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#he wants to smother me with a pillow
drawbauchery · 8 months
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instructions unclear
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Thé hyperfixation is spreading
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h2llish · 6 months
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we're starting my rambles with riddle, my love <3
there's a lot about riddle to unpack honestly. his mother was super controlling, and he was sheltered his whole life. he wasn't allowed friends, and he obviously didn't have much of an impactful male figure in his life. his parents don't seem to get along and that's me assuming his parents are even together anymore. and he also had to live up to a perfect expectation his mother put on him. like holy shit, that's a lot.
he doesn't know how to hold decent conversation, can't understand some social cues, and if you haven't noticed, he kind of struggles with maintaining friendships.
coming from someone whose been sheltered by a pretty controlling mother (and step-father, kinda), i can say i totally understand. while my mother didn't have a name to herself and she was a sahm (stay at home mom) so she never held many expectations, she still sheltered and controlled my siblings and i. for the longest time, like riddle, i hadn't realized that what my mother was doing wasn't right or normal. she prevented me from making decent relationships, ultimately ruining my social skills entirely and giving me enough insecurities to cover five(+) of me. i was fortunate enough to have my siblings to rely on, but it became unhealthy and none of us know how to handle real relationships/friendships when we're faced with them. even now, at 18, i remain under her control because of how sheltered i was growing up that the very thought of living without that control is terrifying.
now you take what i just told you about my controlling mother and you add that to riddle's life, you'll see just how shitty his childhood must've been. he didn't even know his mother was controlling until he overblots, he remained completely unaware of his trauma until the chaos of it built up into a meltdown. the only friendships he did have were forbidden when his mother learned he was interacting with other children, and with their leave so went his ability to learn proper, healthy, means of coping and social relationships.
and even after he became aware of the trauma of it all, he can't exactly change at the snap of a finger. he has to unlearn all the unhealthy aspects of what his mother taught him and learn more proper ways of dealing with anything.
and his temper? he probably learned that from his mother. you guys seen the way she acted when she learned her only son was making friends. it is very possible for a child to learn and take on qualities from their parents/guardians and he probably learned his anger from her. and to add to that, he never learned to properly cope with his own emotions under his mother's rule, so his anger is far more uncontrolled.
and i haven't even gotten to his insecurities and shit.
now im going to exclude his height here for obvious reasons (we all know how he is).
riddle probably fails to realize he even has insecurities. his trauma as a "golden" (only) child is enough to cloud the part of your brain that recognizes when you are feeling insecure. he still has so much to learn about himself, and that includes the insecurities that come with his childhood.
insecurities are actually pretty difficult to touch with him as it could be a number of things, and this is all guesswork, assumptions, observations; you can't know for sure. but i'm going to say what i think.
he's relearning everything from new, so i imagine that must make him a little insecure. to live under your mother's rule and then have a complete breakdown over it? someone like him would absolutely be embarrassed if they had to unlearn everything their mother taught them just so they could learn more healthy topics and methods.
he has a fear of failure; absolutely no one can say otherwise because it is so obvious. before his overblot, the stress of continuing to live up to the expectations his mother gave him was a weigh down and added to his blot build up. and after his overblot, he can't exactly break from that mentality. regardless of how much he may try or how much help someone may give, that sort of mentality that's been added to and built on for years cannot be easily broken. it's been shaped so much it might as well be comparable to a full concrete fortress of, "must pass this", "not good enough", and "she'll be disappointed".
he fears disappointment from other people. now listen, i know this one might seem far-fetched. he was and still sort of is dedicated to pleasing his mother, and absolutely sucks at forming decent relationships with other people because of poor social skills. but he is the housewarden of heartslabyul. he has definitely placed expectations on himself that he believes should be met and if they aren't he fears he's let down everyone in the dorm. what good of a queen is he if he can't live up to the quotas and expectations, he's set for himself? if he can't meet every rule? if he does not keep his dorm in the position of best?
he has the nagging insecurity and overall fear of never being good enough. whether that be with his mother, his friends, or future partners. he fears he will never meet someone's expectations and fail to be good enough for them. and this leads to my next statement, loneliness. his only friends were forbidden from him, and he's had no one but his mother until nrc. but even then, no one has been that close to him except try and che'nya so i imagine he must get lonely. and after his overblot, i assume that loneliness must have reached a suffocating point now that he knows about how wrong his mother's behavior was.
now to end this ramble and listen to me on this one ━ he's insecure. that's it. he's insecure about himself, his height, his trauma; everything. he's insecure.
overall, there is just so much to him and i just think people need to think about that when they refer to riddle. he's not just his anger and obsessive need for perfection; he's someone still learning his trauma and trying to better himself.
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girlwithfish · 5 months
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i said everyone in dark is so physically aggressive so casually they always will b grabbing each other or pushig each other against walls LOLL he said we dont have to watch if its too much or somethin i thought it was funny okei
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makismei · 2 months
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“stay on it,” he breathes, arms circling around you to keep you on his cock. his lips brush against your chest, lightly nipping at the skin.
“satoru, i can’t!” you whine, legs shaking as you try to get off his lap. “‘s too much, I’m gonna cum again!”
satoru doesn’t even bother pulling out when he thrusts, just grinding his dick into you while he watches you fall apart. “you like it baby, come on.”
head falling onto his shoulder, he bites back a grin as he thrusts up. your eyes are rolling back, feeling him pound into you from below. you don’t think you can take it anymore, but it’s all you want.
he isn’t wrong when he says you like it.
your hands slap his shoulders, not able to do much as he manhandles you to bounce on his dick. “satoruuu, fuck, oh my god!”
legs shaking, he manoeuvres you to lay on your back. throwing your ankles over his left shoulder, he continues to thrust into your cunt, hitting your g-spot with ease.
“give me some more, pretty.” he grins, “you’re not done until i say you are.”
you hate how he’s so good at keeping you pinned, but then again, when he uses his strength to keep you pliant, you’re practically looking up at him with hearts in your eyes.
“what a slut,” he laughs, “you like this.”
you nod furiously, “mmm, i love it!”
moving one of your ankles to his other shoulder, he leans down, smothering your face in chaste kisses.
burying his face into the crook of your neck, gojo starts slamming his hips into you. your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer.
you feel like your eyes are crossing as he forces orgasm after orgasm out of you. your legs are quivering while he continues to poke and prod everywhere you’re sensitive.
“so good for me,” he says, breath tickling your ear, “i could have you like this all day, baby.”
he feels you clench down on him and he sloppily kisses your cheek, “i feel it baby, give it to me.”
“satoruuu, ‘s too big,” you cry, “i think ‘m gonna make a mess!”
he shushes you, calming you down by cupping your face in his hands, keeping your eyes on him. his thrusts don’t slow, feeling his release. “‘s okay, don’t worry—i’m gonna cum baby, where—”
“insideee!” you whine, “need it inside!”
he cums the second he hears you and you follow, squirting all over his abdomen. he drops majority of his weight onto you, feeling his cock go limp inside your cunt. he presses a kiss to your temple, praising you softly.
when he pulls out, he props your hips up with a pillow, keeping your legs spread so he can admire the mess.
whistling lowly, he thumbs at your slit.
your legs immediately twitch, whining. “no more, please.”
he nods, laughing, “‘s okay baby, ‘m just looking.”
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theemporium · 7 months
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[2.6k] following the aftermath of the impromptu vegas wedding, little leclerc and max navigate married life. and charles is still not coping well with the whole situation.
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“Does this mean I get to sit in the Red Bull garage in Abu Dhabi?” 
Charles’ head snapped around, his jaw clenched and his nostrils flaring. And if he wasn’t currently on hold with the fifth lawyer he had contacted in the last hour, you could’ve sworn he would’ve jumped over the bed and smothered you with the pillow you were currently holding to your chest. 
“Don’t give me that look,” you muttered as you rolled your eyes. “Maybe I want a change of scenery. I’m always in the Ferrari garage.”
“You’ve seen the Alpha Tauri and the Alpine garage too,” Charles retorted. 
You shot him a blank look. “That’s because you have Pierre watching over me like a stalker.” 
“No, he’s just being your friend,” your brother tried again. 
“So him barking at the mechanic who was just getting me water had nothing to do with the promise you made him keep?” You countered, watching as a flush of pink spread across Charles’ cheeks. 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he scoffed with a dismissive wave of his hand. 
“Liar, Pierre told me about the promise,” you mused, watching as his face burned even brighter at your admission. 
As it would turn out, finding a last minute lawyer to completely null and break the marriage was much harder than Charles ever intended it to be. And after he was practically forced to halt his attempts until the race had passed, the high of P2 didn’t seem to thwart your brother’s efforts in completely shattering the connection between you and Max Verstappen. 
He had spent every free and waking moment trying to sort out the mess, including now contacting lawyers back in Monaco to get involved. And yet, the boy seemed to be getting nowhere. 
“Shouldn’t you be focused on the last race of the season instead of this mess anyways?” You continued as your eyes glanced over at the clock on the wall. “We need to leave for the airport soon. I don’t think they are going to hold the jet because you’re phoning divorce lawyers—even if you’re Charles Leclerc.” 
“You seem eager to stay married to him,” Charles grumbled under his breath as he narrowed his eyes at you. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Was this planned? Have you been seeing him for a while now?” 
“Are you hearing yourself right now?” You shook your head, letting out a huff as you pulled the pillow closer to your chest. “How come Yuki isn’t getting as much shit as I am?” 
“Because Yuki is not my sister,” he stated simply, pausing for a moment before he continued. “Plus, Yuki and his partner seem very happily married.” 
You perked up a little. “Wait, you know who he married?” 
“Well no,” Charles admitted, his brows furrowing together. “But he must be, no? He’s been happy ever since the wedding. They must be keeping it private.” 
“Apparently he didn’t even tell Pierre,” you said to your brother, leaning back against the headboard with a sigh. “Maybe he’s embarrassed with who he married.” 
“Can’t be more embarrassing than marrying you—OW!” 
“Don’t say stupid things then,” you snapped back at him with an innocent smile on your face. “You’re just pissed I got married before you.” 
Charles’ glare hardened. “No, I’m pissed because you got married in Vegas of all places.” There was a pause. “And the fact you practically married a stranger!”
“Max is hardly a stranger, you’ve known him since you were like five years old!” You argued back.
“Still a stranger!”
“You are so dramatic,” you commented. “Maman accepted it, why can’t you?”
“Maman is confused,” Charles muttered with a crease between his eyebrows. 
You raised your brows. “Did you say that to her?”
Charles’ face paled a little. “Well no—”
Your grin widened.
Charles blanched. “Don’t you dare!”
You cackled as you reached for your phone. “This is payback for disrespecting me and my husband!” 
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“I don’t understand why I have to be blindfolded.”
“It’s a precaution insisted by Christian.”
“Do all wives have to be blindfolded then?”
“The ones with the former name Leclerc do.”
You pressed your lips together to hide your smile as you wrapped your arms around Max’s bicep, letting him lead you into the Red Bull garage with the black cloth tied over your eyes. You knew you probably didn’t have long until Charles came running to drag you out of the Red Bull garage and back to the red side, so you took up Max’s offer in the meantime. 
You didn’t count on Christian Horner being two steps away from Red Bull’s very own Christian Grey to his garage guests. 
“Does this mean I get to blindfold you when you come to the Ferrari garage?” You asked, your voice lighthearted and your tone teasing. 
“It is one of the scenarios I would let you blindfold me,” Max answered and it took everything in you to not suddenly halt your steps. 
“Max Verstappen, you little flirt,” you said as you let out a disbelieving laugh, hoping the boy hadn’t turned back to look at you when you could feel your face heating up. 
“You’re my wife. Surely I’m allowed to flirt with you now,” the Dutchman retorted, his hands moving to rest over yours as you two finally came to a stop. 
“You’re saying you wouldn’t have flirted with me before?” 
“That feels like a trick question,” Max snorted before his fingers nimbly undid the knot behind your head, letting the blindfold fall away from your eyes as he stood in front of you with an almost smug look on his face. “But I would have flirted with you if I didn’t think your brother would have my balls for it.”
“So you just married me instead,” you retorted with a smile of your own.
“What can I say, I don’t half-ass things,” he said with a casual shrug of his shoulders.
“I should have known you give the vibes of a Vegas wedding kinda guy,” you remarked as you blinked a few times, getting used to the shift in light as you began looking around the garage. It didn’t look too different from the Ferrari garage, but it was still intriguing to witness it all. 
A different team. A different car. A different work ethic. 
After so many years with Ferrari, it felt like being in a foreign country as you stood amongst so much blue.
“What kind of wedding would you have wanted?” 
The question snapped you out of your daze, whirling your head around to look at the Dutchman with a curious expression. You waited to see if a witty remark was going to follow, but he continued to stare at you expectantly and you realised he was genuinely waiting for an answer.
“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “I mean, I know my mother always wanted me to have a fairytale wedding at some pretty venue in a white dress and—”
“I didn’t ask what wedding your mother would have wanted, I asked what wedding you would have wanted,” Max interrupted, and your lips parted a little in surprise. 
“A fun one,” you replied. 
Max’s brows furrowed together. “A fun one?”
“Yes, a fun one. You asked me what wedding I would want and it’s a fun one,” you repeated with a nod of your head, smiling a little at the visible confusion written across his face. “Everybody always talks about weddings being so intense and stressful and that’s just…not me. I don’t care about where it is or what season it’s held in. I would just want to be with the people I love and I want to have a good time.” 
He nodded, his lips pressed together as though he was processing your answer. “Surely the Vegas wedding fits that.”
“It would have if my family and friends were there,” you said, laughing a little. “Despite the dinner invite, Maman will probably string me up for not getting married with her there.”
Max’s eyes widened comically. “Wait, she was serious about that?” 
You snorted. “She’s already sent me the menu.”
“I am actually having dinner with your mother?” Max hissed and, for the first time in your life witnessed with your own eyes, you could have sworn he looked nervous.
“She won’t bite,” you laughed. 
“Oh my god, I am meeting your mother.”
“Well, she does want to meet the man I married.” 
“Oh my god, I am meeting your mother as your husband.”
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“Be honest: would you have made me a bridesmaid at your wedding?” 
You blinked, looking up from the burrito bowl you had managed to grab from Ferrari’s catering before you looked at the blond across from you. 
“Or a bridesman. Whatever you call it,” Logan continued as he looked at you expectantly. 
You stared at the American with a fairly blank expression, though it didn’t seem to do much to his eagerness for you to answer the question. Though, you didn’t know why you were surprised about the whole thing. The last week had been Logan throwing random questions at you, Arthur laughing at your facial expressions and Oscar deeply sighing at the whole interaction. 
“You weren’t even invited to the wedding,” Oscar pointed out, poking about the salad bowl he had. 
“Neither were you,” Logan retorted.
“And thank god for that, Lando showed me the pictures,” Oscar grumbled with his nose scrunched up. “I would have been traumatised for life if I witnessed it with my own two eyes.” 
“Hey,” you frowned, kicking your foot out under the table until you hit his shin. “You know what, I’m suddenly excited not to see either of you during the winter break.”
Oscar snorted. “Sure.” 
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Logan piped up, his attention shifting to you once again. “Would you let me?”
“Depends,” you answered honestly as you leaned back in your seat. “Would you want to do a speech?”
Logan scoffed. “Obviously.”
“Then no,” you replied almost instantly.
The boy gaped at you. “What? Why not?”
“Because I don’t trust you,” you stated simply before you glanced over at Oscar too. “Neither of you, if I’m being honest.”
Oscar’s brows furrowed together. “Woah, what did I do?” 
“Existed,” you grumbled under your breath, only for the Australian to be the one to kick your shin under the table this time. “Ouch!”
“Not so fun, is it?” He grumbled back at you. 
“You didn’t even have a speech at your wedding! Surely no speech is worse than a bad one,” Logan added, far too invested on a speech you doubted he could even write.
“That’s not true. Yuki did a speech,” you told him.
Both boys’ raised their eyebrows. “He did?”
“Probably, seems like something he would do,” you shrugged. 
“Or maybe his partner gave it,” Oscar added. “Whoever that may be.”
“I can’t believe he still won’t tell us,” you said with your lips turned downwards. “In the Red Bull garage, Christian even asked him and he just giggled before running off.” 
“Maybe he’s a private guy.”
“You were in the Red Bull garage?” 
“Your difference in priorities are baffling,” you noted with an amused expression. “Yes, I was in the Red Bull garage. And Yuki being a private person is a load of bullshit. He’s the biggest gossip on the grid, he’s just sneakier than everyone else.”
“Which means he would hide it better,” Oscar pointed out. 
“At least Yuki would let me say a speech at his wedding,” Logan muttered under his breath.
“Would he though?”
“Shut up.” 
“I’m just saying—”
“You know what, I hope Lando scars you with more photos from her wedding,” Logan threatened, staring at the Aussie with narrowed eyes.
“Hey, my wedding photos aren’t that scary!” You frowned.
“The one of Max’s tongue down your throat says otherwise.”
“I am literally trying to eat my salad, can both of you shut up?”
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“So, are we gonna talk about it?”
“Talk about what?”
“Your wedding.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Ha! Sure!”
Max’s brows furrowed together as he lifted his head, only to find the Australian staring at him already. They had both been huddled in his driver room in between meetings and practise sessions, enjoying some peace and quiet before the social media team tried to rope them into some weird activity. However, what Max assumed would be a mostly silent hangout where he could read over some data quickly devolved into the older Australian making little remarks until he finally gave in and put his tablet down.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh nothing,” Daniel said as he gave the boy a casual shrug, though his grin only seemed to widen in response. Max was about to open his mouth, to tell him that was fine before he returned to his work, but the Aussie already began speaking again. “I just think it’s such a funny coincidence that your childhood crush is now your wife.”
Max froze, his cheeks instantly heating up at his words. “I don’t know what you’re on about.”
“No? The conversation where you told me you had the fattest crush on Charles’ little sister growing up and used to constantly try to impress her on the karting races she visited doesn’t ring a bell?” Daniel continued, feigning innocence despite the fact he could see Max’s face growing pinker by the second.
“I think you have the wrong person,” Max said as he cleared his throat, suddenly finding his tablet interesting once again even though the numbers and words on the screen were practically gibberish to his whirling mind.
“And the conversation where you couldn’t stop talking about how pretty she was when you bumped into her in the paddock on Charles’ first Formula One race?”
“You must have imagined that conversation.”
“What about the time you ignored that famous actor because Lando told you he flirted with her when he visited the Ferrari garage?”
“I have no recognition of that.”
“And the time you—”
“Is there a point to this?” Max suddenly interrupted him, his face feeling as though it was on fire and his heart beating wildly in his chest and the smug look on his friend’s face was doing little to help the feelings bubbling in his stomach. 
“I am just waiting to see when you’re going to admit you masterminded this whole thing,” Daniel said to him, so sure and blunt about the statement.
“I didn’t mastermind anything,” Max said with a frown. “We got drunk and we got married in Vegas. Many people have done it before us. Many people will do it after us too.”
“And the fact she was your first love?” Daniel questioned.
“She was not,” Max scoffed, pausing for a moment before he continued. “And even if she was, I don’t like her like that anymore.”
“Oh, of course,” Daniel snickered under his breath. “So I am assuming you’re rushing to help Charles find a divorce lawyer then?”
Max paused for a few seconds too long. “Yeah, I mean. After the last race, obviously. My focus needs—”
“To be on a race that has no effect on your life other than adding another trophy to your shelf?” Daniel teased. “As if you couldn’t be talking to lawyers on the radio whilst racing with your eyes shut.”
“It’s just not a priority right now,” Max huffed out, clearing his throat a little.
“Uh huh,” Daniel laughed, shaking his head. “You know, usually the first step is a date, not marriage but I am going to respect whatever lil’ mastermind plan you have concocted in your head.”
Max let out a whine, throwing his head back. “I don’t have a plan!”
Daniel raised his brows. “So inviting her to watch the race from the Red Bull garage is just a random act of kindness to the enemy then?”
“She’s my wife, not the enemy. And it’s not random at all.”
Daniel snorted.
“Oh fuck off,” Max grumbled. “This is why you weren’t invited to the wedding in the first place.” 
“Actually, you did—”
“Shut up.”
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liked by arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 261, 738 others
yourusername season over and out🫡gonna go bully charles with the dutch national anthem for three months now
view all 13,547 comments
landonorris that's just evil
yourusername shut up or i will bully you too
landonorris why are you so rude when i am literally your personal photographer
yourusername you still made me pay for dinner
user IS THAT MAX???
user omg not the red bull/ferrari contrast
user i wonder how charles is taking this
arthur_leclerc still badly
oscarpiastri i have been begging for you to wear a mclaren cap all year
yourusername keep begging, loser
user the montagues and capulets could never
logansargeant i'm taking the blue as williams support too
maxverstappen1 keep telling yourself that
yourusername be nice
user HELP THE WAY HE IS PROTECTING THE RED BULL BLUE IN THE COMMENTS
user this is my roman empire
charles_leclerc take this down
yourusername no
charles_leclerc take this down please
yourusername still no
maxverstappen1 too much red
yourusername you said i looked good in red :(
maxverstappen1 i said you looked good in red bull merch, get your facts right
yourusername someone's cranky after all the shots last night
user THEY HAVE JUST ACCEPTED THE MARRIAGE AND BLATANTLY STARTED FLIRTING ON MAIN STOP
charles_leclerc why would you say this
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babyleostuff · 6 months
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when their strong independent s/o suddenly wants to be babied | ot13
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❥ seungcheol 
oh, he’d love that. as much of a baby as he is, cheol adores taking care of people that he loves, especially you, and especially because you’re never the one to lean on others or ask for help. so the second he notices you’re a lot more touchy and that your gaze follows him everywhere, his arms are wrapped around you in an instant, and he’s asking if you need any food, water, more pillows, or if the TV is too loud, while running his hand gently through your hair. he would never tell you this, but he’d be so thankful to you that you trusted him enough to let your guard down around him and allow yourself to depend on him a bit more sometimes (if it was his way, he’d like you to be a bit less independent, because he knows how tiresome it sometimes is, but nonetheless, cheol would always be there for you).
❥ jeonghan 
he’s already babying you, even when you're being your cold and independent self. he doesn’t care that you want to open that jar, he’s going to take it out of your hands and do it himself. you’re sitting on the couch while watching a movie with a popcorn bowl separating you? no problem, jeonghan moves it out of the way and pulls you down, so you could rest on his chest, while he’s throwing a blanket around you. he doesn’t do that because he thinks you’re incapable of taking care of yourself - he knows you can, but he doesn’t want you to feel like you can’t depend on him. besides, when he notices how exhausted you are but still doesn't want to depend on someone else, it makes him angry. so, be as independent as you wish, jeonghan is still going to baby the shit out of you. 
❥ joshua
same as jeonghan, you’re already getting that princess treatment, darling. but unlike hannie, joshua does that unconsciously - he doesn’t pay attention to the way he pets your hair whenever you succeed in something, how he grabs your waist to move you out of the way, so that he could reach for that plate, or how he always made sure you’d walk on the inner side of the sidewalk. he knew you were an independent, strong person, but he wouldn’t let you carry all of your burdens yourself, and he’d try to help you in any way he could to make it a bit easier for you. whenever you got a bit more baby around him, joshua would activate his physical touch and cling to you like a koala, because he knew how much, deep down, you enjoyed his clingy, and puppy like side.
❥ jun 
give him a second, because he’s freaking out. will turn into the fluffiest fluffball to ever fluff, because he wants nothing more than to make you happy when you’re in need of a bit more love and comfort. but before smothering you with his kisses and cuddles, jun makes sure you’re feeling fine mentally and physically - he sits you down, takes your hands in his, and when you assure him that you just need to be taken care of for a bit, he goes into teddy bear mode. He loves it when you depend on him, when you snuggle a bit closer to him in search for warmth, when you follow him around everywhere, when you link your pinky fingers when you’re out for a stroll. 
❥ hoshi 
giggling and kicking his feet. this man lives for taking care of you, even if his methods are sometimes a bit questionable. he loves your independent side, soonyoung finds it so cool that you are able to take such good care of yourself, but it makes him sulk sometimes, because “why don’t you depend on me a bit more?” so, whenever you are in baby mode, he tries to make the most of it - hug the shit out of you, follow you wherever he can, squish your cheeks, and call you corny pet names that would usually make you puke. but he would also be a bit more protective over you whenever you let your guard down like that, because he knew you were extra vulnerable in times like these. so, he’d bundle the both of you into a blanket burrito, and hide you from the world for a while. 
❥ wonwoo 
silently screaming, crying, throwing up. you are just as independent as he is, and sometimes he worries that you don’t consider him someone you can depend on or lean on. that’s why moments like these - when you are a bit more clingy and touchy, when you play with his hair a lot more, when you come waddling into his room with a blanket around you to sit beside him and watch him game - it reassures him that he does a good job as a boyfriend, and he tries his best to comfort you, without making you feel like you’re being weak for letting your guard for a bit. the biggest reward for him was when you fell asleep next to him while he was reading you a book in bed. 
❥ woozi 
in the past, woozi was a bit insecure about being the caregiver - he wasn’t sure he was the person you needed to baby you, or give you extra comfort and love. but after you made multiple threats, and changed his password to his studio, he kind of got the idea that yes, he was the person you needed. woozi secretly loved how you leaned on him from time to time, it gave him a peace of mind that you could rest a bit in his presence, and let go of your strong persona, and just be your adorable, little self. he always kept extra blankets in his studio in case you came pouting and asking for cuddles, so he could always have something to wrap around you and keep you warm. 
❥ dk 
endless cuddles incoming. once he notices that you want to be taken care of and babied, there is no way he’s going to let go of you. even if you’d want to get up for a glass of water, worry not, your puppy of a boyfriend would be right behind you, his (buff) arms wrapped securely around your waist, just in case you tried to get away from him. but he’d also understand that you usually acted like this when you were emotionally and physically tired, so he would make sure to talk to you, and comfort you in any way you needed (even though you insisted that cuddles were enough, he knew you were silently asking for a couple of kisses, and for him to sing to you, so you could finally rest without worry). 
❥ mingyu 
puppy nr. 2. the second he’d see you following him with a pout on your face, he’d know it was his time to put on his best husband act, and baby the shit out of you. he’d lift you up without saying anything (giggling in his mingoo giggles), carry you to the kitchen, place you on the counter, stand between your legs, playfully peck your lips, and get ready to make you your favourite ramyeon. mingyu would make a total fool out of himself just to make you laugh, because to him, as long as you were happy and smiling, it was all that mattered. after eating, he’d bundle you up in the most oversized hoodie he owned, wrap you up in a blanket, and put on a scary movie, just so he could cuddle you really, really, really close (his eyes were closed for the whole duration of the movie). 
❥ minghao 
cue in heart eyes. hao’s acts of service or physical touch were always low-key - you always knew he was there for you, but he didn’t push his love into other people’s faces. but, when you needed to be babied, when you needed that extra warmth and comfort form your boyfriend, minghao was always more happy than to turn into your personal teddy bear. he loved how independent you were, it made him so proud that you could take care of yourself, but at the same time it made him worry that you were draining yourself too much. that’s why when you needed to be babied, YOU WERE BABIED. whatever you’d ask for, he’d do it in an instant, no questions asked - it could be the most stupid thing and he’d do it with a smile on his face. 
❥ seungkwan 
mom mode activated. at first he’d get a bit worried that you were acting a lot more baby with him, letting him hug you without side eyeing him, or letting him squish your cheeks without you throwing a tantrum. but after he’d catch on to what was going on, seungkwan would make you sit at the dinner table while frantically looking through the cabinets searching for your favourite ramyeon. after making you some food, and not burning the house down, he’d take you out on a walk around the neighbourhood, your arms linked, while he rambled about all of the funny stuff that happened during practice, to take your mind off of your worries. when you were in baby mode, you and him were like two magnets - you could not be separated, and even if you were, you immediately found your way back to each other.     
❥ vernon 
first of all, it would make him feel so appreciated that you turned to him when you needed to be babied. vernon didn’t get to be the caregiver often, but whenever he’d notice that you needed a bit more comfort and love than usual, he’d try his best, because he wanted to be someone you could always depend on. you’d either do something very calming and relaxing like cuddle under a blanket and watch a movie, or if you were feeling more bold, you’d bake (which with vernon means one thing - a disaster). whatever you decided to do, vernon made sure to always stay by your side, his hand on you hip, because you in baby mode also required him to include a bit more of physical touch, which to be honest he was very grateful for, because usually he was too shy to initiate it himself.  
❥ chan 
he’s been waiting for this. i believe chan thrives off of being the caretaker, so he’d be prepared and ready - pillows stacked up on your bed, comforters to keep you warm, all of your favourite snacks and movies, and his arms to keep you close to his body through the whole night. because he didn’t get to baby you often, he’d make the most out of the times that it happened, and it would honestly make him so so happy that even though you’re this strong and independent person, you still allowed him to take care of you from time to time. he’d finally be able to thank you for all of the times that you had taken care of him.
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yeyinde · 4 days
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Ghost has a thing for fucking you when you're asleep—
(—and maybe one day he'll get around to telling you about it, too.)
noncon/dubcon somnophilia. spit kink. brief anal.
He likes you like this. When you're soft, pliant. A malleable little doll under his hands that he can shape to his will. Bend.
You're so small compared to him. Tiny. The difference unmoors the chains keeping his vile, nasty urges at bay, until they spool—horrific and depraved—around him. Unleashes the need in the back of his head that screams, howls, and tells him to own, possess. Claim.
Ruin you—
And you belong to him. Everything. Every part of you is his, down to your goddamn marrow. Your bones are marked with his name, false starts carved into milky bones.
he doesn't really see the problem with taking what is his.
—and so, he does.
His sweet, sweet girl who can barely take his cock when you're awake—too much, too fat—and so he makes do with slaking his hideous, bestial need on your body when you're asleep. When he can fold your knees up to your ears, and fuck you as deep, as hard, as he wants without worrying about you seeing the want rotting in his eyes, and run—
The stretch, you whine. He's too much for you. The biggest you've ever had. It isn't meant to stroke his ego, he knows this, but still. He preens when you add, liquid and pained, by a considerable margin, Simon—
Like this, asleep, you're relaxed. Liquid. 
And with the sleeping pills crushed into your bedtime tea you always (always) take an hour before bed, he can do whatever he wants to do. However he wants. 
Splits you open with his tongue, fucking into you until you're sloppy and wet. Spitting on your cunt and pushing the foamy glob into your tight hole at his own leisure without having a rain of indignant fists come down across his shoulders, disgusted by the degrading action. Don't spit on me, Simon, that's gross—
(but you swallow it like a good girl when he grabs you by the neck, thumb digging into the dent of your larynx until you open nice and wide for him, tongue sliding out like you're begging for it—)
His little hellion awake. But asleep? 
He gets your pussy messy with his spit, fucking it into you with two fingers—another benefit to fucking you asleep is that he doesn't have to bother with building up, can stretch you out on two fingers without those breathy little mewls spilling out, telling him it's too much. Then three with his mouth glued to your clit, feeling your cunt clench down on him as he bullies it with his tongue. The pressure is too much, too intense. You'd be howling if you were awake, but—
You're not. 
The only sound is the lews squelch of him fucking you open with three fingers, sucking noisily at your pebbled clit. 
Music to his ears. 
And if he's in a hurry. Well. Skipping foreplay all together is fine. Just has to spit on his palm, coat it over his shaft, and make you open up for him. Splitting you open on just his cock. All tight—agonizingly so—around him. 
You can take it. 
He knows you can. You take everything he throws at you—knees pushed to your ears, cock bulging out from your belly. Head buried in a pillow as he flattens his body over yours, and ruts into your cunt while he smothers you under his bulk. Indescribably tight like this with your thighs squeezed together between his own. On your side with your leg thrown over his hip, or held high in the air. 
He likes it best when you're on your back, though. Soft and sweet. Little hiccups leaving your slack lips as he forces you to take every inch he has to offer. Bullying his fat cock into your pussy. Over and over again—
Quenching his unbearable lust on you until it's slated on your flesh, cunt stuffed full of his cum.
Or your ass. 
You're wary about him burying his fat length into your ass. It'll hurt, is the biggest excuse you like to give, hands tucked against the swell of your bottom as if that would be enough to keep him away. You've never done that before and taking him in your pussy was already a lot, you couldn't imagine taking him there, too—
It's a problem. Too bad for you, he has always been task oriented. Someone who likes the squash issues under his thumb. 
And that's exactly what he does. 
Starts with his thumb shoved inside your hole when he's fucking your pussy. Then a finger. Two. Likes to lick at your cunt before shoving your knees to your chest, lifting your ass in the air, and devouring it with the same rapacious appetite. Tongue fucking into you, getting you all sloppy and wet, stretching you open so he can seat you down on his cock. All the way to the base. Stretching your rim wide around his girth. Pounding your tight little ass until he cums inside of you. Filling you over and over again until it leaks out, soaking into the sheets below. 
His pretty little doll. All fucked out and messy. 
With you asleep, Simon can take from you—as much as he needs to fill this greedy, gaping maw inside of himself—without burdening you. Scaring you away. 
And he'd rather not have to chase you down like a dog—
It's the perfect arrangement that lets him exorcise himself of the horrible, awful, things he wants to do to you. Quench the bloodlust, the violence, that drums up in the back of his head, ugly and noxious, that leaks poison into his blood. Makes him see you torn to pieces by his enemies, wrenched away by the people who think they know what's best for you. Taken. The urge to claim you is animalistic. Primal. 
This—
This is bloodletting. It's spilling the rot from inside himself so it doesn't fester. Turn septic. Gangrenous. Eating at his tissue until his hands no longer belong to himself, but to the mercy of his monstrous need. 
It lets him ruin you, tear into you like a beast, without worrying about you running from him. Fleeing from this rapacious green he holds deep in the fibrils of his chest. Hewed into his essence, subsumed into his marrow. 
Simply put: he needs this. Just like you need him. Simon. Need him like the air you breathe—
(And sometimes, sometimes, you get this peculiar look on your face before bed. A frisson. Unease, pensive. It splits over your brows, an evanescent tremor. He thinks you might be more aware than you let on. That you know about this hideousness inside him, this putrid greed that sloshes around the edges of his eyes sometimes, trying to bleed in, trickling down over his periphery before he can stop it. 
But it dissolves into complacency before he can chisel into it, leaving nothing behind but a faint stink of stale smoke. Acrid—like doused embers. Burning his nose, his lungs—)
And when he's had his fill—stuffed that chasm inside his belly with your flesh—he cleans you up, and pulls you tight to his chest. Satiated for the time being. Falling asleep with the taste of you on his tongue, locked tight in his embrace. Tenders to your aches the next morning, as soft and supple as he can ever allow himself to be. 
There’s a place for him, he’s sure, when he lies to you, and says that you must have slept the wrong way. That maybe he was a little too hard on you the night before. And maybe if he were a better person, a better man, he might have felt some sense of guilt for it. Shame.
But instead, he coos at you and says:
It’s his fault, pet, but don’t worry he’ll take such good care of you. Licking your sore cunt all day until you grab him by the scruff of his neck, and tell him no more, please, Simon, stop, stop—it doesn’t hurt anymore, please—
He relents an hour before bed and takes you to the kitchen where you sit and drink the tea he made without a word.
Like a good girl—
And then you slip into bed in nothing but his old shirt, curling up against his chest, and whispering—soft and sweet—into his ear, "good night, Simon."
(his sweet, sweet girl.
like you're fucking begging him for it—)
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whoopsimadeamess · 1 year
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propertyofwicked · 22 days
Text
HOT WINGS - LN
lando and his girlfriend take on the quadrant hot wings challenge
based on this request ✧ my inbox is open! ✧
warnings - literally none, quite short, some swearing. this is mainly just chaos if im completely honest
masterlist the playlist
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“ok guys we’re starting off easy - this is siracha, i believe,” max said, looking to lando and y/n who sat opposite him.
“easy? i get lemon and herb at nandos,” lando whined, but still taking a bite from the wing.
“lan it’s just siracha? that’s basically mayo?” y/n told him, staring in disbelief as she saw him wince at the spice.
“easy for you to say - you smother your food in it like there’s no tomorrow.”
“max just ask the question,” she prompted, ignoring her boyfriends complaints.
“ok bossy - erm, what was your first experience of motorsport?”
the two of them answered the questions as best as they could, max trying not to laugh harder with each spice increase. even y/n was struggling, but not as much as lando who was now turning red and standing up to walk off the pain.
“this is “da bomb” - 300,000 on the scoville scal- lando are you good?” max started, interrupting himself at the sight of lando ripping the lid off the ice cream tub.
“just ask the fucking question max,” lando shouted, whilst rubbing ice cream around his lips, “please.”
“you’ve gotta eat the chicken first you muppet,” y/n chimed in, holding out a wing with the tiniest amount of sauce on it.
“hold my hand,” he asked her, taking the wing from her before grabbing her hand and interlocking their fingers. his grip was tight, and it didn’t help that he remained stood up, so her arm was suspended in the air as they both took a bite of the chicken.
“hold my hand??” max said through his laughter, “you’re eating chicken not giving birth?”
“the pain is worse,” lando told him, quickly dodging the wing that y/n launched in the direction of his head.
“y/n - can you explain this photo for everyone please?” max asked, holding up his phone to show an image of her, fast asleep on his bathroom floor, shoes still on and her head using a box of fries and donner kebab as a pillow.
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“max fewtrell you PROMISED you’d never bring that picture up,” she shouted, covering her mouth as the spice travelled.
“answer the question.”
“i was drunk and tir- and oh my god is this sauce even legal?” she asked him quickly, sticking her tongue out to attempt to weaken the intensity.
“you know there’s still more, right?” he laughed at her, watching the way her arms reached out to lando. though she didn’t want him, she wanted the ice cream he was clutching to his chest, but he wouldn’t give it up.
“lando pass me the fucking ice cream or ill tell everyone that you cry when you cum”
“oh god please cut that out,” lando laughed, though giving up the ice cream quickly.
“no denying it though mate?” max laughed out, smacking his hand on the table.
“my mouth is in too much pain. should i be sweating? why am i sweating?” he continued, grabbing the bottle of milk in front of him.
“lando - can you explain what happened in this picture here?” max asked, holding up his phone once more.
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milk shot from lando’s mouth, spraying across the table and onto y/n as he saw the picture, laughter taking over.
“i’m just not cut out for cycling,” he said with a shrug, before downing another mouthful of milk.
“why was his picture so much nicer than mine?” y/n asked with a whine before shovelling more ice cream into her mouth.
“you always look good y/n,” lando tried to reassure her with a smile.
“shut the fuck up,” she replied, flinging a spoon of ice cream at him, melted slightly as it landed slap bang on his nose.
“i know you’re lashing out because of the spice but honestly that is quite refreshing,” he laughed at her, using the back of his hand to wipe the food away.
“ok - hell fire hot sauce, this one is 2 million on the scoville scale.”
“2 MILLION?” lando shouted at his friend, y/n mouth just opened in disbelief.
“it’s ok baby we’re almost done,” she told him, rubbing his shoulder softly.
“i can’t wait to feel my mouth again,” he replied, ignoring her affection slightly before turning to face her as he wiped the sweat off her forehead, “if you look like that i don’t want to imagine what i look like.”
“rude.”
the two of them took their final bites, trying to remain sitting still as the spice took over but with little success. y/n took to crouching down on the floor, clutching at lando’s arm as he laughed at her.
“y/n, final question - who is the best looking f1 driver?” max asked, looking between his friends with a grin.
“ever or current?”
“ever,” max told her as lando whipped his head round to stare at her intently, but she didn’t notice as she had turned her head to stare into the camera directly.
“jenson button i am asking for one chance,” y/n said bluntly, bringing her hands into a prayer.
“jens- Y/N?? are you kidding me right now?”
“he’s a good looking man what can i say,” she replied with a shrug, smiling wickedly at her boyfriend, “at least he doesn’t have ice cream running down his face right now.”
“what about current drivers?” lando asked her, attempting to remain composed despite the fire burning through his mouth. she turned her head to the camera again, slowly.
“fernando alonso i am asking for one chanc-”
“FERNANDO?” lando shouted, milk spilling down his top once more, “when my mouth doesn’t feel like literal hell we are so breaking up.”
“but if someone asked you who the best looking member of quadrant was you wouldn’t say me,” she retorted before taking a spoonful of ice cream.
“well no id have to say max.”
“exactly.”
“y/n don’t be silly - look at him!” lando shouted back, hand extending to point at the man who was now wheezing in laughter, clutching at his sides.
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emmyrosee · 1 year
Text
Bakugou is, for all intents and purposes, a massive baby.
God forbid you leave him for ten minutes before he starts wandering around the house looking for you. Mercy on you if you go out to the grocery store and don’t take him. And how dare you even consider get up to get a snack when he's in the bathroom, letting your shared spot get cold.
These things, he can not let go easily.
Naturally, this slips your mind every once in a while because a peaceful life with Bakugou Katsuki doesn't exist. When you forget, he makes it his mission to force you to remember his clingy ass.
Tonight, it would appear to be no different.
It's 02:30 when you snap back to reality, bleary eyes blinking to get your bearings back.
The lamp on the side table blinds you momentarily, there's music coming from the tv- credits, you deduce, from the show Denki had raved to you both about. When you angle your head up, you're met with a firm jawline that lets out a loud snore from the slight disturbance.
Katsuki never was good at staying awake during these things.
Smiling up at him, you're quick to place a tender little kiss on his chin, watching as the corners of his mouth twitches slightly. Gently, you slip out of his arms and cover him with the blanket, using the parted lips releasing the smallest little snores to ensure his slumber. He smacks his lips and turns slightly on his side, as if chasing the warmth you'd taken away, and you click the tv off to keep him in the dark. You shuffle your way into your bedroom to get your own rest; you shiver once you slip under the covers, the fabric cold from the lack of use and lack of Katsuki's body heat.
The minute you do warm up, however, you're out like a light, and you remain so for a few hours.
But then, there's someone at the end of your bed. You feel them, and it wakes you just barely. You shift the blankets higher on your shoulder for protection from whatever your subconsious picks up, and just when you feel normal, something speaks.
“I’m gonna kill you.”
The raspy voice coming from the foot of your bed is more than enough to snap you from your sleep, but it isn’t until you see the massive, bulky frame that your heart sinks and you scream, you scream as loud as you can, immediately scrambling to the corner of your bed.
“Stop screaming, it’s me.”
Your shaking hands immediately shoot to the lamp next to your bed and upon flicking it on, you’re greeted by a sleepy Katsuki, blanket around his shoulders and sleepy scowl on his face, as if you’re the one who just inconvenienced him.
“You freak! What are you doing!” You snap, quickly rubbing your eyes to knock the sleep from them to properly scold. He merely shrugs and smacks his tired lips, indifferent to the previous heart attack he’d given you.
“Left me alone on the couch,” he says, dropping the blanket onto the floor before crawling into bed next to you, casually. “We were snuggling. You abandoned me.”
“You-! I was-! Why-!”
“You’re lucky I love you so much,” he says, burying his face into his pillow and making a grabby hand for you, “c’mere, wanna spoon.”
Your heart, still pounding in your chest, finally lets breaths of air in, your hands trembling as you flick back off the light. You’re still mad, now shaking with fury, and as you roll to have your back facing him, you try to take deep breaths to calm down and not smother the man you somehow chose to love with a pillow.
“Hey,” he grumbles, tugging your sleep shirt. “Come here.”
“I can’t fucking stand you, Katsuki. I don’t even want to be in the same bed as you right now, you scared the fucking shit out of me.”
“Didn’t mean to,” he says softly. “Jus’ wanted to be close to you.”
“And you thought threATENING ME AT THE END OF OUR BED WAS A GOOD WAY TO DO THAT?”
He goes silent, and you almost think he’s given up, and just as you blink your stinging eyes, he suddenly rolls on top of you, knocking the wind out of you at his heaviness.
“Katsuki!” You scold, but it’s shrouded in laughter, an absolute contrast of how you just were talking all of ten seconds ago.
“Now you can’t leave,” he says, cockily. “You wake me again and I will kill you.”
“You woke me up just now! You could’ve easily come to bed like any sane person!”
“….”
“Katsuki!”
“Cant hear you, I’m asleep.”
“KATSUKI!”
11K notes · View notes
emocheol · 2 months
Text
sharing the bed with seventeen
how they sleep next to you
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seungcheol
tucks you into his side and keeps you there all night
will not let you move, even if you complain that it’s too hot
his dramatic ass will say that he’ll die if he can’t sleep with you in his arms
pouts at you if you don’t go to bed at the same time as him
if you want to stay up later to watch tv he’ll stay up with you, falling asleep in your lap on the couch while you watch your show
“baby, just go to bed without me”
“i can’t get comfortable unless i’m with you”
jeonghan
a little shit
teases you whenever you want to cuddle up with him
but if you refuse to cuddle him he’ll pout until you cave
if you try sleeping away from him he’ll pull you over to him and smother you
loves to feel like he’s protecting you
always the big spoon, needs to be holding you instead of the other way around
“can i be the big spoon tonight?”
“no”
“but-!”
“absolutely not”
joshua
loves his personal space
literally cannot fall asleep if he’s touching someone, which he feels bad about
but at least he can sleep next to you!
will try to read you bedtime stories to make up for it
googles ‘best bedtime stories’ and ends up reading you goldilocks and the three bears
“why are you reading me a child’s bedtime story?”
“shhh we’re getting to the best part”
jun
blanket hog
you’ll have to sleep with an extra blanket next to your side of the bed so you can pull it on when you wake up in the cold
will claim that he’s not doing anything and you’re just imagining it
even when he hogs all the blankets he’s still searching for your touch
so, you might wake up cold but your hand is warm, engulfed in his
at this point you’ve stopped mentioning it to him so he doesn’t feel bad
plus the warmth of his hand is enough to show you he loves you
“i didn’t steal all the blankets again, did i?”
“nope”
hoshi
nuzzles his head in your neck
likes to be as close as possible
literally a baby tiger
so what if he feels safe in your arms? sue him
likes it when you talk about your day or tell him a story, your voice soothes him to sleep
“can you tell me the one about when you fell off your bike again?”
“honey, i’ve told you that story 10 times already”
“but it helps me sleep!”
wonwoo
surprisingly, is the little spoon
he’s sick of having to be so strong, loves being babied by you
gets sad when you go to sleep first, but he’s playing video games deep into the night, so who’s really to blame here?
but, will feel even worse if you stay up late just for him
“are you ready to sleep yet?”
“just one more round”
“fine, i’m going to sleep without you then”
“no, wait!”
jihoon
usually doesn't sleep until very late
is always working on producing and will even spend nights in his studio
when he comes home you're almost always sleeping already, he feels bad that he can't hold you and soothe you to sleep
but he opts for crawling into bed and holding you while you sleep
you'll subconsciously curl up into him, it always makes him smile
you constantly badger him about getting more sleep and he always promises that he will (he won't but he knows it eases your mind)
“when did you get back last night?”
“not too long after you fell asleep, don't worry”
(he came home after you'd been asleep for 5 hours)
minghao
doesn’t tell you that he does/doesn’t like cuddling
literally just doesn’t give you any information
some days you’ll wake up in his arms and then other days you’ll wake up about to be kicked off the bed
but, even if you wake up away from him when you try to get out of bed he’ll grab your arm and keep you there
“don’t leave me”
“i was just going to make breakfast”
“i said don’t leave me” :(
mingyu
smothers you
literally will not let you breathe
claims he needs to hold you to fall asleep, pouts if you don’t let him
you can try to put a barrier of pillows between you but you always wake up in a death grip
“you’re sleeping on the couch until further notice”
“i promise i won’t do it again!”
he does it again.
seokmin
cuddle bug ™
loves being close to you, absolutely obsessed with skinship
genuinely cannot sleep if he’s not holding you which is why it’s so hard for him to get sleep when he’s overseas
plays with your hair while you’re asleep
will not get out of bed without you, so he’ll just lay in bed and watch your sleep until you wake up
“have you been watching me sleep?”
“of course, i could never get bored of your beauty”
“you’re a sap”
“funny way of acknowledging that i’m madly in love with you”
seungkwan
big old teddy bear
sleeps peacefully as long as you two are smushed together in any kind of way
big spoon, little spoon, he doesn’t care if it’s with you
let’s you play with his hair, plays with your hair
he just loves you so much he’ll take whatever he can get
going to bed with you is his favorite time of the day
“kwannie? i’m tired, you ready for bed?”
“always”
vernon
very specific about how he sleeps
quite literally cannot sleep if he’s cuddling, also says it’s impractical
will link his pinky with yours or grab your hand in his sleep, though
if you wake up and get out of bed before him he’ll pout a little bit, he likes spending time in bed with you
your presence next to him is enough, even if you think you’re bothering his routine
“you sure i’m not messing up your sleep by being here?”
“i’d never not want to be with you”
dino
wants to be a cuddler but is a kicker
you can fall asleep in each others arms but you will be woken up by him kicking you and pushing you nearly off the bed
you’ll try and get back to a normal position with him but he will still kick you, making you grab a pillow and blanket and go sleep in the guest room
he’ll wake up to an empty and cold bed and feel absolutely horrible
will rush into your guest room and shake you awake
“did i do it again? :(”
“don’t worry about it, honey”
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
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I love your writing btw! I’ve been perusing it for awhile haha- can we get cuddle headcanons for how the hoyo boyo’s cuddle? (Sunday, Argenti, Ratio, and Gallagher please? And any other ones you’d like!)
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Sunday: possessive cuddles.
Probably watches over you in your sleep like a creep.
He will not let you go as you are kept caged to his chest within a firm hold as he slept peacefully.
Even as he slept, Sunday didn’t like you being far away from him and prefers to keep you close to him as humanly possible.
He’ll want you to rest your tired head against his chest and coddle you in his arms all the while pressing kisses into your head and upon your face as his wings fluttered softly, bathing your face with a gentle breeze.
His little wings only fluttered when he was feeling strong emotions such as love, anger, betrayal and happiness for instance. So needless to say you constantly felt his wings flutter softly in your face but you weren’t going to complain for such as cute display. That and the fact that his little wing flutters were great for when the nights got warmer, and when you didn’t want to cuddle up to Sunday as much.
Not like he’d let you, seeing as how he can’t stand you being a mere three inches away from him. He sleeps a lot better knowing that you’re by his side and the soft fluttering of his wings made you more than aware of that.
His preferred cuddling position is: chest rest
Argenti: this man needs to hold you against him as though he were trying to fuse your souls together. He won’t assume any other position that didn’t have you pressed against one another, or touching in some way shape or form.
He’d even press his forehead against your own while pulling you to his chest as his hands drew patters into your side and interlocking your legs either one another.
He craves the feel of your warm skin like no other.
He can’t sleep without your touch at all as he feels as though half of his soul was somewhere he couldn’t be.
He’s being dramatic, you’re literally in the same bed with the smallest amount of space between the two of you.
The downside of cuddling Argenti is that sometimes you’d wake up with a face full of his ruby red hair that oddly smelt of fresh roses. But other than that cuddling with Argenti was soft, warm, comforting and it made you feel safe being in the arms of your charming knight.
His preferred cuddling position would probably be the honeymoon hug.
Gallagher:
Clingy/playful.
This man is hugging you as though you were his personal pillow/plushie.
You weren’t complaining though as the man runs warm like a furnace and you got to have your face smothered into his tits. You were in heaven.
Will personally get offended when you try to move away from him.
‘Stop trying to escape will you? Unless you’ve got to piss, then I’m going to assume you don’t want to cuddle me anymore.’ He’d say groggily as he burrows his face into your neck, playfully biting it as you tried to swat him away.
He may even try to tickle you because he’s bored or can’t sleep, when in reality he just wants to hear you laugh one last time before falling asleep for real. He loves getting to be playful and affectionate with you when your both trying to find sleep. The moments shared during them were real, authentic and something to treasure for the future.
These moments were proven more precious to Gallagher when his dog then joins in on all the fun and slept at the foot of the bed.
His preferred cuddling position would be: leg cradle.
Ratio:
Average at cuddling unless he’s deep in his sleep.
Ratio looks like someone who doesn’t like the feeling of another person pressed up against him in fear of contracting their stupidity like a disease. 💀
The best he’ll do is touch pinkies and or have your backs pressed against one another. That’s it.
However when he’s deep in his sleep, he’ll be the big spoon and cuddle himself into your neck as his arms clutched at your waist firmly. It was cute and sweet in it’s own way, but it be best not to admit this to Ratio when he’s awake as he’ll try to prove why you’re wrong.
He’s secretly a cuddle bug but is too prideful to admit to it, obviously.
He’s a touch staved man who denies all allegations the fact that he’s touch starved and craves your touch to an extent where he feels it borderlines embarrassment. So as a result of his prideful ways, he’s left to yearn for something he couldn’t not and would not bring himself to speak up upon.
Veritas only finds comfort in seeking your touch when your fast asleep and cuddles himself into you back under the guise of being asleep, it was bound to work and work it did.
His preferred cuddling positioning would be: back to back/ spooning.
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"Shells and Secrets"
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Pairing: Show!Luke Castellan x posideion!fem!reader
Summary: you and your best friend luke take your daily walk together but this time its different
Contains: kisses (making out), fluff, swearing, angst
Word Count: 1180
A/N: im back again! And in case you can't tell im obsessed with luke and the beach so here we are!
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"Come on Starfish," Luke's voice reaches you before he does, grabbing your arm and dragging you along to the beach. "I don't care that you want to sleep, it's five o'clock in the afternoon you can sleep later."
You mumble your disagreement. Nothing should stand in the way of a girl and her sleep - especially not her needy best friend. Even if she's in love with him. A girl and her sleep should never be separated. A conversation you've had with Luke many times - not the in love part though - that is just for you to keep for yourself.
"I'm going to jump you in the middle of the night," you grumble to him, ignoring the grin that spreads across his face.
"Hmm, a beautiful girl jumping on me sounds pretty damn good," Luke smirks.
"But you're forgetting the best part," you say as your feet hit the sand - you're now on the beach. "The best part is her jumping you with a shiv or smothering you with a pillow."
Luke's grin grows even wider. "Yeah but see I'll fight back so you'll need to be in a place of control and you know what that means? A beautiful girl jumping on me and straddling me."
You fight the urge to blush because he just called you beautiful twice. Ignoring the butterflies in your stomach you take off in a run down the beach. Luke yells after you and starts to chase you.
"You can't escape me, Starfish!" he cries, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you to a stop. You try and wriggle free but end up just tripping over and pulling him down onto the sand.
You're flat on your back and Luke is braced above you, his hands on either side of your head, his mouth inches from your own. The moment freezes between you two and your breaths mingle.
Why isn't he moving? Luke has never shown interest in you before, he's always had girls lining up to date him - sure he's never dated any of them - but he's never looked at you the way he looks at them.
But now, now that he's inches on top of you, his mouth inches away from your own, his dark curls tickling your forehead. He's looking at you in a way he's never looked at anybody.
You clear your throat and that seems to snap the bubble that has surrounded you. Luke clears his own throat and stands up helping you up as well. "You uh, you okay?" he asks.
"Yeah I'm fine!" you smile and start to walk ahead again trying furiously to cover the blush that's spread across your cheeks.
Luke watches you walk ahead with a soft look on his face. He's been desperately in love with you since the day you had accidentally dunked him in water when you were learning to control your powers. You had instantly cracked a joke and quickly apologised when you noticed the way he was staring at you. In that moment all other people had fallen out of Luke's head so he was staring at you for much different reasons than you thought.
Up ahead, you stop to look at a shell and your hair falls in a curtain around your face. Luke stops and watches as you pick the shell up and walk to the water washing it off to get a better look. He smiles at you admiring shells and not worrying about training, or other people just being yourself.
Eventually you sit down on a log, and wait for Luke to catch up to you. "Hurry up you slow shit," you call out to him and he shakes his head jogging over to the log you're sitting on. He sits down next to you and rests his arm- Your arms are touching. Every thought falls out of your head. Your arms are touching after literally lying on top of each other before - whether it's intentional or not it still sends tingles up your arm.
"How are we going to celebrate your new half-brother Starfish?" Luke asks, nudging your shoulder with his own. You hum in thought resting your head on his shoulder, not noticing how he's slowed his breathing down to make you more comfortable.
"Maybe we could dunk him in the ocean, oooh or we could get Annabeth to do something!" you say laughing.
Luke chuckles, his laughter rumbling through you. "I think we could get her on board." You lean further into Luke unconsciously and he basically stills - this you notice.
"Luke?" you pull back and look at him with concern. "What's wrong?"
He starts to mumble under his breath but at your insistent look he clears his throat. "Uh, nothing."
"Luke?"
He avoids your gaze, dropping his head to look at the sand. "Luke?" you say placing a hand on his thigh. He tenses up again so you instantly rip your hand away worried that he's hurt. "Shit sorry, are you hurt." Luke's hand whips out and grabs yours.
"No! Its, its not that," he says as his gaze settles on your mouth. He rubs his thumb in circles on the back of your hand.
"Then what is it?" you say placing a soft hand on his shoulder. "You can tell me y'know? I'm your starfish." You run your hand over his shoulder and up his neck.
Luke seems to ease into your touch. "Luke?" You lean forward hoping he will tell you. Instead he just stares at you with the same look from earlier. Sighing you slip your hand into his hair and run your hands there a few times. "Alright, take your time. I'm here when you're ready to talk." You stand up and let go of his hand walking to the shore letting the waves lap gently at your ankles.
"Y/n," Luke's voice is soft when he stops at your side. You twist to look at him but are met with the soft press of his lips. You pull back stunned and Luke starts to swear.
"Shit sorry, Starfish I- I don't know why I did tha-'' You shut him up by basically launching yourself on him. Your lips smashing onto his own, hungrily kissing his mouth.
It takes Luke a few seconds to realise what's happening and then all at once it's like a leash snaps and he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you impeccably closer. He parts your lips letting his tongue explore your mouth with heartbreaking softness.
Your hands slip into his hair and you stumble backwards tripping over each other's legs until your back hits the sand and once again Luke is on top of you.
You pull back slightly, catching your breath. "Well, that was well said."
Luke smirks and looks at you with such adoration your heart melts. "Right back at you Starfish," he winks and fights the urge to kiss you again, instead a large smile grows on his face.
"We should probably talk about this, hey?" you say grinning back up at him.
"Yeah let's talk..."
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hier--soir · 5 months
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night breeze
joel miller x f!reader
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rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: joel comes home to find you sleeping in his bed, wearing his clothes. warnings/tags: established relationship, consensual somnophilia, oral [f receiving], joel loves when you wear his clothes, premature ejaculation, reader wears joel's clothes; body type is not described explicitly but his boxers are described as "snug" on her thighs. word count: 1.8k masterlist follow @hier--soirupdates if you'd like to be notified when i share my writing this is envisioned as a part of the ALP universe [set between 7 and 8] but it can be read as a stand alone.
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The air is calm at dusk.
Soft and sweet against your skin, the smell of salt in your nostrils.
The sky is a kaleidoscope of purples and pinks and blues, and a slick orange sun drips and wanes until its belly kisses the ocean. Lower, lower, until the sky spins navy and the water pitches black. You float in that black darkness, unbothered by the heavy swells that rise and roll beneath you. The water is rocky and rough, though the waves never seem to break. Too far from the shore, they simply build and build, with no end in sight.  
And the water should be icy, cold enough to chill you to the bone and set you shivering, but you just feel hot. A searing, stuffy heat that clings even as you float over the rolling masses, letting them lap at your neck and face. Humid and dry, you want nothing more than for the water to suck you in deeper. Down, down, until your body is covered, and your hair is a floating halo, and you are finally cool.  
Yet as time passes, you find that it is not the water that is warm, but you. That stifling sticky sun that sank beneath the horizon now burns at the centre of you, red hot and raging, ready to rise again already.
You try to smother it, to tamp it down. Tangle your legs on the water’s surface and hold your breath, but it burns still. A scorching scratch at the inside of your skin, your skull, your chest cavity. And something crawls its way up through your chest now. Something loose-limbed and drowsy, working its way past your stomach, your lungs, your throat, your—
A ragged moan wakes you.   
Your fingers twitch and tighten, gripping soft sheets. Eyes roll behind lids as you drift slowly into consciousness. The air in his bedroom is cold, but in the haze of your sleep-addled brain you can’t quite pinpoint why you’re so warm. Face down on a pillow, you blink lazily and start to piece together what’s happening.
Your shirt—Joel’s shirt—clings to your skin. Sweat beads along the skin of your back, soaking into the thin fabric. The waistband of his boxers is forgiving, resting against the soft flesh beneath your belly button, though the hem of each leg is snug around your thighs. Oh, your thighs…. something sturdy holds them apart.
Two solid weights pressing against the inside of your legs, spreading them wide across the bed. A third weight against the small of your back… a hand. Fingers twisted in the hem of his shirt, bunching the material at the base of your spine, keeping your stomach flush to the bed. Another moan startles you, sharpens your mind a little. Your tongue feels heavy, mind a slow blur as you realise that the sound came from your own mouth. And as that understanding sinks in, you finally feel it.
Something hot and wet, lapping at the dark fabric shielding your cunt. And you’re wet. Fucking hell, you’re so wet it’s near uncomfortable. The sopping material clings to your folds, a persistent tongue pressing it in deeper, soaking the material in your slick juices as they drip from you. You gasp, trying fruitlessly to turn your head and see over your shoulder in the darkness.
“S’me,” he says then, and his voice is a pained, haggard thing. Rough and wanton with desire, with need, muffled from how his face is buried between your thighs. “S’just me… fuck, m’sorry.”   
“Joel,” you rasp, breathless as his tongue glances over your clit through his boxers. He groans and then the thick point of his nose is pressing between your cheeks, nudging at your covered asshole. The pressure there sharpens your senses to a point, and sends a surprised moan peeling from your throat.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, just let me…” Joel inhales deeply, cursing under his breath when you lazily rut your sex back against his face.
“Jesus Christ,” you whimper. When you move your face, something damp tickles your cheek. Saliva, pooling out the side of your open mouth and leaving a small damp circle on his pillow. Embarrassment warms your face, but the sound of Joel moaning against your cunt is a welcome distraction.
Muscular shoulders keep your thighs wide open, and he mouths shamelessly at the material, licking and kissing everywhere he can reach, and it suddenly makes sense why you feel like you’re on the edge already. The boxers must be ruined; slick and spit mix together to soak the entirety of the fabric until it clings to your swollen skin.
“H-how… fuck, Joel, how long have you—”
“Don’t know,” he mumbles. “Twenty minutes? Fuck, I don’t—”
Lewd sucking noises fill the room and the muscles in your abdomen go rigid, mouth hanging wide open as his fingers curl around the gusset of the boxers, dragging them to the side. You moan and squirm against the bed as he dips his tongue between your folds, gliding it through the sloppy messy of you. His sounds match yours; hot exhales billowing against your exposed skin and sending goosebumps sprouting across the backs of your thighs.  
Joel pulls back for a minute. Keeps the material pulled to the side, allowing the cool night air to dance across the scorching skin between your legs while he watches you drip for him.
“Got home late,” he apologises, and you twitch as his breath hits your centre. He’s still so close. “Jimmy needed help with somethin’ and I—fuck, it doesn’t matter, but you were so perfect. My good girl, all tucked up in my bed, wearin’ my fuckin’ clothes, just waitin’ for me.”
“Tried to stay awake.” You hum softly, trying to inch yourself back against his face. But Joel just tuts, and you feel a sharp sting as he nips at the skin of your thigh. You pout against his pillow, body going lax and pliant once more. “Wanted to fall asleep with you.”
“I know,” he soothes, licking over where his teeth marks mar your flesh. His lips dance higher and higher until his tongue flicks into your hole. He swears low, resting his forehead against the soft plush of your ass. “But this? Comin’ home to this… fuckin’ luckiest man in the world, I tell ya.”
It's slow and steady when he lets his mouth fall upon you again. Soft little licks around your lips, tracing the dips and folds of your labia, mapping out every inch of you before his tongue dares graze against your clit. And when he does finally make contact, you jolt and whimper, already acutely aware of that familiar tingle in your spine.
Unable to reach him, your fingers tangle uselessly in his sheets, entirely at his mercy as he devours you from behind. Thick thumbs spread you open for his eyes to see, keeping you apart as he licks broad strokes up the entirety of your cunt before lathing languid open-mouthed kisses against it. Hot and wet and needy, his moans vibrate through you, letting you know he loves this just as much as you. Maybe even more.
Your clit pulses against his tongue, alive with a throbbing heartbeat of its own. And with every swipe and glide and circle you feel that heat swirl stiffer in your belly, the wave building and building. You can feel the way your hole, painfully empty, clenches over and over around nothing but air, winking at him and begging for more.
The slippery sounds of your arousal fill the room once more and soon enough you’re keening his name beneath your breath, spurring him on as you imagine the way it must shine on his beard, his lips, even in the darkness.
“Please,” you mewl, drooling against his pillow still, vaguely aware of your saliva gliding down your neck, thick and viscous. “Joel, fuck me, I want it, want you—”
“I will,” he swears, but you can feel how rapt he is by this. How every facet of his attention is trained on keeping his mouth on your pussy, his tongue rubbing firm circles around your clit just how you like. He gasps and pants against you, nodding a little, groaning when his nose glides through your folds and your scent coats his nostrils. “I will, I will, I just need you like this a little longer. I will. Promise.”
His grip is tender against the crease of your thighs, fingers digging in right where your leg meets the flesh of your ass as he eats at you. And you can tell by the way his noises deepen, turning guttural and depraved, that he won’t be making good on that promise tonight. Know it from the way his face ruts forward into your core every few seconds that he must be grinding his leaking cock against the mattress, feverish and desperate for relief. And the mere thought of it, of him hot and hard, straining inside his pants, has the muscles in your legs going taut.
Joel murmurs your name, so soft under his breath. His long tongue dips inside of you and then strokes up to flick against your clit, and finally you dissolve under his mouth.
The orgasm flows through you much like the waves in your dream. Joel coaxes it out from deep in your stomach until you’re a wet trembling mess beneath him; nothing but a rolling mass of waves for the sticky sun to sink into. Warm and wet, the high laps at your body from every angle until the edges of your mind are fuzzy, molten heat drooling from your cunt and onto his grateful tongue as he groans.
He doesn’t let up those soft swirls of his tongue until your hips are twitching away and you’re whining his name, and begging him to come up here. And so he crawls up your body, movements slow and sleepy as he drops heavily against your back. Thick thighs bracket your own, and that scruffy chin sits against the slope of your shoulder as he presses a kiss and a drowsy mumble of hey baby behind your ear.
“That was nice.” You smile when he takes your earlobe between his teeth. Curious, you work a hand between your back and his chest, fingers trailing down until you reach the damp spot at the front of his trousers. He exhales roughly, hips jerking backward, sensitive. “Fuck, did you come?”
“Shh,” he murmurs, his smile sheepish and shy against your skin. You laugh, heart swelling and eyes falling shut as you let him tip you onto your side and pull you back against his chest. A broad palm snakes over your hip, fingers dancing beneath the band of the boxers to rest against your skin, and he squeezes the flesh there greedily. “Gonna fuck you in the mornin’,” he vows.
You hum, already half asleep again despite how chilled your skin turns as your sweat cools. “Gonna wake me up with your cock inside me, hm?”  
“Fuck,” Joel chokes out, his grip on you tightening. “Yeah, baby. I will.”
“Is that a promise?”
“S’a promise.”
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thank you for reading x
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luveline · 5 months
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for a heavy request, maybe the marauders after you've been in a car accident, no heavy injuries if you don't want to, but just them worrying? ily <3
love u <;3
“I always thought it would be me,” James says when he sees you, his backpack falling down his shoulder as he rushes to your side. His eyes go glassy when he sees the cut on your cheek. “Oh, no way. Look at your poor cheek. Look at your arm!” He frowns, a deep wrinkle crinkling the skin between his eyebrows. “Sweetheart.” 
You shudder as he takes your face into his hands. “You’re really cold,” you mumble. 
“Are you in pain?” 
“Yeah, Jamie.” You smile as best as you can. He looks so worried. “They pulled a lot of glass out of my arm.” 
He eyes the length of your arm wrapped in white bandages. “Yeah? How many stitches?” 
“Twenty two.” 
“Okay. Twenty two presents, then.” 
James helps you settle into your hospital bed. The crash wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it was still too much to walk off. He fluffs your pillow and helps you lay back, pulls a blanket over your legs, and then tracks down a nurse for another when your shivering doesn’t calm. His hair tickles your arms and your face as he tucks you in, kisses your cheek, the smell of his cologne a nice familiarity to cut the clinical sting of disinfectant. 
He looks like he might cry when he’s staring at you, but he doesn’t crack. “That’s better,” he says, taking your hand as he sits in the vinyl wrapped chair beside you. “They’ll be here with your things any minute now, and we can get you out of your flirty dress.” 
“It’s a hospital gown,” you mumble through a smile. You’d laugh if you had the energy. 
“Yeah, babe. You’re practically naked.” 
“Am not.” 
He kisses your knuckles. “Agree to disagree.” 
Remus and Sirius arrive trying to push through the door at the same time. Sirius wins, willing to roughhouse where Remus isn’t, propelling himself toward your bed in a rush. “What the fuck happened?” he asks. 
“They went through a red light,” you say, relieved to see them both. Sirius shocks you when he goes in for a hug, quick but careful, his hair smushed into your forehead as he covers the back of your head protectively. “I didn’t see them coming. I was just sitting there and they hit me.” 
They drove their car thirty miles per hour into the passenger side, which then pushed you into oncoming traffic. Sudden and then done. You closed your eyes to brave and opened them to find yourself covered in glass and blood with a bruise like a lash down your chest. Explaining it, remembering it again so soon, your eyes fill with tears that you choke around as Remus grabs your leg. 
“You’re okay,” James says, giving your hand a good squeeze. 
“Yeah, you’re okay,” Sirius says, quieter, his lips cold on your face. 
Sirius lets you go after a quick appraisal of your face and lets Remus crowd you. He hugs you for far longer than the other two, not because he likes you more or anything, but because he’s very, very tactile, and because you need it. He sits on the side of the bed and uses his height over you to wrap you up, avoiding your arm but otherwise smothering you in a soft affection. “It’s okay,” he repeats the sentiment of the others, kneading the top of your arm. 
Remus looks pale in the bright white fluorescents, but he doesn’t falter nor shake. He has a remarkable talent for turning everything off when he needs to. You shudder like a kid through tears, your arm a constant pang of pain. The whiplash is suffocating. Each breath you takes doesn’t feel like enough. 
Remus counts you through big breaths. “Just do it with me, hm? Nice slow breaths. You got it.” 
“I’ll get you some water,” James says. 
Sirius opens the bag they’d first ignored to unveil a shoving of things, including a water bottle and a three pack of juice cartons. “We brought choices.” 
He pierces the carton with a straw for you and hands it over. You sip at it feebly through panicked pants, the straw pushed between your teeth. Remus runs your arm with his thumb encouragingly. “Sorry,” you say. 
Three voices chime in at one. “Don’t be sorry!” Remus says, as James and Sirius both say, “No.” 
“It was really scary,” you confess, tears slinking off of your lashes as you blink. 
“I bet it was,” Remus says, “but you’re okay. We’re gonna get you fixed up and back home so quickly, dove, you don’t need to worry.” 
“I’m not worried,” —James winces visibly at your shaky voice and reaches over to rub your thighs— “I just didn’t know what was happening.” 
“It must’ve been so scary,” James sympathises. 
You look for Sirius through their embraces. He’s frowning, nearly glaring, his gaze on your bandaged arm. “We’ll sort everything out,” he promises, raising his head. “Promise.” 
You nod quickly and then slower. “Yeah, I know.” 
You’re bathed in hugs for a while. The nurse comes back to see how you are and giggles at your company. “Such handsome boys,” she says, “who’s the lucky one?” 
To which they all say, “Me.” She declares them the funniest bunch of boys she’s ever met. 
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