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#red shoes are my weakness
prommytheus · 1 year
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slay your devils, kill em all
take your throne, paint the walls
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deoidesign · 10 months
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A general cane guide for writers and artists (from a cane user, writer, and artist!)
Disclaimer: Though I have been using a cane for 6 years, I am not a doctor, nor am I by any means an expert. This guide is true to my experience, but there are as many ways to use a cane as there are cane users!
This guide will not include: White canes for blindness, crutches, walkers, or wheelchairs as I have no personal experience with these.
This is meant to be a general guide to get you started and avoid some common mishaps/misconceptions in your writing, but you absolutely should continue to do your own research outside of this guide!
This is NOT a medical resource!!! And never tell a real person you think they're using a cane wrong!
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The biggest recurring problem I've seen is using the cane on the wrong side. The cane goes on the opposite side of the pain! If your character has even-sided pain or needs it for balance/weakness, then use the cane in the non-dominant hand to keep the dominant hand free. Some cane users also switch sides to give their arm a rest!
A cane takes about 20% of your weight off the opposite leg. It should fit within your natural gait and become something of an extension of your body. If you need more weight off than 20%, then crutches, a walker, or a wheelchair is needed.
Putting more pressure on the cane, using it on the wrong side, or having it at the wrong height can make it less effective, and can cause long term damage to your body from improper pressure and posture. (Hugh Laurie genuinely hurt his body from years of using a cane wrong on House!)
(some people elect to use a cane wrong for their personal situation despite this, everyone is different!)
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(an animated GIF of a cane matching the natural walking gait. It turns red when pressure is placed on it.)
When going up and down stairs, there is an ideal standard: You want to use the handrail and the cane at the same time, or prioritize the handrail if it's only on one side. When going up stairs you lead with your good leg and follow with the cane and hurt leg together. When going down stairs you lead with the cane and the bad leg and follow with the good leg!
Realistically though, many people don't move out of the way for cane users to access the railing, many stairs don't have railings, and many are wet, rusty, or generally not ideal to grip.
In these cases, if you have a friend nearby, holding on to them is a good idea. Or, take it one step at a time carefully if you're alone.
Now we come to a very common mistake I see... Using fashion canes for medical use!
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(These are 4 broad shapes, but there is INCREDIBLE variation in cane handles. Research heavily what will be best for your character's specific needs!)
The handle is the contact point for all the weight you're putting on your cane, and that pressure is being put onto your hand, wrist, and shoulder. So the shape is very important for long term use!
Knob handles (and very decorative handles) are not used for medical use for this reason. It adds extra stress to the body and can damage your hand to put constant pressure onto these painful shapes.
The weight of a cane is also incredibly important, as a heavier cane will cause wear on your body much faster. When you're using it all day, it gets heavy fast! If your character struggles with weakness, then they won't want a heavy cane if they can help it!
This is also part of why sword canes aren't usually very viable for medical use (along with them usually being knob handles) is that swords are extra weight!
However, a small knife or perhaps a retractable blade hidden within the base might be viable even for weak characters.
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Bases have a lot of variability as well, and the modern standard is generally adjustable bases. Adjustable canes are very handy if your character regularly changes shoe height, for instance (gotta keep the height at your hip!)
Canes help on most terrain with their standard base and structure. But for some terrain, you might want a different base, or to forego the cane entirely! This article covers it pretty well.
Many cane users decorate their canes! Stickers are incredibly common, and painting canes is relatively common as well! You'll also see people replacing the standard wrist strap with a personalized one, or even adding a small charm to the ring the strap connects to. (nothing too large, or it gets annoying as the cane is swinging around everywhere)
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(my canes, for reference)
If your character uses a cane full time, then they might also have multiple canes that look different aesthetically to match their outfits!
When it comes to practical things outside of the cane, you reasonably only have one hand available while it's being used. Many people will hook their cane onto their arm or let it dangle on the strap (if they have one) while using their cane arm, but it's often significantly less convenient than 2 hands. But, if you need 2 hands, then it's either setting the cane down or letting it hang!
For this reason, optimizing one handed use is ideal! Keeping bags/items on the side of your free hand helps keep your items accessible.
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When sitting, the cane either leans against a wall or table, goes under the chair, or hooks onto the back of the chair. (It often falls when hanging off of a chair, in my experience)
When getting up, the user will either use their cane to help them balance/support as they stand, or get up and then grab their cane. This depends on what it's being used for (balance vs pain when walking, for instance!)
That's everything I can think of for now. Thank you for reading my long-but-absolutely-not-comprehensive list of things to keep in mind when writing or drawing a cane user!
Happy disability pride month! Go forth and make more characters use canes!!!
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lacedinweb22 · 2 months
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Valentine’s Day ❦︎ (smutty one-shot) ❦︎⋆˙⊹ ❦︎ ⋆˙⊹ Miguel O’Hara x Fem!reader
nsfw 18+ ୨୧
You come back from work, feet sore, back sore, in need of him.
First thing you notice are the flowers on the kitchen counter. A massive assortment of red roses, with a note sticking out. “Happy Valentine’s Day, mi princesa. You’re my valentine today and everyday,” your cheeks are warm. You put the note down, slowly taking your shoes off as you look around. “Forever” by The Little Dippers leaks out of your bedroom.
You walk down the hall, slowly opening the door.
There he is. Hair tousled from running a stressed hand through so many times, a snug white button up rolled up at his forearms, muscles on display, black slacks, and a black leather belt… perfect. He’s pouring moscato into the wine glasses on the dresser, he looks up at you calmly, the calm you so desperately needed after a day like today. His eyes soften as they lay on you.
“Baby,” you exhale, walking into him. “Hermosa,” he sits the moscato bottle down, leaning down into you, breathing in the smell of your hair. You dig your face into his chest. The smell of his cologne makes you weak. His hands are snug around your waist, holding you tightly against him. You look up at him, he leans down, your lips meet in the middle.
He strokes your hair, “I’m sorry you had to work today, but I’ll make it up to you,” he whispers before kissing you again. You nod.
You lean against the dresser, he hands you a glass. It’s your favorite moscato. He keeps one hand on your waist, still holding you, as he picks up his glass with the other hand. “Happy Valentine’s, Y/N,” he smiles, tapping his glass to yours. “Happy Valentine’s, Miguel.” His eyes are on yours as you sip. You put it down, then start to take off your coat. He notices and immediately goes behind you, helping you take it off.
“Think I’m gonna change,” you mutter, moving your hair to the front, as he helps you.
You start to unbutton your blouse, but stop when he drops to his knees, slowly unbuttoning your pants. You look down at him, hands in his hair. His eyes are now on your black lace panties, as he slowly pulls your pants down. His fingers trace underneath the thin cloth on your hips, fingers massaging your skin. You don’t feel the need to change anymore. He stands back up, looking at the black lace bra now exposed under your button-up. He smirks, fangs on display, then leans down into your neck, sucking gently. His hands wrap around the back of your thighs and he picks you up like you weigh nothing.
You make out, taste the moscato on his lips. He lays you on your bed, then crawls on top of you, now hovering over you, hips touching, his hard-on pressing into your underwear. You moan into his mouth, as his fingers grip your waist tightly.
“Need you,” you moan in between kisses. He kisses your neck, “I’m here, baby, you can have me,” he mutters lowly into your skin. You look down and unbuckle his belt; he watches you, brushing the hair out of your face.
Finally, he’s in just his boxer briefs, and you can see so much through the stressed cloth. “We have reservations at 7:00,” he whispers in between kisses. “We have time,” you whisper back. He moans in your mouth as you grab him from out of his boxers, and press him against your heat.
He kisses down your neck as you pull his hips into yours, trailing down to your shoulder, pulling your blouse to the side.
He enters slowly, only half of him in you. He bites your shoulder, moaning into your skin. “Missed you, Mig,” you moan, as he slowly inches in and out of you, letting you adjust. “Missed how big you are,” you whine.
He kisses you, then slowly enters, now fully, you both moan at the pressure. He thrusts in and out, kissing you hard.
It’s slow and passionate, and you feel every inch of him intensely. He groans into your ear, “Been thinking about you all day. You feel so good, chula.”
The music is still playing on the record player; he digs his face in your neck.
He slides one hand down to your heat, rubbing at your core. “Does that feel good for you, my girl? Like that?” he groans, which you bite your lip in response, suppressing your gasps.
Perfect pressure and perfect fullness begin to bring you to your end. You start to unravel; you wrap your legs around him, bringing him closer, deeper.
He sucks on your neck, then pulls away to whisper into your mouth, “Baby, I’m gonna—”
“I know,” you exhale, slowly finishing around him.
He throbs inside of you, filling you up. You bite his lip, moans filling the room.
*im drunk AF and I’m ending it here LOVE Y’ALL so much 💌 HAPPY VALENTINE’S 💋💋💋* -G
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maitadori · 11 months
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WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER sfw jing yuan x afab!reader
word count : 1.1k
content / cw : fluff, suggestive, making out, smug and teasing jing yuan, cutie yanqing
summary : being the general’s secretary is such a piece of work. why does he insist on getting handsy instead of doing his job? or: in which jing yuan has fallen for his emotionally constipated assistant and your lips look too inviting.
a/n: DISCLAIMERRR!!!! as a poc with melanin, whenever i describe the reader’s face as “hot” that is up for interpretation, it doesn’t necessarily mean i’m saying your cheeks are red. just wanted to put that out there have this piece until i can try to conjure up ideas for weak willed cloud knight mwah mwah
DARK CONTENT BLOGS PLZ DNI!!!
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“general.” you enter the room with a stack of papers in hand, trying your best not to groan when you already see a pile of undone documents sitting there. you expected as much, yet you still sighed in disappointment every time.
your general— who was on the verge of falling asleep— immediately perks up at the familiar click of your shoes as you walk into his office.
“[name], you’re here,” he sighs out, almost fondly. you ignore it in favor of giving him a scolding look.
“you haven’t done a thing since i left this morning, general. do i need to hold your hand through every single file?” your eyes are fierce and your mouth is molded into a frown. jing yuan can’t help but savor your features despite that.
in response to you, he mutters out wistfully, “maybe you do.”
you roll your eyes and set down his papers, right next to the other stack. “general, you can’t keep slacking off like this. lady fu xuan might sweep your position from right under your nose if you keep this up.”
“does that mean i get to spend all of my free time with you?” he ignores your words in favor of bringing you in by the waist. you grip his wrist and try your hardest to pry it off of you.
“don’t you do that already?!” your expression is flushed and he revels in it. even though you try to act and look angry, he notices the subtle way you lean into him.
he reels you into him, bringing you around his desk to where he’s sitting behind in his chair, making you stand between his legs. you’re tugged into his chest and you stop yourself from toppling into his lap by hastily pressing your hands against his collarbones.
“general! you are so inappropriate!!” your tone is scolding.
jing yuan sighs, a faux look of sorrow painting his features, “didn’t i tell you to call me jing yuan?” his voice has a small adoring tone to it, something that you don’t feel like digging deep into at the moment, aware of what you might uncover.
“didnt i tell you that’s improper of me? i’m your subordinate. what would people think if i called you by your given name? they’d suspect you favor me.” you shook your head in exasperation, sighing once more— you seemed to do that a lot in his presence.
“but you are my favorite, if they suspected anything of the sort they’d be absolutely correct,” he says, tugging on your formal wear. you stammer, putting your hand over his in a feeble way to stop him.
“could you shut up for once?!” you exclaim, yet in a whispery voice in fear of others who walk by hear.
“hmm?” he asks slyly, a smirk curling his lips.
“d—do your damn work! if you do, i promise to call you by your name.” by your face expression, jing yuan could tell this is taking a lot out of you and you’re extremely embarrassed. he would feel bad if he didn’t find you so adorable.
“will you let me kiss you, too?” he leans up into your lips.
“that’s definitely asking for too much!!!” you exclaim, face hot, and no longer worried about who might be outside this door.
but as he rubs circles into the fabric of your clothing, his breath hitting your cheeks, his lips nearing yours by the moment, your will is beginning to falter. before you can even realize what you’re doing, your eyes are slipping shut as your hands are sliding up to his shoulders.
“after this i’ll do my work, okay? i promise,” jing yuan whispers. from that alone, you’re nearly broken out of your trance, but before a word is able to leave your mouth his lips lock with yours.
he’s humming into the kiss, showing his obvious satisfaction. your face is warm and you reciprocate the kiss eagerly, almost embarrassed by the fervor.
you were really kissing your general.
he was nibbling your lips, pinching your waist to get access to your mouth, making your mind mush. you couldn’t believe this was happening.
jing yuan is stealing the breath straight from your lungs, and they’re replaced with breathy whimpers. his tongue is leaving no place in your mouth untouched, but by then, you’re already putty in his hold.
you can’t conjure up a single coherent thought, all protests from before becoming blurred and pushed to the back of your mind. his hand is at the seams of your top, his cold fingertips ghosting under it to ease his hands onto your warm skin. you shiver in anticipation.
his thumb rubs your waist before it slowly trails up to the fringe of your bra. he’s caressing the skin under it slowly, building you up for the moment his hand ventures under. you’re leaning into him further, trying to subtly goad him into giving in.
he smirks into the kiss, thumb sliding under the hem. but a loud, eager knock makes you both jolt apart.
before you can even comprehend the situation fully, you’re already backing away from him and adjusting your clothing, smoothening everything over.
jing yuan is watching you fondly, a tinge of smugness swimming beneath his eyes.
“state your name and business.” he calls out, eyes still on you.
“it’s yanqing, sir!”
you’re making eye contact with him now, your expression filled with flushed fury. “i cant believe you!” you whisper shouted before grabbing the small hand mirror that yanqing left on his desk to check your appearance.
your eyes nearly bulge out of your sockets once you catch sight of your swollen lips. “y—you..! how— i..!!! ugh!!!” you sputter, pointing between yourself and your general before giving up.
your general does nothing but chuckle at your misery. “i got too carried away.”
“don’t you always!?” you growl, your finger against your lips as you somehow try to get rid of the red puffiness.
“general?” yanqing calls from outside.
due to your conversation, you both nearly forgot he was even there.
before jing yuan could call him in, you’re stalking towards the door. your hand grabs the handle, but before you pull it open, you look back to your general who’s smirking. “you better do your work, jing yuan. or this will never happen again!” you both sensed the lie in your tone, but one of you was too surprised to point it out.
you were only given a mere second to revel in his baffled look before you walked out, letting yanqing in.
“[name]!” yanqing calls happily. “can i come over to your place tonight?” he asks, face glowing.
you smile, patting his head. “of course you can. i’ll cook your favorite too, alright?”
yanqing cheers, “alright!! i’ll train as hard as i can, so can you please make dessert too?”
you give him a noise of confirmation, smiling at his joy before you’re walking off.
jing yuan could only watch the scene in envy, glaring down yanqing as he practically skips into the office humming a tune of “[name]’s making me dessert~”.
yanqing turns to his general, brow quirking at his troubled expression.
“what got your panties in a twist?”
“nothing.” he grits out. you had the audacity to call him by his name in your beautiful alluring voice, and invite yanqing to your house, in front of him!! next time he saw you it was more than your lips he was taking for his own.
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a/n : anyone wanna be added to my jing yuan taglist? he’s been growing on me a lot so expect more of him too ^v^
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seventhcallisto · 9 days
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Channie. Chris. ( bang chan )
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MDNI ! 18+ CONTENT AHEAD !
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smut and fluff. bang chan x afab! reader (nn: sweet girl used once). Unprotected sex (wrap it pls ffs). Breeding. Slight edging. I love u's during it. Can be considered soft dom chan, but there really are no roles here, yall.
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Chan is such a soft lover. The type to wrap around your waist in the kitchen and kiss your shoulder, swaying you back and forth in a slow waltz. The type to kiss your neck as you let him message it. The type to go out of his way to get you something you want or like.
The type to hold an extra pair of shoes for you in case the heels you're wearing start to hurt. The type to love casual affection. The type to hold your hand and listen to you ramble with the most content and focused expression on his face. Chan was that type of lover.
Chan is also the type of lover to fold you in half as he gives you the dicking of a lifetime. With your legs over his broad shoulders and singing the sweet music only he knows how to drive out of you.
Watching your glistening cunt catch in the night light and shine with slick, creamy from the previous orgasms he has already pried out of you and yet- he's still to reach his own peak everytime he sinks back in to the hilt. Catching himself and slowing down to edge it on- he loves to talk you through it when he does it.
"Gonna cum soon sweetheart?" he'd murmur, husky and out of breath from the brutal pace he's already set for the two of you, slowing down til his thrusts are pushing you- digging deeper and deeper into your cunt until theres no space for him to go. "You're so good for me, baby. Gonna fill you real good, okay?" You're folded, yet he leans down to place his strong arms by your head. You're fucked out and it's all thanks to your boyfriend- your lover.
And he has the guts to smile, to bite his lip and kiss the corner of your mouth, leaning more of his weight onto the bed so he's practically on you- one with you. "Talk to me pretty," he'd ask again, stopping abruptly, then slowing to a grind- torture of pleasure on his handsome face, his cockhead hitting a part of you that has only ever been reached by him.
"I-I'm channie-" you hiccup as quietly as you can manage, jolting in his grasp due to the way everytime he does it, your clit throbs- sore from so many orgasms before, and you whimper once again when he slows down even more, telling you to respond in his own way. "Channie, need you to cum in me please- please please" you'd bargain- chans got a thing for breeding.
"Yeah? Say please one more time f'me-" His tired voice asks, his face hovering over yours. He watches your expressions - your feelings and the satisfaction of his sped up pounding wash over you. "My sweet girl, fuck-" he hisses when you clench again and again- signaling you're going to cum for the 4th time soon.
"Please- oh fuck- chan- chris," you whimper his name once again, something different this time - his name, which you know gets to him. That makes him weak in the knees, soft and mushy.
The way chan has you is everything to him - you're perfect, made just for him and him for you. He can't wait to marry you one day, to put a giant ring on your finger and settle down. You're everything to him- always have been- always will be.
And with another hard slam of his hips, you're scrunching up around him, calling his name with a shriveled cry and digging your nails into his back, not like he minds. Legs squeezing over his shoulder until he drops them down to place himself back between your parted and soaked thighs, hiking them up and over his arms to keep you spread for his wide form.
"Almost there baby, where d'you want it?" He groans, and it reverbs off his chest into yours, his head falling into the junction of your neck to place a sloppy kiss over the countless red blots of hickeys lining up over you. You shake with every push, every pull of his hips, and how hard he drills his cock into you, pumping you with his entire length and dragging out your already exhausting orgasm.
"In-" you stutter, whimpering once more when his dark happy trails skims over your clit from another thrust. "In me, inside chan, please chris?" And oh- it's everything to have you beg for him like this. His cock twitches- his groan deeper this time as he nears his peak.
The harder he bucks inside you, the farther you slip into his lap, his knees placed under you, your body halfway over his strong thighs, he holds you tight there with a grip to your waist, blow after blow, grunt after moan. His eyebrows scrunching, and his eyes locking with yours as he pulls back to lean his head on your forehead.
"I- fuck baby i love you so much," he strains as finally, his eyes drift shut and his face scrunches with pure unaltered bliss, his mouth falling slack. His cum floods you, warm and sticky and so much it has you gasping- his hips stuttering.
He falls over you with a heavy- breathless sigh, his sticky naked skin sticking to yours. You're finally able to catch your breath as well, thighs trembling from around his waist and then unfolding to straighten out cause they're sore, obviously. Chan breathes against you, steadying his breath and listening to yours do the same, your heart pounds against his chest and everything just feels to right to move.
He places a sweet kiss against your jaw, tugging himself to lean on his arm. His face is soft- lax and red. Yours is probably dazed, and fucked to oblivion. But chan smiles anyways, kissing you as softly as he's done hundreds of times before.
"You okay?" He questions with a hum, lips stretching out and his eyes curling to showcase how he's genuinely asking. You blink up at him. "I love you too, chris," you murmur sweetly. Chan falters, a chuckle bubbling up from his throat fondly before you pull him down into your embrace.
"I'm gonna take that as a yes, yeah?" He laughs into your shoulder. You hum happily, content to be in his strong arms and tough figure. Soft and warm and giving. Ready to show you in every way how much he adores and loves you. Just you.
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literaila · 5 months
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hey v ! what about peter and reader getting ready to go somewhere and after reader puts on some red lipstick peter can't stop kissing her ?
lipstick
warnings: ugh, peter
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*
“how many times have you done that?”
peter is standing behind you, leaning against the wall, probably ruining your focus, or your makeup, or your sanity. he’s probably staring just to mess with you.
you refrain from smiling in the mirror. wipe a smudge with your nail. “i don’t know, peter,” you meet his eyes, and his nefarious smirk. “how many times have you watched me do it?”
“i got lost somewhere around the first time.”
you laugh at him, crumbling the napkin you’ve been using, now filled with kiss marks, and turning it around so you can throw it at peter. “are you sick?” you ask him.
instead of answering, he licks his lip and unfolds the napkin, staring at the red marks, creases and tireless efforts arranged in a messy pattern. “this is like art.”
“why are you acting like you’ve never seen anyone wear lipstick before?”
“what?” he asks, hand to his chest. “i cant watch you get ready? i’m banned from being in the bathroom when you are?”
“yes, and yes.”
it does not escape your notice when peter tucks the napkin into his pocket for safekeeping.
he shrugs. “i don’t mind breaking the rules.”
you scoff at him and pat his shoulder as you walk past him through the doorway. “i would’ve locked you out if i knew you were going to be weird about it.”
“weird? how am i being weird?”
“you were lurking. you’re still lurking.”
“i’m talking to my girlfriend. that’s part of our contract.”
“you’re following me.”
peter smiles. “well, i like you.”
you roll your eyes, almost—almost—smiling when you feel his arms wrap around your waist. “please don’t make me argue about your stalker like tendencies.”
“we don’t have to argue,” peter says, kissing the space beneath your ear. his breath is hot.
“i need to put my shoes on, peter.”
he smiles, his teeth clashing against your skin like a dreadful reminder. some type of jumpscare—minus the fact that you merely lean into him, sans jumping. “we can spare fifteen minutes.”
“how can you be thinking about anything besides the fact that we’re already late to meet may?”
he nibbles on the skin by your collarbone, then licks it, as reprieve. “it must be the lipstick.”
“you’ve literally seen me with lipstick before. i wore some on our first date.”
“‘s probably why i like it so much.”
his lips are needy as they crawl around your skin. his hands are stationary, but they pose their own threat as they lurk.
“peter, we have to go.”
“i’m not known for my punctuality,” he spins you around, his lips curled in mischief, “you know.”
“i’m aware.”
you refuse to indulge him. your brows furrow, your hands held in the air—just so you can avoid accidentally touching him. purposefully.
“then why are you so worried?” peter asks, kissing your cheek.
“i’m not kissing you,” you say, instead of answering.
“you’re not?” peter pouts like a child. he is far too grown.
“no.”
“how come?”
you try to pull away from him, but, shockingly, peter is stronger than you are. your will is weak. “you’re going to smudge my lipstick. i just finished.”
“you have more, don’t you?”
“not the point.”
“what?” he asks, his voice so serious and teasing. “you don’t want to kiss me?”
“no, i do not.”
you look away from him, admiring a wall that has always been there.
“are you sure?” peter asks, ducking so he can catch your eyes again, because he is nothing if not cruel.
you break, pouting. “peter,” you whine, “we’re not going to be late again.”
“i think we are.”
“you can kiss me when we get home later,” you promise, trying again to wiggle out of his grasp.
“that is a terrible compromise.”
“you won’t compromise,” you snap back. “what else am i supposed to do?”
peter grins, tilting his head. “okay. i have an idea. how about i kiss you, and then we leave? you don’t even have to kiss back, even though we’d both prefer it that way.”
“i’ll kiss you,” you mock him. “you’re the worst negotiator i’ve ever met.”
“then how come we haven’t left yet?”
you scowl at him, and he scowls back, but his eyes are alight.
your skin is ravenous with an ache to touch him, he’s so close that kissing him would be nothing—merely breathing, really—but you don’t want to lose this game to peter. and you dont want him to stop looking at you.
he pretends to check a watch. “hmm, it’s getting awfully late.”
“are you british all of the sudden?”
peter grins, biting his lip before he tries to bite you. you lean away. “if you like my accent, all you have to do is say so.”
“i like it when you get out of my way, and stop trying to sabotage me. i like that a lot.”
“no clue what you mean, dear.”
you roll your eyes and manage to cross your arms in his hold.
“i wonder how we could solve this,” peter muses, tapping his finger on your waist. “it’s a big problem.”
“i could leave you behind and have lunch with may myself.”
“that’s one option.”
you roll your eyes again.
“i was thinking something else, though,” peter says, and he’s closer now, but you’re sure that you never saw him move. “something more… proactive.”
“shove it, peter.”
“you don’t even want to hear it?”
you sigh, leaning your chest into him, out of pure delusion. “fine. what?”
peter smiles at you, eyes catching eyes.
the look on his face is soft, delirious. he’s got that look in his eyes, and that smile on his face, and he’s still staring at you like he’s mesmerized by whatever you’re doing.
“what?” you repeat, but softly, like you can’t find your voice in the chest cavity peters taken hold of.
“kiss me,” he says, softly, and it’s really not your fault that his lips are already brushing yours.
and it’s not your fault when you lean in, sighing in relief at the mere feel of him.
you’re almost breathless, from the tiniest of kisses.
but then you kiss peter again, and again, and your hands finally wrap around him—keeping hold of something real in this fake reality—and your voice isn’t your own when you groan at peter for making you do this.
you have evacuated your body. you have lost common sense.
but it doesn’t matter, because kissing peter has always made you forget all of that.
and it still does, when he pulls back, grinning like he’s won. “see?” he says, voice ragged. “it was simple.”
“we’re going to be late and it’s your fault.”
peter laughs, kissing you again, staring at your red lips. “gladly. i’ll take all the blame.”
“and you’re making it up to me later.”
“whatever you say,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your bottom lip.
he releases you and watches as you finally put on your shoes.
you don’t think it necessary to mention the red marks on his lips. it’s not like it’s your fault they’re there.
*
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rubysunnday · 1 year
Text
blood on your lies
summary: four times Y/N got injured and the one time kaz did
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"How many fingers?"
"I didn't hit my eyes."
"How many, Y/N?"
Y/N sighed. She squinted slightly. "Four?"
Kaz narrowed his eyes. "Three."
Y/N pursed her lips but didn't move. Her vision kept swimming in and out of focus. Sometimes Kaz and his concern disguised as displeasure was clear and then a moment later, he was just a black blob.
"I'm -"
"If the next word out your mouth is 'fine', I will deduct your wages for this job and hit you with my cane," Kaz warned, raising his eyebrows an inch.
Y/N wanted to argue. She hated appearing weak in front of Kaz. He was the one person she constantly strived to impress and being injured, again, whilst on a job with him was not what she wanted.
She tried to stand up, putting her hands against the wall behind her, intent on using it to push her up.
"No."
A gloved hand pushed down on her shoulder, forcing her to sit back down on the cobble stones. Y/N relented, her head already swimming. She closed her eyes, swallowing back the bile and trying to breath through the nausea building in her throat.
"You can't go to sleep."
Y/N sighed. She opened her eyes, squinting slightly at the light glowing just behind Kaz.
Kaz's eyes narrowed a fraction and he readjusted his weight, moving to block the light with his body.
"I can't sit on the cobbles all night, Kaz," Y/N muttered, bringing a hand to her head and shielding her eyes.
"Jesper will be along soon," Kaz replied, glancing down at his shoes, inspecting them one at a time. "Then when we get back, you're going to rest -"
" - but Kaz -"
" - and not go on any jobs for a few days," Kaz finished, ignoring her. He raised his gaze from his shoes, focusing on her. "You are allowed to be injured. It doesn't make you any less of a Crow."
Y/N, surprised by Kaz's sudden honesty, nodded, silent. Her eyes began to burn and she harshly wiped them, breathing out shakily.
"Ah, Jesper!" Kaz said, turning to face up the street. "Y/N has a concussion."
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It was early afternoon which meant the Crow Club was almost silent. Kaz was sat downstairs on the main floor, his papers and books strewn across a booth table. He didn't need to write down the numbers, but he did, just in case anything happened.
It was only because Kaz was sat downstairs, and not in his office, that he heard the almighty bang, followed by a thud, that came from the basement.
He paused, pen hovering over the parchment. There was a groan of pain and whoever was downstairs muttered, "fucking cupboard".
"Y/N?" Kaz called, setting his pen down. "Did you get into a fight with a cupboard?"
Y/N emerged at the top of the stairs leading to the basement. "I walked into a cupboard," she corrected, her voice muffled as she pressed her hand to her her nostrils. Her fingers came away, tinged with red, and she swore.
"Sit down before you bleed on my floor," Kaz said, easing himself out of his seat. "Tilt your head forward, not backwards."
Y/N followed his advice, sitting down in a chair and tilting her head forward. She pinched her nose, just above her nostrils, and held her hand under her nose, catching the blood that dripped down.
A white handkerchief was thrusted into her vision. Y/N blindly took it, pressing it to her nose.
"Don't forget to breathe," Kaz said, his voice coming from somewhere in front of her.
Y/N raised her eyes and she could just see Kaz's shoes, standing in front of her. "I cannot believe I walked into a cupboard."
"You didn't see it coming?"
Y/N lifted her head, looking at Kaz. "Did you just make a joke?"
Kaz's shoulders moved in what looked like a shrug. "I'm actually hilarious, do you not know that, Y/N?"
Y/N huffed out a laugh, lowering her head one again. "My deepest apologies, sir."
Kaz's lips curled up into a smile.
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Kaz woke with a start, his mind racing. A quick look around told him that his was no longer inside the building they'd entered. Instead he were outside, lying on the street.
As Kaz sat up, he became aware of how damp the back of his jacket had become, the sensation sending shivers throughout his body as memories came flooding back.
The wet jacket clinging to his back as he stumbled ashore. How it dragged him down, taunting him to let go and sink back under. Jordie.
Jordie suddenly morphed into Y/N and Kaz sat up, looking around the street for any sign of her. He put a hand on the ground, bracing himself to stand up, when he felt a hand brush his. Or he brushed the hand, Kaz wasn't sure.
The contact sent him back to the cobbles but, as Kaz turned his head, he realised it was just Y/N.
She looked serenely peaceful, lying there on the ground, her arms outstretched slightly. Kaz watched her for a moment, waiting to see the comforting sight of her chest rising and falling. It took a moment for his eyes to focus but when they did, he could see her breathing.
Some part of him relaxed.
Kaz pushed himself up onto his knees and crawled to Y/N's side. Swallowing back the panic and the urge to run away, he leant over her, one hand braced on the cobbles on the other side of Y/N, whilst the over reached up.
His hand hovered over her face for a moment. It shook. Kaz breathed in deeply. He put his hand against her cheek, his thumb moving up and down for just a second.
Kaz bought his hand back and moved it down to her shoulder, shaking her as hard as he dared. "Y/N. Y/N, come on, wake up."
Y/N's head slowly moved to the side as Kaz shook her, the orange light from the street lamp above casting shadows across her face. Kaz shook her again, hard this time. He was feeling water rising around him.
"Y/N!" He yelled and, before he could even think, he slapped her.
Y/N inhaled sharply and groaned, sitting up as quickly as she could, hands blindly reaching out to grip whoever had slapped her. Kaz let her grip his hand, let her realise it was him, and then pushed her back.
"What the fuck, Brekker!" Y/N exclaimed, falling back onto her elbows. "What was that for!"
"We have no time to sleep," Kaz said, wincing slightly as he awkwardly clambered to his feet. He was trying not to show his earlier panic and opting for despair and irritation seemed best.
Y/N groaned again, lying back on the floor, closing her eyes. "I have no idea what happened."
"We triggered something in that room," Kaz replied, looking around for his cane. "Knocked us both out. Then we were dragged and dumped out here."
"How long for?"
"Half an hour," Kaz said, still looking. "Ish."
"Ish? Kaz Brekker just said ish, I must be dreaming," Y/N muttered.
Kaz picked his cane up off the floor - it'd been next to his foot the entire time - and turned back to Y/N. Silently, he held out a gloved hand to her.
Y/N, still disorientated and confused, reached up and grabbed his hand, letting him pull her to her feet, without even realising what had just happened.
"What now?"
"We break back in," Kaz said, already making his way down the street. "Come on!"
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The boats in the harbour bobbed about as a wave rolled in and sloshed up against the stone walls. They were mid mission - at the most important stage.
And Y/N couldn't breathe.
She'd been pushed down a staircase earlier on in the day, when the mission had just begun. Whilst Inej had taught her how to fall, it hadn't saved her ribs from hitting the edge of the stone steps.
Once the initial pain had faded, Y/N had managed to keep going. She rejoined the group, got assigned a new task by Kaz, and was on her way to do it when she'd breathed in just a little too much.
The pain had flared up until she couldn't stand. Y/N had perched herself on the harbour wall and had sat there since, trying to get control of her pain.
"I don't recall sending you here."
Y/N didn't even have the energy to acknowledge Kaz. She lifted her head, noted him standing in front of her, and dropped it again.
Pain was coursing through her body and Y/N could feel the tears burning her eyes. Tears of frustration and of pain.
"You okay?"
Y/N forced herself to straighten up, to look at Kaz. She breathed in, felt something twinge, and her shoulders shook as she felt the tears spill over.
"Try and breathe through it," Kaz said quietly, his cane hitting the floor once as he moved closer, leaning against the harbour wall beside Y/N. "I get its hard, but try."
Y/N tried to, forcing herself to breathe beyond the pain. Her nails dug into the harbour wall, the stones digging into her palm.
"When I first broke my leg, the pain nearly consumed me," Kaz said, his words almost lost to the wind. "It's hard, when it gets bad, to think beyond it."
"I." Y/N paused. "I tried to cope." She squeezed her eyes shut. "But it got too bad... and then I couldn't breathe."
Kaz's blazer sleeve brushed against her arm. "Nina is near by."
"No, she's busy."
Kaz dug his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small metal tin. He flipped the lid open and picked two white circular tablets out. "Here."
Y/N held her hand out and Kaz dropped them into her hand. "What's this?"
"Drugs," Kaz replied, smirking. "The good kind."
Y/N tried her best not to laugh, but her smile grew. "Thanks."
She put them in her mouth, grimacing slightly at the awful taste in her mouth as they began to dissolve. Kaz held out a flask and Y/N took it, swallowing the tablets with what she'd expected to be alcohol but was actually water.
"When it gets bad and I have to keep going," Kaz said quietly, taking the flask back, "I take those. It doesn't get rid of the pain but it helps."
Y/N turned her head, her eyes settling on his. "Thank you."
Kaz just nodded.
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Blood was spilling out onto her hands as she pressed the bandage to Kaz's shoulder, trying to staunch the blood. Kaz was sat on the stone tomb, his head lolling to the side, hitting Y/N's arm every so often.
"You still with me?" Y/N asked, pushing her hands harder against his shoulder, the blood dripping down her arms.
"Ahuh," Kaz muttered, his eyes still shut.
Y/N knew he was battling with himself and his mind and didn't take his grumpiness and silence personally.
Her hands were trembling as she pulled the bandage away from his shoulder for a moment, checking to see if the blood had stopped or not.
"How did you get shot?" Y/N asked softly, pressing the bandage back to his shoulder.
Kaz stilled. Y/N squeezed his shoulder, the blood still running, and he breathed in sharply, coming back.
"He was aiming for you," Kaz said quietly, his voice hoarse. "At your... head."
Y/N froze. She took her hands from Kaz's shoulder, happy that the bleeding had stopped. The cloth dropped to the tomb. Y/N stepped back, standing in front of Kaz, her knees brushing his.
"Is that why you pushed me?"
Kaz nodded stiffly. "Didn't expect to get shot, however."
"Don't think anyone does."
"Unless they see the gun pointed at them," Kaz quipped.
Y/N smiled. Her leg brushed against Kaz's and she was surprised when he didn't flinch. He raised his head, gazing up at her. Y/N, for once, didn't fight the urge. She reached out and gently combed her bloody fingers through his hair. Kaz leant forward, resting his head against her stomach.
"I can stop," Y/N said softly.
Kaz nodded against her. "I know."
She let her fingers run down to his neck, never straying further than where his collar sat.
"We're okay, Kaz," Y/N whispered, leaning her head down to rest on top of his. "We're okay."
4K notes · View notes
dotster001 · 1 year
Text
Househusband Au HC'S
Summary:Crewel/Crowley/Vil/Rook/Malleus/Idia x gn!reader
Requested by @stygianoir
A/N: my tag list is still packed so hopefully you guys find this 😂
CW:sus gardener Rook, discussions of Idia's depression and fear of death, but I think that's it
Part Two. Part Three
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Most well dressed parent at the PTA meeting. Puts everyone to shame, and makes all the other parents and teachers jealous.
Cooks five star meals exclusively , and makes sure you get your proper intake of nutrients. He can't have his favorite pup lacking in proper nutrition!
One hundred percent coordinates your outfits for you everyday. You're the best dressed worker, all because your husband hand sews you outfits designed to blow the competition out of the water.
Pretends he's not snuggly, until nighttime, then he gets pouty. He'll be aggressively folding laundry, and not speaking to you until you come to bed and let him hold you.
You own twelve dogs. Each dog has an individual diet it is on, that is hand made by him everyday. He knows exactly what every dog needs, and makes sure to memorize what each dog needs.
If you want kids, you will adopt/birth at least three. He likes a full house. Majored in alchemy before he settled down as your househusband, and is more than happy to tutor not just your kids, but also their friends, in alchemy.
Sings like Roger from 101 dalmatians because I said so. Also he plays the piano like him. Because I said so. I'm weak okay!
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They say he had an illustrious career as a model, then he met you. That's only half true though. He was planning on retiring anyway, and just happened to meet you around that time. He likes to let the tabloids believe it was all your fault. It makes him laugh. Vil Schoenheit bows to no one! Now drink your smoothie!
Healthy meals constantly. He somehow managed to make them all taste good though. It's a little suspicious honestly…what does he put in that smoothie? You never liked smoothies for breakfast before…
He likes to do your nightly routine for you. It's his love language. At 7 pm sharp, he clears his throat, and gestures for you to sit down. Then he brushes out your hair, does your skin care routine, dresses you in pajamas, and tucks you in, making sure to give you a kiss on the forehead before he joins you.
If you aren't home in time for your nightly routine, he goes to bed early, turned away from your side of the bed. He will not speak to you, even though you know full well he is awake. He knows deep down it's not your fault, but he has simmering rage and no one else to take it out on.
That said, when you do fight (which you do a lot) he'll storm out before he can be particularly nasty. But you'll wake up to a single rose on the pillow next to you, and a new pair of shoes to wear to work.
You have one fluffy white cat, or one child. It's one or the other in Vil's pristine house. This isn't a barn, for seven's sake.
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Cooks, cleans, gardens…. he's made for this life. You don't even know where he gets the time for it.
Rook prides himself on having the best garden in the neighborhood. Your neighbors asked him what fertilizer he used, and he wrapped an arm around you and giggled about how it was "the most organic around". Considering the last time you had to do laundry there were red stains on his clothes, you choose not to ask questions.
If you have kids, there are three of them, each two years apart. He makes the perfect paper bag lunches for them everyday, with little french notes in them (raising bilingual kids in this family). As he drops them off at school he kisses each one on the top of the head, and jovially waves them off.
You have two dogs that he takes hunting with him on his solo weekends (they aren't often, because he can barely stand to part from you!) But you also have a rabbit. He gave it your name, and likes to tease you by saying how he "caught his lapin" and never saying whether he's referring to you or the rabbit.
Another one who makes sure you look your best at work. But his favorite thing is when you forget your lunch, and he "has" to bring it to work for you. This is when he is at his most dressed up, and your outfits compliment eachother the most. He loves the gazes of envy that come his way as he kisses you and hands you your lunch.
When he's not doing chores at break neck speed, he wants you to either be in his arms, or him in yours. He doesn't care which! Please, his poor heart needs you!
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Trust fund baby. Born rich, then married you. Tried to convince you not to work, but you wanted to, for whatever reason, so he "allows" it. (Who is he kidding? He could never deny you anything, what a simp) he sulks all day though, moping like a lovesick teen until you come home. Heaven forbid you forget something and have to come back in before you actually left, because he has your boss on speed dial, and will call you in sick. Oh, you just left your wallet? Too late, he assumed you had fallen ill and had chosen to stay home with him! 
He's a little clueless on cooking and household chores (Lilia is no help) but he tries! Boy does he try! And it's not half bad. Not stellar, but not bad. You've only gotten food poisoning once, and he's only ever burnt a hole in two of your shirts with an iron.
Loves to serenade you with his violin on special occasions. You know the evening is going to be wonderful when he pulls it out. Oftentimes, it's a song he wrote for you, and sometimes he even sings along.  His deep timbre will often have you so relaxed that you start to drift off. He's fine with that! More time to cuddle!
Speaking of, he starts the night out by laying on his side of the bed, and by the end of the night he is wrapped around you like a koala. He also gets very hot at night. You often don't need a blanket. You asked him about it once, and he said something about "draconic internal temperature regulation", whatever the fuck that means.
You had to put him on a budget because he buys you every shiny thing he sees. He always goes over budget, and always insists it's the last time and it will never happen again. This, friends, is what we call a lie.
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He's only a househusband in name, really. He still has an income/job in the form of streaming and YouTube videos. But he stays at home, and likes it when you call him your househusband. He gets all blushy and smiley. He likes the idea of being the one you look forward to coming home to.
Ortho lives with you both, obviously. And he does all the cooking and cleaning. But he and Idia have an unspoken agreement that if you ask, he helped too.
Calls you at work at least once a day. It's always during your lunch break though, so that you can "eat lunch together" You know his mental health difficulties are acting up if he calls you more than once though.You don't have to come home, he'll be alright, he just needs to hear your voice.
His stream only knows you as player 2. When you get back from work, he'll say "Oh player 2 just got home!" And get so excited. He'll run off stream to give you a kiss, and won't come back until you remind him he's streaming. His followers have been there through the whole progression of your relationship, and despite not knowing what you look like, and only hearing your voice off screen every once in a while, they adore Gloomy Samurai and Player 2.
You always have two cats at a time, usually the ones at the shelter or humane society that are bonded or siblings. He doesn't want to separate a family, and also gets nervous about the inevitability of death. So you always have two cats. That way if something happens you always have one.
Yes. You get him to start telehealth therapy, and medication. Why do you ask?
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He tries, bless his heart. His cooking is not bad, but his cleaning skills are subpar. To be honest, he's not cut out for the househusband life, but you've heard horror stories about how he handled his previous jobs. So for the sake of the world, you do your best to ensure he stays here.
"He's so generous" 🙄 Any time he goes a little bit above what you expected from him, he drops that line. A particularly good dessert? How generous. He actually folded laundry today? So magnanimous. But it hurts his pride if you don't agree, and you married him for some reason, right?
He has an allowance, and usually spends all of it. Sometimes it's gifts for you, but a lot of times it's for him. Which, it's his allowance, so that's fine. But he buys the weirdest stuff and doesn't use it. It just sits around your home.
If you have to work on something on the home computer, good luck to you. Home is for loving him, not working! He'll slip into your lap, give you a sexy pout, and start caressing your cheek, and tracing shapes into your neck. Then he'll start talking about how you're neglecting him, just put the work away and come cuddle with him. 
Where he shines though, is if you guys end up with kids. He's a surprisingly good father, making sure they all are clean, safe, and well fed. He helps with homework, and is surprisingly good at it, he's good at seeing what their needs are, he knows immediately when one of the kids is sick, and is at the doctor right away… you don't know where these skills came from. But the second the kids are in bed, he's back to being your needy husband.
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millyhelp · 4 months
Text
How would Jason act if he found out you were pregnant?
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Headcanon
warnings: angst! Sad shit with happy ending! anxiety and panic attack! Jason has very low self-esteem, so I warn you that he will depreciate himself a lot. mentions of sex. mentions of death. reader comforting Jason. English is not my first language, sorry for the grammar mistakes (if it have any)
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•You had been acting strange for a few weeks now.
•You were eating more than usual.
•And feeling sicker than normal.
•Jason thought it was a virus.
•Then came the mood changes.
"Get out!" You shouted at him and threw a pillow at the man "You don't love me!"
"Doll, I just said I wouldn't make your pancake now because I need to go on patrol..." He said in a calm tone of voice
"It's the same thing!" you whined
•After a while, you were the one who noticed the changes.
•Your period had been late for a month.
•You were feeling hungrier than usual and wanting to eat strange things.
•You wanted to eat that strange mess that Starfire makes.
•Another month has passed.
•Your belly was a different size.
•After noticing this, you purchased 7 tests.
•Only one tested negative.
• Your luck is that Jason wasn't home, otherwise he would have heard your scream.
•What were you waiting for? You have a lot of sex, and babies comes from that.
•You were happy, but worried about Jason's reaction.
•You've been married for three years, you've talked about babies before.
•But you still worry, you know how Jason's mind works.
•You did your best to hide the tests and thought about how to tell Jason.
•He was away on a mission with Bruce and would only return at dawn.
•You decided to tell him in the morning.
•You would wake him up with a beautiful breakfast and tell him.
•As it was still afternoon, you had time to go shopping for a few things.
•You bought a small box with red baby shoes. You also went to the market and bought things to make Jason's favorite cake.
•Everything was perfect, or almost perfect.
•You hid things in the kitchen so you could make them for him in the morning, and went to sleep.
•When Jason arrived it was around three in the morning.
•He came in through the window and smiled when he saw you sleeping peacefully in the bed the two of you shared.
•He needed a shower urgently, so he went to take a shower.
•He took a warm, relaxing bath. When he was drying himself he looked around.
•The bathroom cabinet was not closed properly. It looked like there was something preventing it from closing.
•When Jason opened the closet to find out what was stopping it from closing, all the tests fell to the floor.
•Jason frowned and swore a fuck!
•He bent down and picked up the tests in his hand.
•Six positives and only one negative. Was that yours? It was obvious that it was.
•You don't know how to hide anything from him.
•Fuck, he's going to be a dad!
•Jason began to feel panicked. His breathing became unregulated.
•Still with the towel around his waist, Jason sat on the floor of the large bathroom.
•Suffocating.
•Suffocating.
•Suffocating.
•Jason gasped for air.
•Shit. Will he be a good father?
•He doesn't deserve this.
•He must be dead and not reproducing.
•He's just a stupid thing that should be dead.
•Jason tried to get up. His breathing was still uneven, he felt weak and ended up falling with a loud noise.
•You woke up with noise and looked around.
•"Jace? Are you home?" Your sleepy voice sounded loud, but Jason couldn't hear it, he was deep in his own panic.
•You got up and noticed the bathroom light on. Fuck! The tests!
•You quickly opened the bathroom door and found Jason on the floor struggling to breathe and with the seven tests on the floor next to him.
•"Jason!" You ran over to him and sat on his lap.
You placed both hands on his face.
"Jason, look at me!" His eyes looked into yours "Breathe... come on, breathe with me"
•Breathe, he had to breathe.
•"One..." you breathed in and so did he. "Two..." you breathed out and so did he.
"Three..." again you breathed in and so on until he could breathe.
Tears welled up in his eyes and Jason began to cry. It had been months since he had a crisis like this, the last time was when he was kidnapped by the three jokers.
"Jace... talk to me" You gently wiped his tears away. "You found the tests, didn't you?"
You looked to the side where the tests were on the floor.
"I..." Jason sobbed and tears fell "I'm going to be a dad?..."
"Yes, Jace..." you smiled lovingly "You're going to be a dad..."
"I don’t deserve." More tears fell and he closed his eyes shaking his head "I don't deserve it. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve it."
"Hey. Shh, Shh, Shh, Shh" You wiped his tears away again and he opened his eyes "Listen to me. You deserve it. Okay? You deserve it so much!"
Jason's blue eyes looked so deep now because of the tears and the heavy feeling in his chest.
"I should be dead, Yn..." He sobbed again "Not having kids..."
"But for some reason you're here with me, and I'm pregnant." You smiled at him, trying to reassure him.
"I love you, Jason. And this..." you took his hands and placed them on your stomach "It's one of the ways that love manifests itself."
Jason looked at where you placed his hands. He stroked yoour belly.
"Love. This is love." He spoke in a tearful voice and you nodded.
"I'm going to be a father..." He gave a weak smile "That explains your mood swings." He looked into her eyes "I love you so much. I feel like I'm not enough for you, will I be enough for our baby?"
"You are already enough. Always have been and always will be." You spoke with certainty and looked into Jason's eyes.
"You're going to be a great father." You smiled
"Do you really think?" He looked into your eyes looking for an answer
"I'm sure about that." You spoke and he kissed you.
•Jason has always been sensitive. But he's great with kids. So it will be great for your son or daughter (I dare say it will be a girl).
•"You weren't supposed to find out like that..." you giggled as your forehead was on his.
"You don't know how to hide things from me, I'm a detective trained with batman." Jason laughed and gave you a peck.
"Don't judge me." You pulled away and rolled your eyes, "I was going to tell you in the morning. I was going to make your favorite cake and make everything you like. I was going to prepare you, you know?"
"Well, I'll still take the cake." He said playfully.
"Silly. I'll do it tomorrow. But we need to go to sleep" You got up and he got up right behind you.
"Oh yeah?" He adjusted the towel around his waist again "We could practice making future babies..."
"Jason, this one isn't even born yet" You laughed and lay down on the bed
"So?" He shrugged "Practice makes perfect."
"Go to sleep, Mr. Todd." You opened your arms to him and he laid on your chest.
"Hmm... don't think I forgot about the cake you're going to make." He grumbled but soon fell asleep.
•He really didn't forget about the cake.
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I CRIED SO MUCH WRITING THIS 😭🫡
Jason dad of a girl team!
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yanderenightmare · 9 months
Note
idk if you write for naoya but i have an idea...maybe darling is like maki but actually weak and naoya bullies and takes advantage of them?
love your work btw!! <3
JJK ! IMAGINE
Zenin Naoya x maid ! darling
TW: yandere, mentions of abuse, bullying
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Proposal Gift
Sharp hazel eyes follow you in your innocence, narrowing while he judges – concluding once again, as he’d done before, that there really isn’t a single cursed bone in you – only a humble body of warm squeezable flesh and a heart he bets is all too easy to break.
You’ve always been like that. Quick to smile and quick to cry. A bundle of emotions unfit to be raised in such a ruthless clan.
He’s a few years older than you and remembers well what a weak constitution you’ve always had. Anyone could see it, and everyone knew it from the moment you were born – you were never going to amount to much.
He used to find your weakness quite disgusting – used to push your face into the gravel until snot and tears would wet the dirt in a pitiful puddle – with his foot pressed down between your shoulder blades – sometimes until hearing a pop and shriek loud enough to echo off the walls. With words cutting even deeper – telling you what a curse you were, born so weak and so useless – a stain on the great Zenin name.
But now that you’ve grown up, he bites his tongue – silently watching with a strange type of lusty entitlement forming in his gut…
He’s only been away on a mission for a handful of months – who’d have known he’d come back to see you grown into something so… precious.
You’re the prettiest out of the maids – the cutest one too, and undoubtedly the sweetest as well. Walking about the garden where you have most of your chores – watering plants in the sun and picking herbs for healing. You’re quiet and graceful, taking slow steps in your plank shoes that knock softly on the tiles where you peacefully wade through the maze in a pretty flower-patterned yukata.
You look nothing like the snot-nosed brat he’d left in the dirt. You have a swell of breasts now and a feminine face wiped clean of soot – painted with pretty red on your lips and fresh blue on your eyes.
You’re a lady now.
And while your weakness used to disgust him, he’s now realizing what a blessing it is instead. Smirking the more he glares at you – now sitting on a bench in the shade doing some hand stitching, knowing no ill will – he understands he’s quite lucky you turned out such a fragile little thing.
“Naoya-sama-” You spluttered, eyes widening into big round glass orbs.
Jumping to your feet, you nearly threw your needlework down on the bench before folding your fingers together and bowing – much lower than necessary – with a rush that could only be excused with fear.
You hadn’t known he was back yet and felt the surprise like a vice grip wrapped tight around your throat.
Swallowing thickly, you made your excuse while maintaining your bow, praying he’d show you mercy. “Pardon my lack of awareness- I was absorbed in my chores, you see- please forgive me-”
He folded his hands within his pants and raised his chin with a smirk at your spluttering, licking his teeth in enjoyment at your pretty display of courtesy. Eyeing you for a long moment before speaking, mainly to watch you begin to tremble in the wait – cutely dreading the bite of his punishment.
But punishing you wasn't what he was interested in at the moment.
“You’re not in maid robes.” He said instead, ignoring your previous stuttering. His face, jaded with a tone just as callous, aided by that weighty air of authority he always has surrounding him – the one that never fails to make your skin feel raw in the cold.
“Oh-” You fumbled, halting at his lack of anger – wary of the unexpected behavior as it was pretty odd for him not to jump at the opportunity to punish someone like you if and when the chance presented itself.
Though, it wasn’t yet decided he wouldn’t do just that – the way his steely and strangling presence nearly knocked you over with its vicious intensity alone – staring you down sharply with that otherwise smooth hazel.
In return, you had your doe-eyes yielding and down-cast, eying your fabrics with a bite to your lip – trying to keep your voice from shivering while uttering the next line, heat in your cheeks while at it. “These are- uhm- proposal gifts I’ve been asked to wear.”
He snorted at that, and you flinched at the abrasive sound – eyes shifty while eyeing the ground, lowering your head some more, looking down at the paint on your toenails instead.
“From whom?” He asked a beat later.
Your brows pinched at his curiosity and how awfully unlike him it was. Naoya-sama had never struck you as the type to make trivial conversation, especially with the likes of you. 
“I’m- uhm- not exactly sure…” You confessed, twiddling your fingers. “You see, Father doesn’t want to confuse me- after all… it’ll be his decision in the end, anyway.” 
You kept your head bowed while explaining, feeling awkward before him. Trying to think of a time when he’d paid any type of regard to you or your life – remembering none.
“B- but my marital status must be of no interest to you, Naoya-sama.” You blurted then, finding it to be a rather strange matter to discuss with him of all people.
But all the man responded with was a slight hum, keeping his gaze on you and the way you timidly glanced up at him only to look away when seeing him stare back. 
Ears burning, you chewed and sucked your lip under his glare, thinking of how badly you’d witness him beating other maids – having needed to treat many a cut and gash and bruise and broken bone he’d left on bodies much smaller than himself – not to mention the ones on your own frail self he’d given you in your youth. 
“Please excuse my arrogance-” Your memory prompted you to gush. “Doing anything but welcome you home from your mission is rude of me- I heard you lead our clan into many victories- you must be very proud.”
You decided to try you r luck charming him instead, hoping it could sway him from the urge to hurt you.
“Or maybe it doesn’t come as a surprise anymore. You’ve always been rather strong, after all.” You continued but choked on it only a second later – spurring with yet another apology on your lips. “That was thoughtless of me to say- you should feel proud either way- please forgive me for my stupid words, Naoya-sama- I fear the heat has gone to my head and made a complete airhead out of me…”
But despite the obvious hints of regret and panic in your draining face, the man gave no indication of even having heard what you’d said until offering your ramble another rather unusually relaxed response.
“It’s true.” He agreed – much to your surprise, where you’d braced your face for a backhand and your stomach for a gut punch. “It’s become boring.” 
You dared glance up at him through the lashes of your bow – only to see his face still as expressionless as always – a type of stone-cold that made the hairs at your nape rise.
“Still… you must be tired from the trip, if not the mission” You softly started in spite of it – hoping to end the conversation soon. “You shouldn’t stay out here in the sun for too long…” You tried, praying he couldn’t see straight through your intentions. “And- uhm- I should really hurry along- help prep supper for you and your soldiers with the other maids.” You excused, once again bowing your head, waiting for his nod of dismissal – ever relieved when he gave it.
You swallowed your tremors, feeling lightheaded and dizzy while offering up whatever type of smile you could muster.
“It was good seeing you, Naoya-sama.” You lied. “Welcome home.”
You bowed yet again, dismissing yourself before turning and leaving him.
He kept his eyes fixed on you despite it. Observing the distressed spring in your step and how it disturbed the former peace you walked the gardens with earlier. 
A smile inched up his face watching it.
You look very nice in his proposal gift.
He looks forward to having you in his bed.
tip-jar: Kofi
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strangersmunsons · 4 months
Text
Eddie’s sick. you have a little surprise to cheer him up. eddie munson x fem!reader, ~800 words
There’s some kind of bug floating around the garage, and it’s got Eddie sick as a dog.
It’s the second day off he’s taken from work. He’s at home, taking refuge on the couch — since there’s no television in his bedroom — huddled underneath a blanket, watching some mindless daytime program that he can barely focus on.
The front door to his apartment clicks open, and you appear in the entryway, wrapped up in a big overcoat. A large tote bag dangles from your shoulder.
“Hi, baby,” he calls out hoarsely at the highest volume he can manage.
“Hi, Teddy.” You toe your shoes off and leave them by the door, but keep your coat on. You pad over to where he’s laid up on the sofa. “How’re you feeling?” you ask, pushing his sweaty bangs off his forehead. The smooth swath of skin feels too warm beneath your palm.
“Like shit,” he croaks.
You hum sympathetically. “I’m sorry.”
He coughs, and the noise is thick with phlegm. “But better, now that you’re here,” he adds with a weak smile, voice cracking on the last word. You scratch his head lightly with your nails, right behind his ear, just like you would a puppy.
“Here, I brought you some stuff.” You set the bag down on the floor and start pulling out items. “A thermometer, because I know you don’t have one.” You take the it out of its box and stick it in his mouth before he can complain. “Flu medicine, heating pad, VapoRub…chicken noodle soup…” You set a thermos down on the coffee table in front of him. “Dark Crystal on VHS.”
“You’re an angel,” says Eddie. The words are garbled, as he’s speaking from around the glass rod tucked under his tongue. “Thanksch.”
“Wait, wait, I have one more thing.” You start to undo the buttons on your coat, fingers working slowly, dragging the process out. “Seeing as how I’m your caretaker and all, I thought I should dress for the part.” When all the buttons are undone, you shrug the coat off, letting it fall to the floor to pool around your feet.
Eddie’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates and the thermometer falls out of his open mouth. “Oh my God.”
The costume is from Halloween three years ago, before you met Eddie, so he’s never seen it before. The nurse uniform is tight and form-fitting, the silky white fabric hugging your body perfectly. It’s also short — the hem sits high up on your thighs, baring a generous amount of leg. For the finishing touch, you pull out a little red nurse’s cap and secure it to your head. “Ta-da! What do you think?”
Eddie thinks he’s going to start barking, that’s what he thinks.
“What do I think?” Eddie struggles to sit upright, propping himself up on his elbow. “Baby. Sweetheart. Angel. You look stunning. You’re the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen. You look so sexy, I — I can’t believe that I’m sick and have to keep my hands to myself.” He sounds utterly dismayed as he comes to this realization.
You start laughing. “Aw, I didn’t put it on to torture you. I wanted to cheer you up!”
“Oh, it’s working. Consider me cheered.” He hacks into his elbow briefly, then twirls the air with his index finger. “Gimme a spin, babe.”
You oblige, turning slowly on the spot. His eyes flit wildly up and down your figure, desperate to drink in every inch of you. The ill temper Eddie’s been in for the past two days completely dissipates. He’d wolf-whistle if he wasn’t so full of snot. 
“You know what? I think I’m feeling better already.”
“Hmm. Are you very sure about that?” you ask innocently, leaning forward with your hands braced on your thighs so he can get an eyeful of your chest. “‘Cause I think you could do with a little more tender loving care.”
Eddie shivers, and it has nothing to do with his being sick. “Whatever you say, nurse. You’re the medical professional.”
The corners of your lips turn up in a smile and you straighten back up. “First order of business,” you call over your shoulder as you head over to the kitchen, “eat your soup!” 
You open up the cutlery drawer and pull out a spoon while Eddie twists the lid off of the thermos. A curl of steam wafts up from the warm liquid, and he inhales deeply, excited for the first time in two days to eat something.
You hand him the spoon and sit on the floor on the opposite side of the coffee table. He slurps the soup down noisily, and you giggle despite your wrinkled nose.
“S’really good, baby. Thanks for doin’ all this.”
“Of course.”
“And as soon as I kick this flu, I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”
“Ooh, language! Talk like that again and I’ll have to give you a sponge bath.”
Eddie’s eyes gleam with excitement. “Promise?”
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lookingformoondrop · 1 month
Note
Yan!Andrew with his Reader who found out she's pregnant? Spoiler: She didn't want to have children.
Yan!Andrew Graves x Preg!Reader
TW: Unexpected pregnancy, hints at abortion, reader in captivity, manipulation, yandere Andrew, unwanted pregnancy
♡ Notes: I wrote this entire thing while on a train so you'll probably find a wild typo or error font somewhere here. I said in my last post that my next work would be a fluffy one, I lied. Sorry. Remember kids, practice safe sex, and dont act like Andy. Thank you so much for supporting me, anon! I appreciate all the requests and asks from you guys. <33
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Andrew hummed as he removed his shoes and took off his coat.
Work was a drag, his boss was a dick, and his family was unbearable. But despite it all, he had you at the end of the day.
When he came home, he'd always hear your padded footsteps coming down the hall to greet him.
You'd wear one of his shirts or wear a cute outfit he'd pick out for you, all to make him happy.
He just loves you so much.
I mean, that's why he took you in the first place.
You had no idea who he was, only that he was a customer that came at odd times of the day in the cafe where you worked.
He could only guess how poor the pay must've been. How miserable you were... Yes, that's it.
As he watched you, he could spot the circles under your eyes, and he knew instantly that fate had brought you here, or maybe it was a cult summoning? Either way, you belonged with him. And he would bend heaven and earth to keep it that way.
Andrew blinked away his train of thought and looked up. He hadn't heard your footsteps.
That was unusual.
Andrew quickly slipped his bag to the ground and walked further into the house.
The kitchen was empty, minus the dishes and pots from last night's dinner that still remained untouched in the sink.
The living room was empty, minus the tissues scattered all over the floor, and the blankets that pooled the floor.
With his heart racing, he sprinted to the last room he hadn't checked. The bedroom.
He pushed the door open with haste; his eyes wildly searched the room.
The bed was unmade, and the sheets were shoved off the mattress, trailing onto the wooden floor.
As Andrew stepped further into the bedroom and he could hear the sound of the shower, and small sniffles coming from inside.
Andrew let out a sigh of relief, you hadn't left. You were still home with him. But now he had another problem to deal with.
He knocked on the bathroom door and heard a quick shuffle from the other side. The water turned off and Andrew flinched at the sound of objects crashing.
Then out you came, your eyes were red and your hair was messy, as if your fingers ran through them constantly.
You mustered a smile for Andrew, muttering out a weak 'welcome home' before Andrew grabbed your arms for inspection.
"What happened? What were you doing? Why were you crying?" He craned his neck out to try and look inside the bathroom, but you quickly closed the door.
"I was about to take a shower when you came home so uh, I dropped some bath products when I realized I hadn't greeted you." It was a horrible lie, really. You knew lying was one of Andrew's biggest pet peeves, even if he lied consistently himself.
"My little lamb, you're not making a lot of sense right now..." Andrew tried giving you a sweet smile, but the vein twitching in his forehead told you how he really felt.
His grip on your arms became tighter, and he leaned in closer, "I would like to know what you're keeping from me, please."
"I... I was crying," you cringed at how weak your voice sounded.
"Clearly, what else? Don't stall for time you don't have Y/N. Tell me who hurt you, I don't fucking care for the reason."
You peeled Andrew's hands off of you which was surprising giving his intense tone. You slowly walked to the bed and sat down, tracing the thread that was imbedded in your mattress. Your eyes lingered on the white sheets for a second too long.
Andrew followed suit, instead opting to go on his knees in front of you as to hold your hands.
He traced his name on your wrists with his finger and hummed a low tune, unremarkable at best, but it calmed your nerves.
"You are my bleeding heart, Y/N. Everything you feel, I long to taste, everything you love, I devour, and every secret you keep from me I savagely rip apart to find. What could you possibly keep from me, that I wouldn't find out in under a day?"
You kept still, refusing to meet Andrew's gaze.
"You have to promise you won't.. um, get mad." You chewed on your lip as you thought about your next words. The lump in your throat grew harder to swallow the more you thought about it.
How were you supposed to deliever such... news, when that news made you want to rip your hair out from stress.
"yeah, I promise. My little lamb, tell me, what is wrong?"
"I'm scared, Andrew." You looked up.
"Scared?" Answered Andrew, who let go of your wrists to instead settle around your waist.
He continued, "What could you possibly have to fear while with me? Are you afraid of someone?"
You shook your head, "no, well maybe, not yet I-" You took deep breaths, your chest felt like it was going to crack from the pressure.
"Not yet? What does that even mean?" Andrew furrowed his eyebrows and scrunched his nose, trying to make sense of it all.
"Andrew, do you know what day of the month it is?"
Andy groaned; his patience was begging to grow thin. "Y/N, I'm done playing this game with you. Are you trying to provoke me to extreme measures or something?"
"No! Just... answer the question. What day of the month is it?"
Andrew shrugged, "It's the first of the month. It's my mom's birthday. It's trash day. It's Monday. I don't fucking know what this has to do with our conversation, Y/N!?"
"No Andrew, just listen to me! Look, I usually get my period on the first of every month. But last month I didn't get my period."
"So?" Andrew looked at you with annoyance in his features.
"So.... I should have gotten my period last month, but I didn't. I'm not an irregular person and I've been here awhile so..."
Andrew's features stayed scrunched with confusion and annoyance as the words mulled over in his head.
Then it hit him.
Andrew fell back on his butt in shock, staring at you, your belly, and then back to you. The realization so big that his brain stopped the train to language station.
"You're pregnant?" He muttered.
You nodded, the tears that danced on your waterline finally falling. Your chest shook, and you gasped deep breaths, the pressure you had on your chest this morning, becoming ten-fold the weight as Andrew processed this information.
Your head hung low as the sobs shook your ribcage.
Without realizing it, Andrew got back up and sat beside you on the bed.
Wrapping his arms around your head and body, so that your body pushed against his chest.
A gigantic smile placed itself on his face, every bad thing that happened up until that point dispearred in a cloud. The only thing he could think about was the baby you were growing.
His baby.
Finally, Andrew let you go and grabbed your face, lifting it up so that he could place gentle kisses on your forehead. "My Y/N, thank you. This... fuck, I thought you were going to say something horrible, but this? Shit, this is the best news I could have ever heard, well maybe besides news of my sister's death or imprisonment but shit this is even better!"
His kisses became harder and more passionate. But he hadn't noticed the soul that had left your body. Instead, you looked at him terrified.
"But... Andrew, I'm not ready for this. I- I don't even think I'm old enough to be raising children, let alone birth one. This thing could rip me apart." Your breathing became quicker, the pressure on your chest becoming an unbearable pain.
You were so sure that Andrew would hate the idea of children, that he would have the initiative to take this thing out of you, but he was so happy, so much so he couldn't be bothered to notice your despair.
"Doesn't matter. You need to stop worrying about things that haven't even happened yet. You're pregnant, and that's all that matters. You're pregnant with my baby, and you will live through every moment." His smile never faltered as he leaned his head into the crook of your neck, humming a sweeter tune this time and rubbing your tummy.
"I'm not ready," you cried, shaking your head profusely.
Andrew looked up with a smile, trailing his forefinger down the bridge of your nose.
"Doesn't matter."
You held onto Andrew's hands as he leaned forward and embraced you. Sighing deeply into your chest.
"I love our little family. Don't you?"
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Thank you for the ask!<3
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red-writes · 4 months
Text
On a dark and stormy night
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professor! izuku midoriya x student! reader
summary: reader is in love with her professor and izuku is weak when it comes to you...
content contains: daddy kink, spanking, squirting, smut, the nickname 'little girl', reader gets her back blown out.
red's note: a little darker than what I typically write also am I slowly developing a daddy kink? who knows
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it's pouring outside but you're not willing to turn around now. your hair is sticking to your face, your jeans are clingy and cold and you can't seem to rid yourself of the chill that the poor weather brings you. your finger hovers over the doorbell, hand shaking as you decide to press the small button. you've been to his house so many times but it feels different right now, feels like you're making a mistake. the lightning that cracks in the sky makes you jump and almost solidifies that gut feeling as truth but as you're about to turn around the door opens.
"y/n?" he asks, then he gasps and pulls you inside. his house is warm and yet you still don't stop shivering.
"you're soaking wet-- how did you get here?" he asks as he runs to the sofa and drapes you in a blanket, every time you've come to his house he always drove you seeing as he lived further than any professor on campus. he ushers you from the doorway after you kick off your shoes and you don't open your mouth to respond, instead you grab his arm and he halts in his tracks.
"are you okay? what's going--" his words get caught in his throat as he witnesses you. you've dropped the blanket onto the floor and you begin undoing the clasp on the front of your top before it slides off your shoulders.
"'m cold professor.." you say, voice small and izuku swallows hard as you unbutton your jeans, sliding them down your thighs before kicking them away. you unhook your bra and let your breasts free for deku's eyes to swallow whole.
"please warm me up" you plead as you reach for his hand and place it on your hot mound. izuku swallows yet again and his mouth is held open for a moment before he speaks, shocked at your bold display.
"you don't know what you're doing..what you're asking me to do" he says, but doesn't move his hand.
"don't you want me professor?" you look down at the erection poking against the fabric of his sweatpants. "it looks like you do"
he shakes his head 'no' but again makes no move to push you away and so you walk closer to him, so close that your chests are pressed against each other and he sucks in a breath, he can feel how hard your nipples are through the thinness of his t-shirt. he can't do this, he shouldn't do this. you're his student, someone who admires and looks up to him by indulging in this he would be way out of bounds. he could lose his job, he could lose everything.
"y/n..you're just confused. I know, after having those conversations about your life growing up and your father not really being there for you, having a person like me step into that role has you wanting to cling onto me, to have me fill the void of your dad but I'm not him and we shouldn't be doing this. if you leave now, I'll forget it ever happened. I'll pretend I never saw you like this" he states, firmly although his voice wavers when he feels your wetness soak his fingers from over your panties.
"fine" you say and pull away from him, izuku is relieved, thinking you've finally come to your senses but instead you pull down your underwear and kick them to the side, you bend over the back of his couch and spread your pussy lips open for him to see.
"you're right professor, I want you to be my daddy." you turn your head behind you to look at him and your fingers find your clit as you rub circles onto the twitching bud. "professor, don't you want to be my daddy? please say yes daddy...I need you" you moan and izuku's cock drips pre-cum into his underwear, cock hard and pulsing at your words. his feet are glued to the floor but his eyes are focused on every sway of your hips, every press of your fingers onto your clit.
"daddy, please, come fuck me daddy" you whine as you slip two fingers in your soaking cunt and begin fucking yourself with them. izuku curses under his breath and walks over to you taking your fingers out your cunt, he uses that same arm to pull you up and he smashes his mouth against yours. your hands are quick to find the band of his of sweatpants and shoving the grey fabric down his thighs, just enough to expose his cock. you lean back over the couch and he strokes his cock a few times before pressing the reddened mushroom tip against your fluttering hole. in one even thrust he's fully seated inside of you. the girth of his cock had your hands squeezing the back of the couch for dear life. every thrust he gave you felt like he was knocking the wind straight out of your lungs.
"does my little girl like that? does she love the feeling of her daddy's cock stretching her out?" and your cunt squeezes around his cock at the sound of the nickname falling from his lips.
"yes daddy!" you cry and he does as you ask, his thrusts become harder, rocking your body forward and his cock grinds against that soft spot inside your cunt, making your eyes roll as his fat tip assaults it with ease. he slaps your ass and the sting has your cunt squeezing his cock like a vice and izuku nearly cums at the feeling. he raises his hand and slaps your ass again, this time you cum from the burning sensation left behind on your ass cheek. your eyes roll back into your head and your body trembles underneath him as your orgasm washes over you. but he doesn't stop, he keeps spanking you until your ass is raw and bruised just so he can feel that vice-like grip on his cock. you're well past overstimulated, the feeling of getting your cunt fucked on top of having your ass spanked until it was painful had yet another orgasm drawn out of you a rush of liquid shot out of your cunt and onto the man behind you as well as the floor.
"no..stop daddy 'm squirting! stop stop aah!" you cried but he didn't, he couldn't, not when the girl he'd been lusting after for months finally forces his hand. not when he was so close to cumming. izuku looked up from the place where you two met and looked at your fucked-out face, eyes hazy with drool dripping out the side of your mouth. with a mumbled 'fuck' he felt his balls tighten as he came. his hips didn't stop immediately, his thrusts were shallow and he laid on top of you as he finished emptying his load into you.
he only moved off of you when he felt himself soften inside of you. when he pulled away a mixture of your cum dripped out of you and onto the floor beneath you.
"let's get you cleaned up" he says and you stand back up on wobbly legs and walk until you sit on the couch. he follows you and you pull him by his t-shirt to the floor in front of you and it's clear what you want him to do.
"daddy will you eat your little girls pussy, please?"
izuku gulps. his eyes dart from your eyes to your swollen, ruined cunt. his cock was already beginning to swell with blood once more. you were dangerous but izuku just couldn't resist you.
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damiansgoodgirll · 5 months
Note
hey queen, how are you?
can i request something with damian where it’s not really smut but suggestive where he constantly teases reader and she gets all shy please?
i’m better thank you!
damian priest x reader
‼️not smut but very very VERY VERY suggestive
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on my knees for you
everyone noticed the sexual tension between you and damian. well, everyone except you. you just thought he was being funny and playful even in his words always left butterflies in your stomach.
it started with him calling you beautiful or, as you preferred, hermosa.
he knew that spanish was making you going crazy and he loved seeing you all red and embarrassed.
everytime there was an event, you would travel together. he would drive if the show was only a few cities away from your town. and car rides with him was something you always loved. he always let you pick the music, he never bothered you if you wanted to sleep and if you were feeling chatting he would always talk to you.
everything seemed so friendly except his body language was betraying him.
the way his hand would lay on your thigh. or the way he would move your hair away from your face if you were sleeping.
he was attracted to you and if he could he would bend you over his car anytime you were together. he knew he had to control this side of him because he didn’t want to lose you.
but as the days and weeks passed, the compliments became a little bit stronger.
from “that dress looks good on you” to “that dress makes me wanna tear it apart and have you naked underneath my body”. from “i can help you with some wrestling moves” to “i can show you some wrestling moves in my bed”.
damian knew he was testing the water but he loved every single moment of it.
and he knew the game was about to began when he saw you entering the gym.
it was late at night and the gym was practically empty except for a few locals.
“hey…good evening or more like, good night” you waved at him when you saw him.
“it would be a good night if you come home with me” he teased and that simple sentence made you weak in the knees.
“dam…”
“what? i could show you some moves that you don’t see me doing here at the gym” he moved closer to you so now you were face to face. he loved teasing you and you knew it.
“oh shut up” you playfully hit him “let’s train cause we have an important match to do”
“we could do that in my bed…”
“damian!” you almost shouted “get your ass here and help me with those weights”
he moved quickly and helped you with the different weights while he was fixing his shoes. he was on his knees with you standing in front of him “i would get on my knees for you every single day you know…” he whispered looking directly into your eyes.
you felt hot.
you were hot.
“dams…get up”
“no seriously…the view down here is spectacular…i wonder how would you look like this but riding my face…” he got closer to you body. you were lucky the only people in the gym were in a different room, leaving you and damian alone.
“damian…would you help me train or not?”
“would you ride my face afterwards?” he asked shamelessly.
“maybe…” you teased back, taking him by surprise he wasn’t used to this side of you.
“and would you let me bend you over on my kitchen table?” he said slowly coming back face to face with you “and would you let me wrap my hands around your throat?” he held eye contact, knowing that you would have looked away “and would you let me make you cum all night long?” he was taken aback when you held eye contact back “and would you let make you mine?”
you were feeling all shaky but you couldn’t show it. you were completely wet as damian was completely hard and you knew you wouldn’t be able to train now.
“damian…what has gotten into you?” you whispered.
“you have no idea for how long i’ve been wanting to see this pretty pussy…” he slowly wrapped his hands around your waist. it looked like he was giving you a simple hug but you were feeling his dick pressed between your thighs “i want to taste you and make you cum on my lips and then on my fingers and then on my cock…i wanna see you on all fours for me, your ass up in the air while you’re taking me…i wanna leave your body covered in bites and marks…i wanna let everybody know that you are mine…and i wanna see you choke on my dick while i’m praising you for being a good girl…i wanna see you crying from pleasure and being so cockdrunk that you can’t even think straight…i want you to be a mess for me…and then i wanna take care of you, hold you, make you feel safe and protected, clean you up and shower you with love because that’s what you deserve…and i’m willing to do that if you let me” he whispered into your ear while you were trying your best to not whimper anytime he said something horny.
“fuck…what are you waiting for?” you whispered back and that was enough for him to drag you out of the gym and back to his place.
he was ready to have you at his mercy and you couldn’t wait for it to happen.
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simonrillleyyysss · 5 months
Note
simon OR könig when reader is on her period OR when she’s sick :,(
(me rn with both send help)
she’s just cuddled up in her bed with her stuffies whining and sniffling with her achy body poor baby just needs rest ☕️🧦🎀
(on my period too. it’s ok. get well soon!!! we’re bluetoothed 🤘🤘)
⍣ ೋ SIMON AND KÖNIG WHEN READER IS ON THEIR PERIOD/SICK
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ghost
‘y’ feelin’ alright, sugar?’
his gruff voice crooned, sitting at the edge of the bed, gently sliding the bag of sweeties towards you, reaching out to comb his hand through your messy hair, hotwaterbottle pressed against your abdomen, blanket thrown over your weak frame.
‘mhm..s’just sore.. head hurts, n’ my nose is runny..’
you softly murmured, stuffie tucked beneath your shoulder, frail arm reaching up to take his hand, mouth agape as you let out sore, raspy breaths
‘i know, love; want a hug?’
he questioned, kicking his shoes off and discarding of his trousers and shirt, slowly slinking beneath the blanket as you sniffled and whined.
‘don’t want you gettin..getting sick.’
‘i don’t want y’feelin’ lonely, pup.’
he quickly dismissed, laying beside you—arm draped around your waist, gently caressing your tummy as you rifled through the plastic bag, lifting your chocolate and taking a small bite, washing it down with your bottled water, coughing.
‘got you some medicine too, more paracetamol n’ pads.’
you nodded, slowly rolling to face him, stuffy shoved between the pair of you, his hand continuing to coax over the soft pudge of your tummy.
‘thank you, sisi..’
you crooned, snuggling into the hardness of his chest, his thumb moving to gently rub over your cheekbone.
‘anytime, baby. keep your pretty arse here all day, kay’? don’t want my poor doll feelin’ sore.’
könig
‘here you go, mein mädchen.’
the mammoth cooed, gently placing the bowl of soup infront of you as you layed on the sofa with your cat stuffy, cuddling to the plushie, his large hand gently stroking your calf.
‘thank..’ a cough followed,and a moment of silence.
‘thanks, kökö..’
he nodded, leaning over to try and kiss you, you whined and gently pushed him off, covering your lips.
‘i have the flu..’
‘..and? Ich möchte mein Mädchen küssen.’
he mumbled, kissing your jaw tenderly—standing up and heading to the kitchen, lifting your hotwaterbottle from the kitchen table and shuffling back out, handing it to you, a cough following from you.
with a soft sigh, you pressed it against your tummy, playing with your plushie as he watched you, long red hair draped over his broad shoulders.
‘need anything else, schatz? tampons? snacks?’
‘no..im okay, köni..’
he nodded, gently draping the blanket around you with a quick peck to your lips; causing you to sniffle and sneeze.
‘Gut, ich liebe dich.
‘love you too.’
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elexaria · 4 months
Text
i managed to indoctrinate one of my irls into soap mactavish supremacy and she agrees that soap would be a switch.
and its been on my mind how johnny would beg like a dog for pussy, like a good boy 🥺
NSFW — minors dni!!
(brief mention of a mommy kink LOL)
“yer killin’ me here,” johnny grumbles quietly as he watches you dress in front of him. thick, child bearing hips on display for the entire world to see as your hands reach up to mess your freshly curled hair. your quite literal little black dress made you look like a goddess, and it was killing your boyfriend with how hot you looked. “yer gunna be the death o’ me.”
“it’s only for a couple’a hours, johnny.” you coo, reaching down to cup his stubbled jaw in your soft hands, pressing a gentle kiss to the bridge of his nose. he whines, pouting like a lovestruck puppy from where he was sat on the edge of your bed.
it had been a few months since you last had a girl’s night out with your besties, when was the last time you got to let loose and have some fun with them? you loved johnny, but you reckon it’d do you some good to get out the house and let your hair down.
“see you later, babe.” you wave him goodbye, grabbing your keys as you make your way out. still moping around with a face like a slapped arse, john reluctantly lifts his hand to wave goodbye.
“see ye, hen.” he mutters quietly, still pouting.
a few hours pass, and you stumble through the front door with weak legs akin to a newborn fawn. “fuck,” you huff out as your toss your keys into the bowl by the front door, eager to kick off your heels and get out of the god forsaken tight confines of your dress.
the dress that really made the blood of passers by sing as their eyes bore into your cleavage spilling from the cups of the dress. how your thighs seemed to pool out underneath your weight as you sat down, tender skin just dying to be gawked at. it’s like you knew how good you looked.
“johnny—!” you sing aloud, pottering through your small apartment with your heels in hand. “joooohn— you asleep?” you hum, peeking into your bedroom. he wasn’t there.
“hmm. takin’ a dump or somethin’—“ you squint, taking a look over your shoulder to your en suite. nope, he wasn’t in there either.
“fucks sake, john william mactavish, where are you?” you whine out, chucking your shoes and bag down as you begin to attempt to reach around to unzip your dress. frustrated huffs and shouts erupt from your throat at your desperate pawing at the finicky little zip, dying to set yourself free.
“need help?” a voice leers from behind you, almost knocking all the air from your lungs as you squeak with surprise.
“yes—“ you murmur, throwing your head down as you shuffle back towards johnny. it felt like you were standing there for ages, just waiting for him to unzip your dress. confused, you turn around, eyebrows furrowed. “wh— what’s taking you so long?” you pout, cheeks flushed from your night out on the town.
and that’s when you see him, hungrily glaring down at you with those innocent blue puppy dog eyes that serve as a stark contrast to the anticipation that runs through his veins. his breathing is steep, you can hear the faint exhales as he continues to stare right through you. holding onto his thick forearm for support as you drunkenly sway side to side, your eyes widen as you spot it.
a thick, aching throb pressed so harshly against his grey sweatpants.
fuuuuuuck.
and then it all makes sense. his childish whining and pouting, the hesitation to unzip your dress. the poor scotsman is so hard, it’s teetering towards painful. unbeknownst to you, the poor thing was tight fistedly pumping at his furiously red cock, hunched over on the edge of the bed as soon as you left. thinking about how he’d die happily if you let him crawl over broken glass just to lap away at your gorgeous pussy, how he would die a proud man if you just let him worship you the way god intended when he put the two of you on earth as soulmates.
“oh… johnny,” you whisper out, a hand absentmindedly reaching low to gently graze the pads of your fingertips against the cockprint in his joggers. a hushed hiss is sucked through his teeth, his eyes narrowing at your touch. oh, how you relished in how he melted against your touch.
now, that wasn’t to say you didn’t love it when he was furiously rutting into you with his large hands splayed across the small of your waist, his thighs slamming into your voluptuous ass at a maddening pace.
“so… fuckin’… mmh— all mine, yeah? yer all mine, aye? say it, say yer all fuckin’ mine. fuck, lass— need ye to say it—“
“all.. yours— mmh—! fuck, love-“
but there was something about having johnny, your 6ft boyfriend with burly muscles and a thick scottish lilt, on his hands and knees begging for you to fuck him.
and this evening was no different.
with a wicked grin growing on your lips, you can’t help but push yourself onto him. “poor, poor baby. so hard, hmm?” you crooned as you stroke against his erection, his body shivering under your touch. he pouts once more, hands either side of your hips as he feels his cock stirring. your fat tits heave against his lean chest, eyes innocently blinking up at him as though you had no idea why he was so turned on. it’s just a little ol’ dress, after all.
“fuck, hen. yer— fuck,” he barely breathes out, trembling as your small hands press against his hard cock, making him whine even more. it turned him on even more as you grin up at him, knowing how wrapped around your finger he was. he would die for you without hesitation. even more so if he got the chance to fuck you one last time.
“use your big boy words, baby,” you hum, a frown on johnny’s lips as you pull away— leaving his poor cock twitching for more.
“please— let me fuck you— please-“ he chokes out as his hands reach down to squeeze and paw so lazily at the mounds of plump fat that drape so beautifully around your curvaceous body. his pleading is akin to a mantra, repeatedly rolling from his tongue like the most steadfast and devote man kneeled before the altar.
you swat his hands away from your body, chuckling as he winces with a childish pout. oh, this was gonna be fun. almost like clockwork, johnny falls to his knees— his messy head of hair burying against your groin as he presses kisses to your thighs. he can smell how delicious you taste, if only you’d let him lavish your flavours. still, he’s repeatedly begging like a dog for you.
“please, by all that's holy— I need a taste of ye so badly, bonnie lass."
his hands are desperately pawing at the roll of fat at the bottom of your ass, crooked fingers grazing the sensitive skin between your thighs. it makes you tense, feeling that bubbling anticipation that coils in your lower abdomen. you swear you can feel a bead of wetness slowly drip from your cunt already.
“baby,” you breathe out like a confession, your hands reaching down to gently hold his cheeks, thumbs rasping against his stubble like a timeless ritual. his puppy dog eyes are peering right up at you, now pleading wordlessly for you to just give in. to put him out of his misery. that look makes you almost cave in right then and there. how touch starved and desperate he looks on his knees, his fingers still shaking against your delicate skin.
with a nod, you gasp at how quick he is to pull you into his lap, panting like a dog in heat as he practically rips the zipper right off of your dress. you slap his hand, huffing with furrowed eyebrows. “careful! it’s new!” you whine out, splaying your chubby thighs out as you straddle your boyfriend.
like a dance as old as time, you suddenly find yourself bare against johnny, stifling your groans as you’re milking his aching cock with a tight fisted grip. his eyes are focused on your tits, how they jiggle with the maddening pace you’re pumping him with. he’s choking out, breathing in bounds and leaps as you keep on edging him so wonderfully.
“please— fuck, yer gonna—“ he grunts, his knuckles whitened as he grips your fat thighs so tightly, you know it’ll leave dark bruises when you both wake up.
you had a strict no touching rule when it came to his begging. he could look, but he couldn’t touch you.
he could watch at how the blood rushed to your perky nipples, tits swaying and heaving. his eyes could only longingly stare right at your drenched cunt, the dim lighting of your bedroom making your slicked folds all the more appealing to his hungry mouth.
“gunna…. cum—“ he pants out so needily, his hips furiously bucking up to meet your white fisted shafting. and just as you feel the muscles in his cock strain in your hand, churning ropes of cum from his swollen balls— you stop. johnny groans aloud, his lonely cock left twitching angrily.
“fucks sake, lass. please, am fuckin’ beggin’ here—“ he groans once more, head resting against your shoulder as he lazily presses kisses to your neck.
“please.. let me cum, i’ve been so good— waitin’ like a good boy. tried tae wank earlier but it wasnae the same—“
his words are like music to your ears. his fingers creep between your thighs once more, eager to touch you. all the air in your lungs evaporate as his calloused fingertip gently swipes against your swollen clit, your hands raking through his mohawk with a tightened grip. “fuck, johnny—“ you sigh out, allowing him to touch you after so long. “such’a… good— good boy for me—“
“aye. please, i need tae fuck ye so badly, lass. please— need ye to ride me—“ johnny sighs out, his aching member throbbing against his abdomen as he lets his fingers dip into your cunt, almost succumbing to an orgasm at the sensation of your thick, warm juices just running so deep inside of you. you needed him just as badly as he needed you, and it was very evident in how you grabbed his wrist, your other hand pushing him onto his back.
how beautiful did johnny sound as you slowly sank down onto his girthy cock, tears in his eyes as your cunt fluttered against his sensitive tip. “oh, fuck— fuck,” he gasps out, his big hands gripping onto your hips as you began to bounce so greedily on him, obscene wet skin slapping against each other echoing around the four walls of your bedroom.
“mommy needed this so badly,” you splutter out, your voice hoarse with pleasure as you let johnny rut up into you, frantically panting like a mad man whilst he reaches to thumb at your clit. “such a good boy, yeah? fuck, gunna—!”
and just like that, johnny growls as he feels your cunt tighten against him. with a loud mewl, you throw your head back as you’re pushed past the precipice of a gut wrenching orgasm— trickles of squirt spreading out over his happy trail as johnny continues to buck his hips up into you.
“gunna cum— oh, fuck—“ he cries out, eyes clenched shut as thick ropes of cum spill up inside of you, a sigh of unbridled relief escaping his lips. oh, it felt so good to finally cum— never mind the fact that he got to cum inside of you. he swore he could see stars as he let you ride out your high on his pulsating shaft, sucking air through his teeth as you both fall silent.
“jesus christ,” johnny groans out after what feels like forever, gently patting your hip with a boyish grin. “i meant what i said, ye know. yer gunna be the death o’ me.” he chuckles, sitting upright as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. with a content sigh, you lean close, allowing him to wrap his arms around you to draw you closer.
“loved yer dress, by the way. couldn’t keep ma hands off’ae ye. hell, couldn’t keep ma hands off maself after ye left.”
what a charmer.
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