#it’s still the dogs fault when they bite

[rea-grimm]

Werewolf Crocodile

You lived your whole life in solitude near the forest. There was a forest on one side and a lake with a sandy beach on the other. Your own oasis of calm, as even the rear tourists didn't venture here.

After all, everyone had heard that there was a giant werewolf with an insatiable hunger in this forest. Allegedly, people were also disappearing, but that was just a legend.

Although a werewolf did show up from time to time. A terrifying nightmare for others, something much different for you. Even though you had a full fistful of him at the moment.

Crocodile, one of the most powerful men in this country has taken a liking to your remote location. He could change here at will without anyone disturbing him. Plus, as you later found out, he loved to roll in the sand.

"Forget about it. I won't let you in until you wash up!” you said sternly blocking the door to your house.

Opposite you stood a giant werewolf with black fur that was completely covered in sand that fell off him with every step. Crocodile snarled at you, demanding his way inside.

“This doesn't work for me. You know very well where the hose is. I don't want a sandbox from my home. You have no idea how long it took me to get rid of that sand from the last time. "You replied sternly, crossing your arms over your chest. 

When you first found out the truth about him, you were scared of him. Now that you knew what he was like and what your relationship was like, you knew what you could afford. 

It wasn't just a job anymore when you rented him your land. You were something more. The crocodile snapped after you but didn't bite. He taunted you.

“Try this on people in your casino, not here! "You didn't give in. But even Crocodile wasn't going to just back down and kept growling at you.

“I'll make you a hot bath for that,” you added. But even that didn't talk him out of it. You finally got mad and slammed the door in his face, saying you were going to fill his bath. His fault if it cools off by then.

As you said, you also went to the bathroom. Before you met him, you had a classic small bathtub where you mostly showered. It was enough for your needs.

However, it was too small for Crocodile and he couldn't even sit comfortably there. Moreover, he was used to a completely different luxury. You were sure that if he could, he would turn your small house into a giant luxury villa.

But it was still your house and you weren't going to give it up without a fight. In the end, you gave way to a few changes. One of them was a new bathroom with a giant bathtub that could compete with the indoor pool in how big it was.

Your new bathtub would rather belong in a castle or a luxury hotel. You definitely wouldn't look for something like that in a small house in the middle of nowhere.

In addition, he had so many products that you could only guess what they were for. All of course first-class quality. Among all this, you also found several products for dogs. But when you knew what he was, it didn't seem so strange to you.

You turned on the hot water, and poured some products into the bath for a better experience, and also because Crocodile put up with it. The room was filled with the pleasant smell of oils in the water along with the others.

As the tub slowly filled, you dipped your hand lightly into the water. Or rather just fingers for now. As the water rose, your hand was submerged more and more. Before the tub was filled, you prepared his favourite bath robe.

As if Crocodile had a sixth sense, the door opened just as you turned off the water. The werewolf walked in, still dripping with water even though he had a towel wrapped around his waist.

He still hadn't been completely turned into a human. He still had wolf ears, and a long bushy tail that was slick from the water was flapping behind him. Long sharp claws on one hand and his classic golden hook was missing from the other.

You were actually glad he listened to you and a little surprised. He never took orders from anyone. He listened to you here and there, but it was more the other way around. Just by looking at him, you could see that he didn't like the water from the hose.

“I made you a bath as promised,” you smiled at him and tapped the edge of the bath.

"Next time you'll go under the ice water with me," he growled, still irritated by the hose. However, he did not refuse a hot bath. He took off his towel and got into the water.

“Try to understand me,” you said softly and started massaging his shoulders. You knew how stiff his muscles were after the transformation.

You felt him relax under your touch. He closed his eyes and you could see the previous rage leaving him.

"I'll get you a heated shower outside. And I don't want to hear any objections," he said after a while when he opened his eyes again. You just smiled at that. If it wasn't something huge it didn't matter.

You slowly began massaging his head as Crocodile let out a contented sigh and leaned his head more into your touch.

"Mmm, now all it needs is a cigar," he said happily.

“Not in the bath,” you answered automatically. Crocodile just chuckled at that. This time he did without it. A hot bath and your hands were enough for him.

After some time, Crocodile grabbed your hand, pulled you to him lightly and kissed you. However, it was just a small kiss. He didn't like how you bent over.

Before you knew it, he pulled you into the tub with him. You yelped in shock as you fell into the water. You felt him wrap his arms around you and pull you close.

He cupped your face and gently caressed your cheek, his claw lightly grazing your skin. 

"It's better this way," chuckled Crocodile. He leaned in slightly before kissing you. This time, however, much hungrier and more demanding than before.

Then when you pulled away, he still held you close. Intoxicated from the kiss, you felt your clothes sticking uncomfortably to you. You wanted to climb out, but Crocodile wouldn't let you. You had the impression that it was his little revenge for that hose.

"Where's the rush? He asked you with a smug smile.

“I don't like to bathe in clothes,” you replied.

“I'll get you a new one,” he said casually, capturing your lips in a kiss again. You had no right to object to this.

Crocodile Masterlist

#one piece #one piece x reader #monster piece #crocodile #crocodile x reader #werewolf crocodile #werewolf

[grackles-hoard]

Men when their anger is treated like a bad dog <- it’s me I’m men.

Idk I feel like respecting boundary isn’t hard to do, and it’s kinda the basic requirements for interacting with other humans, but maybe I’m tripping and that’s not right.

#art #bad dog art my beloved #digital art #art poetry #poems and poetry #dog poem #dog poetry #thinking about how even with the barking and warning #it’s still the dogs fault when they bite #anyways that’s the bad dog anger coded post of the day

[waluijoe]

not to act like a traumatized child but pple who yell or get violent/really really angry with their animals to the point where their pet shows fearful behaviours often... i wish you would stop existing for a while till you learn to self regulate without resulting to forms of violence yes thank you

#every day my neighbour & some friends trigger my fight or flight response #cause i hear them yell i see their clenched fcking jaws and the fear in their animals eyes/behaviours #its so fkcing awful #i swear #if im petting ur cat and he bites me and then immediately when i take my hand back #he starts showing extreme fearful body language #ohhh im out of there #i will not discipline a scared animal !!! idc !!! #fucker can bite me and be uneducated idc !!!! im not doing shit im not yelling im not tapping him on the head im not doing shit thank u #respectfully im gonna be like aw buddy not cool and go away tht was my fault for being annoying not his #i hate this #if u have awful repressed anger pls dont adopt dogs work on yourself if you do i beg #one of my friend worked on it and is doing much better but the cat still learned fear early on #another one agreed to go to therapy #neighbour is still a dickhead tho #anyways

[afieldinengland]

.

#thinking about back when i passed for a dorian myself. do you think i still do? #ah. too old in the eyes and the liver now maybe. my own fault— something’s harder in my middle. i suppose it’s adulthood #which is of course different to maturity. i already had that. i’d like to think at least #either way. i don’t know if i pass for a prince anymore. something else something else #would i want to? has there been a change that was total? #more like a wounded knight really. well it’s the pretty word games i miss— seducing with taboo. i’m telling stories again #only once or twice have i had the opportunity. dorian did it every day #ganymede narcissus…. hyacinth. warm dead boys #harri can you lighten up a little? you’re nineteen. twenty in july. youth. #there is absolutely nothing in this world but youth. nothing lonelier #i’m becoming my father. mad and soft and cynical #i doubt dorian could drink like i do. no weak london stock you’re wiltshire blood #shoulders to carry buckets. a stare to melt a canvas. i don’t know. i worry #talking talking talking. forgive me it’s been a while since i’ve loosened my tongue like this #i don’t know if i could be coveted. i know i have been. these things coexist #but i’m old now and i’m tired and i want to taste blood when i bite as well as tar-paper #conjuring up bloody idols to make a friend’s insides less haunting. shouldn’t even say that #just…. thinking. thinking thinking about prettier words that make men blush. i think i’m just lonely #dorian got sick of it too. emerging from the attic. now only dogs will follow me

[apollo-zero-one]

Listening to stories of people who survived situations like being trapped in collapsed buildings and it kinda sounds like the human response to being trapped in a bad situation is to just keep going back to sleep until death comes. Thinking about depressive avoidant sleeping. Brain doesn't know you aren't trapped under rubble it can't see out of his bone prison brain just knows everything is bad and everything hurts and we can't handle this stress we need to divert all power to life support, night night.

#is that a horrible comparison to make? yeah probably in poor taste given the state of things #do I earnestly believe I am in as traumatic a situation as that? I think my brain is reacting the same way yeah. genuinely. #I think my brain has been in survial mode or death incoming mode for like. since middle school #I think I hit puberty and my brain decided we are dying slowly and painfully and has been reacting accordingly. #I think this year it got much worse tho I think this is when I hit the critical level because this is when I have been sleeping more #I hate that house and my roommates so much that I just sleep whenever I'm there. i don't eat much at home #I try not to drink much so that i don't have to use the bathroom as much and that also minimizes my kitchen trips.... I collect 2 litres of #water each morning. one for me one for my cat. his fountain stays full and I ration my water for myself and on the 4 nights a week I work #I will refill it at work. I am mostly trying to be unseen unheard in that house. Of course the dogs always hear me which is why I am so #careful. I only pass through that house twice a day: once in the morning and once in the evening. Coming and going. #on my days off that means only 2 bathroom trips per 24 hours but you know fucking what I still get bitten by a dog every time. #and wish I had just pissed in a bottle or something because they are jumping on me they are biting me there are tears in my eyes I am biting #my tongue because if I shout or tell them to stop their owner comes and yells at them. And they don't give a shit about being yelled at!! #but me??? Bleeding and anxious and trying not to piss myself?? I don't handle being yelled at well!! even if it isn't directed at me!! #I have RSD!! I used to cry in school when a teacher was chewing out SOMEONE ELSE !! and being SHOUTED genuinely at???? #i am not coping well!! i do not feel safe in this house!!! between the actually getting bitten and the yelling!!! #and the yelling is nonstop because these women have issues with each other. bro I'm so fucking glad my dad moved out when he started having #Marital Issues bcos I think I'd have like 85% more childhood trauma if I had to listen to them fighting like this as a kid #shit I'm getting adulthood trauma from these women fighting. oh my god. angie dump your girlfriend for christ sake #and sTOP MOTHERING ME. I MOVED HERE TO GET AWAY FROM MY MOM AND THIS WOMAN IS WORSE THAN MY MOTHER ABOUT THE FUCKING MOTHERING. #Stop telling me what to wear!! Stop telling me what to eat!! Stop asking if I'm seeing anyone!! #this is my own fault I put myself in this situation and I am trying to claw my way back out but it isn't as easy as it was to get in ;-; #I hate myself I hate the decisions I made that got me here

[concoulor]

& there’s definitely a point to be made about the bidens and political office overall saving the dog from euthanasia

#he’s only still alive because he’s the president’s dog you know? #for any normal person it’s game over way before that no matter why the dog is biting #even if it wasn’t their “fault” in that they weren’t trained properly #I could totally see commander being super neurotic in that kind of environment #because german shepherds are already like that lmao so just walking around the building the flat boring lawn and taking a walk is Not enoug #idk what exactly he does all day but he needed a job teach him tricks or something #my dog is turning 6 on Friday and only in the past year or so has she been satisfied with a 30-40 min walk every day + being outside #a few hours to walk around smell things chase chipmunks try and catch bees watch the birds in the trees etc #when she was 2 it was like 15-20 min frisbee with commands before I throw it then a 30 min walk and being outside a few hours too #& I live in a rural area so it’s more stimulating for her outside than the White House lawn could ever be #there’s pretty much every North American animal to smell save the bigger ones plus all the farm animals

[cafterdark]

There's something about gradual mind breaking that drives me wild.

Imagine this. Your life is shit, you're stuck ina deadend cubical job. 9-5 bullshit galore. One day, you're assigned to train a new coworker. She's pretty, way above your league. And yet she's kind. She compliments you and your skills honed to perfection working these bullshit shifts. But still, she's way prettier than you so you feel awkward even acknowledging them.

The two of you have lunch together. The two of you were talking, and she was still complimenting you for some reason. About how pretty your hair is or how cute your smile looks. You can't even comprehend looking anything but shit. She pouts and fiddles with her phone a bit. Then she asks you to watch a video. Suddenly you're back at work. When did the break end? No matter.

She tells you how pretty your eyes were. You smile because good girls accept compliments and tell her how gorgeous her lips are because good girls are honest. The rest of the day the two of you compliment each other.

It's beenmonth since then and both of you just keep complimenting each other. Sure, your compliments are getting kind of weird. You don't know when you started calling her Mistress as a joke, but it's hard to stop now. But she tells you that it's normal for good girls to call their Mistress Mistress so you keep doing it anyway. Besides, her compliments are getting weirder too. Mistress has made it a habit to pin you to a wall before telling you them. Then she just tells you how submissive and docile you are. She kisses you a lot now. Good girls deserve to be kissed by their Mistress ofc, so you don't complain.

Work itself is harder now. You just can't keep up like you used to. You're just so horny and Mistress doesn't help. You know that good girls are horny messes, but it's so aggravating. The tight clothes that show off so much don't help, but good girls are required to wear them so what can you do? Mistress has to pick up a lot of your slack, but she doesn't seem to mind. And besides good girls let Mistress do the work for them.

Breaks are great. Mistress shows you another video and you feel so good and good girls deserve to feel good. You feel so good that you don't remember what happens during them. You've started finding bruises and bite marks on your skin after them, though you don't know why. You don't care because good girls need to be marked. For the rest of the shift, she keeps touching you and teasing. By the end you can barely stand.

At the clock terminal, Mistress pins you to the wall and makes out with you before leaving. You're frozen by lust for several minutes before stumbling to your car.

Three months in and things are now really weird. You can't tell why anymore. Your head feels like cotton most of the time. You ask Mistress why everything feels so weird, because good girls always ask Mistress for help. She gives you some pets and kisses you, reminding you that dumb puppies don't think. Your boss threatens to fire you because of poor performance, but it's not your fault you're a dumb puppy. Everyone knows that dumb puppies don't work. Dumb puppies are to be submissive and docile. Mistress does most of the work, she's so good at it that she's up for promotion.

Breaks are so fun. Mistress shows you another video. When you wake up, you feel sooooooo good. Like all the energy built up during the morning was just released. Mistress cleans you up and then she starts working again while you heel. Then when you clock out, Mistress attaches a leash to your collar and gives you a walkies home. The walkies home is the best part.

Six months in and life is perfect. You don't work anymore and that's okay. Dumb puppies don't work anyway. You and Mistress live together at her place. You sleep in your cage and if you're a really good puppy, Mistress lets you sleep at the foot of her bed. The best time is when Mistress works. She works at home now. Your job is to be adorable by sleeping in a dog bed under her desk. Well, that and pleasure her, because a dumb puppy's only role is to be her Mistress's fucktoy.

During lunch Mistress fills your bowl with kibble and it tastes amazing. She doesn't show you videos anymore. She says you're perfect now. You don't understand what she means but it doesn't matter. Dumb puppies don't think after all.

After Mistress finishes working, she takes you on walkies and plays with you. It's so fun and nice and amazing. And if you're a really good girl, the best puppy in the whole world, she'll let you sleep in the bed with her. Your life is amazing.

#t4t lesbian #t4t ns/fw #queer nsft #t4t nsft #lesbian nsft #lesbian ns/fw #mtf ns/fw #wlw nsft #lesbian #bottomposting #hypno pet #hypnosub #hypnotized #hypnok1nk #hypno fantasy #hypnosis #petpl@y #petpl4y #puppyposting #puppy sub #bd/sm puppy

[chaithetics]

Late Night Mends

Pairing: Kid (Monkey Man) x reader

Word count: 2.1K

Warning: 18+ MDNI, mentions of anxiety, injuries, not a lot of spice, some fluff, not proof/beta read lol, does not contain spoilers for Monkey Man.

Note: Absolutely am in love with Dev Patel, he adores the world and fandom love! Also special mention to my friend @mittos who helped with this prompt/story ideas. Go and see Monkey Man if you haven't already! And if you have go and see it again! Also jaan is a Hindi term of endearment. Also can we take a moment for Dev Patel's side profile?! Comments, and reblogs are always appreciated as well! I hope you enjoy!

************************************************************************

It was late, extremely late. It had been a slow night but it was quickly becoming the latest it had ever been without his tired, bloody presence. It made you uncomfortable how late it was becoming, he never took this long to show up after a big match. You bit your nails as you couldn’t help but think about the possibility of where he was and scarily, what condition he was in. 

It was a risky field that Kid was in, especially when he was the losing dog for the overeager, sweaty crowd not to bet on. He took the punches and rarely complained about it, you’d only ever been to one of his fights before and never again. It was too painful to watch, you’d bitten each of your fingernails right down to the beds, and you swore that it gave you a few grey hairs. If you had any, each of them could be traced back to being his fault, you were sure. You loved him, truly adored him, but he certainly knew how to stress you out. 

You’re sitting down waiting for him to arrive. You don’t even realise that you’ve put your hand up to your face to bite your nails but now you know that you must’ve as you’ve been subconsciously biting them as you look out the window waiting, lost in your thoughts. You could think and use that as a distraction but no, the more you think or gaze off, the more you think about him, worry about him and overanalyse every little thing to be analysed, including what would need a magnifying glass to do so. You sigh and rub your face tiredly and also as another poor attempt at a distraction to take your mind away from him. 

It was a ridiculous thought, nothing could distract you from him, Kid lived rent-free in your mind 24/7, no matter what you did or wanted. And now was his prime time for filling your head. 

You rub your face some more and then look up, you can hear the door quietly open and the sound of gentle footsteps start to make their way to you. You look up as you try to glimpse the start of his lean shadow to confirm that he’s really, really, finally here. The light switch turns on as you see his arm stretch out and then he’s standing there in your doorway. 

You look up at him as he stands, he just looks at you for a moment. His gorgeous doe-eyes are wide, he looks exhausted and defeated but there’s a small smile on his face as his eyes meet yours. Ever since you’d known Kid, he had always been a man of few words, which seemed to balance out just how expressive his handsome face was. You liked that though, that his eyes truly were the window to his soul. You did like his voice though as well, you’d have no problem with him using it more. Sometimes he would talk though, about his sweet mother, the stories of Hanuman that his mother had told him and that had vividly stuck with and inspired him still. 

You quickly take him in, there’s sweat in his hair, a cut in his cheek, and his knuckles are bloody as always. You bite your lip as you look at him, chewing over your words so you don’t come across as either a scolding lover or treating him like a patient. 

“Your hands…” You finally say as he steps closer to you and you can see that he made some attempt to cover them with a bit of cloth but the blood is all over his right hand. 

“It’s fine.” He says in a soft whisper, his voice is melodic as always but a little hoarse and deep. He looks down at his hand he tries not to flinch when you take his hand and it’s further proof that no, it really isn’t fine. You sigh and move his hand to check his fingers, it causes discomfort but based on the movement you know it’s not broken at least. It was genuinely impressive that he was still alive, still functioning and not just with everything he’d been through as a young boy, but with the amount of beatings he’d taken at the club. That he’d somehow avoided major damage to his body, that his handsome looks were still intact, and also his teeth. That was a big surprise you had to admit. 

“Sit down.” You look at him with a look of concern, one that he doesn’t like. “Come on, I’ll clean it up.” You say softly.  He runs his right hand, his good hand through his damp but perfect locks and he sighs, sitting down, waiting for you to fix his wounds and to feel your tender touch. 

You’d had the first aid kit ready to go, sitting on the floor waiting for his entrance. You always used it, he always needed it. Your medical background certainly helped, some nights you’d crack a joke that that was the only reason why he was with you. The first time you made that joke his eyes widened at first, and he immediately stuttered to try and reassure her that that wasn’t the case. He didn’t realise that it was a joke. You’d kissed him to reassure him and he kissed you back so sweetly. Now when you made the joke he’d just look at you and give you a small, precious chuckle. You just want to make him smile, make him laugh, bring him joy, and make him feel safe. He deserved that at the very least, especially with his gigantic hug. 

His hand clearly had taken the worst of it, you hold it gently in yours, and his hand twitches for a moment. He’s spent most of his life being devoid of affection. He craved a gentle touch, to feel seen and safe in the company of another. He’d started to find that with you, in the way you looked at him, how you carefully held his hand in arms when cleaning an injury and wrapping it up. You somehow had never noticed it, he figured it was because of how attentive you were to his injuries, to him, and his lips quirked up into a secret smile you’d miss over the irony of you not noticing this because of how attentive you were being to him. 

“You were later than usual.” You say as you clean his bruised and bloodied knuckles. 

“I know.” He whispers as he looks up at you, he’s tired but there’s a small smile on his lips as he knows the scolding is incoming, just what degree is it going to be from you tonight, is the question. 

“I was worried, my fingernails are almost as bloody as your knuckles because of how much I was biting them.” You say as you try to clean his hand gently, noting how his hand occasionally twitches in response.

“Would’ve been quite a match.” He whispers before he looks at your hands, noticing your nervously bitten nails. His cheeks heat up as he can’t help but feel a little bit of guilt about causing you to worry so, he’s spent so much of his life without someone who cares about him like this. You sigh and roll your eyes at his response. 

“You’re going to be the cause of every single grey hair I have in this lifetime.” You say as you treat the knuckle wounds, making sure you’re gentle. “All I do is worry, you spend every night getting beaten, thrown off tables. It’s going to be too much one day. Something will go wrong. Then what?” Kid can’t help but look up at you, it’s a conversation that’s happened more than a few times. “What if it’s your spine or something? I won’t be able to fix that-” “It’s okay. It’s fine. I’m okay, jaan.” He says as he looks up at you, his big brown eyes are widened and he’s looking at you with his sad puppy dog eyes, he feels bad for making you worry so much. 

You sigh, biting your lip as you try to stop yourself from saying anything else. He’s too sweet and so you nod and finish cleaning and bandaging everything. After a moment, you cup his cheek as you look at his warm eyes and you go to get him some water to drink. He watches you and continues to as he drinks the water. You two have become quite good at playing a game of watching each other, almost like it’s a sport to observe the other. 

He looks at you, tilting his head which tousles the gorgeous locks he has a little. You sigh and run a hand through his soft brown curls, damp with sweat but somehow miraculously not blood. His hair has always been absolutely perfect. You feel bad for essentially venting your anxieties at him right as he’s come from a long night of work at the club. 

“I only scold because I care.” You say but you’re not sure if it’s him or yourself that you’re trying to convince more as you say the words, but it’s true technically. “It’s a form of doting really.” You say as you look at him as he adjusts in his seated position, looking up at you with his wide, doe-eyed orbs. Even if it was a form of doting, you could never stay mad at him for long when having to look into those gorgeous eyes. They’d melt away any troubles and you’re sure if awards were given out for best brown eyes, he’d win. You hated that he did this, that this was how he had to get by. That he had to take these awful, unhealthy beatings but you love him anyway.

He was freshly bandaged now, he moved his hand up and Kid started to slowly caress your cheek, he traced some invisible line so gently with the pads of his fingertips as he looked at you. His doe eyes were filled with adoration and peacefulness as he concentrated on your beauty. You let him, it was soothing and sweet and you had no reason to even consider stopping this. You were his and he was yours. 

Your eyes glance down at his fingers, and then you put a hand up to cup his cheek and look into the most beautiful eyes you could ever imagine seeing. After he feels your touch his eyes quickly close and he inhales. He isn’t sure if he’ll ever get used to the feeling of your fingers on his face, of how your hair feels against his skin, or your breath, but he knows for sure, that he’ll at least never tire of it. 

His fingers glide down do your mouth and he traces your lips as he looks at them. He tilts his head and before he can even move, you’ve moved your head to press your lips together. There’s something about how gentle his hands are with you, how they feel even after everything that has happened to him and that he does. How it just takes a glance at you for him to melt into a puddle. 

You put your hand back into his hair and run it through his curls as he kisses you back and the kiss deepens almost immediately. He cups your cheek gently as your lips move together in sync and you can’t help but start to tug his locks a little and his hand moves to your waist to hold you close against him. You continue to play and tug his hair as his lips move down your chin and jaw and he kisses your neck. You gasp out and tug on his hair a bit more as you feel his breath tickle your throat between his passionate kisses. You struggle to not let out a giggle as he does this and you feel your cheeks heating up as you tilt your head back so your neck is as exposed as possible for him while he kisses your throat and makes his way to your collarbone. 

He always gets like this, and so quickly. He just needs a little touch, the reassurance of you being there and he feels an all-consuming need to make up for the years of loneliness, the lack of affection, the lack of physical contact outside of a fight he was guaranteed to lose. He has you in his arms and it’s something right for once, if it was a game this would be a victory, some kind of peace.

#dev patel #dev patel fanfic #dev patel fanfiction #dev patel characters #dev patel fandom #monkey man #monkey man x reader #kid monkey man x reader #dev patel x reader #monkey man 2024 #dev patel imagine #monkey man movie #monkey man fanfic #monkey man fanfiction #chaithetics #beautiful brown eyes #dev patel and his big brown eyes #big brown eyes #i love dev patel #go and see monkey man #dev patel hive rise #desi characters #desi fanfiction

[charliemwrites]

Part 1

Finally finished this! I think I put way too much pressure on myself to get this just right and it gave me some major writer's block. Anyway, please enjoy!

Content: Wet dreams, Somnophilia (sort of), Identity Porn, Safe/Sane/Consensual Intimacy (through dreams), Uncomfortable Situation, Pushy/Predatory behavior (brief)

“Bad dreams again?”

Drowsy and sluggish, you blink at your aunt. She’s as sleek and coiffed as always, pressed business attire and shiny hair. Shoulders back, spine straight. A woman people respect and heed without question.

Your mother’s voice whispers in your ear, that lovingly patronizing tone. See how professional she looks, dear? Isn’t that nice?

It’s not Aunt Katie’s fault though. She does look professional, and it is nice. It suits her.

You unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth. “They’re not bad, really. Just… intense.”

She hums, elegant fingers tracing the edge of your borrowed desk. “They can’t be very good if they’re keeping you up.”

You’re tired enough that you almost correct her a second time. The problem is that the dreams are too good. You wake up panting, sweating, halfway to – well. You’re not about to discuss the finer points of a kinky wet dream with your CIA aunt. Besides, it’s silly to get so defensive of something that affects you seemingly negatively.

“Maybe,” you reply, rubbing at your heavy eyes. It feels like you’re trying to look through clear jelly.

“Why don’t you take a break?” Aunt Kate suggests.

You frown, a pang of guilt striking your empty tummy. “No… no, I’m okay. It’s not even lunch yet.”

She smiles at you. The same fond smile she’s always graced you with, on holidays and birthdays, whenever she could escape the secretive walls and red tape to be with family.

“You’re already ahead on paperwork. You’re not a bad employee for getting a little sun.”

Your eyes flick longingly to the door.

Apparently, the government doesn’t believe in things like windows or sunlight. Your little desk is at the very end of a long, half-empty hallway in the middle of a concrete cube and drowning in awful blue fluorescence. You can’t even bring yourself to drag a plant to this crappy little island because you’d feel too guilty putting it through this.

“Okay… maybe just for a few minutes,” you allow.

Her smile widens as she nods for you to follow. “C’mon, I’ll walk you out. I think the dogs will be free for some enrichment.”

Well, that certainly gets you out of your squeaky office chair.

Honey sunlight drizzles over your neck and shoulders, dripping syrupy-slow down your spine. It diffuses through your chest, chasing away the artificial chill of the office. The sleepy haze retreats like frost melting from glass.

You sigh into the fresh air, ignoring the tang of gunpowder lingering on the breeze, and turn your face to the sun. Summer is coming to an end, the heat broken into mellower warmth. There won’t be many days like this left before autumn bites down and shakes the leaves from the trees. A shame you’ll likely waste most of them in your administrative prison. 

The dogs stretch out in the grass around you, tongues lolling and eyes bright, keeping you company. A furry bouquet of black and tan in the manicured grass, their ears and tails like stalks to strange plants.

You bury your fingers in Zeus’s coat and get a fuzzy white tummy for your efforts. He’s a young and handsome thing, the newest addition to the K-9 unit, still a bit fluffy around the ears. You try not to think of how that will fade and harden, just like the older dogs in the unit, just like his human counterparts. Just scratch at that itchy spot by his ribs and smile when his hindleg kicks.

Friga stands and stretches on your right side, leaning her shoulder into yours. Then picks her way around the others to sniff at Zeus. Offended by her interruption, he flails onto his stomach and nips at her, one big forepaw thumping the ground.

She goads him into playtime, and you watch with the older pack members as they begin to romp. They tumble and grumble around you, heedless of bumping into any of the others. You laugh, bright and loud—

The back of your neck tingles.

You glance around, not even sure why. Until you see a figure across the field. He’s standing by the track where about two dozen men are jogging. Recruits, you guess. But he’s not observing them or barking orders. No, he’s clearly turned to face you. It’s too far to make out any features, apart from what seems to be an unusual haircut.

You quickly glance away, surreptitiously trying to determine if the man’s attention was on something else that happened to be in your direction. But there’s little else but you and the dogs in this field, the kennels noticeably off to the left.

Then again, someone sitting in the grass with half the K-9 unit is a bit unusual. He’s probably trying to decide if it’s something that needs investigation. You hope it’s not.

Still, you can’t shake the discomfiting sense that he’s looking at you.

You ignore him until it’s time for the dogs to go back - but that prickly feeling of being watched never subsides.

That night, in the guest room of your aunts’ house, the dreams take on new life.

It starts as it always does. A dark room. A lush bed. Silky sheets. Moonlight seeping through blinds like smoke. And him.

He’s behind you. A broad body so solid you’d think he was a wall if not for the heat. It’s so intense this time, like a wildfire raging out of control, crawling from his skin beneath yours. You sense more than feel the big hand around your jaw. Rough fingers clutch at the plush of your thigh. Hot breath fans across the back of your neck, rippling shivers down your spine.

There’s a voice in your ear. No words you can discern, just a thunder-deep rumble with smoky edges. Stubble scrapes the delicate skin of your neck and catches in your hair.

A thick, heavy cock is buried deep inside you, kissing the entrance to your womb. Your pussy twinges a sweet-sharp ache with each deliberate grind of his hips. He’s spreading you open to get as deep as he can, throbbing balls pressed up tight to your sopping entrance.

Your own hands are all but useless. One twists desperately in the sheets, the other clutches at the meaty swell of his ass. Pleasure upends anything like sense or thought, even hazy dream logic. There is just this man fucking you like he owns you, two of his fingers in your drooling mouth, petting your tongue. A ring clicks against your teeth.

“Found you,” he whispers.

You jolt, eyes flying open. The powder blue ceiling of your borrowed room greets you. You’ve kicked the cotton sheets into a tangled mess around your ankles, tiny shirt ridden up your chest. Your panties are soaked.

The taste of metal lingers behind your incisors.

It’s a busy day. For once, you’re free from the confines of your sad little nook. Aunt Kate must have taken pity on your sorry state the day before and has procured busy work. Files that need hand delivery, or physical reports for you to gather. You don’t care if it’s just something to get you out of the office, you relish the stolen moments outside between buildings.

If there’s a downside, it’s the glances you attract. Everything about you projects civilian, despite the access card prominently pinned to the lapel of your blazer. It draws curious once-overs at best and suspicious scans at worst – or speculative appreciation at the very worst. Every time a fresh-faced recruit or overly decorated middle-aged man lingers as you pass, you hear your mother’s voice again.

Don’t you know what those military men are like? Practically animals. I couldn’t possibly let you be exposed to them.

It’s long ingrained to keep your eyes forward, head level, and try to keep your hips from swaying as much as possible. You’re grateful for whatever bit of paperwork you can clutch to your chest, just to hide your figure and have something to do with your hands.

You’re picking up some personnel files from the infirmary, smile brightly at the receptionist as she passes them over. Mallory is only a couple years older than you, and she’s been working here a year already.

“Lunch in the mess today?” she asks, spinning a pen between her fingers.

“As if you even need to ask,” you tease. “Noon?”

“I’ll meet you there.”

She blows you a kiss as you leave, counting the number of files to be sure you have them all. Your eyes skim over one of the names, a white label on the folder fin. “MacTavish, J.” in blocky typewriter font. You shuffle them back into a neat stack and pivot for Aunt Kate’s office.

You’re not in the moonlit bedroom this time. A half-moon grins down from a starry sky, wearing smoky nebulas for lipstick. Beneath you lays cool grass and soft earth, rich and loamy in your heaving lungs. Petals blooming in the dark kiss your overheated skin, little relief for the burn in your veins.

The change in scenery is almost as dizzying as the man between your thighs. Almost.

But it’s not the dew-saturated breeze that muddles your bewildered thoughts. It’s the hot, wet, clever tongue lavishing your drenched pussy. He licks in broad stripes from your aching hole to your throbbing clit, only ever pausing to indulge a slow suck to the bundle of nerves, before resuming that hypnotic circuit.

One thigh is hooked over a wide shoulder, your heel dug into the flexing muscles of a broad back. The other is spread by a big, calloused hand, giving him unfettered access to the softest, neediest parts of you.

You mewl desperately, hand darting down to his bobbing head. Your nails scrape shorn stubble, eliciting a gravelly groan that sends electricity up your tingling spine. It’s nothing compared to the growl you earn when your fingers twist into the longer, soft strands at the top.

For the first time, you’re able to voice more than helpless moans and wanton whimpers.

“Please,” you sob softly, “please.”

You feel him smirking, a wicked curl against your fluttering cunt. Then he focuses the tip of that awful, dexterous tongue on your clit, flicking in purposeful little strokes.

M-A-

“S-so close,” you whine, hips twitching. He pins you flat, pace never faltering.

V-I-

You shudder as your pussy clenches and spasms, finally, finally—

You wake with a sharp sound, head spinning. Your orgasm washes away like the tide, leaving disappointment and exhaustion behind. You nearly scream into your pillow as you press your thighs together. Still half asleep, it even feels like you have beard-burn.

You’re in line at the mess with Mallory, listening to her complain about some rude colonel that just had to share his opinion about her acrylics. She does the best impressions, and you’re grinning and laughing as the two of you shuffle through the options. You’re reaching for a scoop of rice when the conversation behind you catches your attention.

“—came in a couple days ago.”

“The whole squad?”

“With Braveheart himself.”

A snort. “You better not let MacTavish hear you say that. He’ll—”

“Helloooo?” You blink at Mallory, who arches her brows and waves a bagel at you. “Want one?”

“Oh, uh… sure, why not,” you answer.

“Atta girl!” she cheers, tossing it in the toaster. “Carbs for days.”

You giggle but can’t help glancing behind you. The two men have already moved on though. Not that it was any of your business – or anything interesting. You’re not sure why that caught your attention. Men are just loud, you suppose, snatching a couple to-go packets of cream cheese.

As you’re leaving the mess, you happen to glance over your shoulder. A pair of sharp blue eyes catch yours from one of the tables. A group of men, just about to sit. Mallory tugs your shirt to keep you from clipping the doorjamb and you hurry after her.

There’s heat at your back. Not from a body this time, but a fire burning low and hot in a hearth. No, the body is in front of you this time, filling up your watery field of vision. Peachy skin and coarse dark hair, an old scar slashing across a sharp hip, miles of lean muscle.

Not that you have much opportunity to ogle with tears blurring your sight. The fat cock bullying the back of your throat makes it hard to do anything but choke. You dig your nails into a thick thigh and pull back, writhing your tongue along a puffy vein as you go. The leaking head rests on your drenched tongue as you catch your breath. Smoke and leather and musk saturate your lungs, cloud your empty head.

He smells so good; you don’t even like cigars.

A rough thumb caresses your cheek, a silent request for you to continue. You can practically feel the lust-drunk moans vibrating in his chest – so deep, they’re barely audible over the crackling fire.

You hiccup as deep a breath as you can manage and swallow him down again. He’s silky on your tongue, you sigh softly through your nose as the blunt head flirts with your gag reflex. You slacken your jaw despite the ache already crawling into the joint. Even then, your teeth scrape the base a bit, but that only makes him twitch against your soft palate.

“Look here, love.”

Your lashes flutter as you try to focus your gaze, scrolling your eyes up his body. Most of the details are lost either in the haze of desire or the vagary of dreams, but the blue eyes that greet you are sharper than real life.

You jolt back to consciousness with a dry cough, the scent of him still haunting your senses. You stumble to the restroom for water. Don’t even realize that you’re glancing in the mirror over your shoulder, expecting someone to be there, until you realize you’re alone.

Oddly bereft, you trudge back to bed and try to focus on the clean soap smell of your aunts’ detergent.

In moments like this, it’s hard not to blame yourself.

Not because you’ve done anything wrong, or even feel like you have. It’s because the situation is so frustratingly out of your control that it’s almost easier to tell yourself that one decision or another would have avoided this outcome. A sharper response, a frown instead of a smile, a different walking route.

(There’s also your mother’s voice, always. Saying to be smart, to pay attention, to not “put yourself” in a vulnerable position. You silence that voice viciously this time.)

Still, the fact of the matter is, there’s no personal choice you could have made to keep Corporal Callahan from cornering you in this supply closet. You just wanted a box of tissues.

“Look, I know you’re Agent Laswell’s niece, but I don’t see why we can’t go out because of it,” he reasons. As if that’s the reason you’ve been trying to gently dissuade his attempts.

“It’s not that—” you begin, shifting. He’s standing too close, but you refuse to back yourself any deeper into this tiny space. The doorway is right there, he’s just taking up all of it.

“Then just say yes,” he chuckles. His tone is all smooth and easy, meant to be charming maybe? “Just one date, that’s all I’m asking.”

Except you’re not asking, you think with helpless frustration. The sharp words get trapped behind your teeth, cutting up the roof of your mouth. Your heart is beating so hard and loud you can barely hear his “romantic” overtures.

“I’m not really…” You’re not even sure what to say this time; you’ve already told him you’re not looking to date. He’d said some vaguely predatory line about changing your mind.

In the absence of a finished statement, Callahan takes the opportunity to continue cajoling.

“C’mon,” he sing-songs, “I’m not letting you out of there until you say yes.”

You pry your jaw open, about to agree to it just for the sake of getting free. Deal with the fallout later.

There’s a rush of air and suddenly the doorway is empty. You briefly see Callahan against the opposite wall, face blank in unpleasant surprise. Then a big body blocks your view of him. Broad, bunched shoulders and thick thighs. A shock of brunet hair shaved close at the sides and long at the top. Your entire body locks up.

“You come near her again, they won’ stop findin’ pieces of ya, aye?” A growl, low and rough, Scottish accent thick. You shiver.

Callahan stutters something, a few garbled syllables through a strained and winded voice. You think you might hear “captain” in there somewhere. The bigger man shifts, you hear a muffled thump – Callahan hitting the wall again, you think. Then, with seemingly no effort, your savior tosses Callahan to the side like trash. He stumbles, catches himself.

“Away ‘n bile yer heid.”

Callahan flicks one last frightened glance your way then hurries off, proverbial tail tucked between his scrawny legs. You don’t even watch him go, eyes glued to the stranger’s muscular back. He rolls his wide shoulders, cracks his neck, and finally turns.

Familiar blue eyes pin you in place as he steps closer. The scent of cigar smoke and leather teases your nose.

A voice you’ve known for months rumbles in his chest. “Found you.”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #hades and persephone inspired #soulmates #john soap mactavish #captain john mactavish #kate laswell

[bi-writes]

I LOVED how you wrote ghost and badass!reader omg 🫶 If you’re comfortable, would you be open to writing protective boyfriend ghost at the pub? Some oblivious guy is creepy when ghost goes to get drinks. He has no idea what he’s gotten himself into when ghost returns.

ill take any opportunity to write about my favorite lieutenant spilling blood for love (18+)

he has been gone for too long. your glass is empty, and the crowd is filling the room, and it's loud. you lose him, even the size of him is swallowed by how many people are moving around, and you sigh as you lean your head into your hands and wait for him.

you know he must hate this. the people. the noise. it's hot, too, and you know he'll complain a little about the stickiness of his mask when you get home.

you gasp when there's a splash of something against your back. you cry out in anger, and when you turn, there's two men cackling as they come into your space.

"ohhhh!" the lankier one giggles drunkenly, and his eyes make you uneasy. his hair is curling from the sweat along his brow, and the dark pieces of it fall in front of his face, drawing low shadows over him. he's the one holding the drink that just spilled down your back. "s-sorry, luv--" he hiccups, and you glare.

"fuck off," you snap, and it's then that you realize you've made a mistake. something ugly flashes across his face, and his friend notices, a bleach-blonde with an uneven haircut, and he whistles a little.

"oh, fuck, mate--she wants a fight."

you scoff, shaking your head. "if you aren't gonna apologize for spilling that shit on me, the least you can do is get the fuck out of here."

"oi, you got a fuckin' mouth on ya, lovie," the dark-haired one growls. you sit up a little straighter, brushing off some liquid that's spilled onto the table. they're cornering you, you realize, when the blonde one takes a seat across from you and the other traps you in the booth by sitting next to you.

"i'm not going to ask you again," you say firmly. "get your ass off this seat and move along."

"you're one of those, aren't you?" the one next to you gets uncomfortably close. "one of those feminists? that thinks men are useless, and that you're meant for something more than the fuckin' kitchen?"

you frown, your mouth opening slightly, and you shake your head, "excuse me?"

"you lot," he comes closer. "think you're hot shit. but y'r all fuckin' slags. only thing you're good for is opening y'r fuckin' legs."

you jump visibly when he grabs your thigh roughly, and you're about to react when a gloved hand finds the back of his head and slams it down against the wood of the desk.

you squeak when he cries out in pain, his nose pointing at unnatural angles, and blood splatters the table and the denim of your jeans. you lean back, but then those gloved hands grab the back of his shirt and yank him out of the booth, tossing him onto the floor. he skids across it, wet with spilled drinks, and he doubles over, coughing, cradling his face as he sobs.

you swallow hard when ghost finally turns his head back to the table. his chest is heaving, and he squeezes his hands in and out of fists when his eyes land on the helpless blonde that still somehow sits across from you.

"no--" he holds his hands up. "n-no, w-we were just--"

"just what?" ghost snarls, tilting his head to the side as he looks at him. you suck in a shaky breath, frozen in your seat, and you almost feel bad for the poor thing. but then you replay the words, the way they looked at you, how one of them put a hand on you. you relax a little, blinking, and you realize it must be acceptance.

you take a dog with you when you go out. it's not your fault people don't realize their bite hurts.

ghost takes a step towards him, boots heavy, and he runs. he bolts, running away, out the back door, and he leaves his friend to cradle his bloody face against his shaking hands all by himself. the crowd was quiet for a moment, but the mood softens when ghost turns away, letting out a low breath. people realize the show is over, and they shuffle back in place.

there is blood on the back of your hand. before you can touch it, a gloved hand reaches out and smooths his own over you, wiping it away. you sniffle, looking down, and he comes closer to crowd your space. you feel only warmth with him there, and your lip trembles a little.

"s-sorry, i--"

"wot are you apologizing for?" simon mutters. "apologizin' for those fuckin' twats, luv? don't want t'hear it."

he grunts, shaking his head, and he tugs on your arms, bringing you closer.

"c'mere," he tilts your head up, putting a few fingers on your chin and staring down at you. he narrows his dark eyes, and you smile, just a little, sadly. "was almost too late." he looks behind him, and you see a few feet away, there's two drinks spilled on the floor, glass shattered where he dropped them. "saw him put his fuckin' hands on you, 'n--"

you put a hand on his forearm, digging your nails in there gently. you shake your head.

"it's okay. doesn't matter." you laugh a little. "kinda hot."

you notice him raise a brow, and he tilts his head to the side, and he hums.

"oh, that right, luv?" he leans in, closer, and when he touches your hands, blood comes off on your hands. you smooth your hands against his own, gripping them firmly, and you look up at him as you smile knowingly.

simon would do unspeakable things for you. and that idiot was lucky to go home with his hands still attached. it should scare you that you know this, that you know this is a fact. it's dark, it's cruel, but it's yours, and you like the way it tastes in your mouth.

you like the way revenge feels against your tongue, the sound that love feels between your teeth. this love is fucked and raw, and it will tear you apart, but you can't wait for it, to feel it, the thin line between pain and pleasure. simon pushes the boundary between good and bad, and for once, the blood feels warm, and he paints you with it, and it's fucking poetic the way you look at him now.

pretty eyes, big eyes, eyes that tell him she's going to fuck you when she takes you home.

"yeah, big man," you murmur, and you feel something hot go through you when his eyes drop to your lips for just a second. just enough time for you to know he's losing his resolve. one thought about getting his hands on you, and he falls, and it's pathetic, but he's so fucking hard, he doesn't care. "it's hot."

and when he forces you to look in the mirror later, when it's dark and it's just the two of you, you realize there is blood on your face, and his hands are dirty with filth.

but when he goes to take the gloves off, you don't let him.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost x you #simon thoughts #ghost mwii #ghost call of duty #dark!simon

[blorbobutworse]

Leia and Luke are the less problematic version of Azula and Zuko.

#there. i said it #diplomat+cowboy #blorboblurbs #like. their parents love them #but also theyre craaazzyyy #they...would not have made good parents. i dont think. they love their kids!!but loving is not the same as raising #you can love your dog and never teach it not to bite #it will still be your fault when they get put down.

[moonstruckme]

hi mae!! how are you?

i recently burned my thigh with my iron curler and it formed a big scar. it started slowly bubbling up and i accidentally popped it like 2 days ago so now i have fresh skin open 🥲 it’s extra sensitive and i have to patch it up. and when i let the wound breath it HURTS 😭

i was wondering if you could write about this with emt!marauders? or maybe just james? idk lol whatever you feel like writing it about.

AND IF YOUVE WRITTEN ABOUT THIS ALREADY, MY BAD 😃😭

Hi lovely, I'm good! I'm really sorry this happened, it sounds awful!! Hope it's feeling a bit better by now <3

cw: severe burn (no details)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 786 words

“I don’t think we should do this.”  

“I mean,” says James, sitting patiently opposite you on the bed, “I don’t love it either.” 

“Then let’s not,” you bargain.

 He gives you a sorry smile. “What do you think we should do instead, angel?” 

You take a deep breath. “Leave it,” you say on the exhale. “It’ll heal eventually. Or it won’t, and the bandage will become my new skin. I could be fine with that.” 

“I’m somewhat attached to your real skin.” 

“We all have to make sacrifices, James.” 

Your boyfriend gives you an amused look, but there’s worry beneath it. You feel guilty for putting him through this. It’s bad enough that he has to change your bandages for you because you’re too squeamish to do it yourself, but now you’re also making him convince you as if it were his idea. 

You blow out a long breath, tilting your face up toward the ceiling. “I can’t see it.” 

“You don’t have to,” he reassures you. “You can close your eyes, baby.”

“How bad is a little infection really?” you ask, but you’re already laying back, succumbing to the plushness of your pillow. 

“I had a dog bite get infected once,” James says, pulling your leg into his lap. Strong, gentle fingers on the underside of your thigh. “I didn’t enjoy it.” 

“You got bitten by a dog?” You turn your head to see him, but he shoots you a look and you sigh, covering your eyes with your hands. “When was that?” 

“When I was little.” One of his hands stays cradling your leg, but you feel the fingers of the other probing carefully at the edges of your bandage. Apprehension climbs up your throat, mingling with the ache of affection that’s already there. You appreciate how delicate James is with you, peeling the bandage up gingerly by one corner instead of ripping it off like some might. “It wasn’t really the dog’s fault, it was just spooked and I didn’t know enough to stay away.” 

You hiss as the bandage sticks to a tender bit of skin, and James coos an apology, stroking the unharmed skin beside it soothingly. Then the whole thing comes off, air hitting the wound and making you tense all over. 

“What happened with the bite?” Your voice is somewhat strained. 

James hesitates. “There was a lot of puss involved,” he says. “You won’t want to hear the details.” 

“Mm, thanks.” 

He chuckles. You can hear him twisting the cap off the antibiotic ointment. Your fingertips press harder into your brow bone. 

“You alright?” he asks softly. 

“Mhm. I’m ready.” 

You still gasp through your teeth when the ointment makes contact with your skin, and James grips your leg more firmly to keep you from flinching away. 

“Sorry,” he hisses, working fast as he can with gentle, caring fingers. “Sorry, baby.” 

“Not your fault,” you squeak out, keeping your own fingers pressed tightly over your eyes. “Thank you for doing this.” 

James doesn’t seem to want to accept your thanks, and you let the silence sit. When he’s done, you both sigh. 

“Thanks,” you say again. For good measure. “Couldn’t have done it without you.” 

“Definitely not,” James agrees. “I’ve no idea what we’re going to do when I’m hurt someday and neither of us can look at it.” 

You drop your hands from your eyes and sit up on your elbows, careful to look only at James and not down at your leg. It’s not hard. He’s a lovely sight, even with that sympathetic pinch to his mouth and worry tightening the muscles around his eyes. You reach for his hand, and his expression lightens. He wipes his fingertips off on his jeans before giving it to you. 

“We’ll have to call Remus,” you say, squeezing his fingers. 

A laugh startles out of him. “I thought you were going to say you’d put your squeamishness aside for me. Or that it wouldn’t be gross because you love me, or something.” 

“I would if it were true,” you reply, “but I’m afraid I won’t be much help if I’m gagging over you the entire time. I’ll hold your hand while we both don’t look, though.” 

“Mm, fair enough.” He scoots closer on the bed. His hand finds your opposite hip, rubbing a slow back-and-forth. “And you’ll distract me with kisses while I’m nursed back to health?” 

“If it’ll help.” Your voice is soft. “Though I should point out that I haven’t received any kisses.” 

Twin dimples appear on either side of James mouth as he leans over you, careful to avoid your hurt leg. “Patience, angel,” he murmurs as his lips brush yours. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x self insert #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter hurt/comfort #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter drabble #james potter blurb #james potter one shot #james potter oneshot #marauders #marauders fandom #marauders fanfiction #the marauders #hp marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader

[highvern]

Aphrodite

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: smut, friends to lovers, established relationship, fluff at the beginning

Warnings: bathroom sex, kissing, groping, fingering, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics but they’re both actually switches (Mingyu is a service top), cumshot, Mingyu is still obsessed with titties, hair pulling, choking (hand around throat but no breath play), doggy style, unprotected sex (not endorsed by author), praise kink and strength kink go burrrrrr, there's a little bit of fluff/angst at the beginning (care/comfort) because she had a hard day at work, porn with feelings

Length: ~3k

Note: Drunk Goggles couple's bathroom scene mentioned in Discovery! the first third is so cute i actually had to close my laptop and step away while editing it so please enjoy my brain rot lol. its implied reader is on birth control and Mingyu knows it but still wrap it before you tap it guys. This was drafted as "Champagne Confetti" but i couldn't post it with that title with a straight face

ALSO stream Mamamoo Wheein's new album In the Mood! Aphrodite was a huge inspiration for the sweeter parts of this fic

read more here

The knob of your bathroom cabinet is digging into Mingyu’s shoulder uncomfortably and his ass freezing on the hard tile, but neither register in his mind much. His sole focus is on listening to you vent about how shitty work was as you wash up behind the flimsy curtain only a few feet away.

“Oh and then she had the audacity to say I should have been more prepared for the meeting! As if she didn’t send me the info an hour before!” You babble, head popping out to look at him. 

Mingyu tries and fails to stifle the laughter bubbling at the sight of your shampoo Mohawk.

“What a bitch!”

“Right?!” You move back into the spray and out of sight.

“She’s just mad because you’re better at her job than she is.”

“I wouldn’t be if she actually did her job.” You sigh.

“I’m sorry baby.”

“‘s not your fault Gyu.”

“Do you want me to beat her up?”

“Yeah, because sending my gigantic ass boy toy after her is gonna get her off my back.” You call, closing your eyes as foam rinses from your hair down your skin.

“The correct term is boyfriend.”

“The correct term is baby daddy.”

“You’re fucking nasty.”

“You love me.”

God, I do.

But it’s too early to say those words with the level of earnestness he feels so Mingyu bites his tongue.

Steam and lavender soap tickle his senses as you wash away the evidence of your previous distress. Your manager is number one on Mingyu’s incredibly short shit list.

Mingyu had barely waltzed through the door of your apartment after work, excited to spend the evening cuddled on the couch with a movie like you do every Thursday. He nearly shit himself when he found you sitting at the kitchen counter, tears staining your face and eyes rimmed red. You dove into his chest and cried for an over hour, unable to speak as wretched sobs escaped your throat. He’s never felt so helpless as he sat there, stroking your back as he held you, whispering gentle affirmations into your hair. It was his idea for you to hop in the shower once you calmed down enough to assure him you weren’t injured and “no, no one died.” 

The entire time, Mingyu sat close by listening intently, chiming in occasionally with agreements. He hadn’t follow you into the stall, void of the desire to worsen your mood. Shared showers were not a favorite in this household. Either it ended after two minutes to move to the bed or one of you hopped out, annoyed that the other was hogging the hot water and leaving them in the cold. Mingyu wanted you to relax but the only way he could relax was to make sure you’re actually okay. Which is why he is planted on the ground near the door like a guard dog, keeping an eye on you in case the tears returned; numb butt and sore shoulder be damned.

The squeak of the faucet signals the end of your bathing, echoed by the ruffle of the curtain as you push it aside to exit the tub. He keeps his eyes trained on your face, a smile spreading at the glow radiating from the apples of your cheeks void of the earlier splotchy dullness. You already look a million times better than when he entered your home.

Mingyu is trying very hard to be a supportive boyfriend while you continue to rant; but it’s challenging when the actual woman of his dreams is standing only feet away, completely nude and soaking wet, skin flushed from scrubbing and glistening in the warm glow of the light above the mirror. It takes all his might to ignore the swell of your breast and gentle the sway of your hips, or the curve of your thighs as you stretch for your towel on the rack above the toilet. The movement sends droplets falling in staccato from your hair plastered against your head onto your shoulder before trailing down your front, tracing dizzying patterns across your skin. His very own Aphrodite, exiting the sea to fill his heart.

“I hope she gets fired soon. I know I didn’t look like an idiot in that meeting, it was all her.” 

“No one thinks you’re an idiot.” He looks down at his hands playing with the cuff of his sweatshirt to distract himself from how you start twisting to towel off, body bending and stretching suggestively as you concentrate.

“She definitely does but who cares.”

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah, actually.” You smile, towel wrapped around you snugly as you step away from the tub and towards him. “But I could still really use a hug.”

“I can do that.” 

Mingyu jumps up from his place on the floor, beaming at the soft look on your face as he tangles you in his arms. He plants peck after peck across the crown of your wet hair, nose filling with the scent of your shampoo as he squeezes you against him tightly. The remaining moisture on your body is wicked away by the soft fabric of his sweater, covering him in wet spots along his front and down his arms.

“You’re the best.” You sign into his chest as he leaves a kiss on your hairline.

To distract himself from what he really wants to say, Mingyu blows a wet raspberry against your forehead.

“Nope! Never mind!” You squeal, trying in vain to break out of his strong grip. “Get away from me!”

“But baby you just said I was the best!” He counters, arms tighten to prevent you from wiggling lose.

“No, you’re gross and I hate you!”

“GASP.”

You can only roll your eyes at your boyfriend's dramatics.

“You hate me? I wipe your tears, clean up your snot, order us take out, and you hate me?” Voice rising in pitch, he gapes at you.

“You ordered take out?”

“Focus on me! I’m hurt. Devastated!”

“Oh no, what will I do?” You deadpan, but the twitch of your mouth betrays your amusement.

It’s a dangerous game given you’re still locked in his arms and his penchant for being over the top.

“I’m deeply deeply wounded missy. So there’s only one way I’ll forgive you.”

“And what’s that?”

“Kiss?” He says with puppy dog eyes and puckered lips that makes him look like a fish.

“Oh my god!” You cackle at his ridiculousness.

“Oh, there she goes again! Do you not care about me at all?”

His question is punctuated by him collapsing against you and fake crying. Laughter bubbles in your chest like champagne. Mingyu makes you feel better without even trying.

“Alright, come here you big baby. Let me give you a kiss.”

Matching smiles meet in a sweet kiss. In your relationship, one kiss frequently becomes ten or twenty so there's no shock when you keep planting pecks against his lips before moving to tickle them across his cheek, brow, and tip of his nose. Mingyu is all smiles and giggles under your lips as you move back to his mouth.

The short kisses become heated swiftly. You wipe the smile off his face easily enough, thanking the universe it takes almost nothing to get Mingyu started (not that you’re any better). You’re impressed he didn’t jump you when you stepped out of the shower in all your naked glory. Honestly, you’re a little disappointed he didn’t. But now with your towel unraveling from your tussle, pressed against his solid frame as you nip his lips, you know it’s a matter of seconds before Mingyu crowds against you and makes you feel a lot better.

Like clockwork, a simple hum in the back of your throat paired with your nails trailing down his chest sets Mingyu off. He turns with you still in his hold, lifting you up and depositing you on the cool marble of the countertop, pushing your legs apart to make room for himself. Clumsy hands push your towel away, giving him access to play with your chest. When the nail of his thumb scratches your nipple, you arch against him with a sigh. The shift breaks your lips apart and Mingyu wasted no time diving for your throat.

Apparently tonight is one of the few nights Mingyu wants to be a little more demanding with you. The hand not plucking your chest moves the tangle itself amongst the wet hair at the crown of your skull, giving a firm tug that has your spine arching, stretching your neck with a whine to give more space to bite along your throat. Teeth scratch against the cords of muscle, but his tongue soothes the abused skin immediately after; even when he’s rough, he treats you like a princess. You feel yourself clenching around nothing at the maddening combination of sensations.

“Please, Gyu”

“Please, what?” He asks, not budging an inch from where he latches to your collarbone.

“Touch me.” You whimper.

His mouth replaces the hand pinching your chest, sucking your abused nipple into his blistering mouth. The hand that was on your chest, skates down between your thighs, pushing your legs further apart, letting your foot find purchase on the handle of the cabinet next to you to spread you wide.

He starts slowly, middle finger parting your downy lips to trace from your entrance to your mound. The calloused pad of his finger nothing more than a gossamer touch against your heat, maddening as it teases you. Curling your hips upwards, you give him more space to circle your entrance before he dips his middle and ring finger inside, thumb stretching to caress your swollen clit.

“So wet already.”

“If you had a boyfriend that treats you how you treat me, then you’d understand why.” You pant into his hair.

“Think I understand plenty.” He replies, moving your hand to caress his dick where it sits tented in his shorts.

The bathroom is filled with shameless whines and puffs of breath as you work each other up. You’ve successfully gotten a hand into his underwear, fisting the head of his cock in a tight rhythm just how he likes. The other busies itself scratching down his back as he preps you for what's to come by twisting two fingers inside you, heel of his hand grinding against your clit with every thrust.

“Need you inside.” You whisper into his mouth.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you?”

“Mhmm,” your tone is verging on pathetic but his reaction washes away any embarrassment.

“Then be a good girl and turn around.”

Mingyu steps back, giving you space to quickly jump off the counter to turn your back to him. He busies himself with removing his sweater while you settle on your elbows, ass pushed out in front of him teasingly. It gives him pause, easily distracted by the arch of your spine and the subtle jiggle of flesh as you rock from one foot to another. You watch in the mirror as he blinks lazily, using one hand to push down his pants while the other cups a cheek, squeezing it in his palm. When his shorts are finally pooled around his ankles, he steps closer to let his length rest on your ass.

You can feel his leaking tip brush your tailbone, leaving a faint trace of dampness across your skin as you roll on to the balls of your feet to grind back on him. The rigid velvet of his shaft has arousal dripping down your thighs crudely.

You watch his face with rapt attention in the mirror. He’s hypnotized by how his cock looks pressed snug against your rear, resting hot and heavy in the valley of your cheeks. His throat bobs with a harsh swallow; hands wrapping around your sides, lazily tracing the curve between the bottom of your ribs to your hip bones. Mingyu’s hips move of their own volition, rutting across your ass as his cock continues to drool on your skin.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

“Come on baby, I had a hard day. Need you to make me feel better.”

Mingyu's eyes find yours in the mirror. You know the pout on your lips will get you everything you want. Mingyu knows it too.

“Condom,” he prompts. 

There’s a stash in the drawer to your left but Mingyu is fully aware he lacks the will power to reach over and grab one when his hands are filled with something so much more enticing right now.

As you shake your head with a mischievous quirk of lips, he’s pretty sure you’re playing a cruel joke on hum.

“Shit,” He curses. “Are you serious?”

“Fuck me, Gyu.”

Palming his cock, Mingyu recites a silent prayer that he doesn’t blow his load immediately. This is the first time he gets to fuck you raw and goddamit if it’s short lived. Tracing his tip through the mess between your legs, he collects your arousal to lube him up. He can feel how soaking you are at the idea of him fucking you without the barrier of latex, inner thighs smeared with your essence. Hopefully you’ll come as quickly as he probably will.

“You’re so dirty, letting me stuff you with my cock like this. Aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” you gasp when he nudges your clit. “Your dirty girl.”

“That’s right, my dirty girl.” He growls as he pushes inside you.

The first inch has you both closing your eyes, vision filled with stars. As nice as he feels bare inside you, it’s the mental is getting you off more than the physical. Every time Mingyu stretches you out on his cock is a treat, but the knowledge that the flared head of his cock pressing deep inside is leaving traces of his seed along your walls has you breathless. You’ve never let anyone else fuck you like this and a part shielded in your chest hopes he’s that last to.

Mingyu is more or less losing his shit behind you. The scorching wet clamp of your silky inner muscles that he’s only felt on his tongue or fingers is better than he could ever imagine. Your pussy gushing to coat his cock as he splits you open has him on the verge of tears. When he’s settled in, your ass pressed firmly to his pelvis, you wiggle against him.

Mingyu responds by pressing forward, pinning your hips to the counter harshly to prevent you from moving again. You’re clenching around him so hard, it takes all of his self control not to cum. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You mewl.

You’re really not helping.

“Calm down.” He grits out, both to himself and you.

“Need it.”

“Oh you need it?” He chides, delivering a bruising thrust.

You reward him with a sharp whine.

“Calm down baby, I'll give it to you. Always do, don't I?”

One hand circles the base of your throat, not squeezing; just resting the curve against his palm as his thumb trails along the side of your neck. It stops your breath anyway. But then Mingyu leans down to press his chest with your back, face coming into view right over your shoulder to whisper in your ear while looking you in the eye through the mirror.

“But you gotta be a good girl and spread it for me.”

You heave at his words, afraid you might pass out. Hands scramble to grab your own ass cheeks, pulling the flesh apart so he has a clear view of your pussy sucking him in as he starts curling his hips inside you.

The way he’s fucking you is vulgar. Hand wrapped around your throat as the other moves back into your hair, your own brushing the tops of his thighs as he cants against your ass, balls slapping against your pussy with each thrust. Mingyu leans back to watch himself disappear into your cunt, pulling you up into an arch. The feel without a condom is melting his brain but the visual absence of latex is doing incredible damage to his psyche too.

You both are a mess of sweet whines and rough groans, bathroom echoing with the clapping of skin and wet squelch of your full pussy. Breaking his focus on the way your entrance stretches to accommodate his thick cock splitting you open, Mingyu looks in the mirror to watch the way your tits bounce in time with his hips; your mouth open in a silent scream, eyes misty with delirium as you watch him watching you.

“Feel so fucking good like this, shit.” He pants. “Hear how wet you are? Fucking love it don’t you?”

Your head falls forward pathetically, only stopped by the palm still resting around your throat. When Mingyu gives a tentative squeeze, you whimper a quiet agreement. He watches as you force a hand between your thighs, fingers rubbing your clit in tight circles to push you closer to the edge.

“Gonna come,” you whine.

“Yeah?” Mingyu asks, excitement clear as day. He tilts his hips to fuck deeper, stretching you just a little bit wider on his cock to send you home.

“Fuck!” You sob, tensing as your orgasm washes over you. 

Every muscle in your body ignites, squeezing impossibly tighter as electricity snaps through your nerves, licking your veins and exploding your field of vision in a blinding white. Like a taunt bow string being released, you curl in on your chest as you clench around your boyfriend’s cock, gushing down shaky thighs. Your free hand grips the edge of the sink, holding on for dear life as you twitch in his hold.

“Where do you want it?” Mingyu cries, two seconds behind you and using his last functioning brain cell to not piss you off by assuming he can finish inside despite wanting nothing more. “Gotta tell me where you want, Y/N.”

“On me, wanna feel you on me!” You cry, still playing with your clit as you pry open teary eyes to watch Mingyu from the mirror.

A bright red blush spreads across his chest and up his neck, glistening with beads of sweat and condensation from the steam clogging the air. His bottom lip swollen from where it's locked between clenched teeth, neck straining and biceps bulging from his harsh grip on your body. He has enough sense of reality to slip the hand around your throat into your hair, gathering the strands in a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of the way of the mess he’s about to make.

He pulls out with seconds to spare against a tsunami of pleasure that begins to surge through his body, beginning in his balls and crashing outward to swamp his nerves. It ripples across his skull, raising goosebumps in its wake as it ebbs through his blood stream. Mingyu’s abdomen flexes as he fists his cock still slick with your combined arousal over your ass; thick streaks of his seed rushing forward. You feel a hefty rope land between your shoulder blades, the sticky heat intoxicating as it trickles down your back. A few drops sputter on the dip of your spine and your hand still spreading you wide, decorating you in his own diamonds.

Mingyu can’t help the way he stares at your hole, obsessed with how you clench around nothing like you’re missing something. He wishes he was watching you squeeze around his dick, his cum dripping out of you with each pulse of muscle. Maybe someday he’ll get to.

As your orgasms subside, weariness circles on the edge of your senses. Two sets of eyes flutter shut, chests heaving and hearts beating in time. Unwinding his hand from your hair, Mingyu lets it gently rest next to your hip on the counter, preventing him from collapsing against you and into the sticky residue he’s left. He can’t feel his legs, head empty of coherent thought. Unconsciously, his thumb traces the dimple at the base of your spine, the gentle caress grounding him to his body. 

The quiet of the bathroom is only disturbed by the hum of the overhead fan. You both are spent, muscles weak and nerves fried. Occasionally a deep breath interrupts but it's peaceful as you bask in each other's presence. 

“Oh my god,” you pant, breaking his trance. 

“Hmm?”

“How did you get cum on the mirror?”

#svthub #svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #dghe couple #🫡 highvern #not seeing heaven for this one I fear

[thegnomelord]

Missing You

CW: NSFW, sub bottom Soap, dom top Reader, phone sex, masturbation, dirty talk, edging, sex toy, dom/sub. Quick and rough but that's how the horny strikes.

Like always, asks/requests are open :Dd

You've been gone on a mission for nearly a month now, and Soap doesn't know what to do with himself. Even when you text him sporadically to tell him you're alive, sometimes he feels like a housewife, stuck awake late at night wondering if you'll return to him as a pair of dog tags.

And even later at night he can't help thinking of what you'll do to him when you come back, ravage him until he's drooling and his brain is leaking from his ears.

As days turn to weeks he finds himself trying and trying to jerk off to no avail. No matter how much he tries he can't seem to get himself off while you're away; he could fuck his cock into his fist until his skin's rubbed raw and his balls are so full they feel like they'll explode but nothing ever comes out. His body is just so used to having your body over his and your scent in his nose and just your presence near that it can't cum without it.

Pure need breeds desperation and has him finding himself at your door in the middle of the night. It's locked, but he has the key. He's quick to shimmy his way inside, a happy little sigh escaping him when he huddles underneath the covers and your scent invades his nose. A stuttered breath leaves him as he gropes his stiff cock underneath his shorts, burying his nose into your pillow and breathing in deep until his lungs are full of you and his brain is buzzing nicely.

He tries to get himself off like that, doesn't take him much to stroke himself to full mast but even surrounded by your scent he can't cum. It's like there's a blockage at the base of his cock that's not letting anything put pre-cum out while he humps his fist until tears prickle his eyes.

A thought pops into his mind and without even thinking he's fishing his phone from his pocket and dialing your number without thinking of what time of the day is on your end. Holding the phone in one hand and cock in the other he nibbles on his lip as he waits for you to pick up. Hopes you will pick up.

"Johnny?" Your voice is slurred with sleep, giving it a deep base rumble that sends a nice shiver down spine.

"Bonnie..." He breathes out and bites his lip to hold back a groan, cock twitching in reaction from just your voice. "Fuck, ah missed yea."

You hum, still half asleep. "Missed you too Johnny. How have you been?"

"Good." He breathes out, worrying his lip between his teeth as he strokes himself. "Just been mighty bored since you left lil' ol' me alone."

You can hair faint shuffling on the other end, but not his usual chatter. Normally when you call each other Soap will prattle on and on for as he can, but this time he is strangely silent save for his shuddered breath. "Soap... where are you?"

He freezes and sucks in a breath, "In yeh room."

"Johnny." The way you say his name sends a shiver down his spine and he begins stroking himself again, pinching and squeezing the head of his poor cock in the same way you do. "Did you miss me this much?"

"No shite." A small sound escapes him, a mixture of a curse and something more animalistic. "Ah try 'an wank off but every time I try it's-" A familiar hellish feeling in his balls, like something close to pain but not quite, has him cutting his sentence short.

"Poor boy," You coo, "Can't cum without me there, can you? Got you so trained to cum with my cock up your ass you can't do it without something nice and big stretching you out, hmm?"

Your words have embarrassment flooding his system and a small stream of pre leaking from his red angry tip, "'S your fault, fockin' wanker." He curses, burying his head into your pillow while quickly stroking his cock. He'd be embarrassed about what your voice does to him if he wasn't so damn horny. "Fix yer mess."

"Want to cum so badly don't you?" You stall just for a second, your mind birthing a devious idea. "Alright sweetheart, check under the bed for me."

Your request confuses him. "What for?" Still, he's a good boy, he does as he's told no matter how much it hurts to let go of his dick. Even just the sheets rubbing against his poor dick has him whimpering from overstimulation, but he manages to reach beneath your bed and finds a small discrete box.

"Just a gift for you." Your smirk carries over the phone and you can just imagine his expression when when he opens the box.

Inside the box is a dildo. It's firm in his hand as he picks it up, heat pools in his stomach as he recognizes the tip he'd spend hours suckling on, as he traces each realistic vein with his fingers the same way he'd do with his tongue, as he rubs the silicone balls like he'd worship the actual ones; It's molded from your actual dick.

"Oh you sick fuck." He breathes out, but there's not a single hint of disgust in his breathless voice. "Did yea make it so's yea could fock yourself?"

"Funny." Your two share a small chuckle, "If you're not careful I'll make one of yours and lock the real thing away. Not like you use it much."

He never knows if you're serious or kidding but the subtle threat in your tone has his dick throbbing all the same. He manages an indignant "Oi!" before his voice pitters out when he finds your second surprise.

"Thought you'd want something to remember me by." You can't hide your amusement when he finds your underwear. After you'd caught him masturbating with his face shoved in a pair of your underwear he'd nicked, you'd gone out of your way to wear one pair each time you went to the gym and didn't wash it.

"Oh bile yer heid." He huffs but he's already rolling on his side with your underwear pressed close to his nose. He breathes in deep until he can taste the heavy tang of your musk on his tongue, arousal burning hot in his veins.

"I'll take it you like it." You chuckle, "Go on sweetheart, you know what to do."

"Aye." He shuffles until shimmy his shorts off, having not even bothered with wearing boxers. He shifts so his knees are close to his chest, the phone pressed between his ear and the pillow so he can use both hands. "C'mon, keep yappin'. Need tah hear yea." He feels so high-strung begging like this, but it just makes heat burn hotter in his cock when he brings the silicone dildo to his puckered hole that's already wet from when he'd tried to finger himself to an orgasm.

"Oh, sweetheart," With your voice ringing in his ear and your scent in his nose and the weight of your sheets over his half naked body he almost feels like you're right there. If he closes his eyes he imagine it's your cock poke against his hole and your body swallowing his. "Let me guess, you're already wet huh?"

"Know me so well." He breathes out and slowly pushes the dildo against his hole until the head finally slips past the ring of muscle. He's rougher than you'd be but his body is so desperate to feel you that the cock slips in easily, his walls clenching greedily around every familiar vein.

You croon praises in his ear as he sets a deep and fast pace, biting your underwear between his teeth to muffle his pathetic mewls while pounding his hole. But it's not enough, even with every single one of his senses full of you it's not enough. His arm's starting to cramp the longer he fucks himself, twisting and angling the dildo in a desperate attempt to catch his prostate, his hips twitching back to when he bottoms out so he can feel the fake balls slap against his own.

"Shit- It's not enough, fock, please." He shifts his head just enough to beg, huffing in your scent.

"What's wrong Soap, can't fuck yourself like I can?" He groans at your words, biting the wet fabric of your underwear again when he finally manages to graze his prostate. His cock's leaking like a faucet, easing the glide of his fingers when he grabs it to stroke himself until he's whining from the stimulation coming from both ends.

His balls ache and fire burns in his stomach every time he bottoms out, his thighs shaking with the need to cum. "Nae, you fock me so good-" He pants, pleas both in English and Gaelic falling from his lips until you can barely understand anything aside from pure need.

"Go on Johnny, you can cum."

Your permission is all it takes for him to tip over the edge, hole spasming around the dildo and cum spurting like a firehose from his cock and his sight going white. Weeks upon weeks of unresolved tension all escaping him as waves of euphoria pulse through him, leaving him shaking from his orgasm.

"There you go, good boy." Your voice brings him back from the peaks of heaven, his breathing heavy and uncoordinated. "How do you feel?"

"Fockin' perfect." He slurs and has just enough strength to slip the fake cock from his hole and toss it somewhere on the floor. "Felt like ah was ready ta blow." A loud yawn leaves him and his eyes feel heavy when he hears your voice again.

"Get some sleep Johnny, I'll be back by the time you wake up."

"I'll hold yea to it." A dumb little smile tugs on his lips and he nuzzles his head into your pillow, drifting off to sleep.

#cod mw2 #x reader #male reader #top male reader #centerpieces of the hoard #sub john soap mactavish #soap x male reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod x male reader #soap mw2 #soap mactavish

[suguruplsr]

Five kisses! Collect em’ all!

featuring.. Gojo Satoru

✰ ✰ ✰ Satoru tells a story to his students about how him, of all people, had the "most trying" time of his life. Which was trying to make the move of your first kiss in high school. Who knew dating the quiet cute girl in their little group was so hard? Yet, the ring on his ringer proves it was worth it..

,, x wife!reader , fluff , you guys play uno & monopoly , satoru is a simp!

↬ 1K Event Masterlist

wc: 4.8k+

— divider @/benkeibear

satoru’s eyes flickered to your form, you were washing the dishes after everyone had their fill. well, for lunch at least.

the kids (teenagers) were finally coming back into the house, after nobara and megumi had chased down yuji, who called nobara a “no-no word”, as you put it, and ran away using one of megumi’s demon dogs.

let’s just say.. yuji’s gonna need to use all of satoru’s products to get clean, much to his dismay.

“this is why you should just keep your mouth closed next time!” nobara huffs, her hands on her hips as she scolds yuji, who was slumped on your precious floor, all dirty with twigs and leaves in his head. “not my fault you’re such a..” yuji almost bites back, but pausing with the faucet in the kitchen abruptly stops.

“you’re such a, what itadori?”

you step out the kitchen, drying your hands with a towel as nobara beams at you with a smile, while megumi gives a shy wave and yuji pouts. “nothing, ma’am!” satoru chuckles as yuji fixes his posture, standing up and gesturing for the boy to follow, “i’ll let you use my shower before my wife’s floor gets dirty..” he sighs, giving you a quick peck on the lips while the boy follows..

after satoru got yuji situated, he was greeted with the sight of you and the other two teens sitting at the table, playing a game of uno. nobara across from you and megumi on your right side.

“when did you guys have your first kiss?”

nobara suddenly asks, giving you a.. suspicious? look, you’re not sure, but it made a giggle leave your lips. kids these days.. “maybe about a month into our relationship..?” you ponder with a confused tone, rubbing your chin and placing down a +4, making megumi scoff in frustration.

“actually! it took me nearly a year! just for me to get a kiss with you!” satoru jumps in the conversation with a huff, a hand on his chest and looking awfully offended. you and megumi give each other looks as nobara claps her hands in excitement. “wait really!? please tell me all about it sensei!”

and you give a sigh in exasperation as satoru sits at the dinner table on your other side, dusting himself off, fixing his hair, all that dramatic stuff and clearing his throat. “i guess i can tell a few stories..”

“the first time we kissed was—“

“wasn’t that indirect..?”

“honey! ahem, anyways.. it was in our second year of highschool, exactly one month of dating and on a sunny day..”

you two were at a small cafe that suguru recommended, dining on desserts and drinks that satoru was willingly paying for. he took you there after reminding you that it was your one month anniversary. and honestly, you weren’t sure why it was a big deal to him, not that it didn’t matter to you, but seeing how excited he was about it was a bit endearing.

really cute.

satoru watched you, who was sipping on a strawberry milkshake all in one go. you must be content, he thought. considering you’re all silent, which isn’t new, and just sipping the drink with your eyes closed. he almost wanted to make a joke about it, but he didn’t want to ruin your enjoyment. it’s was a big day after all! and he had to keep his girl happy as much as he could.

and as soon as you’re finished, head down and suffering from a, very much worth, brain freeze, he’s chuckling, “want some more?” “n-no thank you..” you murmured, feeling woozy from the headache and satoru thought you were so adorable. still are. he loves seeing these little sides of you.

when you were feeling a bit better, you grabbed a cup cake with vanilla icing and sprinkles. and satoru was cheesing, smiling from the way your eyes lit up. it felt refreshing to see you make more expressions rather than the stoic and unbothered look you always had. “want some?” you offered, feeling a bit awkward because of his prying eyes, but you didn’t catch the way he gave a sly grin, “of course!”

but he stopped your hand that went for another cupcake, instead licking some of the icing off yours. “satoru!” you scoff, watching in disbelief as he licks his lips, a cocky grin playing on them. “tasty~ i want s’more..” and you pulled away before he could take a huge bite out of the desert. turning to your side and quickly trying to eat up the cake.

satoru giggles, amusement flickering under those glasses of his as you ate up the delicious food. he was drinking his lemonade when you turned back to face him, somehow able to withstand the sour drink, but as you set aside the decorative liner, he realized that was your first kiss, along with a warming feeling forming inside him. his first kiss.

“..well yea..indirect. of course.” satoru chuckles nervously.. pouting at the loud sigh megumi gave.

“i think holding a girl’s hand is more intimate than that..” nobara has a stone face, giving you a look that says, ‘this guy?!’ and you shake your head, muttering a, ‘unfortunately..’

“he was and is, a loser. oh, uno.” megumi sits back, holding up his one card left as you and nobara give each other another look, determination. a little help won’t hurt right?

“maybe you should tell them that time you tried to pin me..” you suggest, holding back the laugh that almost escapes from the whip of nobara’s head, slamming down her red. “tried!? geez, of course someone like you failed to swoon mrs.gojo!” that girl’s expressive.. and satoru scoffs, standing up. “well considering her surname, i clearly did something!” “okay kids. let’s all settle down..”

you chuckle, lips curling in a way that makes megumi facepalm. how do you just so happen to have another +4? oh and nobara put down a reverse. “i quit..” he mutters angrily, how does he have no reds? this game must be rigged..

“now now! you have to hear the next story before my wife beats you! oh, along with that brat of course..” satoru makes a ‘pssh’ sound, turning away to dodge the look nobara sent him. “how about i tell this one..?.” you interrupted, drawing a card once you realized you were out of reds. “please do. maybe hearing the downfall of that sucker will lighten my mood..” megumi murmurs, making nobara snicker and satoru groan, scoffing and looking over to you for help.

“well, on this day, it was maybe a few weeks after the first ‘kiss’. we were having a small argument and..”

and the reason why you were giving satoru the silent treatment was because of a joke he made about you being weak, considering the scar you gained from a mission. stupid boys and their stupid jokes.

which led to you avoiding him.

“did satoru mess up already..” suguru muttered, his eyes flickering between you, who sat between him and shoko, and satoru who sat at the other end beside shoko. his body was slumped on the table, face smushed in as his eyes stayed on you. how downbad can a guy get?

“i guess so.. y/n?” shoko looked at you expectantly, gesturing for you to look at the pouty boy. but you only huffed at the sight, “he looks like a dog. like a skinwalker.” oh he definitely did something wrong. you never took the initiative to insult someone, even when you’re mad.

and satoru was ashamed, his love, his sweetness, his darling, his soulmate.. called him a skinwalker. he’d never recover from this.. and hasn’t.

“she didn’t lie..” suguru snickered, making satoru give a whine, “hey!” but you pay no attention to him despite suguru and shoko’s comments. you stay focused on the music playing in your earbuds before yaga walks in and eventually you become immersed in the teachings that you didn’t notice the glances satoru gave you.

well more like, he never looked away?

it was so annoying that when lunch came, shoko had suggested that you wait in the classroom with satoru while she and suguru went to get some snacks. soon after, yaga walked out too, muttering something about needing a break from teenagers

you couldn’t take it. no one was here, and it was silent. if satoru was really sorry, why not say it now. “i’m just gon—“ the second you stand up, satoru’s beside you with a quickness, pinning your hands above you and against the window. you looked so pretty, eyes looking up at him in shock. and those glossy lips, he just wants to kiss you.

and sure, the solemn look on his face, and the tilt of his glasses showing the deep emotion with his eyes saddened you. for a split second.

but as a sorcerer, it’s normal to uh.. enact self defense.

satoru found himself on the floor, an aching kicked jaw and his hands twisted behind himself painfully. “oh my god— i’m sorry toru.. okay not really, but my bad.” you stammer, letting go of his wrists and helping him lay on his back. you turn him around to see a jacked up smile on his face. so silly.

“you finally talked to me..”

“what a loser..” “i know right, simp..” and yuji, who walked in during the story, only makes it worse, “if maki heard this, she’d have your head on a swivel sensei..” the three teens only keep going, all crowded together as they look at the ‘sad old man’.

you chuckle, “uno. and don’t be too hard on him. surely there’s a better story to tell, considering it took a year.” you give satoru a pointed look, clapping your hands in excitement while nobara and megumi groan. maybe megumi shouldn’t have reversed it with the hopes of you drawing..

you won!

“well since our dear yuji is back, i’ll go get the monopoly board.” satoru stretches, giving you a kiss on your forehead before going on a hunt for said board. “bleh, i can’t believe you settled down for someone like him.. no offense. but seriously, what convinced you that he was someone you wanted to stay with? for life y’know..” nobara’s small rant makes you pause, a tiny smile forming as you think about the question.

“well.. when you’ve known someone long enough, you become used to them, especially in dating. but satoru always makes me excited for a new day, it’s never the same and i enjoy being with him. even when we did have bad days, we still do. but i still wake up everyday thinking, ‘i want to spend the rest of my life with this man’, sure, there’s always better, but better won’t be my satoru.” you give a small chuckle at the looks of their confused faces, ready to change the topic.

but yuji’s giving a big grin, sliding in satoru’s seat and clapping his hands. “that’s so adorable mrs. gojo! i hope to find love like that one day!” and nobara agrees, putting a hand up to her chest, “that was so heartwarming! i feel lightheaded just from hearing someone explain their feelings like that!” she sighs, eyes closed with a dreamy smile. and megumi gives you a nod, “i’m sure that idiot would say the same.. you’re the only person i can ever see putting up with him..” and before you can give the teens a sweet response, satoru’s walking in with a box and another chair.

“you guys aren’t talking ab— get out of my seat itadori! that’s reserved for me!” he grumbles, quickly placing the box down before stomping over to the pink haired boy as you collect the cards. “oh c'mon sensei! how obsessed can you be?” yuji yelps as satoru picks up the chair he sat in, placing him to the side and scooting the chair he brought closer to you. “until the day i die.” satoru triumphs, a ditzy smirk playing on his face as he sets aside the deck of uno cards for you.

“i’ll tell another story. like the time we went to the carnival.. wait, did you even try to kiss me that time..?” and he chuckles nervously from your words, “maybe i should do the talking honey..” he falters as nobara face palms, “that’s the most common trope that always works! how do you even fail.. i could see if she rejected you but seriously sensei..” and megumi makes a noise of agreement, opening up the monopoly board and letting everyone choose their respective characters.

“maybe we should let him talk first before we judge..” yuji gets a pat on the back from satoru, happy with his ‘support’.

“on our six month anniversary..”

“wait— you didn’t make a move for five months!” nobara buts in, making you laugh. “don’t worry, i actually banned him from touching me after he poured honey in my hair.” and they all gasp, eyes darting to each other and then to the man in question.

“before you grab that hammer— let me at least explain this story.. during the fall, at the beginning of our third year in highschool, we..”

you two went to the carnival downtown that opens every fall. at first, satoru thought it was just a place for those cringey couples to go make out on the ferris wheel, but after shoko gave him the idea that you two could have your date there. he gained a plan.

it was two months since you allowed him to show you physical affection, and he’d be damned if he messed this up. you two walked around, going to all of the stands and games. along with a few rides that satoru almost threw up from, afterwards.

but there was one last thing.

“we’re about to get on..” you murmured, eyes stuck on the big ferris wheel. it was very high up in the sky, and sure you’ve been higher, but maybe the simple fact that you were doing normal couple things left you a bit amazed. but your boyfriend carrying you up in the sky in the late hours of night was a bit cooler. satoru chuckles, fixing his jacket on you and trying to make sure the cold air wouldn’t reach you. considering he didn’t want to use his ability in such an open and crowded place.

“make sure you pay attention, kay? someone people said it’s beautiful up there.” he smiled, letting you enter the cart first before following in. as the worker closed the door, he noticed the dazed look of love swirling in the boy's eyes.

ah, young love.

he gave satoru a small wink before starting the ride, you guys wait a few minutes, moving slowly up as other cars slowly get loaded. eventually, you guys are high up, not at the top, but enough to see the lights of cities and other attractions during the evening sky. “pretty..” you murmur, stuck on the beautiful sight of the skyscrapers.

and in perfect cliche fashion..

satoru’s eyes stay still on you, enamored by the expression of amazement on your face. “yeah..” he responds quietly, eyes stuck on the way the lights and stars seem to dance around your eyes. nothing could ever compare to this.

suddenly, the worker makes an announcement about the wheel going in one full rotation. and satoru can see the way your lips twitch to form into a bigger smile, big eyes turning to him. “i can’t wait to get to the top.” you grin, moving closer to the back and holding onto the open window. and maybe your excitement radiated to him because his heart was getting faster, hands shaky as he slid to the end of the seat, sitting in front of you.

satoru’s mind was racing, stuck on how he would execute such an important moment with you, but he was forced to just wing it when you tugged on his sleeve, pulling him closer and gesturing to the view before you. “satoru!” you giggle, pulling him closer to the window. the sky was purple, blending well with the blinking and glowing lights of colors. it was the perfect moment.

his hand goes for your chin, tilting your head towards him. He mutters your name, diverting your attention. and the absolute look of adoration made your heart flutter. you could see a light blush coating his face, his glasses tilted and and his fingers moving hesitantly. such a dork. a pretty one at that.

“i’ve been wanting to try this for a while now y’know..” he was nervous as hell, eyes looking everywhere but yours. but you bring his hand down from your chin, holding it close to you. “that is?” and satoru might’ve been ascending to heaven just from the sweet tone of your voice. it was almost as if you knew what he wanted. “well i wanted to ask if we could—“

“we’re sorry to announce that the power of this ride has gone out. please stay calm everyone while we fix this.”

and the absolute terror filling your eyes made satoru curse the worker in his head. pulling you to his side and holding you close. no one would’ve noticed if he teleported away right?

fuck carnivals

“and she’s still scared of going on ferris wheels to this day..” satoru sighs, giving a smile when you glare at him, having half the mind to take away the fake five-hundred dollar bill you just gave him. maybe you will later, it’s a good thing you chose to just be the banker.

“i guess we won’t be going to the fair this fall..” yuji sighs, giving a small pout as nobara rolls the dice. “man.. honestly, i blame it on the worker.” “same.” megumi chimes in, watching as she lands on his property. “that’ll be one-hundred and fifty.” he practically shoves the card in her grumbling face, making her swat it away. “i’m going broke! i’m just a girl!” she cries, making you cover your laugh, she only had two-hundred dollars left.

she hands the dice to megumi as satoru rubs his chin. “there was a time where we played in the snow, i think that was attempt number four..” his words make the teens cringe, “sensei.. that’s a long time.” yuji murmurs, making nobara nod along. “i said that! and to think you thought it took a month..” you give a light chuckle as he looks at you with squinted eyes, pouting.

“i actually think ms. ieiri told me about that story..” megumi ponders, moving his little figure across the board before giving satoru the dice. “oh really? what did she say?” he perks up, and suddenly you remember an embarrassing memory. surely it wasn’t that time..?

“apparently there was layers of snow, but you all still had to go to school..”

“yea, i remember me and her..”

walked through that snow. yea, you read that right. satoru never had thoughts on snow, only that it was a reminder of his childhood. but when you walked out your dorm room suited up in warm clothing, with large boots and a cute little beanie covering your head, he couldn’t help but want to indulge in your little fun.

“did you really turn infinity off?” you smile, he was behind you, but you could hear the soft crunches of snow as he took big steps through it. “yea, for some reason you like this.” satoru shrugged, leaping a bit to walk beside you. compared to you, he was only in a light jacket, considering he didn’t wear anything to prepare for the cold. but you dressed him up in it so he couldn’t say no.

“it’s fun. as sorcerers, we don’t really get to experience like.. regular things. if that makes sense. i know you probably understand it like wayy more than i do, being one of the strongest and all.. but the little things count to me.” your words made satoru actually think, for once.

and you were right, he does understand, and just as the snow reminds him of his childhood, it reminded him of the small slices of life he’d experience during the winter. like his mother telling the maids to change his orange juice for a hot cocoa. it was most likely because of health concerns, but he always felt a little bit more loved at the smell of it.

satoru inched closer, grasping your double gloved hand. “you should make a list.. like a bucket list.” he suggested and it made you turn to him with a smile, beginning your small rant of things you’d like to do. things he’d never forget. you two approach the doors of the school, pushing through the snow that seemed to have piled higher.

“while it's snowy, we should go sn—“ a loud ‘plap!’ sound rings in his ears, making him turn to see your face planted in the snow. “pfff..” satoru snorted. turning his head before crouching down and picking up your head. “you good?” he grinned, seeing your messed up face covered in bits of snow and grass, “no..” you coughed as he wiped off your face, your blinking and dazed eyes staring back at him.

you’re so pretty, he thought. it’s actually criminal. the way you were so out of it, shaken up from the fall and just looking up at him, sometimes glancing away, as he took his time fixing you up. his hands found your cheeks, cold to his touch. maybe his hands were too from the way you almost recoiled from the contact.

“you're staring more than usual..” you murmured, looking down and listening to his breathless laugh. “yea? i like looking at art.” and you rolled your eyes, looking back at him and lightly hitting his chest. “you think you’re sooo smooth huh?” and he wraps an arm around your neck pulling you beside him with a cheeky grin. maybe he could’ve shown you just how smooth he is.

satoru looks at your lips for a brief second before meeting your eyes again. “maybe i do..” he speaks with a whisper, heart dropping as your lips part with a chuckle, unknowingly moving closer to him.

‘pah!’

a hard snowball had hit satoru’s face, his body plopping on the ground as you looked off into the distance with a laugh. “that wasn’t very nice shoko!” you giggled, waving at the brown haired girl who gave a grin, another snowball ready to be thrown in hand. “i’m still here y’know..” satoru huffs, feeling the sting of the ball on his cheek.

you helped him up with a smile. “she got you good.”

“good in-fucking-deed..”

“ouch..” yuji mutters as satoru picks his chance card, “honestly.. that’s kinda sad.” nobara shrugs, “yea, im starting to think their wedding day was their first kiss.” megumi’s statement makes you laugh, watching as satoru eagerly advances to “go”, giving you an expectant look for his two-hundred dollars.

“we did eventually share that moment. but you kiddos are too young to hear that.” satoru claims, waving his now, two-thousand and nine-hundred dollars in front of them. “oh please!” nobara and yuji jinx, and you can almost hear their signature, ‘you owe me a soda!’ , ‘no i don’t!’ , banter in the distance but they must be too distracted to think about it.

“well, i'll take the pleasure of telling the story of how we got interrupted, before our first kiss. then we can make some cupcakes while your sensei makes dinner.” you sigh, praying to yourself that you have the ingredients and more just from the looks of excitement forming on their faces. is that drool coming out of yuji’s mouth?

“huh, so it only took five times? it took him seven years to marry you..” megumi turns away as satoru gives him a look. yuji rolls the dice while nobara gives you a small smile, “your words from earlier make more sense mrs. gojo.. considering you stayed without a ring for that long.” and satoru glares at nobara, “actually! she was my fiancé for a year!” “so someone as spontaneous and dumb as you took that long to prepare a wedding?!” “yea that’s right!”

you could never get bored of them.. you watch as yuji gives a small glance to the older man, before looking at you. he landed on satoru’s property, and the said man didn’t even notice. he was way too busy arguing with nobara.

but, house rules are..

you put a finger to your lips, smiling as he hands nobara the dice. man, and satoru was waiting for someone to land on his upgraded property. yuji dodged a bullet with that one. “before you cut each other's head off. i’m very happy nobara. so don’t worry, i’ll let you know when he needs a nail to the head.” “honey!” “of course mrs. gojo!” nobara is all smiles, clapping her hands before rolling the dice. while satoru looks at you. he notices a cat token around one of his properties, “wait—“

“back to the story, i remember it was near spring. still a—“ “my love i think—“

“satoru.”

“sorry, keep going my love.”

“as i saying, it was still a bit cold..”

and satoru was able to convince you to not wear those excessive coats, instead just wearing one of his hoodies that he was sure you’d take off once it would get hotter later in the day. on that day, you two were walking around a park filled with little people, admiring the beautiful trees and flowers that leave signs of early spring.

“we should have a picnic here.” you murmured, lost in thought as you gazed at the fallen petals, filled with variations of yellow, orange, and pink. almost like a sunset. but satoru always found this to be your best angle. when you’re not paying attention, and you're appreciating the beauty of something. because that always gave him the chance to appreciate your beauty.

“yea? i guess that’d be pretty..” satoru had trailed off, his arm around your neck pulling you close with his eyes unfocused and just staring at the way you stopped to look up at him in confusion. “pretty?” “pretty.” and you giggle, bringing a hand up to the one on your side, “you okay toru?” and he hummed, intertwining your fingers.

“let’s go over there, that’s the biggest tree.” he looked over to where you pointed at. just further down the path was a large yellow tree, below it were leaves and petals of the flowers surrounding the area. a nice sight. just not on your level of absolute gorgeousness. “lead the way.” he let you walk in front of him, not missing the way one of your hands still found him along.

his heart was doing somersaults, dancing around his chest in happiness as you two silently approached the scenery. you pulled him down before his head could hit one of the branches, giggling when he looked up at it with an annoyed expression, lips tucked out in his signature pout. you two sat by each other under the tree, having a light conversation about what you two would bring for a picnic.

but you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes always flickered away from yours, slight below to your lips. then he’d look away hesitantly. and when you thought about it, you realized you’ve seen him like that multiple times. “toru.” you say a bit louder, catching his attention. you hoped your assumption was right, or else your next words would’ve been embarrassing.

“why don’t you just ask me?” you smiled, watching how the gears turned in his head. his head turning away and his hands covering his face. “you know..?” satoru whispered, trying to cover the blush that had begun to bloom. but he couldn’t escape you. not with those tinted ears of his. “mhm.. but you’re not gonna get a kiss if you don’t ask.” you huffed, giving him a teasing look as he faced you again.

“okay.. can i pleaseeee, pretty pretty pretty pleaseeee kiss youuuuu?” satoru whined, over exaggerating his words as he leaned closer to you. the tuffs of his hair brushed your head as you chuckled. “yes, you dork.” and he grins, hands finding your chin just like how it is in those rom-coms he watched. he hesitated, but your warm smile felt like a welcoming for him to take those lips of yours. despite already asking.

he tilts his head, muttering a reassuring ‘okay’ to himself before you both leaned in. but rather than feeling each others lips. you both blink awkwardly at the feeling of a rough texture blocking your lips.

a leaf.

in sync, you both pulled away, gagging at the taste on your lips. but undeniably, your hearts raced, embracing the fact that you two almost kissed. and just as satoru was thinking that the odd leaf had killed the mood, you tapped his shoulder. fiddling with his clothing, shy.

“how about we try that again?”

#jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x fem!reader #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk x you #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujustu kaisen fluff #satoru x you #satoru x reader #jujutsu satoru #satoru gojo #satorugojo

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could I request headcanons of Jason Todd with a reader who is a talented chef and baker?

Jason loves, loves, loves to eat but he loves to eat whatever you make especially.

It’s just so damn good and enticing that he can’t help but want to steal a bite while you were working your magic on some cookie dough in the kitchen.

Jason likes to claim he’s helping you when in actuality he was just being a little shit.

You still remembered the time where you had caught Jason red hand eating something he shouldn’t have, and still have the audacity to look at you with his attempt at puppy dog eyes.

He should be lucky you like him enough to make him whatever he wanted in bulk, seeing as how he had quite the appetite as you’ve once watched him wolf down four homemade burgers, chips and still found room in his stomach to indulge in something sweet.

You couldn’t count how many times you had to swat him away with your spatula when you saw his hand creeping towards a cooling tray of gooey double chocolate chip cookies.

‘Jason!’ You exclaimed. ‘Stop trying to eat the cookie before they’ve had time to cool down!’

‘But sweetheart it’s not my fault that your cookies are so good! They even maintain that gooey chocolate chip goodness that you know I like.’ Jason says as he hugs you from behind, pressing kisses into your shoulder, neck and head.

‘You’re just buttering me up so that I’d give you an early taste.’ You pouted, looking away from him as you feigned hurt. ‘Admit it, you’re only with me for the fact that I can cook and bake your favourite things.’

Jason, feeling a little bad for making you think that, was quick in having you look at him as he apologised. ‘I’m sorry chipmunk, you know I love you beyond your ability to cook food and sweet treats and make it look like an art form. How about I help you cook tonight or let me took for you instead to make up for it?’ He asks as he kept you close to him and planting kisses across your face.

His lips tasted very much like the chocolate chip cookies and after a while you just couldn’t keep up pretending to be mad at him and smile into his lips as you kissed him back before inevitably pulling away. ‘That sounds perfect jay bird but let me cook and you just stand there and look pretty.’ You cheeked as Jason gasped.

‘You only like me because I’m pretty? How shallow of you chipmunk.’ Jason joked and you couldn’t help but kiss his lips once more. ‘I like you because you’ve got a bottomless stomach.’ You then playfully prodded at his tummy and Jason jolted at the touch, which made you laugh as you went back to what you were previously doing before Jason interrupted.

‘Can I at least have a nibble?’ Jason asked after a moment of silence against your neck.

‘No, I think you’ve already had enough nibbles don’t you?’ You asked with a smile as you felt Jason pout.

‘Mean.’ He muttered childishly.

‘Mean is you eating the cookie dough and saying oops after I caught you.’ You replied and Jason stayed silent after that.

Jason hyped up your cooking and baking simultaneously and would praise your natural talent for it to anyone with ears to hear him, which had lead to one or many instances where his friend Roy or his family came over to see what all the hype was about.

Needless to say you’ve gotten more people who were obsessed with your baking/cooking and as for Alfred? You were sharing recipes and what techniques you use when prepping food, the usage of spices and herbs and so on in hopes of enhancing the flavour of the dish.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc fic #dc comics x reader #dc x y/n #dc fanfiction #jason todd imagines #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #red hood imagines