#LIKE A DOG TOY

[xyumichux]

The sassy robot bunny ⚙️🎀🩷

[mus1ca1]

i get the feeling a lot of you just want to

[sanchoyoscribbles]

mewsona redesign + fursona redesign :) still conversation hearts as the food for my mewsona, they are mew heart for short, and infused with a sunbear <3 my fursona is a Stuffed Animal Bear tho. important distinction 🧸

[doroinoue]

brainrot so bad i see a lizard anywhere of any breed and go Kaimaannnnnnnm^___^❤️. I need to be shot

[sovawife]

this keychain is so cute... his little owl.... he looks like a plushie..

[stinkytrashman]

i wanna chew on megatron just a little bit. just a lil nibble. just a smidge m'lord tis all I ask

[my-darling-boy]

Convinced the husky that lives in the house behind us is just a sentient stuffed toy or the other way around

[ragsy]

i don't need to explain myself you all know what i'm talkin about

[unfrozenpeas]

its definitely permanent marker

[mothgenes]

i need to psychoanalyze him fr .

[intergalacticinsect]

I AM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH

my love has no direction (and my anger is a vice)

love is not designed for the cynical - series masterlist here

pairing: jason todd x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1k

genre: hurt/comfort, angst (happy ending)

warnings: reader is physically injured but it doesn't specify the cause, jason is big protective and tries so so hard to be gentle

a/n: alright alright y'all know the drill there's more written lemme know if you want it

You're staring at your reflection in the mirror, gnawing your bottom lip as you wonder how you'll explain the bruises across your cheekbone and around your eye. You hope, somewhere in the back of your mind, that Jason doesn't get back when he says he will - that whatever work he's away doing as Redhood will take just a few extra days and you'll heal enough to be able to hide it.

Your thoughts screech to a halt, though, when the man himself steps into the doorway of the bathroom and lets his duffle bag drop to the floor when he sees you.

"Who the fuck did this to you?" Jason questions immediately as he stares at you, his eyes trailing over your form, scanning for more injuries. Instinctively, you go to cover your wrist and forearm, cursing internally when you realize that the only thing that did was bring his attention to the hand-shaped bruises littering your skin.

"Hi," you say quietly. "...how was your trip?" Jason all but snarls and stalks toward you, bringing his hand to your face so that he can gently, gently, hold your chin with his thumb and forefinger and tilt your head, examining the bruises. You can tell he's noticed the small cuts from rings making contact with your skin when his jaw clenches even more and his eyes focus on yours.

"Baby," he starts, and the edge in his voice makes you still. He's angry, you realize, in a way you've never seen before. It's right there, under the surface, straining to get out, and the only thing stopping it is the fact that you haven't given him a direction to shoot in yet. "You are not going to pretend this is fine. We are not ignoring this. You need to tell me what happened."

"I know, Jase," you respond, shoulders slumping. You're tired, he realizes, and it's most likely that the adrenaline of whatever happened is wearing off. He slides an arm around you and lets you lean into him, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "I just… I'm not just deflecting, you know. You're okay? Everything went okay?"

"Nothing worse than some scrapes" he soothes, going to wrap his other arm around your waist. You flinch, though, small enough that he wouldn't notice if he wasn't so attuned to you. But you're you, his person, and every fibre of his being is trained on you right now. So, of course, he notices. He notices the way you ever so slightly suck in a breath and tense in his arms.

"Baby…" he begins. You drop your gaze away from his. "Let me see, yea? We can wait to talk about what happened until you're ready, but I gotta make sure you're okay."

"I am okay," you mumble, still determinedly keeping your eyes away from his as you fiddle with the front of his Redhood armour.

"Can I check?" he prompts, and he's so gentle about it, so soft and caring and loving that it makes your bottom lip tremble. You nod in response and he presses a kiss against your forehead, murmuring thanks into your skin.

You step away from him so that you can begin to lift yourself onto the counter, but Jason makes a strained sort of noise and stops you, instead lifting you gently up onto it, keeping a careful eye on you to ensure he's not hurting you at all. Once you're sat on the counter, you spread your legs so that he can slot his hips between them and he places his hands on either side of your hips.

"Can I lift your shirt, sweetheart?" he asks softly and the whole thing, how kind and considerate he's being, chips away at you a little too much. Your breath hitches and your hands tighten their grip on the counter and you rip your gaze away from his.

"You just got home, Jase. You gotta be tired - why don't you shower, get out of your armour and stuff. We can do this later."

"Baby," Jason sighs as he cups your unbruised cheek in his palm and brings your face back to his. When you realize you can't avoid his gaze anymore you simply close your eyes, refusing to see the way he looks at you. "Can you look at me, sweetheart? Come on, hey, I'm here to keep you safe, yea? I'm gonna help you. I'm gotta make sure you're alright."

And that's all it takes for a sob to make its way out of your throat. You move to hide your face in your hands as you begin to cry, but Jason stops you gently, using a hand on the back of your head to guide you into his chest, letting you bury your face there and weep.

"Shh, shh, baby. It's okay. You go ahead and cry, get it all out. You're safe now, yea? I'm not gonna let anything happen to you." Jason soothes as your hands grab at the jacket that serves as the outer layer of his armour. Truth be told, he is tired. He was away for a week dealing with this job and he can feel the way his body is aching and his head is swimming with exhaustion. But none of that, nothing else in the world matters when he has you, bruised and bloody and weeping into his chest.

Truthfully, there's not much that scares him more than this, and seeing you in this state has him rattled, forcing his own tiredness to the back of his mind. You, his baby, who is always so brave and stoic, who he remembers as a teenager getting into street fights and laughing through a mouthful of blood on several occasions, is trembling in his arms from fear and exhaustion and he's not even sure what else because he doesn't know what happened and you're in no state to tell him. So all he can do is stand there, keeping you in his arms and whispering any sort of reassurance he can think of into your hair. His aching legs be damned, there is nothing, nothing, that is going to make him move an inch until you are good and ready.

[froggydraws]

hello may I interest you in my marinette dupain cheng propoganda

[fluffylino]

pussy agenda with minho

-contains mature themes

this man has to have his hands on you regardless of where y'all are.

subtle touches turn into full on outrageous groping.

you walk into the kitchen, intrigued by the dish he's busily cooking up for the two of y'all. he glances at you, blinking slowly and then rapidly.

"c'mere" and the tone he uses makes you think he needs your help to cut a few vegetables or stir the boiling hotpot. so you prance to him.

letting out a silent gasp when he sits on his haunches. pressing his lips over your covered crotch. and he stands back up, a satiated smile on his face.

"thank you, baby" and he feeds you a small chunk of stir fried chicken before pretending like nothing happened.

when i tell you he doesn't care if you don't shave, i mean it.

he doesn't care one bit.

"every one has hair down there. its natural, lets all die naturally!" is what he says.

"minho!" you can't help but laugh, smacking him.

"nothing is ever going to stop me from eating this goddamn pussy..." nudging you with his shoulder. his hand creeping over the waistband of your shorts.

"...infact i want to spread you open and fuck my tongue into your tight little cun-"

"we're in public! p-public!"

slapping your hand over his mouth. shutting him up before he can finish his downright filthy comment. he raises an eyebrow, swirling his tongue across your palm while his hand sneaks past your waistband.

you're happy its all under the table but its both nerve wracking. the pads of his fingers rubbing over your already wet cunt and the dirty whispers in your ear.

likes to backhug you randomly. his hands squeezing your ass. you're used to it but for some reason you aren't quite used to the way he trails his fingers up your thigh.

cupping your mound and manhandling you to bend over any surface. its all playful and you giggle until he nudges your panties to the side. sliding a digit against your folds.

"always so eager to have me" chuckling in your ear. his front pressed up into your backside.

"pretty cunt. all mine to touch and play with, am i right, baby?"

it works. turning you on and getting you wet in mere seconds. then he walks off, nonchalantly. sticking his fingers in his mouth and leaving you hanging.

don't worry, he just loves to hear you whine about how much of a dick he is.

give him ten minutes max and he'll eat you out like a man starved.

slurping, licking and sucking with pure need. its the same enthusiam everytime.

eating you out is part of his weekly routine. has to do it more than 2 times in a week or he throws a tantrum.

loves loves LOVES when you're compliant and encourage him to touch you.

like when he's driving. placing his hand on your upper thigh. smirks at the way your thighs part automatically, and he takes the chance to play with your kitty.

"can i kiss you on the lips?" minho whispers, and your heart melts. you smile as you pucker your lips, leaning in to kiss him but you jerk up in shock.

his head already between your legs. pulling your underwear down with his teeth. and before you can even process whats happening, his tongue slips between your folds.

hot breath fanning over your pussy. his nose bumping into your clit while he breathes in a deep breath. eyes fluttering and moaning unbashedly at your scent.

you're not even wet, he just loves how you smell in general.

"god, i love you so much. i love your beautiful, soft, warm cunt"

LOVES LEGIT LOVES when you sit on his face.

ESPECIALLY after he gets back home from dance practice. sweating and out of breath yet so ready to be suffocated by your weight on top of him.

"thats it, kitten. fuck yourself on my tongue. don't stop till i say so."

.

.

.

in conclusion, he gets pussydrunk so easily but refuses to acknowledge it.

[shotmrmiller]

kyle asking price and johnny what's up with simon having his earbuds in and phone in hand the moment they touch foot on base because before last week, he hadn't even known simon had a phone.

how did you think he got in contact with people?

i just figured he didn't.

anyway, price just shrugs and says, "gotta new girl or somethin'." johnny nods absently, lips twisted in thought.

"somethin' like tha'."

sure enough, come dinner time he can hear a higher pitched voice carrying a sense of urgency or excitement, he can't make out which it is, words coming out in a rapid fire manner.

accent is distinct too, colloquialism that hints at a different region or even country, peppered with slang he's only ever read online.

curious but it's nice to know someone's come to get to know the big man past his rough (and he means bloody rough) exterior.

he quickly tunes it out after, of course, not wanting to intrude on personal matters. but then it's a rare moment when simon's without them.

kyle manages to get snippets then.

(hey, love, just making some dinner; your favorite, actually. shrimp pasta alfredo.)

price taps him on the shoulder and he turns away, snapping back to reality. in the back of his mind, he vaguely remembers simon having an aversion to seafood.

he must be remembering wrong.

in the debrief room while they wait for price, he catches another.

(actually just finished unpacking the last of my stuff. you were a real help with this, i would've hated having to pay for movers.)

kyle recalls seeing simon haunting the hallway as per usual. he must've taken a time off.

on the way to the local strip club. why simon's there at all is a choice but his relationship with you is none of his business.

(yeah, uhm, i'm home and i checked the windows and bathroom like you taught me too. i still can't shake that feeling, yknow? i don't mean to worry you.)

since simon isn't talking to them about it, he must be getting rid of that issue soon. good on him. at least one of them gets to go back to a warm home and a soft pair of thighs.

(kyle doesn't question the other male voice in the call. nor does he question why simon isn't saying a word during it. simon's relationship with you is none of his business. he just hopes he'll get an invitation to the wedding.)

[mossymeep]

I've admired Lorroakan for years-

[rocketbirdie]

*breaking out into a cold sweat* i have GOT to draw more zakkura