#i was going to make a ''just think of it as a service dog'' joke but insurance doesn't cover service animals

[writingwisterias]

Dreams

Death Island! Leon Kennedy x GN! Reader Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hospital, Coma, Injury, Near Death, Fluff Summary: One Month to go before a well deserved early retirement and all he can think about is the future

If you like this then I'll give you all a big kiss because I worked hard making sure this one flowed correctly!!

An early retirement was something that he never envisioned for himself, his life never seemed like it would end in something he wanted to do. The grass in the back garden was finally tended, the flower beds blooming beautifully as he stood watching over it with a coffee in hand. It was peaceful, weird. Something he was never quite used to. The soft barks of the dog were loud as they echoed in the open space. His money that he saved was more than enough to treat himself to this space, though it often felt too lonely. Until he found you, the light of his life. You just slotted yourself into his world without even trying. You worked perfectly understanding his duties and responsibilities he had to fulfil. The dog was next, a retired police dog. A protector in case something went wrong whilst he was away but he didn’t need to worry about that anymore. Not when he could see you from where he was standing, playing in the long grass with the old boy. 

He could see your smile the way you would pet him as he brought the ball back. It felt too much like a dream, like he never actually went into the office and demanded his retirement early after yet another mission gone bad. He felt lost without his work, his service. Having to train his hands to do something else other than fight, survive and protect. No hobby seemed to stick, nothing seemed to fill the gap he was left with. It was strange that he would spend so many years hating on his service, his job to then wish for it back. The scars that littered served as a reminder of what he went through, his medals of service shown proudly in a display case that you insisted on making. He watched you look at him, the grin on your face only growing wider. Your hair glowing in the sunlight as it blew into the wind. 

He wanted to reach you, to step off the porch and race to you. Scoop you in his arms and run through the garden with you. The dog following behind you both barking happily. Yet, his feet didn’t move from the back porch. His hand only raised waving at you. You never came closer– some days it felt like you were further and further away. The garden seemed to grow longer each passing day, the line of flowerbeds changing every so often. 

You watched him, the light shining brightly on him. His skin that was once full of colour -- now laid pale looking even more sick underneath the white light of the hospital. That damn beep engraving itself into your brain. You were meant to be happy with it, it meant he was still here. His heart steadily beat as you watched over him. Your hand clutching his tightly that your fingers grew sore.

There were others in the room coming and going, offering you food - drink anything you needed. They couldn’t help you though because they can’t help him. You didn’t want to cry anymore or return to a home where his side of the bed was cold. You didn’t want to lie on his pillow in case his scent got washed away even though that beep was proof he could…will…return. “Wake up please” You whispered as you laid your head against the side of the hospital bed.

His hand was cold, it shouldn’t be cold. It’s never been cold except for the time he bounded over to you when you were playing in the snow, shoving the frozen fingertips against your stomach as a joke. You remembered that night, the first winter in your new house. The one he always wanted with a large garden to play around with, to host family and friends with BBQ's and other events.

One month was all he had left, of all his service. It had to be their version of a fuck you that his mission had to have been another dangerous one, they couldn’t have just given him a simple chase like they did a few years ago. Sure it ended up being tied into something more but it was simple. The government showed how much they thought of him when they sent him there healthy and brought him back in a coma.

Just one month.

One. 

There were no more tears to cry anymore, your eyes were puffy from the amount you had been crying. It wasn’t fair. That he was so close to finally being able to lead his own life now he tethered on the edge of it.

“Leon wake up please” You begged again, voice waving as anger laced it. How dare he set it all up to just end here? You knew he was fighting that irritating beeping was proof he was still here. You needed his presence, you needed him just like all those times he needed you. The others jumped up as you spoke again, watching you with sad eyes as you screamed at him. Begged him to come back. You didn’t care if the hospital staff forced you to leave, you would come back the next day and do it again. Until he woke up. 

Leon continued to smile despite wanting to walk towards you. His foot never seemed to land on the grass, only hover. He felt bad, ignoring your smile and your voice that called out to him in a sweet tone. He wanted to warn you of the storm he spotted, the one that was coming behind him. He could feel the cold air trying to rip you away from him. Trying to force him to come back inside. Leon couldn’t…not without you. “Come back!” He shouted. You couldn’t hear him, not over the wind or the disappearing sun. His heart beat wildly in his chest. If only he could step on the damn grass. 

The beeping grew louder, doctors began to pull you away but you continued to shout at him. Even from the corner of the room where Chris held you against him. All of you watching in horror as Leon thrashed around. His hands gripping the sheets. You didn’t know what was happening, your shouts turning into whimpers as you stared at him. Watched as they tended to him. Your voice hurts, your body hurts, everything hurts.

Why Leon? Why did it have to be him? 

Leon turned around towards the house, the thunder crackled louder. He knew he needed to head inside, his brain was conflicting with his heart. You would come back surely. You would round the dog up and bring him back inside. You’ll come running through the doors laughing as the two of you are soaked beginning to help him shut the doors against the harsh winds. You wouldn’t stay out there, you would have heard him. The anxiety bit into him as he walked closer to the safety of the house, was the main light always this bright? You would shout at him if he found out you turned this one on and not the lamps. Always one for ambience lighting. The thunder was so loud, booming as it roared above him. Once he was inside he turned to watch you running up the garden to meet him.

Only you were gone, the flower beds had changed again. 

The nurses and doctors backed away from the bed, their bodies no longer hiding him from your view. They spoke to you but you couldn’t hear them, not when those eyes stared at you again. Chris’ grip had loosened, your legs wobbled as you approached the bed. His stubble bit into your hand as you cradled his face. “Leon?” You whispered. He smiled. He was here smiling. Your name sounded so sweet coming from his lips. You didn’t realise you could cry anymore, you thought all the tears were gone. “Never do that to me again” You laughed as you brought him close. “Please” 

It wasn’t until later - when everyone had gone home. With genuine smiles this time not the pity ones you had been given the past few days. Leon held you against his chest, his fingers working their way through your hair. He had been quiet, the silence at first you thought was just him getting overwhelmed by the full room. Or the numerous tests the doctors were running on him to make sure everything was okay. Yet, it continued as he held you now. His brain elsewhere whilst he remained here with you. 

Leon was the quiet hero, the one that was constantly praised and reminded of his success but never allowed to process the loss he had experienced. The saviours guilt that landed deep inside every time someone else died on his watch. Hero's were given parties and parades in celebration for their wins. Congratulated and recognised on the streets for their service but not him. All the work he had done was in silence, encase somehow someone linked him back to that one night that changed his world. A dark shadow of his past that effects everything he has done. He did what he did out of the goodness of his heart, out of just wanting to help people despite the horrors and baggage he has gained along the way.

His actions spoke louder than any words, that was why you fell in love with him. Why you knew no matter what he would have come back to you. Leon didn't love quietly like he was a hero. He shouted it to the stars above you, screamed it to any person that asked about you. You were his entire world, everything that was worth fighting for was in that dream he had. The survivors guilt washed away for just a moment when you got that house and he finally realised that he deserved something good. A slither of happiness to outshine all the bad. That was you. It will always be you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You asked. He flinched at your break of the silence. Leon sighed, his head landing on the shit pillow he had propped up behind him. “I was dreaming…during the coma” he stated simply. His words followed by a comforting silence, the space for him right now was much like all the nights he would return from missions and hold you like this. Only that was in the safety of your home, not the cold hospital that never seemed to be just as silent as you wanted it. “We were home with a dog, an older service dog. I’d watch you play with him in the garden but each day you got further and further away. The garden seemed to grow bigger and I could never reach the end. I couldn’t step off the back porch to meet you” 

“Then there was a storm, I tried to call you inside but when I turned around you were gone and I was awake” he continued as did the silence that followed his words. The two of you are taking in the gravity of the situation. It was then you realized his idea of heaven was his ending with you, the home you were in the middle of building, the garden that still hasn't been tended to. 

“I shouted at you. Screamed even. Begging for you to wake up, to come back - not to let it end like this” you admitted quietly. Leon felt you shift so you were sat up on the bed, your legs laid out over his thighs. Your soft hands landed on his face again guiding him to look at you. The world seemed to disappear when you did, nothing else mattered except him. Not anymore. “I’m back” He whispered, smiling softly at you. His lips touched your palm and kissed them. They were warm again, as were his hands when they touched your wrists. His fingers entwine yours looking at the ring on your finger. The same one that matched his. You nodded to his statement. “Maybe my shouting was the storm, waking you up from your dream?” You spoke again, leaning against his chest. Your head tucked neatly underneath his chin. “Well your anger and love can sometimes be like a raging storm” he teased. 

He was back, finally. Your bed would be warm again, the house would feel like home once more. “At least your recovery period leads up to your final day. I don’t have to worry about this happening again” You giggled. Leon smiled, his own chuckle leaving his lips briefly. “You’re doing all the gardening though, I have an idea for what it should look like. Now that I've had time to think about what the future might be like.” 

[danmeichael]

me trying to get my insurance to pay for a fursuit: it'd actually be way less expensive to you in the long run, and i think that being a soft squishy fluffy doggy would have more benefit to my mental health than traditional theraputic practices

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

he loves him... ill make a drawing where ethan is being nicer... its like a really affectionate big dog that ur dad did not want but now he really likes it but he still acts like he doesnt care and hes all flippant about it LOL

whenever i draw wintersberg i cant help but draw it in a joking way because i feel like the dynamic has so much potential of "im so tired i want to go home vs i want you" 😭 karl loves him very much and ethan loves him too, he wouldnt tolerate karl if he didnt...

karl loves him very very much and ethan appreciates that but it makes him flustered alot , in any wintersberg au i draw karl (obviously) did not propose to use rosemary as a fighter jet so i think ethan would also just have a very deep appreciation for karl helping him get her back

i think karls love language is a lot more physical and hed make ethan lots of little trinkets and make rosemary toys as well and ethan would think its really sweet, hes also a very touchy guy and always likes to be holding at least some part of ethan LOL

i actually dont think heisenberg would actually say the words "i love you", i think its really difficult for him but he defiently DOES love him

ethans love language is with words and acts of service (sacrficie ?) i think ethan would be very willing to do anything he can for karl if he knew it was very important to him, he throws around "i love you" very often and i think at first karl would try and play it off like "i know you do" but after awhile he doesnt skip around it and accepts it 😭

they support/ depend on each other because after re8 i dont think ethan would be in the best place and i dont think karl would be able to manage on his own considering hes been living in a little village with barely any technology for 100 years

they have each other to lean on...

whilw i dont think their relationship would be perfect (karl doesnt ever really say sorry, ethan has major trust issues) it defiently has potential and i think they could be very cute together...

i like the concept of ethan helping karl adapt to modern life and i think its very sweet

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green : Part 23

The cheerful bell rang a familiar chime as Damian opened the door to his favorite animal shelter. The scent of fur, pet food, and antiseptic was as comforting as it was potent. Damian watched Danny closely out of the corner of his eye. The other boy’s nose wrinkled, but he looked around the front room curiously.

“Damian! I wasn’t expecting you today,” Ms. Lacey said as she popped out of the back room, summoned by the chime.

‘Ms. Lacey’ was their compromise. Damian had refused to simply refer to the woman by her first name and in turn, Ms. Lacey refused to give Damian her last name. It had been supremely frustrating. Now it was almost akin to game or inside joke between them. It was nice.

She brushed the riot of curls (blue this month) out of her face and looked at the group that had entered the shelter curiously.

Damian knew they were a bit of a sight. Danny was still swathed in a number of bandages and, now out of the apartment, looked a moment away from running. Because of that, Jason basically loomed over Danny and Damian as if he could keep the world at bay.

(He might just be able to manage to.)

“No. It is not one of my normal service days, however, I am not here to volunteer,” Damian said, his tone almost apologetic. “I have brought Daniel—”

“Danny.”

“—to see if there is a pet that would suit him.”

“Hi, Danny,” Ms. Lacey said and leaned forward onto the counter.

Danny shied back into Jason’s space. He clutched a little tighter at the backpack that his bear was safely stashed in. Cass had thought it might be good for Danny to be able to take the bear discreetly with him as he seemed rather attached to it. Considering the tracker in the bear, everyone quickly helped make that happen.

“Hi Lacey,” Danny replied softly.

Ms. Lacey leaned back, her smiled now twinged with just a little bit of sadness. Damian had seen her look abused animals the same way. “Do you know what type of animal you might be interested in, Danny?”

“I was thinking a cat or dog?” The words were more a question than a statement. “Someone that can sit with me.”

“That’s a good start. That could also be rabbits, but if they’re going to be living at the manor,” Ms. Lacey glanced briefly at Damian for a confirming nod, “then a rabbit might not work the best. A cat has the advantage that it would be indoors and doesn’t need as much effort depending on the animal’s age. But you might want a dog to walk! Why don’t we get you into the kitten room to start, because that’s a great time no matter what.”

When Danny glanced from Ms. Lacey to Damian to Todd, Todd gave a little nod. Danny tightened the hold on his backpack, took a breath, and gave a little nod.

-

“Okay, this is pretty great,” Danny said as he pried a tiny orange and white ball of fluff off his shoulder and set the little guy back down with his siblings.

Immediately the kitten was pounced by the black kitten and had his ears chewed on.

“Kittens might be too much energy for me though,” Danny admitted. He had a feeling he’d never have the type of energy he used to again. He wasn’t sure if that was from his death or… everything else.

��They are a great deal of work,” Damian agreed. His own lap was full of peacefully sleeping kittens.

Danny was a little jealous. He caught the grey kitten who looked more like a a dust bunny as it romped past.

“What if I don’t find a pet today?”

“Then we will go somewhere else. This is not the only shelter in the city,” Damian said.

The straightforward certainty that Damian had about the world was something Danny had come to appreciate over the last several days of knowing Damian. The fear was still there. Danny didn’t know if it would ever go away, but he could ignore it now. Sometimes it was hardly even background noise.

Danny was used to having a brain full of static.

“It will be fine, Brother,” Damian said when Danny didn’t respond.

Brother. Damian insisted on using that instead of his name, but Danny figure that was because Damian didn’t have a last name to call him like all the others. Bruce was simply ‘Father’ too. Maybe it was about Wayne then? But Danny wasn’t Daniel Wayne. He was just Danny… no one.

“Yeah,” Danny made himself respond so that Damian didn’t get worried. For all that Damian tried to be aloof he really was worse than even Dick.

“If a kitten would be too much, what do you think of an adult cat?”

Danny looked down at the little slip of a kitten in his hands. It was so tiny. “I think let’s start with dogs. Something not so small and… breakable.”

Damian nodded and started to divest himself of cats. “I have heard the vets ‘joke’ that kittens will heal from anything. One could toss a kitten and its missing foot in a cage and it would reattach. I suggest we do not try it.”

“No,” Danny said in horror. “We are very much not trying that, what the hell.”

“What is what I said.” Despite having to deal with many more kittens, Damian was up first and offering Danny his hand. “Come, Brother.”

Danny took the hand, stood, and still had one last kitten to pull off of of his jeans where it clung with this sharp, sharp claws.

---

AN: I was able to give this a read through finally, so have the first bit of this chapter! Because who doesn't want Danny and Damian surrounded by adorable kittens?

[nanamiluvs]

can you do nsfw alphabet for gallagher? :3

just yes omg gallagher is so ngh... like someone commented on my last gallagher post, i want him and wriothesley to tag team me idc

gallagher nsfw alphabet !

pairing : gallagher x reader

rating : explicit

wc : 2.4k

warnings : smut content, reader is afab but no pronouns used, not beta read, reader is called "miss" and "baby" and "good girl", reader is smaller than gallagher in size, size kink, cum play, slight pet play, come eating, gallagher likes to torture himself, manhandling, praise kink, choking, spanking, gallagher eats pussy like a champ, face-fucking, very slight hair pulling, begging, mentions of creampies, overstimulation, teasing, so much teasing

a : aftercare

gallagher is not the biggest practitioner of aftercare, he'd much rather you two just lay down in a mess and leave the cleaning to later. but he's an acts of service type of man. if you want to be cleaned, he will clean you. if you want to be held, he's cuddling you already. gallagher can do whatever you want to do the point it comes off as weird, but really, he's fine with whatever you like. he wants whatever you want. this man can eat his own cum out of you with pleasure for fuck sake.

b : body part

gallagher loves how big he is. he knows his frame is large, wide shoulders and a build adorned with hard muscles. he acts like he's not aware of it, but he loves how you fit in his bulky arms. for you, gallagher loves anywhere he can grab or run his hands through: your waist, your tummy, your thighs, hips, throat- anywhere, really. to be honest, it doesn't matter but on a surface level, gallagher seems to be the type to prefer a heavier body.

c : cum

gallagher is messy and i mean it. he likes to see a mess on you or himself, he doesn't care, just make a mess. he loves to see his cum dirty your body, sprayed across your tits and stomach or seeping out of your cunt. his cum has an off-white color, thicker in density and he cums a lot. you don't know how it's possible, but the man just doesn't stop cumming. he loves to smear his cum too, even more when you scold him for it, laughing like a little boy.

d : dirty secret

gallagher is not shy, but the idea of wanting you to put a collar on him and treat him like a dog, is a little embarrassing. if you ask him to, he'd say something like 'eh, whatever you want, miss' and oblige. it's definitely not as if he's so fucking hard he's turned on by it, he just wants to go along with your requests.

e : experience

gallagher is probably quite experienced. his job is quite stressful, so why not let off some steam with some hook ups here and there? he's not one to judge you whether you're experienced or not, he simply thinks of his experience as an advantage to pleasure you. he knows what he's doing and he knows it so well.

f : favorite position

gallagher has no set favorite position since this man finds joy in throwing you around. sex with gallagher never finishes in the same position as it started, he will find a way to manhandle you to his whims. probably likes g-whiz, table top and upstanding citizen a lot. get used to him moving your body and handling you into another position he wants because he loves doing it.

g : goofy

gallagher is, most of the time, very laid-back during sex. there are times he's more serious, but usually it's him cracking a few jokes here and there. he doesn't see sex as a necessarily romantic thing- gallagher is someone who prefers to fuck rather than to make love. he's extremely cocky too, so much that you'd want to punch his grinning face in with your fist, but well, that's gallagher for you.

h : hair

gallagher definitely has a happy trail and i don't care what anyone else says. he's probably hairy down there, he doesn't let it get too wild since that bothers him but don't expect to see a completely bald surface. he likes it if you're more on the hairy side as well. for gallagher, the messier, the better when it comes to sex.

i : intimacy

gallagher, like i said, doesn't view sex as strictly romantic. he's often teasing you, dirty words spilling through his lips as he fucks you into utter bliss. this man fucks like he has no respect for you. the other times he's on the intimate side, gallagher can't help but smile fondly as his hips roll into yours, arms wrapped around your body with his low voice whispering in your ear. it's so unfair, how he can pull off both with ease.

j : jack off

gallagher probably jacks off once or maybe twice a week at max. i imagine him doing it after work, before he gets to sleep. he mainly does it to destress. i also imagine him wanting to see you masturbate, rough and calloused hands palming his clothed groin as he watches you pleasure yourself. he will not touch you unless you're done, cunt all wet and messy for his thick cock to fill up. and fill up, he will.

k : kink

gallagher is honestly the kinky type.

‎ ‎ ‎ begging : gallagher wants to see you beg. beg to cum, beg for him to finish inside you, beg for him to fuck you, beg and beg and beg. he finds it so arousing, the way you can go so vulnerable for a man like him. he's a meanie, too, making you beg for anything.

‎ ‎ ‎ choking : gallagher would hate to hurt you, but sometimes he can't help but wrap his hand around your throat as he fucks you. he's never too harsh, he knows how strong he is, his touch is more like a reminder of his presence. his thumb plays with your lip before he leans in and kisses you. he also absolutely loves getting choked by you, your smaller hands wrapped around his neck as you ride him, a teasing grin on his face as he struggles to breathe. he says you don't need to worry about going overboard as he can simply stop it if you do so. trust me, he doesn't want to.

‎ ‎ ‎ overstimulation : gallagher hits me as the type to be able to do it for hours on end, obsessed with making you cum over and over again before burying himself inside. he loves fucking you silly, your whining and moaning sound like music in his ears. loves overstimulating himself too.

‎ ‎ ‎ praise kink : gallagher has a praise kink. it's frustrating at this point, the way he can get you to do anything with that stupid smirk on his face and whispers of his, praising you for everything you do. so much that you want to choke him, yet he's just so sickeningly sweet with his words. anything you do well, he will praise you for it. he turns it into a game of whether you'll get his approval or not, going as far as making you beg and crawl for it, and then praise you for how well you've been. 'y'can do it for me, can't ya? good girl.' he can get you to do almost everything he wants with the providance of praises. likes to be on the receiving side on the times he's on the submissive side, often begging for praises during it. 'ah, i've been a good boy, right, baby? right? come and sit on it, please.'

‎ ‎ ‎ size kink : gallagher wants to tower over you. he wants to hold both of your wrists with one hand. he wants to see how small your hands look compared to his larger ones, he wants to see those big fingers of his slowly disappear inside your pussy, filling you like a dick would. yet it's not even close enough to the feeling of his cock, so big and heavy and just too much. he smiles and pushes further inside, relishing in how much you struggle to take him. how many times has it been? are you still not used to his length? he teases as his frame wraps around yours with your back pressed against his chest, enveloping you with all the warmth radiating from the man. he loves how he's just so big compared to you.

l : location

gallagher cares little about things such as locations. if there's a surface, he can fuck you. he has no shame, he can and will do it everywhere you want him to. obviously won't force you if that's not your thing, happy to oblige in the privacy of your own home. the location really doesn't matter to him, because at the end of the day, it's your walls wrapping around his cock so deliciously.

m : motivation

gallagher has a high sex drive, so i think he doesn't need much additional motivation. but your reactions would be the biggest motivating point for him to continue, in love with the way you whine when he rubs your clit or the way you squirm under his hands as he caresses your body. he will go to heaven and back just to hear you moan in ecstasy. would get hard again at the sight of his cum seeping out your folds.

n : no

gallagher most likely wouldn't have a strictly negative opinion on anything. he's a firm believer that everything can be tested but he's not a fan of the idea of physically hurting you with knives or other sharp weapons.

o : oral

gallagher eats pussy like a craved man. it's either him holding you down by your thighs as you sit on him or your plush thighs threatening to crush his skull when he goes down on you. you may think he does it to pleasure you, in reality, you couldn't be more wrong. he eats you out because that's what pleasures him, the taste of your juices along with the melodies your moans sound like in his ears. he grows so hard it's unbearable, yet no, he won't stop to fuck you for real. his hips grind against the bed, dick aching with need in his pants, low moans spilling from his mouth as his tongue laps your slick. his stubble grazes your lips as his jaw moves, your hips desperately chasing the friction. he also loves pushing your head down on his length, watching you gag and choke around his thick cock as you struggle to take him in. he enjoys eating you out but also face-fucking you, although not as much as the former. his grip on your hair tightens as he gets closer to coming, your saliva and his precum mixing before he buries his cock in your mouth, cum spilling down your throat. he will definitely pull out if you don't like the stretch.

p : pace

gallagher has such a rough pace that it's intoxicating. his hips slam into yours so heavily, you can feel his whole body with the way he thrusts inside of you. he's not slow too, you wonder how he does it. each thrust fills your insides with vigor, groans coming from his mouth. his hips fasten as he comes close to finishing, and that takes quite the long time, the sensation overwhelming.

q : quickie

gallagher absolutely enjoys quickies and no one can convince me otherwise. he thinks they're just so useful for getting one out of his system with the load of his work. though most of the time, he prefers having his time with you.

r : risk

gallagher is probably open with taking risks when it comes to sex. anything you wanna try, he's alright with it- truly a gentleman.

s : stamina

gallagher can go on for multiple rounds on end. you don't know how he does it, he just cums and cums and cums until there's nothing left in his balls, yet it repeats all over the next day! his stamina is probably one of the highest of the star rail men.

t : toys

gallagher can use anything that makes the act more pleasurable for the both of you. it's usually him asking you to try out some new toy he got from who knows where.

u : unfair

gallagher is such a bully. he does nothing but to tease you and rile you up, he just can't shut up for one second! he makes fun of how you're so easily crumbled, how you must have no shame with the way you beg for his cock, how you turn into mush the moment you take his tip. he says all of those with a stupid smirk on his face that only widens when you scold him for it. he enjoys seeing you get teased and all shy so quickly. you want to bite him, punch his face as he keeps not shutting the hell up, his large palm coming down to slap your rear from behind as he laughs at you. 'what's that? oh? you think i'm too mean, miss? how cute, you know you love it.'

v : volume

gallagher is not the most vocal during sex but definitely not quiet. he's more of the groaner and grunter type instead of moaning. you can still make him moan, though, just ride him with your hands tight around his throat and listen to him singing.

w : wild card

gallagher likes how painful it is to have a boner. he leaves his pants on for the sole purpose of feeling his dick stretch against the fabric, begging for release. it hurts so much yet he loves the feeling, cockhead too sensitive and weeping by the time he frees it. he likes it when you sit on it, not putting it inside you but just sitting on it, forcing it to cower as you rub yourself along his length. likes it when you squeeze the shaft so tight that he can't help but curse. gallagher loves the pain if it's because of you.

x : x-ray

gallagher has the biggest or second biggest cock in all of star rail. he's just sooo large, longer and has so much more girth than average. it's a tan color fading into a furious red in the tip. it's so easy to get precum oozing out of it. definitely has thick veins sticking out here and there that you can feel inside of you. he knows how big he is yet he acts like he doesn't.

y : yearning

gallagher doesn't need to have sex that much but definitely wants to. it's okay if you don't want to, he can just rub one out if it's so urgent and nothing if it's not. likes to do it with you almost every day to every other night.

z : zzz

gallagher probably has problems sleeping, i mean, have you seen this man? so when it's night and you're in your home, it's when he falls sleep the most easily. he doesn't want to let you go, his big arms wrapped around your body as he pulls you into his chest, spooning you as if he was a little kid and you were his favorite toy to sleep with.

reqs are open !

i mainly write for jjk, hsr and genshin ✩

[tossawary]

Looking at Kakashi's age at the beginning of "Naruto", I kind of want to make a "He was only 26??? He should have been at the club!!!" type of joke. But my immediate response to that is "The CLUB??? This man should be at the RETIREMENT HOME!!!" and I'm only like half-joking about that.

I think Kakashi could potentially have a great time volunteering at / hanging out at the ninja retirement home. (Statistically, some of them have to make it and/or get injured out of service.) He could be killing it at the cards and dice tables, taking naps on the couch under a pile of his dogs, swapping sexy novels with horny retirees, and complaining with his fellow war veterans about how much his body hurts. You are not getting this man into therapy, but it probably wouldn't hurt him to hang out with a 96-year-old woman who's thrilled to have someone nod along to her rant about how her soap opera radio show isn't bloody enough anymore and the jelly desserts aren't as good as they used to be either, just to put some things into perspective for him. He's so young! And I bet that the retirees would love hearing about his troublesome genin team and LOVE giving him advice of varying quality.

Honestly, I like to imagine that this is what post-canon Kakashi spends some of his time doing. Rokudaime Hokage Kakashi visits some retirement homes as a village leadership duty or because Gai is teaching some physical fitness classes, and this is new for him because he's never really known anyone who made it to retirement before, and Kakashi is almost immediately like, "Oh, fuck yeah, there's an erotic book club here!!! Where has this place been all my life???" He's signing up for water aerobics and the photography club. He's going to gardening shows and painting exhibitions. He's been a soldier since he was, like, 5 or 6 years old, but now he's going to learn how to crochet silly hats for his dogs and he's the celebrity judge for the lawn bowling tournament later. Awesome.

[geneviveleocardius]

john ‘soap’ mactavish and his way of loving you

my baby

soap’s kisses are always playful and teasing, but they carry so much warmth it’s almost overwhelming. he loves sneaking quick pecks when you least expect them—on your cheek, your jawline, even the tip of your nose. when he’s feeling more serious or vulnerable, his kisses are slow and lingering, lips brushing yours like he’s trying to memorize every moment.

physical touch is soap’s main way of showing love. he’s constantly touching you—whether it’s a hand on your lower back, his arm draped over your shoulders, or his fingers intertwined with yours. acts of service come in close second. he’ll go out of his way to make your life easier, from cooking your favorite meal to fixing things around the house, all with a cheeky grin.

soap is absolutely obsessed with your hands. he loves holding them, kissing your knuckles, or feeling your fingers comb through his hair. to him, your hands are a source of comfort, strength, and tenderness all rolled into one. he also has a secret fascination with your legs—he loves watching you move, whether it’s casually walking or dressed up for a night out.

soap’s a big fan of playful nicknames. “lass,” “love,” “bonnie,” and “darlin’” are all regulars in his vocabulary. he loves calling you by your first name when he’s being serious or romantic—it feels personal and intimate to him.

soap is endlessly in awe of you. he constantly tells you how beautiful, strong, or stunning you look, even when you’re just lounging in sweats. he’s not shy about his admiration, and he often teases you with exaggerated compliments just to see you roll your eyes, though he always means them.

he absolutely melts every time you call him “johnny.” it’s a name that feels intimate, like it’s reserved just for you, and it makes him feel grounded. every time you say it, he flashes that boyish grin of his, sometimes followed by a playful, “only for you, love.”

soap thinks about marrying you more than he’d ever admit out loud—at least, not right away. he’s already imagined how you’d look walking down the aisle, how he’d make sure to be the best husband you could ask for, and how proud he’d feel to call you his. he drops little hints here and there, like casually asking about your dream wedding or joking about practicing his vows.

soap talks about you constantly with his team, always with a proud smile and a twinkle in his eye. he’s not shy about showing how much he loves you, whether it’s recounting a funny story, mentioning how much he misses you, or boasting about your accomplishments.

when it comes to ghost, soap’s a bit more reserved but still can’t help himself. he’ll drop little comments like, “she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, mate,” or “you should see her with the dog, simon—it’s unreal.” ghost pretends to be annoyed, but soap knows he’s secretly listening and even offers some rare, begrudging advice when soap’s feeling vulnerable about making you happy.

you will never know how much i hate makarov

[s1m0nth3swag]

More Viktor Drabbels! (He's all I think about someone PLEASE give me ideas for proper stories) I am losing my MIND I can't do this anymoreeeee

He doesn't get the whole 'cats or dogs' debate because he'd be happy getting either one (I can def see him have a dog, though, probably a sort of service dog that helps him be reminded of breaks and such, if he had a cat he'd have it on his lap at all times when working)

He probably doesn't have a favourite colour either. When asked, he just says that he likes colours portrayed in nature, specifically close to water.

Viktor is the type of guy to have a strict rule of no pet names in the lab because he gets too distracted whenever you call him sweetheart or love - he's just not used to it so his mind immediately spirals

Same goes for pda, I don't think he'd like public affection anyway, since he keeps to himself mostly, but he also has a strong rule against it in the lab because he will absolutely melt into a puddle if you do as little as brush your hand over his shoulder lovingly. He is the definition of touch starved.

Speaking of touch starved, no one can convince me that he wouldn't love cuddling. He isn't big on affectionate words, but he definitely shows his love through cuddles or little trinkets he finds or makes for you. He probably finds a random part in the lab and just thinks "oh yeah they'll love this" and brings it to you like a crow

Honestly, he's a little autistic (mecore), so I can definitely see him express love through rants as well. Just him going on for hours about his latest project/invention/discovery, and he will get cranky if you don't listen. It doesn't even matter if you listen attentively. Just do something while he rants, and he'll be happy (let my boy yap)

100% the kinda guy to not get jokes. His humour is so dry that he doesn't get actual jokes, honestly. Especially if they're the type of "would you still love me if I was a worm" kinda joking. He'd fo at it scientifically and give actual standpoints on the question and then you don't have the heart to tell him you were joking.

Will forget to eat, so it's definitely beneficial if you know how to make food (plus points if you learn specifically for him, he'd appreciate it to the moon and back) - also you will have to defend that food from Jayce, who will 100% try to swoop in and steal some.

(Modern AU) Has a whole ass PC set up. I'm talking 3/4 screens and the best working shit you've ever seen. He uses all screens too (which is crazy to me, I have two screens and barely use both at the same time)

(More a headcanon) personally would say he's somewhat asexual and more attracted to men, though he doesn't really care, he barely believes that anyone would like him out of all people anyway

[fiftyfiftyfinchy]

okay I have a specific request — Ethan’s sister dating george???? I just feel like ethan would be a really fun but protective brother.

I'm sorry this took me so long to put together, my job has me in a chokehold this week! anyway I hope you like it :))

I’m not sure if I’m here for the free craft services or for the existential bliss of standing next to George Clarke. My brother—Ethan, Behzinga to the world—thinks I’m just bored. He thinks I’m tagging along for some wholesome family bonding or maybe to post behind-the-scenes TikToks featuring him and his goofy friends. He has no clue that what I really want is to watch George from every possible angle until I can’t breathe.  George and I are used to this—little side glances, inside jokes, a teasing tap on the shoulder that feels dangerously electric. Nothing official, but enough to make my chest tighten in anticipation every time we land on the same shoot.

I claim a spot near the plastic folding chairs—flimsy thrones for YouTube royalty—and pretend I’m not devouring George with my eyes. I sip water I don’t need just to have something to do with my mouth. At any moment, I’m convinced I might say something desperate, like “Can I live inside your ribcage?” which is not generally acceptable small talk. But the heat in my spine is so intense that my entire body is basically a tuning fork for desire.

George glances in my direction and a hush slides over me like a weird spiritual wave, but then I remind myself: girl, you are on a set full of cameras. You can't be caught thirsting over one of your brother's best mates. Everyone here sees everything. Except Ethan, who’s too busy ignoring me for the sake of “content” to notice the entire soap opera I’m staging in my head. Thank God for that.

Eventually, the filming starts—some big wheel of dares. It’s silly. It’s comedic gold. I laugh at appropriate intervals, feeling the headache of a forced grin. My face is so stuck in performative cheer that I worry I’ll never be able to frown again. But every so often, George’s eyes drift my way. Then it doesn’t feel forced at all; it feels like someone just pressed an espresso shot of lust into my bloodstream.

I imagine the corners of my mouth still have hints of a smirk when Ethan glances over, eyes full of big-brother protectiveness. Great. His “friendly, easygoing vibe” is over. I can’t help but roll my eyes in a cosmic sense of sibling dread. Because Ethan is the barrier between me and the arms I want to fling myself into. He’s the moat around the castle. He’s the guard dog who barks at everything.

The video ends. Confetti of half-laughter, half-exhaustion litters the air. I hover near the edge of the set, my phone clenched in a death grip. Across the room, George sets down a water bottle. I decide I need to do something dramatic, or I’ll spontaneously combust.

I walk over casually—at least I hope it looks casual, like I’m in total control of my heartbeat. “You did great,” I say, trying to sound breezy instead of delirious. George smiles his classic, impossibly warm smile.

“Fancy seeing you here,” George says, stepping to me with that crooked grin. There's something boyish in the way he leans in, like we share a secret the rest of the room couldn’t possibly understand.

“Right?” I laugh, a little breathless. “Almost like we planned it.” We’ve run this dance so many times, bantering on set, one-upping each other with witty remarks, smiling in ways that promise everything and nothing. But it still feels new—a micro-thrill every time he tosses me that look.

He brushes an imaginary speck of dust off my sleeve, an excuse to close the gap between us. “Oh, I definitely planned it,” he teases, voice low.

Then I hear Ethan’s voice: “Oi! What’s going on over here?” My brother, a sentinel, standing with arms crossed like his biceps can ward off romance. 

“Nothing,” I say. “Just being friendly to your guest, Ethan.” I infuse his name with a sweet venom. 

Ethan narrows his eyes but doesn’t push it. He stalks away—still suspicious— probably to the snack table where the rest of the guys are rehashing the best jokes of the shoot. 

George leans in, breath brushing the shell of my ear. “Text me when you’re free, yeah?”

My chest throbs with that old, familiar longing. “I will,” I whisper, feeling the ghost of his presence on my skin long after he’s stepped back. We share this conspiratorial nod, like two secret agents swapping contraband info.

He steps away and salutes me in a mockingly polite way, turning to follow Ethan and the guys. And I’m left there, fidgeting like some starry-eyed fool, full of swirling fantasies about how our next off-camera rendezvous might go. Maybe it’s crazy to think we can keep up this flirtation without someone catching on—especially my brother—but for now, it’s perfect: the hush of a secret too sweet to keep bottled up forever.

[g0ldenbritney]

TATE LANGDON ABCS (sfw)꧂

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN🎃..sorry i skipped some letters im a lazy bitch

A = Affection

physical touch for sure, playing with your hair, holding your hand (or holding pinky fingers because thats cutesy as fuck), kissing cheeks and noses (im a SUCKAA for nose kisses and so is he<3). Im just imagining you leaning in to kiss his nose, but he thought you were leaning in for a lip kiss, and it ends up being kinda awkward and you bump into eachother😭😭. Tbh i can’t see him being great at communication especially because he’s a literal teenage boy but though he might now be able to say it he can definitely show it with acts of service like helping with chores

You were at school, trying to focus on your worksheets and actually listening to the teacher speak about..whatever she was teaching, all you can think about is getting back home and all the homework and fuckin chores you had awaiting for you.

once you did get home, you opened the front door and you could smell how good the house smelt, on more exploration the entire house was cleaned and all your chores were done. You walked into your room and your homework was completed on your desk..i mean all the answers were wrong but its the thought that counts.

B = Best friend

Im going with alive Tate for this, I have a mood board on Pinterest for this!! (adrienjoyer)

Sharing cigarettes, sharing cds, sharing shoes, sharing clothes, FREE RAIN OF HIS STUFF. He will let you have anything, need a pencil in class…actually he doesn’t have one either but he will scavenge around for one—and if he only finds one? It’s *our* pencil now. (i need to smack that mans ass on the stairs) (i do that to all my friends) Oh? You have 10 bucks? Well he has 7…that mean its OUR 17 dollars to spend on pizza

(based on a scenario that actually happened to me LMAO 😭😭)

It was late at night, you both were hanging out at your house and it was like 2am, suddenly you both have the craving for pizza..you both counted your cash and quarters, you had 13 bucks in total so you thought a small pizza would fine..yeah no. Tate called up the local Pizza Hut and ordered a small pizza with nothing but cheese and pepperoni and it was 22 FUCKING DOLLARS?? And so you both ran around the house looking for quarters…

you ended up paying the money in quarters to that poor pizza delivery girl at 2am.

C = Cuddles

Depends on how he’s feeling tbh, i can see him as a chest layer. Lying on your chest as you stroke his hair, or the other way around he would be just fine with that as well.

D = Domestic

OF COURSE!! I can see him totally wanting that but like..not till he’s like 30. He wants to do all this stuff first before he settled down, but he definitely wouldn’t mind a partner..some kids, a dog maybe. He’s pretty good at cooking, if you count Kraft mac and cheese and grilled cheese or really anything with cheese.. (the man likes cheese what can i say) and he REFUSES to use a dishwasher, he will be washing dishes old style and you cant stop him.

E = Ending

no.

G = Gentle

Sometimes he might go to far, if you two are just friends and hes joking around and he actually hurts your feelings he would squeeze your shoulder and tell you a quick “sorry.” And it usually makes you feel better. He is very gentle with you when you’re having a bad day maybe just upset or stressed about exams he will maybe rub your shoulders or something and maybe get you to laugh to calm your nerves. If you are in a good mood, hes still gentle, holding you, holding your hands, being careful.

H = Hugs

He loves them!! I dont even care what you have to say or as much as he tries to push you off when you hug him he LOVES HUGS. If you two are just friends and you hug him he might be a little hesitant but he will hug you loosely back. This is totally pointed towards me because im very physically affectionate with my friends and hug them after school everyday, if you, like me, run up to him at his locker and basically throw yourself at him he will laugh and let you hug him and yap. If you’re dating and you hug him he will definitely hug you back and kiss your head :)

I = I love you

He thinks the whole “3 month rule” is bs. He’ll say that shit whenever he wants to. If he wants to say “I love you” immediately after you starting dating god damnit it will happen!!! He definitely says he loves you if you’re just friends to

J = Jealousy

Actual jealous baby

Im just imagining someone flirting with you in class do you immediately tell him as soon as you can because you tell him everything and he genuinely TWEAKS THE FUCK OUTTT, like hes actually geeked

like wdym someone else might have a little crush on you…NO. That person will become his biggest opp and you are told to stay away.

You were in 1st hour and you were assigned partners, luckily you knew the person you were assigned with thought they were a little strange…but they started subtly flirting you. They said sorry for being awkward and they “get nervous around people like you” which sounded like a flirt to you

so when you got to lunch, you immediately told Tate, he literally could run to that kids class right now and fight but he just whips his head around at you

“I hated that guy anyway…stupid.”

K = Kisses

Can range from sweet little ones to full blown makeouts hickeys..he prefers sweet ones on the face in the daylight but at night this man is freaky asf. His kisses are soft and slow but he can be a bit quicker if you really want him to

Q = Quizzes

he had a notebook for stuff about you, if you accidentally drop a little fun fact about you he will know about it and he will write it down, ranging from your favorite juice or if you have a mole under your jaw. He knows it all. If he ever forgot anything and i mean ANYTHING about you I dont think he would forgive himself

T = Try

Tbh i dont think he would put a lot of effort in, he just likes to be around you. (Though the mcdonalds dates are FIRE.) he likes having sleepovers with you at tour house only, watching movies, eating snacks till you feel ill, cuddling, if you’re down to get Applebees that would be even better and you would both ask the waiter for the gummy sharks in your sweet drinks separately (yes ive done that before). But if you really really wanted anice romantic date maybe he would give you flowers or something

U = Ugly

Nail biting (you put bandaids over his nails so he’ll stop :)), excessive social media usage (this guys is chronically online holly shit freaking 4chan user), ive always imagined him little tics, like twitching when hes anxious.

X = Xtra

i want to bake him a cake

Z = Zzz

THIS MAN CAN NEVER SLEEP ISTG

he tosses and turns but no matter what he cant sleep without you or if you give him a stuffed animal

OHH MY GODD IF YOU GIVE HIM A STUFFED ANIMAL I CANT

imagine him holding and cuddling it, and i know this doesnt relate to sleep but imagine him being all sad and crying into it because it reminds him of you😭

[captainjamster]

Hey if you're comfortable with it, do you think you write about how 141 would react to finding out you're ticklish? Preferably nsfw. Maybe they just tease you with it or maybe they have a session with you after a while and enjoy how it drives you crazy. It could be poly141 or just a drabble with each members reaction.

I love your writing sm

I'm sorry this took a while anon, thank you so much for your request!! This is the first time I've written about tickling, so I hope it came out alright. I loved researching this lmfao it's so cute

Pairing(s): 141 x reader (separately, not poly or sharing this time sorry! :p) Warnings: Bondage and restraint, tickling, tickling during sex Wordcount: 1.2k Summary: How each of the boys enjoy tickling you :p AO3 Link: Right here! <3

Full drabbles under cut <3

Price loves your laugh; just the sound can get him hard. Maybe you should’ve seen it coming from the first date. It was the first thing he complimented you on in the small bakery – heart eyes over the brim of his coffee cup that had your cheeks red, already breathless at the story between a cheeky sounding sergeant and someone’s poor dog. He stores every terrible joke exchanged amongst his boys, bringing them home just to fill your ears with them, to get anything from that exasperated little giggle to a shocked cackle at some of Ghost’s darker ones – the first time he hears you belly laugh, he writes the beginning of his wedding vowels.

For him, there’s a privilege in being allowed to bring you to such a vulnerable state, dazed and breathless, whether it’s scrabbling against the material of his shirt as you’re bent over in hysterics, hiding behind your hands, gasping for air at the comedy he’s been nagging you to watch, or between his thighs against the mattress, straining with hiccupped shrieks and pleads at his weight as he tortures your overstimulated skin. The only thing he uses is his fingers, and he’s stubborn about it, possessive of the tactile connection between his fingertips against your skin. The furthest he goes is a plug in your pussy, with a command to try and keep it there at the threat of a good spanking (though you both know you’re going to fail).

He challenges himself to make you come with just tickling – he neglects your needy pussy, wet and fluttering with arousal, until the delicate dragging of his nails down the plush insides of your thigh has you spasming around nothing.

-

Gaz, poor Gaz. Gaz, with blood under his nails he just can’t scrub, who sees someone’s face with every punch he throws at the bag. He’s heard the way his peers talk all throughout his service – spank their ass, slap their face, tight grip to the throat, till they ache.

There was only one part that ever stuck with him – till they ache.

The only time he raises a hand against you is to watch you squeal in anticipation before it flies down to your stomach, skittering up and down the soft skin as you twist and writhe against the sheets. It’s everything he needs – he can make you cry, beg, scream, with the whisp of a few touches, the softest of caresses. Tracing the marks that scatter your skin, only love bites and the imprints of restraint. On some nights, Gaz loves tying you up and tickling you, watching you squirm and contort against his ropes in an attempt to escape. The knots dip into your flesh, keeping your arms straight and pointed to the metal hook that meets the rope stemming from your wrists, legs spread wide with the thick bar anchoring your feet flat to the ground. His fingers dance over every inch of skin bare to him, honing to the areas you try to pull away from, watching you sway this and that way in peals of laughter as he switches between sides on your ribs.

Unlike Price, he doesn’t care for games – he’ll give you what you want. A toy, his fingers, his cock. Slow and steady, letting the rope drop a little to bend you at the waist, rocking back and forward into him, clenching down those slick and warm walls in sync with each ragged laugh. He doesn’t mind wielding a tickle wand, dragging the feathers up and down your thighs, your armpits, behind your knees. It’s not over until your eyes are puffy, cheeks tear stained as you sag under your own weight, kept suspended by the rope as your knees shake.

-

Soap becomes aware of your ticklish nature very quickly, being such a tactile partner. He’s always touching you – whether it’s an arm around your waist, foot rubbing against your calf, pinkies linked together – and it isn’t long before he unintentionally makes you squeal, accidentally brushing up against one of your most sensitive areas. The noise makes him jump, worried he’s hurt you, but when he sees the red of your cheeks and the shy smile on your face? Oh, it’s over for you.

“Y’ticklish, bonnie?”

He’s all a-grin every time, hands raising menacingly with wiggling fingers.

For a while it stays non-sexual, but poor Johnny can’t help himself. The tickle fights start to linger way past what’s appropriate, making home in his mind – how you get so panicked and squirmy, trying to get away from his fingers, your breathless laugh and gasps as his name whines so desperately from your lips. Your squeals rings through his ears during overdue paperwork in his late nights, so clear that he swears your lips brush across the tips of his ears, and Price avoids looking at him too closely as he turns in the files before leaving.

Sly, smart Johnny starts off slow. When the mood is playful during sex, he purposely rubs his hair and beard up against your neck, your back, feeling you pulse erratically around him with each giggle. He introduces it in increments, a foot in the door as you warm to the idea. Things really get going when he confesses, head buried in the crook of your neck as he groans how the way you flutter around his cock with each giggle brings him so close, and you can't help but laugh at that too. Poor Johnny comes harder than he ever has, and you can't help but want to indulge the glassy, lovestruck expression on his handsome face.

Unlike Gaz, he’d never restrain you - Johnny loves fighting you to stay still, caging you in or dragging you back by the ankle into his reach.

-

For Ghost, he loves the chase and anticipation beforehand, and his favourite way of being a pest – catch him brushing against just the right spot to make you jump and squeal as his arms slip around you, or his chin nuzzles into your neck.

But it starts with a morning of productivity, taken with your own domestic chores in a quiet co-existence. He’s finished a spot-tidy, bringing some discarded rubbish and checking on you in the kitchen. You’re unsuspecting, caught up in your respective daily activities, fixated on the job in front of you – and something hits him. The way you bob along happily to the music in your head, scrubbing at the dishes with a sway in your hips, caught up in your own world. Your happiness is magnetic, beckoning him and basking him in the same warm rush of dopamine. A light bubbles up through his body, something that forces its way from the depths of his chest more often when you’re around, and his feet are moving towards the kitchen before he thinks twice.

“Hey love?”

You hum questioningly, putting elbow grease into a particularly stuck blemish from the morning’s dishes.

“Got somethin’ for you.”

You finally turn around, soapy hands in the air as droplets cascade from them. Simon gives you a second to stare quizzically, watching your expression morph into a pleading grin as his hands creep up from his sides, fingers curling over into a leering grab.

“No! I’m washing dishes, please!”

His grin widens, fingers wiggling threateningly. “Then dry your hands.”

Your hands fall to your shirt, squeezing the material as you ready yourself to bolt. He squares up, arms outstretched, but he doesn’t close them as you swoop by close enough, out the kitchen in a mad dash. Though the chase is superficial, it doesn’t stop the thrill that jolts him with each impending step, following you through to the loungeroom. The sofa keeps him at bay, circling each other in a practiced synchronisation around the furniture as you feint left and right, keeping him guessing which way you’ll take off.

You bluff right to distract him from your plan to run the other way, but Simon lunges left anyway. He’s faster than you can think, reading the tensing of your muscles, and unable to rectify your charade as you scramble, his arms clamp around you in a swooping grab.

And as you gasp and giggle underneath him, something stirs to life.

dividers by cafekitsune

[7ndipity]

Dating Yoongi headcanons

Yoongi x Reader

Warnings: swearing, lil suggestive, not proofread.

A/N: Alright, if we're gonna do this series, then it's time we talk about my ult. The man, the myth, the meow meow(I'm sorry Yoongi)

(Also, I'm already planning a pt.2 for this series that's more on the crack side, so if anyone wants to send me headcanons for the members to possibly be included in future lists?)

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Dating Yoongi is comfortable.

So soft for you, I can't even begin. Like, I don't understand how people ever think he's cold, he is the epitome of soft boi.

Blushes when you complement or brag on him.

Turns into a scrunched up, spluttering mess if you call him cute(we love our tsundere).

Very cautious at first with his feelings, but once he feels comfortable enough to open up, he's very straight forward.

To call it dating is a bit generous though. Like, y'all immediately go from 'kinda dating' to 'married-but-not-married'.

Tells you he loves you for the first time in one of those long ass, 3am texts like he sends to the members.

Random,(half-)joking proposals(Marry me, Yoongi uno reverse card!)

"What kind of ramen do you want?" "Marry me." "Both it is."

So many songs about you, but you will not know until they're released(or he makes them into a playlist/mixtape for your birthday or anniversary)

Actually really hesitant about letting you in his studio(sorry fellow writers). He just prefers to have a level of separation between his work and you.

Dates are usually pretty chill(except for special occasions or when he wants to flex and rents out a whole fucking skating rink for y'all or smth)

Another who lives for domestic activities with you, like cooking together or even just grocery shopping. Idk, he just likes getting to be with you.

Probably would love going camping with you in one of those little camper vans.

Likes to teach you things?

I mean, he won't want to be your full time teacher, but if you show an interest in smth like piano or producing, he'll get a kick out of teaching you the basics.(let him teach you about basketball, he'll lose his gd mind)

Not big on nicknames(big shock🙄). Like, you have a perfectly good name, why not just fucking use it? Also calls you 'Jagi', but that's if he's feeling particularly soft or needy.

Acts of service King.

Have you eaten? He's making food. Are you cold? Makes you take his jacket. His top priority is making sure you're taken care of.

Gets lowkey jealous of Holly getting too much of your attention. "Yah, are you dating me or my dog?!"

Sass and bickering are basically a second language for you two.

Subtle about pda. If he's not holding your hand, he has to have one resting on your back.

SOMEONE HOLD HIS FUCKING HAND FOR THE LOVE OF-(sorry, I'm calm)

Not always vocal about wanting physical affection, but when he is, he's lowkey dramatic.

*laying on the couch*"If you don't kiss me, I'm gonna die." *kiss* "Better?" "Hmm, still in critical condition. Keep going."

Another who gets more than a little enjoyment in winding you up into a flustered mess, and is smug about it(again, shocking no one, I'm sure)

Slow, lingering kisses as he holds onto you like you're the most precious thing in the world.

Gets really quiet if you fight(and sulks), but is usually the first to apologize because he absolutely cannot stand y'all being mad at each other.

Holds you to go to sleep.

"Marry me." "M'kay."

Okay, that's enough delulu for right now, Imma go cry.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵 𝓦𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 | Intro

Jeon Jungkook truly fell for you- more than once.

Tags/Warnings: (fallen)Angel!Jungkook, Somewhat strangers to lovers, Fluff, Angst, some religious themes but only mentioned, clumsy romance, Flirting

Length: was supposed to be a oneshot, idk how long this is

Masterlist TBA.

There is no taglist for this fic.

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Your neighbor is a genuine angel. At least, you're convinced he is.

From what you know, he works as a gym instructor, but part-times at a local animal shelter where he helps with the heavy lifting and more physically demanding jobs. He's been in your town's local newspaper last week for building multiple new sheds there, so that the dogs have more opportunities to stay outside whenever they'd like while still being able to have shelter as well. He's helped you earlier this month to bring your groceries upstairs when the elevator was out of service, having found you struggling since you'd injured your leg.

He'd instantly helped you, offering to even go out and get you whatever you'd need during your time of recovery, and honestly, you wonder how that guy is still single.

You know he is, because your best friend, Jane, works at the shelter he helps out at. And according to her, he turns every woman (and even man) down whenever he's asked out. Apparently, he's not looking for anything at the moment.

What a bummer.

What's also odd about him, is his.. weird timing. He's always somewhere around whenever you're in trouble. From almost tripping on the stairs in the apartment building, to not properly looking both ways before crossing the road and almost getting run over- he's there to save you.

Ever since he moved here, about half a year ago, he's always been there last second to somehow pull your ass back from sure death or injury.

You're not sure what to think of it, currently playing with some puppies in the shelter while your friend cleans up the area they live in. "Maybe he's into you?" She wonders, putting the broom to the side. "I mean, could be."

"Wouldn't he have asked me out in that case?" You ask back, not convinced.

"Maybe he's shy?" She shrugs, sitting down with you now to occupy the playful young animals currently excitedly running around and occasionally nipping at your finger. "Just cause he's a looker doesn't mean he's also confident. He might be a softy." She tells you.

"He could be your early Christmas present you know?" She laughs, and you roll your eyes at that. "What? Looks like an angel to me!" She jokes, and you shake your head at that.

"The only angels I see are currently eating your jacket." You tease, making her quickly move to pull the zipper from one impish puppy who's trying to chew it up, successfully pushing the topic to the side for the moment.

You don't like talking about dating, and potential relationship, and all that stuff. You're awkward, meeting new people is awkward, and in the past, most of those connections frayed apart sooner or later either way.

So what's the point?

"Hey." Comes a voice you've come to know by now, from outside the gates and fences. "You ready to go?" He asks you, and you look at him, wide eyed and confused.

"Oh right, fuck!" Jane curses. "I can't drive you home today, so I asked Jungkook if he'd do it and he said sure!" She beams at you, while you glare with the most forceful gaze you can muster. "Don't look at me like that, see it as a chance!" She hisses, and you get up slowly to dust yourself off and grab your jacket from the top of the fence.

You're careful not to let any of the dogs out while leaving, before you wave at Jane who's giving you a cheesy thumbs up.

"I hope it's fine that I'm driving you." Jungkook offers kindly next to you.

"Ah, yeah, no issues." You brush it off. "Just.. weird."

"Weird?" He wonders, opening the main gate for you to step out before he closes it again, and leads you towards his car to open the passenger door for you. "I hope you know I'm not going to kidnap you." He jokes, and you playfully look at him with suspicion, before getting in and letting him close the door for you.

"I don't think you'd do that." You say, buckling your seatbelt while he smiles to himself as he starts the car. "It's just that.. it feels like you're always helping me, but I don't ever really get to know you past that." You shrug, as he maneuvers the car out of the parking lot to drive you both home.

"Would you like to get to know me past that?" He wonders, and again, you shrug.

Because you're not sure if you want that, considering that you don't even know if you want to only get to know him as a friend, or potentially more. Social interactions aren't what you're comfortable with, after pretty much isolating yourself with your job from home and disconnecting from past friends that turned out to be just interested in your monetary help- but nothing else.

And at some point, you just couldn't take the humiliation any longer.

"I don't know." You say because of that. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea." You admit.

"How so?" He asks, stopping at a red light to tap his fingers on the steering wheel to the soft beat of the car radio playing quietly in the background. "I'm not out for a one night stand or anything." He shrugs. "You're really pretty, and I think it's only fair to let you know that right from the start." he says.

"Why would that be something I need to know?" You wonder, and he smiles as he starts driving again as soon as the lights turn green.

"So that you know that I consider you attractive." He admits. "that I'm open to letting things become intimate, if we end up getting along well. And so that you know how to interpret my actions and words, you know?"

This is new.

You're not used to guys talking to you like this- usually, they're always incredibly cryptic, never open, never putting their cards on the table like Jungkook does right in this moment. And maybe that's what's so comforting to you right now.

Maybe that's what's making you trust him.

"Would you.." You begin, the familiar streets giving you the hint that you're close to home. "Do you.. I wanted to bake cookies today." You mumble out.

Jungkook chuckles, smiling. "That sounds cool." He comments, and you know exactly that he's teasing. "I actually know how to bake pretty decently too." He jokes, and you glare at him from the passenger side, as he parks the car in his designated spot. "What?" He looks at you, laughing.

"I take everything back, I don't like you." You cross your arms, and he grins-

Well aware that you're not being serious at all.

He's an angel after all. How could you not fall for him?

[shinne55]

**Silent Confession**

Victor Grantz x Reader

Summary: Victor receives an anonymous letter on Valentine's Day.

Words in a conversation come and go: lies that hurt and secrets between paragraphs. Speaking in person is too complex. That’s why Victor took this job—nothing can escape in a letter. There are no hidden meanings; everything can be said from the depth of the heart. So, as a postman, he has the faithful task of delivering each letter to its destination.

It’s an honest and satisfying job. Happy, sad, bitter, or innocent faces hide behind every writer and their recipient. For the young man who didn’t speak, a letter is the purest and most sincere thing, more than an entire face-to-face conversation.

During the holidays, when the letters fill the mailbox, the busier he gets and the less time he has. Christmas, New Year, and birthdays follow, but above all, Valentine’s Day. A complicated date for a small postman, but highly appreciated by those who wish to find love. Knowing that within each envelope there is a destiny in motion made his young heart flutter.

Even though Victor had worked in his community for several months, he didn’t know the people by their names but by their letters.

The mother who writes with beautiful handwriting, pressing the pencil firmly as she writes to her husband and children away from the city.

The little ones who presumably write to Santa with scribbles and drawings.

And the lovers with their colored papers and perfumes.

On Valentine’s Day, the latter group increases noticeably.

During one of those nights, when he arrived home with his companion, Wick, a small dog that follows him everywhere, changed out of his uniform, and got ready to sleep, right after hanging his jacket and emptying his bag, a letter fell to the floor. Immediately, his eyes widened, and he looked inside his bag. It was the only letter that had slipped in the entire day, stuck with a cheap seal on the wall. A small square letter in a vermilion envelope with no name or address.

His eyebrows furrowed, and, determined to violate the author’s privacy, he opened the letter.

**To the postman

Thank you for your hard work**

No sender, no signature. An anonymous letter.

Was that it? A letter for him?

A thank you that would seem crude and silly to anyone else, but to the young mailman, a true feeling of recognition struck his chest, and immediately his cheeks turned peachy with happiness.

That night, he lay on his bed, thinking about the author. Whether it was a joke or not, he didn’t care. It moved him enough to appreciate the message. He slept with the letter open on his nightstand, and in the following days, when he returned home tired from work, he would look at that letter on his desk, under the bedside light. And his chest swelled with confidence.

The next of many letters came two weeks later. Same paper, same handwriting, and no sender.

**Dear postman

I don’t know if my letter really reached you. But I truly hope it did. Thank you for your service, without you, the community would have no real connection.**

The boy could feel the interaction as a small comfort or recognition, making him feel that his effort and dedication didn’t go unnoticed. If only he had their name, he would write them a thank-you letter. Sadly, many of these letters were taken from the mailbox. And very few were delivered directly to him.

Victor is, among many of the postman in his town, just another worker, and he didn’t have much speaking ability. He relied on listening and reading lost letters and pleasant conversations. Even so, he didn’t go unnoticed by some. Over time, he earned the trust of the older writers and neighbors who had the habit of writing almost daily and waiting for his response. So, thanks to that first letter, perhaps, Victor gained more confidence.

A couple of months later, with a one-sided connection on his part, and after several failed attempts to identify the address of the sender, he gave up and settled on reading them when he left work. A routine of preparing a cold glass of milk on the small table next to his bed, taking a couple of sips while reading these letters, which over time became longer. With little everyday things like the weather, funny town events, and annual celebrations. Until, weeks before Christmas, the last letter arrived.

**To the Dear Postman Victor**

He smiled. After several months, they had finally used his name in the letter, and that one-sided connection became more intimate. Sometimes it started with, *"My favorite postman,"* or a formal, *"Dear Victor."* All very polite until the author began recounting their day-to-day life. He knew much more about her life than his own. Everything except her name.

Calmly, with his dog snoring at the foot of the bed, he continued reading:

**"I’m sorry for sending these strange letters for so long. The truth is, I just wanted someone to talk to."**

Victor stopped reading and straightened his back against the headboard of the bed:

**"My mother passed away months ago, and my father three years ago. I’ve felt so alone, but the idea that someone would read one of these letters, and that it would be you, brings me comfort. But it’s also likely that I scared you or someone else. I’m truly sorry. It won’t happen again."**

No more letters arrived.

Was something happening to her during these months when she didn’t write? Was she feeling lonely and planning to do something drastic?

For many days, he was afraid. He knew loneliness and what it did to people firsthand. But it felt far worse knowing he couldn’t do anything to help her change her mind.

He waited a day, then a week, but that vermilion-colored paper, with those homemade seals, didn’t appear in any mailbox in the city. Victor was the only one responsible for collecting letters in that area, so it didn’t make sense for them not to show up.

“Are you looking for someone who lost her mother this year?” an old woman from the bakery he regularly visited asked. “Hmm, there’s a girl, yes. She hasn’t been seen lately. She usually comes to shop during the week. On Tuesdays, I think.”

*During the week—that’s when my shift begins, and I pick up the letters,* Victor thought.

Despite being reserved, the concern on his face and his written manner prompted the woman to share more details.

**[Who is she?]**

It was good he had his notebook on hand to communicate. Even though his hand trembled, and his writing was messy, the woman understood what he wanted to ask.

**[YN]**

**[Where does she live?]** he wrote quickly. Wrapped in his winter uniform and a scarf, he hid his nervousness with the cold.

“On Central Avenue, four blocks down.”

He grabbed his pencil again and wrote:

**[Do you know if she has any relatives or friends in the city?]**

The question puzzled the woman, and she hesitated to answer.

“You look like a good boy. You remind me of my grandson. No, she lives alone as far as I know. You know, he wasn't a... very good man. The poor girl has been accompanying her mother in mourning ever since. ”

Victor was already running, fast, faster than when he tried to deliver late packages or when chasing Wick for stealing his parcels.

He abandoned his usual calm demeanor and ran toward the address the woman had mentioned, clinging to hope. And there it was—a small house with a well-kept garden separating Victor from her. It was winter now, and a layer of snow covered everything in pristine white—the streets, rivers, and even her garden.

*Should I do this?* He didn’t know her in person, but after ten months of letters, he felt like he had known her his whole life.

Even so, he knocked gently, not brave enough to ring the doorbell further ahead.

Although she might not feel the same. Although she might think she was bothering him, Victor waited for her letter every day. He wanted to know about her life, every little detail. He wanted to hear her laugh, cry, and see her in person.

And even if they had never met before—

“Hello?”

He wanted to be by her side.

What words could he offer? What could he say when he had never spoken to her before?

“Victor?”

As he stood there, sweating, lungs and brain on the verge of collapsing, he stopped and saw her—you—for the first time. Just as he had imagined and more. His words couldn’t describe the wave of emotions he felt seeing you there, safe.

You were surprised it was him. He didn’t know your name or your address. That’s why you never included it. You had overthought it, assuming it would be awkward—and it was.

When Victor extended his arms with several letters in hand and a determined expression, your face shifted to concern and embarrassment.

“So, you read them all. I’m sorry.”

Quickly, he held the letters tightly to his chest, and his expression seemed to tell you not to apologize. Victor leaned down, his gaze full of tenderness, more so than Wick’s by his side. Somehow, the way his eyes reminded you of summer leaves and his hair of sunlight made you feel undeserving of something so good.

“You don’t know anything about me, you only know me through those silly letters.”

He shook his head, his eyebrows raising in protest. *Silly? Not at all.* When you saw him take out his notebook and scribble something with a pencil, you were puzzled to read it.

**[I know the girl who loves iced coffee at night, who loves animals as much as I love Wick.]**

“Please, go. You’re not doing any good staying here.”

You were about to turn and shut the door when Wick bit at the fabric of your pants. You tried shaking him off, only for Victor to grab your wrist.

His mouth trembled, his lips pressing together before forming anything more than a murmur. It felt cruel to turn your back on someone who, despite his disability, was trying to help you.

“I… like you.”

No one had ever heard him speak. People assumed he couldn’t. He spoke clumsily when it came to you, but he spoke. His voice, breathless yet soft, like cream in coffee, melted your heart to hear it.

“No! It’s impossible. No one could love me. You’re lying.”

Why wouldn’t anyone love you? Who had made you believe that? If someone thought they could never be loved that way, Victor assumed it would have been him—not someone like you.

He searched his pockets, his gaze panicking until Wick barked and placed an envelope on the ground. Victor patted his head and handed it to you.

Vermilion—the color of your letters. However, this one had a sender.

**To YN, from Victor.**

**[You opened your heart to me, YN, in a way no one else ever has. And now, I have to give you mine.]**

“Victor…” You clutched the letter.

He gave you a broken smile, encouraging you to read it fully.

**[You will live a long life, YN, watching the sunset every evening. You won’t ever be alone again. I just need one thing.]**

The letter ended there.

“But what is it that you want?”

He pointed to himself. He placed his hands, loosely balled into fists, over his heart, as if hugging something precious. Then, he took your hands and intertwined them over your chest.

“I don’t understand… Why? Aren’t you tired of hearing from me and reading about me?”

He wrote something else in his notebook:

**[I could listen to you my entire life.]**

You didn’t fully understand, but with him, words weren’t necessary.

**[I’ve met many people in my life, but none like you. I found you, YN. I won’t let you go. I love you.]**

You felt foolish. Every emotion you’d suppressed spilled out like crystalline pearls. You couldn’t say anything, but you hugged him like you’d always been searching for him, while he had been waiting for you.

In that moment, Victor knew he had found love in your silence.

[lazlolullaby]

"Nurse" Terry AU

i mean a reboot of Terry Mcginnis being a home medical assistant for elder care.

Not the grimdark cop out twist, "lol Bruce was Crazy the whole time, the doctors were his rogues gallery" but. Mundane elder care for the man who fought too hard for this city to even consider he would live to old age. + Bonus medical support for the future Batfamily.

TL:Dr Terry as Alfred's successor. Caring of people that have made/continually make dangerous choices, dry wit, checkered past, willing to kill, etc. He just needs time to grow into it.

More details under the cut, accidentally evolved into a not fic:

Bruce already has a partial caretaker in Alfred, and he's not going to live forever, despite all of the fandom jokes otherwise.

I'm thinking Bruce is 70, so Dick and Barbara would be 50s, Jason and Cass 45, Tim, Duke, and Stephanie 40s, and Damian is 35. Titus was replaced with a few other service dogs before Ace.

Maybe it's like Batman Beyond where Bruce drove everyone away. Maybe the Golden Age of Heroes wound down, with his contemporaries either dying or leaving him alone to stand vigil.

Maybe it's not. When his kids are grown with their lives and vigilantes or not, they can't be there 24/7 for Bruce.

I prefer the Batfamily is around, just that they have their own lives. Someone is always in the Manor in the mornings, but when Vigilante things happen, someone has to be home to make sure Bruce doesn't go out as well.

Bruce, thanks to his vigilante history, has heart issues, bone and joint issues, canon Childhood PTSD compounding with complex Vigilante PTSD, and bad reactions to drugs and medications thanks to all of the Chemical Attacks.

Bruce is still good at his ADLs (Activities of Daily Life). Things like walking without assistance, eating, showering, putting on clothes, and going to the bathroom.

He's gotten denture implants and is doing physical therapy enough to walk with a cane. He can't open jars, but he can still zip and button.

He's retired but still runs the Cave. He's mostly fine, but sometimes the Bats see him struggle. Someone finds him at the bottom of the stairs, unable to get up and refusing to say when he fell. Dick puts his foot down when Bruce has a heart attack.

The batfamily makes up a rotation sheet, but it's not enough. Vigilante first aid is different from elderly medical aid. Not to mention the mental and emotional toll that it's taking, seeing their parent/leader disabled and crabby as hell.

(also. Untrained family members who care for Alzheimer's patients by themselves have a severe risk of cutting their life short due to stress. Use the insurance. Get help.)

So they get Bruce a fully trained nurse assistant to check in every other day for the midmorning and a first aid assistant for the night time. And they'll keep rotation at "vigilante time" 9-9. It's flexible, he doesn't need them all of the time.

So about Terry. Despite everything, it's still Gotham. His family was held up at gunpoint after a trip to the movies. The gun does go off.

But it's also a Gotham with several active vigilantes.

The response was quick enough that only Warren was hit, and the gun was knocked on the ground fast enough so Mary was physically fine. They get taken to the hospital. Mary might remember which vigilante. Terry might need to see pictures.

Warren's insurance plan with Wayne-Powers is pretty great, he's off on disability for a few months. And Mary is pregnant, so as she was progressing she can't lift or help with heavy things. Terry tries to help. He's getting well versed in getting snacks, waters, basic house chores done, but he's only 8. There's no grandparents or extended family to call.

So they apply for help. The insurance sends a home medical assistant to come around a few days a week. And Terry sees how much it helps. How much of a burden that it lifts, how everyone in the house can breathe a little easier. That sticks with him.

When the insurance runs out and they still need help, Mary calls the support card that the Vigilantes gave her. They get a second volunteer (maybe a cousin of his highschool group? Chelsea or Dana?) that also helps.

The worst is over, Warren is safely back to work + working from home to help out, Mary is fully recovered, and baby Matt is perfectly healthy.

And Terry is restless. Energy spent worrying about his family and taking care of them is churning in him. He's lost some time with his friends and is feeling isolated.

The cracks become apparent in the parents marriage, it gets tense at home.

The second volunteer comes around sometimes to babysit him and Matt while Mary and Warren are "working their relationship out". They tell him about the community center that sets people up with job training and temp healthcare jobs like this. Activities for the neighborhood kids after school.

Luckily and unluckily, that's where Terry gets recruited into the Red Hood gang.

Jason isn't really using kids for gang things. Well. Keeping them as look outs, making them deliver care packages to the homeless/protected witnesses, maybe ferrying a little naloxone here and there to his addiction rehab centers. They know what they're doing is illegal, but it also helps the community. Terry is pretty content with that most of the time. Most of the time.

And then Charlie had to get it in his head he's going "Big Time", riles Terry up, and make them go off plan.

Terry and Charlie get caught, they get booked in Juvenile hall. They don't say anything, don't reveal about Red Hood's movements. (Not that Jason would tell any kids anything like that.)

Terry got out, his parents officially split, he went with his Dad, his Mom took his younger brother. Now that he doesn’t have Matt, he can’t go back to his gang friends, his parents don’t trust him, people are hesitant to trust him, he’s getting frustrated again.

The Bats are also...more focused on the Gotham villainy side of things, not the company. Dick never got a business degree so he can't really do anything, not that he was interested, Jason is dead + his civilian alias is handling Crime Ally, Tim is burnt out of CEO duties and recovering in R&D, and Damian tried, but he was frustrated in following his father's footsteps, so that was stopped.

Derek Powers is still a thing but not all "glowy". Warren brought up the weapons file + discrepancy to Tim, so Terry's dad is safe (for now).

So Jason sees this kid who wants to help but just needs to be mentored and his act cleaned up. And Bruce, who's a little bit listless and needs a project that won't be too taxing.

So the Batfamily talks and throws them together.

BUT ALSO - fun storylines:

Derek Powers tries to kill Bruce through his medical assistants. He's a manipulator, also trying to get Terry for cheap, but Terry isn't biting. Terry checking the medicine before giving it to Bruce and finding it wasn't the usual. (Bruce knew, but he also wanted to make sure no one was slacking.) IDK if the day nurse/pharmacy tech got turned by Powers but Terry was planned to take the fall.

Bruce subtly training him in stealth tactics and strategy. The rest of the Batfamily getting in on it too.

Terry was able to clock that "Father Peterson", a pillar of the Crime Alley Community, was a civilian alias of Red Hood. (Peterson checked in on him in juvie. His foot stance is similar to Red Hood, the cadence when he's talking with his goons slips, their morals don't directly align but do intersect, people thought they were grudging allies, but if they're the same person it tracks.) Terry does further digging and connects the deceased Jason Todd-Wayne's old photos to Peterson, but realizes, "oh. There's reasons why he doesn't involve his rich family", and decides not to bring it up.

Maybe finding an actual CEO replacement for Wayne-Powers? Stephanie could pull a Cinderella rags to riches story. Or have the Fox family come back? Tam or Luke?

Terry following Bruce down to the Batcave a couple months in. "Sure. A nerd Collection." But not actually believing that it's the Batfamily base until he sees the collection of suits. When the family shows up after patrol he just shrugs, "you told me stick by him."

[mamirhodessxox]

Can you do dating Cody Rhodes headcanon pls?

Cody Rhodes x Fem!Reader Headcanons

MDNI

Contents: Mentions of smut, Fluff, Alcohol, hints of violence (wwe), mentions of age gaps (LEGAL age gap, Reader is in her mid 20’s) oral sex & a size kink,

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23

Fluff

Codys love language is definitely acts of service & gift giving so whether you ask for it or not he’s always giving you gifts. Like a ridiculous amount. He can’t help it!! He’ll be at the store on his way home & sees something that reminds him of you so he gets it <3

The man is absolutely addicted to spending time with you, he doesn’t matter what you are doing he always wriggles himself into the current activity so he could be included, whether it’s cleaning, cooking, watching a show, he does not care

Cody is a Christmas lover, it’s all he thinks about, the minute November hits you’ll see him pulling decorations out of the garage & start setting up for the holidays.

He absolutely loves physical touch, if he’s cooking in the kitchen he 100% expects for you to be sitting all pretty on-top of the counter so when he has the chance he could stand in-between your legs and pull you into the warmest hug ever, if you two are in bed he holds you next to him no matter what, in public he refuses to let go of your hand and if he ever has to he literally becomes the biggest whiner over it.

Cody often makes jokes about your guy’s age difference since you’re in your mid 20’s and he’s in his late 30’s so anytime you catch an attitude you always hear him yell out from across the room “Well back in MYYY day..-“

Usually after his matches or promos at WWE your always waiting in his dressing room & help disinfecting any possible cuts that are on his face or arms even if they’re tiny cuts germs can always get into them & you did not need him getting wound infections

Cody loves going to the dog park with you & Pharaoh, he loves watching you play ball with the white furred husky & have a good time while he follows behind you. Sometimes you two just sit there in silence watching pharaoh have fun while you guys just enjoy each other’s company.

NSFW

He’s so open to trying new things especially when he knows he’d like some of the things he’d be willing to try, for example, You two tried out cock warning 1 TIME‼️ and now almost everyday he somehow fits time for you too just sit on his cock & watch you whine and pout when he refuses to give you any sort of friction.

Cody is a missionary man, he can do other things than missionary of course but he likes the intimacy, being ontop of you & putting his entire body weight on you as he’s quite literally balls deep inside of you & gets to see the facial expressions on your face when you cum really gets him off, knowing he’s pleasuring you & seeing it happen with just the way your face contorts & your body is convulsing is all he needs to make him cum. “I know baby, I know, it feels good doesn’t it? go on sweet girl cum for me, I know you can.”

He loves talking you through an orgasm, when he’s literally fucking you to the point of crying he’ll hold you close to him mid-fuck and remind you how good you’re taking his cock. “Y’doing so good for me princess, taking my fucking cock like the good little girl you are.”

In Cody’s eyes you’re a goddess to him. At first you think he’s just messing around when he acts obsessed with your body but you then realize he is dead serious. He’s obsessed with everything attached to you, he doesn’t USUALLY have overly rough sex with you unless he’s really eager, greedy or upset but MOST of the time he takes his sweet time to even fuck you, his hands get explorative he often leaves hickeys ontop of your breasts & then starts to eat you out & leave hickeys on your thighs & inner thighs before he actually gets to the point

Cody’s aware of the hand kink you have for him, he takes it to his advantage by keeping you full of his fingers “Yeah? Oh I know baby everything just feels so good that your so overwhelmed but aren’t you happy? Your pretty pussy is being fingered so fucking good.” He would shove his fingers in your mouth sometimes or even choke you the more you wanted his hands getting involved.

The man loves getting his dick sucked let’s be serious, but he loves it even more when he notices you literally get off on giving him a blowjob, if you ever acted up beforehand he would use that against you just as you start begging for him to use your mouth. “I don’t know baby do you think you deserve my dick? You know I don’t like brats that talk back and you were being a little bit of a brat today weren’t you?”

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