#AN NO MORE CHANCE OF BABYS THANK FUCKIN GOD

[devilmademewriteit]

Ultraviolence

pairing: raider!joel miller x fem!afab!reader

summary: thank god—a handsome stranger saves you from the grips of a pack of cruel, cruel men. unfortunately, said stranger, joel miller, is cut from the exact same cloth as the rest of them.

warnings: oh. boy. rough sex/smut (fem penetration, fingering, cum play if you squint) so 18+ only content; fem!afab!reader; raider!joel; canon typical violence; mentions of hair pulling/reader having long hair; light dacryphilia; age gap; pet names (baby, darlin’, sweetheart, girl); slapping, spanking, choking; !!!NONCON!!! (sexual violence/assault, coercion, allusions to more sexual abuse—Dead Dove, Do Not Eat y’all, protect yourselves).

word count: 4k+

no use of y/n in this fic

alright y’all!!! here is the non-con raider!joel fic!! stay tuned for the version coming out soon wherein Joel actually rescues the reader LOL join the taglist to be notified when I post it!!! y’all’s requests will quite legit be the death of me BUT this was fun to write so im not mad. this version is just purely depraved & Joel ‘Big Dick’ Miller is a mean mean man. wrote it pretty fast too so b nice 2 me.

love u all, sorry for searing your eyeballs:)

-em<3

—

The stucco prickles and tears at the flushed skin of your cheek, a reminder that it’ll be winter soon. The birds are sure of it, and most of them managed to get away before the frost stood a chance of nipping them.

You didn’t.

After a few years of non-stop struggle, losing everything but your own life, you figured there were worse ways to go. At least you would be… well—you, in the end.

In whatever shape this man and his leering group of accomplices left you in.

“Against the wall,” and his voice had been the crack of a whip, snapping by your ear as electricity shot up and down your spine, as the tingling realization that the chase was over—the jig, up—settled into your bones. “Spread your fuckin’ legs.”

There were more hounds around… waiting.

Always waiting.

They’d already gotten to your old, tattered clothes. The brisk air bites at your exposed skin, but at least the cold would account for the violent shivers wracking your limbs. Even as the beast pins you to the side of the decrepit house, forces himself between your knees, your primary preoccupation is to stifle your fear.

They’d get everything else on display—but they would never get to see that.

When the screaming starts, those confused grunts, huffs, and squelches of a blade carving into flesh, you mostly commend your own imagination:

“I did it. I’m in my happy place. This will be quick, then.”

But then a rough, unfamiliar hand grabs hold of your naked waist, flipping you around, slamming your spine against the frosty stucco.

This is real.

And you bear witness to his carnage.

He painted the side of the house into a mosaic of inter-mingling blood, splattered like a Pollock against the grass, the wrinkled clothes and the rugged face of your salvation.

His eyes rake over your still-trembling body before he wrenches a red-coated knife—never breaking eye-contact—from the throat of the man you’d been at the mercy of just a few seconds ago.

Blood gushes up from the fatal wound, and you both watch the cruel scene, mesmerized. The attacker’s eyes dull, all evil dissipating from that once-ferocious gaze. The rescuer’s big, wide hands flip him over, stripping him of his stained beige jacket. Then, he carelessly kicks the lifeless form face-down onto the yellowing grass.

“Put it on.”

You uncross your arms, snatching the coat from the stranger’s extended hands. It doesn’t bother you, its belonging to him.

He’s dead; you get his coat.

A fair exchange.

He keeps an eye on you as he sorts through the pickings: a few strips of dried meat here, a loaded gun there (two bullets in the clip—you watch as he checks), and a few good blades, stashed inside pockets, bags, and down shirt-fronts.

The man straightens up.

Tall.

“Get in front of me,” his low baritone strikes you, causing your knees to concede to a slight wobble. “You run, you die. Got it?”

Texan.

Slowly, you nod, and a firm grip circles your wrist, tearing you from the wall.

“Walk.”

Your heart hammers—near deafening in your ears—as the stranger stalks behind you, directing your trembling movements with brusque, snapped commands.

Finally, the scattered orangey-red leaves begin to multiply, the domestic remnants of a past civilization thinning. The neighborhood opens into a field; large oaks and slouching willows shiver under the weak glare of the afternoon sun.

There’s a house up there. It seems to be in alright shape (some things are built tougher than others) and it’s certainly a step up from a few of the more… unsavory places the outbreak had led you to.

Nearing it, you take not of how much it resembles a barn-house. Red, pentagonal roof, and a big, wide, brown front door.

Gingerly stepping a foot on the cracked wood of the porch, you turn to face your rescuer, uncertainty tying slippery knots in your tummy.

Because there’s clamour coming from inside. There’s people in there.

The momentary hesitation allows you to get a good look at your rescuer: he’s greying and dark—mixed, likely, or just disposed to a stubborn tan—and probably in his mid forties. Probably handsome, too, if it weren’t for the resident cruel scowl deepening his apathetic expression, or the violence dancing in his eyes.

A raise of his eyebrows.

“I tell you to stop?” He nods towards the looming house. “Move.”

But… you don’t.

“Are you gonna kill me?” and you’re downright shocked by the strength—the resignation—of your tone, the way the question comes out so matter-of-fact.

That sparse mustache crinkles in the corners, teasing into something wicked. “You want me to?”

“No.”

“So get movin’, then.”

That left little room for debate.

So, you turn, fingers and knees shaking with anxious anticipation. He cuts in front of you at the last minute, shoving the front door open with his knife at his side—for you or for something else, you’re not entirely certain.

He pulls you into the foyer by your forearm; to your great dismay, you’re faced with an entire group of middle-aged men. Killers—for sure—leering at you with that same starved, animalistic look your rescuer had fixed you with.

Then, he tosses the bag on the floor.

“Found ‘em by the school. Decent haul.”

Their eyes tilt to your shuddering frame, dwarfed by the jacket weighing down your shoulders. One of them looks strangely familiar, proud features reminding you of something else you were afraid of. “No shit, huh,” he commends, “Nice work, Joel.”

Joel.

As the shaggy-haired man speaks, his voice strikes familial resemblance, and it dawns on you. Your rescuer’s brother, or at the very least a cousin.

And what he says is a clearly marked taunt. That much is clear. Uttered with the kind of cruel camaraderie which collected on the tongues of men who committed acts of violence together.

Who hunted together.

And it’s obvious you’re not being rescued. Just… reclaimed. Redistributed.

Fuck.

Another voice joins the mix. “How much you think y’could get for her?”

Joel’s profile turns, harsh, brutal lines forming as he assesses you. “Depends,” and then—ohmothermary—he smirks.

“Gonna have to test her out first.”

A few snickers.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

You’re trapped with nowhere to go, once again surrounded by a gaggle of soulless monsters. Fear grips you, but thankfully, it’s muted, now, having been mostly expended during the harrowing events of the morning.

Just an hour ago, pressed to the side of an abandoned house, you’d allowed yourself to give up.

So, it feels easy—natural—settling back into that rhythm.

To submit to your inevitable, violent fate.

Joel’s voice cuts through the clamour of your racing thoughts. “Upstairs, the room with the open door. Go.”

Eyes glued to the floor, you put one foot in front of the other, your insides twisting and turning inside your core. Fuck, you can feel the pairs of eyes following you with every step you take. The stairs creak as your weight presses into them, squealing like wounded prey.

“N’ take that fuckin’ jacket off,” Joel calls after you, the echoes of his booming voice and the group’s degrading laughter chasing you all the way up into the room—the one with the open door.

And it’s nice, surprisingly. Dusty, admittedly, and clearly having belonged to someone else—a long, long time ago—but the bed is made, the window lets the light in, and the walls remind you of cinnamon.

No, this wouldn’t be the worst prison. Or the worst place to die. It’s a sure-fire step up from the gutter between two dilapidated houses.

You keep the jacket on, shivering under its weight. Even as you hear footsteps climbing the stairs, even as the more rational, civilized side of your mind urges you to accede to your (non)rescuer’s every command.

The conversation downstairs dies off just as Joel rounds the corner, appearing in the doorway—a giant. Though your stomach lurches, and though your legs feel like putty, you hold your ground.

“I’ll fight, you know,” you hiss, watching him seal off the entrance to the room behind him. His flannel has droplets of blood on the collar—reminders of your previous captor—would your other attacker have been a better option? Who’d be more merciful to your quivering body?

You charge your voice with every last modicum of strength at your disposal. “I’ll fight.”

He turns, smirking softly at your clenched fists. “S’good, sweetheart. I like a little fight.” He stalks towards you, swiping his thumb along the plushness of his bottom lip, his intimidating presence forcing your back to meet the flat hardness of the wall behind you.

So much for fighting.

There’s nothing living in his eyes as he says it—nothing save the roiling flames of hunger: “You see those guys downstairs?”

You glare up at him, trying not to notice the alluring hook of his nose, or the way your body works against you, responding to the earthy smell of him.

Then, you nod, wordlessly.

“Did you count ‘em?” He splays a hand beside your head, using one hand to pry your arms uncrossed.

Again, you nod. “How many?” He asks, his voice deceptively soft.

“Five.” Breathless.

“S’right, sweetheart. Ever had your lil’ holes stuffed by five guys at once?”

A swallow, and your voice cracks when you’re finally able to put it to use. “No.”

He pries your elbows to your sides, pulling the beige fabric open, revealing the torn remains of your underwear.

It’s almost a croon, feigned concern underpinning his low tone. “You wanna see what it’s like?” He drinks in the sight of your bare chest, almost groaning at the sight of your naked front.

It’s not cold anymore; no, suddenly you’re very hot.

“No, please, no.”

He slips the coat off of your shoulders, letting it fall in a heap to the ground. He assesses you once more: studying every square inch of your skin under his shadowed eyes.

“M’only gonna say this once, sweetheart.” All that fake-gentleness fades from his tone, replaced by the sadistic, authoritative timbre he’d first greeted you with. “I need you to be very careful.”

You’re frozen—all that fight, it drains out of you, captivated by the raider’s looming form, his mesmerizing speech.

“You’re alone, yeah?” A nod, which he acknowledges, trailing a hand up the length of your waist. “S’what I thought. N’ the way I found you today? That’s a best-case-scenario for a girl like you, out here on your own.”

He drags a finger up the centre of your breast, skilled fingertips just barely brushing the peaked nipple. You lean into his touch—the near imperceptible arch of your back doesn’t go unnoticed, and you kick yourself internally as the corners of his lips twitch up.

Still, the raider ignores your trembling.

“You’re mine, now,” he continues, egged on by your involuntary movement. “Means you’re gonna be a good girl n’ do as I say, n’ I’ll make sure I’m the only man who touches you.” His big hand drops to his heavy silver buckle, and the clearly defined, bulging lines underneath it have your heart clawing out of your chest. Joel senses your fear—and it only makes him harder. “I don’t like sharin’ what’s mine, y’know? But you try anything—you step outta line—I’ll throw you to my guys downstairs.”

His hand finds your throat, hunger and warning beating to the same rhythm in his gaze. “I have no problem watching.” He gives your larynx a squeeze, multitasking as he pulls the strap of his belt through the worn loops of his denim. “Understood?”

You have no words left, shaking from head to toe as the reality of the situation finally settles in.

As he works the intimidating weight of his cock out of his jeans.

A huff. Joel flips you over, impatient, pressing your scraped up cheek to the cinnamon-brown of the wall.

Déjà vù.

Your knees are separated by his own, and his weight flattens you. He wastes no time: lining himself up, his tip separates your folds. Resistance is futile—with one hand, he holds your thighs open—even as they try to press themselves closed, even as you whimper at the rough, male knuckles pressed to bruise on the insides of your legs.

Leaving his mark.

It’s not an option to simply take it. Joel forces you to participate in the sinful act: “I asked you a fuckin’ question,” he growls, gripping your chin indelicately. “You understand me, girl?”

A swallow and a flinch as you feel the head of his cock poke at your entrance. “Yes. Okay. Yes.”

“Yes, Joel,” he corrects. “Use my name. You’re mine now. Use my fuckin’ name.”

Tears prick the corners of your eyes at the promised savagery in his tone. Holding back a sob, you respond: “Yes, Joel.”

You watch his hand, large and capable, splaying out a mere inch away from the tip of your nose. “Good,” he commends. “Z’are the only fuckin’ words you know, from now on.”

His free hand slaps against your hip, yanking you down onto his hard length. Your hips buck up against his abdomen, responding to the pull of his fingertips, even as you cry out at the sting, the stretch. The raider tries to force himself between your walls—muttering a grunted “shit”—and thrusting up against your ass.

But you’re too tight, too tense, and your stubborn body refuses to open up for him. Finally listening to you.

“Relax,” he orders, surprisingly softly. He moves his hand from your hip to the apex of your thighs, rubbing rough circles against your clit. Fuck, how’d he find it so fast? You gasp at the feel of his fingertips against your most sensitive, touch-starved spot, hating yourself for the way his pressure makes you feel.

Because…

Because—fuck.

It feels… good. The man knows exactly what he’s doing—methodical in his ministrations, prepping you only enough to ensure his own eventual pleasure. “S’too tight, baby,” he breathes against your neck, “Need to loosen up for me, yeah?”

He’s not gentle. No part of it is gentle. Nonetheless, pleasure ripples through your centre and down your thighs as he effectively turns you on.

“Thaaaaaa’s right,” and his voice is mocking and taunting and degrading as he drags his digits away, grabbing and pulling at your breasts, instead. Feeling the involuntary release of your cunt, Joel finally pushes himself in, sheathing the long, thick length of his cock inside you.

“Need to show this pussy what it’s fuckin’ made for.”

A current of pain flutters up your cunt just as he fills it up to the brim. You can’t help it—your stoicism crumbles to dust—and a soft, scared, pained whimper tumbles from your lips.

And he groans at it, thrusting roughly, over and over again. And again. “Hurts, does it?”

His breath is hot against your ear, and despite the fear, the ancient instincts gripping your bones, telling you to run, run, run, fight, fight, fight—it’s… enticing.

Hot.

“It hurts.”

He laughs, low and dark, bringing his hands to circle your hips, steadying you as you stumble on your tip-toes.

“Cry about it.”

And he keeps on going, tearing you open. The way his girth touches every starved part of your insides leaves you wanting, even despite the sting of his fingernails biting into your hips, the tears and cuts stinging at your opening.

You hate yourself for it.

But you clench around him, stifling a pathetic moan.

God, no—I am not enjoying this.

He breathes another laugh. “Feelin’ full, baby? Tell me how good it feels, c’mon,” and your inhalations come in heaves as he pounds into you, delivering a harsh slap to the side of your hip, hard enough for your skin to ripple from the contact. “Do as I say.”

When you refuse to sate him, swallowing all of your little noises, Joel grips your throat, bringing your head slamming against his shoulder. Your back arches into a perfect crescent, spine contorting at his will. A gasped cry fans out against his salt-and-pepper jaw.

A sob—of fear, of frustration, of reluctant pleasure. “You’re evil.”

The grip on your throat tightens, and he looses another laugh, squeezing your skin, muscles, and tendons oh-so-tight.

You’d be wrecked, bruised—branded—come sunrise.

“Yeah?” He groans, cock slamming up into your very guts.

“M-mhmm—” and the saltwater tears start pouring, trailing glistening slopes down your cheeks in long, long lines. Distantly, you hear his answer—“Yeah, well, you’re wet”—as those silver droplets keep on falling. Where they come from, you aren’t certain; of course, the terror, the physical torture, and the frustration at your entrapment contribute to the mess under your eyes.

But that warmth… the unbridled desire radiating between your thighs… that wasn’t helping, either.

“Fuuuuck,” he groans, muttering another “S’it—s’right,” and releasing your throat to tilt your head up to face him. He drinks in his creation, the ruined sight of your tear-stricken face, and his cock swells between your beaten walls. “God, you look so fuckin’ pretty takin’ it from me—cryin’ like your lil’ pussy ain’t desperate for this.”

Joel smiles when you sob.

It goes on for a while. He doesn’t tire quickly, bringing you right up to the edge of reluctant ecstasy before you remind yourself of the hatred you owed the man fucking into you. You get used to the sound of his hips snapping against your skin, your cries mingling with his gravelly, low grunts. It’s a dirty, depraved symphony—orchestrated by the monster between your thighs.

You can’t help the moan that escapes your lips when he finally, finally brings his fingers back down between your legs. He grunts in approval, barely grazing the length of your folds, pressing his thumb into the delicate flesh of your thigh, instead. “Dirty lil’ girl—fuckin’ dyin’ to be an old man’s whore, z’that it?” and he doesn’t even touch you, focussed on his own pleasure, but the proximity alone is enough to have you wrecked.

And you just can’t help it: “J-joel—”

“Y’know,” he chuckles, slightly out of breath, slowing his strokes to address your wanton whine, “You’re gonna make such a good lil’ fuck-toy, baby, f’you keep makin’ those pretty lil’ noises for me.”

The reality of the situation comes barrelling down on you as he acknowledges—praises—your enjoyment of his torture.

This man… this man was cruel. He was hurting you, and enjoying it.

You struggle against him, a pathetic show of weakness. Joel holds you in place effortlessly, arching your back further, keeping your hips preened back to receive the harsh thrusts he delivers to your torn, ruined cunt. “Where you goin’?” He laughs at your pathetic attempt at resistance, grips tightening. “Thought we were havin’ fun, baby—don’t it feel good?”

And he quickens again, slamming into every needy spot inside you. His breaths grow shallow, as rough as his hands and the ferocity of this punishment.

“No,” you manage, fingernails digging into his forearm.

He tuts, the vocal click constricted with lust, and his hand travels the length of you, settling against that aching bud between your thighs. “Fuckin’ liar.”

He presses down, proving his point. Your entire body tenses as pleasure ripples through you—despite your best efforts, climax crests through your core, threatening to implode within you. Joel hums, smirking when he feels your legs parting even wider.

“S’mine now, alright? You’re mine now.” He crams every inch of his cock up inside you, pulling you flush against his chest. “S’okay to come for me—s’okay, baby, I want you to—s’fuckin’ right, let go for me, baby—” and his crooning takes you over the edge.

Christ, it feels so good.

You clench around him, high-pitched pleas and moans tumbling from your lips, his own pair dragging down the swoop of your ear. In that split second, Joel—the devil at your back—is your favourite thing in the world: your hero, your haven, your God. Fuck, you could just kiss him, marry him, fuck him over and over and over and over—

A hand clamps over your mouth during those brief, blissful moments; the man practically bounces you up and down the length of him, muffling the cries of pain and pleasure tearing from your sore throat against the rough skin of his palm. He groans inside your ear—a stammered, sinful “fuuuck”—and then he’s spilling his seed inside you, shoving it impossibly deep as those quick, harsh strokes stutter and slow.

You come to, waking up from your pleasure-drunk daze. Before you get the opportunity to wriggle away from him, the monster flips you over again, slamming your shoulders to the wall. With his forearm barring your chest, and despite your fear and ire—somehow, all you can think about is the fact that he’s not as out of breath as he really should be (given his age and, of course, what he’d just done to you).

Joel leaks out of you. His cum paints masterpieces down your legs.

He slides his free hand down the length of his cock, collecting the last bits of slick clinging to him and not dripping out of you. The intermingling juices are brought to the roundness of your breasts—the raider slathers your sore peaks with his own spend.

“Nobody’s gonna fuck with you—but that means you’re Joel’s girl. Hear me?” With your head bowed, you glare up at him through silver-lined spider lashes, shame beating at your cheeks. When you hum your acknowledging “uh-huh,” the stranger continues on, gripping your jaw to angle your gaze up: “Means you listen—you-you don’t fuckin’ try me—n’ you take everything I give you, every fuckin’ time. Understand?” He tucks his softening length back in his pants, dark eyes dancing with satisfaction as he leers at your destroyed form.

When you don’t respond, he brings the back of his punishing hand colliding with the side of your face.

Something between a squeal and a gasp tumbles from your lips; Joel catches it, placing the pad of his thumb to your bottom lip, pressing down. Your cheek stings from his harsh slap, delivered on top of the scrapes and wounds a different cruel man had left upon your skin.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, baby, but I will f’I have to,” and he’s earnest, commanding and pleading at once. “You gotta answer me.”

Slowly, you croak out a timid, “Yes,” and an “I understand,” followed by a final “Joel.”

Nodding, he straightens, the violence in his gaze fading just minutely. When he lets go, you stagger—the raider senses the instability of your knees, reflexively snaking a steadying arm around your waist.

You’re not sure where the impulse comes from. Perhaps it’s exhaustion, the aftermath of your orgasm, or maybe it’s just a sick, twisted desire to sink into something beyond your body—either way, you respond to Joel’s support by throwing your arms around his neck.

And he responds by lifting you, walking you over to the bed, and tossing you down on the sheets. Awakening into reality, you scamper back, grabbing and yanking at the surrounding bedding in a desperate attempt to cover yourself.

But Joel pays you no mind.

Having had his way, he’s through with you—for now. Nonchalantly, apathetically, he runs a hand through his hair, tracing heavy steps towards the door.

“Lock the door when I leave,” he instructs, but his tone is soft… possessive and commanding, yes, but… caring. “Don’t open it for anyone but me.”

He waits for your show of understanding, your near imperceptible nod.

Then, he sighs, yanking on the handle and giving you his final address over a pair of creaky, squeaky, rusted hinges. “Try to sleep, sweetheart—got a long night ahead of you.” Chuckling to himself, he leaves the sanctuary of the room.

All you can hear as your body grows heavy and warm, travelling somewhere far, far beyond this violent world are the echoes of male laughter down the hall, and a familiar, satisfied, gravelly voice:

“Not worth much, now. Might just fuckin’ keep her.”

And you slip away, dreaming of belt buckles, blood-stained collars, and the lung-squeezing heat of the setting Texan sun.

—

He used to call me DN

That stood for deadly nightshade

'Cause I was filled with poison

But blessed with beauty and rage

Jim told me that

He hit me and it felt like a kiss

Jim brought me back

Reminding me of when we were kids

With his ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

I can hear sirens, sirens

He hit me and it felt like a kiss

I can hear violins, violins

Give me all of that ultraviolence

He used to call me poison

Like I was poison ivy

I could've died right then

'Cause he was right beside me

Jim raised me up

He hurt me but it felt like true love

Jim taught me that

Loving him was never enough

With his ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

I can hear sirens, sirens

He hit me and it felt like a kiss

I can hear violins, violins

Give me all of that ultraviolence

We can go back to New York

Loving you was really hard

We could go back to Woodstock

Where they don't know who we are

Heaven is on earth

I would do anything for you, babe

Blessed is this union

Crying tears of gold, like lemonade

I love you the first time

I love you the last time

Yo soy la princesa, comprende mis white lines

'Cause I'm your jazz singer

And you're my cult leader

I love you forever

I love you forever

With his ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

I can hear sirens, sirens

He hit me and it felt like a kiss

I can hear violins, violins

Give me all of that ultraviolence

—

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #raider!joel miller #raider!joel #tlou #the last of us #joel miller the last of us #Joel miller fanfiction #Pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel miller tlou

[beefrobeefcal]

Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Joel Miller & his Darlin' One Shot: A Trouble Shared is a Trouble Halved Summary: You and Joel navigate settling down in Jackson as a couple with its ups and downs. (Post Outbreak)

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 3,900

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, fingering (f receiving), talk of eating, weight gain, oral (f receiving), angst, established relationship growing pains, argument

Author's Notes: Am I back? Maybe baby! I'm delighted to finally do what was asked of me in a poll and I thank you all for your love and patience.

Thanks be to @neverwheremoonchild, @strang3lov3, and @notjustjavierpena for their eyes, thots, and brains. And thank you to @noxturnalpascal for the THOT that gave life to this fic so very long ago.

“Eatin’ like it's your last day on earth, Miller...”, you teased with a wry smile as you walked past him in the dining hall.

“Shut it...”, he grumbled, a bit of pink flushing his cheeks. He took another bite of gravy-flooded mashed potatoes.

“What helping’s this? Third? Fourth?”

Joel looked at you, exasperated. “The fuck? Can't a man enjoy his girl’s cookin’ without the third degree?”

You smiled at him, loving how much of a rise you were getting. It had been a few months since you and Joel had your first encounter, and while nothing was made official, more often than not, you’d find yourself entwined with Joel in your bed at night. His heavy, full stomach pressed against your back as you both slept peacefully. While you enjoyed your time together, you were beginning to feel something was lacking, hence your teasing.

The cold glare he gave immediately dampened the playful banter between you. You felt a twist in your mood and sour heat in your stomach.

He shook his turkey leg at you, giving you a scolding look, and warned, “You better knock that shit off, Darlin’... or so help me, I’m not gonna - .”

“Not gonna what?”, you asked, getting closer, and you voice dropped down to a cool whisper only he could hear. “Not gonna fuck me? Pretty sure haven’t been doing that lately anyway, so what’d be the difference, huh?”

He sat back with wide eyes and his mouth open in shock, and his full belly sat rounded out on his lap. You stood up, brow raised, and arms crossed.

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?!”

Joel was affectionate, but usually too tired, full or both to do anything but let you ride him. And not to say you didn't enjoy it, but it was starting to feel a bit one sided. He hadn’t done anything beyond finger you a bit to get you ready and then sweet talk you into being on top again. He’d apologize and praise you, but you wanted more. Especially now that there was more to him.

His eating habits had really started to impact his physique; his jawline was softer, his arms and thighs were thicker, but his stomach was truly the star of the show. He’d made do with the clothes he had for as long as he could, but at the rate he was eating and the limited physical activity he’d been doing, he had to trade labor and time for new shirts and pants that would fit him. And on nights when he ate like this, you swore you could hear the seams praying to their polyester gods for mercy.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“Coulda fooled me!”, he snapped, louder than he meant. “Seems to do the trick and make you whine and mewl like a beaten dog almost every night!”

You felt your face get hot as a few heads in the dining hall turned towards you. He sighed and his eyes softened as he saw your face fall a bit. But you held firm, pulling your mouth into a scowl.

“Not every night, nowhere near it. And I’m the one doing the work. I’m the one fuckin’ you!”, you hissed.

Before giving him a chance to say anything else, you quickly turned and went back into the kitchen.

*****

After storming out of the dining hall, you’d spent the rest of your shift cleaning the entire kitchen, probably to a degree it hadn’t been since its installation. You’d scrubbed and polished every surface with enough fury in your eyes that no one dared step in. It wasn’t until you heard the jukebox turn off and see the lights in the dining hall dim that you realized you’d been at this for a few hours.

As you leaned back against the counter, head down and thinking over how your and Joel’s interaction had escalated like that, you heard a small voice say your name. You looked up and saw Sally, one of the other kitchen attendants.

“Sorry - don’t mean to interrupt, but I’m tryin’ to close up and Joel won’t leave. Says he’s not leavin’ without’cha.”

You scoffed out a ‘for fuck’s sake’ then walked to the swinging doors, only to see Joel, still seated where he was before, leaning back in his chair and picking his teeth with a toothpick. His eyes met yours, and you knew just from the look he was giving, he had a lot more to say.

“Joel, go home. Need to close up and can’t if you’re here.”

He looked behind you at Sally and gave her a small wave. “I’ll help her close up, Sally. You run on home. We got this.”

“Joel!”, you hissed.

“Go on now, Sally.”

His tone left little room for Sally to argue, and she muttered a ‘good night’ as she passed by you then Joel as head made her way out the door.  You sighed, clenching your jaw, feeling the frustration and anger that you’d just weeded down in your cleaning frenzy begin to rise again. Joel watched Sally leave, then turned back to you, smug look on his face, made all the smugger as he noted your irritation.

“Darlin’, cut that shit out and come’ere.”, he crooned with a small grin, hilding his hand out to you.

You glared at him, not moving from your position.

He kept his hand out and raised his eyebrows and let out a huff. “Don’t make this old man beg, baby…”

“I think this old man has a lot more ground to cover than just beggin’.”, you responded cooly, crossing your arms across your chest. Before Joel could answer, you turned and went back to the kitchen to finish your duties.

You figured there was a 50 / 50 chance of Joel following you in, so as the door swung open and his heavy footsteps lumbered towards you, you knew he was at least picking up slightly on the passive aggressive breadcrumbs you’d dropped. You kept your back to him, drying cutlery and putting them into their respective bins.

“Darlin’…”

Joel’s voice was set low in a growl, leaving you unable to tell whether he was angry or aroused. You jumped as his hand grazed your lower back and settled on your waist, giving you a small squeeze.

“You wan’me to beg?”, he huskily growled into the back of your neck as he pressed a kiss to your skin.

“I gotta finish closin’ up, Joel.”, you stated, keeping your voice as even and unaffected as you could muster.

Joel let out a frustrated sigh-turned-grunt and let you go, stepping back. He leaned back against the wooden shelf behind him, the wood creaking in objection to his weight.

“Fuck, you’re being-“, he started, before letting out a huff. “What has gotten into you?”

Turning around, you were met with something you didn’t anticipate – a dark, sullen, glaring Joel, eyes burning into you.

“Joel-“, you groaned, before he cut you off.

“Don’t fuckin’ Joel me.”, he snapped. “You got a lot of fuckin’ nerve. You know what you said in front of the people eatin’ their food out there? You said I wasn’t fuckin’ you right. And then, I sit here like a goddamned fool, waitin’ for you to finish so we can talk, and you turn your back on me.”

“Joel, I need t-“

“Shut up! I ain’t done talkin’!”

You close your mouth and swallow hard. While you’d seen him get mad before, Joel had never directed it towards you before, and lord almighty, it sucked.

“You think I’m a fuckin’ mind reader? Think I’m gonna know you’re not happy?”, he asked, sounding loud and desperate, as he stood up and stalked towards you.

As he looked down at you, realization of how much bigger he was, in height and weight, came over you.

“I have said someth-“, you tried to argue, but his large hand grabbing yours and tugging you against him stopped you.

“Don’t interrupt me!”, he barked. “You aint said shit! And now you – fuck! No. You know what? Ain’t worth it!”

His eyes glowered down into yours and you in turn felt your eyes begin to sting with tears at the loss of contact. This was the most emotionally charged you’d seen Joel, and you wanted that same energy and passion when he fucked you, not use it to berate you for needing him to give you the same time and attention he showered on the food you cooked for the whole community. You could feel your face getting hot from the anger that was boiling in you over how overlooked you felt, even if it wasn’t entirely true. You were in a heated, frenzied spiral and reason and rationale had abandoned you.

Before you could snap back and tell him how worth it you actually were, Joel’s eyes softened; he let out a deep breath and let go of your arm and stepped back.

“I’ll… I’ll see you at home.”, Joel muttered before he turned and walked out of the kitchen.

You stood silently and watched him leave, feeling your heart break and immolate in your rib cage and hot tears fall down your face. It hit you hard just how hurt you both were.

*****

The house was dark when you walked in the front door. Joel had left no lights on, and you knew Ellie would be at Dina’s house for the night. The only hint you had to deduce that Joel was in fact home was the dim light you saw through his bedroom window as you approached the house. You hung your coat and tucked your boots on the shelf before quietly ascending the stairs to go to your room.

As you tiptoed in the hallways, you passed Joel’s bedroom door and heard him moving around his room. You could see his shadow from the light slipping under his doorway and felt your stomach curdle and sour, your mind jumping to rash conclusions about what he could be doing in there.

Was he packing to move out and get away from you?

Was he trying to clean up to remove your smell?

Was he collecting your things that you’d left in his room so he could hand them to you and tell you to get out?

As the thoughts rippled through your brain, you knew Joel was more methodical than that. He wouldn’t just leave or make you leave like that… would he?

You stepped forward, forgetting about that floorboard. The creak that sang out made both you and Joel’s shadow stop. You kept still for a moment, but the shadow didn’t move either. You were suddenly thrust back into your childhood; the times you were trying to sneak down into the kitchen to grab a snack or watch a blue movie on cable television without your parents catching you.

That fucking floorboard.

The shadow moved slightly, signaling Joel was getting closer to the door, and you moved quickly to your room, no longer caring how much noise you made. As you reached to grab your door handle, you heard Joel’s door pull open.

“Darlin’?”

Your hand clasped the knob, and you closed your eyes, hearing his voice.

“Yeah, Joel?”

You were surprised how soft and calm your voice sounded; it was a stark contrast to the overwhelming, post-anger, anxiety-ridden mess that was your mind.

“Turn around and look at me, Baby.”

“M’tired, Joel… Just gonna go to bed and – “

“I said turn around.”

It wasn’t a request. His tone was gentle, but you could feel it in your bones that this was a command - a soft one, but a command none the less. Your skin prickled in a wave of goosebumps, up your body, culminating at the base of your neck.

Joel must have been able to see the effect he had on you, because the voice he used to speak almost melted the flesh from your bones.

“Darlin’, you’re gonna turn around and look at me. Now.”

You turned around and looked at him. His broad and hefty silhouette stood ominously in his doorway, backlit by the soft glow from his bedroom.

“You comin’ to bed?”, Joel said quietly, but there was an edge to his tone that made your skin once again pebble.

You narrowed your eyes and tilted your head at his question, then shook your head subtly.

“No, Joel. I figured we’d take the night an-“

“And what?”, he snapped, stepping out into the hallway and towards you.

When you didn’t answer, he took another few steps and growled in a lower tone, “And what?!”

Your eyes went wide as he got closer, and your fight or flight kicked in. Taking a step back, you hit your bedroom door, and stumbled through your words. “I… I-I thought… I figured that you’d wanna-“

“That I’d wanna what?”, he snarled, stepping close and his full belly pressed you further into your door.

“Th-that you’d… you’d wanna be… alone to-tonight…”

Joel’s hand came up and he grabbed your chin, forcing your face square to his. “And why d’you think that?”

“Because… because we fought-“

“And you think that gives you the right to not sleep in my bed?”

You were stunned; you had no answer for him, and you also hadn’t ever been this turned on by him with out him already being knuckle deep in your pussy. You swallowed hard and stared back at him. This was a feeling you couldn’t place; it felt like you were slipping under a spell that Joel was casting.

The only response you could finally give was a headshake, and Joel returned it with a curt nod and slight grin.

“Good girl.”, he purred and released your chin.

You followed Joel back into his room, and stood awkwardly as he closed the door. You’d been in his room countless times, and you’d never felt this out of place. You jumped when he put his hands on your hips from behind and pulled you back, the curve of your spine being the perfect angle for his heavy belly to fit against.

“You feel like I’m not takin’ care of you, Darlin’?”, he huskily mewled into your ear before nipping it.

“Joel, I’m sor-“

“Stop.”, he said, abruptly stopping you from finishing your apology.

“We’re past that, Darlin’. Both said things we needed to say, even if we said’em not so nicely.”

You could hear the small smile in his voice and couldn’t help the one that tugged at your mouth slightly. A whisper soft sound came out of you with a sigh. 

But then his tone dipped down, and as he rasped into your ear; one of his hands on your hip slipped to your front as he cupped your denim clad mound.

“You got my attention, baby. You feelin’ needy?”

Your mouth opened, and our flew a feather-light choked whimper. He gripped you roughly and pulled you snug against him, enough so that you could feel his thick and hard cock press against your ass.

“That why you had an attitude with me today? Needed me to fuck you? Fix that ache in your needy pussy?”

You breathed his name out as your brows furrowed and your eyes clenches closed. “Joel…” Your hand snapped on top of his over your crotch, forcing him to apply more pressure and squeeze.

“Need me to remind you that you’re mine?”, he growled before biting the crux of your neck and shoulder.

You nodded, breathing rapidly, then you let out a squeal as he shook your hand off his, then turned and shoved you against the wall. He got close and his hands made quick work in opening and shoving down your jeans. His eyes snapped up to yours and his hand dove between your legs.

“Fuck, baby…”, he sighed, eyes rolling back as he felt how wet you were. “My poor girl’s floodin’ the basement and it’s’all my fault.”

You grabbed his wrist, stabilizing yourself, and let whining pants out with each breath as his middle finger began to dip in an out of your hole. The tip of his thumb gently circled you’re aching clit.

“Yeah… I know I been neglectin’ you, baby girl… but not ‘cause of nothin’ you did… no, baby… you’re just keepin’ me too well fed and I’m fit to be tied by the time we get home… if I could fuck you the way you deserve every night…”

“Oh fuck… Joel, I need y –“

“But you always lettin’ me get away with being lazy an’watchin’ your perfect tits bounce while you fuck this fat old man…”, he rasped, his lids heavy as he watched your face contort in need. “Jesus, Darlin’, you got e’ry right to be cross with me…”

As much as you loved his voice, you needed more. Fisting his shirt, you pulled his face to yours and sucked him into a desperate and messy kiss, teeth and tongues colliding, and it was sharp and splitting. You didn’t need gentle – you needed him.

He finally pulled back, breathing heavily, same as you, and a grin tugged at his parted lips.

“Oh, Darlin’…”, he cooed, finger and thumb still working your cunt in tandem. He leaned in, ghosting his mouth over yours and asked in a voice so soft, you could have cried. “I need you to know how bad you got me, baby… tell me what I can do to prove it.”

Emboldened by his lust-blown eyes with heavy lids looking at you desperately, you put your hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle push down. A smile pulled at one side of his mouth, instantly understanding your silent request. He stepped back and groaned as he lowered himself down, joints cracking as he got on one knee, and he looked up as he pulled your jeans down further then helped you step out, one leg at a time. As he de-robed your second leg, he lifted it over his shoulder, and he scooted forward, and your eyes stayed trained on him, catching every detail, every twitch of his face as he breathed huskily and inhaled your scent. You watched his eyes flutter and roll back, like you were a buffet of fine cuisine, and he was a starved man. He pressed his nose in your crux and nudged in further, panting and swearing under his breath as he let your aroma and essence envelope him.

He took his time, as if he was making sure to catch every flavour, every note of your taste and smell, almost punishing himself for allowing you to feel unappreciated. His hands reached behind and pulled your hips forward into his face and you whimpered out a gasp as your shoulders planted against the wall behind you being the only thing keeping you upright.

“Joel…”, you breathed out, swallowing, trying to alleviate the dry mouth your open mouth breathing had caused. “Joel, please…”

He groaned into your warmth and opened his mouth, finally letting himself have a taste. His tongue licked out between your folds, starting slowly, but began to increase in intensity as he realized this was his favourite thing to savour. He grunted and panted as he lapped at you, his grip that held you so firmly to his face hurting you in the absolute best way possible.

Your fingers pulled his hair, aiding in keeping your core tightly affixed to his gaping maw, and you rocked your hip, mewling and crying out, begging him for more. Joel was in no position to deny you want you needed, not only because of the iron-clad connection currently created by both of your individual efforts, but he was eating his favourite thing. He’d denied you both for so long, he would happily suffocate between your thighs before ever taking a proper breath again if it paid the price of his sin. The noises he made as he ate and licked and devoured you sounded obscene - he sounded like a starved and feral dog, gnawing at a cut of meat tossed to him out of pity. You’re sure that if you saw his eyes, they’d be a black abyss like a shark’s as it bit down on its next meal.

The sounds he was ripping and peeling out of you were music to his ears, championing him further, pushing him harder to make you give him more of those delicious noises. He was rocking his hips in time with his mouth and tongue, letting his throbbing cock rut against the inside of his jean’s rough zipper. Between that, your taste and your fingers pulling his scalp taught with hair, he was in pure ecstasy.

He brought his hand attached to the shoulder your leg was propped up on and pushed two thick fingers into your core and began to pump them in and out - again, in time with his own hips’ rhythm. The white-hot burning coil that Joel had been slowly winding with his mouth finally sprung loose and snapped. You arched your back, silently screaming out as your body went rigid, and vaguely heard Joel growl. He continued to suck hard on your twitching and swollen clit and punched his fingers up into you as your rode out your orgasm. You heard liquid hitting the wood floor before you heard Joel let out a series of high-pitched groans.

His fingers slowed and his mouth was panting hot, quick breaths on your aching core. You looked down at him, chest heaving, to see him shakily pull his fingers from you and shove them in his mouth. Joel was a beautiful and carnal sight: breathing hard in grunts as he sucked his fingers clean. The act looked primitive, like he’d accessed his baser instincts, and he was satisfying a basic human need, a millennia in the making.

“Joel.”, you croaked, and he looked up at you with blurred eyes that slowly began to focus. He slowly pulled himself up, heaving his heavy belly. You helped him come back to his fully height and he leaned into you, pressing his forehead to yours. You could smell yourself on him as he kissed you softly before resuming your connection through foreheads.

“That was…”

“Yeah… fuck yeah… taste so good.”

“I wanna return the fav-“

Your hand cupped what you thought would be his hard cock, but stopped when you felt him softening and his jeans were warm and damp. You pulled your head back and looked at him, prompting a huffed laugh from Joel, pink flushing up his neck to his cheeks.

“You’re my favourite meal, Darlin’. You got me hooked.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.”

He pulled you away from the wall and onto the bed. He laid back and groaned as his spine relaxed. His full belly domed above him, moving gently up and down with each breath and you sat up, giving it a rub.

“You ate well tonight…”, you cooed, unbuckling his belt and opening his jean to access the mess he made.

He chuckled, supporting his head on an arm as he watched you with a grin. “Couldn’t help it… you serve food too good to not destroy myself on it, Darlin’.”

You shot him a look as you peeled back his damp and sticky underwear.

“Like I said, Darlin’…  you serve up a good meal.”

beef's glossary: The term "blue movie" is an old-fashioned slang term used to describe pornographic films, usually of the low budget variety.

TAGLIST: @theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @toxicanonymity @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @nerdieforpedro  @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@vabeachazn @clawdee @iamasaddie @tightjeansjavi@rubyfruitjungle@lilmizmoz @strang3lov3

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[satoruhour]

do you have any headcannons for gojo comforting reader when they start their period? (If i already sent this ask, ignore the first one! i couldnt remember if i asked this already or not)

a/n: hi darlaaa thank you for waiting teehee i love the gojo asks you’re giving me / i tried to keep it as general as possible even tho i only use pads! gn!reader, a little brief n*sfw at the end

i think we have all established that gojo is actually like . crazy in love with you and because of that he hates that you’re hurting so much bc of it :(

gojo likes to be at your command (even on normal days but) so he’s noting down every small thing you mention

“a tub of ice cream would sound so good rn…” or “think im running out of heat pads”

and he’s on his feet instantly. when youre sick or on your period he just declares it an off day, or at least on the first day when it’s the most painful

doesn’t really care about blood since he’s seen his fair share but he sometimes panics if your period comes during the night and he sees that the sheets are red

gojo lightly turns you over and sees that it’s coming from your centre and breathes a sigh of relief bc he’s had one too many nightmares about you getting bloodied and torn to shreds by a curse and he’s too late to save you

anyway. enough of the dark stuff, you freak out the first time you stay over and your period comes (the timing is so shit truly) bc his sheets are so expensive and you just “oh my god i just ruined my chance w this beautiful man”

but gojo doesn’t bat an eye, rather jumps up to comfort you, rubbing a soothing hand over you before you head over to the bathroom to clean up

a bit of blood got on him tho, thru cuddling and gojo makes a joke about how you’re “marking” him and you just roll your eyes and shove him away with a smile lol

he gives you everything you need to clean up most of the time and lets you do your thing

doesn’t let you change the sheets w/ him and rather makes you sit down to watch him, as with other things

changing the channel? gojo is there to do it. u want another snack from the pantry? he’s teleporting that short distance in his house because he doesn’t want you to feel that disgusting rush of blood whenever you stand up. hes so dramatic i swear

has made pms jokes before but he’s changed and he’s a better man now fr. gojo has gotten a lecture from utahime and then didnt take it seriously and then REALLY got told off by shoko after 💀

now whenever you’re moody he just shuts up and comforts you quietly <3

gojo willingly straps on those devices that mimic period cramps and then just when he wants to boast, you turn on the device to the highest setting (he told u to give him ur all) and he SCREAMS the most high pitched shriek ever it’s hilarious

tricks yuji into trying it out and poor yuji gullibly smiles even when gojo hasnt explained what it’s for and the way yuji grits his teeth omfg. you swear you hear sukuna ask gojo to never fuckin do that again

never disrespects you again

reluctantly gives you his sweet things 😭 he gets a little sad when he returns from a mission and his cheesecake is gone and you’re just sitting in front of the tv going “what?” LMFAOOO

he loves you too much however and lets you do whatever!

praises you even MORE during this time it’s kinda adorbs lol — “oh! you worked out on your period, love that for you, darling!!!!”

“my baby stood up from the couch! yaayyy!!!” he’s so annoyingly cute bye

learns so much about your favourite pad and tampon brands but also has that first time funny moment where he calls you and says “babe what size pussy you have?” and 😭😭

memorises the lengths/thickness and different uses but sometimes he still buys the wrong thing (it’s ok he’s cute enough that u forgive him)

has the biggest gasp when he finds out some brands put in chemicals to make ppl w/ vaginas bleed more so they buy more sanitary products

is fully motivated to go to the offices to protest 😭😭😭

buys SO MANY packets of sanitary products and just makes the excuse of “i’m rich“ and “doesn’t hurt to have more of it in case you run out”

you gesture incredulously, “yeah but not TWENTY PACKETS????? ARE YOU INSANE?”

your sweet boyfriend is just worried for you

gives the higher-ups shit cause they make you go on a mission while on your period and it’s so disgusting to exercise, much less exorcise and run around on a mission and tells them he’ll take it instead.

gojo doesn’t tell you he did tho, just comes home a little later than usual to find u already asleep

would love to make u soup but we’ve also established he sucks in the kitchen so … he just buys you those soup packets from the soup spoon and tells you he made it himself

you believe him once. and then the next day u catch an email notifying him more packets of soup is coming the next morning 💀

you two ended up eating soup for the next few days

tells you about his missions or days if you don’t want to say or do anything. he can talk your ear off for hours and you’re glad for that but sometimes you slip in little hums or nods and he can’t help but smile hehe

gojo rubs his hand on your tummy and womb when it hurts :( it’s endearing :((

sometimes also asks you if you’d like it on your core if it hurts, and his hand cupping your cunt feels nice at times.

also wiggles his eyebrows too much asking if you need his help to cum or something bc he heard it calms cramps LOL

suggests helping you to rub one out if you want but really it all depends on you if you want it <3

all in all a very sweet guy to be around and sometimes you have to tell him to quiet down cause he’s a little too hyper but he takes care of you extensively :3 you’re his baby !!!!

#satoruhour's mutuals #asks #sukunaphilia #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #jjk drabbles #jjk headcanons #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[thebearer]

can you please write dad!carmen and mom!reader stuck at home taking care of their two sick babies? carmy would be soo worried hate seeing his girls like that 💔

"Teddy, please don't cry, sweet girl."

"I know, Wills, I know it's nasty. Just a little bit more."

One was screaming, the other sobbing with deep, heaving breaths that made your own heart feel like it might spilt in two somehow. Strep had made its way into the Berzatto household. A mandatory forty-eight hours to make sure they both weren't contagious, an extra twenty-four tacked on so they could recuperate, and you weren't sure you were going to make it past day one.

Carmen had to stay home, of course, he wasn't risking infecting his staff or customers. You were thankful you had his help, especially at times like this.

Times when you were having to feed the girls their medicine. The pale pink liquid measured out in syringes, forced down their throats with gentle coaxes over their cries.

"I don't li-ike it!" Teddy sobbed, shoulders heaving. She was exhausted, sick, just uncomfortable all around. You knew she was. You wished you could jus magically make it better for her, take the pain instead so she'd go back to your bubbly, sweet girl.

"I know, baby." You hummed sympathetically, pressing the small sippy cup to her lips, thumb catching her angry tears streaking down her face. "But it will make you feel better."

"I want to feel better without that!" Teddy roared, crankily, throwing her arms out in pure frustration.

"That's the only way you can get better, Teddy Bear." Carmen chimed, soothing a still sobbing Willow in his arms, her face buried in his neck. She was still upset that he'd given her medicine to her. Sobbing in the most heart wrenching way; sad sobs, not like her sister's cries of frustration and anger- sobs that tore Carmen's heart right down the middle.

Somehow, you managed to get the two of them back down for a nap. They'd cried themselves to sleep, exhausted with emotion, collapsing in your's and Carmen's bed.

The two of you had took to the couch instead, falling nearly on top of each other. "Do you think we should take them back to the doctor?" Carmen muttered next to you.

"Why?"

"Because," Carmen hesitated, head lolling over to look at you. "I mean... They act like they're still in pain."

"That was their first dose, Carm. The medicine hasn't even had a chance to kick in." You countered gently.

"I know... I just- I-I was looking up their symptoms and what if it's meningitis or something? What if it was misdiagnosed and-"

"-Carmen, I swear to fuckin' God, I am blocking WebMD from your phone." You huffed lightly. "I don't know how I'm gonna do that, but I am. I'm gonna go to the Geek Squad and make them block it entirely."

"I'm being serious-"

"-So am I." You looked at him with a light glare. "Baby, they ran the tests. It came back strep. They have to like grow it and stuff to make sure, ok?" Carmen still looked unsettled. "If they wake up and don't feel better, we'll take them back."

"Fine." Carmen nodded, letting his head fall on your shoulder. "You think we should nap in there with them? Or stay in here?"

"Maybe one of us should go in there." You mutter. "Make sure Will doesn't throw up."

"True. Good point." Carmen sighed, rubbing his eyes when he sat up. "I'll go in there."

"I can go." You stand before he can, putting the blanket from the back of the couch on his lap. "You got them this morning. I got 'em, Daddy." You give him a playful, yet tired, wink. Carmen flushes, a shy smile that has your tummy pooling with warmth, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you're padding back to your bedroom.

#thebearer #carmen berzatto #dad!carmen berzatto x mom!reader #dad!carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto ​x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x female!reader #dilf!carmen berzatto #dorothea “teddy” berzatto #willow natalia berzatto #bearblahs #carmen berzatto blurb #carmy berzatto #thebearerblurbs #carmen berzatto fluff #the bear #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto fanfiction #the bear fx

[lowkeyrobin]

MCYT with an S/O who fosters kittens? :D

OH MY LORD YESYESYESHDNSKDNDN I had sm inspo w this bc I have 5 cats (cats are one of my favorite things ever I swear) and yeah dkkdkd THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST

MCYT ; you foster kittens

includes ; tommyinnit, tubbo, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, quackity, foolish gamers, karl jacobs, & slimecicle

warnings ; language, talk of harm towards animals

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

genuinely feels so bad when you have to let the cats go

like he tears up nearly every fucking time

he watches some of these poor cats go from aggressive and distant, barely able to eat because they don't trust you yet, to warm, loving and cuddley little creatures

he literally watches them grow and he gets so emotional cause like why can't you keep all of them???

he'll be off to the side when you're handing them away to a new home wiping his tears

he's more emotional about it than you

he gifts you like new cat food bowls and cat towers and stuff once they get all beaten to a pulp

if you're fostering more than like three at a time, he'll have a gang of them on his lap while he's editing, recording, or lounging around

his hands are always covered in scratches and scars because he'll fuck around and find out even after you warn him about them being feisty at first

"this one got ran over by a car and he's blind now"

"can we keep him?? :("

TUBBO

"Oh fuckin christ- y/n! the children are invading!"

they're always running in and opening the doors with their lil hands when he's streaming LMFAO

he loves that you foster cats, the fact you take time out of your life for these precious little animals that just need a chance at a better life is so heartwarming to him

if he's not streaming or sleeping, he's spending time with those chaotic fuckers

he and freddie make an orange cat that you fostered -who was deaf- become a dj

he didn't know the cat was deaf until you asked what he was doing

"I mean, for a deaf man, he's making some bangers!"

"yeah, this cat knows how to party, y/n, come join us"

he can never be around when the cats have to leave though, he just sits there with a pout because he gets too attached to them

yall got a whole room dedicated to the foster cats, don't worry, they're spoiled as all hell

RANBOO

like tubbo, it warms his heart to see you care so much about the poor babies that just need a little help readjusting and understanding that not all people are bad/you're there to help them

absolutely loves when you bring back like little feisty babies that barely know how to walk but know how to hiss

they can't help but laugh like "awe oh my god, this is so sad but it's so cute"

when I tell you all those cats are so spoiled by them

it's sweet though, he really cares about all the cats you take in too, you honestly foster them together at this point

you guys end up keeping this tuxedo cat with one eye and name it Jellyfish (as per chats vote)

the amount of fanart of you two with jellyfish 💔💔💔 so cute

jellyfish becomes the mom of all the new fosters and looks over them and shit, that way they ease into the new environment a little better

buys all the fosters outfits. there's a barbie sized closet for all the clothes

FREDDIE BADLINU

it's like there's a new cat every week considering he brings back street cats as well LMAO

these mf cats are SO SPOILED but they deserve it

he gets so attached to the disabled ones because he loves having to help them out

he loves teaching them how to eat from his hands too

it's so funny, like they'll nick his fingers and he'll be like "fuck, that tickles, Mr. Peanut!"

gets so emotional when you have to give them to better homes

like hugs and kisses them goodbye 4 times

he genuinely thinks your magic, watches those cats go from shy and trying to stay away from you to like being attached to you by the hip and all wagging their tails

he's constantly running around the house playing with them too

he loves seeing them pop up on 2 legs like meerkats when he's serving them wet food or treats LMAO

NIKI NIHACHU

she couldn't care less that the house is loaded with cat stuff and a whole room is filled with cat towers, shelves and toys for them

loves making new little puzzles/mazes for the cats with the shelves, making a little competition to see who can get to the top fastest

she names the cats because she's gonna get attached either way, but after a while they become more and more silly

like they go from Sebastian and Pixel to Tater Tot and Simon From Alvin And The Chipmunks so quickly

she learns how to make homemade cat treats as well

she also, like ranboo, gets a little barbie closet and fills it with cat outfits

some cats like the outfits and others don't, but the ones who do, good god it's like britney manson on the runway

absolute ws in that house, photoshoots for days

QUACKITY

"AH WHAT THE FUCK? Y/n! come get Jessie and Walter, they've invaded my stream!"

he genuinely names most the foster cats characters from meme shows/movies/memes in general

actually named one Badass Grandmas Meme ; also named another Hurricane Tortilla after that one vine

always taking .5s of the cats once they've accepted that he exists as well

sometimes they hop on his desk and join the stream

"Oh, look! it's Goldfish, she's the newest foster that y/n took in"

constantly taking pictures of you and the fosters throughout the stages of rehabilitation

from hissing and scratching to cuddling on the couch and lazy naps

no cat leaves without a little pair of sunglasses

he's genuinely inspired to make quackity cat merch because most of the fosters you take in LOVE clothes LMAO

FOOLISH GAMERS

literally treats these mfs as babies

you'll walk in and see him holding one of the elderly cats you're rehabiliting from a bad home whom just got rescued and he's holding this poor girl like a literal infant

she loves it though, most the cats do

the fosters love playing with his hair too, and he plays into it, always bends down to their level and wobbles his hair around for them to smack around and try to chew on

he has such a soft spot for them

if you're having one of those rare moments where you might give up on a cat, he's right there to try and help you

flea baths on kittens are always done by him, he feels so bad for each of them, meanwhile you're on cat-drying duty and giving them a lil medication to kill any remaining fleas

he's 50/50 on names at first but gives up with trying to not name them bc he gets attached anyways

"Oh, lookit! this is Evergreen, she's been chilling with us for like, 3 months I think"

he loves when they interrupt his streams bc they're so cute and explorative and curious LMAO

KARL JACOBS

he's always snuggling with them and letting them climb all over him

let's them play with his hair/dangly earrings he's wearing all the time

uses his hoodie strings to play with them too

also teaches them how to eat from his hands

he giggles with a "Oh my God, that tickles!'

he gives them all human names

the litters usually look like Tom, Sally, Joe, Micheal, Cameron, and Mellissa

loves giving them clothes too

genuinely releases a little merch line of cat clothing considering he's got a mini closet full of cat clothes for the fosters, why not share the little cuteness

he's a cat whisperer istg

CHARLIE SLIMECICLE

he's the most supportive of you fostering cats like ever

loves fucking around with them and sliding them around on the floor, if there's any long hair cats, he loops very loose bows and clips around their fur and shit

cradles them like babies to sleep

and then slips them into the cat tower or on the couch/bed etc

even covers them with a little blanket

"Oh shit, they've invaded, they're raiding! the axe weilding brothers are here!"

gives them the most dumbass names like Microwave Popcorn and Toaster Strudle

he frames pictures of every cat in the hallway once they leave

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #tommyinnit x reader #ranboo x reader #quackity x reader #badlinu x reader #tubbo x reader #freddie badlinu x reader #foolish gamers x reader #karl jacobs x reader #niki nihachu x reader #charlie slimecicle x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader

[httpsuniverse]

BABY REVEAL 📸

with PG10, MSC47, CL16, LN4, GR63, DR3, CS55

a/n: happy new year everyone! here’s my second attempt on making an ig au hehe >_<

pierregasly

liked by ynricciardo, yukitsunoda0511, f1, charles_leclerc and others

pierregasly welcome to the world, daisy anthoinette gasly 🌼

view all 1,757 comments

charles_leclerc your godfather will meet you soon, daisy! ☺️

danielricciardo assuming that YOU are the godfather 🤨 I AM A STRONG CONTENDER, MATE. ynricciardo oh hush, brother! we haven’t decided who it is yet... 🫣

yukitsunoda0511 congratulations, pierre! ❤️ missed the chance to name your baby after me... 😔

pierregasly why would i name my DAUGHTER after you?

yukitsunoda0511 hey! it’s not only a boys’ name!

ynricciardo maybe i can convince him for the next one, yuki 🤭

pierregasly there’s no way we’re naming our next child after him

fanusername i suppose, the 🐶 worked?

fan1username STFU 😭 whyd you ruin such a cute post with this comment

— next post.

mickschumacher

liked by yourusername, yourbffsusername, gina_schumacher, f1 and others

mickschumacher surprise, i’m mr new dad! 👨‍🍼 matteo schumacher is finally home 🤍

view all 1,975 comments

gina_schumacher our little bundle of joy and our favorite surprise ❤️ we’ll visit again soon, send my love to teo and y/n!

mickschumacher thanks gina! ❤️

yourusername teo misses you already, aunt gina 🥰

sebastianvettel congratulations to the new parents, mick & y/n!

yourusername thank you, seb! bring emily and matilda when you visit soon 🫶

fanusername WMICK HAS A SON????? HAT JUST HAPPPENF

fan1username i feel like we missed a WHOLE chapter bro 😭

fan2username NOT A CHAPTER BRO A WHOLE FUCKIN BOOK!! HOW TF DKD THIS HAPPEN ???

fan3username BRO I DIDNT EVEN KNOW MICK WAS DATING SOMEONE HELP

— next post.

charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, pierregasly, f1 and others

charles_leclerc carmen’s favorite bunny 🐰

view all 1,647 comments

georgerussell63 congratulations mate and yourusername! carmen and i will visit you three soon 😉

yourusername thank you georgie! it’ll be a cute meet up, carmen meets auntie carmen! 🥰

fanusername seems like you named her after carmenmmudnt?

charles_leclerc as much as y/n loves her paddock best friend, we really just chose the name that we thought of the moment we saw our daughter!

pierregasly daisy’s playmate!

fanusername PH MY GOD THEYRE GONNA BE BEST FRIENDS LIKE THEIR DADS

fan1username HELP THIS IS SO CUTE I CAN IMAGINE IT ALREADY

fan2username OOOH IMAGINE THEM PLATING AROUND THE PADDOCK 🥹🥹

— next post.

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, f1, maxfewtrell, carlossainz55 and others

landonorris luke learned how to flip off his dad aka me... 🥲

view all 2,759 comments

maxfewtrell i taught luke that when i babysat

ynfewtrell youre banned for life

maxfewtrell you cannot ban me, i’m luke’s favourite uncle

landonorris NOT ANYMORE

carlossainz55 ay dios mio... i almost had a heart attack, mate. it’s because me and isa were the last ones to babysit luke

isahernaez i got scared as well, but the rolls! 😍

ynfewtrell no worries! i know you two wouldn’t teach my baby these kind of things 🥹 and IKR!! I’M TRYING MY BEST NOT TO BITE THEM

landonorris *OUR BABY

ynfewtrell 🙄🙄

danielricciardo luke caught in 4k 📸

— next post.

georgerussell63

liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon, lilymhe, charles_leclerc, f1 and others

georgerussell63 crikey! that’s a big foot!

view all 1,864 comments

yourusername no wonder why it hurts every time he kicked me before :(

georgerussell63 well, he’s out now, love 😅 no more pain

yourusername no more pain yet he kicks me on his sleep, just like his dad 🙄

charles_leclerc george kicks on his sleep?????

yourusername he does 🙄 gabriel definitely takes it after him

georgerussell63 and gabriel takes after you for being so loud

lewishamilton congratulations to the new parents ❤️ gabriel is lucky to have you both in his life

yourusername thank you, sir lewis! 💗

lilymhe ooh i’m very excited to meet gabriel 🥺🤍

yourusername gabe is excited to meet his godparents as well 💗

alex_albon YO for real ??

yourusername you know it, albono! 😉

alex_albon i was thinking of dyeing hair green and convince lily to dye hers pink so we could be like the fairly odd parents

georgerussell63 please don’t do that

— next post.

danielricciardo

liked by landonorris, scottyjames31, michaelitaliano, f1 and others

danielricciardo jude us off to steal all the ladies’ (and gents) hearts in his uncle’s farm wedding

view all 1,499 comments

yourusername my little man 💗

danielricciardo why do you only comment on my posts when it comes to jude 😭 i’m hurt!!

yourusername 🙄🙄 don’t be such a baby

danielricciardo i’m just kidding 😘

yourbrothersig aahhh! my little ring bearer 🥹

yourusername he’s sooo excited 😍 see you later!

danielricciardo i still don’t get why you got jude to be the ring bearer, he’s only 5 months ...

yourusername IT’S CUTE, DANNY. JUST APPRECIATE IT.

landonorris bet there’ll be a lot if pictures for daniel3.jpg

yourusername he hasn’t stopped taking photos since we left for the farm 😅

fanusername #seated for the pictures

— next post.

carlossainz55

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, f1, landonorris, pierregasly and others

carlossainz55 alguien está disfrutando de su dia en la playa ⛱️ [someone is enjoying their day at the beach]

view all 1,388 comments

carlosonoros ¡disfrutar de las vacaciones! ❤️ [enjoy the vacation!]

carlossainz55 lo hare, gracias! 👍🏻❤️ [will do, thanks!]

yourusername thank you, caco! 🤍

yourbffsusername oh my lord!! the little toes!! 🥹

yourusername have you noticed that there’s a little rock(?) stuck between them 🥺

yourbffsusername OH MY GOD IM SOBBING THATS SO CUTE

yourmomsig how was sofia’s first trip to the beach? sending love 😘😘

carlossainz55 she was confused at first, but she loved it!

yourusername fia’s always confused, comes 100% from carlos 😅

carlossainz55 🙄

fanusername NOT HIS WIFE SAYING THAT LMAOOO LOVE YOU BOTH!!!

— previous post.

#pierre gasly x reader #mick schumacher x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #george russell x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #carlos sainz x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 au

[toxicbrothel]

No worries if ur not doing povs anymore buuuuut

Muehehehehe

POV

Joel’s real sweet with you. Obsessed, but in a sweet way. And for Tommy, it sure is nice getting to share you. For New Year’s, the three of you dressed up for a nice dinner in the dining room and toasted with a special bottle left behind by Bill and Frank. Tommy did the dishes while you and Joel went to sit in the living room. As Tommy approached, Joel was kneeling at your feet asking, “wanna get this big fancy dress off? Put on somethin’ more comfy?”

“Not really,” you said, making Tommy pause in his tracks. He was already getting hard thinking about what awaited, but maybe you weren’t feeling it. “It’s the only time we dress up,” you continued, and Tommy smiled to himself. You were cute. 

“Oh, darlin’. . .” Joel chuckled, then buried his face in the skirt of your dress with a groan in mock devastation. Tommy walked behind the sofa and began to massage your shoulders. “Feelin’ okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“Good,” Tommy murmured. “Look so beautiful. . .” Tommy began to caress your neck as Joel gathered the skirt of your dress and lifted it out of the way. Tommy nosed, then kissed the other side of your neck and slid a hand down. “Mm,” he softly grunted as his hand met the border where your breast spilled over the rigid bodice. God damn, Tommy wanted to knock you up so bad. You’d be so fuckin’ pretty, tits swollen as hell. Mmm. It’s too easy to imagine. Tommy heard a muffled moan, looked down, and Joel was under the skirt of the dress. He’s so crazy about you, he’d probably live under your dress if he could. 

Tommy imagined you in a different dress, one that was fitted only on the chest. Your tits, all swollen with milk, they’d barely be containable. He kept running his hand along the top hem of your dress, feeling how they overflowed. Was there a chance you were pregnant already? Surely Joel would’ve told him, but the thought made Tommy get painfully hard. 

Tommy pressed his bulge against the back of the sofa and used both hands to caress your breasts. You moaned softly and took a deep breath, making your breasts spill over even more, revealing a little nipple. God, wouldn’t you be sexy in a maternity dress, something that cinched under your swollen tits and flowed out over your round, heavy belly? Tommy felt like he might die if he never got to see you that way. 

“Uncle Tommy?” you asked

“Yeah, sugar?” he murmured. 

“It’s too tight up here,” you whined, running your own hand across your chest. 

“Ohh I know, baby.” 

Joel moaned into your pussy, head still under the skirt, and you sighed with his mouth between your legs. 

“Can you fix it?” you asked. 

God, yeah, Tommy could fix it. Still behind the sofa, he reached down to your chest and rested his head softly against yours as he began to unfasten the little hooks, one by one. And millimeter by millimeter, your breasts expanded, free of the rigid barrier. 

“Fuck,” tommy whispered. 

“What?” you asked. 

He lowered his mouth to your ear and whispered, “Just real, real pretty, baby.” 

After unfastening enough of the hooks, Tommy wedged a hand in and cupped a breast. He could have sworn your tits had grown. He’d have to get you out of this torture device so he could see it all. 

It felt like an emergency to get this thing off you. He undid a few more hooks, and palmed himself as he finished the rest one-handed, breathing heavily. When the whole corset was open, it fell away from your body, and you sighed in relief as your hands came to cradle your tits, leaning back into the sofa. 

“Ohh,” you groaned. “So much better. . .Mmm.” You looked up at him. “Thanks, Uncle Tommy.”

This is when he should have bent down and kissed you, but Tommy’s body reacted too strongly. Everything down there tightened, and he shuddered, then began to pulse right in his pants. He held a hand against his crotch and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. He felt warmth spread through his boxers when he should’ve pumped allll that cum into you. 

----

Thank you so much for reading!

Same guys:

Stuffing

Sweet little messj

#brothel sleepover 💕 #POV #POV: Uncle Tommy #700 words #Uncle!Tommy #Tommy Miller #Joel Miller x Reader x Tommy Miller #Uncle!Tommy Miller #toxicbrothel ☠️ #toxicbrothel #cw age gap #cw pregnancy mention #only in Tommy's head smh #breeding k1nk #tommy miller x reader

[jarofstyles]

idea!! Harry who wears glasses but didn’t have chance to take ‘em off before he fucks y/n and half way through she gets all giggly because they’re crooked and falling down his nose, so she takes them off for him etc etc etc……..

WAAA THIS IS SO CUTE!

Check out our Patreon!

——

“Jus’ like that… fuck.” His panted breaths made her shiver, holding on to his arms as the man above her worked her into a frenzy. It was a welcomed surprise when he had arrived home from work, pouncing on her like he couldn’t quite control himself.

The slick sound of his length filling her echoed around their living room walls, her skirt pushed up against her thighs and his work bag spilled across the floor, the pure spontaneity and heat of the moment showing true. Her legs wrapped around his waist, trying to urge him deeper inside of her needy cunt.

“Oh my god…” she whimpered, clawing at the normally pressed shirt he wore. “More, please. It feels so good.” Her slurred words only encouraged his pace, the deep thrusts making her jolt a little bit against the arm of the couch. His grunts were joined with her little weak sounds of pleasure, her eyes closed as she felt each and every thrust of his cock.

“Shit… shit.” He hissed, feeling his glasses slipping down his nose. “Baby- fuck, can y’help.” There was a slight laugh under his breath as he watched her peel her eyes open to see the view in front of her.

They were truly halfway off, the sweat he had built up and the motion of him thrusting while looking down at her doing no favors in keeping them steady. He usually took them off before sex but it was a true testament to how little he could think of anything but getting inside of his girl.

“You’re so cute.” She laughed, releasing one of his arms to gently pluck the frames from his face, blindly reaching around them to set it on the coffee table. He’d broken more than two pairs in the last 3 months and she didn’t want him to have to replace these ones too. “Couldn’t even wait to take them off, baby?” She teased, urging his face down to kiss him.

“No. Needed you so bad.” He chuckled against her lips, shifting on his knees to adjust his position. “Always need you so fuckin’ bad. Don’t care if I break them, just didn’t want t’hurt you.” His raspy voice was paired with a deeper angle, making the girl whine unexpectedly, arching her hips as their smiling, light demeanor fell back into the filthy headspace only their sex could bring them. . “Thank you for the compliment, though. Let’s get back to it. Want to feel you soak on my cock.”

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #blurbs #harry blurb #harry blurbs #harry styles one shots #harry styles fanfics #harry styles smut one shot #harry styles smut imagine

[cheonstapes]

omg i would Love to get choked out by geto’s thighs 😳😳😳

geto suguru stars in… ‘CHOKE YOU OUT’ (。-∀-)

･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡. geto suguru x reader .｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･

SMUT

letting your boyfriend, suguru, choke you out with his thighs! 🩷

pt. 1

cw; SMUT!! meanishdom!geto, thigh choking, bj, cumcumcum, NAWT PROOFREAD!

400+ words

@cheonstapes : i was thinking abt this for so long🥲 thank you for your request my love!🩷 i hope you enjoy!!

“thought you said not a chance, babe?”

you truly, really and truly, did not expect this day to come. your boyfriend’s thighs, made of pure muscle, clamping down on the back of your head — pinning your face against his cock. his pinkish tip was oozing out pre, sticking to your flushed cheeks as he guides it down to your lips. “look at you,” cooing down at you like you’re some kid, spreading his cum over your lips like gloss “knew it wouldn’t take much to convince you, baby — you’re loving this, aren’t you?”

unfortunately for you, you were. more than you’d like to admit. giving suguru the satisfaction of knowing how absolutely turned on you were was a worser fate than death, you thought — mentally rolling your eyes at the thought of hearing him teasing you endlessly for weeks upon weeks. “shut up and let me suck you off, ‘guru.” he was hard as fuck, but playing with you was so much more fun.

a devilish grin grew on his face, shallowly thrusting his tip past your pretty lips — his salty cum collecting on your tongue. “pucker your lips for me, sweetheart— yeah…justttt like that, good girl.” he wasn’t gonna fuck your throat, at least not now. he let the first few inches of his cock get soaked in your saliva, lightly squeezing at his heavy balls as his legs tighten around your neck. “shit, babe…’s almost as tight as your cunt.”

suguru’s chest was sheened with sweat beneath his wife-beater, his hips subtly grinding against your face — pushing his cock deeper into your throat. your nose was presses against the coarse hairs at his base. your head was spinning, the dual sensation of being choked by his delicious thighs and his cock pounding the shit out of your poor throat. the hands at your thighs clawed at his exposed legs — drawing red, scratchy lines on his skin.

your eyes pricked with tears, the sound of you gagging around him picking up as his hips increased their speed — a large hand threading through your hair to grip your scalp firmly, pushing himself as deep as he could possibly go. “fuck, fuck, fuck! gonna fill this pretty fuckin’ mouth!” suguru held you in place with his legs, grinding against your lips as his cum oozed out of your spent mouth. it felt like it was going on forever, spurts of it dripping out of your nose.

unhooking his legs, he placed his arms under yours — placing you on his chest as he kissed you softly, licking his cum off of your face. “god, sugu’ that’s so nasty!” you think he cared? he just loved touching and tasting you, his own cum ain’t gonna stop nothing. “what? you had a lil’ something on your face, baby.”

as much as you loathe admitting it, you definitely wanna do that again.

#-ill catch all the diseases in the world so there wont be no more diseases #its not letting me add my funny little messages at the end😡 #cheonstapes #cheonsshowreals 🤍 #jjk masterlist #jjk x reader #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru smut #geto smut #geto suguru #jjk smut #geto suguru x you #suguru geto smut

[tteokdoroki]

— thirst tweets + katsuki bakugou.

hey so your husband bakugou does buzzfeeds thirst tweet interview and uncovers something hilarious from your old fan account. kinda crack? mostly fluff and a little suggestive !! hence MDNI 18+.

like say he’s on some promotional tour abroad, he’s bee invited to some fashion week or something and they decide to invite him on since fans have been hounding for katsuki do it it for years— so he finally agrees to do it.

it’s early morning when they film, the earliest they could get him in to shoot the video before whatever other promos he has to do on his schedule so katsuki is only half awake and dressed as comfortably as can be. his hair sticks to his forehead, grey hoodie pulled over his head and a coffee in one hand even though he hates the taste but he wants some fucking energy for hell his fans want him to endure.

“let’s get this fuckin’ thing over with shall we?” bakugou grunts as the camera starts rolling, taking a long exaggerated sip of his drink as if to mentally prepare. “the name’s katsuki bakugou ‘n i’m reading your thirst tweets. whores— do i get fuckin’ therapy after this?”

the tweets mostly start off tame, a few comments about how cute bakugou is when he laughs, how his admirers would give up their whole lives for him. the typical stuff in which the pro hero only responds with. “lame. where’s the good shit, i wanna see how nasty you lot can be.” he laughs, ruby eyes drifting over more of the screenshots production had lined him up with. “pro heroes don’t deserve to be sexualised but i want you all to know i’d let pro hero dynamight with a mullet tear my shit up.” he reads the next one with a smirk, pulling back his hood to toy with his growing blonde locks. “should i be growin’ my shit back?”

from here, things start to get progressively worse— bakugou putting the phone down from time to time so he can through his head back in deep laughter, mumbling things like ‘this is so fucked up!’ ‘nah, these guys are fuckin’ nasty.’ ‘can somebody get this on a t-shirt?’ and he’s absolutely having the time of his life filming and reading out his fans’ dirty tweets.

“i’d like to thank whatever god let me be alive at the same time as katsuki bakugou,” he repeats the next tweet out loud, spreading his thighs to sit back in his seat. “i’m your god. ya should be thankin’ me.” the next tweet makes his brows furrow. “i would plaster my bussy on the sidewalk for dynamight— what’s a bussy?”

a few more roll by and the video is almost over but katsuki bakugou damn near loses his mind at the grande finale. “‘if i ever get the chance, i’m gonna make sure that katsuki bakugou, pro hero, aged twenty three, gets the most toe curling, life threatening heart stopping head and then I’ll let him sit on my face with that fat ass of his until i can no longer breathe.” bakugou’s face turns bright red, a snort tearing though his throat as he reads the handle ‘bakugouscumdumpster01’ and then the name of the handler too. “holy fuckin’ shit…where did you guys find this? do you know who this is? this is my wife’s account.”

he would recognise your name anywhere, the way you type and text is still the same as it was five years ago before he met you and gave you the bakugou name. the tweets on the rest of your account are funny, lusting after other pro heroes but most are dedicated to your husband katsuki. the blonde knows the editors will have to cut all of this footage out later but he can’t help but scroll through your tweets and replies under his old tweets from earlier on in his hero career— mentions of how proud you are of him, how much you love him.

and five years later nothing has really changed. you still adore him all the same.

“‘m gonna call her, just you wait. this’ll make good fuckin’ television.” katsuki wonders how much of his cursing they’ll have to censor out when it comes down to editing as he taps your number, smiling when your face flashes up during the dial tone until you pick up.

“hi baby, aren’t you shooting right now?”

your voice fills his heart with joy, beating loud in his chest he’s afraid the cameras might pick up the sound. “i am baby, missed ya though.” there’s a smile on that heart, big and proud when you giggle through the phone and tell him you missed him too— asking him what he needs, if he’s okay, caring about him tenderly in your special way. he hates to ruin it— by reading out the most dirty, disgusting thing you’ve ever said. katsuki repeats your tweet word for word, listening to how you go silent the more he talks. “so does this coupon expire…or?”

you whine, and bakugou knows if you were you would be slapping his chest right now even though you both know he can’t feel it through his big tits (you’ve also tweeted this). “kats! t-that was before i met you!” you squeal, voice trembling with embarrassment— sending his heart into overdrive. you’re so sweet you could give him a toothache. “ohmygod, it’s gonna be in the video. i���m gonna scream, i’m gonna—“

“you sure you’ll be able to do that while yer givin’ me life threatenin’ head, baby?” dynamight rasps, angling the phone at the camera. they might have to cut this too, but he doesn’t care, still being able to fluster his wife is his favourite thing. “c’mon sweets, for the camera?”

you’re quiet for a moment, probably still sulking that your old thirsts for your husband are being uncovered for his amusement. “i’ll give you more than just life-threatening head, kats. just wait until you get home.” you purr through the speaker, voice dropping an octave and katsuki can practically see the way you would look up at him, through your lashes, lips between your teeth. god, he could die. “love you honey.”

and with that, you end the call— the tone ringing out through the set, leaving a flustered bakugou in your wake in front of bright lights and rolling cameras. “i think that’s a wrap?” one of the producers says, snapping dynamight from his thirsty, thirsty thoughts.

“uh…yeah, ‘m katsuki bakugou ‘n this has been reading your thirst tweets.” bakugou grunts bashfully, with a soft smirk on his face, only imagining what nasty acts you’re going to do when he’s done with promotions.

#tteokdoroki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #bakugou drabble #bakugou imagine #bnha fluff #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #🗑. aali’s chatroom

[bruciemilf]

Hii!

I was wondering if you had any n.sfw type of headcanons for Harvey vs Two Face when they're being intimate? 🤭

Because of the Jason Dent AU fic, part of me thinks TwoFace might be a pillow princess for Matches 😅

I mean, I try to assume couples are versatile but was also curious if you felt either would be more or less likely to enjoy something over the other. Or if they'd be pretty much the same in their wants/desires. Hope this makes sense!

Really like your blog. Your post with Batfam Twitter about Harvey breaking out of Arkham to take Bruce out on dates is part of what got me into them 😍🥹

HOOOO. NSFW ahead!!! Minors don’t interact, please and thank you!!

—

I’m so goddam thirsty for this man. No, — it’s unhealthy. I’m like a feral Resident Evil nightmare that escaped confinement and I’m in need of emergency euthanasia.

In my heart I can’t imagine Harvey or TF bottoming. But it also really depends on!! I could maybe see Harvey, whimpering like a goddam mess, Bruce bounces on his dick like a fucking horny rabbit, and TF snarling, “Fuckin’ wimp.” (He loves it)

One thing’s for sure thought; These mfs are So Nasty.

Two-Face is big on degradation; Bruce’s pleasure is extremely important for him, and while he prioritizes his baby doll getting the best treatment possible, you can catch him shoving Batman on his knees anytime, anywhere.

“C’mon, sweet boy. Use that smart ass mouth for something useful. “

And Bruce can’t ever say no 😔 He has them memorized down to the veins

Also you bet Harvey’s hung as hell. 10 inches. Bruce has higher chances of ending up in the ER after fucking than fighting.

DADDY KINK DADDY KINK DADDY KINK DADDY KINK DADDY KINK DADDY KINK DADDY-

I just know for a fact Two-Face always has Bruce on his lap when he’s playing poker.

Either when Bruce is disguised, or just normal. Besides, Brucie Wayne is basically Harvey’s glorified blow up doll. So what if he’s around the room while talking essential business? So what if he’s witness to it?

Black Mask makes that comment exactly once and Harvey paints his brass knuckles red <333 “Tsk. Fucker got blood on my watch.”

God help you if Bruce wears red lipstick around this bastard. They’ll make out so messily. Everywhere. At any time. Cause Harvey’s not stopping until Bruce begs him to let him breathe.

SCAR WORSHIP.

MUTUAL

SCAR WORSHIP

Harvey will call Bruce princes while fucking him doggy style, his belt tightly snaked around his neck. He makes the prettiest noises, punched out moans and tiny little gasps. “Ah, heh— you came? Again? You’re making a mess, sweetheart.”

I genuinely do think rough sex is their go to, but like. Loving rough sex? Nevertheless, when one or both have an off day, when Gotham’s nightshade hand punches just a little too hard, they find sanctuary in each other’s softness.

Sometimes Bruce gets fucked with Harvey between his legs, spread like a last meal on his WE office, his smaller hands sinking in his man’s broad shoulders. And he’ll say nothing except his name, like a mantra.

“Harvey. I love you.”

“I know.”

“Bastard,” Bruce laughs rarely, and when he does, it feels like a prize, “Say it back. Both of you.”

“Tch. Brat. We love you. Happy?”

“Always.”

#ANYWAY THEM #bruharvey #nsft #1 8 0 - HORNYHOURS #bruce wayne #dc #dc comics #harvey dent #two face #dc two face #twobats #batman #bottom bruce wayne #text #text post #asks

[jamneuromain]

Grind Me Down

Alpha!Ari Levinson x Omega!Reader (You)

Summary: You're in your heat, but Ari has something else in mind.

Warning: Smut, grinding, overstimulation, Omegaverse

“Ari -” You let out a sound in between moan and whimper, breathing heavily, “hurts – I can’t - ”

Ari has an arm behind his head. Hearing your plead, he merely raised his eyebrows as if doubting whether you are telling the truth, pulling his arm out so he could hold your waist with both hands, “but baby, you’re the one saying you wanted me.” He suggestively places his large palm on your thigh and squeezes, flashing his wolfish grin, “and you gotta work for it.”

You have been riding him for minutes. Hours. Too long for you to take a look at a watch or a clock.

Not on his cock. God no.

You’d feel much better if you are riding his cock instead of whatever you are doing now.

You merely whimpered “want you, Ari” at the beginning of your heat, and he had sprawl over your carefully built nest, and laid down comfortably, for you to take what you want.

Your pussy clenches, and clenches again. Reminding you the fact that you are grinding on his abs.

The happy trail tickles your sensitive bundle of nerves. Even though they are soaking wet with your juices. He never shaves himself clean, soft yet rigid hair always has been both pleasure and pain when he touches you intimately. When he knows his rough beard feels like torture to your oversensitive pussy and rubs his cheek on your most delicate pedals.

You shiver at the thought. You have grinded both his thighs, cummed on both of his thighs, and you feel another orgasm pending.

You let out a burning breath, gradually slowing yourself down, because you know, from your throbbing pussy, that this will hurt.

“Tut tut tut.” The large hand moves to your pelvis, sticking his thumb between your wetness and his abs. Ari mutters as he feels your muscles tightening and another moan coaxed out of your red swollen lips, “there’s no backing down, darling.” He spares a glimpse at you, sweaty and desperate. Your body glowing pink, your heat burning, which is only a bit too pity that it hasn’t triggered his rut yet.

He thought might as well allow your pheromones to cover every inch of his body to speed up the process. What could have been a better way when he came up with the idea to let you grind on him?

The beast in his heart rumbles, getting more angsty by the minute.

Ari pushes his hair back, laying back once more on the pillow, pressing the rough pad of his thumb on your clit, “Cum for me, darling. Cum for your alpha, little one.”

The alpha voice.

You have to cum for your alpha.

His blue eyes wide blown, as he tugs on your clit and your whole body trembles. Your back arches. And you claw on to his arm and his chest, leaving little rosy crescents of your nail mark.

“…so fucking sexy baby,” Ari pulls you down for a kiss, devouring you, biting you, kissing you, “so pretty, fuckin’ mine. All mine.”

“Yours, Ari.” You whisper, licking your lips as his beard burn leaves another imprint, “want you, want your cock,” you whimper, as you feel like your waist could never support your body to sit up every again, “please please please Ari. Please, Alpha.”

Ari snakes an arm behind your back.

It does tempt him, one briefest of moments, to take control and fuck you until you are impaled to his knot and belly full with his seed. But you are too pretty. Too precious. Too delicate.

He just couldn’t let this chance slip away from his hand.

“You’re a good little omega, yeah?” His canines sink into your skin. Into your flesh. Drawing blood. Pure pain erupts from your neck. Having you cry out. Immobile too. Thanks to his arm pinning you down.

Your body burns hotter as his scent hits you like a bus. His scent travelling down your veins as he strengthens your mark. His voice ghosting your ear.

You want your alpha so bad. You want him to mount you. To take you. To have his way with you. You want to be marked over and over again, even if it hurts.

“My good little omega.”

You watch him with hooded eyes, you hear him speak praises, you smell him in you.

“Good little omega takes orders, right?” He positions you on his arm. His veiny arm. Your pussy throbs when the sensitive parts touch him. “Your alpha wants you to cum on both of his arms.” Ari lays the other arm back as a pillow to support his head, not helping you in the slightest, as the beast in his heart rattles the cage, “better get started.”

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson smut #ari levinson #ari levinson fanfiction #the red sea diving resort

[crystalli-69]

i have a silly little headcanon (HEAD CANON) that is just very silly in terms of canon, specially with greek demigods.

SO!

As all may know, demigods can go now to camp Jupiter to well- live- , anyways, well, I don't like that. Being frankly (see what i did there?) i just don't like the whole Percy and Annabeth in New Rome? Like i get it, finally a "safe place" for them, to hopefully live and stuff but... Camp Half Blood was such an important place in both their lives, specially Annabeth's. Also, i haven't read ToA or Chalice of the Gods, yet.

But to me it just seems... unnatural? i feel like Annabeth after graduating she would just come back home. Cuz that's her home. And Percy would do it too, he's closer to Estelle and his parents, and his family at camp (Chiron, I'm talking to you). And New Rome is great, i loved it from the second i read it on SoN. But i feel like Camp Half Blood needs another chance.

So in my head (other than forgetting half the canon) there is a safe place for Greek demigods nearby camp, something like New Rome for example, something like Athens for the name, New Athens if you will.

This city/town was created by older civilizations of half-bloods, and a secret to the little ones, and if you got older enough, the city will somehow call out to you. Or something, I'm not sure.

The point is, the city isn't that big or even protected yet, but after Annie and Percy graduated, they help around and over the months it goes from over a population of 100/200 to a over 600 people living in this new safe place that demigods can call home without going to far away from camp.

They somehow get a bigger University, more houses, shops, places to go around and learn what it feels to live without looking behind your back every two seconds.

Like, Leo and Annabeth will go absolutely batshit crazy, Silena and Charlie (THEY'RE ALIVE YOUR HONOR) finally graduating together, JASON (very much alive, thank you spoilers) going back and forth between New Rome and the town's University, Calypso (not with Leo) studying and learning about new things, Thalia is somehow there studying something chaotic and everyone being free. Hazel and Frank being part time students at both universities alike since they're Preators, but fuck that too, they get to experience life with their friends.

I just need my little babies (grown 16/17 year olds like me) to be in peace

also, Percy gets a Trident, Annabeth can fuckin move things with her mind, Hazel can do magic (Nico too) Frank can shapeshift more easily, Leo controls his fire more, Piper (MY QUEEN) can sing like a badass and her powers just keep getting stronger and stronger! Reyna (my dear girl) visits alot and her burdens disappear.

#pjo headcanon #percy jackson #percy jackson series #new rome #camp half blood #camp jupiter #the lost hero #hazel levesque #frank zhang #leo valdez #jason grace #piper mclean #annabeth chase #reyna avila ramirez arellano #thalia grace #demigods #grover underwood #let them live in peace

[mrprettywhenhecries]

❝the best❞ [g.t]

Gator Tillman ✘ Win Lewis (OC)

⇾ w.c. 708 words ⇾ tags/warning(s). canon x oc pairing, f!oc, post canon, pregnancy ⇾ a/n. I was missing Gator and Win and wanted to write something short and fluffy for them, inspired by pregnant Win thoughts. 💚

[ masterlist • win bio ]

“Gator, that you?” Win called from the couch when she heard the back door open.

“Yeah, I got the stuff you wanted,” he called back, kicking the door shut behind him as he plopped the grocery bags on the kitchen counter.

“Oh thank God!” Win exclaimed, groaning.  “Can you bring some of it out here?  I’m starving!”

Gator huffed a laugh and grabbed the jar of pickles and the mustard, as well as two bottles of Mtn Dew before heading out to the living room.  

“Ya know, this isn’t as weird as some of the shit I’ve heard of pregnant women eatin’,” he said, offering her the drink as he sat down next to her, twisting the cap off the pickle jar.

Win threw him a wry look before pulling a pickle free and taking a bite, moaning softly as she chewed and Gator watched with a soft smile.

“What?” Win chuckled when she noticed him watching her, carefully squirting some mustard on the pickle before taking another bite.

“Nothin’.  You’re just pretty damn adorable, is all.”

“Shut up, no I’m not,” Win huffed halfheartedly, though her heart fluttered at his compliment and the way he watched her.

“Yeah, you are,” Gator insisted, stealing one of her pickles.  “Can’t even begin to tell you how attractive you are right now,” he murmured around his mouthful of food, licking his fingers clean before taking a swig of pop to wash it down.  “You’re so fuckin’ hot, I can’t stand it,” he said with a feisty grin.

Win rolled her eyes.  “I’m huge, how is this attractive?” she asked, gesturing to her swollen belly.

Gator fixed her with a level stare, his large hand sliding over her baby bump, resting atop it gently.  “Babe, you’re fuckin’ glowin’—“ Gator’s grin grew, turning into a smirk— “plus your tits got bigger.”

“Gator—!” she groaned and his grin disappeared, his expression turning somber.  

“You’re carryin’ my child, how could anything be more attractive?” he murmured, his dark eyes flicking up to hers, making her melt.

“You’re such a charmer, Gator Tillman,” she whispered, caressing his stubbled cheek, smiling as he leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“What do you think we should name it?” Win asked, laying her hand atop his on her stomach.  

“We don’t even know what it’ll be yet,” he replied, his grin returning and Win shrugged.

“Maybe if it’s a boy we could name him after his dad,” she mused softly, chancing a look at Gator, hoping she hadn’t upset him at the genuine suggestion.

Gator’s grin faltered for a moment, his gaze flicking downward as he frowned, and Win quickly opened her mouth to apologize for the suggestion when he spoke, his gaze fixed on her belly.

“Do you think I’ll make a good father?”

Win’s heart clenched at the uncertainty in his voice and she squeezed his hand, lifting it to her lips.

“The best,” she answered without hesitation, her gaze unwavering as he met it, hope flickering in his hazel eyes.

“How do you know?” he asked, wanting to believe her.

“Because you are not your father,” she whispered.  “Because you’re a good man, Gator.  A better man than he ever was,” she insisted.  “And I know you’d do anything for me and for our baby.  Plus, you’re not alone,” she added, smiling warmly at him, her affection spilling over, sending tears gathering in her eyes, catching in her lashes. "We'll figure this all out together."

Gator nodded, too choked up to respond and not wanting to sound like a sissy when suddenly his eyes widened and he gaped at Win’s belly. 

“It kicked!” he gasped, breaking into a awe filled smile.  “I haven’t felt it yet,” he marveled, leaning in closer to press his lips tenderly to her stomach. 

“Can ya hear me, little one?” he breathed. “This is your daddy.  Your mom and I can’t wait ta meet ya.  You’re gunna be the happiest damn baby ever,” he chuckled, his eyes meeting Win’s.

“Y’know, maybe Gator might be a good name, after all," he murmured hesitantly.

Win beamed at him, her tears finally spilling over and she pulled him close, stealing a teary kiss.

“The best name,” she agreed.

⇾ taglist. @super-unpredictable98 @heartbreak-sandwich @babydollbaron @b1tchywheeler @girlwiththerubyslippers

#gator tillman x oc #gator tillman #gator tillman fluff #fargo #fargo s5 #fargo fx #oc: win lewis #fic: don't waste your time on me #joz.fic #otp: wingator

[night-daily]

Art is abstract | Robby Keene x reader

summary: Robby try (and fails) to bake brownies.

warnings: none.

a/n: not proof reading, sorry!

Living alone (well, if you count your mom staying the night with her boyfriends and leaving in the morning, then almost alone) made Robby learn things by himself, like cooking.

But that doesn't mean he was an expert, and oh boy, he wished he was skilled in the kitchen. Why was so hard to bake some brownies with a heart shape? He has been baking since morning and all he got until now was some fucking brownies with a shit shape.

He turned to see the time on his phone, you'll be at his house in 30 min and he still needed to take a shower, rushing to the bathroom he left the brownies on the table of the kitchen.

You were standing at the door of your boyfriend's house, you arrived earlier but you couldn't help it, you were so excited to see Robby's face when he opened the gift you bought him. Knocking at his door, you patiently waited for him.

The door was finally opened by a Robby fully dressed but with soaking hair and with a towel around his neck, this must be heaven. Standing there just admiring his figure you didn't hear anything he said.

“Hey baby, you okay?” He sounded concerned but the teasing smile on his face told you he knew the effect he had on you.

“I hope you don't open the door looking like this to anyone” Your smile matched his. “Only you” he dragged you inside the house by your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Hi” a kiss on his nose and he could feel the stress from before leaving his body. “Hi” He was about to take your hand when he saw it, you were carrying a gift bag.

Robby quickly looked at you and before he could say anything, you were faster than him. “I know, i know, we said no gifts, just movies and pizza, but you can't blame me, in fact, blame yourself!” Robby was more confused and once again, you spoke before him, but this time handing him the bag, telling him to open it. “You looked like a sad puppy the whole last week and I couldn't handle it, all I could think was, what can I do to make him happy again? And then I saw it at the store, and well, i think it suits you very well” at this point you were rambling, feeling nervous, what if he doesn't like it? what if he hated it? what if he—

“I fuckin love it” His voice made your heart flutters, the butterflies dancing in your stomach. “You know i have never received a lot of gifts in my life, but this? It's definitely my favorite, god, you're my favorite person in this entire world, thank you babe, for real” He left the skateboard on the floor carefully, and you were crushed between his arms and body, it felt nice, it felt perfect.

But also you felt a smell in the air, something sweet, like brownies!

“Please tell me that smell is because you brought brownies” You separated your face from his chest, but you were still in his arms. “What a way to ruin the moment, huh” He looked down at you smiling, but his face quickly changed at the mention of the brownies, fuck, fuck, fuck. “I actually baked them but—” You squired yourself from his grip and ran to the kitchen, giggling like a child, Robby running after you, trying to stop you to see the shit brownies but it was too late, you had them in your hands and a beautiful smile on your face.

“As I was saying, I tried to bake them in heart shape, but as you can see, it didn't turn out that way” His eyes glued to the floor, too embarrassed to look at you “I mean, it's not that bad” He scoffed, obviously you were lying, “Okay, okay, it's not that pretty but you know, art is abstract” You stretched your arm to him, brownie in hand, an invitation to eat it together.

“At least they taste go—” faces scrunched up at the moment you two ate a bite from the brownies “Honey, did you by any chance used baking soda instead of baking powder?”

“What's the difference?” And he looked so serious while asking.

Oh boy.

#robby keene fanfic #robby keene x reader #robby keene #cobra kai #robby keene fic #valentine's day with night_daily #robby keene x you #robby keene x y/n

[hangmanbrainrot]

Heyo! I’d like to make a request if that’s alright. I want to know how hangman would react to his pregnant wife enjoy sleeping on her pregnancy pillow more than in his arms. Because we can all tell his major love language would be physical touch ❤️ Thank you❤️

hopefully i did your request justice, anon! <3 i'll be labeling pregnancy as a warning in the tags, as well as in the warnings below, since i know that can be triggering for some.

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, reader has children, established relationship, marriage, swearing, sierra has decided jake's middle name is michael.

notes: none!

word count: 680

pairing: jake seresin x afab!reader

the pillow thief

The first time Jake saw the godforsaken pillow was when it arrived on your doorstep from Amazon. See, such a large box naturally drew his attention, and he’d just about dragged it in the house when you came waddling down the stairs — you and the children you’d been growing for 24 weeks.

“Oh my god, it's here!” You'd said, and he'd been cursing the damn thing ever since. The problem wasn't with the pillow itself, but rather the fact that you'd rather cuddle it than your husband some nights. 

Now, six weeks later, Jake was more than a little grouchy and okay, yeah, he was pouting, but he was tired of not being able to hold you close at night. Every night, you'd beat him up to your bedroom so you were already curled up with the thing and half snoring before he even had a chance to make a move. But tonight, when you'd gotten up to go to the bathroom — and declined his many offers to help — he saw his window of opportunity. In the time you were gone, he'd managed to stuff the grey polyester under your king sized bed before you'd even turned on the faucet to wash your hands.

The man could barely hide his self-satisfied grin when you re-emerged, but he definitely hadn’t prepared for the absolute panic on your face.

“Oh no,” you’d said softly. Were your eyes welling up? “Not again.” 

“Baby?” Jake tested, brows knitted together in confusion. “Baby, what’s going on?” 

“Lulu stole my pillow, again!” you practically wailed in response, tears already dribbling down your cheeks. “Jakey, you didn’t see her? The pillow thief. I’m gonna start closing our bedroom door at night, I can’t believe this. She’s probably already chewing on it and I’m gonna have to order another one.”

By the time you’d finished speaking, you were verging into the territory of hysterical, so Jake quickly decided the jig was up. 

“Wait, wait, wait, before you exile our poor sweet girl…” He released a heavy sigh, then bent to slide his hand under the bed. He couldn’t let your dog take the fall for his theft; his conscience would never let him live it down. As soon as you realized what was going on, you gasped aloud. 

“Jacob Michael Seresin!”

He’d just settled the pillow back on the bed when he glanced up to catch sight of the downright fury in your gaze. He knew you loved him, otherwise he couldn’t have convinced you to marry him and have not one, but three children with him. (The twins were a surprise, nobody on either side of either of your families had produced any. Until now.) But Jake was also fairly certain you would love to exact some sweet revenge on him right about now. He had to clean this up, and fast.

“Okay, let me explain. I just wanted…”

“This had better be a good fuckin’ explanation, Jake.”

To say he was on thin ice was putting it lightly. No, right now, he was out in the middle of a frozen lake and cracks were appearing more rapidly by the minute.

“I wasn’t going to hide it from you forever. I just… Um, maybe, sort of wanted you to, y'know, hold me instead. Pretend I'm the pillow.”

For the first time in the history of your entire relationship, Jake had absolutely no idea what your expression meant. It was fucking terrifying. As you crept closer to him, Jake found himself sliding back further on your mattress to be closer to the headboard. You were downright vicious with a pillow when you needed to be, and he was worried he’d provoked you just enough this evening.

But, instead, you threw your arms around him as tightly as you could with your still-growing children between you. The sigh you released was downright dreamy when you spoke, but the contrast between your words and the sound had Jake’s head spinning. “Oh, honey. If you try something like this again, you’ll be sleeping on the couch until the twins are toddlers.”

#sierra answers 💌 #anonymous #jake seresin x reader #pregnancy tw #tw pregnancy