Kitchen Nightmares || Mitch Rapp X Reader

Kitchen Nightmares || Mitch Rapp x Reader

Prompt: i spent three hours cooking food for you, and you're polite enough to pretend you like it but i'm a horrible chef and i can tell by your face that you're lying (SCRENWRITER)

Words: 437

Warnings: swearing

Notes: very very short, but i wanted to write me some soft mitch

Mitch was good at keeping a straight face, he had to be; an agent couldn't afford to break their facade in the line of work he pours himself into. He was required to put up a mask and fake his way through situations, pretend to be something he's not, pretend to feel things that he wouldn't usually feel in that moment. You had never been with him on the field, but you knew that the way his eyebrow was slightly twitching, his lips quivering in the tiniest corner of his mouth, even the missing gleam in his chocolate eyes... he was lying.

"I'm not going to force you to eat it, Mitch." You mentioned, contemplating the pain on his face as he tried to chew and swallow the meal you placed before him nearly ten minutes ago. It was both amusing and tiring to watch him continue to play this game. You groaned loudly, hoping to catch his attention, "We can order take out. I'll let you choose what we have, I don't care. Just stop trying to please me."

"No, babe, you made this. I'm going to enjoy it." He spoke through a full mouth, words muffled completely to the point where you hardly caught any of the syllables. He winced as he swallowed the strange texture, flavors he had never tasted before sliding down the back of his throat. Mitch felt as if he had to be grateful - he was gone for three weeks on a mission in the Middle East, he hardly slept let alone hardly ate. He wasn't stupid and knew that you only wanted the best for him as you welcomed him home with a cooked meal. He also was very aware that you couldn't cook, at all. "It-it's fucking amazing... so good, babe, so... fucking good."

He wasn't fooling you. He never could. "This is what we're gonna do, tough guy. That shit right there, that I can absolutely tell you hate, by the way... is going in the trash. And then we are ordering Vietnamese food. You're gonna cuddle the crap out of me and then we're going to have long hours full of sex until we fall asleep naked in each other's arms. Got it?"

Your sudden dominance was provoking a twitch in his lower region, a gulp forming in his throat as your arms were paced upon your hips. He had never been so attracted to you. Mitch let out a shaky breath, accompanied by that famous wide grin that had been missing from your life for nearly a month. With licked lips, he groaned, "Fuck yes."

could you write something please with a reader being the mother of dylan’s son and like their son of 3/4 years ends up being really protective of his mom and jealous and like whenever dylan calls the reader baby or love their son also calls his moms like that. or when dylan starts to kiss the reader their son just broke their kiss saying no papa it’s my mommy and dylan tells him that’s he was there before him

Dylan O'Brien x Reader

The sound of a children's show played in the background as Dylan worked on his computer. His son's eyes, near duplicates of his own, watched as the characters sang and danced across the screen. He cherished the quiet moments like this with his family the most. He could hear you moving around in the back of the house doing something, the small tapping of Tony's nails against the hardwood floor as he followed you everywhere.

Dylan was always amazed at how quickly his life had changed over the last few years. His career was snowballing with jobs and roles coming in more than ever before. But his personal life was growing since he'd met you. He'd fallen in love, married, and how you both shared a son with the want to have more children.

The sound of footsteps caused his head to pop up and away from his computer, a small smile tugging on his lips as he watched you walk into the living room. No matter what, you always made his heart race and left him breathless.

"How's working coming along? Any good scripts?" You asked, walking around to sit on the couch beside him.

"A few, I'm marking the ones I like and sending them to my manager." Dylan set his laptop to the side before moving to face you more.

His arm stretched over the back of the couch the two of you sat on. Your son continued to play in front of the tv, his attention drawn away from the show still playing on the television. Dylan moved to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, kissing along the side of your neck, before kissing your lips softly. You giggle slightly against his lips - a noise that caught your son's attention.

"No...no...no..." a small child-like voice sounded, small feet rushing toward you.

Soon small hands grabbed at both your legs, making you pull away and look down at your son.

"Mommy...no, mine...my mommy." He whined and whimpered, reaching his hands out to you in a reaching motion.

Dylan couldn't help but roll his eyes and laugh as you reached down to grab your son. Since turning three, your little man has been in a new phase. A phase where he get's jealous any time Dylan shows you any sort of affection in front of him. He has a small little tantrum and always tries to pull Dylan away from you. All of you think of it as funny - except your son.

"My mommy," He pouts, his lower lip stuck out as he glared at his father. "No kisses."

"I can't kiss mommy?" Dylan asked. "Why not? Daddy loves kissing mommy."

"No! Mine!" Your son reaches over and wraps his arms around your neck and hugs you tightly. "Mine."

"Ok, baby, ok..." You rubbed his back softly. "Daddy is sorry."

"Can't even kiss my own wife." Dylan shakes his head and laughs again.

"I'm sure when the next one comes, she's gonna be a daddy's girl." You smiled, one of your hands reaching down to rub your slightly growing belly.

Hi can I do a Dylan o brien where the reader is sick so he looks after her ?? X

Not so Healthy || Dylan O'Brien x Reader

Words: 612

Warnings: swearing and cute dyl

[GIF]

"Don't come near me." You warned, hand outstretched as your body shuffled back against the plush cushioning of the couch. You could barely see through the swollen puffiness under your eyes and the glaze of sickness causing everything in your sight to appear hazy; but you could see HIM, approaching you slowly. You huffed as you realized that you couldn't move back any further, your body stuck for an escape. A sudden thump of your headache behind your sinuses provoked your head to fall back and a loud groan push through your cracked lips. "I don't want you to get sick, Dylan, it fucking sucks."

You could hear him chuckle before his knees hit the hardwood floor beside the couch, his lengthy fingers splayed over your bicep as it rubbed reassuringly up and down your arm. Dylan dropped his chin to your stomach and peered up at you through his dark lashes, the honey swirls of his eyes instantly warming your insides as you peered down to him. He cooed softly, "Let me nurse you back to health, baby. I wanna help". His lips pushed into a soft pout, the fingers dancing along your arm now dragging over your neck and tracing your jawline. He knew that the delicate touches he gave you always managed to soothe whatever pain you were in, physically or emotionally - and you appreciated every second of it.

His cooing got louder as he crawled further up your body, his lips ghosting the curve between your neck and shoulder. You sighed in content at how such simple and dainty actions can minimize your pain, even in the slightest. Your sweet moment was ruined when a sudden sneeze shot through you, flying over Dylan's head before your hand flew up to cover any more from escaping. You groaned loudly before pushing his head down and away from yours, "No... no kisses, no cuddles. I'll be damned if you end up like this. You need to go sit over there..." You spoke sternly, your trembling finger pointing to the lone armchair across the room.

In response, he scoffed. Dylan pushed himself up with hands perched on either side of your body, an eyebrow cocked in a challenging manner. "And what if I don't want to? What if I want to kiss you? What if I don't care about getting sick, huh?" He bit his lip at your disapproving expression as he tried to hold in a chuckle at your added stubborness. "You need painkillers and water. I'll get you some soup, anything... but there's no way that I'm gonna let you suffer through this by yourself. Just let me help you. I'll even put on a sexy nurse costume, ya know, if that seals the deal..."

It was your turn to giggle like a little schoolgirl, head shaking and smile finally wide upon your lips. The image of your boyfriend dressed in a sexually provocative Halloween costume now burnt in the back of your mind and you silently thanked him for it with a squeeze of your hand over his. "We both know that that'd totally make me feel better. God, you'd look so hot..."

"Okay, calm down. Can't have you getting all aroused when you can barely stay awake right now." He quipped, squeezing your hand back. Dylan stood quickly and leant in to press a chaste kiss to your overly warm forehead, provoking a small frown when he pulled back again. "You definitely need meds. Then we'll cuddle and watch and movie and eat soup, alright? Maybe gazpacho." He gently pushed your hair back and grinned at your gracious expression.

"Thank you for being the best nurse."

Look me in the eye and try to tell me this: “Acting tough will not make it hurt any less, you know this, yes?” isn't utterly perfect for cowboy!Mitch 😍 Like whether it's him or reader who got hurt (and we both know they're equally foolhardy lmao)

send me a PROMPT for a 'new muse' blurb ~

Notes : it's TOO perfect for him! ugh cowboy mitch gets to meeee.

"ACTING TOUGH WILL NOT MAKE IT HURT ANY LESS, YOU KNOW THIS, YES?" | COWBOY!MITCH

Squinted amber hues were met with a quirked brow as you looked pointedly toward the man, your words provoking a loud scoff from the hoarseness that gathered in his throat. Mitch couldn't help but think utter ridiculousness of your sentiment - not that he didn't agree with its truthfulness, but rather so, he couldn't afford to fall short of his resilient and gritty character. Being the town's Deputy meant that Mitch needed to be strong, doughty, indestructible. He did have to act tough. His eyes slowly drifted down to your form as you pressed a damp cloth against his exposed side, sopping up remnants of blood that surrounded his freshly sliced wound. He winced, and you noticed.

"It's just a scratch." His voice was gravelly as he attempted to hide the pain that spiked his tone, choosing to immediately shut his mouth and grind his teeth as an alternative expression of pain. He shifted uncomfortably on the rickety barstool when you pressed further against the wound, the scraping of metal on metal echoing loudly amongst the dead atmosphere of the Saloon, only seen possible past closing time. He growled under his breath before hearing a quiet snicker, the curling lips of a smirk present between your cheeks only indicating that you did it on purpose.

"A scratch wouldn't have hurt that bad." You said, glancing up to the man when you felt his focus boring into you. Usually, he was the one possessing the over-protective trait; quick to swoop you out of harm's way and dictate the millions of consequences that would come from your rowdiness. Mitch was always there to catch you if you fell, and you even began to wonder whether he purposely followed you around just in case you found yourself in yet another troublesome situation. Regardless of his staunchness, it was incredibly endearing. "And I certainly don't think that a stab to the side counts nearly as close as a scratch, mind you. You're lucky you're alive, Deputy."

"Y/N, we've been over this-" He began, sucking in a sharp breath as you finished cleaning the open gash. He shook his head, breath releasing slowly as his voice dropped low, "You can call me Mitch."

You sounded a scoff, a resonant of puerility that was incredibly mocking "Oh, I'm well aware. But would calling you by your name get me the same reaction as it would calling you by your title? I think not." Legs pushed you upright as you gathered the red-stained rags, hands quick to ball them up as they were thrown haphazardly into an empty wooden barrel, and Mitch jested a groan at your sentiment whilst teeth sunk to his lip. Once again, you could sense the durability of his gaze meandering over your movements, watching as you continued to patch up the poor man after his unlucky confrontation with a common thief.

It was now easier to see the small smile that tugged between your cheeks as you spun on your heel toward him, a sewing needle and spool pin grasped lightly as you fiddled with them between hesitant fingers. You breathed out lightly before crouching back to Mitch's side, "What can I say, there's just something about gettin' under your skin there, that brings a little light to my days."

He was still toying at his lip; the need to release it quickly became apparent as it began to grow numb under its clamp, soon it would draw blood and he was sure you would reprimand him for yet another reddened wound. He exhaled heavily, an intent to steady his breathing as he awaited the next step of your aid and the inevitable misery to follow. It wasn't until he looked back down to your willingness to patch him up that Mitch started to settle into the stool, watching as you thread your needle, "You're a tease, darlin', ya know that? I'll have you saying my name one o' these days, maybe even screaming it if I'm lucky."

You didn't need to look at the man to know that his eye dropped into a low wink, the tone of his voice suggesting playfulness and rowdy jest. He liked to wind you up, that's why you wound him right the hell back. With a gentle head shake, you lifted your eyes until they met his caramel swirls that you've gotten to know so well, your needle now held high in the air with a threatening pose, "Keep talking sweet like that, and I'll be the one makin' you scream for all the wrong reasons, Cowboy."

It was hidden, only slightly by the angle he sat at whilst his elbow perched upon the bartop, when Mitch gulped down at the intimidation that you wore so damn well. He even thought that if he wasn't so alert in the moment, then a slight moan of appreciative attraction would've slipped so nonchalantly from him. He was quick to remain silent after that, but more so to retain concentration as he admired your quick handiwork.

"Okay-" You began, taking a deep breath to balance yourself. The skirt you wore was spread around your body as you kneeled on the ground, a near-perfect circle framing you as you mentally prepared yourself for the upcoming round of Mitch's pain. You held up a leather belt, folded over each other exactly four times before handing it to Mitch and pointing at your mouth. He immediately understood, teeth clamping around the material to prevent his future growls and screams from echoing through your night-filled sleepy town.

"Now, I'm no doctor, but I've seen this procedure more times than I could count on one hand. Do you trust me.. Mitch?"

Mitch nodded, instantly. Cheeks reddening at the use of his name, however, the leather prevented him from any further commentary. He saw your grin, and knew, just knew, that you calculated your words perfectly in time with his inability to talk.

Mitch was so incredibly taken by you.

One last draw of breath, and you smiled wider, "Let's finish patching you up."

Where Stiles Lives Out His Dream.... || Headcanon

Pairing : Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Warnings : just cuteness, maybe like one swear word?

Notes : had this idea for a while, NWH definitely boosted it though!

it started in kindergarten

a five-year-old stiles wearing the same spiderman shirt every day for the first week

surprisingly, claudia wasn't bothered washing it each night

especially when he got it covered in paint and food and.. god knows what actually caused the stain on the left hand sleeve..

one would think that he had that darn action figure superglued to his hand

he refused to let it go, just like that shirt

his obsession never faltered, though

only growing more the older he got

and when he finally watched the movies.. his life changed

stiles was nine-years-old when his dad let him watch the first two tobey maguire movies

he was enthralled by watching spiderman swing around on his webs and fight the bad guys

his large honey eyes were glued to the screen and widened in wonder

and when peter parker finally got the girl, he felt a warmth settle in his chest

a strange warmth that he couldn't describe, not until he was old enough to properly understand

noah stilinski was looking over case files when he felt his son tug at his shirt

stiles only grinned, "dad can i have a mj?"

and noah only shook his head

he smiled back though, admiration etched over his worry lines

"not yet, son"

"dad... is mom your mj?"

and noah only laughed, eyes flickering to a sickly looking woman grinning at her boys' interaction

"she definitely is"

it was freshman year and stiles had turned fifteen-years-old

he wore a large grin to complement his red t-shirt and dark flannel

a large black spider symbol gracing his chest

by now his ADD has grown and he wasn't very good at focusing

it wasn't until he walked straight into another body that he snapped back into reality

abandoning his conversation with his best friend scott to help the poor girl that fell

this is when you first laid eyes on the adorable doofus you'd quite quickly call friend

you grasped his hand tightly as he pulled you up

the boy even dropped back to the floor to pick up your belongings

you thanked him and offered a smile

but you saw his shirt and bit your bottom lip

stiles very much noticed

"i like your shirt" you said before your eyes glanced up from his chest

all that stiles did was laugh nervously

he was shaky and you could tell he was highly-strung

what you couldn't tell though is that he was actually breathless

you were beautiful

kind of like lydia martin beautiful

but your cute attitude and kindness is what set you apart

and when you said you liked his shirt it meant you liked spiderman

that made you automatically perfect to stiles

eighteen-years-old and stiles was now in his jeep, driving to yours

you had been dating since you were sixteen

he asked you at your birthday party if you'd like to go on a date

this was after he handed you a giant present half the size of roscoe

you said yes immediately, and that warmth returned from when he was younger

the warmth that he got when he saw peter in love with mj

it made him think that one day, you'd officially be his mj and the thought made him smile so fucking wide

presently, you were receiving a text to meet your boyfriend outside

you were expecting him, but usually, he'd make his way inside your home

with a key that he acquired from a source he wouldn't tell you about

you walked outside and it was dark

the jeep was in your driveway but stiles was nowhere to be found

you made a move to walk down the steps of your front porch

but a yell scared you into jumping back

a scream escaping through your lips

stiles appeared in front of you, his body hanging upside down from the roof

he had a large grin between his cheeks and his eyes glistened with mischief

he crooned, a little chuckle sounding his words

"hey baby"

reaching out to hit his chest was a bad idea when he slightly maneuvered

your fingers grasped his shirt to hold him still before he could fall

and then

....trust your luck....

the ten o'clock sprinkler system was activated and you both began to get soaked

you glared at stiles

he laughed

and soon you were laughing too

your fingers remained holding his now crumpled, and soaked, spiderman t-shirt from freshman year

you hummed, "you know what this looks like, right?"

and stiles shook his head, but

his eyes were stuck to your wet matted hair and glowing skin from the water beads

"you're like spiderman and i'm like... mj"

he realised the scene you were referring to

the warmth returned

this time it was stronger

it had a forceful pull that gravitated his lips to yours

and finally, it ignited his body with fire coursing through his veins

your lips were joined and your hands moved from his chest to his cheeks

holding him

caressing him

stiles moaned softly as his right hand snaked around to your back

pushing you closer to his saturated frame

your bodies stuck to one another but you didn't care

not when your tongue slipped past his desperate lips

his needy teenage hormones got the best of him , though

he wanted to merge your bodies even closer until all he could feel was the slick wet skin under your shirt

and one move of desire later nearly led stiles to fall once again

you pulled back to hold him steady

lips swollen

his face now turning red

only, it was from the blood rushing rather than just a bashful flush of rosy cheeks

stiles didn't care though, despite your worrying and cursing under your breath

he smiled, teeth gleaming, eyes sparkling

he felt everything all at once when he kissed you

the kind of emotions and sensations that meant that his love for you preceded everything else

and he knew

he... just knew

"you're my mj"

👼🏼 revealing a pregnancy with Dylan please love?

send me EMOJI PROMPTS for a ’blurb time’ blurb -

[ 👼🏼 ] : revealing a pregnancy.

Teeth sunk down into your bottom lip, a sure way to maintain an overly excited squeal as you glanced at the positive pregnancy test in the palm of your hand. The thumping of your heart reverberated against the casing of your ribs, hands quivering, eyes slowly becoming hazy with a fresh glaze of tears. The butterflies fluttering in your chest was a sign of nervousness but you still couldn't tire the widened smile tugging at your lips. You were currently perched on the edge of your couch with anticipation, and you were sure that telling your boyfriend of your pregnancy would be just as exciting as finding out yourself. Everything will be perfect.

You flinched in the slightest as you heard the front door click, familiar heavy footsteps of your boyfriend's boots echoing down the hallway. He called out that he was home, but you couldn't reply - your voice potentially wavering, and you simply wouldn't ruin the surprise. Your fingers fell deep into the pocket of your jacket, the test slipping between the fabric before you managed to push yourself from the couch. It wasn't until you saw the bright glow of his brown eyes round the corner, that you knew, that you wanted your unborn child to share the same beautiful hue.

Dylan's face immediately softened when he saw your frame waiting for him, arms held out to encase around your body and pull you flush against his front. His head ducked down to pepper gentle kisses over your forehead, his lips trailing up into your hairline. You could feel him hum against your skin and the simplest of actions have never made you feel so loved. "Hey, sweetheart." He murmured, taking his time to give you a gentle squeeze, his body rocking you both momentarily side-to-side. Your arms snaked out from between you to wrap around his back, hands flat and rubbing over his spine. He sunk with contentedness. "How was your day?"

You didn't mean to, but your body stiffened. The excitement from the past hour creeping over your exposed skin and leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake. You wanted to tell him, so desperately, but the way he pulled away from you and presented a look of concern made your elation somewhat deflate. Your eyes grew wide when you realised that there was a misunderstanding. You bit your lip again, the corners of your mouth still able to quirk into a smile as one of your hands cupped his cheek. Your head shook, "I have something to show you. It's not bad, I promise. I'm just... I really need you to sit down for this." You spoke, finding hilarity in the way Dylan's own eyes scrunched in confusion before he obeyed your request.

Unable to resist, you perched yourself across his lap, legs hanging over his left leg as his right arm circled around your frame to support you. Close proximity like this is what got you in this situation in the first place, but his comfort was too tempting. He was still baffled by the odd occasion but still leant in as you placed a slow and tender kiss on his lips. They remained pursed as you pulled away, chasing your own set before lifting into a playful smirk. "What's got you so affectionate?" He wondered aloud, chin dropping to your shoulder, eyes trained on yours.

You grabbed his left hand and gave it a tight squeeze before uncurling his fingers, your own eyes making sure that he wouldn't look away from your joint gaze. He was so utterly mesmerising to look at, to the point where you nearly dropped the test before placing it in his hand, pushing his lengthy fingers back over it. Gentle kisses pressed to Dylan's forehead before he pulled back, his eyebrow once again cocked with playful scepticism before looking casually at the object in his grasp.

It was sudden when his face fell into absolute shock. He didn't expect to see the test in his hand, and better yet, he didn't expect to see two large red lines dawning the result screen. His mouth fell ajar and rapid breaths began to escape him, his brown eyes glazed with a set of tears which only opened the flood works of your own. His head shook but it couldn't delay the growing width of his grin as he flashed an expression of exhilaration. You could feel his body shaking and it reminded you of earlier when the adrenaline was running through every vein you owned. He finally looked into your eyes, droplets that had gathered on his lash line now rolling down his cheek, "Are you serious? Are we having a baby?"

You nodded, letting your tears also run free, not wanting them to stop if it meant staying in this beautiful moment with your boyfriend. You moved forward to lock your lips again, his sweetness mixed with the saltiness of your tears, the depth of your union increasing when tongues swiped across one another. Moans of pleasure so easily blended with groans of happiness and unspoken moments of love. You released his bottom lip as it slid out between your own, foreheads now joined together, breathing patchy and laboured.

You gulped before nuzzling your nose against his, "You're going to be an amazing father, Dylan."