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#done all the dishes so I would HAVE DISHES TO MAKE FOOD WITH
jujusjunk · 2 days
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Do Palestinians like raw kibbeh as well, or is it mainly a Lebanese thing?
While Levantine cuisine tends to be under a big umbrella, what are some quintessential dishes that are specifically Palestinian (other than musakhan) and which are specifically Lebanese? What would you say are the key distinctions?
Andwhichsidemakesthebestbabaganushfalafelandhummus? *runs*
Lmao for hummus I have to say Jordan 100%. Babaganoush 100% Lebanon and falafel 100% palestine. I will throw fists for this.
Raw kibbeh isn’t a huge part of the Palestinian cousin it is mostly Lebanese but it’s not unheard of in Palestinian food. We eat lots of raw food (raw liver, raw kibbeh, raw eggs (for babies actually)) so raw anything is actually a pretty big part of all levant cultures but I think raw kibbeh is specifically Lebanese.
I think for Lebanese manousheh and tabbouleh and like in general salads and kibbeh and all that is a good Lebanese meal.
Jordan tends to be on the heavier side when it comes to food (as in you have to not eat the whole day to be able to stomach a Jordanian meal) we have Zarb which is meat that’s cooked for like 13 hours under ground and OMG it’s so good. We have mansaf(which the history behind it is crazy interesting). Of course we have alayet bandora which is just cooked tomatoes sometimes with eggs but mostly without.
For Palestinian dishes of course as you said musakhan. We also have maqlubeh which is rice with eggplants and tomatoes that’s like flipped after it’s finished and honestly that’s the first thing I ever became good at with cooking because it’s an easy yet filling meal. You can make it with chicken or meat (I like meat more). Then we have of course mahashi which is done literally in every Arab country but I firmly believe it is Palestinian (with literally no proof I just know it in my heart). Which is stuffed zucchini, eggplants, grape leaves, bell peppers, tomatoes and pumpkins (small ones). It’s stuffed with rice and minced meat and ITS SOO GOOOODDD.
Now the food I think is under an umbrella in all of the levant and sometimes even the whole of the Middle East is hummus, falafel (Jordanian is the best), knafeh, Zeit w zaatar. Those I think are just an Arab thing.
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lastoneout · 2 years
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I love when the city is doing work on the water pipes in my neighborhood and they decide to give us Absolutely No Warning Whatsoever before just turning the water off so I didn't have time to do anything that I need water for like I can't even fucking make myself breakfast it's great I love this
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It always seems a bit unbalanced on The Great Food Truck Race when there will be multiple teams who are cooking a wide variety of complex dishes with 10 different components and a bunch of prep work, and then there's that one team who like... exclusively serves plain crepes with some premade nutella on them, or plain waffles with just some whipped cream and cut up strawberries lol...
#AND then they'll be the winning team or whatever and its like... wow... imagine that... I wonder how its possible that they can get#more dishes out faster than the other teams... hrrmm.... lol#Not that they aren't still doing work like. obviously it's still hard and there's still a sales component and other stuff to be done#but It's just kind of unbalanced seeming when one group is serving like grilled shrimp sandwich with 3 homemade sauces and a#slaw and two sides and the other people are like... slicing fruit and drizzling a bottle of hersheys chocolate syrup on top of some thing#they just threw in a waffle maker for a few minutes#You see the footage of the teams cooking and everyone is like prepping a ton of different things and meat and vegetables and they have#boiling pots and pans and fryers going and tossing stuff in bowls and compiling these multi component dishes#and then That One Team is always just casually slicing bananas or doing some whipped cream in a bowl gbjhbhj#They usually dont even make their own caramel or chocolate sauces or anything. Nutella out of a jar babey!#So all you're really Making is like... whipped cream. and some sort of batter (waffle. crepe. etc)#If I got placed in a competition like that and I found out one of my opponents just sold waffles or pancake sticks or etc#like that I would just be like... okay.. I'm out then. bye. OR I would pivot and be like.. right I shall remove all complexity from my menu#whatsoever and just start selling plain balls of fried dough with powdered sugar or plain fries with nothing on them or something lol#update: OH my god.. one of these teams on a newer season is selling a 'bonus add on' where you can add#cinnamon sugar and caramel syrup (possibly not even home made by them???? just from a bottle) for $5 extra on your order#If I bought a $12 waffle from a food truck and they were like 'hey do you want to upgrade? for only $5 we'll drizzle a teaspoon#of caramel and sprinkle a little sugar and cinnamon on there!' I feel like I would cancel my order and walk away.#that is a $1 add on at MOST.. for a freaking DRIZZLE of caramel sauce LOL#and of course this team is in the top 3... squirrel.... come ON...#Which I know all these shows are fake and bad and whatever. I dont watch them seriously. I think I liked the first few seasons#but then anything past like season 4 (or whenever they started having established people who already ran food trucks on there#instead of taking a bunch of peope who had never run a food truck before and giving them one - which is a much more equal footing#premise to me) I have just been increasingly annoyed at and I really just have the show on for background noise#whilst doing chores or something and am not genuinely paying that much attention but... my god.. At least try to pretend its fair lol#WHICH I KNOWW... you can say 'well the other teams could do similar if they wanted.' or blah blah. tehcnically it's THEIR choice to#make stuff from scratch and not sell a bunch of packaged frozen chicken wings dropped into a fryer over a shitty 6min waffle or etc.#but... I will never respect a $5 for 1tbsp of caramel sauce type of situation.. even if they win.. you will always be losers in my heart#So many teams with real cooking skill & good concepts go home to the 'slap nutella on fried dough' people... how...
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skunkg1rll · 6 months
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👛🩹🥛🐈
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makkie-is-screaming · 7 months
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I fucking can’t today
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flippedorbit · 10 months
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do you want me to fucking go off on you? do you truly fucking want that mother?
#“oh you and your sister never listen to me and blah blah blah” we fucking do (or at the very least i do)#“you guys never help out” does me doing the litter and taking out the trash and on occasion hand washing the dishes mean#fucking nothing to you? does me sweeping the floor every once in a while because you chose to keep us in an area that is ALL SAND/DIRT ROAD#for whatever stupid ass reason also meaningless? does me doing my damn best to help out mean fucking nothing?#do you want me to kill my self. do you want to lose your eldest child to something YOU could have fucking prevented all because you can’t#stop being a bitch to him all the time? do you really fucking want that mom? because at this rate i am once again on the road to fucking#attempting it. i’m so god damn sick of how you treat me. the only time i can do anything i want is at night. i stay up super late playing#games with my friends because its the only time in the day when you aren’t bitching and whining for me to do something you don’t want to do#for the past several days i’ve been up until five in the damn morning just to do something that makes me happy.#you misgender me. you deadname me. you refuse to accept any aspect of my identity. you don’t treat me like a god damn person.#i have so many different ways i can consider attempting if i truly wanted to. the only thing keeping me alive is my friends. because they a#least show that they fucking care and actively want to do things with me. like group drawing or playing video games.#YOU on the other hand; mother; yell and get mad at me over the stupidest shit and never fucking apologize.#i cannot recall a singular time you’ve apologized for being a complete bitch to me over something so fucking unimportant.#and yet i’m expected to be completely fucking fine and happy all because you provide me with the bare fucking minimum.#”i clothe and feed and provide a place for you to live” THAT IS THE BARE FUCKING MINIMUM. sure you could argue over the fact i’m 18 and#should be out working somewhere. but you give me so few opportunities for going places and even considering getting a job or finally gettin#my driver’s license. plus i would rather fucking die than work any food service or customer service job. because i’d be going somewhere#where i’d mostly get talked down to or yelled and then come home and have the same shit done after working for hours and getting minimal#pay. i’d rather work on my own fucking terms with commissions than go into any job where i have to interact with others in public for any#reason. where i’d be treated just the same as at home. like someone who isn’t a person and doesn’t deserve anyone to be nice to them.#i constantly so desperately wish that maybe one day soon i’d find someone to be with romantically and that i could maybe live with them and#get out of this hell hole that i’m supposed to call home. to go somewhere and have my efforts appreciated. to go somewhere where i’d#actually fucking be loved. i shouldn’t have to wish so god damn hard for a better life all because my mother can’t fucking treat me like a#person with hopes and dreams and thoughts and feelings.#i’m ending this rant here before i get too angry and upset. see you all in maybe an hour.#suicide mention#ask to tag
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writersdrug · 2 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of man who:
In your shared home, always sits with his legs spread. Manspreading king. Adores it when you cross your arms and give him a disapproving look, saying there's no room for you. "Course there is, luv. Jus' sit between my thighs."
Refuses to let you do simple tasks around the house, like making tea, folding his underwear, or putting away the dishes. One might think it's a sweet, husbandly gesture - but he's just super picky. You made tea in the microwave once, and now you're banned from ever touching his tea stash. Likes his underwear folded in a specific way, and you don't understand the importance of it. He got tired of you stuffing his underwear in his drawer, so now he folds it himself. And the dishes? Couldn't stand how you put them away. "There's no rhyme or reason to 'em." "I didn't think there had to be, Si-" "Just gimme the damn bowl." Fewer chores? You aren't complaining.
Looks like he's always on edge - and he is, kinda. When he's out with you, he can't help but be alert and watchful, and extremely protective of you. You've tried to get him to loosen up - it's the supermarket, what could happen? - but have just come to accept it as his nature. Plus, you get that giddy feeling when you see other men look straight down at the floor, avoiding Simon's stare as the two of you pass.
Is the grumpiest, poutiest, and most indignant man ever when he gets sick. Doesn't want you doting on him in case you catch whatever he has. But, wait - where are you going? "Get your ass back in this bed - 'm cold." Grumbles like a child when you force him to let you get up to grab him soup, tea, or medicine. And no, he doesn't care how sick he is, he's not wearing that stupid, floppy ice pack hat.
Brings Johnny over unannounced, and you've grown used to it. The moment you hear that Scottish yapping out the front door as the key unlocks, you grab a third plate for dinner - he insists you don't need to feed him, but you always make extra for Simon's lunch the next day regardless, and the last time he'd said that, he ended up grabbing an extra fork and picking from Simon's plate. Which, of course, had Simon up at 1 am making instant ramen because he was still hungry, but didn't have the heart to ask you to make him a decent meal. So, yes, Johnny would be fed.
Loves spoiling you on your birthday. What is a man if not someone who spoils his partner rotten? Orders in food from your favorite bakery, sets all your presents neat and nice on the table (the excellent wrapping job done by yours truly, Gaz), flower petals sprinkled on the ground and the table top (also Gaz's idea), and a seat on his lap so for you while you open your presents. Loves watching your face light up, and each little "you remembered?!" fall from your lips as you open each gift. Scoffs and shifts in his seat. "I's not that much of a fuss, luv..." as you squeal excitedly, but you know he's biting back a proud smile. The blush, he can't even attempt to hide.
Is somehow a magnet for your young nephews. Every time he comes along to your sister's place, he's either making conversation with her husband in the living room, or he's interrogated and cornered by her two sons. And, lord help him, he doesn't understand it either. He'd always expected kids to look at him like a monster, but, especially with these two, that was never the case. They'd ask him for stories about "being in war" - half of the time, he'd make up some not-too-gory adventure, sparing them the details of real war. The rest of the time, he'd talk about "Soap, my mate who blows everything up." And they'd listen with wide eyes and jaws on the floor.
Has scared you unintentionally, more than too many times. He'd come home at three in the morning from a mission, and all he wanted was to quietly peel his dirty uniform off and slip into bed with you. His main intention was to avoid waking you up, because you'd force him to shower before joining you in bed - and he was too tired for that. However, you'd been rounding the corner, up for your 3 am glass of water - you screamed as you saw the hulking, dark figure by the front door, launching your phone at him. He'd caught it effortlessly and shoved it into his back pocket. "What've I told ya 'bout using the bat?" "I was just getting water!" "I coulda been anyone." "Well you're not." "Missed ya, luvie." "Missed you too- but you're grimy. Go take a-" "No." He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your protests as he hauled you back to bed.
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kbwrites · 2 months
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Husband! Nanami
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synopsis: your husband comes home for another long and arduous day. He only wishes to stay with you forever.
⚝tags: husband!nanami, reader is a housewife, nsfw, nanami loves eating his wife out
⚝wc: 1.6k
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Husband Nanami! Drags his feet, trudging wearily to the entrance of his shared home. Each step heavier than the last. Work has been increasingly stressful, each day more demanding than the last. Today was no different. He brings a tired hand up to the doorknob, turning it slowly. The soft yellow light of the foyer illuminates his face, the scent of his safe space hitting his nostrils.
“Kento?” There it was, the most melodious symphony he’d ever heard. Rounding the corner it was you, his loving wife. In that moment it seems as though all the stress from the day melts away, a small smile graces his lips and his tired eyes close briefly.
“Hello dear.”
Kento wasn’t exactly sure when he fell in love with you, just that at some point he stopped being able to imagine what life would be like without your presence. You became his peace, a ray of sunshine that cut through the darkness in his life. He never believed in karma or fate, but sometimes he’d wonder what he had done in his life to be deserving of your love.
He slips out of his shoes, heavy footsteps and drooping shoulders trudge toward you. He wrapped his strong arms around you, enveloping you in a warm embrace. Kento bends down slightly, burying his head into your hair allowing your scent to permeate his senses. You always smelled so good… A low hum of content emanates from his throat, almost like a cat purring. His arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly close.
“How was your day?” He mumbles into your skin.
“My day was good.” You reply quietly. “What about you?”
“Long. Tiring..” He says with a sigh, pulling away slightly so he can have a better look at his sunshine. His hand reaches to cup your face, thumb making small circles on your cheek. You look at your husband, honey-colored eyes half-lidded, dark circles occupying his face. It was taking everything in him to stand right now.
“Are you hungry?” You muse, nuzzling your face into his hand. He only nods, still looking at you with tired eyes. Taking the hand that held your face you lead him to the dining room. The smell of food wafts through the room, a plate of steak and mashed potatoes, still hot. He takes a seat at the table, eyes lighting up at the dish.
“Thank you, my love.” He says before taking a bite, his eyes closing in satisfaction as the savory taste hits his tongue. He loved your cooking, it was like a balm to his weary soul. He continues eating in silence, looking up at you. You rest your chin in your hands, smiling at your husband.
“You’re not eating?” He says after swallowing.
“I ate before you came home.” A pang of guilt washes over him, Kento knows you probably waited as long as you could hoping you could hold out and wait to eat with him. With all the long hours he’s been putting in, he's barely had time for the one thing that made his life worth living
“I’m sorry…” He reaches for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. You just smile, how did he end up with an angel?
He finishes eating his food, you get up grabbing the empty plate. Kento gently grabs hold of your wrist.
“Please, you cooked let me-”
“You can barely stand Ken.” You’re right, he’s come to find out that you usually are. He sinks back in the chair, too exhausted to protest. After loading the dishwasher you come back into the dining room, your husband exactly where you left him. Fighting off sleep in the chair.
You take his large hand in your smaller one, leading him to the bathroom. Although, Nanami is a serious man, one who was insistent on retiring you when you got married. He secretly loved when you took care of him, your gentle hands working his sore muscles combined with the hot water cascading down his body; he thinks in this moment he could fall asleep standing up.
He looks down at his wife fussing over him, your naked form, suds of soap covering your glistening skin. Even running on 3 hours of sleep the desire in him for his lover burns. His hands roam over your curves, gripping your hips. You pause your movements looking up at him as he pulls you closer, pads of his fingers digging lightly into the fat of your hips. How long had it been since he touched his wife? Made her writhe under him? Far too long in his opinion.
You finish the shower, leading his towel-clad body to your bedroom, drying him off you grab his night clothes from the top drawer. Suddenly bashful at all the attention you’ve been giving him Kento grabs your arm as you try to slip on his pajama pants. You look up at him inquisitively.
“Kento?” He doesn’t answer, just pulls you onto his lap. His large hands holding you in place.
“Darling..” His voice hoarse. Your body shivers in response, even after a year of marriage the sight before you— his chiseled abs, damp blond hair framing his sharp features, his lips parted and pupils blown… It was still too much. You feel the arousal pool between your legs.
“K-kento, you’re tired...” You try to be the voice of reason, but the love of your life looks so damn good right now. He places soft kisses on your chest, setting fire to your skin.
“You’ve been so good to me, allow me this.” He says before trailing kisses up and down your neck. His hands leave your waist, his touch slow and deliberate. His lips ghost over you, landing next to your ear.
“It’s been terrible my love… working all day when I’d rather be here… having you.” His breath against your ear.
“Ken!” You say embarrassed, he was always so blunt when you were having sex. “Just don’t go overboard…” You chide in between moans, your hands find his damp hair, raking through it gently. 
He uses the bit of strength he has left to lay you down on the bed, your back hitting the plush comforter. His hand trailing between your legs, he groans as he feels the wetness between your folds. Your back arches as he brings his digits up to your clit, making slow deliberate circles.
He looks up at you, eyes clouded with lust.
“Honey, I need you.” Is all he says before he buries his face into your cunt.
His tongue darting out to lap up all of your slick. Your darling husband sucking gently on your clit as his fingers tease your entrance. Your moans and whimpers only serve to encourage him. His long finger slides in, curling it upwards to your sweet spot.
“Kento~ s’good” You breathe, one hand snakes up to your stomach, giving the soft flesh a squeeze. His way of saying he heard you. His eyes flutter shut, completely enraptured in pleasing his precious wife. All the paperwork, unnecessarily long meeting with his boss, the entire shit storm of the day all seems to float away as he rests between your thighs.
“So good f’me my love.” He mumbles against your skin. The hand he had on your stomach reaches below to his growing erection. He wraps his hand around his thick length, rutting into his tight fist. He moans against your cunt, imagining his fist were your heavenly walls.
He knows you so well, just by the slight change in your voice he can tell he’s bringing you closer to the edge. His pace quickens, inserting another thick finger into your cunt, your walls flutter around him. Hot squelching noises emanate from your core. He released your clit with a ‘pop’ using the wet muscle to circle around the bundle of nerves. He wants so badly for you to cum, his own pleasure completely reliant on it. Your breath hitches, body spasms as you finally release. Your arousal coating his fingers, he removes them from you replacing them with his mouth. 
He greedily slurps up all the slick from your entrance, humming as your sweet essence coats his taste buds. 
“Kentooo” You whine, slightly overstimulated. You squirm trying to push your lover's head away from your throbbing cunt, he only grunts, strong arms holding your legs in place. Only after he’s had his fill he crawls up to you, resting your head on his broad chest. 
Your husband places kisses on your forehead, stroking your slightly damp hair. He takes deep breaths, helping to pace your own breathing. He looks down at his world, even your blissed out state was irresistible to him. 
“Was that too much for you my love?” He questions softly. You shake your head, a tired smile graces his lips.
“I’ve been neglecting you honey… I’m sorry.” He says apologetically, tracing patterns on your skin. You look up at him, the guilt evident on his face. 
He worked so hard so that you wouldn’t have to, his darling wife shouldn’t have to lift a finger. However he couldn’t bear the thought of you waiting up for him, missing him. The light of his life, so lonely in the big house he bought for her.
“It’s alright Ken.” You offer a gentle smile, of course, you missed your husband, but you didn’t want to stress him out any more than he already was. 
“No. It isn’t.” He said firmly. “I’ll request more days off, I need rest. And I need you.” He holds you tight as if you’d disappear at any moment. His mind was set, you swoon at your husbands' words.
“Good.” You say smiling, he leans down to place a gentle kiss to your lips. He rolls over to his back, the exhaustion hitting him again. You throw the cover onto both of your bodies. Sleeping taking over him quickly. You place a kiss to your husband's cheek before closing your eyes.
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foldingfittedsheets · 11 days
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I am a little creature largely made up of anxieties. There have been times in my life when it was worse. It’s currently significantly better. This story takes place at a time when it was pretty bad.
Food was a prison for me. I moved out early with very little idea of how to feed or care for myself. Every meal was a question mark. For three years I had Brendan doing most of the cooking but when things ended between us I moved in with some other friends. I suddenly had no way to feed myself again.
I was working at the sex shop and living with all my coworkers; a premise that would make sitcom writers weep. In that house, at the age of 24, I learned how to fry an egg. It was the only thing I knew how to do but by god, I mastered egg frying. I was so proud. I could now have one stress free meal a day of an egg on toast.
The problem was my roommates. Living with three other people is already tough but messes pile up alarmingly fast, especially in the kitchen. No one sees the whole mess as their responsibility but the one person who’s responsibility it absolutely wasn’t was mine, as I only ever cooked eggs. Glaciers moved quicker than the dishes got done, mountains of greasy unwashed dish ware were fixtures across the counters.
My friends occasionally cooked for me and each time I happily cleaned all the resulting dishes. This seemed fair.
But on my own I only used three implements for my egg. When I finished with my spatula, pan, and plate, I carefully washed them and set them to dry. Every time I came back to the kitchen there was nothing clean.
Crusted on ketchup, dried food, and unsavory residues plagued everything I needed to touch. So I ended up doing all the dishes twice, once to use my three implements and again once I was done.
I started to realize I’d come home, see the filthy pile of dishes, then go to bed without eating because I didn’t have the energy to wash it all. So I finally addressed my roommates about it. Please, I beseeched them, can these three things always be clean. I cannot function like this, and eating is already hard for me.
The answer returned: no. My request was deemed unreasonable and a counteroffer was made to turn off the small space heater I ran in my room in exchange for them magnanimously cleaning up after themselves. I declined, as my bones ached with cold everywhere except my room since no one else wanted the heat on. The impasse continued. I went to be hungry.
I noodled on it. I schemed. I plotted. And on my day off I went to a thrift shop and acquired a nice little pan and spatula. I squirreled them away into my closet. The plan was just to wash and dry it after meals and keep it in my room.
This is not how it went down. On day one of my pan coming home one of my roommates popped into my room to chat, glanced into my three quarters shut closet and immediately said, “What is that?”
I sighed and admitted my plan. All three roommates roundly condemned my plan as extremely passive aggressive. I tried once again to explain that I wasn’t eating, but my secret pan was now a source of contention, a precious resource held back from the collective.
Their discontent reached a fever pitch and I finally declared, “Fine! I will put my pan in the kitchen. On one condition. If I ever find this pan dirty, ever, I will scrape whatever is left on it into your bedding. I swear to god, if I ever come home to it being dirty there will be a reckoning.”
Terms were agreed.
The first month or two went okay. On the third month I awoke to eat breakfast and found my precious pan sullied. I grabbed it and marched upstairs. Betty was named as the culprit. I strode into Betty’s room and stood over her sleeping form like the vengeful ghost of dishes past.
“If you don’t get up and clean this right now I’m going to dump it on your bed.”
Betty groggily regarded me. “Seriously?”
“I have never been more serious.”
“It’s one time, can’t you just clean it yourself?”
“No. You promised.”
With much huffing and grousing Betty arose from bed and tromped downstairs, hastily cleaning my pan while I watched. “Happy?” She demanded.
I was. I made my egg, cheerfully cleaning the pan afterward, leaving it to dry.
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rileyslibrary · 1 year
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You’ve just moved in with Simon. Great.
There’s one slight problem, though: Due to the nature of his work, the guy interprets everything as an order. And executes accordingly.
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You sit on the kitchen’s table, enjoying breakfast together, when you notice the full trash bin.
“The trash needs to be taken out,” you casually mention, not giving it too much thought.
But, to your surprise, Simon shoots up from his chair like a coiled spring, leaving his half-eaten food behind. “Roger that,” he responds and jogs towards the trash bin, leaving you baffled.
“Simon?”
He stops and turns to look at you.
“Hm?”
“You don’t have to do it right now.”
“When do you want it done?” he asks, waiting for your next command.
“Wh-whenever you can,” you reply, uncertain how else to phrase it.
“I can do it now,” Simon declares and proceeds to the trash bin.
“Babe, we’re eating.” You say and point at the semi-eaten food on the kitchen table.
He looks at the food, then back at you. He shrugs.
“No,” you state, “Come sit down and finish your breakfast first.”
He nods as if Price just gave him the objectives for his next mission and jogs to the table to resume his breakfast.
He’s always like this. Last week, you found a cockroach running in the bathroom, and you screamed so loud that he almost kicked the door. When he asked you what you wanted him to do, your first instinct was a very loud and clear “KILL IT!” without thinking about your statement’s repercussions. He chased it around, murmuring stuff like “Target’s on the move” and other nonsense until he trapped the cockroach in a corner. He stepped on it once and twisted his foot. The cockroach was dead. Gone. Kaput. But he wanted to do it again, to “confirm the kill.” When you told him there was no need since the cockroach was already a pulp and left you all to a better place, he refused and ordered an “evac” of the bathroom to “do it properly.” And when you asked if “properly” meant an AK-47 and camo apparel, he thought about it long and hard before agreeing that further escalation would be unnecessary.
Be it his ingrained behaviour as a soldier to execute orders, deeply rooted within his system, or his fear not to let you down, he was finding it difficult to leave his work duties at the door. He always carried them inside—in the living room, the kitchen, and the bathroom. He acted like Ghost, not Simon. Everything was a matter of order to him, and there was no time for relaxation.
But it doesn’t have to be like this; you want him to know that. He doesn’t have to be so rigid at home. He can relax and take a step back from his institutionalised habits.
To prove your point, you decide to give him another instruction, this time more indirectly.
You glance at the sink; some pans are picking out from making breakfast this morning.
“Oh boy,” you moan, trying to pull off an act, “we have to clean the dishes at some point.”
He raises his head to look at the kitchen sink, then sides-eyes you.
“Any particular time you want that done?” He asks, ironically.
“I said ‘at some point’, Simon,” you snap, “there’s no urgency.”
“You also said we ‘have’ to do it,” he snaps back. “‘Have to’ has some sort of urgency in it, doesn’t it?”
You chuckle, impressed by his attention to detail. “You’re right, but it’s more of a general statement,” you reply. “We can do it whenever it’s convenient.”
Simon processes your words and nods.
You stare at him while he eats, and you feel a tug at your heart, urging you to address the underlying issue on your mind. You take a deep breath, searching for the right words to express your feelings without offending him. You reach out and touch his arm to grab his attention. He turns to face you.
“You’re so dedicated to what you do; it’s one of the things I love about you,” you begin, “but our home should be a place where we can both unwind and be ourselves without feeling like we’re constantly on a mission.”
He furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?” he asks.
You take a moment to collect your thoughts, wanting to explain them in a way that resonates with him.
“Well, when you jump to fulfil every request or task like it’s an order, it sometimes feels like we’re always on duty,” you explain gently. “I want us to create a more relaxed atmosphere here, where we can enjoy each other’s company and take things at a slower pace.”
He thinks about it for a while.
“Am I doing that?” He asks.
You slowly nod with a gentle smile.
“Affirmative,” he replies, “I’ll try to take it down a notch.”
“No ‘roger’, no ‘affirmative’, nothing like that is needed here,” you explain.
“Is ‘alright’ alright?” He asks.
“Yes,” you smile, “alright is alright.”
He finishes his breakfast and puts his dish in the sink.
“So,” he says, pointing one hand at the dirty dishes and the other at the bin. “Is there any particular order in which you want these two to be done?”
You smile. “No, babe; you take out the trash, and I’ll do the dishes.”
“Underst-alright, alright.” He corrects himself and walks to the garbage. He ties up the bag’s strings and picks up the bin. He spots you looking at him.
“Am I doing something wrong?” He hesitates.
“Why are you taking the entire bin with you?”
He keeps looking at you and places the bin on the floor.
“Just in case the bag’s ripped,” he explains, “I don’t want to spill garbage juice on the floor.”
“Oh.”
“Should I take the bag only?” He asks and begins to remove it from the bin.
“No… that’s pretty smart, actually.”
He raises his eyebrows and points a thumb at himself.
“Yes, Simon,” you nod and smile, “you’re pretty smart and considerate. I’ll carry out the same procedure while on trash bin duty.”
He puffs up his chest and picks up the bin with the bag in it.
“I’m dedicated, smart and considerate.” You hear him boast to himself as he walks towards the exit, ready to execute his mission.
———————————————————————
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obsesssedblerd · 2 months
Text
“Megumi!” You call your son in the living room, who’s sitting next to his father, Toji, on the couch watching the news. “Could you go grab your sister and tell her to put her studying on hold? Dinner’s almost done.” 
“Yeah, no problem,” Megumi says as he rises to his feet, putting his headphones around his neck and pulling his phone out of his hoodie pocket. “Oh, uh, Mom?” 
“Hm?” 
“Can Itadori spend the night after dinner?” He then looks over at Toji with a small scowl. “After Dad hides all of his assassin stuff?” 
“Hey, watch it,” Toji says.
You nod with a light smile. You loved having Yuuji Itadori over. He was a bright kid, and besides, he made Megumi relaxed and happy. “Of course. Go prepare the guest bed, yeah?” 
Megumi departs with a nod, then heads upstairs. From the living room, you hear Toji whistle. “Wow. Baby, looks like Spider-Man stopped that bank robbery.”
You look up from the dishes in the kitchen, then hum in delight when you catch what’s on the screen. It looked like small clips from the internet as the reporter gave details. The masked hero, wearing blue and red, swings, fights, and rescues hostages swiftly. “Incredible,” you say, then walk over to hand your husband a list of groceries. “Could you head to the store and grab these? I want to make sure that we have enough food for breakfast in the morning now that Yuuji will be staying the night.” 
Toji looks around to make sure that Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t present, then lowers his voice to a whisper. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about Yuuji.” 
“Megumi has feelings for him. Yeah, I know.” 
“No- Not that. Amazing for them, and I think they’re adorable together, but,” Toji points over at the TV. “I think he’s Spider-Man.”
You blink, then burst into laughter as you head back into the kitchen. “Toji, what? Don’t be ridiculous. He’s only fifteen and very busy. You know how often he studies with Megumi.” 
“I’m serious,” he says as he follows you. “Think about it. Do you know how often Yuuji shows up with bruises or scratches?” 
You begin arranging plates on the dining room table. “Just like our son, the kid’s a fighter. I mean, his uncle Sukuna was a huge fighter before he passed away. Plus, he spends a lot of time with Satoru Gojo, and we know how he is. Also, doesn’t he have an older brother? Brothers fight.” 
“True, but just walk with me for a second.” You sigh and look up to see Toji waving his hands animatedly as he explained. “Do you remember when we all went to the parade on New Years together, and that giant robot appeared?” 
“Yes, it was all everyone could talk about for days.” 
“Uh-huh.” He then points at you. “Do you also remember how Yuuji was gone when Spider-Man appeared at the scene?” 
You stare at him blankly. “...Toji, he went to the bathroom before everything happened,” you remind him. “I’m certain that he got lost in the crowd when everyone started running.”
Toji groans. “You don’t believe me. Baby, I’m telling you—He’s Spider-Man. I can’t prove it now, but I will eventually.” 
You sigh again and cross your arms. “Okay, so, let’s say he was. What would you do?” 
“Well, I mean…” Toji mutters, then sheepishly rubs the back of his head as he quietly chuckles. “I dunno, give him a high-five? Worry about Megumi?” 
“Trust me, Toji. The only people with secret identities here are you and I.” You reach over and grab a stack of napkins. “By the way, Megumi had a point earlier. Be more careful about where you’re leaving weapons. One of Tsumiki’s friends nearly saw one not too long ago.” 
He winces. “Sorry.” 
“You’re fine.” You push to your tip toes and gently kiss him. “No job tonight, right? I know I don’t have one.” 
“Nope. Once I get those groceries, I’m all free.” He grabs the list from you, then reaches towards you to lovingly push a loose strand of hair away from your face. “I’ll be back soon.” When he leaves through the back door, the front doorbell rings. 
You hear Megumi rush down the stairs. “I got it,” he tells you as he passes you. When the door opens, Yuuji Itadori waves at you with his usual grin. “Hi, Mrs. Fushiguro!”
“Hi, Yuuji. What happened to your face?” You ask. His lip is slightly busted, and there’s a bruise beginning to form on his jaw. Yuuji laughs sheepishly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his yellow hoodie. “Oh, uh, me and Okkotsu fought again. Gojo-sensei had to pull us apart.” 
Megumi rolls his eyes. “I swear, you’re always fighting.”
“Aw, come on, Megumi,” Yuuji teases with a smirk as he crosses his arms. “You’re just as bad. I heard about what happened a few days ago.”
Your son’s cheeks dust with pink, and he clears his throat. “Yeah, whatever. You need to get cleaned up before dinner. Come on, there’s a first-aid kit in the bathroom.” 
Megumi goes upstairs, and Yuuji follows close behind him. You’re about to tell Yuuji that the flap of his backpack is slightly unzipped, but the words get stuck in your throat when you catch the tiniest hint of the red and blue suit. You only see it for a split-second before Yuuji swings his backpack around, excitedly telling Megumi about a new action figure he wants to get for his birthday.
Your eyes widen. Holy shit. 
-----
a/n: lol i can't believe I wrote this. spidey yuuji au, you'll always be loved by me <3
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angel-sweets666 · 3 months
Text
how t some of the bakusquad boys initiate 👀
Bakugo katsuki x reader, eijiro kirishima x reader, Denki kaminari x reader
warnings: mentions of sex, more sexual stuff. No real sex tho Dw reader is mentioned to have a pussy but that’s the one gender mention
sorry I didn’t write sero I don’t have a good idea on his character
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
ALL AGED UP TO 18 AND IN 3RD YEAR
Katsuki bakugo
Bakugo either starts off subtly or straight up, no In between. He’s especially rough when he’s had a bad day
you roll over onto your side, typing to Mina about drama from class 3B (1B)When bakugo bursts open the door and slams it closed, practically making the door frame shake. “Had a bad day?” You asked him, still distracted on your phone and tapping away. Bakugo lets out a groan “I FUCKING-“ “inside voice.” You interrupted “I had a fucking ass day.” He still yelled as he threw his hero shirt and mask onto the floor, stomping over to you in bed. You peered over your shoulder and looked him up and down, noticing how dirty his boots are “bakugo take your boots off! Your filthy!!” You sat up and looked him up and down again. the blonde rolls his eyes and takes off his black and orange dirt stained boots, chucking them to the door. “There, better?” He grumbled, climbing into bed with you. “Yeah.. that’s better” you said as you rolled onto your back, bakugo sat up and pulled your legs apart and laying down on your chest. You could feel his length begin to grow harder and harder underneath you, he sat up and slowly began to rock his hips against yours. “shit- can we fuck?”
eijiro kirishima
sweet boy asks, and he’s so polite about it too! He wants to be a chivalrous hero and a great boyfriend in general to you. So of course he asks so politely:(((
you were washing some dishes in the common room, you and tsu had some noodles for lunch and you were just cleaning up the bowls from the food. Humming and dancing to yourself, kirishima watched from afar. You looked so pretty when you were happy like that, how could he not wanna fuck you? As you put away the last fork you suddenly felt a pair of very strong and solid arms wrap around you “hi baby!” You giggle and kiss his cheek, kirishima gives you a toothy grin and kisses your neck gently “hey sweetheart.. you look so pretty today” he tells you as he rubs your size “you wouldn’t possibly be in the mood would you?” He asks with his cheeks turning red “are you asking for sex?” You grinned to him and he nodded “yeah alright baby cmon”
Denki kaminari
My bro begs, like HE BEGS And not in a cute little submissive way I’m talking like really annoying “PLEASEEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE” while on his knees shuffling around to follow you
You were busy trying to clean out your dorm, preparing for graduation in the next few weeks. The task was already challenging, but it became nearly impossible with an electric blonde following you around on his knees, begging for you to let him fuck you
“PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE, ILL BE QUICK!”
You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore him as you sorted through a pile of textbooks. "Denki, I really need to get this done. Graduation is right around the corner, and I can't leave my dorm looking like a disaster zone." He shuffled closer, still on his knees, and clasped his hands together dramatically. "But I need you more than your dorm does!” You turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow “oh really?” You leaned your weight to one hip, Denki rolled his eyes then stood up, mild carpet burn on his knees from following you around “BRO YES? YOUVE GOT LIKE, A 10/10 PU-” “ DONT DAY THAT SO LOUD!” You covered his mouth then sighed “you know what… I could use the break” denkis face lit up “so… I can fuck you?” He asked with his face practically glowing as you nodded
I said I’d tag u next time I wrote for Denki kaminari so here! I hope it was as accurate as last time @b0o0o
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a-s-ter · 4 months
Text
"𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆"
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— 𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: If you don't want your butler to reach a breaking point and take matters into his own hands by 'disciplining' you, perhaps refrain from behaving like a spoiled brat next time.
— 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: rough sex , unprotected sex , brat!reader , overstimulation , bttm male reader , blowjob , smacking , swearing , dirtytalk , praise , manhandling , dirty talk , age gap , virgin!reader , making out , degradation , petnames , non con , public sex.
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PART 1 , PART 2
You sat at the long, luxurious dinner table while the maid nervously watched you eat the food prepared for you. As you took a bite, the maid grew anxious, eyes fixed on your every move. Moments later, a displeased expression crossed your face, and the maid seemed to brace herself for what was to come, as if she had expected it.
"blech!" you spat the meal you were eating. "This is disgusting! Make me another one!" you shouted, throwing the plate of food to the ground, shattering it into pieces. You glared at the maid, who nodded and hurriedly began picking up the broken fragments from the floor.
As the maid cleaned, your impatience mounted. "Move faster!" you demanded. Startled, she flinched, causing the shattered glass to prick her skin, blood seeping from the cuts.
You didn't care. The sight of her blood, her pain—none of it mattered to you. You were a just brat after all.
"Hurry up! I'm growing impatient, you vermin!" you scolded, your harsh words causing tears to well up in her eyes. She nodded quickly and, once done cleaning the mess, ran off to get your new food.
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"He wants another dish." the maid announced to the weary chefs. It was the fourth meal you had dismissed.
"Again? What does that brat even like?!" one chef groaned, exasperated. "He's just toying with us. He enjoys seeing us suffer because he has all that power," another chef complained.
The butler, Kyzer, heard their conversation as he passed through the hallways. The chefs and maid flinched when he entered the kitchen. "S-Sir Kyzer!" bowed the maid.
"Oh, Kyzer, what brings you here?" a male chef inquired.
"Pardon me but I accidentally overheard one of your discussion regarding the unfortunate incident with the prince. It saddens me that the boy has, for the fourth time, squandered your hard-prepared meals. I intend to address this matter with him personally, in the hope of curbing this unacceptable behavior." Kyzer declared, his words resonating deeply with the maid and the chefs.
"Kyzer, we appreciate it, but you don't have to do that! We can handle him... I think?" another chef responded, though his voice wavered with uncertainty.
"I must. I don't want your hard work and efforts to go to waste," Kyzer said firmly, his resolve clear.
"K-kyzer, you're so kind to us!" one of the chefs exclaimed, clearly moved by his actions. "I just don't understand why M/n can't be more like you—polite, kind, and well-mannered, instead of such a brat!"
"Well, he's been surrounded by abundance and luxury his whole life. His parents never taught him proper etiquette, so I suppose that's why he turned out that way," another chef remarked.
"Hm... Would you also like me to teach him a thing or two?" "
"Yes! That would be wonderful, Kyzer! Please change his behavior if you can," the chefs pleaded, bowing deeply in gratitude.
"I'll do my best. Now, if you'll excuse me," Kyzer said, bowing before leaving the kitchen. He walked purposefully through the grand hallways of the kingdom toward the dining room where you were waiting.
A few minutes later, Kyzer arrived and opened the large door to the dining room. There you were, sitting alone at the long table, surrounded by empty chairs, waiting impatiently for your food with an annoyed cute expression on your face.
You turned to look at him, his long white hair and piercing yellow eyes sending a chill down your spine. "Who are you? And where is that maid? Why is she taking so long? Ugh!" you grumbled, sounding like a spoiled child.
"My name is Kyzer, your highness," he introduced himself, bowing deeply with one hand on his chest and the other arm behind his back. "The maid is in the kitchen, and it takes time to prepare a new dish for you, your highness." he explained, maintaining his respectful bow.
"Then make them cook faster. I'm getting impatient here!" you demanded, scrutinizing Kyzer from head to toe.
"I'm afraid I cannot your highness. I'm here for other reasons," Kyzer replied, straightening up.
"What?! How dare a lowly butler like you defy my orders?!" you exclaimed, shocked by his refusal. "What even is your reason here?" you demanded, glaring at him.
"You."
"W-what?" you responded, disbelief evident in your tone.
"I'm here because of you, Your Highness," he said, his yellow eyes boring into yours.
You felt a twinge of nervousness under his intense glare, but you weren't one to back down. Crossing your arms defiantly, you retorted. "Me? What for? If it's something insignificant, you get out of my sight!"
"Oh, Your Highness, it's far from unimportant because it's about you."
"About me!? Just what are you trying to say?" you replied while staring at him with perplexity and fury.
He was starting to get on your nerves.
"It's about your behavior and manners, Your Highness. They need to change—"
You snapped, standing up abruptly and grabbing a wine glass. You threw it at him, but it missed and shattered against the wall instead.
"Don't try and give me lessons about behavior and manners, it won't work on me you imbecile!" you shouted, your voice echoing through the grand dining room. As you met his gaze, you flinched at the intensity of his icy glare fixed on you.
You were slowly getting on his nerves.
Somehow, you felt a twinge of regret for your actions, but what was done was done, and there was no turning back. "I'm giving you a chance. I'll let this slide for now!" you scoffed, striding towards him and 'accidentally' bumping his shoulder as you headed for the door. "Tell the maids to clean up the mess." you ordered, but he said nothing.
Weird.
Just as you were about to open the door, he grabbed you roughly by the hair, eliciting a pained sound from you. He threw you to the floor, and you landed hard on your backside, hissing in pain.
"What the fuck are you doing!? If my parents hear about this, your head will be cut off!" you yelled, staring up at him, though part of you wished you hadn't. Behind those intense yellow eyes, you sensed something ominous lurking. Something telling you that something bad was about to happen.
"This is your last chance."
"Change. Your. Behavior."
You chuckled, "And why should I?" you raised an eyebrow, smirking defiantly.
"People are suffering because of you. Your crude and mean comments, your filthy mouth—they need to be purified. And I know you didn't receive proper etiquette, so I'm willing to teach you." he explained.
"Purified!? fuck off! They deserve it. I don't care whether I hurt their feelings or not, they're lowlifes! They don't deserve to be treated the same way. And those chefs and maids? They're just servants, working for us. They're poor, probably came from the gutter, ew! They don't deserve special treatment like us royals!" you retorted venomously.
And then he finally snapped.
As he walked towards you, confusion clouded your expression. "What are you doing—" but your words were cut off as he grabbed you by the collar and dragged you onto the table. You struggled to pry his hands away, but he was too strong.
"Get your dirty hands off me!" you shouted at him, but he ignored your protests. With a swift motion, he threw you onto the table, and you cried out in surprise. Landing with a thud, you quickly placed both palms on the table, using it to support your weight.
As you tried to regain your composure. He forcefully stripped off your pants and underwear, leaving your lower body exposed. Your eyes widened in shock and embarrassment. "Stop! What are you doing with those filthy hands of yours!" you cried out, feeling utterly vulnerable and violated.
You found yourself facing away from him, your exposed backside vulnerable and humiliating. As you attempted to look back at him, he forcefully shoved your head to the ground with his hand, preventing any movement. Struggling to rise, you found yourself pinned in place, utterly helpless.
"S-stop this instant! Someone could walk in here at any moment, you idiot!" you pleaded desperately, but he only inched his face closer to your ear.
"Count." he whispered.
"W-what?"
Smack!
"Wah!" you gasped in surprise as the sharp stinging sensation of his hand striking your exposed ass jolted through you.
"I said, count." he repeated.
"H-how dare you tell me what to do—"
Smack!!
A sharp gasp escaped your lips as he delivered a firmer blow to your backside, the sensation igniting a mixture of pain and arousal that pulsed through your body.
"If you don't count, Your Highness, it'll only get worse and harsher," he warned, caressing your slightly reddened ass. "So please do as I say." he urged, his voice soft yet commanding.
Smack!
"O-one," you stammered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.
Smack!
"T-two..."
Smack!
"T—..three." you breathed out, your face pressed down onto the table. Each smack sent a jolt of sensation through you, a mixture of pain and a strange, exhilarating—....pleasure?
He seemed to be truly enjoying your reactions, relishing in the cute gasps and flinches you let out. A smile spread across his lips as he gently paused the spanks, caressing your ass for a moment before resuming with renewed vigor.
Smack!
"f-four!"
As the spanking continued, it eventually came to a halt when you ceased to respond. Sensing your exhaustion, he removed his hand from atop your head, understanding that you had no energy left to fight. Your rear end was now red and throbbing, you had lost track of the count. With gentle care, he soothen your reddened cheeks, offering a moment of relief and comfort.
"How many was it, Your Highness?" His voice was tender as he sought to ground you in the moment.
"I... I don't know," you murmured weakly, your voice barely audible over the echo of pain.
"It's 26, Your Highness," he informed you, his fingers coaxing your face to meet his gaze. As you turned to look at him, he couldn't help but feel a surge of desire. Your flushed cheeks, those endearing hiccups, those captivating eyes, those cute lips...
Fuck... Every aspect of you stirred an undeniable attraction within him, you were turning him on.
He gazed at your lips, inching his face closer to yours, slowly, deliberately. You tried to turn away, but he held your face firmly in place. He was so close, close enough to feel the warmth of your breath on his skin, close enough to taste your plump lips...
Knock, knock!
The sound jarred him from the moment, a surge of frustration coursing through him. Damn it, he had forgotten they were at the dining table.
"Your Highness, your food is ready," the maid's voice came from outside the door.
"Now, if you cause another disturbance, you'll face another punishment. You don't want that, do you?" he said, his eyes locking onto yours with an unwavering intensity.
"F-fuck you... L-let me go and get my pants! T-this is an order," you demanded weakly, still exhausted from the pain and the effort of keeping your screams contained so the maids wouldn't become suspicious and barge in.
Kyzer was going to follow your orders, but his eyes darted down to your shaft, which was standing up confidently. "Are you sure, Your Highness? You're quite... hard down there. You wouldn't want an uncomfortable erection, would you?" he taunted, his hand lowering from your ass to your shaft.
"N-no, it'll go down. Stop!" you stammered, but a moan escaped your lips as he touched you. "Look at this cute little cock, so pretty, just like its owner," Kyzer murmured, beginning to stroke you. You let out a loud moan and quickly covered your mouth.
"Your Highness, may I come in?" the maid called from outside, oblivious to what was happening inside the room. Kyzer continued to stroke you slowly, the deliberate pace heightening your frustration.
"H-hurry up!" you ordered, your voice strained with urgency.
"You want me to hurry? Then beg for it, Your Highness," he smirked, his hand engulfing your tiny lil sensitive cock.
You were embarrassed and humiliated at this point. You, a prince, begging for something? It infuriated you, but the thought of your reputation being ruined drove you to comply.
"P-please hurry up, please let—hng!...M-me cum." you begged, your teary eyes locking with his mischievous yellow ones. He licked his lips, clearly enjoying your submission.
"As you wish, Your Highness," he said, his pace quickening as he stroked you up and down, causing your back to arch off the table.
"Mmhp!?" you moaned, drool seeping from your mouth as you tried to stifle your sounds with your hand. He began to tease the tip of your cock with his index finger, swirling it clockwise.
"Your Highness, please let me hear those beautiful moans... Please let me hear how good I’m making you feel," he whispered. Lost in the pleasure, you obliged, moaning louder, no longer able to control yourself.
"That's it," he breathed, his lustful eyes fixed on your flushed face. Drool was seeping from your mouth, your cheeks were a deep shade of red, and your eyebrows were scrunched up in pure ecstasy. The sight of you like this almost made him cum in his pants. "That's a good boy." he grinned, his own arousal evident as he continued to bring you closer to the edge.
"Are you gonna cum for me, Your Highness?" Kyzer's voice dripped with seduction, his smile widening as he saw you lost in pleasure. "Fuck... You're so adorable when you're messed up." His face flushed as he leaned in, licking the tears streaming down your cheeks. The sensation made you shiver, and he grinned, quickening his pace.
"Nngh—!... Ahh! I-I'm gon' c-cum!!" you cried out, your body trembling as you threw your head back.
"Cum for me, Your Highness. Be a good boy and cum for me."
"A-ahh~!" Your cute little cock spurted, painting the marble floor with streaks of white as you panted heavily, sweat glistening on your skin.
"Well done, Your Highness. I'm very proud of you~♡" he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "I knew you could do it." He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
"Your Highness? Are you there?" the maid called from outside the door, her voice filled with concern.
"Let's get you dressed up, yeah?" Kyzer said softly, his voice a mix of amusement and authority. He retrieved your discarded clothing, his touch gentle but firm as he helped you back into your garments. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he adjusted your clothing with meticulous care.
You were still trembling, the aftershocks of pleasure making it difficult to stand. Kyzer's hands were steady, though, guiding you through each movement as he redressed you.
"Remember, Your Highness," he murmured, his lips close to your ear, "I will change your behavior. This is just the beginning." He smirked.
Once you were fully dressed, he took a step back, his eyes scanning you with satisfaction. "There you go, presentable as ever." He straightened his own attire, ensuring he looked impeccable before turning towards the door.
As he opened it, the maid stood waiting with your meal. "Your food, Your Highness," she said, bowing slightly.
Kyzer gave you one last meaningful glance, his eyes lingering on yours. "Enjoy your meal your highness." he said smoothly, before stepping aside to let the maid through.
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hxnbi · 5 months
Text
ღ blue lock boys and their love language
₊˚Ꮺ pairings: nagi seishiro, itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, mikage reo, itoshi sae, bachira meguru x gn. reader (separate)
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♡ NAGI SEISHIRO◞ ꞋꞌꞋꞌ
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NAGI, even for his age, is extremely clingy. Whether it is day or night, busy or not, you will see a messy, white-haired teenager clinging to you like a needy koala. It was cute at first, you thought, that is, until you had to do your typical mundane tasks like washing the dishes, cleaning up, or even just doing something as simple as lazily looking at your phone in bed, for crying out loud. You're watching something? Oh well, now its we, all the while, as Nagi collapses next to you, holding you by the waist and pouting about how you didn't invite him.
“But Sei, I thought you hated gore?”
“I like it when I’m with you.”
“Uh huh…”
Though he loves games more than anything else, above all, he adores holding you in his arms, all the while he rambles on in short and scruffy murmurs, complaining about school and the supposedly awful cafeteria food. And keeping you while he's playing games in bed, with you watching him do so? That is Nagi's idea of a perfect date. What more could he ever want? All that he desires is right here in his arms.
♡ ITOSHI RIN◞ ꞋꞌꞋꞌ
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The dude doesn't have a colourful bone in his body. To those, even just imagining RIN having a significant other is enough to make those aware drop to an early grave. But, unbeknownst to most, Rin is extremely protective over you. To him, you are his other half, and he is willing to do anything in order to secure your safety above all else. And to also stay the hell away from his brother? Now, that's just a delightful bonus. To you, his sincere actions were his way of showing that he cared.
He considers himself to be your protector, and he will ensure you know this about him. You don't have to lift a finger; he's already on it. His presence alone makes your cheeks flush pink. The things that Rin does, whether it's to help you study for an English test or walk home together late at night, he goes out of his way to show his love and devotion to you and you only, even if it means taking on responsibilities and burdens.
♡ ISAGI YOICHI◞ ꞋꞌꞋꞌ
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ISAGI is a pure, earnest, kind-hearted boy—that is, when he's not on the field. But that's beside the point. Isagi is aware of his shortcomings and flaws, but he's not about to let that stop him from telling you all about him. Isagi is, undeniably, a heart-on-his-sleeve kind of guy with his unabashed display of affection towards you. For better or for worse, Isagi will let you know what he thinks. His love language becomes apparent. Isagi cherishes the intimacy of being close to his loved one.
He's all about being utterly and completely transparent with his feelings about you. Not even the most oblivious of people could see the way that Isagi looked at you and assume it was anything but pure adoration. Meanwhile, the others in Blue Lock would watch on from a distance with envy and possibly awe as you and Isagi were together. Or just plain disgust at the sight of romance in their vicinity. Everyone, regardless of what side they were on, had one thought in mind.
'Is this really the same guy from on the field…?'
♡ MIKAGE REO◞ ꞋꞌꞋꞌ
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When you're with REO, no day is complete without him taking you somewhere lavish, using his influence. You would often find yourself being showered with gifts and luxuries, but nothing is done without your consent, and Reo made damn sure that you were never uncomfortable. He has money, and he is not hesitant to use it. Nothing pleases him more than to spend money he believed to be mere pocket change in exchange for your happiness.
Reo is a busy guy with not only his studies but also being the heir of the Mikage Corporation and then Blue Lock. There's a lot Reo can obtain with money, but there are just as many things he can't—time. Interestingly enough, nothing screams fulfillment to him more than quality time, and utilizing his wealth to create those moments with you holds great significance to him—more than you could imagine—rather than merely simply buying material possessions.
♡ ITOSHI SAE◞ ꞋꞌꞋꞌ
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Itoshi SAE is famous, there's no doubt about it. Not only is he prided as the best player in Japan, but he is also recognized as one of the youngest. But that level of attention also comes with immense scrutiny. Sae takes pride not just in his football playing but also in his cold, blunt, and aloof persona. He has only ever cared about becoming the best striker in the world, but despite his own ambitions, he felt a simmering rage ignite in him whenever the media dared to mention you. Because to him, you were his other half.
He hated the press—absolutely despised it—and he was disgusted how every move you made, good or not, would then be scrutinized by reporters and the public alike. No matter what you did, people would give excuses that you didn’t deserve to be with him. Sae would make sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that doubt would never be cast in front of your eyes again. Doubting his love for you is his biggest fear, and it's because of that fear that he tries to spend every possible moment with you. Quality time is hard for a person like him to come by, but that gives even more reason to cherish the little time you both have. 
♡ BACHIRA MEGURU◞ ꞋꞌꞋꞌ
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Now, unlike Isagi and Nagi, BACHIRA is a delightful blend of both. He's just as clingy as Nagi, and his words can be just as endearing as Isagi. He is all over you with his words, adoring and cherishing you like there's no tomorrow. And to him, there really isn't. For his significant other, there is no point in hiding how he truly feels. This boy is unapologetically honest and is not above engaging in PDA. And so, when the opportunity presents itself, he is all over you. His eccentric energy personality really is contagious, and physical affection is Bachira's way of expressing love; it's his way of expressing that he genuinely loves you with no doubt.
During Bachira's childhood, he was actively bullied, which made him terrified of being alone. You saw that fear manifesting in the instances when Bachira, in the middle of the night, would tightly clutch onto you, showing no inclination to release his hold, consumed by the dread of losing you. At times when Bachira would be back home, he would envelop you in his arms, showering you with affection and whispering endearments, before quickly dozing off with you right in his arms like a stuffed animal, only to then oversleep, even after his alarm went off. With Bachira's phone buzzing in your grasp, you swiftly silenced it, opting to allow him to remain undisturbed in slumber as you gently ran your fingers through his hair. Perhaps, you can let him sleep peacefully by your side. Just this once.
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©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.
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werecreature-addicted · 5 months
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Always thinking about whatever monster is capable of using their claws to tear a hole through your stockings where your wet heat is, werewolf or otherwise: They're too impatient
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werewolves are of course very good, but many monsters have sharp claws and big tounges to fuck you with.
Imagine, a seven-foot-tall Orc husband who wants nothing more than to spend all day with you in bed making you cum until you go limp and pass out from pleasure. and depending on your boundaries, maybe a little after that too.
But nooooo you can't stay in bed getting fucked all day. you have to "do housework" and "run errands". or whatever. Your orc husband does understand that if you spend your time on his dick instead of doing dishes and buying groceries it will make his life worse, but it's hard to care about stuff like food when he's thinking with his cock.
He follows you around as you jump between tasks trying to find a large enough window of free time for a quicky. He thinks you're so cute when you act like his little housewife it only makes him want to fuck you more. but you stay too busy to take a quick load of Orc cum.
By the time you finally consider your work done for the day, he's on edge and his nerves are shot, he feels like he's going to burst just looking at you. you try to sit down on the couch but half a second later you're snapped up and thrown over his shoulder. It's finally his time to have some fun.
He tosses you on your shared bed on your hands and knees, spreading your legs wide apart, and slashes at your clothes with his long talon-like nails. He presses his mouth to your exposed cunt and moans at your taste, he pushes the remaining scraps of your clothes away while keeping his mouth on you, unwilling to let go of your sweet pussy for even a second now that he has you where he wants you.
He's happy like that making out with your pussy, gripping onto your hips with one hand and jerking off his poor ignore cock with the other. He growls to himself as he listens to your pretty moans of pleasure as you buck your hips back against his face, trying to fuck yourself back on his thick tongue, groaning in satisfaction when you cum, gushing on his mouth, dripping down his chin. Then he swaps his tongue out for his fingers, dipping his mouth a little lower to suck on your clit.
You whimper and protest weakly the feeling was too much this soon after your first orgasm, which just makes him laugh to himself. "would you prefer if I just fucked you right now without stretching you out?" he asks teasingly. That shut you up. Silly little thing, you didn't really think you'd get away with only one orgasm after teasing him all day, did you?
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damiansgoodgirll · 1 year
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Jude being clingy and wanting reader to hold him
jude bellingham x reader
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clingy
“jude please…i gotta do a lot of things today” you said trying to stand up from the bed but jude’s hands wouldn’t leave your body.
“no…” he mumbled into your neck.
“jude…” you almost begged him.
“five more minutes please…then i’ll let you go” he whispered half asleep and you knew you couldn’t say no to that.
“okay…just five more minutes…” and of course, five more minutes turned into an hour as you fell asleep once again. you almost ended up sleeping all morning and when you woke up again you almost had a heart attack seeing how late it was.
you violently moved jude’s body away from yours and you stood up.
you heard jude groaning but you didn’t care.
the house was a mess as you and jude just came back from a weekend in greece and you left your suitcases all over the living room. you needed to buy some food because you had only a few things left, you needed to go to the post office to send a few packages and you needed to clean the house a little and of course, waking up almost at lunch time didn’t make it easy for you to do all of that.
“come back to bed…” jude slightly opened his eyes when he heard noises coming from the bathroom.
“nope! now you get up and you help me with the house…first of all take your luggage away from the living room cause i have to wash the floor” you said exiting the bathroom.
“later…i’m tired…and you should come back to bed with me, i wanna cuddle” he gave you his puppy look and you almost came back to bed, almost.
jude got up too when he saw you leaving the bedroom and he followed you like a puppy. he moved his luggage back to the bedroom but he stayed with you the whole time you cleaned the floor, he watched every movement you made.
he watched as you unpacked your clothes and put them in the washing machine. he didn’t leave your side when you were cooking lunch for the two of you and he even helped you setting the table.
but once he was done, his hands came back to your waist as he laid his head in the crook of your neck.
“jude…”
“you smell good” he said leaving a soft kiss to your neck.
“nah…it’s probably the food” you joked.
you both ate together but the moment you stood up to clean the dishes, jude did it first and ran to the sink.
“you know it’s not a challenge right…” you teased him.
“i know but when the dishes are done we can cuddle on the couch so i want to do them quickly…” he said giving you the puppy eyes once again.
“we have to go buy some food at the market” you told him but he said no.
“we can go tomorrow and take out tonight…please” he begged you.
so when the dishes were done, jude practically grabbed and threw you on the couch.
“hold me please…” he whispered as he laid his head over your stomach. it wasn’t really often that jude would be clingy like that but everything he searched for your warmth you couldn’t help but melt.
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