#“i did it! i pet the cat!” SOBS
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He's so cute- punching a wall rn
#biting him like a dog toy and shaking him around nobody touch me im in tears#“i did it! i pet the cat!” SOBS#this is the best part of nightbringer#obey me#obey me nightbringer#elliot rambles#currently on the floor sobbing over this fuckin guy
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examining a seemingly normal image only to slowly realize the clear signs of AI generated art.... i know what you are... you cannot hide your true nature from me... go back where you came from... out of my sight with haste, wretched and vile husk
#BEGONE!!! *wizard beam blast leaving a black smoking crater in the middle of the tumblr dashboard*#I think another downside to everyone doing everything on phone apps on shitty tiny screens nowadays is the inability to really see details#of an image and thus its easier to share BLATANTLY fake things like.. even 'good' ai art has pretty obvious tells at this point#but especially MOST of it is not even 'good' and will have details that are clearly off or lines that dont make sense/uneven (like the imag#of a house interior and in the corner there's a cabinet and it has handles as if it has doors that open but there#are no actual doors visible. or both handles are slightly different shapes. So much stuff that looks 'normal' at first glance#but then you can clearly tell it's just added details with no intention or thought behind it. a pattern that starts and then just abruptly#doesn't go anywhere. etc. etc. )#the same thing with how YEARS ago when I followed more fashion type blogs on tumblr and 'colored hair' was a cool ''''New Thing''' instead#of being the norm now basically. and people would share photos of like ombre hair designs and stuff that were CLEARLY photoshop like#you could LITERally see the coloring outside of the lines. blurs of color that extend past the hair line to the rest of the image#or etc. But people would just share them regardless and comment like 'omg i wish I could do this to my hair!' or 'hair goallzzzz!! i#wonder what salon they went to !!' which would make me want to scream and correct them everytime ( i did not lol)#hhhhhhggh... literally view the image on anything close to a full sized screen and You Will SEe#I don't know why it's such a pet peeve of mine. I think just as always I'm obsessed with the reality and truth of things. most of the thing#that annoy me most about people are situations in which people are misinterpreting/misunderstanding how something works or having a misconc#eption about somehting thats easily provable as false or etc. etc. Even if it's harmless for some random woman on facebook to believe that#this AI generated image of a cat shaped coffee machine is actually a real product she could buy somewhere ... I still urgently#wish I could be like 'IT IS ALL AN ILLUSION. YOU SEE???? ITS NOT REALL!!!!! AAAAA' hjhjnj#Like those AI shoes that went around for a while with 1000000s of comments like 'omg LOVE these where can i get them!?' and it's like YOU#CANT!!! YOU CANT GET THEM!!! THEY DONT EXIST!!! THE EYELETS DONT EVEN LINE UP THE SHOES DONT EVEN#MATCH THE PATTERNS ARE GIBBERISH!! HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE THEY ARE NOT REAL!??!!' *sobbing in the rain like in some drama movie*#Sorry I'm a pedantic hater who loves truth and accuracy of interpretation and collecting information lol#I think moreso the lacking of context? Like for example I find the enneagram interesting but I nearly ALWAYS preface any talking about it#with ''and I know this is not scientifically accurate it's just an interesting system humans invented to classify ourselve and our traits#and I find it sociologically fascinating the same way I find religion fascinating'. If someone presented personality typing information wit#out that sort of context or was purporting that enneagram types are like 100% solid scientific truth and people should be classified by the#unquestionaingly in daily life or something then.. yeah fuck that. If these images had like disclaimers BIG in the image description somewh#re like 'this is not a real thing it's just an AI generated image I made up' then fine. I still largely disagree with the ethics behind AI#art but at least it's informed. It's the fact that people just post images w/o context or beleive a falsehood about it.. then its aAAAAAA
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everyone say hi to my neighbor’s cat because she was being really cute today <3
#I HAVE NEVER HEARD HER MEOW BEFORE AND THIS FIRST TIME I DID SHE SOUNDS LIKE A FUCKING KITTEN#sobbing rn#who let her be so cute#text post#cats#cats :3#pets#calico#cats of tumblr#that’s my cat!!!
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my γιαγια was mostly lucid today :’)
#did not recognise me (expected) but knew to comment on the fact that I’d tanned and asked me how I’d been#which is good! considering how most days she’s talking to people on the ceiling unintelligibly#i had to leave the room though i don’t think I could’ve stayed longer without sobbing#pet the cat instead#that was my overshare of the time period#con rambles
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Had a dream last night. I tipped over a box I and my cat (we’ll call her Tiki) were in when I was getting out, but out ran not only Tiki, but Tiki’s sister who died almost a year ago, who we’ll call Taka; and the cat who helped raise them as kittens who we’ll call Moomoo (she looked like a cow lol).
I immediately figured out that it was a dream, and I gasped a grief-filled little gasp, then walked over to Taka. I got to pet for the first time in almost a year. She was so soft, and I almost started crying.
But as all creatures do, she had to leave. We were now in my living room, so she walked across the carpet and then turned behind the couch where I couldn’t see her. I knew this meant my visit was over. A little past where she had turned, was sitting Tiki. She was looking over at me where I had been petting Taka as if she knew what had happened. She seemed so sad. I can’t remember if I said anything, probably “Oh Tiki…” if anything, but I went over and starting comforting her, petting her. Her fur was so soft at first, but then it turned…old, if that makes sense; not as soft, and…more rough? This just made me even sadder; I had seen this dream as some kind of spiritual thing, where I got to see Moomoo and give Taka pets from beyond the grave, so this just made me think that Tiki was gonna pass soon.
And then I woke up. Bawled like a baby, obviously.
I’m choosing to believe that I actually got to pet Taka’s spirit even tho I don’t really believe in spirits lol, but that my ‘vision’ of Tiki’s near demise was just my anxieties.
#also I feel so bad about Moomoo. she was there too for a second but I only gave Taka pets.#and it was indirectly my fault she died anyway.#one of our house windows didn’t have screen on it‚ but I didn’t realize that.#I forgot I left it open and went to bed‚ so Moomoo and Taka escaped#We found Taka in the morning‚ just sitting outside the door‚ but Moomoo was never to be found#my mom was super pissed at me (unfair; I may have *opened* the window‚ but it’s not like anyone else noticed it was still open) and kept-#-trying to get me to go look for Moomoo‚ but I thought she’d be fine. she’d come back eventually.#but she never did. she was probably eaten by one of the predators we had in our area.#and like. I didn’t even properly mourn her. I wasn’t that close to her.#I was in the middle of the throes of depression when she died‚ was always in my room with the door closed‚ and even now can’t remember a-#-time we interacted. which doesn’t mean it didn’t happen (~depression memoryyy~) but it clearly wasn’t often or impactful enough for me#so basically. she deserved so much better :(#well no. slight correction. I don’t remember being close to her past x-grade. I distinctly recall sobbing at the *thought* that she might-#-grow old and die‚ when I was in x-grade. She was MY cat in x-grade.#tw pet loss#the softer side of mourning#(at least that’s how I view it)#tw pet death#for the tags
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outage ༄ joel miller one shot (18+)
-> pairing: no-outbreak joel miller au x female curvy reader
-> word count: 4.3k
-> summary: after a citywide power outage, you're left to deal with the scorching texas heat. until, the well-respected neighborhood dilf — joel miller — lends you a more than generous hand.
-> warnings/tags: sarah is 10/11 so joel had her a bit older, power outage, texas heat, yes this is a warning because its not a joke, reader has a cat!!!, age gap (reader is 24, joel is late 40s), curvy/mid/plus size reader, brief fatphobia, reader has self-image/parent issues + is a lonely gal, fluff, SMUT (18+), unprotected piv, creampie, oral + fingering (f!recieving), squirting, body worship, brief ass play, daddy kink, big ole tits, spanking, spit kink, praise kink, a bit of belly bulge, cockwarming, pet names galore (darlin, sweetheart, baby, _ girl), joel has a huge dick (not canon!)
-> a/n: hi hi! i have been so anxious to begin writing again and currently have some wips that i am just not confident with. so when i saw the lovely @hellishjoel post her #hotdilfsummerchallenge, i was positive i wanted to join in! such a pleasure to be involved in this — thank you kylee for creating such a fun way for this community to get involved! as a curvier woman, i wanted reader to reflect that. because... joel miller is a handsy mf and loves to just grab himself some wide hips, thick thighs and phat tits <3 but ofc, this is can be for various body types. please please please, leave your thoughts and even constructive criticism! <3 DILF NEIGHBOR JOEL, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!!
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
You release a groan of annoyance as the visual of your TV, coffee table lamp and humming of the refrigerator all flicker off into silence. The frills on your throw-blanket settle, as the ceiling fan no longer produces the small gusts of wind that have caused you to be rather chilly on this hot, humid and rainy summer night.
When you made the courageous decision of moving across the country for a new teaching opportunity in Austin — you were never informed on the true brutality summertime unleashed onto Texas residents. More-so, you really had nothing to do but be caged up in the comfortable AC of your home. You’ve been here for roughly 14 months and the only "friends" you’ve made have been the 28 fourth graders you had the pleasure of teaching last school year. Tragic.
Your coworkers, did not handle your arrival pleasantly. Young, beautiful, freshly-educated and determined. That’s what your grandmother referred to you as when you called her sobbing after your first week. Informing her that the seasoned teachers won’t even bat an eye at you, and when they do it’s a look of disgust. Whispering amongst one another. Like you were in middle school again, trying to befriend the popular girls.
“I was foolish to think things could be different for me down here, so stupid of me.”
“Now listen to me, you are the most intelligent woman I know. More than anyone in this family. Bullies like that, it stems from an unknown jealousy and overbearing insecurity. Don’t let a few sour grapes ruin this outstanding career for you. Your students adore you already, and so do I. Just continue to be yourself and if that isn’t enough for them, so be it.”
Your grandmother always knew how to make you feel better. She had been instilling your own sense of confidence since you were a little girl. The only adult in your life to do so. If only her words were enough. Your coworkers just never let up. After overhearing them gossip about you during lunch break, you gave up your attempts indefinitely.
“She really thinks she deserves a place here?”
“Look at her back rolls in that shirt…”
“She really needs to put that sandwich down.”
“Why is she so quiet? It’s freaky, honestly. No wonder she’s always alone.”
You’re not a stranger to being alone. You practically have been your entire life. Your parents never really bothered to form a genuine relationship with you, always so focused on your younger sister. She was the prettier, thinner, more impressive version of you. You have only had one best friend throughout your long 24 years on this earth. She was smarter than you and moved away from the timid small town you shared in Northern Maine, choosing an out-of-state university. So, being alone was a familiarity. You have made peace with it. But being lonely — that’s a whole other ball-park.
The booming thwack of thunder startles you from your thoughts. Your sweet calico boy leaps from your warm lap and scurries under the dining table — tail puffed in fear. “Milo... it’s okay,” you whisper. He just gleams at you with his jet-black saucer eyes. Even you don’t believe your own words. You are not used to storms like this, and you didn’t really prepare. You read some articles online about stocking up: having plently of batteries, candles, non-perishable foods. Yet, you didn’t do any of that.
Rubbing away the moisture from your damp upper lip — the heat inside your home already becoming unbearable. Deciding on a whim, you can head to a nearby hotel for the night. Unsure how long you will be without power and don’t wish to succumb yourself or your cat to the searing temperatures of the night.
The rain has slowed down, as you feel the soft patter on your umbrella. Throwing your purse and water bottle in the front seat, you begin to dread unpacking all this stuff when you get to the hotel. Bags, cat litter, cage — scrutinizing yourself mentally and deciding you better fucking prepare for the next storm.
“Where ya headin’ sweetheart?”
Your heart jumps at the deep smooth Southern voice that fills your thoughts at night. When your hands would find their way in between your quivering legs. Throughout the day. Pretty much all the time.
Joel Miller is the only person in this town that has ever filled the lonely void you can never seem to fill. When you moved to the quiet suburban street, he was the first to come greet you as you struggled to pull your mattress out of the U-Haul. Immediately lending a hand, and proceeding to lug all of your remaining boxes, furniture, miscellaneous items into your new home.
“Pretty lady like you, shouldn’t have to lift a single finger.” He remarked when you you blushed and assured him you could handle the rest, not wanting to be a burden. Even though the sweat dripping down your back was apparent and 5 minutes prior you had no idea how you’d be able to unpack the remainder of the truck. He then assured you — there was no way in hell you were being a burden. Words that were a rarity.
Later that afternoon, he invited you for dinner at his home. You met his lovely daughter, Sarah. Where everyone learned that you were her new school teacher. What were the odds?
Following that, seeing Joel was frequent. From parent-teacher conferences, backyard barbecues for the neighborhood, or even small intimate dinners with Sarah at each others homes. Sarah would even spend the night at yours on occasion. When Joel had a late night at the construction site, or when she just needed some girl time. You adored that little girl, and vice versa.
You also adored the fuck out of Joel.
So when you looked up at his porch, finding him in nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants.. your throat went dry. His tanned skin gleamed softly from the street light — little speckled freckles adorned his waist in various spots. And that darkish grey hair on his chest and fat of his lower tummy that flowed underneath his pants. Your brain fuzzy at the thought of your face pressed against it as you swallow his cock.
But you were not a fool. Joel would never express an attraction towards you. A man like that? He deserved the perfect woman.
“Darlin’?” He speaks again, a bit louder. Disturbing your wandering thoughts.
“I- I was gonna head to a hotel for the night, my house is too hot already. And I don’t want Milo to be uncomfortable.”
Joel’s eyes wander down your body as you explain — the plush jiggle of your tits in that small tank. Nearly spilling out. Slightly damp from the rain or humidity. The chub of your tummy spills slightly from your leggings. A sight that makes his cock swell unbearingly. An act that occurs more often than not when he sees you or even thinks of you for the countless minutes of his day.
“No way. Not gonna let ya drive in this weather. Plus, most hotels nearby are gonna be overbooked. I got the generator up n’ working, got the spare room too. Your stayin’ over.”
“No! No, Joel. I can’t.”
“N’ why not?” His hands have found his way to his hips, popping a knee out and giving you that classic dad glare. Not angry, but confused as to why you’re even protesting when he’s already decided.
“I don’t want to intrude and I have Milo. You and Sarah are allergic.”
“Sarah left yesterday to stay with her mom in California for the rest of the summer. Besides, Milo loves me. I can handle a runny nose as long as I know the two of ya are safe.”
To this, your stomach nearly flips inward on itself. You’ve never been alone with Joel in his home. Not for this long. The few times you’ve come over to help him with dinner before Sarah got home from soccer practice, have always been excruciating. Staring at him without worry. Watching his muscles flex through his t-shirts. Big hands chopping vegetables and plating food. His hand lightly touching your waist when scooting by.
There’s no possible way you can survive a night in Joel’s home.
But, he’s already grabbing his umbrella and walking over to you. He grabs your stuff from the car and tells you to go grab Milo. So, you do.
Joel slips on a t-shirt after he put your stuff in the spare room, disappointedly enough. You nearly told him to keep it off, but held your tongue. You made yourself comfortable at the island barstool as you typed up some early lesson plans, Milo at your feet.
He patters over to Joel who is now leaning against the counter, brushing against his leg. He then leaps onto the granite and purrs against Joel’s arm.
“Psst! Milo get do-“ you beg, embarrassment coloring your cheeks.
“S’ okay, sweetheart. He’s not botherin’ me,” Joel attempts to settle your nerves. Petting Milo’s soft fur and scratching under his chin, that special spot all cats love. “Can I get you anythin’ to drink?” He nods towards the coffee he’s brewing.
“Coffee would be nice, thank you.” You beam at him. Joel’s heart skips a beat every time your cheeks puff up ever so slightly when you smile at him. It’s something he swears is the most endearing thing about you. Of course, he’s only ever shared that with his daughter. Who begs her father to just take her favorite teacher on a date already.
Joel grabs some sugar and oat milk from the fridge, your favorite. He learned from the few breakfasts you guys had shared. A bit of sugar and a nice gulp of milk softens the dark roast color in the mug, he slides it over to you as he grabs his plain black coffee.
“You remembered!” You giggle slightly at the Number 1 Dad title that adorns the mug, taking a sip. You moan at the taste, exactly how you like it.
“Of course I did, darlin’.” You almost hate how easily those pet names roll of his tongue. You summed it up as his southern hospitality, figured he calls any woman those special names. “So, you ready for this new school year?”
An icky feeling settles in your stomach. The thought of returning to the painful and toxic work environment you can only escape when you’re with your students.
“Not without my Sarah girl,” you swiftly change the subject towards the one person he can talk hours about.
He smiles proudly at her name.
“Ya know, she still all mad that you wouldn’t flunk her so she could have another year with ya.” Both your laughs quickly fill the empty house.
“Well, even if I tried to, that girl is too smart for her own good. She should skip a grade in my opinion.” You state, and you’re truthful at that. Sarah Miller is as intelligent as she is quick-witted.
“Yeah, she gets it from me.” At that you roll your eyes playfully. Typing something up before closing your computer and taking another sip of coffee. “Although I love boastin’ over her, I guess I meant are you excited to go back? They treat ya good there?”
Joel watches the color drain from your soft skin. Realizing he touched somewhere that might be too personal. Too raw. “M’ sorry sweetheart, shouldn’t have asked.”
“No- no uh, you’re fine. Um, honestly? No. I’m not excited. The staff there aren’t exactly the kindest bunch.” You confess, slight unease crawling over you.
Joel’s eyes scrunch in confusion. Mind blank on how the kindest soul he knows, could be surrounded by complete opposite. “Whatcha mean?”
You sigh letting the anxiousness settle a bit before speaking again, “they hate me. I don’t even know why, really? I have tried my hardest to get them to accept me but nothing seems to work. Whether it’s jabs at my appearance, teaching style, they’re never satisfied.” Your eyes are burning slightly, haven’t confessed this burden you constantly carry to anyone. “If it wasn’t for your daughter and my class, and… you.. well, I think I wouldn’t have made it through. I try to be strong, I try to be everything that people expect from me but it’s just so hard, Joel.” At that, the fat tears begin to stream down your face.
Joel was frozen in shock. Or maybe anger. Protectiveness. He wanted to hurt the people who made you feel like this. The least deserving of any pain. He sets his mug down and snatches you in his embrace. Holding your head with his hand, stroking your back with the other. He lets you sob almost uncontrollably into his firm chest.
“I just hate being so alone.” You whisper, clutching onto him. You can’t even be embarrassed anymore, you’re so overthrown by his scent, his comfort. Comfort you’ve not felt in so so long.
Joel kisses your temple softly, "promise you're not alone, sweet girl." He nudges your head to look up at his own sorrowful expression. His thumb running over your full lips, a bit swollen from your teeth biting down on them in an attempt to muffle your sobs. "So beautiful." He murmurs as he leans down to place a kiss on your left cheek, his lips skim over yours before he places another on your right.
Joel just barely hears the whimper from the back of your throat when that feather light skim happened. He leans back half an inch, staring into your glossy eyes. "Tell me not to, and I'll let you go upstairs and get some rest. Tell me, sweetheart."
It feels like a whole minute passes by. The soft patter of the rain, the smell of coffee beans from each others breath, the same slow breathing that overwhelms the little space between you both.
Desperation.
Your fingers tighten on his shirt, "don't let me go upstairs, Joel."
Joel smashes his mouth into yours, his guttural groan flying into your soft whimpers. The softness Joel expressed a moment ago is long gone. This kiss is messy, teeth-clanking, tongue inside your mouth. Like he wants to devour you from the outside in. He releases your lip with a pop.
He threads his thick fingers through the base of your hair and yanks it back gently, tongue on your neck. Biting the skin there. "You're so soft, baby. Just need me to mark ya up, is that right?"
You nod as hard as you can despite his harsh grip on your locks.
"I need you to use your words, sweet girl. Let me know what you're thinkin'."
"Everything you do is okay. I want more. I need it all. Please."
"Oh baby, cm'ere," he wraps your lavish thighs around his waist and hoists you into his arms. Easily. Like you're just the most delicate thing he's ever held.
As he walks to his bedroom, you smile into his neck. Arms wrapped over his shoulders, hand rubbing ever so softly at his greying curls. You bite at the skin under his ear and he gives your ass a huge squeeze. Groaning at how his big hands barely hold all the meat there. He couldn't wait to touch and gnaw at this body he loved.
At the foot of his bed, he taps your leg as if telling you to get down. You stand in front of his massive overbearing figure, staring up at him lustfully. You grab the bottom of your compression tank top and pull it over your head, revealing your unsupported chest. Your heavy tits fall a bit.
"My god," Joel falls to his knees in front of you, face nearly level with your pebbled nipples. Both his hands grab a fistful of each, rolling them in his palm. Your sweet noises fill the room and he swears he might've just came in his pajama pants right there. He takes his teeth and bite at the fat above your leggings, licking and sucking at a sensitive part of you. Literally and figuratively.
Joel abandons your chest to yank your leggings and panties down in one move, coming face-to-face with your prickly oozing pussy. He can't restrain himself much longer, spinning you around he pushes you down into his mattress.
He spreads your ass open with both hands, the chub of your lips open ever so slightly as the slick between them strings together.
"Perfect cunt." That's when you feel the chill of liquid spat right onto your puckered hole, dripping down to your clit. He leans in, tongue catching the tangy mixture of your slick and his saliva, right on your throbbing clit.
You screech into the sheets, so turned on from his actions. As he licks up to dip his tongue into your hole, one hand that's holding you open sneaks up your back, to your neck and yanks your head up.
"Nu-uh, let me hear you, baby girl." He demands as he pauses to throw his shirt off as fast as possible — not wanting to leave your cunt for too long without the warmth of his mouth.
He sloppily makes out with your cunt as it clenches and unclenches under his tongue, his beard prickling at your skin. Like he wants your scent all over him for as long as possible.
"Ohh daddy, more more," you whisper hazily, hand reaching back to grab his head desperate to have him as deep as possible.
Joel stops as he processes your choice of title. "What was that, darlin'?"
You freeze at his serious tone. Just now realizing what you've called the man. "Oh my god, I'm s-" Joel grabs your wrist and pins it against your lower back — thick middle and ring finger hooking into you with no warning. Your wetness aiding in the rapid slide of them.
He spits on your puckered hole again and abandons your wrist to land a harsh smack against your ass.
"Only dirty girls say that word, baby. Are you daddy's dirty girl?" He edges you on as he spanks you again on the opposite side. Hard. Unsparing. A side of Joel you've never seen. And oh, does it make you feel that coil tightening within you.
"Mmmm yes yes 'm your dirty girl, daddy!" You groan loudly, eyes swelling with fresh tears. But not tears of pain from earlier, pleasure.
Joel's fingers fuck into you harder, thumb now rubbing at your clit as he leans forward to prod his tongue at your asshole. "Cum for me, my nasty sweet girl. Drench my face. Let me taste you even more." He halts his fingers knuckle deep, hooked inside your cunt as he presses into that spot on repeat. Like he's stroking it out of you.
That's all it takes for you to silently scream as you squirt all over his lower beard covered face and your thick inner thighs, that nearly squish his head from how hard you're coming. Joel just keeps himself situated, never letting up. Allowing you to completely let go and rut back into him, telling him you need more.
"Thaaat's it, my good fuckin' girl.” He praises as he kisses your cunt and ass, he leans over your face capturing your lips in a kiss so messy and depraved. “Open that mouth.” Spitting roughly onto your tongue with a groan as you taste your sweetness that he knows he will forever be addicted to. No chance of recovery.
He ruts his thick bulge into your ass as you whine needly.
"Really want you to fuck my face, now." You beg, hand reaching down to grope him through his loose pjs.
"Mmmmm," he murmurs as his hips keep rutting into you. "Tonight is about you, baby. M' gonna stuff your tight cunt so fuckin' deep you'll feel it in your throat, don't worry." And with that promise, he releases himself, throbbing cock slapping against his lower tummy. You flip onto your back just to see it and your eyes widen at the sight before you.
You always knew it was huge just from perception, but god. It's thicker than your wrist, and looks like it would prod into your cervix. Painful even. Joel senses the worry on your face as he pushes your legs back against your chest. Admiring the way your stomach folds into itself, soft roll after roll. And the thickness of your inner thighs lays heavy. He just wants to get down and feast on you again but he might die if he doesn't feel you wrapped around him.
"You're in charge here, sweetheart. Understood?" He explains as he rubs his fat cock head up and down your swollen slit — notching on your opening with every downward stroke.
You nod slowly, peeking down at the monster between your legs once more. He squeezes your ankle, subtly reminding you to vocalize.
"Yes daddy, I understand."
"Good." And with that, he pushes into your fluttering hole. Your eyes roll back immediately, head thumping onto the soft duvet. He pushes in deeper, barely halfway in and he sees your feet and eyes scrunch a bit. It almost feels like he could rip you apart. Maybe it's because you haven't been fucked in a hot minute — or maybe it's just that Joel is so fucking hung. More than any guy you've slept with.
“Deep breath for me, sweetheart.” He soothes you, as soon as he sees your chest fall — he slams the rest of the way in. Hips flush with the back of your thighs. Cock fully sheathed in your warm soaked cunt. Heavy brimming balls pressed against your little puckered hole. “You feel so damn good. Dripping for me.” Joel’s eyes close at the feeling of you hugging him so tight. He suddenly forgets the feeling of any other woman he’s pleased. Utterly devoted to you from here on out.
When he pulls out all the way to his fat tip — it notches on your opening. Like he has to put in that extra effort to fully remove himself from you. But he doesn’t, and starts fucking into you fully. Never half way, never pulling completely out.. but always making sure he reaches the end of you.
“Da- daddy oh, harder please.” You plead, squeezing his forearm at the overwhelming feel of him nudging your cervix with every thrust.
That confirmation of pleasure is all Joel needs to push your legs back even more — ankles by your head — and began a brutal relentless pace. Grabbing a fistful of your jiggling tit and messy hair, he pulls your head up so you can watch how he ruins you for anyone else.
“Ya see that, see how swollen your gettin’ already?” Joel questions as he holds your head perfectly to observe the slight lifted pudge on your tummy. Paired with the way his coarse hair rubs against your swelled clit — it’s a drool worthy sight.
“Cus’ your so big, Joel.” You sigh, eyes fluttering from the primal force he’s using on your body.
A smug grin flicks across his face at the view. Mind consumed by the most perfect woman. Eyebrows turning inward, the little lines between them deepening as you try to comprehend all the emotions in this moment. Removing his hand from your head, he finds your clit and swipes it upward. Over and over. Leaning down, he sucks as much of your breast into his mouth as humanely possible. Tongue flicking the pebbled area, coercing your orgasm from you. “Cum with me, baby.” His muffled command shoots straight to your filled core.
As he feels you spasm around his thickness, he stills balls deep. “There it is, baby…” Spilling his cum inside your warmth. Plugging you, keeping you full of him. Joel relaxes his body against yours, finding your mouth to kiss you gently. Sweaty foreheads against one another. Joel goes to push off of you, his comforting body heat about to be ripped away.
"No! Wanna feel you longer, please."
Your protest makes Joel's heart surge. "Of course, sweet girl." Wrapping his large arms around you, he flips you both so that your soft plush body lays above him. The new angle makes his spent cock nudge a bit deeper, you both moan at the faint squelch of his cum overflowing your cunt. "You're so perfect," he mutters.
Smiling into his full chest, you leave a swift kiss. "So are you. Thank you for this. For.. everything."
Joel's hands finds your back as he begins gentle strokes onto your supple skin, his head resting atop your own. "Thank you, darlin'. I want you to understand something, you might just be the finest thing that ever happened to Sarah and I. Y'know, she didn't really want to see her mom. Never had the best relationship with her. She just wanted to spend the remainder of the summer havin' ya over everyday to swim and all. That girl admires you more than anyone."
Eyes foggy, you shift to gaze up at him. "And what does her father think?"
Joel pauses briefly, rich brown orbs beaming into yours. "Think she's damn right. She didn't want me to tell you this, but she left so I could have some alone time with you — take ya out. Scolded me sayin' by the time she's back, we better be together." He laughs at the thought, you join him. Picturing that 4'9 ball of fire lecturing her father on the rules of dating.
"So, you're asking me out Miller?" You question with a heavy hopeful heart.
"Should've done it forever ago, darlin'." He confesses, placing a delicate kiss on your temple.
And with that, you place your head back onto the warm chest of the man you've craved your entire life. Realizing, ever since that day where he first greeted you with that sultry gentleman voice — you were never truly alone.
thank you truly for reading! let me know your thoughts below or in asks!! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3
#hotdilfsummerchallenge#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller au#joel miller fluff#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal characters smut#joel smut#pedro pascal#joel miller fic#joel miller x you#joel miller imagine#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#joel miller x plus size reader#plus size reader#plus size smut
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Part 2 🖤I made the demon king a black man. I don’t see many Yandere POC OCs 🖤
Yandere Head Canons:
Defying Destiny
Yandere Demon King x Isekai Saintess Reader x Yandere Hero (mentioned)
TW: imprisonment, kidnapping, stalking, uncomfortable themes, sexual themes, Somniaphilia, Dacryphilia, etc.
Part 1
You woke up wrapped in the silk sheets of snow unfamiliar bed. Your eyes wild and your heart raced in your chest like a startled animal. Where were you and where was Reinhardt?! Why were there candles everywhere in this dark bedroom? Was Reinhardt planning to… oh god you were terrified.
You felt a sob rack through you when reality set in. Had Reinhardt stolen you away to live out some sort of sick fantasy instead of going through with his quest to slay the demon king? No… Reinhardt wouldn’t bring you to such a luxurious home. But who on earth brought you here?
“I see you’re awake, my delicate flower.” Your head snapped to the doorway to see the silhouette of a large man. You felt your blood run cold and a shiver run down your spine by his presence. That raspy baritone voice belonged to a stranger.
You flinched when the man suddenly slapped his clawed hands on the end of the king sized bed. Your eyes met gold for the first time and you seeped your heart stopped in your chest from pure terror. There was no mistaking who your captor was… he was the demon king.
“What’s the matter, saintess?” He chuckled as he reached a taloned finger out to hook around a strand of your hair. “Cat got your tongue?”
You felt tears stream down your cheeks when he flashed his long fangs at you. He was bewitchingly beautiful with his burnt umber skin and golden eyes. There was no doubt he was a demon and that fact terrified you. What did he want from you? Was he… was he going to kill you?
The demon king sighed at your shivering form before he moved himself to sit beside you. His hand moved to hold yours. “It’s alright, darling. I’m not going to hurt you.”
You sniffled when he began to wipe away your tears. “W… what?”
“I’d never hurt my saintess.” The demon king gave you a toothy smile. “My beautiful, merciful saintess… my salvation.”
You gasped when he brought your right hand up to his lips to press a tender kiss to the back of it. “It’s so wonderful to finally have you here with me… you’ll be safe here.”
“I’m just a bit confused about all of this…” You felt so small under his intense gaze, like he was about to pounce on you at any second. “Who are you and why have you taken me?”
The demon lord chuckled as he rose up from the bed to stand at his full, intimidating height. His curved black horns nearly added another foot to his height which made he give you a smirk. “Why I am the Demon King but you can call me Amon.”
The demon king- no, Amon, bowed his head to you. “And I took you to save you.”
You were surprised to see a tray of freshly made food in front of you when Amon snapped his fingers. Your stomach growled at the delicious sight, but you were hesitant to accept… Amon quickly caught onto your hesitance and took a bite of the food for you. “Don’t worry, it’s real and completely edible. Only the best for my saintess.”
You shyly took a bite and smiled at the taste. It was lovely…
Amon smiled warmly at you, his golden eyes studied your satisfied smile in pure joy. He was so happy to please you!
Amon ran his talons through his long black hair with a smile. “I’ll take care of you from now on. You’re safe here.”
As the weeks melted into months, Amon kept his word. None of his demon nor monster henchmen were mean towards you, unlike the hero’s party. Sure Amon was never far from you, but his company was much preferred over Reinhardt’s. Amon would bring you meals and made sure you had fresh clothes. He pampered you like a beloved pet.
Though it was never officially stated, you were Amon’s lover. And thus, you treated as such by his subjects. They’d wait for you on hand and foot. You received various expensive clothing and jewelry, they were eager to make you smile. It was such a stark contrast compared to your treatment prior…
You often gazed out your window at the volcanic city below. It was fascinating just how different monsters and demons lived from humans… so why did the humans want to destroy them so much?
You jumped when Amon entered the room to wrap his muscular arms around your waist, his nose pressed onto your shoulder. A few of his box braids tickled your skin. “I missed you so much… I just wish the humans would leave us alone. I grow tired of the hero and his party. They’re so much weaker without your barriers and healing. To think they never treated you well. What a bunch of losers.”
You turned to gaze at Amon in interest. “What is it that they’re after? Why do the humans hate your people so much?”
Amon gave you the softest of smiles, a bit of his fangs peaked out from under his lip. “Our magic stones. Monsters and demons produce enough magic stones to fuel humanity for eons… they’re worth a lot of money to humans.”
Amon pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, his gold eyes stared expectantly up at you. “You’re the only human to ever question their greed and motives. You don’t wish to be bound to a destiny thrust upon you by the world.”
Amon bent down on one knee and pressed his lips over your palms and fingers. “Join me. Together we can defy our destiny. You don’t have to be a Saintess forced to marry the hero and I won’t have to be a page in the history books.”
You felt a blush on your cheeks when he tilted his handsome face at you. “Let’s watch the world burn together.”
And now you had a choice to make. To fulfill the destiny predetermined for you or to defy your destiny.
#female reader#yandere fic#yandere imagine#yandere scenarios#yandere x you#Yandere hero#yandere demon#yandere demon x reader#yandere oc#yandere original character#original work#yandere obsession#yandere insert#yandere horror#yandere monster x reader#monster yandere#yandere monster#yandere male#yandere headcanons#yandere imagines
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smutty patrick +art +reader request!!!! ->
smut where both patrick &y/n r dominant and are constantly competing against eachother with who makes art cum faster/moan louder LOL☺️☺️☺️ patrick is like a rougher dom and reader is softer and she keeps praising art while patrick IS SUCH A MEANIEEEEE but he also loves art too obv(and reader). UGH i love them
HEHEHEHE <3
Rating: E (18+)
Warnings: SMUT!! Threesome ft. Dom!Patrick, Soft!Dom Reader, Sub!Art, handjob, blowjob, ruined orgasm
A/N: god tier request, truly. something possessed me when I wrote this
Art Donaldson had never looked prettier than he did in that moment. The thin sheen of sweat that made his skin glisten, the pretty flush that burned pink down to his chest.
His back was pressed to your chest, your arms wrapped around him soothingly. It was the perfect angle to watch all the ways Patrick was torturing your sweet boy.
His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath— each exhale shuddery and rough. You pet his hair, brushing soft curls out of his eyes.
“How are you, baby?” You asked softly, teasingly. “Is Patrick being too mean?”
He shook his head, the muscles of his abdomen flexing as Patrick’s hand moved faster and faster. A strangled moan slipped past his lips, eyes squeezing shut as Patrick brought him closer and closer to the edge.
“I’m just doing what he asked,” Patrick said with a grin. The sounds of his hand was slick as it moved up and down on the blond’s cock.. “He wanted me to touch him, and I’m touching him.”
You pressed a soothing kiss to his jaw and grinned down at Patrick. The brunet was a co-conspirator in the agonizing, delicious torture you put Art’s poor body through. You were just nicer about it.
“Close,” Art whimpered, his lips spit slick and bitten pink. “I— fuck— I’m close”
Patrick smirked like the cat who got the cream, but you just ran a soothing hand over the plane of his chest, teasing his nipples, making him whine pitifully.
“Yeah, baby? You’re close, huh?” Your teeth tugged slightly at his earlobe and he moaned, loud and pretty. “Be polite and ask Patrick if you can cum.”
Patrick’s hand didn’t let up— slick and relentless. He raised an eyebrow expectantly and Art nearly sobbed.
“Please—“ was all Art could manage.
“Please, what, Donaldson? You’re a big boy, you know how to ask the right way.”
He groaned, shifting so he could squirm away from Patrick’s relentless touch. It was futile, though. Art was strong, but with your legs pinning his thighs and Patrick’s hand slung across the blond’s torso, all he could do was take it.
“Lemme cum— please let me cum,” he was practically begging, eyes shining with crocodile tears. It was so fucking cute. You wished your camera was nearby so you could’ve snapped a picture of how desperate he’d gotten.
Patrick met your gaze and smiled, like he’d just gotten the best fucking idea in the world. “Okay, baby,” he said in an unusually gentle voice. “You can cum.”
You could feel Art’s heart hammering against your palm, the surprise evident in his eyes.
“Hurry before Pat changes his mind, yeah?” You cooed in his ear. He nodded, face scrunched slightly as Patrick brought him closer and closer to finishing.
And god, Art could get loud. He had his tells here, just like in tennis. As soon as he went silent, you knew he was right on the precipice, ready to tumble over.
The second Art’s orgasm hit, Patrick moved his hand off of him completely. It was different than it usually was— Art was always messy. He’d shoot ropes of thick cum up to his chest, or his face if he was particularly backed up.
But then, he just whimpered pathetically as cum oozed out of his tip, leaving a puddle at the base of his cock. And— holy fuck— he stayed hard.
Art practically sobbed, his head lolling back against your shoulder. Tears of frustration welled in his pretty blue eyes. “What the fuck, Patrick?” He groaned pathetically.
“What the fuck did you do?” You asked with wide eyes.
Patrick sat back and shrugged, wearing a shit-eating grin. “I saw someone do it in a porn. He got to cum, he just didn’t get the good part.”
“Switch spots,” you said quickly. Patrick let you settle between Art’s thighs, eye level with his aching cock. It was red at the tip, aching for a real release.
When you wrapped a hand around him, he whimpered and squirmed in an attempt to escape the stimulation.
“You good, baby?” You asked, pressing your lips to his thigh.
Before Art could respond, Patrick sighed. “Stop babying him— he’s fine.”
You met Art’s gaze, and he gave a tiny nod. His chest was heaving as he drew breath after shaky breath.
The mess of cum surrounding his base made each slick pass of your hand sound pornographic. Almost as debauched as the whimpers and moans that were escaping Art’s lips.
“Mmm… fuck, fuck— ah!” Like a goddamn pornstar.
“Shhh… let me clean up the mess Patrick made, yeah?”
You pressed a soft kiss to his tip, and his thighs twitched with the need to buck into the warmth of your lips. Your mouth trailed down, peppering the hard length of him with wet, slow kisses. You could taste his release, salty on your tongue.
“Jesus, baby— please—“ Art, desperate and wanting, was your favorite thing in the world. Besides maybe Patrick, desperate and wanting in a completely opposite way.
“Quit whining, Art, or she’s gonna stop.” Patrick murmured in the blond’s ear. You could already see a collection of red spots on Art’s throat that would turn into bruises.
You definitely weren’t going to stop. You loved every single depraved noise you could wring out of him. You took mercy on him, easing his sensitive cock into the wet warmth of your mouth.
You’re too soft on him. He likes when you make him work for it. You could hear Patrick’s complaints already.
It didn’t matter. You liked taking care of your boy.
He pulsed against your tongue as you took him deeper, his thighs tensing where your hands rested against him. He bucked slightly, brushing the back of your throat. When you gagged around him, he made the same whimpery noise that he made on the tennis courts.
“Tell her thank you,” Patrick said in Art’s ear.
You moaned softly around Art’s length as you felt Patrick’s fingers grip onto your hair, guiding your mouth up and down, faster and faster.
“Art, I’ll make her stop. Say thank you.” Patrick’s voice was firm, no trace of any sympathy. The same way he’d bark corrections that Art needed to make when they practiced together.
“Thank you,“ Art gasped out, like it took all the effort in the world. Patrick used his free hand to rake his nails over Art’s abs, and the blond cried out and bucked into your throat. “Fuck—“
You knew he was close to finishing— still so pent up from the orgasm that Patrick had ruined for him. So sensitive that it wouldn’t take much more effort to have him spilling onto your tongue.
You pulled off slowly, jerking him off with slow, firm strokes. “You wanna cum, baby?” You asked, lips just brushing the sensitive head of his cock.
“Yes! God, need t’ cum so bad,” he cried, desperate and aching for release.
“Jesus, you’re fuckin’ greedy, Art,” Patrick goaded. The hand that was in your hair had moved to your cheek, where he stroked along your skin sweetly. “You think you deserve it?”
“Yes, you asshole,” Art groaned. Patrick laughed, a smile spreading across his lips. You raised a brow, looking at the brunet expectantly for permission. He nodded and you smiled.
“Go on, baby, I’ve got you,” you said, hand moving faster. “I won’t be mean, I’ll let you get what you need.”
He cried out as he finished, painting your tongue with thick spurts of cum. You worked him through it, taking every drop he could offer you, until the feeling of your touch became too much.
“Don’t swallow, c’mere,” Patrick said. You joined him at the top of the bed, kissing him deeply, passing Art’s cum between your mouths with slow laves of your tongues against each other.
Art whined, reaching for your faces, wanting you to include him. Patrick leaned down, kissing him deeply, so he could taste the efforts of both of your attentions. You leaned in, tongue brushing Patrick’s, and Art’s, and you felt warmth flutter in your chest.
“You’re too nice to him,” Patrick said after he pulled away. “I would’ve made him beg for it.”
thank you for readinggggg <3 this was so fun to write 😁🩵
#art donaldson x reader#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig x art donaldson#patrick zweig#art donaldson#challengers 2024#challengers fanfic#challengers x reader#my writing
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MC's magic going wrong 😱😰
or right depending on ur outlook on life ig
warnings: swearing, mentions of death (extremely brief and only notioned towards), physical affection
You hadn´t thought much of it at first when you got back to the human realm. Everything went back to normal. Or as normal as it could be.
Your mother and father sobbed when they saw you, stating how they though´t you were lying in a ditch somewhere in the stretching countryside. You´d lied, told them you were away on a residency based apprenticeship, that you were sorry for worrying them. Your siblings showed signs of worry you never thought they were able to feel for you. Thus you were being babied for a month or so.
That´s when it started.
At first, it was more corvids at the bird feeder in your garden than usual. Then it was stray cats. Then inexplicable black and white feathers dusting your clothing and hair.
Your mother smiled picking out the ivory feather from the confines of your unbrushed hair, "Oh! Your guardian angel´s been watching over you!" she says playfully, an old wives´ tale, nothing too serious.
You tense for a moment, before laughing with her. "Well I´ll take it as a good sign." Stupid old wives being the smartest people.
At first it was easy to brush off.
Then your father started getting lucky, he hadn't been one to gamble persay, putting a few coins in on a bet for the horse racing or the football was a regular occurrence, sometimes he won,sometimes he didn't. The difference of a few silvers, a share bag of sweets basically, made no real strain on your belts. But now, he was winning left right and center. Winning amounts that shouldnt be possible based on the amount he input.
Though, after you woke up to cats and corvids staring at you unblinkingly, in your room, with a few flies and insects on the walls, and your bedsheets covered in feathers and scales of all colours and sizes, enough was enough.
You were going to give those nerds a piece of your mind.
After shooing the animals out, (making sure to pet the cats), you picked up a lipstick, and channeled your pact magic before drawing a circle with various symbols on the floor,
You stilled, "Ah, shit. I dunno how to do this, i mean half of those symbols are angry faces and squiggles...." but ever the theatre nerd, you improved.
"I, MC, call upon the power of my pacts with the Avatars of Hell! and, using their power; a portal to the Devildom shall open for me!"
And a portal did open for you. Unfortunately, not to the best place. As you travelled through the time pocket you ended up stumbling once you made it to the other side, the stumble turnt into a tumble turnt into a fall. Unluckily for you, the thing you fell on was toned flesh and chuckling heartily, you were in Diavolo's lap.
"It's great of you to drop by MC!" He says, his massive hands pulling you further into his frame.
You cover your face with your hands, now noticing the various other nobles in the council room who are staring at their Prince, attempting to mask the fact their jaws are going to hit the floor.
Atleast the Brothers weren't there, but Barbatos' half polite smile half smirk and Diavolo whispering various playful musings of, "Did you miss me that much little human, we missed you too.", and "Summoning a portal illegally into the Demon Lord's castle and onto the Demon Princes lap...tututut." almost made the brothers seem like a mercy....
...almost.
You couldn't tell if this was a win or a lose.
#obey me x reader#obey me shall we date#obey me imagines#obey me mc#obey me diavolo#obey me brothers#obey me#diavolo x reader#obey me crack#obey me fluff
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Hooked -> k. choso
nsfw drabble
cws; no plot, inexperienced!choso, dom!reader, implied fem!reader, reader has vamp teeth, biting, blood, unprotected sex, breeding(oops), overstimulation, multiple rounds, yeehaw!(cowgirl), slight teasing, praising, light aftercare, use of pet names(; baby, sweetheart, pretty, good boy, etc), very cute and sweet ! undercase as needed (sometimes its just ugly ok,)
1.6k; unedited
Freak ‘by Doja Cat
“Just— just go slow ok?”
God. You still don’t know how you did it. How you got your—insanely hot—neighbor withering underneath you.
His body spread across the expanse of your queen-size bed. Head thrown back as he lets out whines while you litter his body in featherlight kisses. Choso’s body jolts as you place your glossy lips on his thigh, a sticky pink stain smeared on his pale porcelain skin.
He twitches.
“are you excited, pretty?” He tilts his head up at the sound of your voice. You glance up at him, staring directly into his rich aubergine colored eyes. His glossed over eyes and pinched brows made you smile.
He’s so cute when he’s needy.
“p-please, I—” he cuts himself off with a gasp as you give a tentative lick to his tip, lips curving up into a smile as you feel him tense beneath you. With a light blow, you move back, your hand taking its place to slowly stroke the length of his shaft as you shift to hover directly above him.
“please what hmm..?” you lean down to press a kiss against his eye, then nose, then cheek, all the way down from his jaw to attacking his collarbone. Flourishing his pale skin in bruises of reds and blues.
He was such a gorgeous canvas.
“I— fuck!” A string of whines leave his lips as your teeth sink into his flesh, his hand flying to his mouth at the sound. you pull back, gaze focused on the bite mark you left. You watched as small drops of blood started to leak. Your tongue carefully glazes across the expanse of his shoulder. His cock twitches in your grasp, beads of pre-cum drip down to sparingly cover your lithe fingers.
Tears welled in the corners of his tightly shut eyes, the salty liquid streamed down his cheeks. You can still hear the sounds of his pathetic whimpering. “Aww… I’m just teasin’ cho,” you coo at him, using your free hand to pull down his hand from covering his pretty moans.
You lean forward to kiss him again—much harder than before. Desperation makes kissing feel so pleasurable, so good. You feel so damn good. His mind is a blank slate, your tongue dissolving his brain to mush. Rebuilding and rewiring his consciousness to crave you and your affection until the end of time.
You pump him twice as you sit up completely to get better access. The absence of your body makes him needy again, his hands reaching out to find purchase in some part of your body. Pre-cum dribbles pathetically from the tip as you guide his cock to your pussy, you lean back and slam your weight down onto him with full force. He slides with little resistance. His hands grip harshly on your hips as he bottoms out. A high-pitched mewl escaping him as he cums at the impact, your walls sucking him in with a vice-like grip as he shoots a load into you. His cock still hard as he fills you
“ah!—m’sorry… sorry, did-didn’t mean to…” Choso babbles. He’s sobbing at the pleasure, fat tears rolling down the sides of his face and leaving a damp spot on your satin covered pillows.
“s’ok baby, you’re doing so good for me”, your smile is hypnotizing as he locks his eyes with you. Your eyes glossed over in a lust filled haze, thumb stroking his cheek to collect the stray tears.
After a few minutes you give a slight roll of your hips to ease him in more. Feeling him twitch so deeply in you causes a moan to be ripped from your throat. You start your pace off slow and rhythmic. barely easing off of him before thrusting your hips back down. It’s leisurely, calm and steady. An appetizer compared to what’s to come.
The pace picks up, erratic bounces with the focus nothing more than to make you both feel good. "fuck, p-please, not too fast- i can't! ngh-” Choso whimpers breathlessly, going dumb from how good you're making him feel. He looks up at you through hooded eyes, head spinning. He mumbles incoherently, begging for you to stop, telling you that he's too tired and that he can't take it anymore even though his cock is still hard and leaking, flooding your insides with his cum almost continuously.
you don't listen to him. instead you ride him faster, rising up until his aching tip is the only thing inside you then slamming your hips back down to fuck yourself on his cock. he lets out a choked sob, keeling forward with every bounce.
"please, please, please—”he doesn't know what he's begging for.
he stretches you out so good. his cock heavy and pulsing inside you, ready to fill you up again despite choso's claims that he can't anymore.
"baby, please i- ah! you're ridin' me too good, m'gonna...gonna cum again.” he whines deliriously, feeling as if he'll pass out at any moment
He’s practically sobbing into your neck, tears streaming over the purple marks he left on your collar bones as he cums deep inside of you.
Your pace doesn’t let up. His back arched into you. Instinctually thrusting up into you, as his eyes roll to the back of his head.
Your hands snake their way back to his face, giving a small squeeze to his cheeks before patting on them. A silent plea for him to open his mouth. As soon as he does, you shove two fingers into the back of his throat, pressing down on his tongue, grazing against the lower teeth, and remaining still there, causing saliva to accumulate in the cavity and a small dribble down the corner of his chin. Effectively choking him.
“You’re making such a mess, cho~” you tease unabashedly, like it was nothing but his fault. Choso focuses his eyes back on you. The cat-like smirk on your face at seeing him turn into a mess at the palm of your hand. It’s maddening.
“feelin’ so good that you’re drooling huh?” You know he’s too fucked up to respond, the constant stream of tears and the soft sounds of his light choking enough of a sign. But it’s so fun to toy with him.
"Hummmm, fuck!" Choso murmurs tearfully, calling your name afterward. His voice sounds so low, so choked up that you need to lean in even closer.
———
He's lost count of how many times you’ve made him cum. he’s overwhelmed, sensitive like you wouldn’t believe. He can barely think, his cock throbs and aches as you ride him relentlessly.
He was a complete and utter mess, his hair matted. His face covered in a mixture of sweat and tears, his cheeks permanently stained pink. His mind is filled with nothing more than your name and how good you’re making him feel. It’s addictive.
His thighs were shaking, legs weak as he gasped. His breath was ragged and labored, lungs burning— throat raw from the constant screaming and crying. He was barely able to string together a coherent thought, his words reduced to incoherent whines and moans, his words were slurred and sluggish, tongue heavy in his mouth. "M-mm..mm-more, plea-please, please, pleaseplease.." he managed to choke out, his body convulsing as his balls constricted, he was so close. "need—need to,ahh!—cum, p-please, pleasepleaseplease—“ he begs.
“Such a good boy… you gon’ cum, pretty?” There’s a sadistic lilt in your voice. Choso knows you’re only asking him questions he can’t properly answer.
“Mhm—!”
But he gives in anyway.
“That’s it— gonna fill me up hmm? Go’head pretty, you can do it.” You slam your hips down, taking him all the way down to the base with complete ease. Your body collapses into a shiver. You both cum at exactly the same time, moans and whines resonated the room as you slow down your pace to a complete stop.
You both rest there. Shaking and panting as you try to collect what little you both have left of yourselves.
You pull off of him, his fat tip still leaking. His body shudders at the cold air, already missing the warm feeling of your wet wall surrounding him. Small drops of cum drop out of you.
“You ok baby?” you ask in a soft voice. His eyes are closed but you see him nod his head. His voice was too hoarse to speak. “Ima’ get up and clean you up ok? I’ll be right back sweetheart,”
Choso feels the weight of the bed shift as you get up and walk to your bathroom. He hears the sink run for a while before it shuts off, listening for your footsteps to walk back towards him. “hey cho, I just have a warm cloth, jus’ gonna wipe you off ok?” He mumbles out a small ok before you begin to carefully wipe around his thighs, taking extra care to lightly massage them as you work your way up to his abs.
It’s a soft and intimate moment, no words being shared yet you still felt connected in a way no words could describe. Once you were down wiping him down you got up once again to place the washcloth and bowl of(now cold) water into their respective places. You barely get your legs off the side of the bed before Choso is grabbing at your wrists. A dark look in his eye that makes even you nervous. There’s a pregnant pause before he speaks up:
“can we go again..?”
He had finally gotten a taste of you.
And boy, was he hooked.
#x reader#choso smut#choso x reader#sub choso#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk choso#jjk choso x reader#jjk choso smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#smut#gojo x reader
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when i was around 9 my family cat died and i was understandably upset about it. so a few days later in my elementary catholic class (italian thing. ask mussolini about it and then hang him again) i drew a picture of "what i thought heaven looked like". and what heaven looked like to me was god standing around with an arm around jesus' shoulders being like "and THEN my wonderful son did this..." with jesus looking visibly embarrassed, because that's how a good dad is supposed to act, while all the angels and souls of the departed sat at their feet looking impressed in their wings and haloes. various pets being among them, such as my cat, my grandpa's old dog etc, also behaloed and winged. except when i went to show my drawing to the teacher explaining my artistic thought process, she looked at it and went "nice. but animals don't go to heaven because they don't have souls like us."
i wish. oh how i wish every day of my life that i'd been the hypersensitive, quick-to-tears kid that would've undoubtedly triggered a whole class religious schism when my classmates found out why i was screaming and sobbing my eyes out. but alas, i just discarded her theological theory altogether. what a silly woman she was. she must've never had pets, otherwise she'd clearly know they DO have a soul. boy, was she gonna get a surprise when she got to heaven.
now that i think back on it, you have to laugh at the heartless, eye-opening cruelty of looking a grieving child in the eye and saying "sorry kid, little mina's not getting into heaven." what a succinct summary of catholicism. anyway, I'm not christian anymore.
#giving the church its due. my stance on animal souls was rather nonlinear#for example: cats/dogs had souls but cows didn't. that is because i never saw the body of my dead cats until i had to put one down at age 1#(17 being my age. the cat was probably in her 20s)#while i used to sneak out to watch the vet autopsy the stillbirth calves at my grandpa's neighbors' farm#there was no soul in there. i specifically looked out for it#anyway. that's the biscia tmi of the day
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JUST LOVE
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader
Summary: You've had a stressful day at work and can't wait for Eddie to help you forget it all
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: SMUT (18+), oral (m receving), excessive use of nicknames, use of the word slut once, not proofread.
A/N: It's been a hot minute since I last wrote smut so uh, I hope it's decent and yeah.
═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══
When you waltz into the trailer on a rainy evening, you expect Eddie to be in his room, maybe practicing a new song or writing up some lyrics for the next show at the Hideout. However, your boyfriend is nowhere in sight. Part of you is relieved that he’s not around, but the other feels your heart plummet to your stomach in his absence. While you wish for nothing more than to fall into the comfort of his embrace, you don’t want him to worry upon seeing the tears that are falling down your cheeks.
As much as you have been trying to ignore it, all the frustration that has been building up in your chest has reached a point where you feel like it’s too much for you to take. Almost like a suffocating weight placed on top of you that won’t let you move anymore. You are worried about so much, and with an important job interview getting closer and closer, things don’t seem to be getting much easier.
You sigh and reach up to unzip your raincoat as you try to calmly breathe in and out to keep your tears in. You hang the coat on the rack that’s placed by the door and make your way into the cramped trailer bathroom, craving nothing more than a nice hot shower to ease the tension in your muscles.
Before you can get too far, you feel something brush up against your leg. You look down and your frown is quickly turned into a soft smile at the sight of your cat, Ziggy, lazily rubbing up against you in search of cuddles and attention. His soft purrs make you give in and scratch his head gently until he seems satisfied enough and runs back to the tiny pet bed placed by a plant, where he spends most of the day sprawled on his back.
Ziggy used to hang out by the trailer often, something you only took notice of after a few weeks of living with Eddie. You adopted him officially not long after—without having to try and convince Eddie because, let’s be honest, he wanted the cat just as much as you did… maybe more, though he’d never admit it—and he’s been yours ever since.
You resume your journey to the bathroom and start to take your clothes off once you get water running. It thankfully doesn’t take much to heat up and, before you know it, you’re enjoying the warm stream of water that’s running down your back.
You let every little piece of built up frustration out with sobs that have your whole body shaking. You sure feel ridiculous for crying over things that would seem so minuscule to anyone else, but you do it anyway because you’re hoping it’ll make you feel better about everything, it’s better than keeping it all in at least.
You spend longer than you should standing over the hot stream of water and no part of you wants to get out. Then you think of both Eddie and Wayne, and reluctantly get out of the shower because you don’t want them to have to shower with cold water—especially when you know just how much Eddie enjoys hot showers after a long day at work. You dress up in one of Eddie’s shirts and a pair of boxers. You certainly feel far better than when you’d walked in, but you know being wrapped up in Eddie’s arms will make you forget everything, at least for a little bit.
When you walk into your shared room, you’re surprised to see Eddie already in bed, his frame covered by the sheets as he reads a book. His hair is messily gathered at the nape of his neck in the shape of a messy bun, with only his fringe and a few stray pieces of hair freely falling on his face. Both his shirt and jeans have been discarded and are now lying down on the floor. You almost roll your eyes at the sight, only that morning Wayne had scolded Eddie for leaving clothes on the couch, but it doesn’t seem like it had much of an effect on your sweet boyfriend.
You stand against the doorframe, a smile painting itself on your face at the sight of him, nose buried inside his book. You’ve been dating for years, but that warm feeling in your stomach never seems to disappear despite seeing him everyday. You suspect he’ll make you swoon until the day you die, forever enamored by the nerdy rockstar that always treats you ever-so-gently.
Eddie must feel your eyes on him because it isn’t long before he looks up and smiles. He leaves his book on the nightstand and reaches to push back the covers for you to slide into bed, which you gleefully do.
He shifts around a little to press a kiss to your lips, “Hey sweetheart. ‘M sorry for being late. I forgot I had to drop Henderson off.”
You only hum and let your head rest on the crook of his neck, eager to have him close and be comforted by his warm embrace. Eddie chuckles but doesn’t complain as he wraps his arm tighter around you. He slips his warm calloused hand under your shirt and starts to mindlessly draw shapes on your lower back. You trace the lines of the tattoo on his chest and let any other thought vanish until only a feeling of utter peace remains.You can feel the bump of the scars that litter his chest from that time you almost lost him to demonic bats. They’re covered by ink now, fully healed, but you still feel yourself get the slightest bit emotional at the memory of what happened that night.
Eddie notices the way your body tenses up all of a sudden, he gently cups your cheek with his unoccupied hand and tilts your head so you’re looking up at him. Your eyes focus on his face and you stare at him curiously, noticing his slight shift in attitude. His head is slightly tilted to the side and there’s a serious expression on his face that wasn’t there before. He wants to say something, but you can tell he’s hesitating. You encourage him with a nod.
“Is everything alright? I could hear you crying in there.” You smile softly at the sweetness of his tone and move so you’re sat on his lap, driven by a desire to be even closer to him than you were before. One of your hands immediately goes to cup his face while the other remains on his chest. Eddie turns his head enough to kiss the palm of your hand and offers you a worried frown.
You jokingly pull the corner of his mouth up to try and make the pout on his lips go away, which you succeed in doing because a smile appears on his face as he swats your hand away.
“Stop distracting me,” He laughs.
“I’m not trying to, Eds,” You say at the same time as you poke him on the ribs, which makes him jump a little. Eddie laughs a little more, which makes you giggle in return.
“I just… you know I worry about everything and my brain’s always going on and on about all the shit that can go wrong. With all of my work stuff and the job interview and everything there is to worry about, I’m going a bit crazy.”
You see the way his face falls again as he hears you talk, knowing there isn’t much he can do to relieve you of all the stress that has you crumbling, “I’d prefer not to talk much about it though, not right now anyway.”
“We can talk about whatever you want sweetheart,” He reassures and smiles teasingly at you as he grabs the hem of your shirt, his shirt, actually, “Like about how you’ve stolen my shirt. I asked if you’d seen it just this morning!”
You laugh sheepishly at the accusation. It isn’t the first time, nor will it be the last, that you steal one of his shirts,“Did not!”
Eddie tickles your sides and shakes his head, “Did too, you fuckin’ liar.”
He leans in a little bit more, just enough so that your noses are about to touch, “You can keep it though, it looks hot on you.”
“Hmm, good, because it’s my favorite shirt of yours,” You admit, though you know it’s more than obvious with how often it disappears from his drawers.
He rolls his eyes at your words, “Yeah, couldn’t help but notice it.”
You press your forehead against his and close your eyes. Eddie wraps his arms around your waist and you feel him let out a long sigh. It’s more than obvious that you’ve both had a stressful day and being so close together brings an incomparable comfort that allows you to relax despite everything there is to worry about.
It has always been easy with Eddie, to just brush off any trouble. That is how you have both survived the years that have passed since everything with Vecna occurred. Looking back on everything, it almost feels ridiculous how you’re worrying over a job when a few years ago, when you were just eighteen, you were worrying over how your group of friends was going to save the world… and your dying boyfriend. Night and day difference, huh?
You pull away and open your eyes. Your fingers brush over the curls that sit prettily on his forehead, “I’m sorry to say this, but seeing your hair like this makes me wanna do things to you.”
Eddie laughs loudly at your comment and the way you whisper it as if it actually were a secret. He laughs even more at your embarrassed expression, when you’ve said worse things that would put his dirty mouth to shame. You press your forehead against his chest now and join his quiet laughter, “I hope it’s good things.”
“Only the best of things, Eds,” You mumble against his chest as he brushes his fingers through your hair. He watches as your eyes light up when you look at him again and you can’t help but grin at his confused expression.
“I think I know a great way to make me feel better, actually,” You say and curl your finger around a loose strand of hair.
“And what would that be, princess?” He wonders, despite having a slight suspicion of what you’re about to ask.
You toy with the waistband of his boxers and Eddie almost groans in anticipation of what’s to come. It isn’t a secret to either of you that there is nothing you love more in the world than sucking Eddie off after a stressful day at work. He, of course, always encourages you, who is he to complain after all?
Both of your hands now pinch the material. You wait for him to give you the okay before you slide the boxers down his legs and drop them somewhere on the floor, freeing his hardening cock. You slide off the bed and onto your knees beside it while Eddie watches you intently. His doe eyes never leave yours as you beckon for him to sit on the edge of the bed, which he scrambles to do instantly.
You spit on your hand before wrapping it around him and pumping slowly. He sighs at your touch, but it quickly turns into a moan when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and gently suck on it, tasting his salty precum on your tongue. You begin to bob your head up and down his length, while you guide his hands to your hair.
You pull back for a brief second and look up at him through your eyelashes, “Can I please touch myself?”
Eddie nods and before he can say anything, he interrupts himself with a groan of pleasure as your lips wrap around his hard length once again. You let your hand travel past the waistband of your panties and you slowly rub your clit, basking in the pleasure of having your mouth full of him.
“You’re beautiful, sweetheart, so pretty on your knees for me.” Eddie murmurs through parted lips, his delicate words a sharp contrast in comparison to his actions. His grip on a handful of your hair tightens and he pushes your head further down his length, “But, fuck, you look even better with my cock in your mouth.”
You can’t help but moan at his words, which only motivate you into taking him deeper down your throat. Despite how messy the whole thing is, you can tell Eddie is enjoying it as much as you are by the sounds of pleasure he often lets out. You feel tears slide down your cheeks every time his cock touches the back of your throat, but any thought of discomfort is drowned out by the satisfaction that hearing his moans brings you.
“Fucking hell, princess. Who knew my good girl was such a slut? Love having your mouth full, huh?” Eddie wipes the tears off your cheeks as he watches you, kneeling before him, completely at his mercy. The sight of you fucking yourself on your fingers only brings him closer to the edge. He loves to know you enjoy this as much as he does.
You pull off him to catch your breath for a few seconds and he, with his feather-like touch, massages your jaw, knowing perfectly well how sore it can get. But it isn’t long until your mouth is back on him, determined to get him to come.
He does so not long after and you swallow it all, happy you’ve achieved your mission.
“Shit,” Eddie mutters, still breathless, “Feel better now, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, I’d say so.”
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could u do a golden retriever/black cat dynamic with maria or nat, where R is the golden retriever so everyone assumes they’re the bottom, but its actually the complete opposite?
GOLDEN GIRL
PAIRINGS: Maria Hill x reader
WORD COUNT: 859
WARNINGS: smut, car sex, bottom!reader, subspace, Mommy (M), if yall can’t tell i have mommy and daddy issues with the amount of mommy/daddy kinks i write, innocent!R, fingering, pet play, public sex, cunnilingus, making out, dirtbag!Maria, praise kink, degrading kink, kinda dumbficfation, think that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
I COMPLETELY FORGOT TO MAKE IT BOTTOM!MARIA 😭😭 MY NEXT MARIA FIC WILL MAKE UP FOR IT ANON I PROMISE
“Are you sure about this?” You sat on the woman’s lap, nervous glances being sent each way. Her hand came to your cheek, her thumb rubbing small, gentle circles to ease your fear.
“Of course, my love. I promise you, no one’s going to see us.” The car had tinted windows, blocking anyone’s insight but gifting you the ability to see anyone nearby.
“But my parents-“
“They won’t notice you’re gone, okay? We won’t get caught.” You hesitantly agreed, sucking in a breath as you allowed her to guide your hips against her waist. Her jeans teased your covered cunt, the cold, metal button sending shocks through your body and causing you to whimper. Your grip fell upon her shoulders, your panties being pushed to the side by Maria’s wandering fingers.
“Pinky promise?” She linked her pinky with yours, kissing the tip before doing the same to your lips, leaving you with a goofy grin and cheeks bright red.
“Pinky promise.” You trailed your hands down, asking for permission with your eyes before you dipped your hands beneath her shirt, cupping her breasts and choking out a moan as her thumb pressed against your clit. She smirked, leaning forward as she connected her chapped lips with the skin of your neck, creating a suction that left dark markings along the area, and she knew you’d whine and groan about it later on. If your parents saw, they’d kill her. They never liked her in general, many people don’t, but knowing she was having sex with their child and ruining their sweet doves' innocence would only cause harsher amounts of bile in their throats.
“Did that feel good?” She asked when receiving a loud moan, your lips parting as your hips sped up. Her fingers teased your hole, dipping in and out in anticipation that riled you up.
“Mhm!” You bit your tongue to silence the threatening sound, but she wasn’t having it.
“No, baby, I want to hear you.” You threw your head back, but she slowly eased you forward by your chin, and your gaze soon met her hazy one. The windows began to blur along with your mind, and drool trailed on your lip.
“Awh, has my puppy gone dumb already? I thought you were my smart little mutt, I guess I was wrong.” You shook your head quickly. She hissed as you tugged on her nipples accidentally, but you barely even noticed.
“No, I-I’m ‘mart, Mommy.” She hummed, and you could tell she didn’t believe you. You stuffed your head in her neck, sniffing her sweet scent with a smile.
“Mommy’s dumb pup, huh? Is that what you are, sweetheart?” You sniffled and shook your head once again, whimpering as two fingers slowly eased into you. You mumbled out your denial, but she only chuckled your way.
“Shh, just bounce on Mommy’s fingers.” You did as told, whispering incoherent pleas as she added a third finger. She shushed you every time you tried to speak, insisting you weren’t of the intelligence level to form a functional thought.
“M-Mommy- g’nna…cum.” You told her, earning a pout of her lips in response. She pulled on your hair, forming a ponytail as she did so. Allowing your head to loll back as she kissed her way up to your ear, nibbling softly on the skin as she spoke,
“You better not fucking cum. Only I can give you permission, got that?” You nodded slowly, crying out with a pained sob as she forced you to ride her faster. She repeatedly hit your g-spot, and you could’ve screamed from the large amount of pleasure she gifted you.
“You think you can decide that on your own, hm? You think Mommy doesn’t matter anymore?”
“No, Mommy, I- I didn’t me-mean to-“
“You don’t need Mommy’s help anymore, is that it? Are you suddenly a big girl, you can think on your own?” You fought the coil building in your stomach with hopes of her approval.
“I-I need you, I do! I nee’ yo’ so b-bad, Mommy!” She chuckled darkly, letting go of your hair and interlacing a hand with yours. She slowly eased you off of her, and you whined pitifully as a result. She guided you to rest on the floor, her body towering over yours as she sat in front of you.
“That’s it, good girl.” She dragged out the praise. “Now, get to work, we don’t have all night.” She guided your face to her now bare skin and your lips met her clit in an urgent manner, desperate to feel her cum all over you.
You were unable to notice the camera aiming in your direction, or the crowd erupting out of the doors that you were parked in front of. But she did. She noticed everything, but she denied letting you do the same. But that was okay, you’d do anything she wanted. It was only fair for how well she took care of and protected you. After all, she was your Mommy, she’d go to any extent to keep you safe, and you’d go to any extent to make her as happy as you could.
#maria hill x you#maria hill angst#maria hill x fem!reader#maria hill fluff#maria hill x reader smut#maria hill x reader#maria hill imagine#maria hill smut#maria hill marvel#maria hill#maria hill x gender neutral reader#maria hill x reader angst#maria hill x fem!reader smut#maria hill x y/n#marvel#marvel x reader#marvel fanfiction#marvel smut
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“Takin’ care of my best girl.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: reader has a panic attack during the night.
warnings: panic attack, anxiety, tears and descriptions of anxiety symptoms, hurt/comfort, fear of allergic reaction/throat swelling.
You’re sitting on the porch. The air is cool and breezy against your face, the moon shines a calming light on the grass in from of you, making it shimmer. There’s cats roaming in trash cans. Maybe they’re raccoons, actually. It was a beautiful night, but you weren’t really able to enjoy it.
Your heart was pounding, head aching and body trembling with fear, a fear you didn’t know what it exactly was. Your stomach was so twisted with knots and nerves you thought you’d surely pass out. It hurt to breath. You couldn’t breath. Your hands were cradling your head, holding your body tight and hoping it would pass.
It always passed. It always went away and you were always okay. They didn’t normally get this bad. You were getting so much better at handling them. For some reason tonight wasn’t the case. You debated waking Eddie up, but you hated keeping him up with you when you got this way. It wasn’t fair to him.
You had tried all the things to help you. You squeezed an ice cub in your palm, took a cold shower, tried watching to tv to distract yourself. You couldn’t stop swallowing, testing to see if your throat was closing up, which was now raw and irritated from your constant swallowing. You tried taking deep breaths, hands shaking as you placed a hand over your chest, grasping at your shirt.
Once you thought you were getting better, it would start up again. The sudden racing of your heart that made you breathless. After a few minutes, you began to pace, gripping at your chest and willing it to go away. What if there was something wrong with you? Were your lungs actually closing? Were you having an allergic reaction?
That’s what got you every time. You always thought you were dying, and you never were.
You needed to go to the hospital. You couldn’t stand it anymore. You’d been to the er many times for panic attacks, but what if it was serious this time? With trembling legs you walked back inside to your bedroom, rounding the bed and shaking Eddie urgently.
“Eddie?” Your still holding your chest. “Eddie?”
His eyes flutter open, squinting in the dark. “Hmm?”
“I’m scared.” You say, bringing up a nail to bite. “I think something might be wrong.”
Those key words had him sitting up, rubbing his eyes. He leans over and switches on the light, looking up to take you in. He knows what’s wrong immediately, lifting the blanket so he can get out of bed. “What’s going on?” His voice is tired and gruff. “You anxious about something?”
You shake your head yes, grasping at your throat. “I- I uh, I think my throat might be swelling up. Maybe I ate something.”
He nods slowly, bringing his hands up to ghost at your arms. “What brought this on? Did it just start?”
“No, I’ve been up awhile.” You say, trying to swallow again. You do, but harshly, pushing out a choked breath that has you pacing around the room. “Eddie, I’m scared.”
“You’re alright, baby.” He’s following you, grabbing your hand. “Come on, let’s go out to the living room.” He guides you out there, sitting you on the kitchen chair by the stove. “I’ll make you some tea.”
Your eyes start to well up and you shake your head. “No, I- I think we should go to the hospital, Eddie.” Your voice came out desperate.
He’d done this with you so many times, yet the urgency and fear in your voice always made him nervous, even though he knew you were completely fine. He puts the tea in the microwave, setting it for two minutes before he’s crouching in front of you. “Hey,” He’s grasping your face. “You’re alright. You know that. We just have to work through it okay? Like we always do.”
You let out a sob that makes his heart ache, a tear dropping town to his wrist. “But I’m scared.”
“I know you are.” He coos, petting your hair. “If you really want to go I’ll take you, but you’re strong enough to fight this, baby. I’m right here with you, right? We can get through this.” He leans up and kisses your forehead, then your cheek, going back to the microwave to let you think.
Your knee is bouncing quickly, your knuckles tapping at the table like you’re trying to communicate through morse code. Your breathing gets heavier and heavier, your head getting harder to keep up. You gasp, groaning loudly as you lean over.
He’s bringing the cup of tea over to you quickly, sitting it on the table to hold your back. “Just breath, sweetheart.” He’s rubbing your back, crouching beside you. “You’re alright.”
You start to sob, head between your knees as you fight to be sick. You hiccup, shoulders shaking with your cries. You reach to grip his arm. “My stomach hurts so bad.”
It wasn’t rare for you to throw up when you got worked up. He quickly brought the kitchen trashcan over to you, sitting it in front of you so you could have it at the ready.
“Keep breathing.” He instructs you, bringing the tea over to you. “Here, try and drink some of this.” He wasn’t ever sure if the tea helped, but it made him feel useful when you got to feeling poorly.
When your tea is gone, after practically gulping down the hot liquid, he’s rubbing your shaking shoulders, trying to get the knots out of muscles. He switches on the tv to gilligans island, the episode where the professor is trying to make a phone out of a coconut and a banana peel.
You keep crying through half of the episode, coiling over here and there. When you did, he rubbed the back of your neck and kissed your shoulder, telling you to breath and that you were going to get through it.
When you’re three episodes in, your tears have stopped and you’re left with nothing but embarrassment and humiliation, your face beat red as you begin to mutter an apology. “I’m sorry.” Your voice is shaky and hoarse. He’s sitting beside you now, his arm tossed around your shoulders.
“Don’t be.” He smiles, tapping your nose. “Just doing my job.”
“Your job?” You sniffle.
“Takin’ care of my best girl.” He kissed you, a quick peck on the lips as he leans over and turns off the living room light, snuggling back into the couch and pulling you into his chest.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#stranger things#stranger things season four#joseph quinn#eddie munson imagines#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x female reader
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I'm begging you to write about mean!abby and reader finding a kitten in one of the buildings, Abby not letting her save the kitten but reader cries all night so Abby HAS to go back and get the kitten...
a/n: plsss this is so cute 😭 thanks for the request baby ilysm and i may or may not have written too much about this 🤗💗💗
daily click / boycott tlou / help these families evacuate / free palestine
abby wasn’t mean necessarily, just very strict. she knew you even better than the back of her hand, and she liked that you depended on her for everything.
hungry? ask abby to make something for you. tired? good, it’s almost your bedtime, don’t want you being cranky in the morning. can’t reach something? better go get abby to grab it for you.
so when you saw that poor kitten while walking back to your apartment, you knew you had to ask her for it. it started with you just hearing a few pleading mewls before turning around and seeing it toddling toward you.
“aww, abs, look! it’s a little kitten!” your smile growing. you were met with a cold “hmm.” from abby. “can we take it home?” you asked. “absolutely not. we don’t have room for an animal.” it was partially true. your apartment wasn’t huge, but it was a comfortable size, and you were moving soon anyways.
ignoring her, you picked it up and continued strolling beside her, cooing at it’s small size and adorable face. “did you not hear me? i said put it back.” she snapped. “don’t call it an ‘it’, abs. i think it’s a girl.”
she glared at you, unamused. “now.” you walked over to a small corner and placed her down, giving her a final pet as your eyes welled up. even if you couldn’t keep her, you at least hoped you’d see her again. maybe it would become a neighborhood cat that everybody mutually loved, everyone except abby.
you didn’t talk to her the rest of the walk home, which was short, or even meet her gaze. although you understood that she only ever tried to look out for you, sometimes she was too strict. you went to bed that night without even returning a kiss, too angry at her, too worried about the poor kitten all alone outside. scared, cold, hungry.
these thoughts continued to plague your mind, eventually causing tears to collect. you hid your face in abby’s chest and sniffled, trying not to start sobbing. “baby?” she asked, “are you alright?”
“abs… that poor kitty. it doesn’t even have a family.” you were crying now. “w-what if it gets too cold, or it gets h-hit by a car.”
abby frowned at your words. “it won’t, honey. it’s already survived this long, it can go a few more nights before someone else picks it up.”
“but it’s n-not supposed to survive on its own. someone probably left it there to die.” you were sobbing, too.
“well, we’re not taking it home. i’m sorry, hate me all you want but we don’t have time or space for a pet.” you didn’t understand how she could be so mean. you cried even harder at this, hoping, praying the cute little guy survives. you cried into her chest until eventually, sleep took you.
abby had other plans. she didn’t know you’d instantly get so attached to that cat, and she hated that now you were crying because of her. she only wanted to do what was best for you, but there was no winning this battle.
once she was sure you were asleep, she slid her shoes back on and headed outside, hoping it was stills there, even more that there was only one. to her luck, the kitten was still there, instantly jumping up and waddling toward her. it’s meows seeming louder than earlier, like it recognized her or something.
she picked it up with two hands, trying not to hold it too close in case she changes her mind about wanting to keep it. slowly, she tiptoed back inside, trying her hardest not to wake you.
her fingers raced to ask google every question she had about caring for it. things like what to feed a baby kitten or where to get kitten milk replacer or how do baby cats stay warm at night? after finding what she needed, she put the kitten in an old shoebox and carried it out to the car.
surprisingly, the kitten didn’t seem to hate the drive, it was mostly just excited to be out of a big, scary parking lot. she put the car in park, and swore to herself that she would take no longer than 10 minutes in the store.
12 minutes later, she’s back with a syringe, a tin of kitten milk replacer, a heating pad, a litter box, and a water bowl. the kitten peeks up at her after she opens it just to check in. it meows and tries to grab her hand, but she closes it too quickly and drives back home.
when you wake up, you’re surprised to see that abby is still in bed with you. usually she’s at the gym, or if not, she’s definitely started her day by this time. with hands on her sides, you roll her over to cuddle with you. “abs,” you whisper into her neck, “why are you still here?”
“i had a long night.” she responded. “and i’m sorry i made you cry, i promise the cat will be fine.”
you completely ignored the second part, “long night? no you didn’t.” how could she have had a long night? she was in bed with you the whole time, right?
“go look on the kitchen table, silly girl.” so you did. you yawned and put on your slippers, making your way out of the bedroom.
on the kitchen counter you found an old shoebox, a heating pad with a temperature remote attached to it, a soft hand towel, and a sleeping gray kitten.
tears threatened to spill again as you felt abby’s arms wrap around you, her head snuggling into your neck and whispering “surprise.”
#guys mean!abby is kinda cute ngl#abby anderson#abby the last of us#abby tlou#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson fluff#the last of us
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5 reasons you’ve cried while pregnant
John Price addition
Simon Riley addition here
Johnny “Soap” McTavish
1. You were very emotional as it was, but now? Four months pregnant it was a rollercoaster ride. Man, what John would do to avoid those tears, you want a cheeseburger from across town and that lemonade only the gas station in the other town had? He’ll get it. But sometimes things can’t be avoided.
You walk in with your shopping bags, eyes full of tears. You drop the bags and catch John's attention from the kitchen only for him to drop what he was doing to rush to you. “What’s wrong baby?” He asks you.
“A little bumblebee died on my car while I was shopping.” You sob, you felt so stupid but you just couldn’t stop crying. John was taken aback not knowing how to respond as he generally rubbed your back to try and console you.
2. You tried, you tried hard not to call John during his debriefing meeting with the team. John checks his phone as he speaks to the team, “hold on guys,” he sighs and walks out. He steps just outside the door keeping it open. “Love?” He asked, he sounds annoyed.
It was only month six, you felt useless and helpless. You heard the annoyance in his tone. You felt even more guilty for calling for such a stupid reason, “never mind. I’m sorry for bothering you.” You say sniffling.
John immediately feels guilty for the way he answered, “no baby, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to sound mean.” John says quietly as the team watches him through the door.
“I um, I can’t open the orange juice jug and I want the orange juice and I can’t have it.” You ramble crying harder.
He pinches his nose, “the meeting is almost over, I’ll be home soon so you can have your orange juice. Just stay strong. You can do it.” He says making all the men snicker, including Simon. Price hangs up after consoling you some more. “I suggest you shut it. Especially you Simon because not long ago, your petting zoo started.” Price says. All the boys laugh at Simon now, what started as a cat ended up as a baby goat that now rests happily in his house.
3. It was 3 am, your designated snack time. Tonight? Cupcakes WITHOUT the icing, but to your dismay, you didn’t have any cupcakes. Tears, immediately.
You waddled to your bedroom where Price slept soundly (not for long), you shake him awake not being gentle, did you eat my cupcakes!” You yell at him.
He’s half asleep, all he sees is your red face and angry tears streaming down your face. He’s groggy, “I- I don’t know?” He mumbles.
“You ate them!” You cry harder now realizing there weren’t any cupcakes.
“I’ll go to the store, and get you some more!” He says now realizing how dire the situation is. He works in two hours, this isn’t how he wanted to start his day.
“I don’t want icing on them!” You yell at him.
“I’ll eat all the icing, you won’t even notice there was icing!” He says quickly pulling on his shoes.
When he returns home, he sits at the dining table as he eats off all the icing and you sit happily with the naked cupcakes. He glares at you as his stomach starts to ache from all the sugary icing, he hates sugar, but seeing you smile after just screaming at him, he’ll deal with the aches.
4. You starred long and hard at the ground constantly shifting your body around, “what are you doing love?” John smiles as he lifted himself on his elbows on the bed to watch you.
“Can’t see my feet.” Your bottom lip trembled and he sees it through the mirror, he gets up to try and stop the tears, “I’m so fat!” You cry stomping your foot on the ground.
“No love, you aren’t fat! Your growing a tiny human in your belly!” John tries to argue.
“I’m fat!” You say sobbing, pushing him away, “don’t wanna be touched.” You cry even harder.
5. You’ve sent John through the wringer these last few months but month nine? Fuck, it was a challenge. You were angry or horny most of the time, even he couldn’t keep up with your pace.
“Johnn,” you whine, “it hurts.” You sniffle.
“What hurts baby?” He asks rubbing your lower back
“Down there, need you.” You sob into the pillow. Fuck, this was one of the times he loved seeing you cry. Crying for him, “please,” you ask looking up at him with tears running down your face.
“Oh baby, how can I say no to you looking like that?” He asks before lifting your nightgown and diving in.
#captain john price#john price x reader#john price#captain price x reader#mw2022#mw2 x reader#mw2#cod mwii#cod x reader#cod mw2
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