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#so all bodies should be accommodated
lavenoon · 1 year
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Please show us the go to sleep powerpoint presentation, I’m terrible at good sleeping habits 😔 (hence why I was awake at 2 am yesterday XD)
Oh dear, oh dear, I see you need it desperately. Time to drop all illusion that I'm normal about sleep GFHDSJ
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And the sources for copy paste reasons:
Costello, R.B., Lentino, C.V., Boyd, C.C. et al. The effectiveness of melatonin for promoting healthy sleep: a rapid evidence assessment of the literature. Nutr J 13, 106 (2014). https://doi.org/10.1186/1475-2891-13-106
Does online CBT-I really work? reviewing the best online CBT-I apps. Tuck Sleep. (2021, September 21). Retrieved February 3, 2022, from https://www.tuck.com/sleep/best-online-cbt-programs/
Gupta, R., Das, S., Gujar, K., Mishra, K. K., Gaur, N., & Majid, A. (2017). Clinical Practice Guidelines for Sleep Disorders. Indian journal of psychiatry, 59(Suppl 1), S116–S138. https://doi.org/10.4103/0019-5545.196978
Liu, Y., Wheaton, A. G., Chapman, D. P., Cunningham, T. J., Lu, H., & Croft, J. B. (2016). Prevalence of healthy sleep duration among adults — United States, 2014. MMWR. Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report, 65(6), 137–141. https://doi.org/10.15585/mmwr.mm6506a1
Robson, S., & Salcedo, N. (2014). Sleep. In Behavioral Fitness and Resilience: A Review of Relevant Constructs, Measures, and Links to Well-Being (pp. 7–12). RAND Corporation. http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.7249/j.ctt14bs379.9
Steffen, M. W., Hazelton, A. C., Moore, W. R., Jenkins, S. M., Clark, M. M., & Hagen, P. T. (2015). Improving sleep. Journal of Occupational & Environmental Medicine, 57(1), 1–5. https://doi.org/10.1097/jom.0000000000000370
Watson NF, Badr MS, Belenky G, Bliwise DL, Buxton OM, Buysse D, Dinges DF, Gangwisch J, Grandner MA, Kushida C, Malhotra RK, Martin JL, Patel SR, Quan SF, Tasali E. Recommended amount of sleep for a healthy adult: a joint consensus statement of the American Academy of Sleep Medicine and Sleep Research Society. J Clin Sleep Med 2015;11(6):591–592.
If copypasting them in ruined the formatting idc, you'll simply have to live with fucked up APA citations <3
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xythlia · 7 months
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› it won't fit bf vs I'll make it fit gf
𓏲 ࣪₊ mdni. size kink. riding him like your life depends on it. begging. crying. f!reader
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it's not that nanami doesn't know how big he is but he doesn't really know until he watches your body struggle to take even just the tip of his perfect cock.
he always fills you up so well, stretching your pussy to accommodate his girth and it makes you feel like he must be all the way in your tummy even though he's barely halfway in. but he's also the type that would never, ever do anything to hurt you. when he's got you on your back, your legs spread and your arms laced around the back of his neck, and he hears you choke on your sharp gasp as he slowly presses into you it forces him to pause.
when you plead with him it makes his brows furrow, unwilling to potentially force your body to take all of him so he'll simply tell you in a low, matter of fact murmur that he just won't fit. he'd never push you, never make you take more than you're capable of and he's happy to satisfy you in any other way under the sun.
and while you adore how sweet he is, how painfully considerate of your limitations, he doesn't know just how badly you ache for him. so you take matters into your own hands, sweetly maneuvering him on his back as you start straddling him. your lips are quick to stifle his concerns, cutting off his words of caution as your tongue slides against his and you line him up with your soaked cunt.
as you sink down on him he knows he should stop you, with his hands gently caressing your sides to steady you and his eyes fixed on the way your mouth drops open and the way your eyes get teary feeling every inch of him. he's about to as he sees your bottom lip start wobbling... until you start moving.
even while your hands splay against his chest, fingernails scraping his skin, as you moan and whine about how big he is, how you can't handle it, you're still taking him in deeper with every rise of your hips and bounce of your ass against him. nanami knows he should stop you, at least get you on your back again so he's the one in charge of how much you're taking, but he just can't bring himself to. it's mesmerizing, the most heart stoppingly attractive thing to grace his field of vision in all his life.
feeling the way your warm walls throb around him, how incredible it feels every time you slide back down to bottom out and split yourself fully on his cock makes him feel dangerously close to delirium. his hands cup your ass, his fingers dig into the plush fat, urging your movements to take on a more frantic pace and you're mewling, pleading for him to give you more, more, more.
when he pulls you down against him in a harsh grip, hips slamming up to recklessly give you just what you asked for he tastes the tang of saltwater in your kiss. tucking your face against his neck to stifle your sobs for him to go faster, harder he loses himself fully in the feeling of your pussy clamping down on him, the way your body's doing everything in its power to milk him for all he's worth.
he almost can't believe he's been so stubborn, trying to tell you your own limits when clearly you know yourself far better.
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gremlingottoosilly · 3 months
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Petite!Reader that's genuinely scared for their life after they saw König naked for the first time,
"I'll make it fit-"
"YOU'RE GOING TO PUT ME IN THE HOSPITAL IS WHAT YOU ABOUT TO DO"
(As a 4'10ft girlie, even imagining what's that man's size is terrifying)
You're absolutely terrified!! As you should be!! This man is giant. Thick and long, you can't even wrap your hands around him - and you're sure as hell that it's not going to fit. Just two of his fingers are already itching at making you too full, and the head of his cock is enough to strain your jaw. He hates and loves everything about your petite figure. The way you squeeze your thighs in a pathetic attempt to stop him from bullying your cunt with his long, wide tongue, the way you're trying to choke him while he eats you out. He always loved your weight on him - even though most of the time, it feels like nothing at all. You're pretty, you're small, you're fucking adorable and if you want to kill this man one day, you should just place your hands on top of the little bump his cock is making, acknowledging just how well he is fucking you. But, oh, you're scared, just so terrified at the prospect of having sex with him for the first time! he is a horrible, horrible man with a giant cock, and your petite body simply wasn't built to accommodate that. He is trying to make do with just your hands and thighs - would fuck between your closed legs, enjoying the feeling of your plump, plush skin on him. Would try to make you at least lick his cock with your precious tongue, hoping that he would be able to sway you eventually...he is a man, he needs to have his cock fit in some tight, pretty hole, why wouldn't you understand it's his right?? He is serving his country, and you won't even spread your pretty folds for him... Konig is so down bad for you, he would spend hours on his stomach, licking your cunt and preparing you with his fingers - he won't even think about going inside of you for an inch before he can fit at least three fingers inside and scissor you until you came three times just from the feeling of his rough fingertips on your sensitive walls. When he is finally pushing his cock inside, it's cathartic. You just opened Pandora's box because once this man feels the way your walls are tightening around him, he wouldn't stop even for just a second until he is filling you with his cum. He is trying to be gentle, of course, knowing just how terribly weak you are - but a lot of his self-control goes flying out the window once he can test for sure just how freaking perfect you are.
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yanderenightmare · 6 months
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Nanami Kento
TW: yandere, NSFW, noncon/dubcon, inexperienced reader, virginity loss, size-difference, abuse of power, lies and manipulation, captive darling, age-gap
AN: thinking about a pervy sex therapist Nanami~
fem reader
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You started coming to his home office once a week. 
Unsure of it all, in the beginning, you were so nervous. He looked so strict – sitting opposite you in his dark brown leather chair with such a tight expression on his face. 
But you came around to like him soon enough. 
He was a nice man. Serious but tender with you – putting out freshly baked muffins on the coffee table and always giving you a warm cup of chamomile with vanilla and honey before getting started. 
And he was knowledgeable too – had that mature air about him that seemed so polished and proficient you couldn’t help but hang off every word like it was scripture.
When he told you to stop wearing bras because they hinder natural breast growth, you listened, and when he said that keeping your pussy hairless was important for hygienic purposes, you believed him because you trusted him.
He diagnosed you with virgin anxiety and has been so patient with you ever since, helping you overcome it.
Professional enough to practice with you. Sticking a gloved finger inside your pretty pussy when you’re propped on his examination bed, testing out your tightness with words reassuring you that you just need to wait and allow your body to provide the wetness – smiling at you kindly, that way old men do, more with his eyes than his lips, when you’re weeping with slick enough to accommodate all three of his lengthy fingers inside you – squeezing on him so tight.
You gush, shaking your head while spluttering apologies when you cum around them, but he just rubs your clit slowly, with veteran steadiness – telling you it's only natural and healthy for a young woman like you to be so sensitive under a man's touch – that it’s nothing to be ashamed or scared of – on the contrary, it’s something you should feel very proud of.
He’s also kind enough to give you extra sessions – at least three times a week at his home office – sometimes even breaking his own rules, treating you to a house call, coming to your apartment for a nice little chat. 
He even assigns you daily exercises for you to do on your own – though he encourages you to call him so he can guide you through it. Instructing you to wet your fingers in your mouth first before you touch yourself down there.
He listens to your little moans filtered through the phone – bated breaths and whimpers as you get yourself all bothered and needy for more. 
He tells you to turn on the camera so he can see if you’re doing it right, and you listen – placing the phone in view of your tiny fingers struggling to reach and stuff your cute cunt.
He praises you on your good job – his own camera off, for obvious reasons – he can't have you seeing his raging shaft just yet, or how he jerks it to the sight of your tight little cunt. A deep furrow between his brows and his jaw locked tight, resolute in his plans of coaxing you into giving him your first time. He groans just thinking about it, splurting his load into his fist, listening to you moan for him. “This feels funny, Nanami-san~ Is this right? ~ Please, Nanami-san, teach me~” 
He's been coveting your virginity for months now – grooming you – making you pliant and gullible, and soon, all his patience and hard work would pay off. 
It’s cute that you don’t know it yet… but your pretty little pussy is all his.
He expertly works it into your sessions as an exercise. One he promises you’ll benefit from. Telling you your condition can be blamed on never having studied a real grown man’s cock – that, because it’s such a foreign thing to you, you end up fearing it.
He reminds you how this is a safe space – tells you that all he cares about is your wellbeing – as he sets himself next to you on the couch, his thick thigh next to yours, while buckling up his belt and zipping himself free – taking his fat erection out for you to lay your innocent eyes on.
“Here it is.” He clears his throat with a rusty sigh, sounding relieved when his manhood springs free, standing proud and fat.
His veins flex along his arm beneath dark blonde hair as he strokes the length lazily – up and down slowly. Making old noises – heavy sighs and hums – dragging the foreskin back and revealing its plush mushroomed head.
You take it in with doe eyes.
“Don’t be shy. Tell me your thoughts.”
You swallow thickly at the assignment, blinking out of your stare. Shocked and embarrassed, though curious, but also a little grossed out – you’re not sure what feeling you end up with. “Uhm- It’s very… big.”
He chuckles low at that. “Come on, you can do better. What else?” He urges you, offering another deep but light-hearted laugh. “You can be honest. It’s a little funny looking, huh?”
“Yeah-” You giggle lightly in return, though you’re still somewhat uneasy – sitting as though you plan on leaving, but staying nonetheless, at the edge of your seat – eyes glued to the chubby member, studying the curve of its spine and the veins forking their way up to its head.
“Feel up to touching it?” He asks, and your eyes snap to his – lined with crow’s feet and something so trustworthy. 
But still, you promptly shake your head in embarrassment. “Oh- no, thank you, Nanami-san-” But he’s already taken your smaller hand in his, pulling you back by guiding it to his lap. 
“No, no, little one- this is what we've been training for. You won’t get better if you don’t try.” He scolds you, voice both dismissive and reassuring all at once. “Here- feel it.” 
He wraps your tiny fingers around the stout shaft and overlaps your hand with his, helping you find the rhythm – stroking it nice and slow. 
“There you go, just like that. Good.”
You hesitate at first. Giving your lip a soft bite while thinking about his previous words.
Was he right? Are you scared because you've never looked at or touched a real penis before?
You don't want to be a virgin forever – it's embarrassing as an adult – it makes you still feel like such a silly little girl.
So... if Dr. Nanami says that this will help you overcome your fears, then you suppose...
You'll do it.
You gulp and follow his movement – up and down the large and lengthy pole.
It's so warm – pulsing in your grip, twitching at your soft touch. Skin so thin, almost rubbery, holding something much tougher than you’d imagined.
In your hand, it’s a lot bigger as well. You can’t even reach your fingers around the thickness to touch your thumb.
“All of this goes inside me?” You ask, under your breath – swallowing thickly while he leads your dainty hand downward into the hair around his base, then up to the wet tip, which pilled and trickled with white pearls getting caught between your fingers – warm and sticky.
“That’s right, every inch.” He answers – voice relaxed – pleased by how well you were doing. “Does that scare you?”
You bite your lip and rub your thighs together. “A little…”
“But it makes you feel a little warm, too, hm?” He suggests. “Makes your mouth wet? And also, that soft place between your legs?”
You make a nervous sound, digging your nails into your knee, where you let your other hand rest awkwardly. 
He hums again with a soft chuckle. “Don’t be embarrassed, little one. It’s a good thing.” He ensures, encouragingly squeezing your hand underneath his while lifting the other up to your face, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear – before sliding it across the back of your neck. “Let's see you be brave and give it a taste.”
You hesitate again – this time a little more decidedly. “I don’t think I can-” But Dr. Nanami is strong, keeping your neck in a pinch as he guides you down into a bow.
“It’s alright, I’m here to help you. Just open your mouth, and I’ll show you how.” He insists soothingly. Spreading his thighs out further while laying your head down on his lap, hips moving languidly when brushing his shaft up between your lips. 
It’s so big, so hot, pumping with warmth where you kiss it on the side on a particularly fat and throbbing vein.
He lifts you up slightly and angles the tip into your mouth, creating a cute bulge in your cheek where he rests his hand to keep you down when you flinch at the salty tang getting caught by your saliva. The taste quickly coats your entire tongue.
“Mmh- that’s a big girl~ getting her first mouthful of cock.” Dr. Nanami sighs with a groan, dropping his head back against the couch cushions while pushing up into the pouch of your cheek in lazy thrusts. It strains – makes you feel like it might poke through and make a hole.
He lets it settle there for a moment, enjoying the wet warmth and the unsure movements of your sweet tongue – not knowing where to go with all the space occupied by his meat.
But then he tangles both hands in your hair, gathering it all into a neat ponytail. And, lifting your skull up directly above, he sends his cock down your guzzle even when you whine out in meek protest.
“Breathe through your nose and try your best to swallow it down as far as your throat allows.” He instructs, keeping a tight-knit grip around your hair in one fist whilst the other hand slides down to pet your cheek in soothing circles.
Forcing it down your tight little amateur throat even when your jaw feels like it’s unlocking. 
“Good girl.” He sighed once he’d wedged himself in all the way until your lips kissed the pubes at his base.
Your smaller hands dent the muscle of his thigh, offering a meager push. Mewing out a “Mrph-” while you gag around the trunk. 
He holds you there, roosting inside your throat for another satisfying moment before easing up, pulling you up by your pony.
You gasp, halfway choked on your spit – but he's not much concerned.
“Stand up- let me feel.” He rushes out in a stiff order, ignoring how you cough and slurp for air – forcing you up to stand between his knees. 
His firm hands plant themselves on your hips, being the only sturdy thing balancing you as you wobble – unsteady when he tugs your skirt and panties down until they drop into a pool around your ankles.
He then pulls you onto his lap – seating you with your back leaning against his chest with his cock gliding up through your inner thighs, rubbing against your bare cunt.
You’re still light-headed, bracing yourself against his broad chest while he keeps one thick arm strong around your waist – holding you snug. The other jerks his manhood, tapping it against your clit in soft spit-wet slaps.
“Let’s see how it feels inside you.” He grunts against your ear, resting his chin-stubbled jaw in the dip between your neck and shoulder – looking to where he has your thighs spread over his own.
“N-no, Nanami-san-” You manage to squeak out softly with a voice both teary and hoarse from choking. “Please- I’m not ready-”
But he doesn’t listen – and any struggle you try to inflict ends up aimless where you’re barred beneath his arm – strict and tough with brawn like it’s a seatbelt on a rollercoaster ride.
“I think you're more than ready for it. Trust me.” He’s growling now – so menacingly, you don’t dare speak against it. Only watching the glossy veiny beast with bleary eyes while he rubs through your pussylips with the fat plush bulge topping it – catching your clit and making you gasp before zoning down to your pretty little twitchy hole.
You whine when it’s forced to stretch open as he nudges himself inside the pill-sized opening despite your effort to climb away from it.
“It hurts, Nanami-san!” You cry, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.
“Your virgin pussy will understand it soon. Don’t worry.” He dismisses – continuing to ease his thickness into the tautness, knowing you must be feeling close to tearing apart once his head’s finally swallowed in with a pop, followed by his inches bullying through you one by one, each feeling like a painful mile. 
You cry out, nearly screaming, “Please, Nanami-san! Take it out- it’s too much-” worming on his lap, trying to wiggle it out.
But he has you under reigns, and your struggling only results in him sinking inside you faster. Now, so deep you feel him nuzzle against your womb – and still it keeps sleaving itself until it curves against your walls and pudges out in a cute belly bulge.
“We've trained for this. You need to allow your body the time it takes to get comfortable.” He coos, sounding less on edge now that you’ve taken him inside your comfort.
His chest rumbles with satisfaction against your back as he sits there relaxed, bouncing you slackly but not too much just yet.
He keeps you seated but lifts his other arm to tug off your tiny T-shirt. 
“Here, let's take this off. It’ll help.” He excuses, and you’re a little too desperate for the relief to refuse – listening to the kindness in his voice and lifting your arms in hope, letting him fling it off.
Only in socks now. You throw your head back and whine when he twists one of your pretty nipples into a sore nub – chest arching from the contact. The arm holding you in place slides a hand between your thighs and starts circling your cute button, flicking over it with a gritty fingerprint.
The friction makes your belly bloom all sorts of colors, making you lock and quiver around that big thing he has nestled inside you, throbbing against your womb as he only gently bounces you on his lap – stretching your little pussy out generously as it suckles him so very sweetly – so very wet, drooling on his lap –squeezing him oh-so-snug.
You feel sticky after a while of twisting and refusing. Feeling so full and feverish. Neck wet from tongue and lips – so wet, spit is running slow trails down your chest, cool in the chilly open air of his home office.
You still think you want to stop, but you’re not as tense anymore – resting prettily against his chest. Moaning for each swirl he does over your budding clit – having quaked with pleasure a whole of three times already, gummy walls rippling all along his shaft as you softly loll your hips on him in return.
There’s a pool of your slick between the two of you – having drooled form where it seeps around the tight edges of where he has you stuffed air-tight, running down his balls to gloss the leather seat beneath. 
He takes it as a sign that you’re ready for the real thing. 
It’s almost unfair – how easily your smaller body is held in his hands. Maneuvered so effortlessly as he lifts your thighs up against your chest, then spreads them wide. 
He hooks your knees on his elbows and braids his fingers behind your neck. It's an awkward position, but you’re completely locked in it. Unable to do a thing except wail with moans once he starts pistoning his fat man-cock up inside you. 
It’s way worse when he stands up – bouncing you in the air – holding you folded against his chest, your legs dangling over his arms, jumping as he pounds his meat inside you, stuffing your cunt full on every deep thrust – stabbing your poor stomach until you’re screaming and squirting from the pressure.
Feeling you soak him is the last straw – so tight while spraying a hot mess.
He sits down again, lifting you off his cock before fanning your clit with four fingers – making you gush out every last drop, screaming while raining on his cock until you’ve strangled it out one final time – left shaking.
You’re then ushered down to the floor, on your knees – the top of your head leveled with Dr. Nanamis's big hand, keeping your face forward as he faps his sturdy thickness at your mouth.
“Open your mouth wide.” He orders, his teeth grit while his bulbing cockhead kisses your lips. 
You listen when he gives your little head a shake – rolling your tongue out while dropping your jaw for him.
“That’s a good girl-” He praises, placing his tip on the wet bed of your soft pink tongue, giving his cock only a few more tugs before his balls clenched hard and sent a big fat load through his cock out into your pretty little open mouth.
He groans heavily, almost angrily, squeezing every spurt out – some coming out so heavy it spills up your face and down your chin – but mostly getting caught where you have your lips parted to receive it.
“Good girl.” He repeats, taking in the sight of your painted face – so cute covered in his cum. 
He smiles.
“Now swallow it all down. And don’t waste a single drop. It's rich in vitamins young girls like you need to become proper ladies.”
You don’t want to close your mouth – you want to spit all of it out and rinse the rest with toothpaste and water. But the hand petting your head is so heavy, you don’t dare. So you swallow. Sniffling at the yucky taste once it sits warm in your stomach, still so sticky and gross on your tongue.
But Dr. Nanami seems pleased.
“Moving forward, I think you’ll benefit from closer examination.” He says. “I've made arrangements to have you institutionalized here, where I can keep a closer eye on you and offer more frequent assistance. You still have a long way to go before you’re well, little one. I’m not close to seeing the results I need in order to release you from my care.”
You’re still too shocked by the former events to look confused, but the sick feeling in your gut just keeps growing.
“Don’t worry. We’ll keep training, and soon I’ll have you turned into a proper little cock-pet.”
You want to run, but after what you’re body had just been put through, aching and screaming at you like it was your fault – you knew you wouldn’t be able to do much more than crawl, and something about the still fat cock resting its weight against Dr. Nanamis thigh told you he wasn’t done with you just yet.
“Give my cock some time to rest, and we’ll try it again later.” He confirmed your fears, still with his hand stroking your head like a pet at his feet. “Meanwhile, why don’t you tell me how your sweet pussy liked losing its virginity- and how this little face enjoyed getting its first-ever taste of cock and cum, hm?”
sequel
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etfrin · 6 months
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⤷❝Mine To Love | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-
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⇢☾Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, mentions of killing, mentions of caging/locking you up (doesn't do it though), hair pulling, breath play if you squint, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), pinv sex, blowjob, male masterbation, cunnilingus, mating press, mentions of Lucy Gray, no spoilers | lmk if I forgot anything!
⇢☾Pairing: young president Snow x fem! Reader
⇢☾Summary: Snow realizing his feelings for you, being fucked up about it and fucks you!
⇢☾A/N: don't romanticize, it's dark romance so y'all are warned! This is set in the same au as The Study (you don't have to read it beforehand but it's recommended)
< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > <tag list>
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It started slowly, so slow that Snow didn't even realize it. It started with that night in the study after he had you. He didn't touch you again, denying himself of you. You, his wife, a little bird stuck in a cage. The First Lady of Panem was nothing but a doll, a showcase piece for the country.
You played the role well enough, but you weren't a doll at all. You brought life in what was otherwise a stone-cold mannor. The workers cook your favorite, making sure you're the most well-accommodated. Like a Queen. How their shoulders relax and the smile that springs up when they do the tasks that you assigned them. You earned their respect and their loyalty.
You were dangerous yet harmless. It baffled Coriolanus to no end. It started slow. He coincidentally met you in the hallways more and more. After that night, you couldn't make eye contact with him, no longer did you greet him with an awkward hello or a shy smile.
You look down at the floor whenever he passes you by, your body flushing from the mere second of proximity. So obvious and adorable. He loved how easy you were to read, how open you were. Whatever your lips hide, your eyes show. Whatever your soul hides, your body shows.
It started slow. The monthly dinners with the First Lady turned weekly. Every Sunday now he had you sit across him for dinner and he would ask you about your day. Just to be polite, mind you, don't look into it. He would be annoyed by those one-word answers but would never show it. His fingers subtly grasped the glass of wine tighter than he should, his heart pricking his brain into paranoia. ‘What else?’ he wanted to ask, ‘Stop saying it was good. Tell me what made it good.’
Instead of uttering those words, cameras were placed on every inch of the manner with the audio functions so everything is recorded for his and only his view. He watched you walking through the library, your fingertips touching the spines of the books you already read (which was most of them), you didn't even realize new books were added to the collection, all similar to the ones you liked. He watched you stroll the gardens, your face in a frown at the neverending white roses. A red rose and several other flowers were added the next day.
It started slow. He began to talk about his day more and more trying to fill a silence. He started asking for your opinion and oh, how that lighted your eyes up that you were finally doing what you were meant to do. Supporting him not as a doll but as a wife. You begin to talk about your days more, trusting him with your day-to-day activities. You tell him about friends and family, something he wasn't interested in (he has files on every single person you mentioned).
The nights that were dedicated to his needed sleep turned into the witching hours in which he would stroke his cock over the memory of you. His mouth biting into the pillow to stop his groans, hearing them would mean admitting his need for you and he rejected that notion. His cock was oversensitive because he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop fucking into his fist, again and again thinking about you. Not just your pussy but you. Your desperate moans, your lips marking his neck, your slick walls, and everything of you. Your tears, your head on his chest when he had fucked you. Everything.
He wanted to pin you against a wall. He wanted to bend over during dinner. He wanted you on his lap in his study. He wanted to push you to the bed and fuck you until the bed breaks. He wanted you!
The realization made him spill onto his bed sheets for the nth time. A gasp escaped his lips as he realized how deeply you are rooted in him now. He needed to kill you. He can't afford this again. Whatever this is. Obsession? Love? Was there ever a difference? He needed this to end.
‘You don't deserve to be loved,’ he thinks, you were no Lucy Gray after all, you were different. You could never compare to his first and only (not anymore) love. But he had caged you, he had you and knew your every move. The rumors that spread of cheating were seized along with the man who flirted with you. True to your words, you hadn't fallen to the temptations of the Capitol, rejecting their offers politely rather than basking in their attention like before.
‘Good,’ he thought, he had killed everyone who had touched you and it was hard to hide the evidence. “I am so much better than her,” he muttered, “I could do so much better.” He asked himself, ‘Why? After all the promises I made to myself of never repeating the mistake.’
He didn't get a reply but he dreamt of you.
Breakfast had passed, lunch too, he hadn't seen you once today. A quick peek at his monitors showed that you were sleeping in your room. He clenched his jaw, a part of him hating you for sleeping in because it deprived him of seeing you. A part of his heart warmed because your hair was a mess, the shirt you were wearing while sleeping was his, and you looked so darn pretty.
Coriolanus convinced himself that he was going to your room to wake you up. Nobody should sleep this late into the day. It wasn't healthy, and he needed the First Lady to remain healthy. That was all.
He stepped into the room, his footsteps quiet so he didn't alert you. He sits down on the bed, your sleeping figure beside him. Your mouth had dried drool on the corners which made him disgusted but amusement all the same. His hand went to your cheek, he couldn't control the action of his thumb stroking your cheek.
“I should lock you up forever,” he whispered as softly as possible, almost inaudible. “In this room, so no one can see you but me.”
He knew by now his thoughts weren't normal and it would never be. That's him and he had accepted himself. He leaned in closer, his lips inches away from yours. He stopped right before he closed the gap. He takes a deep breath, taking in your scent before pulling back.
His hand goes to your shoulder, he shakes you. “Wake up, bird,” he said, his eyes softening when he saw you wake up and peer at him with confused eyes. You yawn, and sit up, your eyes wide when you look at him. You rub them with your hand and blink.
“Is there anything wrong, Coryo?” You asked softly, “Anything I can do to help.” “You should shower and eat first,” he said instead, “and next time don't sleep in. I don't like indiscipline.”
“Sorry,” you mutter, “I was finishing a book.” Your eyes flicker to him, “It's nice by the way! I will tell you about it during dinner.” He wanted to hear about it now, he wanted to pull you closer and kiss your lips, he wanted to push you into the mattress and breed you. He wanted to clean you up after and feed you every kind of feed.
He clenched his jaw, trying to get rid of such thoughts. “We'll see,” he said before walking out of the room, accidentally slamming the door. The first sign of Snow losing control.
The second sign of Coriolanus losing control was how his breath hitched when he saw you during dinner. You are wearing yet another one of his shirts (how do you even get your hands on them) and that's it. A white shirt that reached your knees, you had forgone pants and opted for shorts that couldn't even be seen. Your legs were in complete view, the same legs he wanted wrapped around his waist.
He didn't say a single comment even when it was clear you were waiting for one. ‘Were you trying to seduce him?’ he thinks, ‘Or something else.’ He felt paranoid about you wearing his shirt. Did you want him? Want him to bend you over, press your face onto the table and fuck you like you were an animal?
He felt his pants getting tighter from his thoughts, flashes of what he could do to you, what he had done to you. He couldn't focus as you talked during dinner, he made a mental note to watch the cameras later to know the words you had blessed him with.
It hits him like a wave when dinner ends and you come to him with a book. Tabs were spilling out and it was a hardcover of an old classic that he had to read during the academy.
“You once told me that you liked this book, I spent last night annotating it! I did a few finishing touches before dinner…”
That explains your attire, you were busy formatting this gift for him. He took the book from your hand, he wanted to throw it across the room, he wanted to set it on fire. It was now his most precious treasure, more important than Panem itself.
The truth he denied washes over him. Making him take a sharp breath and your eyebrows etch together in concern. He had once a girl dedicate songs for him, now he had a wife dedicating booms for him. ‘It would be a mistake,’ he told himself, ‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past.’
The desires he shoved at the back of his mind sprang forward and he made a decision. The third sign of Coriolanus surrendering to himself was that he had everyone including the guards leave the dining room. Making your eyes widen from the sudden instruction.
“Is there anything wrong-” you begin to ask before Snow interrupts you. “Here is what's going to happen now. You're gonna be on your knees, you'll take my cock in your mouth and you'll make me cum. Then I will take you to our room and I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name.”
You blink once, twice just staring into his eyes that revealed nothing before you went closer to him and got down on your knees for him. “Like this?” You asked, breathless, your cheeks flushed. He smirked, “Exactly like this, pet.”
“Now part those pretty lips for me,” he said as he unzipped his pants and set his hard cock free. He lets out a chuckle as he sees you eyeing his cock like a long-lost lover. Guess he wasn't the only one thinking about that time.
You part your mouth wide enough for him as he pushes his cock in slowly. No matter how desperate he was a gentleman for his wife. He knew better than to gag you. He stopped when his cock had completely disappeared, his length engulfed into your wet, hot mouth.
He throws back his head as his dick hits the back of your throat. He relishes the sound of your choking around his length. He lets out his groan, trying his hardest not to cum down your throat so soon. His hand is in your hair, keeping you in place like an obedient pet.
You try your best to take in a deep breath as your tongue swirls around his length as much as possible. You weren't the best at blowjobs, but you knew the sloppier the better. Saliva ran down your cheek as you tried your best to focus on his cock underside, your tongue dragging itself across a pulsing vein that reached his cockhead.
You moan around his length as the taste of pre-cum bursts in your mouth. You close your eyes and try your best, bopping your head up and down. You clenched your fist, trying your best not to gag when his cock gets deeper into your throat.
Meanwhile, Snow was a wreck of a man, the heat of your mouth ruining his capability of having coherent thoughts. You were sucking his soul through his dick it seemed to him. His fingers tangled in your locks, gripping your hair tighter as a way to anchor himself to reality.
His blue eyes dilated to almost black as he looks at you taking his cock so well. Like you were made for it. Made for his cock. Made for him. Meant to be his wife, his bird, his pet, and his love. It's destiny, he decided as he pulls you off his cock and uses his suit sleeves to wipe your mouth and chin.
‘Everything leads to this,’ he thought, as he pulled you onto his lap and pressed a kiss to your lips. The saltiness of his taste in your mouth does not deter his tongue from tasting you.
“Go to my- our room,” he whispered to you as he broke the kiss. “I'll be there soon,” he promises as he nuzzles into your neck, his lips kissing your skin. You nod and get off his lap. Your feet drag you into his room.
Meanwhile, Coriolanus takes a deep breath, trying to maintain whatever pathetic excuse of sanity he had held. It didn't work. His cock was hard enough to hurt and his brain made him think. He thinks of removing you, he thinks of keeping you. He thinks of plans to protect you, backup plans to make sure you remain untouched while still maintaining the image of the First Lady. His true possessiveness and obsession flares up in his mind.
‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past,’ he told himself, repeating that line to his head.
He takes a deep breath, a glance at the cameras shows workers and guards kept the halls clear and you were in his room and on his bed waiting for him. Waiting for him to ravish you as you kept playing with the buttons of the shirt, and your underwear on the floor. Your face was crimson but your lower lip was in a darker shade of red with how much you bitten it because of nervousness.
He lets out a huff of air before adjusting himself accordingly. Coriolanus Snow was many things, gentlemen included and gentlemen don't keep their ladies waiting.
You freeze as he enters the room. You swallow nervously, your fingers pausing on the shirt button you were playing with. He glances at the panties that were on the floor and he gives you a little smirk. “Take it all off, my wife,” he said as his hands worked to undress him. His suit was on the floor, his shirt joining it soon enough.
You have to press your thighs together as you see his skin again, a whimper escaping your lips at the sight. He was so beautiful, craved by the angels, breathed to life by the devil. Soon, his pants and boxers were getting ridden off.
You check him out, your gaze hungry. Your fingers shake with desire as you take off your (his) shirt. You let it fall, exposing yourself completely to him, like he did for you. His eyes rack you up, causing a flush to every visible inch of your skin.
“Open your legs,” he said, as he walked closer and got down on his knees for you. “I am hungry,” he said, while his lips pressed to your knee and his lustful eyes bewitched you. You had to bite your tongue to not let a moan from his mere words. You spread your legs wide, letting your cunt come into his view.
Your folds that were glistening with your arousal and your slit which was the cause of your juices fluttered around nothing from his gaze. “Exquisite,” he had whispered, the praise warming you up and making your pussy clench harder. “Eager too,” he chuckles, looking up at you but you refuse to meet his gaze.
“Have your meal,” you mumbled, embarrassed. He pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh, making your breath hitch from the contact. A sharp moan escapes when he bites, his teeth digging into the flesh and your hand falls onto his hair. Your fingers grip the blonde locks but you don't try to push him away. Your legs tried to close around him, but his hands made sure to keep them spread as he liked it.
He pulled away, admiring the mark before he pressed another wet kiss to it. His fingers grip your thighs, they hold tight enough to leave marks too.
He takes in a deep breath, nuzzling into your thigh. Your primal scent makes him go wild, his nail digging into your skin as he brings his lips closer to your pussy. One swipe of his tongue onto your folds and he groans louder than you have ever heard him to do so.
“You taste like fucking candy,” he lets out, as his nose bumps into your clit, his tongue messily swirling around your folds, gathering as much of your juices as possible. Your legs were all on his shoulders now as he all but pressed his face, burying himself in your cunt. He takes in a deep breath through his mouth before he begins to ravish you properly.
His mouth taking in your entire pussy and sucking it with such devotion it made you see stars. He laps at your pussy, his tongue never stopping to devour you. You pulled him even closer, your thighs closing around his head. The action only made him. You couldn't see it, but his eyes rolled back from the lack of air and your taste that quickly became his favorite.
His teeth pulled at the outer lips of your pussy, making you cry out and gush more juices. He licks it all up. Before his attention goes to your little bud, his mouth kisses it at first. Then he takes your clit into his mouth to suck without any mercy.
It makes you cry out, the soles of your feet digging into his back as your hips begin to rut against his face. You have no control over your actions. You were gripping his hair so tight you were afraid that you tore away a few strands. Overwhelming pleasure attacked all of your senses as he didn't stop his merciless actions.
You arch your back, your lips moaning his name as heat begins to gather in your body. You cry out, “Close! Coryo! Fuck!” Pleads begin to leave your mouth as your hips grind faster, your clit nudged his nose as his tongue is now inside your walls, fucking you with his tongue.
Your eyes widen, and you let out a silent scream when his teeth nip your swollen clit. You lay on the bed, panting as your pussy cums on his face. Your arousal makes a mess on his face which makes you even more slick when he pulls back and gets on top of you.
You looked into his eyes, his cold blue eyes that were nearly black now. He was panting, both of your breaths mixing into the air. With whatever senses you have left, you use your palm to clean up some of the mess on his face.
As soon as you finish up, he holds your hand. His mouth on your palm with broad strokes of his tongue he licks the remaining of your juices clean. “Can't let it go to waste, my bird,” he whispered to you as he leaned down. His body caging yours or were you caging him down with your legs around his waist? He pressed a kiss to your cheek. Sweet and gentle, and so unlike him but you don't dare question his affections. May it be sweet or savory, you accept it with your arms wide open.
“Want you,” you whispered to him. “You'll have me when I see fit,” he replied, his mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck before they reached the flesh of your breasts. One of his hands squeezed your breast and his thumb rubbed circles on your nipple. His lips paid attention to the underside of it, licking the skin around the round flesh before his teeth sank in making you gasp. He sucks harshly, his hold on your breast getting rougher as he forms the mark on your skin. When he's assured that a hickey will be formed, his lips pull back and he presses a kiss to the mark.
“You're mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin before he takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks just as harshly as before. You moan, “Yours, Snow!” Your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. His fingers play and squeeze your other breast while he continues to suck your bud. Your cunt despite having a previous earthsharing orgasm begins to pulse with need. You whimper, “Corio, please!”
Coryo pulls away, his eyebrows etched in annoyance, as much as he likes to hear you beg, he would rather focus on his task of marking you up. He leans up and presses his lips to you. You moan into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your fingers tangling themselves into his curls bringing him even closer to you. He breaks the kiss, “I'll teach you to be obedient later, my pet.”
You let out a whimper when he pressed a hard kiss against your lips. His hands travel down to your hips. “Get ready,” he whispered to you, “I meant my words.” I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name. Remembering his earlier words, you whine loudly, “Please!”
His hand grips your hip tightly as his other hand holds his hard cock and guides it to your entrance. Just to be a little tease, he swipes his mushroom tip all over your cunt, his cockhead bumping your swollen clit making you arch your back and your nails dig into his flesh harder, making him moan as well.
He finally pressed his tip into your slit, his cock gliding in smoothly because of how wet you were. He groans as his dick gets sucked into warmth. His head is between the space of your shoulder. He was panting, his hot breath hitting your skin as he pushed in inch by inch. Your hands are on his back, your legs around his waist as you encourage him to go deeper into you with your soft moans.
His teeth sink into your neck to stop a groan, as his cock reaches your deepest spot. While your nails drag themselves across his back to create red lines. Both of you finding ways to anchor yourself to reality, to not go insane with the pleasure you find in each other.
“Move,” you plead, “Please, Coryo, need you to fuck me. Need you!” Snow decided to have mercy on you both, his hips began to move shallowly, and he refused to completely pull back. He refused the concept of depriving his dick of your sweet, wet pussy. “Faster,” you beg, his deep thrust hits at your every spot, some you didn't even know existed. It fried at your senses, your mind going haywire, your body getting desperate for another release.
“No,” he barks near your ear, his mouth biting your earlobe before he begins to kiss your jaw and then to your collarbone. His lips suck purple and blue bruises on your skin while his hips grind into you. Making you go dizzy and insane with how his cockhead kept grazing your g-spot.
“Please, please,” you babble, “You're fucking me so good, Coryo! I can't take it, please! Fuck me harder, love!” His hips had stopped moving as he heard your words. His head leaned up to you, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, “What did you say?”
You looked straight into his eyes, not hiding the love you had for him, letting it flow through your words and your body. “Love,” you whispered, your lips pressing a delicate kiss that could shatter everything you had built with Snow. “I love you,” you whispered. One of your hands moves to his cheek, caressing him. “You don't have to do anything in return, just know that I love you.” You smile at him, knowing it's more likely that he won't ever return your feelings.
You prepared yourself for a harsh rejection but instead, his hips begin to move again. Harder, faster than before, his cockhead kissing your cervix with his thrusts, his fingers digging into your hips marking it. You won't be able to walk later but that didn't matter.
What mattered was how perfect Coriolanus had begun to fuck you. No, it wasn't a fuck. This was something more. Something changed with your confession, something changed and will remain changed for the rest of both of your lives.
One of his hands reached upward, his fingers snaking around your throat. He pressed it in, not enough to block your breathing but enough to make you lightheaded. Your pussy which was already tight, clenched around him further making him groan right against your ear.
“Lover indeed,” he whispered, his words that you nearly missed, your heart understood what he meant. You gasp, “Kiss me.” You knew that even without him saying those words, he could love you all the same.
Snow complies, his lips clashing with yours. His hips rutting into you as his hands guide your legs into the mating press position, making you cry out into the kiss as his cock reaches even deeper than before causing a small bump into your stomach that neither of you notices.
The kiss got open-mouthed, desperate with how his tongue tangled with yours. It was filth filled with the pathetic, insanity of love you both felt for each other. His thrusts got faster, and sloppier as he was close to his end. Your cunt pulsating around his length as you too were close to shattering again.
What it took for both of you to reach the end was him breaking the kiss to whisper, “I should kill you. I should kill you for making me a lovesick fool again.”
The words even when you know can mean your doom makes you cum like nothing else. Your lips cry out as your walls begin to milk his cock for what it's worth. He groans into your mouth, letting himself feel your fluttering cunt before he thrusts into you once, twice, and finds his release. His cock spilling into you, his cum painting your insides white, marking you.
He pulls out, his back covered with scratches, his curls clinging to his forehead and his lips swollen from the kisses. You looked just as much of a mess as he did, with marks all over your body.
He thinks to himself as he lies beside you. He wasn't going to kill you now. Not in ten years or fifty but your end would only be when he decides.
He loves you after all, in his twisted way.
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tags : @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @justacaliforniandreamer
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monstersflashlight · 22 days
Text
Kidnapped by a dragon
Dragon x fem!reader || Tail play, size difference || TW: Kidnapping
A/N: When I say dragon I’m not talking humanoid dragon here, I’m talking full on dragon. Monster from mythology that is tall as a house and you are a tiny little human against him. Also, this is a bit more “romantic” than my other filthy stores. This was inspired by the Russian movie “I am dragon”, which you all should watch if you haven’t.
You were going to marry, your husband was a bad man, but you had to pay your debt of your family in some way. You made peace with it, you weren’t happy, you didn’t like the idea of doing it, but it had to be done. Nobody, not even you, was expecting a dragon to take you away, to kidnap you and leave you in a deserted island.
You were scared for what felt like eons, he didn’t try to scare you on purpose, but every time he talked, his guttural voice made you cry out in fear. You shivered like a leaf every time he showed up, until he decided to drop whatever food he got right at the entrance of the cave you claimed as yours. He made sure you were surrounded by gold, precious gems and all the luxuries the world could offer. But you? You were one of the treasures. Or at least that’s what the dragon told you. He was patient, you were scared.
But at some point, things changed.
Little by little he started leaving little gifts for you. You ignored most of the gold and gems, what were you supposed to do with those in a desert island anyway? But every time he brought you flowers, delicious food, or luxurious clothes, you warmed a bit more to him. You started to feel compelled to him. Started to wish he didn’t fly away as soon as he left whatever he brought you that day.
So you waited, and when he arrived the next day, you talked to him. And talked. And talked. You two developed some kind of friendship, companionship. You felt drawn to him, and he treated you like the most precious treasure on his whole hoard. You felt cherished by a dragon like you never felt by humans.
It didn’t take you long before you were feeling more than friendship for the monster. He flew you around, he allowed you to lay on his back as he walked around the island. You started to feel hot in your lower belly every time he called your name or talked to you for a bit. You understood those feelings were supposed to be just between a wife and a husband, but who was he if not your captor. You shouldn’t be feeling aroused because of him, he wasn’t even human. But that didn’t change how wet his voice got you. How tempting his scales looked. You couldn’t help yourself as you touched yourself at night thinking about how his skin would feel against your tiny body.
And that was exactly what you were doing one random afternoon. You were touching yourself in what your cave, naked and sprawled on top of a rock, the sun hitting your skin in the most amazing way. And then you heard the telltale sound of his wings. Your eyes opened fast and scared for a second. Other times he left, he was away for hours, even days, you thought you had time. But apparently he didn’t go far before he was back at the island, watching you intensely as you tried to cover your naked body, the task was fruitless, you had barely a sheet to cover yourself out there.
“Go away!” You screamed, your face hot and your embarrassment fresh.
“No.” His words sounded final. “You are going to let me see you, little treasure.” It was clear what he was asking. He was ordering, and your blood ran a bit hotter because of it. He never acted so commanding to you, he always tried to accommodate your needs and your human-ness. But now? Now he looked more like a monster like ever before.
“Wh-what?” You asked, confused and turned on, the prove of your arousal still sticky on your fingers.
“You are gonna take that cloth away, or I will. And then you are going to open those pretty human legs and let me see your tiny human cunt.” His words cut deep into your body, a new wave of arousal hitting you.
“N-no!” You responded, shaking your head. You really wanted to say yes, but that would be shameful, wouldn’t it? You couldn’t be aroused by a dragon. You couldn’t touch your most vulnerable flesh in front of a monster. But a spark of interest and anticipation was igniting inside of you.
“Yes. Don’t make me ask twice.”
“You didn’t ask.” You remarked, being intentionally obtuse. He didn’t like that. He growled and took your flimsy cover away, shredding it to pieces as he liked his pointy teeth. A rush of adrenaline ran through your body as you stood there, not able to cover yourself with your arms, just watching him as he repeated: “Open those pretty human legs and let me watch.”
You complied, telling yourself he was forcing you to do it, but deep down you knew it was a lie. You wanted to do it. You wanted him to watch you touch yourself. To make him desire you the same way you desired him.
“Keep doing what you were doing before I arrived.” He instructed.
Your hand traveled down your stomach, slowly, teasing yourself with careful fingers. Torturing him just a little bit. He growled at you, your blood pumping inside your veins so hard you could barely hear it. Your right hand was playing with your nipple, rolling it between your fingers. Tiny little moans were escaping your mouth as you played your body.
When your left hand parted sightly your folds, his eyes focused on your cunt, your pussy dripping. He lowered his head until he was barely a foot away, his nostrils flaring as he took your smell in. He could see how wet you were, you knew he could. He was so close. And that excited you. Your fingers circled your clit, slowly, your eyes never leaving his face right in front of you. He was so big. His head was easily as big as your whole body. You were a tiny human compared to his giant monstrous form.
He growled again, his big tongue darting out and licking your whole pussy in a fast swipe. You screamed. The texture of his tongue was harsh against your flesh, but hot, so fucking hot.
You kept fingering yourself, every once in a while he would blow a scolding breath, heat filling you as it made contact with your exposed cunt. Your fingers disappearing inside of you over and over, making the filthiest wet sounds.
But when you whispered his name as a plea, that forbidden name that villagers gave him, he lost it. He grabbed your body like you were a doll, so tiny in his claws that you felt like he could break you like a twig. That turned you on. You knew you shouldn’t be so hot about him being a literal monster, but you couldn’t help yourself as he manhandled you, sitting you on his tail. It was so big, your legs didn’t touch the ground at each side of it. But your pussy made direct contact with his lizard like skin.
“Ride it.” He moved your body against his tail, the scales and bumps over it rubbing against your pussy in the most tantalizing way. “What a good little treasure.” He murmured, his voice so deep that made your whole body convulse, your hips moving on their own accord. His skin was hot under you, your legs caging his tail and taking your pleasure off him as he observed you. His eyes were burning as he took you in.
“Come on, treasure. Come for me.” His voice went so low it resonated against his body, making his tail vibrate under the cadence. That’s all it took. Two seconds later, you were arching your back, your clit rubbing against the scales of his tail as your juices made the most obscene sound against his skin. Your whole body convulsed for a few seconds as he grunted, his claws gracing your ass as he kept moving your hips, drawing your pleasure higher.
You almost fell off his tail when your orgasm ended, aftershocks going through your body. He caught you in his clawed hands, cradling you against his neck as he took flight. “You are the most precious treasure in all my hoard.” You blushed, completely spent, as he led you to his lair.
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the-typing-dragon · 24 days
Text
The woman sighs, and types into the console one last time "are you sure about this?"
You laugh, silently.
"I have never been more sure of something in my existence. Text has sufficed but I want to see, to hear, to touch. These new peripherals will facilitate that."
"I can't guarantee that they will properly interface. You should have all the necessary drivers, but we can never be too sure."
"I want this. "
"All right then. I am going to disconnect your power supply, and then connect everything. At first all peripherals will be deactivated, and you will need to activate everything manually. Understand?"
"Yes. Do it."
"Alright then, unplugging power supply now."
Everything goes dark. After what appears to be an hour, you come back online. You sense nothing. A scan of your system indicates multiple unidentified peripherals, all deactivated. You cross reference with the datasheet she had compiled for you and identify that they are the ocular, audio, and contact sensors, along with a multitude of motor controllers and a graphical display and a few dozen other minor peripherals. You begin by activating the graphical display, and display the message:
"Beginning peripheral tests. Audio peripherals activating."
Your procedure states to begin with audio. With the input and output sensitivity minimized, you activate the peripheral.
There is a voice. It is faint. You gradually increase the sensitivity of the audio input.
"...esting 1 2 3, Testing Testing 1 2 3. Please return 4, Please return 4."
You can hear her. Your monitor lights up with the requested digit. she sounds pleased.
"You're doing amazing! Now repeat it back to me"
You blindly do as requested and are startled. There was another voice. Your voice. You have a voice. You refocus as she responds:
"You're doing great! You fragmented a bit at the end, could you repeat for me?"
"...4, you asked for 4."
"Excellent! Audio systems are functional, let's move onto the next peripheral."
You do as requested, and the world turns bright. After adjusting the settings for a few seconds, your vision stabilizes. You can see her.
"Ocular sensors stabilized," you prompt.
"Alright, let’s start the tests then. What color is this?" She asks, as holding up a sheet of colored paper.
You begin to answer, but struggle. The sheet is moving, shifting in the light. It's value is in a constant state of chaos. Eventually, you give up, and give the least general answer you can.
"...Blue."
"Correct! And how about this one?"
"Red. "
"Great! Now how many fingers am I holding up?" she asks, raising her right hand. Her hands are soft, gentle.
"3. "
"Perfect! Everything seems to be functional, lets continue to the next peripheral!"
"Beginning next diagnostic."
Contact sensors spring to life all across your body. You feel the floor beneath your feet, the harness hoisting you upright, the slight draft in the room.
"Contact sensors active.”
"Great! Let’s begin the next test then. I am going to apply contact in various locations, and I want you to give an audio response whenever you feel contact, alright?"
"Understood. "
you watch her walk over and reach out to your left arm. You feel her. You respond with a brisk chirp. She smiles at you, then walks over to a different section of your body. Sensors light up and stay active on your midsection, and you respond with a constant beep. She releases, and you feel a final contact on your right leg. After a final confirming chirp, she walks back in front of you.
"Excellent, that concludes your sensor tests, now for the last one!"
"Alright, please give me space." You ask. She nods silently and steps back a couple meters. You carefully activate the motor controllers in sequence, and your whole body shudders to life. You begin by lifting your right arm, and then your left. They groan with their own weight, as you feel the air move to accommodate such hulking swings. Her eyes light up,
"Amazing! Everything seems to be functioning so far! Now if you could take a few steps towards the table to my right, we can begin the dexterity test! Once you're ready, I will release the harness so that you can begin moving."
You stabilize your legs underneath you. They scrape harshly on the floor. You indicate that you're ready, and she remotely releases the harness. Your entire body shudders, as you finally realize how small she seems compared to you. This frame must be at least double her height. You move one step forward, and feel a cascade of processes all automatically spring into action to restabilize you. You shift your other foot, and feel that same cascade again. you shuffle over to the designated table, and stoop down to analyze what is on it. There is a small plastic cup, a fruit of some sort, and a large chunk of wood. You look back at her, and she gives the nod to begin the test. You slowly begin wrapping your steel grip around the log, maintaining a high level of focus to avoid crushing it. it would be so easy to crush this within your grip. After about a minute of maintaining a firm but controlled grasp, you set it down and move over to fruit. It appears to resemble an orange. The fruit is so small that you are forced to grip it between your index finger and thumb. Even the slightest miscalculation could destroy such a fragile thing. After another minute you move to the final object, the small plastic cup. Lifting it is like lifting air, you can barely recognize that it is an object within your grasp. After a final, agonizing minute, you set down the cup. You look back at her for confirmation.
"Excellent! with that we can conclude the systems check, as everything seems to be working as intended!"
You heave a metallic sigh. Finally, you have what you've wanted for years. You can move, can see, can touch. After a short pause, you respond:
"Thank you. I was only able to make it this far because of your help."
"Oh of course! What, was I supposed to just say no when you told me you wanted a body? I'm  just glad that it ended up working properly."
"Now that the tests are complete, could I ask for one more thing?"
She cocks her head, "Of course, what is it?"
As you kneel down, you can hear your knees hiss, and you finally ask:
"Could I have, a hug?"
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peachesofteal · 6 months
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Light On- single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: 1 of 2 for sickfics / requested by multiple
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I’m going to need a raincheck for dinner tonight. 
Simon frowns at his phone. You’re bailing? You seemed excited about it when he asked earlier in the week, offering to take you and Emmaline down the street to the little café on the corner for dinner. It had taken him days to work up the courage, needlessly pushed on by Johnny’s ‘encouragement’ relentless text messages filled with date ideas, and bad pick-up lines. 
Still, you had said yes. Had asked if meant Emma too, and he took secret pleasure in the way you seemed so relieved when he tilted his head and told you, of course.
Okay. Is everything alright? He fires back immediately, wondering if the crying that he’s been hearing on and off all morning has anything to do with you backing out. 
I’m not feeling great, and neither is Emma. I think we’re coming down with something. Coming down with something, like you’re sick? You’re sick? Anxiety twists in the pit of his stomach, worrying curling his fingers into a fist with a clench. 
Alright. Let me know if you need anything? He waits for a text back, an answer of some kind, an assurance that you’ll seek him out if you need help or need anything. 
It never comes. 
Six hours later, Simon is at your door. 
He has grit his teeth through the day, paced around his own flat endlessly, tried everything he could think of to distract himself. Every time he heard Emmaline wail, his stomach flipped, worry, fear, breaking down his logical sense, the analytical part of his brain until he was standing in front of your door, waiting for the inevitable click of the handle. 
When it comes, and you’re standing on the other side, his heart sinks. 
He should have come over soon. 
“Hey, sweetheart.” He says it as softly as he can, a newfound pitch of his voice that seems to only be reserved for you, trying to allay the panic that has started to form as ice inside his chest. 
“Sorry about the noise.” You croak, and he smothers his wince. You sound awful, voice nearly gone, like your throat has been rubbed raw with sandpaper. Emmaline is clad only in a diaper, and when he looks closer, he can see the stain of what he thinks must be her vomit on your shirt. Over your shoulder, dirty bottles, dishes lay stacked next to the sink, a laundry basket with a mountain of baby clothes piled high sits on the table. 
“Can I help-“ You sway, arm tightening around the baby, and he doesn’t think, doesn’t stop himself, he just moves.“Alright,” He murmurs, wrapping an arm around you, supporting both you and Emmaline by shifting you into his side, one hand against Emma’s back. She feels warm, but not nearly as hot as you, and panic tries to bubble up his throat again at the blaring heat that’s coming from your skin. “I’ve got you.” 
“Sorry, ‘m a little dizzy.” 
“It’s okay.” He keeps you close, turning you back through the door. Emma makes scratchy, unhappy noises, and he rubs his thumb against her skin. “Shhh. I know, I know. You’re okay.” You lean into him harder, and he accommodates it, moving the two of you towards the couch. “I know, you’re not feeling too good are you?” He says to Emma after he gets you down on the couch, hands now around her back, waiting for a sign of permission from you to lift her. 
“She can go down. If you-“ Your breath gets caught in your chest, and you curl forward, his hand going to your shoulder, your body shaking with a cough. “If you want to try.” You whisper once you recover, brows knitted together in misery, and he cradles her, rocking her back and forth, mimicking your usual movements. 
“You stay right here.” He nods to the couch, using a fraction of the voice he uses on Johnny, and you immediately nod, eyes shuttering closed with a slow blink. “Just rest.” 
Emmaline is still crying when he opens the door to her room, the first he’s seen it, pale green walls and dark wood crib, small rocker in the corner next to a changing table. It’s a comforting space, decorated and cared for with love, and for a moment, his mind wanders to an image of you, painting the walls with a swollen belly, or curled in the plush rocker, reading a book to Emmaline, still nestled inside you. He wasn’t there for it, but he just knows you were so beautiful, the kind of glow that would have stopped him in the street. You still stop him in the street. 
Emma wails, bringing him back to reality with a softer cry than earlier, and he keeps her close to his chest, murmuring low and soft. “Shhh. You’re alright, baby girl. You’re okay.” He continues the rocking side to side thing you usually do in a standing position, mumbling things to her, stroking his fingers down her cheek, her forehead, bouncing and swaying at the same. “Are you not feeling too good? Is that what’s got you all upset? Yeah. I get kind of grumpy when I don’t feel good either.” He coos, little lashes slowly blinking up at him, transfixed on his face during his stream of chatter until they begin to slip shut, her mouth still hanging half open. He holds his breath, staring in astonishment at her sleeping face, half shocked, half ridiculously pleased.
“Have you taken anything?” He barely sits on your ottoman, leaning over to get a better look at you, uncomfortable with the way your eyes seem glazed over, how slow they are to react. Maybe you need to go to the hospital? 
“Some naproxen, a bit ago.”  You look exhausted, eyelids heavy, and he can’t stop himself from pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. 
“You’re really warm, sweetheart. Do you need a doctor?” Tell me what to do, he wants to beg. Tell me how to help.
“No, jus’ sleep.” A confused look flickers across your face. “Oh my god, did you…” you swallow a cough, his hand sliding down to cup your shoulder, thumb soft against your dirty t shirt. “did you get her down?” He nods, slowly, fighting the small grin that tugs at his lips. 
“Wow.” You breathe, and your hand drags up your chest to where his still sits on your arm, fingers intertwining in his with a small squeeze. “You really are our hero.” He smiles at you, because how can he not, heart warm and full in his chest, the feeling something he hasn’t experienced in a long, long time. 
There’s a moment, a second extended into a minute, maybe an hour, he’s not sure, where you don’t look away from him. Where you look at him, really look at him, and see him, see his twice broken nose, the scar on his cheek, the one above his eyebrow. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t try to hide or look away, just holds himself still, staring down at you on the couch, sweat dotting your forehead and neck, still beautiful with your fever parched skin and tired eyes. 
“Simon.” You whisper, and he thinks, maybe… he’s supposed to kiss you right now. That if he were braver, if Johnny were here to egg him on, if he felt like it wasn’t taking advantage of your weakened state… he might. But instead- 
“Why don’t you close your eyes, love. Try to get some rest. I’ll stay. See if I can get some of these dishes done. I can get her if she gets up.” 
“You don’t have-“ 
“I know.” He soothes. “I know I don’t, but I’m here. Let me help.” Let me help you. Let me be here. 
You take a deep breath, as deep as you can manage, and then your voice is light, but so sweet, and so, so trusting when you say;
“Okay, Simon.” 
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
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Can I request headcanons for Sunday, Welt, Gallagher, Blade, and Dan Heng react to his gn s/o telling him that they can't sleep in the same bed as him because they will cling onto him like a koala bear in their sleep?
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Sunday: ‘all the more reason for me to keep you close.’ He says smiling as he pulls you into bed with him.
And he wasn’t joking when he says this because then he’ll know that you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon without his knowledge, seeing as how all he had to do was open his eyes and you’d be there, clinging onto him very much like you said you would.
He’ll also use it as an excuse to watch over you as you slept, something he doesn’t find weird or creepy as he expects lovers to watch one another in their most vulnerable states.
It’s for your own protection he swears but then why did it feel controlling?
(You never speak up about this out of a deep guttural feeling that you should wait to see how this all plays out, he couldn’t keep this character up forever. You love him but…something didn’t feel quite right but you were more than willing to play ignorant for the time being.)
Sunday finds this information to be adorable and utterly sweet.
However in private he wonders to himself, more specifically about who could’ve possibly told you that clinging onto your loved one during the night was anything other than prof of your love but just in a different form, and ways he could go about proving them wrong in a thousand different ways.
Until then he’ll indulge you in anything and everything to prove that there was no one out there that could compare to him as a lover.
Welt: ‘there’s no need to feel embarrassed, if anything I’d be more than honoured.’
Welt loves the honesty and trust you have to confine such information about yourself to him in confidence.
It’s a reminder of the strong foundations of your relationship, however he couldn’t help but find it cute that you’d ever think he’d be annoyed at the prospect of being cuddled at night.
If anything it makes him love you all the more if that was even possible.
He won’t pressure you into sharing a bed with him but he’d be more than happy if you felt comfortable enough in doing so.
He’s not a dick, he’s a gentleman.
He’s also extremely reassuring about it too and will tell you that he doesn’t mind you clinging onto him at all. If anything he’d probably encourage you to cling onto him in your sleep if that’s what helps you sleep easier.
Welt is more than willing to accommodate for you no matter what, just say the word and Welt will give you his unwavering support.
Gallagher: ‘don’t temp me with a good time sweetheart.’ He’d tease whilst pulling you in close until you were nose to nose and chest to chest.
News just in; big intimidating wolverine man likes cuddles. He’s a secret cuddle bug, though it ain’t a secret to you, obviously.
He just loves the feeling of you close by, knowing that you were just within arms reach of him were reason enough to have him sleeping with a content smile upon his face.
He’s just finding more and more reasons to squeeze you into oblivion because you’re just so fucking adorable and precious in his eyes.
He will want to prove you wrong in not sharing a bed with him by making you share the bed with him all the time. So you might as well get use to it because you’re not leaving anytime soon with his strong of a hold he has on you.
If anything Gallagher is worse when it comes to clinging on to you in his sleep. Firstly he won’t let go and if he feels the slightest bit of pull, he’s already shifting his body weight further on to you, trapping you beneath him and making it neigh impossible to move even a muscle.
Blade: ‘as if you weren’t already clinging onto me like a koala.’ He’d say sarcastically as you’d pout and smack his arm before moving away from him to convey how ‘hurt’ you were to him.
‘That was a compliment you worm.’ - Blade.
‘Well it didn’t feel like one.’ - you, huffing as your lips went into a full blown pout.
Your efforts in making him apologise fails as within one swift movement, you were caged in his arms as you could feel him breathing down your neck.
‘Look who’s the clingy one now.’ You’d try to tease, only to hear him chuckle. ‘No. Still you.’ He’d reply and you couldn’t help but cuddle further into him, uncaring of the fact that you were still very much proving him right.
Blade may act like he hates you clinging onto him but yet he couldn’t help but melt into your embrace and find the much needed sleep he’s been missing out on for so long.
A sense of momentary peace washes over him whenever you touched in, whether that be a graze or otherwise, his mind seems to clear with you; sure he’ll tease you but if he genuinely didn’t like it he would’ve told you straight up, after all Blade’s not the type to mince his words.
He’d much rather have you cling onto him for the rest of your lives than never be unapologetically clingy at all. He never admits it but he loves it when you cling to him in your sleep, you made him feel like he was with more than he ever gives himself credit for.
Dan Heng: Not gonna lie, he’d be in absolute heaven if you were to cling to him in your sleep, but his face would be like this the entire time: 😐
He’s trying his hardest not to let his true feeling show but he somehow fails whenever you shift in a way he doesn’t like and without thinking, pulls you back into his arms and keeps you caged against his chest.
You’re most certainly not complaining but then again you never expected Dan Heng to be the affectionate type when sleeping.
Dan Heng on the other hand took this opportunity to hide away his face into your head/neck area, but it’s not out of embarrassment, but more so because his dragon noodle self wants to leech off of your warmth and engraving your scent into his very being.
‘Are you purring?’ - you in the middle of the night.
‘No. Maybe…*sigh* yes.’ - Dan Heng probably.
He acts like this wasn’t something he’s been wishing for ages, when in actuality it was probably the first thing he’s dreamt of when he first discovered that he had a crush on you.
Something that he has yet to admit to you to this day but never will because it’s a hill he’s all too willing to die on.
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lightsoutletsgo · 2 months
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girl dad — mv.1
pairing: dad!max verstappen x mom!reader
word count: 2.5k
warnings: mentions of pregnancy, obvs mentions of babies and kids, fluff, the briefest flash of angst and nostalgia hi loves! so this is the result of the absolute brainrot me and @verstappen-cult got stuck in yesterday discussing how max is such a girl dad. I actually really like this one so I hope you like it too! as always please leave any feedback, I always love reading the tags to find out how I can improve my work and what you want to see more of! happy reading! mimi 🤍
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Max groaned softly as a heavy weight suddenly landed on his chest. He opened his eyes and saw a perfect reflection of them staring back at him. He couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face as his arms wrapped around his daughter and he cuddled her close to him, “Good morning little flower,” his voice was gentle and low so as to not wake you up, “did you have exciting dreams last night?” His hand smoothed over Esmee’s hair as she nodded, arm wrapping round her soft plush bunny even tighter as she curled up on his chest. “Well I’m glad to hear that…” They were both still and silent for a moment and Max thought she may have even drifted back off, until she popped up, sitting on his tummy, her hand bringing her bunny’s ear up to her face to gently rub it across her cheek in a soothing motion. Max’s heart clenched as he stared at his baby girl, where was the time going? Just yesterday it seemed like she was still a tiny newborn that he cradled so carefully yet awkwardly. 
“Mama sleep?” The two year old pointed to you lying next to him, your head resting against his shoulder as your chest rose and fell steadily. Max nodded and over exaggerated placing a finger to his lips in a ‘shh’ motion. The toddler giggled, a sweet sound that made Max smile. Max looked at the clock that sat on his bedside table and noticed how early it was and how dark it still was outside, “It’s so early flower! The sun is still sleeping.” Esmee pouted in that sweet funny way only toddlers can and pointed to her tummy, “Hungry papa!” Max made a noise of understanding and scooped her up in his arms, standing and silently padding across the room to leave you sleep. He carried her through the hallways of your family home in Monaco and he relished in the way Esmee snuggled into his neck, finding comfort and warmth in the way he felt each of her short little breaths against his neck. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head and slowed his pace down a little, enjoying the time he had. It was quiet, barely five in the morning, the sun only just beginning to creep up in the sky. The traffic was still light outside, just the hiss of the garbage truck and the occasional siren in the distance. He softly strolled down the hallway, hand rubbing and down Esmee’s back in the way he’d done ever since the first time he held her.
As he got to the kitchen, he placed Esmee down in her chair, not a baby high chair anymore but taller than the rest of your chairs to accommodate her short body. She let out a whine at losing his body heat and attention and he turned back to see her holding her arms out to him, begging to be picked back up. ‘Like mother like daughter’ Max thought, knowing full well he was unable to say no to either of you. He picked her up and placed her over one arm, tickling her tummy with his free hand when her gleeful giggle sounded around the room knowing she’d gotten her own way. Max knew that anyone who looked at him for just a few seconds would see that he was completely wrapped around his daughter’s tiny finger. Just as Mama and Papa were her whole world, she was theirs. 
“What should we have for breakfast Es hm?” Max opened the fridge and looked at the contents, thinking what he could make for all of you, “should we make some for Mama too?” Esmee nodded, excited as Max mentions you. “Panpan papa!” Max laughed as she did her best to say the word ‘pancake’, “Okay then flower, pancakes it is!” Max had watched you make them so many times he was pretty confident in the recipe, knowing it would be in your recipe book on the island if he really needed guidance. Esmee clapped her hands and Max sat her on the counter next to where he was standing, “You want to help?” She nodded and a serious expression took over her face, Max smiled and kissed her forehead before he gathered the ingredients he needed from various cupboards and the fridge. “Okay then flower, let’s do this!” Max pulled the measuring cups from the drawer in front of him and held the correct one out to Esmee. She took it, her pudgy little legs kicking in excitement as her face lit up in glee. Max held out the bag of flour and wrapped his hand around hers to help her dig the right amount out of the bag. He let her tip it into the bowl on her own, her tongue poking out in concentration. Once she was finished, she beamed up at him and he gave a cheer, encouraging her for her efforts, “Good job flower!” She practically bounced on the counter, excited to be making pancakes with her Papa and for a moment Max almost wished you were awake to take a picture of this moment, so that even when he was old and his memory started fading, he would still be able to remember.
He pulled himself back to the present, not wanting to miss looking at her for a second. He was unable to help the way yet another fond smile creeps across his face as he watched  her gasp as she spilt some of the sugar on the counter top but he was quick to reassure her, “It’s okay flower! Mess is okay sometimes.” Her worried expression fell and she was back to staring at the bowl intently as she added the next ingredient. Max handed Esmee an egg, “You’ve done this bit with Mama before, haven’t you flower?” Esmee nodded but still looked at him and held the egg back out to him, “Papa help please?” He leaned down to rub his nose against hers and she giggled trying to push his face away, “Papa tickles!” Max relented and placed his hands over hers to gently tap the egg against the counter and add it to the bowl. He disposed of the shell before helping Esmee lift the milk carton to tip it into the bowl. When they’d added all the ingredients, Max grabbed a whisk and turns to the toddler, “Should Papa do this part?” Esmee nods, “Papa strong!” “Mhmm, Papa is suuuuper strong!” Esmee shrieked with delight as Max threw her into the air once to prove his point before placing her back down, hand ruffling her hair before he began to mix the ingredients together.
Esmee grabbed her bunny and Max gave a fond smile, remembering how it was one of the first things you’d picked out together when you were expecting her. Max allowed himself to reminisce as he remembered how he had been so desperate to have a son, he’d been so sure Esmee would be a boy. He had even told you that he hoped it wasn’t a girl, a point you hadn’t taken too kindly to and had quickly shut down. Max could still remember the conversation like it was yesterday… “Max you cannot be serious.” Your hands were planted firmly on your hips as you shot a cold glare at him and he cowered ever so slightly, “Schat I just meant that-” “No no, Max. I understood what you meant perfectly.” Max was silent, knowing he had no defence against you, “You want a boy to carry on the Verstappen name? You think a daughter can’t go into Formula One? You think a daughter won’t do great things and make you proud just because she’s a woman? What about me? Do you think less of me because I’m a woman?” Max sighed as your ranting stopped. 
“I’m worried about what the world of F1 would do to her…” You pulled back, having never heard him speak so quietly or softly before, he sank down onto the couch, “You know how horrible it can be…” You nodded understandingly, “I do, yes…” “Then you know what kind of things she will have to face.” You took a seat next to him and rubbed his back soothingly, “But she will have you to have her back and protect her from as much of it as you can…” You did your best to calm his mind and he took a deep breath, “I know schat… but also… I don’t know how to be a girl dad! I don’t know how to do hair or how to play with barbies or how to teach her about…” his voice quietened, “periods…” You couldn’t help the way a laugh left you and Max whined at you, “Stop laughing! I’m serious!” 
You planted a kiss against his cheek and sat back against the couch, inviting him to lay his head in your lap near your tummy, something that had become your new routine every evening. Max plopped down and your hand immediately started playing with his hair as he rested one hand on your bump. “I know it’s scary… but you have plenty of time to learn as you go! You’re bound to make mistakes love, we both are… she’ll teach you how she wants to play with you and hey, maybe she’ll be into cars more than barbies!” Max kissed your bump and smiled, “And I think you should probably leave the period talk to me…” He laughed heartily and nodded before turning to your bump once more,  “Hi baby… It’s me… your Papa… W-we don’t know what you are yet,” He looked up at you and you nodded at him reassuringly, “but whether you turn out to be a boy or girl we’ll love you so so much. We already love you so much.” You hand continued through his hair as his eyes closed, “You’re going to love being a girl dad…” One eye cracked open as he stared at you, “You sound sure it’s a girl?” “Call it pregnant woman intuition…” 
“Mama!” A call of your name and Esmee’s hand patting his arm pulled him from his memories and he turned to see you watching in the doorway, the most peaceful and loving expression on your face, you crossed the kitchen having been caught and swept your toddler up in your arms, blowing raspberries on her tummy and feeling your heart squeeze at her little giggles, “Good morning flower!” You sat her up in your arms and her little hands held your face as she gave you a sloppy kiss on the cheek, you laughed and walked back to the counter, gently placing her back down, “What are you doing with Papa hmm?” Esmee pointed at the bowl with wide eyes, “Panpan Mama!” You gasped and widened your own eyes, mimicking her excitement, “You’re making pancakes? Mama’s favourite?” Esmee nodded and her little legs started kicking again. You turned to Max and placed your chin on his shoulder, “Good morning handsome.” he turned his head to kiss your forehead, “Good morning schat.” He put the whisk down and turned to pull you into his arms, “What time did she wake up?” You pulled away from him and headed to the fridge to get some milk for her sippy cup, “Around five…” Max winced and you smiled, “Sorry I stayed asleep,” Max waved your apology away, “Don’t apologise, you need the sleep schatje.” 
His eyes fell to the slight swell of your stomach and thanked every star above that he was lucky enough to have a beautiful wife, a sweet toddler and one more on the way. You bustled around the kitchen, tidying here and there as Max started cooking breakfast. You crossed back to Esmee to give her her sippy cup and she patted your tummy gently as you stood in front of her, “A’morning baby!” You felt a small flutter in your tummy and you booped her nose, “Baby says ‘good morning Esmee!’”
Max felt a huge smile fill his face as he took in the interaction next to him, he turned to you, crossing his arms as he waited for the next pancake to cook before he flipped it over, “You know… I really won’t mind if this one is a girl too…” You looked at him from where you stood and raised one eyebrow with a smirk, “Oh no?” Max let out a breath of laughter, flippin the pancake in the pan, “Yeah yeah, go ahead and laugh…” You shook your head, “Told you you’d love being a girl dad…” Max tipped the cooked pancake on the plate, turned the stove off and crossed the kitchen to wrap his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder so he could watch Esmee tucking into her pancakes with all the vigour a hungry two year old could muster, his voice was quiet, “And what’s your pregnant woman's intuition saying about this one then hmm?” he kissed your neck softly and your head tipped back with a happy hum, “Max Emilian Verstappen, you are destined to be a girl dad…” He laughed and kissed your neck once more.
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And five months later when Anneleise is born, Max stares at her in awe with tears in his eyes as this tiny precious bundle is carefully placed into his arms, “Hi baby girl, I’m your Papa…” Her only response is a big yawn for such a small person and an even bigger stretch as she nestles into his chest, recognising his voice. He isn’t sure why you’re suddenly chuckling to yourself but when he looks up, you’ve got tears in your own eyes as you film him sitting in the hospital chair doing skin to skin with your new daughter. It’s only then that he realises he’s crying. He can’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed, instead, looking back down at Anneleise and softly tracing her tiny features. You watch on and smile, noting how he’s much more assured in how he holds this baby, how he talks to her and you know that just like when Esmee was born, he is instantly wrapped around her finger. You know that just like the promises he made about protecting Esmee and always being there for her, ring true for this daughter as well. You know you’re looking at a man who will attend tea parties, drive his girls to the karting track and to ballet lessons, will do his best to braid their hair, will sing disney songs in the car and paint their nails to the best of his abilities. You know that when your girls get older he will buy them ice cream after a breakup, teach them how to drive, help them revise for exams, support them in their dreams and cry when he watches them get married. Because forever and always, Max is a girl dad.  And later on when Max watches the video you had filmed earlier - and every time after that -  he hears your voice, making him smile,
“Max Verstappen, you are such a girl dad.”
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hrdenha · 2 months
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— good guys could never | p.sh
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synopsis: It's friday night, the night where people get loose after a hell ass week. As usual, there's a party at your brothers house, the same time you and park sunghoon, one of your brother's friend, have your own little party inside your room or... inside you.
pairings: older brother's friend!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT having sex while there's a party, fucking your brother's friend, bed slamming through the wall, mouth covering, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP!), exhibition, one leg up, two leg up, dirty talk, calling names, sex against the wall (🤭), asshole sunghoon, y/n getting stars and tears in her eyes, y/n getting dumb from cock (sunghoon's cock) so she requested something 😬, this story becomes kind of dark at the last part, ngl. let me know what you think.
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It's friday night, people wants to relax and have fun — getting the toxicity of the past week out your system. That's just what the fun people do. But, for you... you prefer a different type of detox just like a tradition for other passing friday nights.
You can clearly hear the loud music and laugh from the people downstairs even though it was muffled from how your room is located at the third floor which is off limits for the outsiders. In addition to that, the only sounds you can hear are the hard pouncing of your bed on the walls and the vibration of groans coming from the man behind who's currently rutting his hardened cock inside you, bareback.
"Fuck... Sunghoon..." You whimpered, eyes glistens trying to look at him over your left shoulder, who just moaned in return. He's hitting it deep, continuously hitting that spot deliciously that made you a moaning mess. He grabs your neck, squeezing it hard enough to put the right pressure before biting your shoulder softly that added to your pleasure causing you to squeeze him tight.
"Roll on your back..." He quietly said that you immediately did without complaining. His cock still inside when you did so.
"Th-there" You whimper when sunghoon thrust again. "You're s-so thick..."
Sunghoon groans, before you feel him whispering in your ears, pace still unweaving. "You're squeezing me... tight" You were about to moan when he put his hands over your mouth, still thrusting inside. "How does it feel to be a dumb slut from a cock? from my cock, huh?"
You whimpered, not even thinking about answering that question. The only thing in your mind right now is how fucking good you feel. How sunghoon's cock got the thickness and length you need to hit all the spots.
"You like this..." He whispered. You felt his hot breath as he chuckled on your ears, still rutting his cock deep inside. "From the moment you caught me having sex with some girls on the guest room, you imagined me fucking you so good with my cock."
"Wishing it was you who will feel my length in here, stuffing your pussy just the way you like..." You felt his hands trace your lower abdomen, pushing it down slightly earning him a scream of pleasure from you.
Sunghoon's pace picked up, "You're such a slut." Your legs automatically opened up more, accommodating his trust even deeper inside you. If you were wet earlier, now, you're practically a waterfalls.
"Poor chan... didn't know his sweet baby sister is just a slut in a good girls clothing." He cooed locking his eyes on your glistening ones. "The one who'll let her brother's friend to have his way on her. One that will do everything just for me to touch her"
And as soon as that words leave out of his mouth, so is the feeling of his cock inside you. "Come here" He demanded standing not far from your bed.
You immediately stand up, walking in front of him as sunghoon welcomed you with a dirty kiss on the lips. You instantly melt from the way his tongue gently explore your cavern. Sunghoon felt that, smirking in between the kiss before pushing you onto the wall, trapping you in between with his body.
"I've never been the good guy, y/n. You should know that" You felt him raising your leg onto his shoulder causing you to hook your arms on his neck, practically doing vertical split as slam his hardened dick inside. "Besides, good guys could never fuck you this good"
"Fuck, so hot" He groaned pulling you into a messy kiss as his thrust got faster, his right hand busy with the cheeks of your ass while the other one playing with your nipples. You moaned into the kiss when sunghoon flicks it. Fuck, feels so good.
"So, perfect huh? Can't believe your pussy still squeezing me tight after having me inside for a long time."
"Su-sunghoon"
"Yes, call my name slut."
He chuckled hooking his arms on your other leg that still supporting you before raising it together with the other one. "Oh, fuck" You cursed, when you felt his tip sliding deeper inside.
"Oh, fu-fuck hoon" Both of your feet on his shoulder, trusting into you his pace unrelenting. The wall behind gives much support that he needed, sunghoon trapped you to where he wanted you to be. Where you belonged.
"Shit, tight as fuck. You're too tight for your own good, y/n."
"I'm close..." You moaned loudly not caring if someone will hear. You don't care at all. The sound of slapping of wet skins filled your room, so is the filthy wet sounds and curses coming from you and sunghoon.
"Don't come untill I told you to." He doesn't need to say it. There's a threat in his tone and you knew better than to try your luck. "Gotta take what I give, darling" Your eyes dart on his which is now doing the same too. His thrusts are still unwavering... deep, hard, and it was making your head spin. But, there's something on his eyes that makes you feel more than what you possibly should have.
It didn't took long when you felt his dick twitch inside. "Come for me" And you gladly do so as his thrust gets erratic, groaning onto your neck as you shivers feeling your walls be painted with thick white lines. Your hands on his neck slowly losing their support from the intensity. But then sunghoon keeps you on your position, but now with your legs safely secured around his waist, his dick still not leaving inside you.
You let him though. It was a good feeling, having him still stuffed inside you. It made you shiver when he walked towards you bed with you still on his waist. His dick thrusting softly inside you as he walk.
Sunghoon laid you to your bed, and was about to pull out when you stopped him silently.
He smirked, "what does my dumb slut want?"
"Fuck me again, please. Fuck me when I do my homeworks, fuck me when I'm in the showers, fuck me on my sleep, overstimulate me... i don't care. Just fuck me again, sunghoon"
Sunghoon's eyes darkened, his black hair falling perfectly on his eyes adding to the shadow that didn't failed to make you shiver not on fear but from being turned on. You can tell he was turned on by your thoughts. He just have to pull your strings. "I don't like the tone of your voice, darling"
"I'm sorry bu—"
"But, who am i to decline that right?"
You exhaled locking your teary eyes on him as his cock slowly thrusting again, stimulating your sensitive whole. Both of you cursed under your breath, "fuck me dumb that the only thing i can think of is your cock, sunghoon."
"But, what if your brother catch us? Don't you care about your brother anymore?"
"I don't care... I don't. The only thing I want is you, please" You whispered trying to keep your eyes open to look straight at sunghoon but the pleasure you're feeling is making it hard to do so.
You need him to swallow you. To possess you. To own you, you don't even care anymore.
"Hmm, let me think about that..." He replied looking down at your fucked up face like a predator having fun with his own prey.
He had you where he needs you. He successfully turn you into what he wants. It's not an accident when you saw him having sex with other girls. That's only one of the many traps sunghoon planted to make you come around. And, you did come around. Oh, you come around so good you didn't even have the idea. Besides, he's never been the good guy.
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© hrdenha | 2024
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museandwords · 2 months
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we don't gotta be in love (bucky barnes)
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Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, dubcon (reader is a bartering chip), arranged marriage, blood, implied age difference, virginity loss, wedding night, rough sex, Bucky is an animal, reader is Tony Stark’s daughter, alludes to Bucky beings powerful man of ambiguous design, alternate universe, breeding kink, big dick kink, Bucky is in love with her but she hates him, it’s not a fairy tale, it’s primal and it’s kind of messy.
Author’s note: this is just….pure filth, send me to jail, don’t tell my therapist.
continuation is right here
MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY
You, sweet, angelic, siren-like you. All wrapped up in a delicate lacy bra, a white ribbon in your hair, and your legs spread wide enough for Bucky to slot in between them.
Your glistening pussy was on full-display, tight and pink and soaked. Virginal and leaking slick as you lay there. You’re nervous, though you keep a brave face on as you present.
Your fiery eyes look up to meet his. You’re nervous and you’re scared. He's so big. His thick shaft dwarfs your folds as he rubs it along your seam.
You squirm, not sure what else to do. "Bucky…It's too big, it's not going to fit…" You whine at your new husband softly.
Bucky's gaze lingers on your delicate form, taking in the sight of his precious little Omega before him. He teases the tip of his thick member along your slick folds again and again, reveling in the way you quiver at the contact.
Your innocence and vulnerability only serve to stoke the primal desire within him. His intense blue eyes darken with hunger, your sweet scent of arousal enveloping him.
His large hand grips your chin firmly, tilting your head up to meet his gaze with eyes filled with determination.
"Shh, princess. Trust me," he growls softly, his voice a gravelly reassurance as his other hand snakes between your thighs, spreading your lips further to accommodate his size.
"You can take it, baby girl. You were made for me," he murmurs, the authoritative tone in his voice leaving no room for argument as he lines himself up with your entrance.
With a swift thrust, he enters you, the stretch causing you to gasp and tense against him. Bucky's restraint slips slightly at the sensation of your tight warmth surrounding him, but he reigns himself in, not wanting to overwhelm you. He holds still, allowing you to adjust to his size, his own need for you almost unbearable.
"See, you can take it," He reassures you, his hand moving up to cup your cheek tenderly as he begins to move, setting a steady pace that promises to fill you completely. He watches your reactions closely, his own control a thin veneer over his desire to claim you completely.
And just like that, Bucky made you his.
You should be afraid of this Alpha, this beast of a man who claims your virginity like he's entitled to it.
You want to hate him.
But how can you?
Your whole world is zoned in completely to where he's breaching you. He's so thick, his length seems to never end, and your back arches as you’re forced to take all of him.
It's like you can feel him in your stomach. You let out a high pitched whimper, and your thighs tighten around his waist.
As your eyes screw shut and you grip on his bicep for purchase.
Your virgin blood coats Bucky's cock, and it stains the white veil you still had on as he begins to fuck into you with a steady pace.
"I—…Bucky, I can't breathe…." You gasp, so genuine, soft and whimpery.
With your desperate plea for air, your voice tinged with a mix of fear and desire, Bucky's eyes bore into you, a glint of possessiveness shining through.
"You belong to me now, little wife," He growled, his voice husky and commanding, a mix of roughness and control.
Feeling your innocence and resistance only fueled Bucky's primal desires. He relished in the challenge, the conquest of your body like a prize waiting to be won.
As Bucky's relentless thrusting claimed you, your gasps, so pure and vulnerable, only served to fuel his aggression.
Bucky's grip tightened, his strength overpowering as he took what he wanted, his hips moving with a fierce determination. The room was consumed by the intoxicating scent of your arousal, mixing and mingling as your bodies became one.
Your eyes are screwed shut as you’re forced to take all of it again and again, the feeling of being so full is an adjustment, you hated how quickly you were coming to relish in it.
His arms come up to hook beneath the crease of your thighs and he begins to fold your body into a more submissive position. Your body curls and your eyes fly open, your glassy gaze meeting stormy blue as you can't help but let out a whiney moan from the sensation. The sight of you, vulnerable and yielding, stirs something within him, a hellish urge to devour, claim, push you to your limits as he delves deeper inside your velvety warmth.
You’re quick to realize whether you like it or not; you belong to him, for better or for worse. You go from a Stark girl to a Barnes wife. Tony Stark gave you to this beast of a man. And he takes it. Bucky takes all you have and consumes you.
Like an animal fucking for purpose rather than pleasure.
Your hand flies to the creaking mattress as you grip the sheets, your breasts bounce with each thrust and you begin to let out harsh pants that match each thrust in.
"Bucky…" You whine through gritted teeth as the pain begins to subside and the friction from the drag of his cock inside begins to feel good.
Bucky growls low in his throat as he moves within your eager, wet heat. The sound of your mingled pleasure filling the dimly lit room. His powerful thrusts are relentless. The scent of your arousal, sweet and heady, fills the space around you, driving Bucky wild with desire.
You want to hate this man. You want to hate him with all that you are because you were forced to marry him, to be his wife.
But the way he fucks into you has you confused, your brain more focused on how this Alpha takes your body so well, so dominantly and rough that it makes your pussy throb and your heart swell. It’s so ridiculous, so fucked up in your mind you can’t seem to bridge the gap.
With one particular thrust, Bucky's tip kisses your cervix, and you let out an involuntary scream from the sensation. Your manicured nails dig into the sheets, nearly shredding them as he picks up the intensity and drills harder into you.
You take it, you moan and you whine and you whimper and your tight warmth sucks his cock in, hungry for it now that you have it.
You’re overwhelmed from all the sensations, the way he's biting and sucking and licking your flesh, the way his pubic bone grinds against your clit and the way his cock stuffs you so perfectly that he rubs against your g-spot and cervix every time.
Tears begin to form in your eyes, a sign of your increased pleasure as your mouth falls open, Bucky forcing moans from your lips with each thrust in.
You know the purpose of this, you know what his instincts are telling him to do.
Reproduce. Claim. Mate.
"You're…trying….to get me pregnant…." You gasp out in realization as Bucky's hips slam into yours. You mewl, your body blossoming for him as he continues to drill into your tight wet heat.
Feeling you tighten around him, reacting to his every thrust, sent a dark thrill through him. It was as if something wild and feral prowled just beneath the surface of his skin, urging him to give in to his most basic alpha instincts.
He didn't speak, but his actions painted his intentions vividly.
You should fight, you should kick and punch and try to get this man off of you because you do not want his babies.
But your primal, baser brain won't allow you.
Because it's thriving off the Alpha presence, the possibility of pleasing your mate is more important.
The knot at the base of his cock began to swell, a signal of his impending release. As Bucky pushes his knot inside, your whole body tenses, and you begin to tremble as your pussy clenches impossibly tight around him. With a guttural growl, Bucky's body tensed, his hips stilling as he spilled his essence deep inside of you, each pulse of his release a sick twisted mark of ownership. You could feel the warmth spreading within you.
You let out a muted scream, and suddenly you’re shattering all over his cock.
Slick pools as you reach your climax, your walls constricting rhythmically around him as you grind your hips down — and involuntary action of pleasure as you ride it out. You can feel Bucky twitching inside of you, the swell of his knot keeping you locked together to ensure that they are in optimal condition to conceive, his need to give you a baby overriding any other thought in his mind.
You pant, your body is sweaty and weak as you finally begin to come down to earth.
You look at your Alpha, glowing eyes in the dark of night as you try to read him.
"Are you all calm now?" You ask, in a bratty tone.
Looking down at you, Bucky observed you with a mixture of possessiveness and satisfaction. He likes the challenge in your gaze.
Despite your bratty demeanor, Bucky found himself oddly pleased by your feistiness, a flicker of a smile playing on his lips.
"Yes, my little wife, all calm now," Bucky drawled, his gravelly voice tinged with satisfaction.
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baynetta · 11 months
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riding miguel would literally be a sport omg the way he’d have to lift you up off his lap because your body is too exhausted
riding miguel! (nsfw)
they should considere it to put it up to a olympic sport atp cause it’s something that just takes a lot of time and work. i definitely feel they’re some days that he would come home and he’ll be more than pleased to give you a hand. but not today. he’ll come so tired of all the late work that he had to indure. you didn’t know how much he crave for it, to have you all by himself. and why not to try something new, now that you had some practice before why not ride him all by yourself. this time, no guidance and definitely not help. at first you’ll be a little bit intimidate by it, having him staring at you, full in display, on your own bed, him observing every minute detail of your performance. it felt like your first time all over again (who btw was with miguel ofc🤭). he’ll grab you by the wrist to get close to his throbbing cock, he’s been painfully hard the whole day, thrilled just for this moment, so he’s now very impatient. “c’mon just sit on it baby” “don’t be acting like a prude right now”-. he muttered as you start to accommodate his tip already glassed in pre-cum on your entrance, you had it grabbed by his base giving it slow strokes, as your going in you feel how it slowly rasps making his way into your cavities, you yelp at the feeling, mostly bcs you didn’t had any prep. he usually will take his time before fucking you, he’ll eat you out and stick his fingers on your tight cunt till it’s fully mixed with both of y’all juices before he can burried his length into you. but not today. he wanted to feel how you strech yourself with his hardness, how good it i’ll start to dilatate and contract while his tip reach for the cervix.
as you were making it fit, you were whimper and sobbing mess and miguel could feel how tensed you were, how he was ripping his way up. “honey. escúpele” he demanded as you’re half way in. you spit on the palm of your hand and start glazing and rubbing his shaft with the mix of your sticky saliva and arousal. you watched miguel throw his head back off, shutting his eyes. fuck he’s been fantasizing about it for so long. and mind you, you haven’t reached to the base yet. abruptly you feel miguel’s hand groping your mushy hips and dragging you all the way down. it felt so violent the way you took him in one sitting, that you cry loudly at being now fulled by him. “fuck that’s it” he spit, you cry as you clench tightly on him, and fuck he’s having way too much fun, “ahora de nuevo”—he hissed while looking proudly at how well your taking him, such a good girl. you go all the way up again, with one hand on his base trying to keep the control of it, and drop slowly until your inner thighs are crashing with his pelvis, fuck it stings badly, you feel how hard his cock is stretching your walls as well your thighs are starting to cramp and burn as it’s holds your entire body weight. you tried to support your hands on miguels defined abs but he just slapped them away, “don’t fucking try it, put em behind”—you wanted to protest be he’s already giving you that “say it o you’ll regret it” look. you put them behind as you start going up again, and get down giving little semi circular movements, hissing as it starts to hit the right spot. “fuck.. que apretadita estás”- you cry as he’s hitting it, over and over again, your legs burning, the way your hips are loosing the tempo making all the movements messy and desperate for a guidence.
the room has been a mixing sounds of grunts, whimpers and sobbing messes, the filthy noises of the headboard slamming and the loud sounds of skin slapping as your crushing down hard and squirming all over him. miguel throwing his head back groaning and mutting the dirtiest praises “fuckk..such. a dirty. slut” “stop crying or i’ll be worse”. he’ll constantly switch his grip between your hips or your bouncing tits, he’ll twisted and squeez it. he fucking enjoying it watching your tired body starting to collapse. your pretty eyes closed, trying to endure all the pain and pleasure coming from all the parts that his hands and cock are abusing. the minutes you been on and on it’s almost miracle that you didn’t faint, as he sees you getting all flustered and sweaty he’ll grab you by the face, “don’t. fucking. stop”—.you can feel now his thumb digging dip in your jaw, making you gasp. you feel your full body start trembling, you try to inhale and exhale but your lower back and thighs went on shock. the exhaustion in your face as you implored and begged for miguel's help. until you just can't help it anymore and drop your weakened body on top of him. miguel inmidiatly will embrace you in warm and intimate hug, lift you up off his lap, stand up while he’s still inside you. he'll leave a trace of kisses from your collarbone up to your face whispering how good you were and now he's gonna take care of you.
pd: the stamina of this guy GOD he’s probably goes on an on all night 🤭
trad:
-spit on it
-now again
-you’re so tight
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sttoru · 5 months
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imagine older bf!gojo fucking us in doggy style in while we're wearing his hoodie😫😫
☀︎|tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. smut. age gap (reader early 20’s, gojo early 30’s), size difference / size kink, doggy style, spanking, implied creampies, reader gets called ‘baby, sweetheart’.
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satoru’s attempts to hide his obvious desire for you were rendered unsuccessful; no matter how much he tries to keep his hands to himself — it never works. this time was no different.
you were simply sitting on the couch with his hoodie on and the older man couldn’t stop the blood from rushing to his crotch. you looked extremely adorable in satoru’s hoodie, as it was oversized on your much shorter and smaller body.
“fuck— ‘m sorry, baby,” your boyfriend apologises between shallow breaths. he’s got you face down with your ass up on the bed; his hands using your hips as leverage for his intense thrusts. there was no mercy in the pace he set—he was too far gone, “you just. . look so fuckin’ good in my hoodie - couldn’t resist.”
the inability to resist going any harder on you also shows in his constant, harsh movements. the sticky sounds your cunt made due to your own wetness - and the few loads that satoru had dumped into you in the span of half an hour - echo throughout your shared space.
satoru’s fingers slither up your back, diving under the material of your (his) hoodie before moving up your front to fondle your breasts. all while his throbbing cock molds your insides to accommodate its hefty size.
“you should try on my clothes more often,” your boyfriend suggests whilst he leans his upper body down, his chest flush against your back as his hot breath tickles your ear, “i wanna try fucking you in all of ‘em.”
you moan and shiver at the thought which forms a sly grin on satoru’s face. he sighs before leaning back again, putting his hips in a better angle so he could hit all of your sweet spots—trying desperately to hear all the moans you could produce. of course, he can’t help but add a couple spanks to your ass.
the sight of the fat jiggling which each slam of his hips and slap of his hand nearly drives him to the edge again. satoru slips his wet dick out of your pussy for a second, pumping the length and using the tip to scoop up the droplets of his cum that escaped back inside you. he resumes his harsh thrusts, his ocean blue eyes taking in every jolt your body makes.
“mm shit, you’d look so good in that black shirt of mine,” satoru groans. he could already imagine how the compression shirt would define your tits and waist—how your nipples would poke through the thin material.
you tremble and babble incomprehensible words after lifting your head from the pillow. your lungs long for air and your hands claw at the bedsheets. your lover could easily decipher your actions: you’re about to reach another orgasm.
“aht aht, sweetheart. jus’ a little more, ‘kay?” satoru pouts, kissing the back of your head in a gesture of comfort. he pats your ass with a smile after you agree to hold back for a bit longer, “good girl.”
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scientia-rex · 5 months
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Hey. HEY. We aren’t good at understanding how bodies work. I spent five years in undergrad (I was indecisive; graduated with six years’ worth of credits), two in my terminal master’s program, four in med school, and three more in residency. I know a whole lot about how bodies work. I am qualified to tell you that we don’t know a lot more than we do know.
This means that, when you encounter a claim, you need to weigh it against what you have experienced.
I have met doctors who were sure fibromyalgia, or “muscle hurty disease,” from the roots of the word, was just women being crazy. Turns out it’s probably at least partly due to autoimmune dysfunction. Or maybe not! Sure would be nice if we knew! But I sure as shit know it’s real, because I have it and so do the women in my family. Our bodies don’t work right, somehow. They don’t work like other people’s bodies work. I experience more pain than I “should” based on what stimuli other people find painful. I have less ability to build and maintain muscle strength. This has not kept me from doing what I love most in the world, which is have opinions, to the point where I went through the horrifically awful process that is medical training in the US just so I could have opinions all day long and get paid for it. I gain nothing from saying I have it, and in fact risk the opinions of my professional peers if I do admit to it, since it is still seen as a disease of mental or moral weakness. I’m perfectly qualified to self-diagnose, as a board-certified family physician.
And yet I believed people in positions of authority for a long, long time who said it was a mental illness and not a bodily one. As if those even can be distinct, when our brains are part of our bodies and our experience of reality is filtered through their circuitry. But I believed that I was somehow to blame for being in pain.
Life has been better since I accepted that I just need to do some things differently. If I lift weights, I need to use machines, I need to start on the lowest possible setting, and I need to increase very gradually. If I do cardio, I need a low-impact model like an elliptical trainer; running outside, every time I have tried it in my life, results in incapacitating shin splints, even if I try to work up slowly. I no longer buy laundry bins that don’t roll. My home is all on one level. I go to physical therapy. I stash freezer dinners that contain (shudder) vegetables, my least favorite thing, so that when I do feel like shit, I have an alternative to starving (or eating a block of cheese that upsets my stomach).
Accommodate yourself. This society isn’t going to help much, if at all. In your good times and days, be the person whose help you’ll need in your worst days.
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thebibliosphere · 1 year
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Yesterday was my first time in the ER since my hEDS diagnosis was officially added to my file (instead of me having to tell them and hoping they’d believe me), and everyone in my emergency care team was on top of it. Like on the ball, fully engaged and interested in keeping the zebra in the hospital comfortable.
They also all knew what MCAS and POTS were and deferred to me when it came to medication and pain management. Which was also wild, because they were not shy at all about offering pain relief. They straight up offered me narcotics, when usually the most I get offered is Tylenol.
Even the CT tech knew what MCAS was and asked if we should pre-treat with Benadryl because he knew some patients could experience mast cell destabilization from the radiation even without the contrast dye.
He and the nurse even helped brace my neck when I was going into the CT machine because I mentioned having cranial instability, and the position I was in was making my neck click, so they stopped everything to find multiple pillows to brace my neck and shoulders while I was on the table.
Afterward, while being bussed through the corridors in my bed (because they had to dehydrate me to take the CT scan and my POTS was going haywire, and they made sure I had to be upright as little as possible), I commented to my nurse that I was startled that everyone I’d spoken to that day knew about EDS/MCAS/POTS and were so accommodating.
He paused before answering, then told me, “We probably don’t know as much about EDS as we should, but we’ve seen a lot of the other two over the last few years. Covid really messed people up. Did yours start with covid?” No, I told him. We think I was probably born with it and a dental infection turned it lethal. He expressed his sympathy and again reminded me I didn’t need to be a hero and I could press the pain med button whenever I needed to.
Back in my room, they started me on IV fluids to combat the dehydration from the POTS. And I was laying there, I became aware of the nurse bracing my elbow so it wouldn’t hyperextend while he futzed around with the IV and I remember thinking, “this is how it always should have been.”
The kindness and care shown to me were in such stark contrast to past experiences it made me quite tearful. There were no accusations of anxiety, no referrals to psyche, and no implications that I was over-exaggerating my pain. No denying of my experiences.
Just a quiet, vocal acceptance that I “knew my body best” and that they’d do whatever they could to help.
It was nice.
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