25 | Because I rather share my shame with strangers Multifan: DC, Marvel, COD Bluesky: haunty.bsky.social AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scenendipity/pseuds/Scenendipity
I have a lot of old drawings that I simply dont post. Especially since I kinda deactivated my tiktok. Idk. Should I download it? I have other social media that I just dont use because im not on the internet that often. Anyways I love the song Older by Isabel LaRosa. Is up my alley on what I like to listen to
Simon pulling you off his dick mid bouncing, his hands gripping the fat of your hips as he try’s to drag you up towards his face.
“Up, mama” he mutters as his grip tightened trying to get you to just sit on his face. He just wants to feel your soft supple thighs on either side of his head, and your sweet cunt on his mouth. He wants to be surrounded by you. To be engulfed by you and your delicious pussy.
Trying to refuse what he’s asking of you only gets him to beg more, mutter sweet words to you as he continues to pull you up towards his face, just aching for it.
This is something that the two of you haven’t done together yet, but it’s been the only thing that Simon can think of. Your hips rocking back and forth your slick coating his face as he has his tongue buried deep inside you. Making you squirm around on top of him, trying to lift up and away from his teasing tongue. Only making him wrap his arms around your thighs to hold you in place, his strong arms holding you steady with ease whilst he continues his assault on your poor little pussy.
Sometimes he’ll land a light slap to your ass as a warning if you still continue to squirm after he’s contained you with his arms, mumbling something about behaving as he’s sucking your clit into his mouth.
Simon takes great pride in pleasing his woman, it’s probably his biggest turn on to be honest. Seeing you all sweaty with your flushed face and your legs shaking as you try to recover from the 3 orgasm that Simon gave you all in a row.
Summary: After an accident that left his girlfriend in a wheelchair. Johnny tries his best to keep their lives they way it was.
Warnings: angst to fluff. Car accident. Disable reader
Notes: Aint got much to say other than I like slow soul music and sad scenerios. No drawing in this one but i’ll make one eventually I guess.
There was nothing better than waking up on a Saturday morning with no alarm and the gentle sound of jazz resonating outside the bedroom. There was an empty side on the bed, unmade but with the continuous hums and constant la la la’s he knew he was not alone. He grins at the thought, he always does. His day felt a lot better than the stressful weekday he just had.
This was John’s morning. Every weekend was the same but his love always grew bigger. Jumping out of the bed to see ____ dancing in the living room he was falling in love again and again. She’s dancing to Nina Simone, “I Put a Spell on You,” and while he doesn’t know the lyrics, he knows that ____ cast a spell on him. To love her, to adore her. She sings and swings across the loft and John joins her waltz. It was beautiful. They were beautiful.
But nothing like that lasts.
John wants to blame everyone. Blame the distracted driver for hitting her car, the traffic light for suddenly stop working in the middle of a busy intersection, the police for not being there to put order, the goddamn paramedics for getting there too, and the fucking doctor that told him ____ may never walk again. Fuck them, all of them. She didn’t deserve it, not to her. ____ loves to dance, she loves to move and run and jump and
“Johnny, Let’s go home.” Her voice breaks John away from his thoughts and he looks down. She’s one a wheelchair, legs hidden under a blanket John gratuitously provided when she asked him to bring one. Lips turned to a smile but her eyes were bleak, dark under eyes and bags. They were puffy and red and he knew she had been crying.
He nods and moves behind her to push the wheelchair even after ____ starts to complain.
"I can do it, it's okay.” ”It's fine, I want to do it.” John would reply, cutting her off so she could only sit other and brood. They get to the car and ____ is silent. He tries to make conversation but she remains mute. Even after they get home and John insists on carrying her, ____ doesn't utter a word.
“Are you mad?”
“I’m tired.”
John didn't bother her for the rest of the night. He lay her on their bed to rest, only bothering her to ask if she was hungry or wanted to use the bathroom. The question only made her mad and ____ ended up yelling at him. That's when he saw it. Saw her. Sobbing her eyes out, clenching her heart as it hurt, and that desolate look he had never seen on her before. ____ was suffering. John acted on impulse, despite her cries to get him away he persisted and gathered her in his arms. One arm tightly wrapped around her waist and a hand keeping her head against him as she wept, cried, and screamed next to him.
"I hate this! I hate it all! Why did this have to happen to me?! ” ____ was yelling at this point, cursing every person that was involved in the accident. John just kept her by his side, consoling her the entire time.
She finally fell asleep after crying for hours. It was heartbreaking, her life, he aspirations, everything just goes down the drain in fucking seconds. He knows how much she loved to dance, it was her fucking job for fucks sake and now she can’t even stand.
John wanted to make things as normal as possible. ____ didn’t like to be pitied so he made sure everything flowed like it always does.
On a weekday, John gets up in the morning early. ___ is still asleep even after he’s done dressing kisses her goodbye and leaves for the day.
It's around midday that she wakes up, later than usual since she can’t work but, looking at the positive, ____ now has time to catch up on some of her series. Is around this time that John calls to chat and asks how she’s holding up.
John doesn’t get home until late in the evening. Exhausted but still eager to see ___, finding him curled up under blankets on the couch and her wheelchair thrown next to her. The kitchen was a mess, things were thrown on the floor, and plates shattered from trying to reach them. There was also some blood but ___ refused to be checked for cuts. He decided to take the week off.
Tuesday is the same but John stays on the bed longer, alerting ____ of his presence, already late to meet the others for practice.
“I wanted to stay with you.”
“I can take care of myself just fine, Johnny .”
John spends all day tagging along with ____. Groceries? She almost ran over John with the electric cart when he said she looked like an old lady. Shopping? Couldn’t try on a pair of pants without John helping her. Movies? The only wheelchair-accessible seats were in the front when ____ always preferred to sit in the back.
It was not a good day. He knew that much.
After that, they spend the rest of the weekday in silence and solitude. ____ didn't bother to go out much and John didn't even ask for the two to go out
When Saturday came around, ____ woke up early. A habit of getting up before him during the weekends to make breakfast. It was not until she was sitting on the bed, legs on the floor that she was painfully reminded of her predicament.
But she's resilient as she's stubborn.
John wakes up late, smiling when he smells the pancakes and hears the blues. Turning to his side he finds the bed empty then he jumps. ____. That's his immediate thought. The wheelchair was gone, her slippers on her side of the bed, and blues still boom outside of the door.
“Baby…?”
A hum calls him and John turns to see her over the counter, next to the stove, a plate in hand, and a spatula. Her speaker is in full volume. He didn’t even begin to wonder how she got up there when John was walking over to her, hugging her side and burying his head in the crook of her neck.
“What are you doing? Come back to bed,” John pleaded when he looked at her again, brows furrowed in worry and his eyes going wide. Her bittersweet ones looked at him indifferently, scanning his features like she had never seen him before.
“You know… this is actually my favorite song,” ____ changes the conversation when she turns to the speaker; Bill Withers, ‘Make a smile for me.’ Is slow and soulful, booming ever so gently in the apartment. It was melancholic, bittersweet like her and John just nodded. “We used to dance to it.”
“Why don’t you?” She looks at John as if he just said something offensive like he didn’t know she couldn’t walk again but he’s smarter than that. She knew that, and when she looked at him, face flat without a sense he was mocking her, she knew he was being serious.
“Are you fucking serious?” ____ chuckled, choked up by his indifference and suddenly so bitter he even proposed. “I can barely stand, let alone walk and you want me to dan—” John lifts her, one hand gripping her side, hard against his chest and another is on her upper back. Legs dangling and is more embarrassing than she imagined. Is not until he’s swaying that she gets a sense of what he’s doing.
Dancing.
She’s dancing, dancing with John slowly and gently and so… heartbreaking. This is not dancing, she knows better but the dedication, his love, and going as far as to carry just so they could dance together.
“You like this song right?” John breaks her thoughts. Him looking down at ____ with so much love and gentleness, she can’t look at anything but him. “Sing it for me love.”
She’s mute, breathless, and just looking at John with wonder in her eyes. She doesn’t process his question until he asks again. A smile brightens his features and she’s falling in love all over again.
“Make… Make a smile for me,
Lately, I've been so lonely,
And a smile from you,
Might make these blues go away,”
____ recites the lyrics and John just hums, moving slowly from side to side, ____ can barely feel movement. “I want you to smile for me.”
“Why?”
“Because… I love you.”
Right. He loves her. He stayed with her all these days. Got mad for her, cried for her, and when it was her time to vent he lent her his shoulder to cry and scream even after that he just wanted everything to go back to normal, for the two to wake up together, soft jazz playing in the background and pancakes being made every morning. Because he loves her and she loves him too.
“I love you too,” ____ replies, grinning as bright as ever, and the two dance.
blakekathryn
pixelskylines
theartofmadeline
vaporwave
gummygunk
gamechangershow
romaincrisis
