you whisper sweet nothings to each other

When Rhys and Cass find you, you’ve fallen asleep holding on to each other

If you’ve had a bad day the boys drop everything to tend to you

Your typical bad day remedy is a nice bath, Cassian massaging your shoulders, wearing their comfy clothes, cuddling with Rhys as Azriel reads to you

Cassian will make you hot cocoa (I’m convinced he’s a good chef, anything he makes is delicious and he has a great hot chocolate recipe you can’t change my mind)

If you’ve had a really bad day and your crying they immediately want to know who or what made you so upset so they can take care of it

You came home crying your eyes out one day after you had hung out with your friends bc someone cat called you on the way home and Azriel was ready to murder the male

Rhys reigned him in while Cass held you on the couch

They did find the male and beat him up

The boys each have a different nickname for you

Rhys calls you darling (obvi), Cass calls you sweetheart, and Az calls you princess but when it comes to sex I think they all call you bunny

The 3 of them give you nothing but princess treatment all the time

They wait on you hand and foot and buy you whatever your heart desires

They’re always gentle with you too. They’ll never raise their voices at you, they never get mad at you, or manhandle you (unless you want them to)

They hate being strict with you

When they are strict with you they either punish you or give you a stern talking to

You try not to be a brat, that gets you the worst punishment

Yes, you have rules and you rarely break them. You do like to push their buttons sometimes by saying no and stomping around the house when you’re in a bad mood. Rhys, Cass, and Az hate when you don’t tell them what’s wrong

Your typical punishment differs on which bat boy is in charge. With Rhys he shows you memories of when you’re being pleasured by them until you’re so needy you’re on your knees apologizing and begging them to touch you. Cass favors cockwarming or spanking until you’re practically crying needing them. Azriel uses his shadows to tie you up lightly touching you, leaving you in bed all day until they think you’ve had enough

All you want is to be good for them but sometimes you just can’t help yourself

When you are good they always reward you with your favorite dessert or take you shopping or new books

Rhys loves to give extravagant surprises like romantic dates or vacations

Time with each of them is different bc they each like different things

Rhys loves to take you out to eat or walk in town

Cassian will always work out with you, he was hell bent on training you when the relationship first started so you’d be able to defend yourself on the off chance none of the boys are there to defend you

Azriel is happy to do whatever you want to do. Usually you like when he reads to you cuddled up on the couch

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Trunk or Treat with The Yandere Student Council Pt. I

Based Off the OCs in this Post

“Alright everyone let’s start talking about ideas!” 

“Uhm do you mean ideas for what to do with Halloween coming?”

“Oh no darling, we always do a Trunk or Treat kind of thing.”

“We are talking about our costumes.”

As bizarre as it sounds the college’s students look forward to the costumes of the student council

Allowed to enjoy whatever festivity that comes with their choice

For reference they share that last year they had a ‘kiss–in–the–coffin’ booth for their shared vampire costumes

“J-j-just so you know the kisses were on the cheek only!”

“I didn’t ask but okay.”

It set the precedent for this year to be just amazing if not better

“Since we have you now (Y/n) we should have something special that welcomes you in!”

“I-i-i-i think that’s a great idea.”

“I’m all for it too!”

Despite your protests, in fear of being singled out by their fans your haters they forge on

“They won’t be bothering you. Not on my watch.”

“You say that but–”

“Seriously (Y/n) believe us! We’ll make sure there won’t be any problems.”

“And if there are we will kill them.”

“What?!”

“Joking. Joking.”

They’re not

Anyway it was decided on that the council will be Ghostly Royalty

Which makes costumes really easy or so you thought 

According to Min, quite a large part of the budget went into your costumes

“Pick your jaw up (Y/n)! This is the best part! You don’t think we get this big of a budget without showing off, do you?”

“Still…it feels a bit overkill…especially when I don’t have a fan base at all.”

“Ohhh that’s what you think–ow!” 

“Roman, always such an optimistic chatterbox. Always saying things that are not true.”

Lucoa takes the role of the king naturally

Spencer is forcefully given the role of the queen

Min takes the role of the dungeon master, despite his meek character

Roman takes the role of an advisor

Gil as a duke

June as a duchess

“Wait so what am I?”

“Our dragon.”

“What?!”

“We wanted to put a spin on the old system!”

“But that isn’t really accurate…nor does it really fit the ghost royalty theme.”

“.....”

“....”

“So? We’re doing fantasy ghosts then.”

In your opinion, it's just an excuse to make your costume as ridiculous as they please

“This is an early draft of your costume.”

“What!? Wait where are the actual clothes? I’m just seeing gold necklaces and bangles.”

“...That was the idea.”

“I’m not wearing that if there aren’t actual clothes underneath there.”

“...But it will ruin the integrity of the design and disrupt the choreography and–”

“Then hide it under the gold! I’m not going to be half-naked for the entire school.”

“...I will consult the President.”

You owed him a favor after that

Saying you agreed to this as an honorary member

But when you’re not having to fight Gill on your costume designs

You are helping the others

“June…this is just a dress.”

“Right, it’s a perfect occasion to wear it. And don’t my hips feel and look great.”

Adjusting the golden belt meant to hang off his waist you try to ignore how his poses requires that he touch you in some way shape or form

“Well yeah but don’t you feel like your fans would want you in something else?”

“Oh baby! You don’t have to worry, they love this sort of thing.”

And helping with their research

“Roman I know you never seem to run out of ideas to hang out but why a medieval diner?”

“It's for research! By the way, how do you like the food? I made sure the critiques were as positive as they could get.”

“Roman.”

“Yes?”

“Why did that waitress, compliment our relationship?”

“OMG they brought another plate of bread and for free? So cool.”

“Roman!”

Or helping organize their booths

“So Spencer what are you going for?”

“A kind of dunk tank except it drops on me.”

“Oh okay….this says that you’re not actually using water but…oil?”

“Yeah Lucoa suggested I show off my scars and muscles.”

“Wait you have those?”

“Hahaha very funny but seriously give me your opinion.”

“Oh wow….yeah, I think they’ll like it…no they’ll love it.”

“Oh really? Well, thanks!”

As if he didn’t already know

But eventually as the date comes closer it comes time to focus on your booth

But it seems that as an honorary member you don’t get to have much control over your own booth

Or any decision involving your event

“Hey Min what are you building over there?”

“Oh this is the art for your exhibit. Lucoa put me in charge of matching the gold from your costume to the setting around there.”

“Aw thanks can I help?”

“N-n-no!”

“Oh.”

“S-s-s-sorry the President gave us explicit instructions not to include you in the making of it. I’m r-r-r-r-really so sorry!”

“It’s fine Min, don’t worry about it.”

It’s just so apparent how little you would be included in your own activity no one really bothered to hide that fact from you

“Hey Gill this meeting on your calendar, I don’t remember getting your usual reminder for it.”

“That is because you are not invited to it.”

“Don’t be sad (Y/n)~Afterwards we can just come visit you after.”

“No no that’s okay I’ll just take the day off then. Catch up on homework.”

“Aw~ Don’t be like that we’ll come over to your house after.”

“No I’m not sad. I’m going to be happily doing my homework alone!”

“Putting that on our private calendar: Going to (Y/n)’s house an hour after the meeting.”

At the end of the day you’re just as surprised when the event begins and they shove you in the room under the stage with nothing but a warning not to move from the chair you’re in:

Part 2