#babying

boyfriend!steve babying you while you’re sick *.❤︎₊ ⊹

the world felt fuzzy as you laid in steve’s bed, the thick comforter on top of you becoming too hot for the fever blanketing your body.

“hey, sleepyhead” his voice was so soft as it came from the doorway, the usual sass and gentle teasing was completely absent. he sat down on the edge of the bed and began to softly brush the stray hairs from your forehead that had begun to stick from the faint sheen of sweat beginning to form. “how’s my girl?”

you shook your head, pale and dizzy “head.. hurts”

you could faintly see the frown of concern that immediately took over steve’s features “i know, sweetheart..” he picked up a mug from the side table with a strained smile, trying to sound hopeful “i made you tea, just the way you like. lots and lots of honey. sip f’me?”

“i’m not sure i can sit up, baby”

“don’t worry about a thing, i’ve got you.. just a few sips. okay?” he shifted closer and placed a hand on the back of your head to carefully support you while he brought the mug to your lips. you nodded as the warmth of the tea transferred to your tongue. “there you go… good girl” his thumb ran over the corner of your mouth to collect a drop of tea.

“thank you, stevie..” you shifted your head back down and closed your eyes as his hand stroked your cheekbone.

“anything for you, princess.. just focus on getting better, m’kay?” his voice was so tender. he began to lay down beside you, careful to not disturb the comfortable position you’ve found for yourself before arranging the pillows to nestle your head on his shoulder, his arm going around your back to hold you close as his fingers traced soothing lines up and down.

you found yourself instantly soothed by the rhythm of his heart and steady breathing. a fragile soft smile touching your lips as you nuzzled closer into his warmth.

“i’ve got you, honey” he began to hum a soft tune into your hair in between soft kisses against your temple. his hand was still drifting up and down your back soothingly as you began to fall back to sleep with the safety of your boyfriend holding onto you, knowing he’d do anything to make sure you were okay again.

— ‪♡

steve is such a softie. this was requested! requests are open. likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated. thank you ‪♡

read more of my steve stuff here!

I LOVE YOUR STUFF FOR THE 141!!!

So, I don’t really know like how your requests work, but I checked and saw that you took them, so id thought I’d ask.

What would the 141 do with a reader who’s kind of a crybaby? Like, not so much that they cry all the time, but like if they’re overly mad, overstimulated, or like basically any extreme of anything, they cry. They don’t like that they do it— they think it’s kind of weak and childish— but when the waterworks start, they can’t really stop it.

I apologize if this isn’t really a great prompt, but Ive just been thinking about it so I just wanted to see if you’d try it.

THANK YOUUUU !!!

To their credit they were very gracious.

You had always been a bit more inclined to shed tears. Whenever small instances started to build, one thing could just send you over the edge into crying territory.

Today, it was a casserole. The boys had just returned from a long period of deployment, finally coming back home to you. You had a whole plan in your head about the house being spotless, and you looking nice, and having a fancy dinner ready. But everything had been going wrong. You were having a bad hair day and the store had been out of the cream you needed and you had spilled something on the carpet and couldn’t get it up and you were so flustered about everything being perfect and how everything was going wrong that when you went to pull the casserole from the oven you completely forgot about the concept of oven mitts.

And so a yelp left you as your hand was met with the burning glass, followed shortly by a large crash of the dish shattering on the ground, another whine escaping you as a shard sliced you shin.

“Darling?” Came the concerned yell from the living room. That just made you want to cry more.

You didn’t want them to see you like this. You always wanted to be perfect for them, and most times you just weren’t. This being a prime example. You quickly grabbed a rag and found a home on the floor to start cleaning up. Tears were already falling by the time John rounded the corner.

John kneeled down beside you, gripped your chin between his finger and thumb to make you look at him. You knew he would have convinced the others to stay in the living room to not overwhelm you more. When he saw the tears starting to fall his tsk’d gently and wiped them away with his thumb. “Trying to take on too much again, eh sweetness?” When he spotted the blood slowly dripping from your shin, he hummed and looked closer, “You’ll be alright, sweetheart. Go find Simon and Kyle, they’ll fix you up. I’ll take care of this.” He grabs you under the arms and plops you back on your feet, which made you equal parts appreciative and angry for him treating you like you’d break. Though…you can’t say you didn’t feel fragile. He grabs the first aid kit from under the sink and hands it to you to take.

You listen, practically running back with your tail tucked between your legs to find Simon. He had been lounging on the couch next to Kyle reading a book (though you suspected he had been pretending to read again after the crash), but when you entered the room and they both looked up to see your little pout and wet cheeks, Simon immediately tucked the book away, opening his arms for you to crawl onto his lap. Kyle turned off the game he was watching with a, “honey…”

You sniffled pathetically and used your sleeves to wipe away some new tears before indulging and cuddling up to Simon, placing the first aid kit beside you.

“Now, what happened ‘ere, lovie?” He said softly in your ear, tucking your hair away.

More sniffles, you found it hard to talk when you cried, “…dropped the dish.”

“That’s alright, let’s get this cleaned up, hmm?” He handed the kit to Kyle, who pulled out some alcohol wipes, a bandaid, and some burn cream to treat you.

He kneeled down in front of the couch where you and Simon sat, gently grabbing your calf to stabilize it while he cleaned the cut. It stung. Which just made you more upset, you couldn’t help the small whimper when more tears came. You rung your uninjured hand in Simon’s sweatshirt.

Simon fitted his chin in the space between your shoulder and neck while Kyle just leaned down and kissed your knee above the cut, finishing cleaning and dressing it.

Johnny was a sympathy crier. So when he came back from the store and walked into the door to the sight of Simon and Kyle comforting you, he dropped the bags by the door and came over immediately. He kneeled down in front of you too, grabbing your hips and flinging himself onto your lap, letting out an incredibly high pitched “what happened?” Which kind of helped because seeing his eyes start to get blurry and his sniffing get more frequent all because you were crying made you giggle. They all lightened up a little at the noise.

Johnny insisted on taking over for Kyle, applying the burn cream with a feather-light touch, kissing your knuckles when he was done.

John strolled back into the living room from the kitchen, wiping his hands off on a rag before tossing it over his shoulder, “well…how’s pizza sound?”

good puppy (req)

summary: puppy reader is desperate for gee’s attention, he makes her tell him exactly what she wants, and fucks her in reward

warnings:18+, smut & fluff, daddy kink, pet play, pet names, dom/sub dynamic, p in v, spanking, degradation + praise.

an: feeding my children before i go revise, yes i am writing gerard way smut instead of english lit revision. i must do it now. anyways enjoy!!

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you’d gotten so used to hiding discomfort that you barely noticed when you were doing it anymore, keeping everything bottled up inside while you sit there dumbly, waiting for his attention, toying with him to play with you.

that was the problem, you wouldn’t tell him.

but gerard noticed. always.

tonight it started small, too many people at once, too much noise in the apartment, everyone occupied in their own conversations, one of his friends talking over you without realizing it. nothing catastrophic, you just wanted to be alone with him and his attention, yet you were to afraid to ask for it.

but gerard saw the signs immediately.

you went all restless, clinging to his side.

hands fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoodie.

he glanced down at you, that pout.

“whats up puppy, hm?” he teased quietly, prodding at your bottom lip gently.

“i- mh.. n-nothing daddy-” you mutter under your breath.

lie.

gerard crouched slowly in front of you, forearms resting on his knees.

“puppy.”

that low calm voice made your throat tighten instantly.

“you gon’ cry? hm?, tell daddy what’s wrong, sat there all fidgety.”

you look down defeatedly at your legs, bouncing softly against the carpet. deciding wether or not you want to tell him what you want.

“whats goin’ on in that pretty little head?”

still, you felt the words get stuck in your throat, desperate for his attention, but you didnt know how to ask.

he leans in closer, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, whispering in a low voice “you want daddy? that it?”

gerard watched your cheeks flush excessively, carefully before reaching out and gently hooking two fingers beneath your chin.

“look at me.”

you obeyed automatically.

“there she is.”

his thumb brushed once across your cheek.

“you know what you do every time something’s wrong?”

tiny shake of your head.

“you sit there and suffer until you’re practically shaking.”

your chest tightened.

“d-dont know how to ask...dont wanna bother daddy.”

gerard’s expression changed instantly at that.

not angry. worse.

deeply unimpressed

“bother me,” he repeated slowly.

you shrank slightly under the stare.

“puppy.”

his hand settled more firmly against your jaw.

“you think needing comfort bothers me?”

you looked uncertain enough to answer the question, gerard exhaled quietly through his nose before standing up and guiding you gently to your feet.

“c’mere.”

you followed immediately. of course you did.

he pulled you through the hallway and into your bedroom, sitting you down on his lap on the edge of the bed.

one hand slid around your waist while the other stroked slowly through your hair.

your entire body softened on instinct.

gerard noticed.

“see that?”

you blinked sleepily at him.

“you relax the second somebody takes care of you.”

heat crept into your face.

gerard’s fingers lightly scratched against your scalp.

“but instead of asking for comfort, my puppy sits there like a dumb lil’ girl or hides in bathrooms.”

you let out a tiny embarrassed sound.

“d-didn’t know how to ask...”

his thumb brushed beneath your eye gently.

“then I’ll teach you.”

your stomach fluttered nervously, gerard tilted his head slightly, watching you carefully.

“when something feels wrong, what do you do?”

“…hide?” you ask, tilting your head to the side

“no.” calm. firm.

“you come to daddy.”

yoour chest tightened slightly.

“and then?” he asks.

hou hesitated.

gerard waited patiently, then quieter: “use your words, puppy.”

the praise in his tone made your brain feel fuzzy despite the embarrassment curling in your stomach.

“i don’t know what to say.”

“yes you do, come on, be a good girl.”

his fingers slid slowly through your hair again.

“you say… ‘I need help.’”

your throat tightened painfully around the words. gerard noticed immediately.

“there she is, good puppy.”

you looked down.

“now, tell me what you really want.”

your fingers twisted anxiously in the front of his shirt. gerard caught both hands gently.

“try for daddy.”

you looked horrified instantly.

“right now?”

“mhm.”

your face burned, gerard waited calmly while you struggled through the embarrassment.

Finally, barely above a whisper:

“…want you to play with me.”

the second the words left your mouth, gerard’s entire expression melted.

“i see, you just wanted daddy’s attention hm?, that right” he asks mockingly as he starts pulling at your knee socks teasingly.

you whine playfully, giggling a little, trying to crawl down the bed, but he grabs onto your ass and pulls you down again. “nuh- uh, where’d you think your going huh?” he taunts

you laugh excitedly as he pulls down at your socks, spanking your ass, causing you to make a muffled squeak into the bedsheets.

“ohh, she likes that, puppy just wants to be spanked.” he teases, pulling down your panties, your cunt glistening.

he gives it a little slap, rubbing at you a little.

with his other hand he undoes his belt calculatedly, the buckle and metal sound making your ears prick up in arousal.

he wraps an arm around your waist, lifting you onto the chaise lounge in the corner of the room, pressing you up against the wall. “tell daddy what you want.”

by now you were a mess, dumbly staring up at him, thighs trembling in uncontainable excitement. “w-want your dick d-daddy.. please!” you whine,

with no further warning, he pushes into you, setting a punishing pace, you scream out.

he pushes two fingers into your mouth, letting you soothe yourself on them, eyes rolling back with each thrust.

“such a good puppy, fucked stupid on daddy’s dick aren’t you?”

you nod dumbly, reaching your hand out for him.

he melts at that, grasping your hand in his, thumb brushing over your knuckle, leaning in to kiss your cheeks, jaw, neck.

he quickens his pace, making you cry, the pleasure all too much.

“ah-! d-daddy! c-can’t-” you whimper out, but he cuts you off.

“yes you can sweetheart, taking it like a good little puppy.” he praises as he feels you nearing the edge.

as he fucks into you with unrelenting speed, wiping your tears away, you start closing your legs around him, crying and moaning in pure pleasure.

“gonna cum puppy? yeah?”

you nod, eyebrows twisted and pouting dumbly still, beautiful, he thought.

you whimper out a broken sob as you start cumming on his cock.

he doesn’t let up, almost on his edge, fucking you through it at a punishing speed, making you whine in overstimulation, he soon reaches his peak.

“feel that sweetheart?” he taunts, fucking his cum into you, giving your cheek a light tap to get you to look at him

“dumb little pup’” he mumbles as he slows down, watching you relax now he’d fucked the energy out of you.

you cling onto him, pulling him in to hug you as you shake around his dick.

he strokes your hair, comforting you. “did such a good job sweetheart, such a good puppy for daddy.” he praises, admiring you.

“gonna pull out now yeah?” he warns softly, but you stop him with a whine, shaking your head in protest. “nuh-uh!”

he chuckles softly, proud that you’d told him what you wanted.

with that, he sat down on the chaise lounge, his dick never leaving you, resting you atop his lap, sinking further onto his cock, warm cum coating you inside.

Stray Kids deserve to get babied, but for some reason, the thought never crossed their members' minds. Find Chans here!

Minho

minho doesn’t complain when he gets hurt. he just goes quieter.

you notice because he sits a little too still on the couch after practice, shoulders slumped forward, eyes fixed on nothing. when you crouch in front of him, he looks up like he didn’t expect to be seen.

“what happened,” you ask.

he shrugs. “nothing.”

you take his hand anyway.

summary: it’s early and your husband’s too tired to do his morning routine

tone: sfw, babying, praise, hubby Higuruma

The morning after an excruciating day at work, Higuruma’s 13th reason why. There wasn’t much time between coming home and him in bed so he woke up disheveled and mindset in disarray.

You had a feeling this was one of those days so you made sure to call up his job and let them know he’d be getting there late in advance so he could have a couple more hours to sort his bearings.

Reluctant to even wake up the man sprawled out in bed, you shook Higuruma gently. His grumble, more like roar, was proof he wouldn’t be in much of a good mood; but you’re determined to prepare him well for work.

5 minutes of hesitant shakes and he’s finally sitting up but staring at the walls of you guys’s place.

“If you don’t wake up now, I won’t have time to buy Shipley’s before dropping you off.” was all you said for Higuruma to slowly arise and allow you to guide him to the restroom like a child.

You flicked on the lights, making his eyes strain and hit the faucet on. Staring at himself through the mirror, you peeked at him as well and saw that he was well due for a shave. Higuruma rubbed his eyes while you shuffled through the cabinets for his shaving cream and razor, failing to find the first item and leading to him having to grab it out the mirror cabinet himself.

Your fingers brushed over his when he handed it over, dozing off almost. “I can do this…” you mumbled closely when in reality you had a very vague idea of how a man shaves his beard. You guided him by his sides and sat him down on the toilet seat anyway and mentally prepared yourself. You stood between his manspread thighs while his head hung back against the wall behind him.

First, you got your hands a little moist and applied the water to his thin beard. You paved it down to make it straighter, easier to glide through with the razor.

Next, Higuruma’s eyes wondered until you began shaking the can well then applying it to the wet beard. He sat up to give you an easier time and gripped the back of your thighs, fingers digging into the squishy skin right below your ass to bring you closer. He was planning to let go but when his fingers started to fondle with them, he refrained and kept them there, simply caressing your legs up and down.

His actions made you strangely more confident. So you wore a brave face and continued.

Finally, it was time for the part that potentially tested your wifey skills. If you couldn’t shave your husband’s beard on a day he wasn’t capable, you’d be an imposter of a wife, you thought.

You pressed the cold, metal italic against his jawline, starting near his earlobe, then slowly glided the object down with ease and gathered the small hairs doing so.

You commenced a silent cheer but was more aghast with how smooth you could shave it all off. “Look, Higuruma; I’m doing it!” You whispered as loud as you could since he was still in a daze.

While you were finishing up, Higuruma was pretty much sober by now, and awake. His narrow eyes looked up at you fondly knowing you were doing all this out of your own free will and it brought a small smirk to his lips. Yes, as his wife, it wasn’t surprising that you were taking care of him, especially since occasions like this occurred a little less rarely.

Looking down at the man, he looked a little more like a kid right now, looking up to his mother in enamor. “What?” You asked, head tilted.

He signed knowing how little you knew of his love for you. “I’m so proud of you. As my wife, I’m glad you chose me to take care of.” He boasted earnestly despite him being the one that proposed to you. “What do you mean?” your question arose.

“All the trouble I cause, the complaining I do, you could call me a child and I wouldn’t object.” he paused to let out a long yawn. “I’m sure you had many options. Many men in line behind—or even ahead of me; but I’m the one you deal with instead. Thank you.” and he meant all that he said while having his beard half shaved and eyes heavy. Little did he know was that he was always your only option.

Like I’m talking pinched cheeks, hair ruffling, picking him up under his armpits like a cat, cooing, excessive gifts (but since they are all old as shit as well as literal gods it’s stuff like solid gold bars, little wooden toys, ceremonial daggers and a goat that one time).

It happens both when he’s Billy Batson and when he’s Captain Marvel.