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charliemwrites · 5 months

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Woo woo woo snarf

Content: Privacy Invasion, Voyeurism, Possessive Behavior, Non-Con Touching, Dirty Talk

Things have been… wrong around the house. It’s been a slow escalation, a proverbial boiling of the frog. Glasses in the dish washer when you thought you left them in the sink. Blankets you left in a heap neatly folded. Food missing from the fridge and misplaced laundry.

Things you could write off as forgetfulness, as thoughtless habits borne of living alone for so long.

That is… until the t-shirt. It’s very clearly a man’s. Just… a white undershirt. But it’s not your size and smells unfamiliar even after a wash with your own clothes - like cologne or aftershave. Masculine.

Until the boot prints in the snow outside your house, still just visible even after Johnny unknowingly bounds through it.

Your mind scrambles to excuse it.

The t-shirt could be your ex’s. You did just pull out the winter gear; it could be left over from last year, something you didn’t manage to weed out. (Even if it smells nothing like your ex. Smells…. better.)

And you’re not far from some pretty popular hiking trails. Hikers sometimes pass through your yard. (Thought they never come that close to the house…. especially not since you got Johnny)

Johnny’s the only reason you haven’t gone full paranoid. He’s so protective, you can’t imagine anyone getting close to, never mind in, the house without him making a huge, bloody fuss.

Probably just cabin fever, you tell yourself. You need to go out more. Reach out to the friends you don’t see enough.

Johnny seems restless the first time you start dressing for a night out. You soothe him with a big hug.

“I’m just going to see Sarah and Mel. You like them, baby.” His ears perk, head tilting at the familiar names. You smile and press a kiss to the very top of his nose. “Next time I’ll have them come see you.”

When you come home, he’s torn up your favorite “date night” dress. You groan and scold him, but still allow him to plaster himself to your side when you climb into bed.

The next time you go out with them, you see a semi-familiar face in the little low-key bar. Soap. Can’t believe you remember his name months later, but then again he’s difficult to forget. Seared into your mind like a warning and a temptation. End up staring at him a little too hard, shocked to see him in the bar you and your friends have picked.

When he catches you looking, he grins like you’re an old friend, tips his head and his beer with a wink. Your friends notice, encourage you to say hi. But you wave them off, blushing, and they understand your introversion enough not to push.

He still manages to corner you when you go to the restroom. (Alone, for fucks sake. You should know better). All you see is a shadow in the hall, backlit by the bar. When you shift closer to the wall to let them pass, they turn and nearly pin you.

“Fancy seein’ you again,” a deep Scottish brogue rumbles. Too close to your ear; the bar music isn’t nearly loud enough to excuse it. “Out with your sister again?”

It takes you a second to recover, a bit shocked that he really does remember you. And far, far too aware of how close he’s standing, the heat of his body seeping into you.

“A couple friends, actually.”

“Still no boyfriend, eh? That pup o’ yours still a maneater like his owner?”

Your mouth drops open, offended and befuddled in equal measures.

“Wha— well, yes, he is. Not that it’s any of your business.”

He chuckles, eyes twinkling in the shadows. Amused and just a touch condescending. Your face floods with heat as he braces his arm on the wall above your head. He smells good, too good. Familiar?

“Prefer pussy m’self,” he says, “but most animals love me. Bet I could win you both over.”

You make an audible “agh!” noise, embarrassed by the crassness.

“Who says that?!” you protest.

He keeps talking, like you’ve said nothing at all.

“Promise I’d get your kitty purrin’ nice and loud if I pet ‘er,” he says, voice low and rough. “Play with ‘er all sweet like. Might even give ‘er a little kiss…”

The alcohol and having your friends nearby makes you brave.

“Not on your life.”

Again, he chuckles, fingers of his other hand skimming your side.

“Never say never, hen.”

You bite back a telling gasp. God it’s been way too long if you’re getting keyed up by this creep barely touching you.

It’s only because he’s sinfully hot and your pussy is a shallow bitch, you tell yourself.

“My friends are missing me,” you say, trying to extricate yourself.

He hums, steps closer before you can wriggle away, nearly pancaking you to the wall.

“I’m missing you.”

“You don’t know me enough to miss me,” you snort and push against his chest. He’s thick. Firm with conditioned muscle, broader than you realized in the dim - nearly dark - hall by the bathroom. If he didn’t want to move, you couldn’t make him.

But he finally relents, sidling a step back.

“Give me a chance to? Here.”

You don’t know where he gets a pen from, and he moves far too fast for you to stop before he’s tugging your shirt aside. You don’t know where he got a marker from but you feel the rough drag of it across your collarbone, the sting of it in your nose.

“Call me sometime and I’ll make good on my offer.”

He caps the pen, drops a kiss on your cheek like it’s his right, and swagger off - presumably to the restroom.

You scurry back your table, careful to hide whatever he wrote on your skin. It feels like it burns for the rest of the night until you get home.

Johnny greets you at the door with a huge canine smile. Again, focusing on all the spots where soap touched you. Unlike his usual reaction to the scent of unfamiliar men lingering on you, Johnny’s tail wags. You huff.

“Don’t you dare prove him right,” you huff, sidestepping your overgrown teddy bear to go to the bathroom. Your tug your shirt aside and stare at the phone number scrawled across your skin. There’s even a cheeky little heart at the end.

Johnny’s followed you, per usual, and you meet his eyes seriously.

“I know I told you that you’re only allowed to bite my ex….. but I might make an exception for a little nip.”

Johnny tilts his head as you begin stripping down, grumbling under your breath.

“Men like him shouldn’t be allowed to know how attractive they are. It’s fucking criminal.”

You start up the shower, about to step in, only for Johnny to start whining and crying. So loud and raucous that you almost think he’s been injured somehow. But no, he just staring up at you mournfully, ears back and tail down.

“Big baby,” you mock-scold, “what’s the matter, huh? You need me to keep you company while you potty?”

Johnny just keeps whining and crying so you roll your eyes and climb in, ignoring how he goes up in pitch. You scrub at the phone number aggressively, but even then the permanent marker has soaked into your skin and left a stain.

“Mother fucker…” you can barely hear yourself over Johnny. You finish up and whip the curtain open, hands on your hips. It must startle him because he pauses to stare.

“It’s a lot, bud. A lot,” you scold. “Too much, even.”

He subsides with one last grumble and seems to sulk for the rest of the night. Won’t even let himself be bribed with a treat. When you climb into bed with him, he faces away from you (even though he’s still plastered to your side).

“So dramatic,” you sigh affectionately, burying your face in his coat. He smells like pine. “It’s okay, though, big guy. You’re still the only one for me.”

In the morning, you find Soap’s number scrawled on a sticky note. Huh, you must have been a little tipsier than you thought.

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #woof woof Johnny

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mistydeyes · 7 months

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This is my first time doing this!!!!! can you please do 141 with a rich reader! Like she buys them cars,supplies,homes,etc but not in a sugar momma way like “ I’m make money……..and my love language is gift giving” like imagine them walking into her house mansion and is like “this is 10 times bigger than my flat building” and she’s like “oh shush….besides this is your home now” or when she picks them up to go to the pub she pulls up in their dream car and their like “love your car” she like “it’s yours” and throws the key. And when they give her gifts she ADORES them (it’s some purfum she likes) she’s just loves spoiling her baby and they don’t know how handle Being so special! CAN YOU PLEASE MAKE A REACT ON THIS ITS BEEN ROTTING MY MIND

hehe thank you so much for requesting! we love expensive taste and a woman who's love language is gift gifting!!

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summary: When the 141 met you, they had no idea what kind of life you came from. However from extravagant vacations to luxury vehicles, you make sure to treat your man right.

pairing: Taskforce 141 x fem!reader

warnings: swearing

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price

Looking at John, you can tell he enjoys the more expensive taste in things. Holidays are always a joy for you both as you spend your hard-earned salary on practical yet extravagant gifts. For your anniversary, you wanted to impress. Earlier in the year for your birthday, he had gotten you a bottle of Baccarat Rouge 540 and you were over the moon. It had it's own shelf in your home and he always made sure to compliment the rich, sultry scent when you wore it. This inspired you as you dragged John to the bright red building in Grasse. You had spent the last week in the south of France, seeing the sights and enjoying the extravagance of wine and pastries. He had been wondering where you were going as you maneuvered through the streets and eventually walked up the path. "This is the final part of a French tour," you smiled as you entered, "a perfume-making class!" As he chuckled at the idea, you checked yourselves in with the minimal amount of French you knew. "What made you pick this?" he asked as you waited for your perfume instructor. You looked around at the various creations and bottles that glistened in the afternoon sun. "You always talk about wanting to find the perfect scent," you commented, "especially when you have one of your fancy military balls or ceremonies." He nodded as he cozied himself onto the leather couch. "Well looks like this is the perfect place to do so," he smiled, kissing you on the forehead. "Don't worry, I'll make sure to pick an expensive-smelling one for my luxurious husband."

soap

"This can't be right," Johnny mumbled as he arrived at your address. You told him you lived in the English countryside and he expected a cottage fit for a granny. He was not expecting a castle that looked like it stretched various football fields. The exterior was extravagant and he was calculating the price of your marbled columns before you opened the door. "Johnny, a pleasure to have you," you smiled as you let him into the foyer. He took a minute to look at the not one but two staircases you had leading to the upper floor. Furthermore, the interior looked like a smaller version of Versailles. He thought he knew luxury when he saw Price's flat but that was a shoe closet compared to this. "Are you alright?" you questioned, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You live here?" he asked and gasped at the way his voice echoed amongst the mansion. You laughed for a moment before looking back up at him. "Yes, I do," you replied as if it was a silly question, "it's quite nice." He turned back to you with a shocked face. "This is more than nice," he said, gesturing to your extravagant home, "I was not picturing this during the drive." You blushed a little at the realization that this wasn't the typical home he had been accustomed to. "Well do you want a house tour?" you offered and he immediately took the offer, "let's start with the first library." "There's multiple?"

gaz

Kyle looked at his watch as he wondered where you were. "The missus running late?" Price asked as he searched for his car keys. "Probably had a meeting or something," Kyle said, looking back down at his phone, "perks of dating a CEO I guess." Just as Price offered him a ride, a silver Rolls-Royce Spectre came revving in front of the two awe-struck men. "Sorry I'm late boys," you said as you got out, "hope Kyle stayed out of trouble long enough, John." "He's a good one, Y/N," Price replied as he gave you a quick hug. He smiled back at you before waving off and walking over to his own vehicle. "This a new company car?" Kyle asked as he examined the pristine exterior and the practically silent hum of the EV engine. You had a small smile on your face as he tapped the front of the car and looked into the windows. "It's new but definitely not company-issued," you smiled, wrapping your arms around his torso. "Didn't think you needed a new car," he continued and the suspense was killing you. As you opened the car door and sat in the red leather passenger seat, Kyle looked at you dumbfounded. "You want me to drive?" he questioned as he moved the seat back into a comfortable position. "Of course, babes," you said, practically bursting with happiness, "you should drive your own car home." There was a brief moment of mixed screaming and excitement as he realized this was his. Once he was finished (and you stopped laughing), you turned on the seat warmers. "Go ahead," you smiled, "take us home in your new toy."

ghost

Simon was never one to gorge himself on the finer things in life. He would save 80% of his paycheck and spend the rest at the grocer's or off-license. He often would have to hold you back from ordering items for him or buying something at Armani on a whim. "Return it." you could hear Simon say behind you and you sheepishly closed your laptop as you knew you had been caught. "You need new jeans though," you tried to convince him but he shook his head. "I could get a pair of Wranglers for less than £47.50 on sale," he responded and that's how most conversations ended. However, you had spent your time finding him an expensive gift that you knew he would value. "What's this?" Simon asked as you pushed over a small parcel. "I know you don't celebrate your birthday but I got you something," you smiled before sitting down with him on the couch. He shook his head as he ripped open the packaging. Inside was a small box that depicted a pair of sturdy-looking earplugs. "For when you exercise or go on runs," you commented, "they're Beats Fit Pro." He opened up the box and you watched as he adjusted them into his ear. "You know I can just use those wired ones," he said before trying them out. You shook his head as he admired the noise-canceling quality. He was enjoying the gift no matter how much he said it was unnecessary. "Well if you don't like them I can always return them," you joked, reaching your hand across the couch to get them before he pulled it away, "yeah, that's what I thought."

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decojellyfish · 3 months

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New Friend!

Hi, this is my first post! So please be nice, and if you have any constructive criticism, please comment! I hope you like it :)

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Hybrid AU! TF141 Fancy Kitty! Reader x Rescue Dog! Ghost and Rescue Dog! Soap (Feat. a tiny bit of x Owner! Price) Reader acts fem but is only addressed with “you”

SFW ~ Fluff (Tiny bit of angst, if you squint) Warnings: Mentions of death (though, not directly)

───♡───────────── Beginning Your life was everything you could ask for. Always brushed, fed the finest cuisine a kitty could ask for, and wearing the finest items your owner got you. Your favorite was a collar that looked like a pearl necklace, similar to the one your owner wore daily. Your fur smelled like her too, vintage perfume (her favorite from when she was a teenager, though she always talked about how it was hard to come by now in the modern day), and those little strawberry bonbons she always kept in her purse. And you would always have a pretty pink bow tied around the base of your fluffy tail. Resting your head in her lap, her aged hands petting your white fluffy ears or brushing them with this one brush. A beautiful golden brush, with an ivory plaque on the back that had roses, tulips, and violets painted. It was her favorite from when she was a little girl. Life is good, life is paradise.

Until one day, she didn’t get out of bed. You were still curled up in your pink fluffy cat bed, waiting to hear her sweet voice call out your name whilst serving up your borderline gourmet breakfast. After about an hour, your confusion pushed you out of bed and made you go to your owner’s room. She was still sleeping? Maybe she had a rough time sleeping last night and just felt like sleeping in. Yeah, that was it! She was pretty old after all, why wouldn’t she want to sleep in once in a while? So you curled up atop the floral bedsheets, nice and close to your owner, and waited for her to wake up. You knew she would love to wake up to her pretty little kitty all snuggled up because you missed her so much! So you waited. And waited.

And waited.

A few days passed. Wow, this must’ve been the sleepiest old woman you’d have ever seen! She even had visitors and she didn’t even wake up. It was kind of strange though. They were crying as if they were watching one of those sad movies your owner would watch, with you curled up beside her. The day your world came crashing down would be the day these strange people came to your owner’s house. One of them guided you down to the kitchen, proceeding to feed you some random wet food they found on the counter. You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were while you were waiting for your owner to wake up. You hadn’t even noticed the other people carrying your owner’s body out of the house while this one person was playing with you. Jingling your favorite bell toy, calling you a “precious little kitty, so beautiful, yes you are!” the whole time.

That’s when he came into the picture. He came in an hour after these people arrived, it was John Price. Your owner’s son. He had come to visit her a few times, you enjoyed his presence when he was visiting. Price approached you and began to pet your silky, fluffy white hair and fur. “Hey there, pretty thing. How’ve you been holding up?” You didn’t know what he meant by that, but your purrs were all he needed to hear to not fret over you. He figured you were okay and ready to go with him. When he began to guide you out to his car, that was when you realized that he was taking you somewhere! He reassured you that your owner wouldn’t mind having you go on a little trip. You didn’t know you were headed to Price’s own house, all of your belongings in his trunk unbeknownst to you. You, in the present, wouldn’t be mad at Price for taking you home with him and becoming your new owner. No, you wouldn’t mind that at all, John Price was a lovely person! Like his mother. What made you pissed at him was the fact that he never mentioned the two dog hybrids he also had ownership of. That also lived in the house.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Price had told Ghost and Soap, his two rescue dogs, about the new arrival of a new addition to the family. That of which is a cat. Ghost wasn’t excited about the thought of a cat being in the house all day, every day. It annoyed him, he never really liked cats. Soap, on the other hand, was very excited to meet the new kitty. He had been waiting, impatiently, by the door ever since Price had gone off to retrieve the cat hybrid. Once Price had finally returned, Soap was ecstatic. He pounced on the first being that entered the doorway, licking their face all over. That first being was you. You screeched and hissed at the seemingly rabid dog that was coating you in slobber. He was mucking up your hair, too! Once Soap realized that it wasn’t Price, but, the new kitty that Price had brought home, he grew even more elated. Before he could continue any further with his slobber, Price had pulled Soap away from you, giving you time to breathe. Your tail was beyond fluffy now, you were terrified. Your claws were out and almost gripping the welcome mat by the front door. Soap was confused, Ghost’s guard was up, and Price knew in the back of his head that something like this would happen.

It took you a while to settle in, you were still frightened by the dogs and would try to maintain a distance from them. Ghost would happily oblige, avoiding you whenever you were around. Soap, not so much. He ruined his first impression meeting you! He scared you, and that is not what a good dog does. So, he spent all day and night all over you. He would tell you about his day, and ask you about yours, only for you to stay quiet, and then he would continue talking to you. Soap LOVED being around you. Why wouldn’t he? You’re such a pretty kitty, you smelled good, and your fur was so soft and silky! He loved pawing at the little bell attached to your pink ribbon collar. It was so cute! You looked like royalty with it. Ghost, on the other hand, would mumble about how uppity you seemed. Spoiled, bratty. I mean, at some points you did act like that. Whenever Price didn’t get the right food for you, whenever the sun wasn’t shining in the right spot for you to bask in it, or how loud and annoying the boys’ squeaky toys were. You and Ghost would often avoid each other. Whenever you would accidentally brush up against each other in the halls, it would result in you hissing and him growling loudly, baring his teeth. Price would have to step in and separate you two, telling you both to quit it. But back to Soap, who is an absolute lovebug when it comes to you. He would come by and curl up right next to you whenever you were curled up and lying in the sunlight. At first, you would get up and leave to a new spot. But eventually, you gave up and let him curl up as close to you as he wanted to. Through Soap’s constant yapping, you find out that both he and Ghost were survivors of illegal underground dog fighting. They were from different parts of the UK, but they both ended up at the same shelter. That’s how they met Price. Soap would point out all of his scars, telling their backstories, and talking about all the other injuries he went through. He would also compliment you, as well as attempt to pamper you. You had to give him instructions on how your owner used to do it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It smelled of overwhelming masculinity in the house. It was such a drastic change from the old lady perfume and flowers that your old home smelled like. It took you a bit to get adjusted to the lack of floral prints that your new home had. One day, you were especially homesick. Even though you were in your new, permanent, home, you still missed your old home. It was foggy out that day, the weather not helping your mood at all. You were curled up on the couch as you looked out the window with sad eyes, your fluffy tail flicking around as you were deep in thought. You hadn’t even noticed Soap and Ghost staring at you, they could smell the sadness radiating off of you. It was a slightly pungent smell compared to your usual scent that smelled of fresh flowers. It made Soap whine and quickly approach you. He curled up close to you, trying to soothe you, bring you out of your sad thoughts, with his warmth. It did help, it brought you out of your deep thoughts. But you still smelled of sadness. You would curl up against him, letting out a tiny sigh.

Then Ghost curled up next to you.

That was a first. He had always avoided you, per your request. But you didn’t mind this sudden act of affection. It was nice, you got a better chance to identify the keynotes of his scent. With Soap being around you so much, you had no choice but the memorize what he smelled like. Musk, timber wood, vanilla, and tiny hints of coconut. Part of that was because of the shampoo that Price would wash him in during bath nights. You had always kind of known what Price smelled like, what with him visiting your old owner every so often. Dirt, but not in a dirty way, an earthy way, smokey, toffee, and sandalwood. Cozy. You eventually came around and stopped being so mad at him for not telling you about his dog hybrids. Especially since you started to like them now. Kind of. Ghost, he always kind of smelled smokey. But not like Price. Price smelled smokey in a round way. Ghost smelled smokey in a sharper way. Kind of a difference between cigars and pungent cigarettes. But now that he was sitting so close to you, to wipe that sad look off your face, you could get a more clear reading of his scent. Smokey, yet bitter, musk, cedar wood, and lavender. That also must have been because of the shampoo. But they must have two separate shampoos that they picked individually. You had your own that Price had brought from your old home. It smelled of cherry blossoms.

Fast forward a few minutes, now Soap is teaching Ghost how you like your hair brushed with your favorite brush. And you’re crying and venting about how much you miss your owner and your old home.

This caused Soap to have a lightbulb moment.

A few days later, you’re napping in your cat bed when you suddenly start to wake up to a familiar scent. Rose petals, peonies, orchids, and lotuses. Flowers. You wondered if you had suddenly returned back to her old home. You open your eyes. Nope, you’re still at Price’s. But the scent is coming from a little candle, in an ivory candle holder (a favorite of your old owner), sitting on the dining room table. Price noticed you as he finished serving breakfast for you and the boys. He explained that he “found it at the shop and thought you would like it.” Actually, Soap had begged him to find a way to cheer you up because it hurt him so badly to see you cry like that! Ghost was standing by Soap, not moving a single bit. But Price could see in his eyes that he was silently agreeing. He didn’t want to admit it, but he cared for the little cat hybrid. So Price had gone out and looked for his mother’s favorite candle. He knew the one. Now, back to the present, you’re looking at the candle with wide eyes. You’re looking at Price, then the boys, then the candle, then Price again. You feel your eyes start to sting. Tears abruptly well up in your eyes. All of the men are now worried. Did they mess up? Did Price pick the wrong candle? But he was sure of it! Soap quickly got up and hugged you tightly, asking why you were crying. Ghost even got up and walked over to you, just as worried but he wouldn’t show it. You eventually explain to them through tears and hiccups, that you love all they’ve done to make this new place feel like your old home. It makes you so happy that they want to see you happy and comfortable. They’re all relieved, Price gently wiping away your tears with a handkerchief his mother gifted to him when he first went into the military, petting your fluffy ears and stroking your cheek with his thumb.

These men all love you, they would do anything to not see you in pain. And you love them just as much, knowing that they would do anything to protect you. :3

───♡───────────── End

Again, if you have any constructive criticism, please comment below!

Thank you for reading :)

#johnny soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #johnny mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #hybrid!au #hybrid!reader #this is my first post so please be nice to me #I'm so nervous to see how people react to this #please enjoy #task force 141 #tf 141 #john price #price x reader

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vyorei · 6 months

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I found a post about Palestine and olive trees about a week ago, this reminded me of it so I'm gonna post the text below.

This was posted on Facebook by Dima Seelawi on the 29th of October 2018, it just happened to find its way to my newsfeed:

"When I was young, I never really understood my parents insistence to only use olive oil imported from Palestine. It took a long time and a great distance in a process that was neither cheap nor convenient. The oil came in old beat-up containers that did not look appealing to me at all. In my head, if they wanted to support distant family back home, they could just send them money and save us and them a big hassle. We could just use the nice looking olive oil containers from the nearby store. Yet, this was never an option in our household. The only olive oil we used at home was from Palestine.

As I grew up and started a student part-time job, I worked with olive oil a little. I knew all about olive oil imported from Spain, Italy, and other countries. I knew which ones were better and more expensive. I also learned to tell, based on the pungent taste, which ones were extra virgin. I was tempted to use my employee discount to bring home one of the fancy bottles and use at our kitchen. I could not get myself to do it, and I did not exactly know why. I felt like it would be disrespectful to my parents even if it didn’t make sense to me. It did not feel right. It was not an option.

After living in Palestine for a year during the olive picking season, something changed. The olive picking season in Palestine is holy.

Palestinians relate to the weather based on how it would benefit or harm the olives. There is well-known unspoken rule about treating olive trees with respect. There is a day off from work just to pick olives. On public transportation, it is not unusual to hear someone on the phone telling their friend to stop by for their share of this year’s olive oil stored in what used to be a Coca-Cola or a liquor bottle. A driver will stop in the middle of the way to give his brother- in- law a jar of olives that are so close to one another that they start to crush showing their insides.

In Nablus, the owner of the Nabulsi soap factory takes pride in how picky he is about getting his olive oil. He insists on filling a cup to let me smell how authentic it is and smirks as he sees my diasporic facial expressions transform in appreciation of its strong smell running through all of my brain cells.

I started noticing how olive oil is an essential part of so many dishes. “Palestinians drink more olive oil than water” I would jokingly say and they would laugh in agreement. Olive oil is truly an everyday ritual.

They fantasize about its color when it’s fresh and remind me that it starts to change as it reacts with oxygen over time. They dip their bread into olive oil, just like that and without any additions, and enjoy it more than the sweetest of all foods. I can guarantee that every lunch invitation (عزومة) I received during the olive-picking season was a chance for my hosts to share their olive oil using Msakhan (a traditional Palestinian dish).

I now have a deeper understanding of the psychology behind the burning of olive trees by Israeli settlers and why farmers moan at the scene as if they lost a loved one.

Wherever you are, if it’s accessible to you, make sure your olive oil is Palestinian. Your ancestors would want that."

And this picture was attached:

Link to the article in the header image:

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five-miles-over · 10 months

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For All Time, It Was Always You

Chapter 3 - Happy to Keep His Dinner Warm

A/N: It's a series now! Thank you all for your positive comments, your likes, and reblogs. Click here for Chapter 2: Mrs. Laufeyson

(Pairing: Loki x Wife!Reader)

Summary: The best way to a man's - or a god's - heart is through his stomach.

Warnings: Fluff, silliness, an infomercial that's not meant to offend anyone.

You turned the knob of the television in the living room, letting a soap opera play in the background while you washed the dishes - including those from Loki's breakfast - and preheated the oven. Then, following the cookbook's instructions, you prepared the batter for an angel food cake, a dessert you were hoping to dress with whipped cream and strawberries for your - yes, you were really saying it - husband. If there were two jars of strawberry jam, maybe it meant that Loki really liked strawberries. Or there was some kind of two-for-one deal at the store.

While the cake baked in the oven, you took a shower after tinkering with the hot and cold faucets. With a towel wrapped around yourself when you were done, you shuffled your feet into the master bedroom. You opened one of the large wardrobes opposite from the window, finding an entire rack of crisp white shirts and brown dress pants - probably Loki's uniform for work - along with tuxedos and pajamas. You didn't think about opening the drawers beneath the racks of clothing, assuming they would be filled with your husband's underwear and socks.

Speaking of underwear…where was the laundry room? You made a mental note to find it at some point, so you could use the washing machine. Also, did Loki wear boxers or briefs? Biting your lip, you brought yourself to imagine which of the two it could be, thinking of the way you checked out his ass that morning while making breakfast. How nicely the fabric hugged the curve of his rear. It definitely had to be boxers, surely briefs would've left some kind of outline. Or…what if he wasn't wearing any underneath those pants? You bit the inside of your cheek and crossed your arms, still damp from your shower.

The smell of vanilla wafting into the bedroom silently reminded you that the cake was done, like an invisible tap on the shoulder. You snapped out of your reverie, looked through the other wardrobe and found a flattering midi-dress to wear over a lacy bra and a girdle. Now dressed, you took the golden-brown, light to the touch, warm cake out of the oven and let it cool. Meanwhile, the soap opera on the living room television was now replaced by a vague infomercial for a fancy kitchen gadget made by Stark Industries. You didn't know what it really did, or how much it cost, but it was apparently 'life-changing', 'ground-breaking', and only made by Stark Industries.

It didn't take long for you to find a few other gadgets laying around the house. Inside a closet within the hallway was a vacuum cleaner, which you used to clean the living room and the other carpets in the house. Not that there was anything much to clean, considering the house seemed spotless to begin with. While you moved the vacuum around the welcome mat, you looked over your shoulder at a new infomercial.

"Are you tired of playing the dating game over and over again? Exasperated by the lack of paramours unwilling to cuddle with you? Does the loneliness of the night bring you sadness? Tired of all the nights alone with you and your fingertips? Do you wish for an attractive sweetheart you can flaunt to your friends and family, and to all the nosy strangers who ask why you're still single? Introducing the newest product from Cambridge Technologies, TOM H."

The spokesperson gestured to a six-foot tall male with perfectly combed dark-blonde hair with a slight curl, wearing a navy blue blazer and a matching set of trousers with a light blue dress shirt underneath. "Look at him," the spokesperson beamed. "His cheekbones are so sharp, I could grate cheese on them!"

The male smirked. "I love cheese, 'specially when paired with wine. And the company of a lovely lady."

Wait…this man looked familiar. Where had you seen him before? Squinting, you turned off the vacuum and began to fluff the pillows on the couch, keeping your eyes on the screen.With a fake laugh, the spokesperson turned to face the camera.

"Short for Technologically-Optimized Male Humanoid, TOM H. is equipped with the ability to speak seven different languages, including French, Spanish, and even Latin. He can open doors for your, pull your chair out, hold an umbrella for you when it rains, and even apologize for calling you beautiful! That's right, ladies, he's got every single piece of etiquette mastered at the back of his hand. No more worrying about guys who laugh at misogynistic jokes, or guys who treat you like a piece of meat. Our new android will make sure you spend everyday feeling like a princess!"

You continued to reluctantly clean the living room while the spokesperson continued to brag about the abilities of this supposedly life-like android. How many other people were watching this advertisement right now? And were any of them actually considering buying this android? Moreover, how would one actually take care of an android? Did it require charging like any other electronic device? Did it pretend to sleep at night?

On-screen, the spokesperson showed the android relaxing in bed, wearing nothing but boxers, and droned on and on about the android's ability to give warm cuddles and recite poetry at the drop of a hat. Then the scene changed to the android standing in the kitchen, wearing a black apron over a three-piece suit and preparing some kind of pasta dish. The android gave a cheeky smile to the camera, as if it was perfectly aware that somewhere, some touch-starved single person would be watching and immediately reach for their checkbook.

"Call the number on-screen," the spokesperson announced, "and for just four separate payments of $599.99, TOM H. can be all yours. And for a bonus payment of $49.99, we'll throw in a blue jumper!

Please note that all clothes are sold separately, including the boxers. Cambridge Technologies is not responsible for the android crying. The android may experience urges to play with puppies and babies, do kind deeds for strangers, or dance in public. For optimal performance, we ask that you refrain from raising your voice in the presence of the android, and to feed the android tea every six hours."

"Oh my god." You gulped, standing still for a moment. The commercial finally ended with an image of the android giving the spokesperson a shoulder massage, and smiling at the camera. You switched the channel, and put away the vacuum, shuddering at what you'd just seen.

The next thing to worry about was the spaghetti bolognese, another recipe from the cookbook you chose for tonight Luckily there was a pack of ground mince in the fridge, otherwise you would've had to either rush to the supermarket - wherever that was - or pick something else to make for Loki's dinner. With the cookbook propped open on the kitchen countertop, you flipped to the recipe and did your best to follow every instruction. Chop the carrots, the celery, the onion, and the bacon, it said…Then, heat the pot with a generous amount of butter, add bacon…Put the rest of the vegetables in the pan, along with the mince. While that cooked in the pan, you opened a can of tomatoes from the pantry, poured it into the pan, causing it to sizzle loud enough to overpower the television for a moment. The final ingredients to add were dried herbs, a splash of red wine, and for some reason…milk.

After moving the cake to the center of the table, you stirred the pot with the Bolognese mixture until the alcohol from the wine boiled off. The final step, according to the cookbook, was to place the entire pot in the oven at one-hundred eighty degrees Celsius for…well, enough time to stew everything.

You closed the oven door with a sigh, wiping a trace of sweat on your forehead before taking a box of spaghetti out of one of the cupboards. Yes it was true that you'd only known Loki for a few hours, not even a whole day. And yet, you found yourself wishing and hoping that he would be pleased when he walked into the door. That when he opened the door, the smell of dinner would entice him to the table, and the sight of you would entice him into your arms. Maybe it was because of the way he looked at you this morning, with affection in his eyes as if you were the most priceless thing in his life.

As the noodles cooked in a pot of boiling water, you dressed the cake with whipped cream and chopped-up strawberries, and then chopped cucumbers, tomatoes, olives, and red onions for a side dish. Within about thirty minutes, you had a pot of cooked spaghetti dressed in bolognese sauce, a lettuce-free salad dressed with olive oil and red wine vinegar, and an angel food cake reserved for dessert. And just as a finishing touch, you set the dining table for two and lit a few candles.

"Darling, we're home! Something smells amazing." At the doorway with a large grin on his face was Loki, standing in his work clothes with his dark curls slightly messy, dirt caking his fingertips,…and a black kitten in his arms. Tagging: @anukulee @smolvenger @pineappleandro @lotsoflokilove23 @talklokitome @rumin8ting @12-pm-510 @painedfever @iambetterthanbefore @princess-ofthe-pages @thenotoriouserg @lokischambermaid @lokiismineforever @lokidbadguy @lokisgoodgirl @lokisprettygirl22 @holdmytesseract @wheredafandomat @wolfsmom1 @lovelysizzlingbluebird @evelyn-kingsley @muddyorbsblr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @icytrickster17 @thatdummy-girl @fantasyfan4life @huntress-artemiss @itsdoni @gruftiela @ellooo0ooo @ireallyneedtherapy @jennyggggrrr @turniptitaness

#loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki #loki odinson #loki god of mischief #loki fanfic #tva loki #mcu loki #loki x y/n #loki x reader fic #loki x reader fluff #loki imagine #loki imagines

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raine-degenerate · 6 months

Text

Soap (mw2) head cannons

I love this silly man... Unhealthy amount..

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Was attacked by a dog when he was younger, nothing too crazy but forever changes his views.

He always wanted to join the military, from a young age that was his goal

Doesn't have a clue how to cook. He took home ec. In highschool and almost burnt it down.

Loves hunting. If he's home during hunting season he is out in his blinds.

uses very nice soap (hear me out here!) Like he isn't using Irish spring. Price bought him a really expensive soap as a joke but now soap is hooked.

Definitely used nice cologne, he has a collection for any occasion. Mainly woody and pine scents.

Smokes cigs. Doesn't matter what brand. But he hates the smell of them so after he's done he'll brush his teeth and spray cologne.

Pillow fanatic, when this man is home he is wrapped up in several blankets and pillows.

Beer drinker, will drink cocktails on fancy occasions but if he's just shooting the shit, it's beer.

He treats his partner like God/goddess. Love language is physical touch and words of affirmation.

Will take his partner on a shopping spree and just happily follow you around, just enjoying their company.

His wardrobe is full of t-shirts, sleeveless shirts and blue jeans. He can dress up but rarely.

Animals aren't his favorite. If his partner has some he'll be civil. Prefers smaller animals.

Personal hygiene is a must, he has lotions, creams, gel. His bathroom cabinet is packed.

Loves late night walks, any chance to look up at the stars or just get some fresh air.

Works out every morning. If he lives with his partner he will wake up before they do just to work out and get a shower in.

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heyyyy~ thank you for reading! My requests are open ! Also please give me crit! I love any way to improve my writing since I'm just getting back into it. Thank youuu <3

#cod x reader #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #cod mw2 #soap cod #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader

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sunmoonandeddie · 2 years

Text

here's the thing.

eddie doesn't stink.

i keep seeing a bunch of y'all headcanoning that he's a Stinky Boy™ but that is simply not the case. he already gets so much shit about being Weird and Different and Freaky that there's No Way he's going to give them anything else they can use against him. (i saw a post circulating around somewhere about how he goes out of his way to Not Stink because of how poor people are stigmatized as Stinking and 100% i agree)

he showers twice a day sometimes, sneaking into the boys' locker room at school to wash off with some of the soap he keeps hidden in one of the unused lockers. (it also helps keep the water bill down) so when he gets a girlfriend, he starts going Extra Hard to make sure he never stinks. and, of course, girlfriend notices how much he cares about Being Clean and Smelling Nice and for his birthday, she buys him a Fancy Bottle of Cologne (i'm thinking obsession for men by calvin klein or antaeus by chanel) and he just. can't believe it. he knew she had to save up a Lot for it and "baby, how many shifts did you have to work to get this you didn't have to do that for me" and, "i know i didn't, eds, but i wanted to" and he's just so in love.

and he definitely starts off overspraying because he's so excited.

girlfriend teaches him that he really only needs his pulse points plus a spray on his shirt.

she also has a bottle of the same cologne she bought for him so she can spray her pillows and imagine he's there with her because she misses him so much even though she just saw him twenty minutes before when he dropped her off at home.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader

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stupid-sloot-headcanons · 7 months

Note

I stopped watching BNHA at Season 5 so everything I know about post gremlin Tomura is from the wikia lol so apologies if things don’t line up with canon

Anyways, I like to imagine that after becoming the leader of the paranormal liberation front and getting more money/resources, tomura uses it to dote on and spoil his darling. Gone are the days where they had to sleep with a scratchy, suspiciously stained blanket. He’s getting them the highest quality sheets and duvets, and they just look so cute and sweet spread out on it. A darling who has become docile due to the time spent with them (and perhaps was already quite timid and submissive) is getting adorned in clothing that Tomura thinks best represents them: anything soft and pure.

If the newest league hideout is hooked up with a nice bath tub in his and darling’s room (referring to anything he owns as also darling’s makes him feel all mushy inside) then he likes to soak in it with his darling after a stressful day. He’s stockpiled a bunch of bath bombs, nice smelling soap, and candles so that darling could have a spa day even when he’s not around. He doesn’t think that money is the key to darling’s heart, the path to having them love him as full heartedly as he does to them, but he likes being able to have the money to spoil them. After all, they deserve everything and more after what he put them through.

Of course he is still horny as hell for them and likes to invest in fancy lingerie for them to wear. A post gremlin Tomura is too mature for the days he’d force them into a cheap, lewd cosplay. They are getting dolled up like the absolute gift they are.

Don't apologize babe you honestly nailed mature Tomura lmao

He feels genuine guilt for what he put them through before realizing what they really meant to him and developing like...actual remorse lol. He'd spoil them and be extra gentle and more aware of their boundaries from now on; ie. he'll kiss them and if he feels them try to pull back he'll either let them or insist that he just wants to be with them like this for a little bit.

And he isn't at all hesitant to say that he loves Darling now. He says it all the damn time, both in and out of the bedroom. He means it every time and wants to show it in any way he can. Sometimes he knows deep down that he can never truly make up for what he did to Darling, and that if he really wants to prove he loves them he'd let them be free. But he's lost everyone else he cares about except for Darling and the League--losing them is the one thing he can't do.

He also hates scaring them now, when before it made him more secure they wouldn't try to escape (and also turned him on). If he has to hurt or kill someone, he has Darling leave the room first so they don't have to see it.

#.bnha #.tomura #yandere tomura #yandere bnha #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon #thots

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madameminor · 1 year

Text

In More Ways Than One, Special Ch. - Rex x F!Reader - Birthday

Summary: It's your birthday on Coruscant, and the Bad Batch gave you the best present ever.

Tags: Smutty mcsmutterson. 18+. NSFW. "Basically, all the good stuff."

Warnings: Oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected, mentions of polyamory

Notes: So today is myyy birthday!! I've had this idea for quite awhile, and last week realized I wanted it to be my bday present to all of you. I wrote in the time I had, probably not as packed full of juice as I wanted it to, but I like it the way it is :) Enjoy, fellow clone hos. @dumfanting, @kaminocasey, as always, thank you for reading and ramping me up!

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Its your birthday and you’re

LEAVE!!!!

IT'S AMAZING!!!!! Its rare and unheard of and a one in a MILLION chance, but somehow the stars have aligned so that you get to celebrate your birthday on solid ground, away from the war.

Your parents, friends, extended family - everyone has been so happy that you’re alive to see another year, they pooled their credits and got you a luxury suite at one of the upper level hotels in Coruscant for the night. Oh, you feel like the Queen you are in here - a real bed, with SILKY sheets, a sitting area, a walk in shower, a massive bathtub- uh. Its EVERYTHING.

And as much as you love your boys - its a night WITHOUT THEM!!!

You had been very clear - you cared about them all very much, and they were NOT coming with you to this nice place. Tech would have made a mess everywhere, Echo would have felt uncomfortable in the lavish apartments, Wrecker would break everything and smell up the place, Crosshair would find some way to put a dampner on it, and Hunter would probably be affected by all of the scents and soap bubbles you planned to have in the air. So, while that meant you were sans snuggle buddy on your birthday, that was OK for the trade.

Some of the boys in the 501st wouldn’t be this way. One in particular was used to the finery, would respect it, would enjoy it… what if he was here with you?

Mmm, but no. That ship had launched long ago. And you had your men. You were happy, and this one occasion wasn’t ruined just because you were alone.

You starfish on the mattress and take a deep breath. Ooooo sleep was going to be so good. Strange, since you would be alone, but soooooo goooood. You order room service and start up the bath. Oh my, this oil scent was called “Goddess”...

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Collectively, Clone Force 99 has several strengths - charisma, uniqueness, nerve, talent, power, courage, tenacity, the list went on.

Buying gifts was not one of them.

“OOOOO!" Wrecker lightly hits their table by their favorite noodle stand. "Wha’ about flowers? Women like those, right?”

Tech keeps looking down at the table, chin in one hand as he thinks. “Potentially. But which are her favorites? And where would she put them? They would not last long in the Marauder with our lifestyle.”

Wrecker rubs the back of his neck. “Well then, what about, like, a necklace? Something real fancy she can wear for us?”

Crosshair rolls his eyes. “Oh yes, and with what credits would we buy her something like that?”

“UH…then, a book?”

Echo shakes his head. “For her birthday? We get those for her anyway. This needs to be special.”

“Maybe one of those, uh… special toys? Like the one Crosshair got?”

They’re all quiet, thinking about it, glancing at Tech.

“It is possible… though I would need time to plan, gain measurements and components - perhaps if I’d started a week ago-”

“Discussing work during shore leave, huh?” Commander Cody chuckles as they all glance to where he's standing just behind Tech. “Can’t say I blame you. Hard to get away from the war anywhere.”

“Commander." Hunter indicates a vacant spot for him to join them. "Didn’t know you were on Coruscant.”

"The Generals were called back for something important, so I’ve got a night or two in town." He says, sitting himself down. "Figured it was a good night to get out to 79s, loosen up, have a bit of fun." He glances around, making eye contact with everyone in greeting. "No Queen of yours tonight?"

"No. Today is her birthday, and her friends and family have gifted her some peace and quiet. Something we do not seem able to match."

Cody chuckles. "Ah, I'll have to send her a com. Pity though. Rex always brightens up a bit when she’s around- he could use a bit of happiness right now."

Echo glanced at his brothers, then back to the commander. "Is something wrong with Captain Rex?"

Cody sighs, shaking his head. "Nothing uncommon. The war is… its getting to him. Hasn’t had much to look forward to, I think. Since the Commander left, they’ve all been uneasy. And he hasn’t ever really sought out... female company before besides your medic. Wish he had someone planet side he could blow off some steam with, but... just not his thing, i guess."

Echo puts his hand on Cody's shoulder. "He’ll be alright, Commander. If there’s anything I, anything WE can do, just say the word."

Cody grins. "Thanks, Ech, I’ll do that. Ah," he looks towards the main thoroughfare "there he is." He stands, tucking his bucket under his arm. "How about you boys join us? Perhaps he just needs a night of 99’s brand of trouble.” He heads off with a nod, making for the Captain of the 501st.

As soon as he's out of ear shot, Hunter turns back to his squad with a grin. Tech nods with a small smile. Realization dawns in Echo's eyes, and he nods carefully. They all look to Crosshair, his arms crossed, mouth pursed in a terse line.

"No."

Echo runs his hand down his face. "Come on Crosshair-"

"No." Cross hisses. "No regs."

"I'M a reg-"

Tech cocks his head to the side. "Are you resistant because he has punched you in the face before?"

Echo's eyebrows shoot up as he looks to the sullen sniper. "He punched you in the face? Why? What did you do?!"

"………" Crosshair glares at Echo out of the side of his eyes, then leans forward, elbows sitting on the table, glaring at Hunter.

"Alright. One night." He glowers.

Hunter nods, barely hiding his amusement. "We’re agreed then? Her Majesty’s birthday present?"

“Yeah!" Wrecker says, punching his fist in the air before pausing to look at his brothers. "Wait, what’s happening?”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rex must be crazy. He must be CRAZY. What the hell was he doing, walking up these steps to this hotel, heading to the elevator, making for the door that SHE waited behind. The woman he’d dreamed of since she’d signed on with Kix. Fuck, was this really happening? They’d told him it was ok, that this was what she wanted, but she- did she really? Were they playing a prank on him? If it was, it was in poor kriffing taste and he would court marshall the fucking lot of them for getting his hopes up like this.

He has to talk himself into walking up to the door several times. Twice he starts and then backs off again. Blast, he can head into uncharted enemy territory with a deep breath and a gun, but into a…a potential romantic encounter?

He steels himself and knocks on the door before he can think about it.

Your voice, low and relaxed, comes from within. "Just a moment please." He feels his anxiety mount- and then the door opens before him.

You're standing there in a white silk bathrobe, tied loosely, and you are most definitely naked under it. His heart starts racing, his cock jumping to attention, pushing against his cod piece. He can see your curves through fabric outline, your cleavage glistening from the oil you're covered yourself with. The smell from your room is clean, perfumed, enticing, like a pleasure den inviting him in. He swallows a groan. A kriffing angel. Just WAITING for him. Deep breath. One step at a time.

"Captain!" You smile. You seem to realize what you're (not) wearing and cross your arms over your chest. Your smile turns bashful, but remains joyful. "What- how did you know- to what do I owe the pleasure?"

He swallows. Don't kriff this up, Rex. "U-Um. Good evening, your majesty. And Happy Birthday. I uh, well," he holds up a small bag, "I brought you some dessert, and a, uh… a note. From your squad." He hands both to you. You smile a thank you and place the bag on the table beside the door.

You look at him, amused and suspicious, as you take the note and start to read it over. He watches your eyes go wide as they dart across the page, your hand jumping to cover your mouth in surprise. You glance up at him bashfully, voice hushed. "Do you...um... know what this says?"

"Yes." His own voice is barely audible, searching for your answer in your eyes, in your body language. He'll leave in an instant if he sees any hesitance- but instead you step to the side, granting him entry, though reading the note again.

He steps inside - and he loses. He finally loses the long battle with himself about your role in his life. His eyes find yours as he closes the door, pushing you up against it, his arm leaning on the steel over your head.

One last chance. "Tell me if this isn’t what you want, a-and I’ll walk away-"

He doesn’t get to finish, you’ve pulled him into a kiss that lights his veins on fire. You both groan, tongues entwining, impatient to make up for lost time. You jump up and he catches you, legs wrapping around his waist. Blessed stars, they were right. You moan against his lips as his cod piece presses against your core, giving him the perfect chance to bury his face in your neck, kissing and biting at the exposed skin.

"Reeeex."

His hips rock at his name on your lips. How many times had he dreamed of you moaning for him? Too many. Far too many.

"If this is a dream, please don’t let me wake up." He murmurs into your neck, completely caught in your scent, in your feel. He rocks against you again, your arms encircling around his neck as you whisper in his ear.

"Rex… I can’t wait, i’ve waited so long already, please don't make me wait."

Kriff, you'd been needing him too. "Here?"

"Yes. "

He reaches under your thigh to undo his codpiece, lips finding yours again, tongue slipping in to ravage you in his turn on. Karking hell, up against the door, so needy for him, his little medic, wanting him so badly-

He lines himself up and pushes in, and oh your MOAN. He can feel you stretching around him, but you’re rocking your hips, taking him further than he intended. You’re so wet that he slides in like he belonged there, bottoming out like you’d already been fucking for hours.

"Kriff, like you’ve been waiting for me."

He can’t be away from your lips for long. He can’t stop himself from biting your lower lip, his hips gyrating feverishly to fill you up. But its not the angle he wants- its hard to focus here, vertical.

He picks you up off the wall, still sheathed inside you, walks you over to the bed to lay you down. There. Much better. He’s still mostly in his armor, but he can’t stop for a second to take it off, not when you’re right here, when you feel so good. He’s back to your lips, kisses bruising as you pull him closer.

"Yes, Rex, yes."

His moans into your kiss, his thrusts starting slow, but deep. You’re clutching at the back of his armor, doing everything you can to bring him closer in your frenzy, and hes losing his composure. Fuck, he wants more. His groans and thrusts are out of his control, simply needing to reach that ultimate moment of release. He can’t stop now, he’s lost himself to how DEEP you are, how well you take his cock. You’re ruining him for any other woman, he knows it, and he loves it.

He feels you cum, you’re so TIGHT he can feel you coming around him. He groans as your walls squeeze him, sending him closer to his own release.

"Mesh’la- kriff- I’m going to cum. Where-"

Surrendered, hungry. Lost like he is. "Inside me, Rex, please. As deep as you can." You look up to find his eyes, the connection you've both had gleaming through.

"Kiss me, Rex."

He finishes with a groan, his lips tangled with yours, tasting your tongue in his mouth as he spills as far in as he goes. He can feel your cervix as he empties himself, and something feral in him feels satisfied.

He stills, but his lips can’t stop exploring yours, wanting to hold onto the moment as long as they can. His face eventually falls to your collar bone, panting with the effort your frenzied love making demanded as its toll.

He hears a small laugh ringing from above him. He pulls himself up to look curiously down at you.

Your hand cups the side of his face as you playfully squeeze around his softening cock.

“Its good to see you too, Captain.”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So you’re with all of them? Its not a rumor.”

You look up at him from your slice of cake, eyes tracing up over his armor-less form. You’d demanded that it was your birthday, and while you ate cake, HE was going to undress and give you a little show. Which he had. With a maddening little smirk. Now, he sits down next to you, shirtless, with only his compression pants keeping things…calm.

You hum with pleasure as his warm hand settles on your knee, your legs tucked up underneath you as you lean against the back of the couch, your elbow perched atop. You take a bite of cake with a flirty smile. He watches your lips with a slight intake of breath, eyes glancing down. You’re still wearing your white silk robe, albeit a bit…looser.

“It started as a rumor, but we… liked the sound of it.”

“And…you’re happy?”

You take the last bite, letting your grin speak for you.

He shakes his head with a smile, still taking it in. “Well, that’s one way to show them.” He takes your plate and puts it on the coffee table. “Not sure I would have been able to think of that.”

You gracefully swing your leg over to straddle him, hands tracing along his collar bone. “Blame Hunter. His senses and I have a love hate relationship”

He chuckles at that. “I forget how much he picks up. Though in this case, looks like it worked to your advantage.”

“This time.”

He chuckles again. Its good to see. The more he’s here, the more seems to melt off of him. It warms you to know you have that affect on him- it means you’re special to him. He’s always been important to you, and here… you’re becoming closer in a different way. It’s all out in the open. He meets your eyes- he must see something there, because his smile fades. He doesn’t look away.

“I wanted to say something, mesh’la.”

He looks down to where his hands rests on your hips.

“I did. I wanted to ever since you showed up ready for duty. You were everything I could have wanted in a woman. But I… I couldn’t. I just…” He struggles with his words for a moment. “...The war. My brothers, my general, it all has to come first. And I didn’t…want you to resent me for it. I couldn’t bear that.” His hands clench around you slightly. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t enough for you. I’m sorry if I let you down.”

“Rex.”

He looks back to you. With a smile you bring your hand up to his neck. He leans into you, eyes closing for a moment before meeting yours again, waiting for what you have to say.

“I know.” You say softly. “That's one reason I like you so much- I know who you are. If you were any different, you wouldn’t be one of my favorite people in the galaxy. You could never let me down.” Your hand traces from his forehead back through his hair, gently massaging the scalp, eyes glancing back to his. “Its best this way, and I’ve always known it. I’m not your responsibility, Rex. I’m your respite. And if that’s how I can contribute to your happiness, that’s enough for me.”

He chuckles, nuzzling your chin. “I think we’ve found another way you’ve ‘contributed to my happiness’.”

You put on an exaggeratedly offended voice "Oh, Captain. You ain’t see nothin’ yet."

You move to slide down between his legs-but his hands on your hips keep you in place.

"Ah ah, mesh’la." Ooo, mischevious looks good on him. "You’ve had your dessert. Now I get mine."

His hands trace up your thighs and over your ass cheeks, massaging, pulling you further into his lap. You feel his thickening length trace against the outside of your lower lips.

He lifts you up with him (just how strong IS this man? You swoon a bit more.) placing you on the table. He kisses down your neck, along your collarbone, down to your breasts. You expect him to bite, to leave his mark, but he doesn’t. It feels…respectful to your squad- a temporary visitor, not a claimant. Your heart soars even higher.

He nuzzles between your breasts. "Light, firm, or not at all?"

You giggle to yourself- the epitome of a gentleman. "Gentle, please."

"As you wish, mesh’la."

He traces along your breasts, slowly playing with your nipples, lightly tracing his tongue along them, living for the small sighs and purrs as you pet his hair. When they’ve pebbled enough to look almost painful, he nuzzles the tip and keeps kissing down. He looks up at you, eyes amused, excited.

Happy.

"Gentle?"

"Yes, please." You breathe, taking in his ministrations, savoring everything with a bliss that can only be found in the finite first time.

He licks a long strip from the bottom of your opening to the top, pulling a sharp, longing groan from your lips. "Oh, sweetheart, I can taste us both together."

So concentrated, so gentle, tracing your clit with his tongue, slowly… do you dare say lovingly?... sending shivers pulsing through you with every stroke.

"That’s right,” he hums into you, “let me taste you. Better than any cake I’ve ever had."

His tongue plays in earnest, no longer entrusting your clit to nuzzles and passing strokes. He WANTS it. It feels like he’s reaching for his pleasure instead of yours with the earnestness he eats you out. Your thighs involuntarily clamp around his head as he licks a particularly sensitive stop along the sensitive bud.

Before you can apologize, he groans. “Don’t hold back, mesh’la.”

You can feel him slide a finger inside you, your hips rocking to suck him in deeper- its not nearly enough for how much you need him right now.

"Rex. Another one, please. I want to be so full of you."

A groaning growl as he nips your thigh. “Be careful what you wish for, mesh’la.”

His mouth goes back to your clit, sucking, pulsing, teasing it out of its hood. You feel another finger slide in- quickly followed by a third. His thick fingers… fuck so many inside of you, filling you up so full, stretching you out.

"That enough for you, mesh’la? Kriff, you’re so sweet for me, aren’t you? Ready for me to take you, fill you up for the rest of the night."

Your breath catches, your pussy squeezing aroud his fingers. “Rex…” You look down to meet his eyes gleaming up from between your thighs. “Don’t leave my side until morning. Please?”

He pauses for a moment, meeting your eyes. "Mesh'la." His lips find yours, fingers withdrawing to pump his cock with your slick, lining up with your entrance. He pulls away, his forehead to yours, taking in this blessed moment of being here with you.

“Tonight? Dooku himself couldn’t drag me away.”

He slides into you, pulling you closer to him, his hands in your hair as he kisses you. Your combined moans are the most beautiful music that only the two of you can make.

—------------------

What a NIGHT.

You are amazingly sore the next morning, kissing Rex in a way that should last him several cycles before heading down to meet your squad at the shipyard. You both linger, but you know the score- and you're both satisfied in knowing you have someone out there who cares about you, who wants only the best for you, who is excited to see you again.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

A giggling laugh draws Crosshair to the top of the Marauder’s ramp, looking down at the happy reunion below him - Hunter spins you in his arms in welcome, kissing you as he sets you back down. He and Echo are adding a bit of character to the outside of the marauder - something tasteful, Echo insisted - and were able to greet you. Echo waits his turn. As you turn to him, reaching for him, he takes one hand and spins you around before dipping you into a kiss.

Looks like they had completely different reactions to sharing you than he did. Great.

There you are, looking around for the rest of them, that’s probably Hunter telling you Tech and Wrecker were in the city. You glance up to see Crosshair waiting, leaning on the door frame of the ship. And Hunter’s saying something else to you. Something that makes your eyebrows pinch in worry before smoothing out. Great, now you know he’s been grumpy. Probably going to come up apologizing, making it worse.

You take the steps up to him, fingers hooking into his utility belt. Your eyes are… wait, a little TOO innocent… what-

“Good morning, Crossy. Did you miss me?”

Oh, you little BRAT.

His hand darts out and grabs your chin, making you gasp, but not in fear. He turns your head for him, looking along your neck at the faded bruises left by the batch.

“Did he mark you?”

“No,” you purr, amused eyes teasing him. “Mo marks, no bruises, nothing. He knows who I belong to.”

The same hand flips and grabs the collar of your armor, pulling you closer to him. Fuck he was so hard - knew you were daring him to tame you, knew that’s what he needed to make this whole thing better.

“Do you?”

Your eyes glint for a moment before you pretend to be thinking, looking up into space with a high pitched “Ummmm-”

His hand closes around your neck, lightly pressing against your breathy gasp. Your half lidded eyes look up into his sinister face. He takes his time removing his toothpick with the other hand and throwing it off the side of the marauder.

“You’re confined to my bunk for the next three days. No touching yourself, no cumming- I’ll know, or the others will tell me. I’m going to take whatever I want from you, and maybe if you beg me enough, please me enough- after those three days I’ll let your pretty pussy cum all over my cock.”

He can feel you shiver in antici-"Have I made myself clear?"

Your voice is soft, breathy. "As crystal."

“Good. Then go.”

He hesitates for a moment. He pulls you to his lips, kissing you far more tenderly than his hand on your throat would have you believe. He’s not grumpy anymore, not angry- he’s back in control. You knowingly gave him back the control. That deserves some sort of reward.

“Yes, Princess... I missed you. And I’m glad you’re back. Happy Birthday.”

Happy Unbirthday, tag list!

@nunanuggets @mywheezingisalertingtheguards @allhailkingboba @valiantlyminiaturecreature @ladykatakuri @ben-is-a-hoe @klay97 @kaitou2417 @dumfanting @kuromisheart @koifish08 @echo-is-worth-more-than-2000 @badbatch-simp24 @pointy-sharp @rainytears2 @gabile18 @nedxwynert @chopper-witch @nexxxxxxxxx @nightscissor @corona-one @babypandasugar22 @pumpkinkpatch @oohyesplease @princessclaire2 @just-a-shit-ton-of-trama @badbatch-simp24 @foreverhockeytrash @unholy-t-rin-ity @reeny26 @smurderous @xxeiraxx @discarded-beskar @just-an-anxious-ball-of-flesh @mybigfatspoonielife @whore4rex @andyoufollowyourheart @lokigirlszendaya @captain-splock-you @darkangel4121

@gluwu @stormweather99 @redpool @mysanityleaving @alwayssnivellus @chickentenderx @scioness-7 @moniicarlo @nekotaetae @snips-501, @cjoftheriver, @envyspinebender @ladykagewaki, @charlie-boo @echoisles99 @lhazybear

#in more ways than one #tbb in more ways than one #tbb smut #the bad batch smut #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you #the bad batch x f reader #madame writes #tbb crosshair x reader #bad batch eve #the bad batch #captain rex x reader #captain rex x f!reader #captain rex x you

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beanghostprincess · 5 months

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(Trans women usopp has stolen my heart I think just love women in general ) Usopp Robin and Nami have a nice self care day with just the girls. (Chopper is invited too, they can't say no to him.) They stay in the shower room, they fill the bath and run the showers on hot. They play relaxing music, Nami bought lavender shower steamers, Robin lit candles. Usopp gets sanji to make hors d'oeuvres and fancy drinks he leaves them at the bathroom door. No peeking!

Chopper brought a video transponder snail to watch a movie. Usopp does their hair she's been practicing her braiding. She gave Robin a nice Dutch braid and Nami a mermaid tail. She also curled copper's little tuff of fur on his head, in return robin has been researching how to do textured hair and gave her a French braid and afro puff combo.

While they were relaxing and talking Luffy showed up asking what they were doing? Nami scolds him for coming in knowing that they're all naked and asks why is he even here? and close the door he knows how fast Brooke and Sanji are.

Luffy explained he only came into the bathroom because he needed to poop (no manners whatsoever) and Zoro was using the other bathroom to meditate. Robin and Usopp are not really affected by his antics and just enjoy Nami yelling at him. Luffy being unfazed by her tongue lashing casually sits down and eats the treats Sanji made for them. He doesn't get why it's such a big deal. Like you're just naked, plus chopper is here and he's not a girl and he's seen usopp naked before (granted this was pre-transition but I guess his point still stands)

Robin invites him to join them but lock the door. You may be the exception but the others are not. Despite Nami's protests Luffy has already stripped and jumped in slashing every one ( imagine getting so far in his journey to become the king of the pirates only to die in bathwater). She sighed in defeat and just accepted that he's here, could be worse.

They continue what they were talking about. Nami is learning how to make hail and she made a tornado by accident of course and she's still trying to recreate it.

Usopp learned how to crossbreed one of her poison pop seeds and her thorny pop seats and made a new weapon. She's also trying to make a pleasant smelling corpse plant. She tried roses, lavender and even sage. But nothing works. Nami suggests that maybe she should use tangerines to cross breed.

Robin has been researching about a vase she found, made of wood and clay. Apparently it's from an island that is isolated from the rest of the world. Everything is handmade or out of scratch, their recipes, their clothing even their soaps. All of their food is homegrown and their meat is known as the best meat in the world.

Luffy didn't need any more convincing he got out and commanded Franky to change course to go to find this island. (Sanji and Brooke tackled Luffy demanding every juicy detail of what he saw in there.) Of course everyone had to get out and get to their stations ruining their whole little spa day. Nami was specifically pissed because she's the navigator.

I love women too <- A lesbian.

This is such a cute and adorable idea!!! I love them!!! I've always thought Nami and Robin let Usopp join their girl nights even before coming out bc they've always felt safe around her, and when she came out it wasn't really a surprise to them tbh. Their spa day looks so cozy and relaxing (until they interrupt them)!! It sounds great. They'd do this 100%. And Luffy would stay bc Luffy is Luffy and the concept of intimacy for him isn't really a thing. Plus bold of you to assume he's a man. Non-binary king, that's what he is. Also Chopper staying with them also makes sense and it's extremely cute!!! Sanji is literally dying to go in there lmfao-- Not to make this about Sanuso but I think he waits by the bathroom door like a wet dog to see his girlfriend again. He misses her! Clingy golden retriever.

#their girl time together is literally the best place for gossiping too #one piece #usopp #nami #nico robin #tony tony chopper #monkey d. luffy #transfem usopp #sanuso

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rowan-e-ravenwood · 3 months

Note

gotham characters as scented candles 👀👀👀?

OOGUHUGHG YOU HAVE MADE ME HAPPY TODAY, prepare yourself for category 5 autism event

eeeeeee OKAY. this will just be some of my general favourite characters, and we'll go in no particular order. and i think all of these would work as perfumes as well, bc when i start selling candles, i want to do perfume oils too, for all the scents i can get skin-safe ingredients for, so my design sensibilities are getting more wearable by the day. I LOVE FRAGRANCES

read-more provided because this is going to get long

Oswald; i think my already-planned combination will definitely work for him - blackberry, tobacco, caramel, wine, and a hint of rose, with some leather for extra depth. and i think for the Gotham version in particular, i'd add a bit of sandalwood, to make it a bit more like fancy perfume without compromising the sweetness.

Victor Zsasz needs something kind of dark and mysterious, but also strikes me as the type to use a very basic manly-smelling soap. so we'll compromise with - juniper, cedar, lemon, and black pepper. simple and sharp.

Ivy is another one where my existing scent blend for her will work with just a couple small adjustments - garden soil, oakmoss and ginseng, with a bit of tomato leaf and some white floral notes, maybe jasmine? and for this version, add in a little bit of clove and geranium.

Edward will have a scent VERY different from the one i made based on my own version... he strikes me as the type to wear a nice, sensible, light cologne. for this, let's say - amber, sage, tonka, a bit of musk, and just a hint of lavender.

Kristen is such a lovely character, I think she needs to be on this list too. she gets a mild blend - vanilla, old paper, bergamot, and lily. a sweet scent for a sweetheart. maybe some sort of bakery note as well, she strikes me as the type to enjoy scones or sugar cookies.

Harvey, Harvey. what else could a scent based on a weathered, moody detective be other than - whisky, smoke, leather, black pepper, and tobacco. a classic combination.

Lee, my beloved, my beloved!!! i honestly don't see her as the type to wear a lot of perfume, so this one is almost entirely conceptual, as opposed to most of the others which are a blend of vibes and what they might actually smell like... i'll go with - vanilla, orange blossom, hinoki wood, and lavender. a very soft, comforting blend.

Barbara is definitely a perfumey party scent - champagne, peach, lily, musk, rose, pomegranate, and amber, with a twist of bitter almond. fun, bubbly, and girly! her warning shots are aimed at the chest.

Scarecrow, finally, has to be smoke, old wood, ginseng, hay, soil, and cardamom.

OKAY these are just some of my faves, so if you think there's someone i should have added to this, SEND THEM IN AND I WILL DESIGN THEM TOO!!!!! and any other characters too, i am foaming at the mouth

#gotham 2014

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staycoolbutstillcare · 6 months

Text

Frugal Christmas Gifts

🎄Christmas is quickly approaching and the conversations of “what the heck are we getting everyone?” have started in my house. This year looks different for us than years past as we prepare to welcome our second baby, thus the budget is a little tighter than usual. So this year we will be giving almost exclusively homemade gift baskets. This will look a little different for everyone/every couple but will essentially include:

Homemade wooden coasters - these will be made of oak and are only budget friendly because we already own the tools to make them. I do not recommend going out and buying 47 new tools to do this, you will not be saving money. BUT if you have family with the proper tools, ask if you can borrow them!

Hard candy - this was a holiday staple in my house growing up. It’s extremely inexpensive to make and is sooo tasty. Careful not to burn yourself, but nothing tastes better around the holidays than homemade cinnamon candy.

Beeswax candles - beeswax candles can help purify the air in your home and have a pleasant, light smell so they make a great gift for everyone. Beeswax pellets are inexpensive and you can make the candles in any type of container that suits your fancy. Some people use thrifted containers, we have a bunch of random jars we’ve been collecting that we will be using.

Hot pads/oven mitts - I swear everyone I know has the oldest, dingiest hot pads because they still work! No need to fix what isn’t broken, but we thought it’d be a nice thought to replace them with something nicer and homemade. We’ve been on the look out for fabric sales and I have my mom’s old sewing machine on standby ready to go. I highly recommend borrowing a sewing machine while you learn, there’s absolutely no need to buy a new one.

Mrs. Meyers dish soap - this is probably more focused to the circle of people we’re gifting to, but everyone around us loves mrs.meyers, so we thought some seasonal scented dish soap would be a nice touch.

Chapstick! - who doesn’t love chapstick?

This is also a great list for those people in your life that just already have everything. We have baskets we have thrifted to put all this stuff into but you could easily decorate some boxes too. Let me know if you guys use any of these ideas! 🎄

#personal #Christmas #frugal #gift giving #slow living #cottagecore #cottage #homemaker #home #traditional #cottageblr #tradblr #traditional femininity

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starsfic · 12 days

Text

Let's Make Bath Bombs!

Happy birthday @kai-keda! I was watching a video of Safiya Nygaard combining all the bath bombs from Lush, and that sounded like something Xiaotian would want to try with the encouragement from the twins, and Red's a sucker for his adorable family.

-_-

"What on Earth are you doing?"

Red Son's wonderful, lovely, breath-taking husband looked up, goggles over his eyes. In one hand, he held a hammer. On the other, he was prying a bath bomb out of Xiaobo's hands, halfway to his mouth and wearing his own tiny goggles. If Red wasn't so shocked, he would've cooed at the adorable sight. Speaking of bath bombs, the entire table was covered in them, hitting all corners of the rainbow. On the other end, Peter sat with goggles of his own.

"...Combining all of the bath bombs?"

Red took in a deep breath and sighed. "From where?"

"That fancy place down the street. You know, the one ran by that nice snake lady?"

Red knew the place. He had bought soap for his honeymoon from that place, and the snake lady in question had congratulated him on his "fun night." She sold a mixture of normal stuff and more magic-laced stuff. Based on the amount he could see, he was willing to bet Xiaotian had bought even the magical ones. "Okay. Why?"

Xiaotian set down the hammer and scooped Xiaobo up. "Okay, so we decided to step inside because she had that new food-shaped collection and I figured it would be fun since Pigsy's celebrating the anniversary of the noodle shop opening. And then Peter wondered what the bath bombs would look like combined, and then..." Red could practically see it with that explanation. “Xiaojiao even sent me a video of some woman doing it.” And he could see that, the enabler.

"The lady looked really surprised," Peter said with an adorable little pout. "And now, Baba won't let me smash them."

“They even promised to not make a fuss about getting a bath so the could try them!”

There were several ways Red could've responded. He glanced to his nervous-looking husband, his sulky son, and to his other son who was trying to stuff another bath bomb in his mouth, with Xiaotian grabbing the bomb before he could take a bite. He sighed. "Is there another set of goggles and a hammer?" Xiaotian, his sweet light, face lit up in a smile as he nodded to the counter. There, as if expecting he would say yes, sat goggles and a hammer. Red sighed again and turned back to the table. “First, we have to organize these. By color. It’ll make things neater.”

“Aww…”

“Okay!”

Turns out that, yes, Xiaotian bought all of the bath bombs, including the more magical, sexy ones. Red distracted Peter by sorting, as well as teaching him how to swing a hammer, while Xiaotian grabbed them, Xiaobo chilling on his back and far away from grabbing and eating any of the bath bombs.

Once a rainbow of organized bath bombs decorated their table (with a drop cloth protecting it, Red honestly couldn't believe Xiaotian had forgotten that), the smashing could begin. Red took on the duty of making sure Peter didn't hurt himself as he swung his hammer, guiding him down and through the strike on the defenseless bath bomb.

"Ooh," Xiaotian said as he opened a green one. "This one smells minty! What does yours smell like, bud?"

Peter sniffed his bath bomb, which had been shaped like a mango before the little one had taken great delight in destroying it. "Vanilla!" he said.

Red raised a brow at the declaration. "Can I smell it?" When the little calf nodded, he leaned forward and sniffed, his brow raising further at the scent that greeted him. "Huh. It really does smell like vanilla. Weird."

"Oh, remember that red lava one, Peter?" Xiaotian said, clearly stifling laughter based on the shake of his shoulders. "The one that looked like it would smell like strawberries but smelled like peaches?"

"Yeah! Bath bombs are weird!"

“I think just this store’s bath bombs are weird,” Xiaotian chuckled, spreading his hands. “They’re magic!”

“Magic, and expensive.” Yeah, they would be talking about how much money Xiaotian spent on this project. Red would be more irritated if he didn’t know Xiaotian hadn’t used their mutual credit card. “What other weird smells do you think there are?”

Turns out, loads.

Once all the bath bombs (save the “special”) ones were smashed with minimal property destruction (why did the store even sell exploding bath bombs?), it was time to grind. And once that was all done, an issue arose.

“I don’t think this will all fit in one mold.” Red grabbed one of the molds his family had gotten and eyed the size. Yeah, nope.

“Aww!”

“But we can make two kinds!” Xiaotian said, “And throw them in together!”

Peter and Xiaobo’s eyes went big. They didn’t even have to speak to make clear their agreement.

In went the powder. Red took orange and yellow, Xiaotian took red and purple, and they divided up the other colors in between them. Carefully tucked in were dried flowers, shea butter, chunks of dried orange, and other goodies tucked in the bath bombs Xiaotian wanted to keep whole.

And then, it was bathtime.

"Okay, are you guys ready?"

"Ready!" Xiaobo threw his hands up at the same time as Peter, babbling something that Red was willing to guess was "yes." Both of them sat naked in the bath tub full of water, Xiaobo contently floating in his little seat.

Red chuckled, holding one of the bath bombs. Xiaotian grinned as he grabbed the other. "Okay, one, two, three..."

"GO!"

Xiaotian dropped his bomb in, and Red followed suit. The moment the bombs hit the water, they began to sizzle and foam up. The boys cheered as colors began to spread across the water. Red honestly expected some shade of grey or muddy brown, since that was what you got when you mixed every color together. He was pleasantly surprised that, through some kind of magic, the colors spread and kept, turning the water rainbow.

"SO COOL!"

"It is!" Red chuckled, enjoying the sight of his children enjoying the wonder of bathtime. He glanced at Xiaotian, who smiled sweetly at him, reminding him of the other bath bombs waiting to be combined. “Now, remember what we agreed on?”

Thankfully, the twins’ joy didn’t die at being reminded of bath time. Both were too amazed by the rainbow water and the sweet smells that rose up to really notice Xiaotian gently shampooing their head and rinsing it out, only to replace it with conditioner. Red made sure that behind their ears were clean, Xiaobo not even raising a fuss.

He really needed to keep those bath bombs in stock if it got the twins to enjoy bath time.

#LEGO Monkie Kid #Monkie Kid #LMK #Spicynoodles #Spicynoodleshipping #my writing #Red Son #Qi Xiaotian

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xoxoavenger · 1 year

Text

I’ll Always Catch You

pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Fem!Jedi!Reader

summary: Being a Jedi isn’t easy, but they both knew the risks. Luckily, Obi-Wan is there when she falls.

word count: 1718

warnings: near death experience

notes: Happy May the Fourth Be With You!!!

masterlist

"Why so late, my love?" Obi-Wan asks as Y/N walks into the room, the door shutting quickly and quietly.

"You know how Master Fistu never stops talking." Y/N tells him, a small smirk playing on her face.

"Yes, unfortunately I do." Obi-Wan stands from where he had been meditating, trying to keep his wandering thoughts from running away. Now that the object of his thoughts is in the room, there's no need to continue.

"I'm exhausted." Y/N mutters, eyes drooping as she walks further into the room.

"Come on, let's shower." He pulls her into him, and she sags against his body.

"I'm too tired." She whispers, and he can feel the aching in her bones. She couldn't stand for the whole shower, and he knew even with his support she would still be dead on her feet.

"How about a bath?" He suggests, and she smirks as she looks up at him.

"I could do that." She pushes herself to stand on her own but lets Obi-Wan take her hand, leading her to the bathroom. Because they were at his quarters, there were no fancy soaps or nice smelling milks to add to the bath, but Y/N was too tired for that anyway. Obi-Wan turned the water hot, a tad too much for him but exactly what Y/N liked.

Obi-Wan helps strip Y/N, moving her into the bath and then himself. He sees the bruises as she lays back.

"What happened, love?" He asks as he takes off his own robes, letting Y/N lean forward so he can slip in behind her.

"Just some sparring," She explains, laying back and closing her eyes against him.

"It looks like more than sparring." He says as he runs his hands over her skin. She sighs, opening her eyes and leaning her head back to look at him.

"Obi-Wan," She softly calls, bringing a hand from the water and putting it on his face, wetting his beard. "Please, I just want to rest." He kisses her forehead, and she closes her eyes again.

"If you fall asleep I'm not carrying you to bed." He threatens, but she just smiles, letting his arms engulf her.

"You always say that." She whispers, because every time he says that she always wakes up in bed.

"I'm serious this time." She can hear the smile in voice, and she threads her fingers through his, sinking lower in the water. She can feel herself drifting off, even with Obi-Wan's thumbs caressing her skin and sending her heart into quick beats.

When she wakes up, she's in the bed.

She smiles tiredly, because she knows Obi-Wan had most definitely picked her up and taken her. She reaches out, trying to find her man, when she realizes she's alone in the bed.

"Relax," Obi-Wan says when she shoots up in bed. He's getting dressed, but it's still dark outside. Although Coruscant is never quiet, it's so late that there are only a couple speeders out. "I'm right here."

"Where are you going." She sits up and realizes she's still naked, so she pulls the covers up.

"Master Windu called. Nothing that Anakin and I can't handle. I'll be back before you wake up." He informs her, but she shakes her head.

"No, I'm coming with you." She gets up and begins to grab the emergency robes she kept at Obi-Wan's incase she spends the night without a chance of grabbing clothes from her own chambers, since it would not look good on them if she showed up in the same robes twice in a row.

"No you are not." Y/N can hear the annoyance in his voice as she puts on her trousers and shirt. She doesn't get to her outer layers before Obi-Wan grabs her arm, lurching her into him and pausing her from getting ready.

"Excuse me?" She looks up at him.

"It's just a simple chase, Y/N. There's no need-"

"I'm not letting you leave on the one night we have for us." She tells him, wrenching out of his grip and continuing to get ready.

"Leave?" He balks, attaching his belt around his waist. "I'm being called for a mission. A short mission. It's not my fault." She shakes her head at him, finishing putting the rest of her clothes on.

"I'm coming with you." She buckles her own belt and grabs her lightsaber, walking over to him with a small smile.

"You are so stubborn." He says, but he seals it with a kiss that makes her insides melt. She curses whoever caused the trouble so bad that her own Jedi was being called out.

"You love it." Y/N tells him, giving him another kiss.

"I do." He untangles himself from her and the two get ready, sneaking out together. They find Anakin sneaking out of Padme's room, but they both pretend not see it and walk with him to the hanger where the speeders are kept.

"Y/N, how'd you know about this mission?" Anakin asks, causing Obi-Wan to shoot him a venomous look.

"I called her. Thought we might need the help." Obi-Wan tells his padawan, and Y/N barely keeps in her laugh. Usually, Anakin doesn't ask questions like this, but its late and he's tired and he forgot to pretend. Just like how they both knew Padme and Anakin were together, and neither couple brought it up. It was the best kept secret, Y/N thinks.

"Right," Anakin catches on, and thankfully they get to the hanger quickly. "Should we take two then?" Anakin asks, and Obi-Wan pauses because he's not sure if he'd rather Y/N go alone or Anakin.

"Let's just take one." He tells Anakin, watching Y/N hop into the drivers seat. Anakin sighs in annoyance but gets in the back, for once not in the mood to argue with his master.

"You don't know where we're going." Obi-Wan says as Y/N puts her hands on the wheel. She sighs and the two switch seats and then they're off.

"With the rate that he drives the target will be well on his way." Anakin complains as they soar through the air to a shadier part of the city.

"Who is the target?" Y/N asks, watching the world blur past them.

"A red Rodian." Obi-Wan says, and Y/N sighs.

"Could have called local enforcement." She leans her head back. This would be easy. "When was the last time you saw a Rodian on Coruscant?" She smirks as Obi-Wan, who keeps his eyes trained ahead.

"This one has killed four employees and has taken the rest of the patrons hostage." Anakin chimes, making Y/N's eyes widen.

"Alright." She mutters, taking a deep breath. Maybe this would be a little bit harder than she thought.

When they pull up on the side of the street the three of them jump out quickly and in sync, pausing outside the bar.

"What's the pl-" Y/N doesn't finish her sentence, because she is shot in the arm. She cries out as pain blooms in her bicep, and thanks the Maker Obi-Wan advances into the building as she falls instead of running to her. She gets back up, holding her arm as she walks in. There's blaster fire everywhere and Anakin is already on the ground.

Much, much harder than she thought.

Y/N jumps into the action, her and Obi-Wan working together to disarm the Rodian. In the process, Obi-Wan is knocked back and her lightsaber is hit out of her hand, so it's just her and the Rodian in hand to hand combat. The two are throwing punches and backing up, and Y/N doesn't realize how close she is to the end of the road until she trips and can't feel anything behind her. She comes back from almost falling, but the Rodian pushes her and she falls, only barely able to grab the edge with both hands. She screams as she feels her wound pull, immediately making her lose her grip with her left arm.

"Obi-Wan!" She screams, looking down at the ground. It must be a mile underneath her, and it makes her heart plummet and her stomach revolt. She tries to take a deep breath but she feels sick. She's going to die.

She hears fighting above her and tries to hold on, but she can feel her fingers slipping. She can't pull her other arm up because that one is screaming in pain from being shot. All her muscles are tensing and her heart is pounding in her head. She can barely hear the sound of fighting on the street over it.

"Obi-Wan!" She cries, and she realizes that she's dead. She's about to fall to her death. At least it will be painless. She looks up at the sky, because she doesn't want to see the ground rushing underneath her. She can feel her fingers slipping off one by one until she is suspended in air for a moment, or at least, that's what she feels like. A prickly feeling runs up her hand and arm. She closes her eyes, hoping the fall is quick, but then there's a pressure on her wrist.

"I have you." Obi-Wan is there, hand wrapped around her wrist and keeping her from falling. "I won't let you go." She feels the tears on her cheeks as her hand closes around his wrist. Anakin appears and helps Obi-Wan pull her up and into his arms.

"I thought - I thought I-" She can't get the words out, only able to remember the feeling that ran through her body as her fingers slipped, right before Obi-Wan caught her. He has his arms around her, careful not to look too attached but unable to let her go.

"You're here, with me." Obi-Wan had thought she was dead too. He doesn't know how he was able to catch her, his mind replaying watching her fall off the edge over and over and over again. He squeezes her tighter.

"I love you," She barely says it loud enough for him to hear, and he is grateful Anakin is dealing with the hostages inside and the street is empty with night. "I can't believe you saved me." She said, grabbing his hand and holding it as tight as she can.

"Of course I did," He whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. "I'll always catch you."

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @roxaya

#obi-wan #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi #star wars imagine #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan imagine

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lemonflavouredchaos · 1 year

Text

Cherry Pie

You're lonely while baby-sitting your brothers' kids and call your best friend for some backup... of course, things go a little sideways when the kids go to sleep.

AKA I'm now on an Eddie kick and no one can stop me; some needy, cunt drunk, gentle switch Eddie for you guys.

If there's one thing you know about Eddie Munson, it's that he's great with kids. Calling him in to make baby sitting duties easier wasn't quite what you had in mind this Saturday, but any time with him is time well spent. He comes into the house like a hurricane and within five minutes he's embroiled in some complex game which seems to revolve around him chasing Piper and David while they compete to see who can scream the loudest.

The neighbours will be pissed, but at least you finally have time to make the mac and cheese they've been begging for all afternoon. As you drop a handful of sharp cheddar into the pot, Eddie skids into the kitchen, red-faced and panting,

"We need juice," he says, and you laugh,

"Fridge, Eds, they're not allowed coke or cream soda before dinner, give them orange juice or water... or milk. Whatever they want," you say, "and there's beer for you, too."

"Well alright," he says with a grin, but you feel him turn as he passes you and when you look over your shoulder he's standing by the refrigerator with a strange smile on his face,

"What?" You frown,

"Nothin' Princess," he says, but there's a flush on his cheeks still, "don't see you wearing a dress that often is all. Looks good, it new?" His eyes flick down and you feel a flash of heat go through you. You turn to the steaming pot and start to stir again - damn him, why is he so... delicious?

"No, well, kinda," you say, "I bought it a while ago but it's the first time I've worn it. It was so hot out today." It's true, and a total lie; you were wearing an older, less flattering dress before you called him. You changed into this, not sure why you were doing it, after Piper spilt paint on you.

It's so not you; light and fluffy and skimming the middle of your thighs. Buttery yellow with spaghetti straps. You're starting to realize you wore it for him, and that's a mortifying thought you can't settle with. He's not interested Y/N, if he was, he would have said something by now. Get a grip, girl.

A cold, condensation-beaded bottle of beer thumps onto the counter beside you and his broad hand rests next to it. You can feel the heat of his body behind you, hear him take a swig, smell the sharp aftershave and chemical soap and cheap shampoo he uses,

"Seems a little... fancy for babysitting," he says, voice low and heavy,

"I was... wearing an older one," you say, "Piper spilt paint on me."

"Shame," he says, "but this is a nice dress. You should wear it more."

"I might," you say and your voice is a low, shivering whisper. Piper runs into the room,

"Come play Eddie," she stamps her tiny feet,

"On my way," he says and hands her a cup, "here's your juice." For a second you'd love to throttle her. Jealous of a six-year-old, fuck I'm pathetic.

"Mac and cheese in ten," you call after them and he turns to look at you, his eyes dropping to your chest for a second, then he blushes and nods,

"Ten minutes, yes ma'am," he repeats with a mock salute and disappears. The screaming starts again; all you can do is pray you don't hear a crash any time soon.

They eat like they've never been fed before; all elbows and lowered heads, and Eddie widens his eyes at you, smirking before he takes a bite and theatrically rolls his eyes,

"You're right David," he says, "Auntie Y/N makes the best mac and cheese. What's in this?"

"Oh, you know," you say, "cheese, milk, butter," you shoot the kids a glance and mouth, "mustard." He raises his brows,

"Really?"

"Mmmhm," you say and he winks, reaching over to ruffle David's hair. The gesture almost makes you melt. Is it bad, you find yourself wondering, to picture him as a father? It seems weird; neither of you is twenty yet, and he's still trying to get out of high school... but he would be a great dad. You can feel it. Hell, you can see it.

And that makes you... well, feel things.

They protest being sent to bed and wheedle an extra long bath to compensate for going to bed at the same time they do every night. You can't say no, though; they're too cute, and when you come back out into the living room he's lounging on the sofa watching TV,

"All sleeping?" He asks with a smile,

"I think so," you sigh and flop down next to him, smoothing your dress self-consciously, "thank you, Eds, they were too much for me today."

"Hey it's all good," he says, "they're good kids. "

"They are," you sigh and press your head to his shoulder, felling him stiffen a little, "tell me you brought weed?"

"Of course," he snorts, "outside?"

"Yeah."

It's not hot anymore; it's not even warm. The cold night air kisses your bare legs and makes you shiver as you take a drag, and he drapes his heavy jacket over your shoulders,

"Thanks," it's hard to think of anything else to say; the smell of him on the fabric is dizzying,

"You're welcome, Princess," he sighs and leans back against the wall. "So I take it they're staying here tonight?"

"Yeah, Mom and Stan are in Portland for their honeymoon, Jade and Chris have gone down to Ohio for a wedding. They're here till Monday." You shudder. "It's gonna be a long weekend."

"You want me to head off and let you sleep?" He takes the joint from you and draws in smoke,

"No!" You say it a little too loudly maybe because he narrows one eye and smirks at you, "no, Eds, please I haven't talked to anyone over the age of six since Friday morning." He snorts and nods,

"Ok, well, I have time," he holds out his hand, letting you take the joint carefully, "I can come back over tomorrow and help if you want?" You nod,

"That would be great, as long as you don't mind?"

"Sounds like a good day to me," he says, "we can hop in the van and go out to the lake if you want?" And just like that it feels a little too intimate. Like they're your kids. Like they're his. You shake your head and then shrug,

"Uh, maybe, let's see how the weather is, radio says it might rain." The sudden cold in the night backs that up; it's like you can feel the thunderclouds rolling in as he takes the mostly gone joint from you from you and stares up at the sky,

"Halfsies?" He nods to it and you smile,

"Sure," you say, but he doesn't move,

"You look really good in that dress," he says suddenly, and there's no hint of teasing in his eyes now.

"Thank you," hot, blushing, unable to raise your voice, you almost whisper those words, feeling tiny and strangely exposed in his oversized jacket,

“I mean it,” he shifts so he’s facing you, “shame you don’t wear it more often.” Then he narrows his eyes and raises his hand to his face, hesitating as your eyes fix on his thick fingers and the chunky rings that they always hold, “sure you only wore it because of a wardrobe malfunction?” He asks suddenly, and though his voice is steady there’s a hint of anxiety on his face, take the plunge. This is it.

“No,” you say, “I wore it because I wanted you to see it.” He nods and looks down, then draws the last of the smoke into his lungs, before reaching out to pull you forward. Inches from your face, he blows the smoke gently into your mouth, and the rush you get breathing it in has little to do with the weed.

He takes a low, slow breath when you break apart, rubbing his nose against yours before he grins and whispers,

His hand slips under the heavy jacket, slides across the fine material of your dress, and pulls you against him just before your lips touch. Just like that, he’s not your best friend anymore... or at least he’s not just your best friend.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so fuckin’ long,”

“Why’d you wait till now?” You whisper back,

“I would have waited longer...” he said, “but I nearly had a nosebleed when I saw that dress.” You snigger and shake your head, try to step back, but he drags you forward again and buries his face in your neck, “I swear to God, Y/N, you better wear this again... not... for other guys though.”

“No?” You ask, and there’s a giddy smile spreading across your face,

“Absolutely not,” he almost growls,

“So when can I who should I wear it for then?” You ask though you know what he’s going to say,

“Me,” he murmurs, and drags your hips closer, stealing any reply you might have had when he presses himself against you and it becomes clear just how interested he is. Maybe it's the giddy exhilaration, maybe it’s the weed... or maybe it's just him, but you know you’re about to make a bad decision when you take his hand and drag him inside, pulling him to your brothers' bedroom, hushing him as you close the door.

All that bravado, all that presence melts away when you push him back onto the bed; he just stares up at you with those big doe eyes and lets you climb onto his lap. He’s so passive, so still that you feel a moment of panic,

“You... do you want to...?” You ask, blood chilling until he nods eagerly and he tugs your hips,

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Eddie mutters, but he still doesn’t take over. Not like the other guys, well the other guy, you dated; he pushed and tugged and manhandled you... and it was fine. But the way Eddie lies back and stares at you as if waiting to be told what to do... it makes you feel itchy and needy and hot.

“Take your shirt off?” You ask tentatively and he almost tangles himself up in the material in his eagerness to comply, leaving you giggling, God he’s so perfect, as you trace the lines of his tattoos with shaking fingers, “you’re so beautiful,” you whisper and he blushes.

“That’s my line, Princess,” he mutters, pushing his hands up your thighs, all the way under your dress to toy with the lace of your panties. There’s something new about him, something vulnerable and tender and so achingly soft that it almost makes you want to cry... but there’s something else under that feeling. You want to sink your teeth into him, just devour him. He strokes your legs, shifts his hips, but doesn’t try for anything else, even when you kiss him. Even when the kiss goes on and on and on until your head is light and he’s whimpering and gasping,

“Shh,” you murmur and cover his mouth; his eyes flutter shut and suddenly you get it. “You gonna be a good boy for me Eds, hm?” He nods. “You gonna be quiet while I ride you.” He whimpers into your hand but nods nonetheless, so you lean down and take your hand away. “If you make a sound,” you whisper, watching emotions flit across those big, dark eyes, “I’ll stop, and you’ll have to wait until next weekend to get what you want, ok?”

“Y-yeah,” he whispers back and you can feel him shaking under you, big bad Eddie, shaking like a puppy... why does this feel so right?

“You sure you want this?” The question is genuine, but he gives you a look of such stupified contempt that you have to stifle a giggle.

“Then shut up and stop squirming,” you murmur, running your tongue across the shell of his ear, “keep your hands to yourself, and do as you’re told, ok?”

“No,” he draws it out rolling his eyes, “I’m terrified, all five-foot jack shit of you is so much that I couldn’t leave if I wanted to - ofcourseifuckingwantthis.” He whispers the last part so urgently that it almost sounds like a shout.

“You’re a little freak,” he whispers, but he’s grinning,

“You know where the door is Munson.”

“Wild horses couldn’t get me out of here,” he lies back and lets his arms fall back beside his head, “not a peep.”

“We’ll see.”

The heavy belt buckle takes a little more work than you had thought, but his jeans slide down easily once it's undone. He’s hard, almost painfully so, and there’s a wet patch on the front of his boxers; you raise your eyebrows at him, and he flushes, looking away. There’s a shiver of apprehension; he’s big, maybe not huge, but bigger than your one and only boyfriend... and when you pull down his boxers his cock twitches. His eyes are closed, breaths coming in slow, measured waves until you run your tongue across the velvety skin at his hip.

The little hitch is like music; you chase it, nipping and sucking the skin on his belly and hips until he’s twitching and letting out soft, desperate huffs. When you run your tongue along his length he makes a stifled, strangled grunting sound, but stays still, just like he promised.

His cock twitches in your hand as you line him up with your entrance, and when you sink onto him, taking every inch so slowly that it makes you dizzy, his eyes roll back and his mouth moves.

“Please, please, please,” he’s whispering over and over again like a prayer, but when you shush him he clamps his mouth shut,

“Good boy,” you murmur and run your hand down his chest to the start of the fine, dark hair between his legs, feeling him twitch in you when you utter those two simple words. “Look how good you look in me,” you whisper, not quite believing that the filth is coming from your mouth; when his eyes open they’re hazy; he’s wrecked, holding on by a thread, and the sight of his cock sliding in and out of you almost destroys him; Eddie jams one knuckle into his mouth and bites, a strange, growling sound exiting his throat. Still, he does exactly what you told him, and the feeling of power mixed with the desperate need that’s been building in your belly becomes so heady you think you might break too.

And that’s how it goes; slow, almost silent, both of you trying to make no sound until you’re shaking and you slump over him. It’s only then that he takes over, rolling the two of you, pulling you down onto the floor on the side of the bed farthest from the door, tugging the neck of your dress down as he murmurs nonsense words and phrases that jumble together in the hot, slick spaces between you,

“so fucking wet for me - should’ve done this months ago- fuck, that’s my girl, -”

Eddie goes on and on and on until you can barely think, and then it’s his turn to cover your mouth, growling in your ear as he rolls into your, slow and hard, the sheer weight and bulk of him making your hips ache and your body shake while he worms one hand between you to toy with your aching clit. When you cum it rolls over you like a thunderstorm, muted by the way you focus on keeping silent, wrapping your legs tight around him, so tight that he has to force them open to pull away before he fills you. Then it’s just the silence of the house, the muted sound of the TV still playing in the living room, dogs barking in the distance.

“Fuck me,” he pants, half whispering, “where the fuck did that come from, Princess?”

“I dunno,” the words are dreamy and soft; he kisses your forehead and helps you up, putting you back together before you step out into the hallway, quietly makes his way to the living room before you peek into Piper and David’s room on the other side of the bathroom. They’re sleeping peacefully.

Everything is exactly as it should be... except he has to go. That’s the part that sticks in your throat, even though he peppers you with kisses and soft words and promises; it feels wrong for him to go, now.

But he’ll be back tomorrow.

#eddie munson #eddie x y/n #eddie munson smut #st4 #size k!nk #cuddling #friends to lovers #fluff #fem dom reader #switch eddie

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