Black Panther Ghost With A Cat Variant Reader

Well, turns out the pain I'm in isn't normal...

I'm going into theater today. So they can check if it is what we think it is.

Cant stop thinking about the COD men interaction with a K-9 unit reader who copies their K-9 partners noises.

Everything from growling with the hound to whining or even having dog like mannerisms you know?

<first part is done it!!!!>

Does anyone ever start a very old fic (currently reading one 5 ish years old), and you wonder if the writing gets better?

Update, it got so much fucking better.

The author is only 15 when they started. How is it that good by the end????!!

Shit deserves a hard corver print.

Grabs you. I have a thought I’d like to share…

Reader being Price’s little guard dog.,, yk he’s always around, looking after him, almost growling at people if they get too close to him or say something he considers rude. Price just calling him his mutt ,and he knows reader will do whatever for him so he just drags him around and will use reader whenever he wants. Reader will absolutely demolish him if needed, desperate like a dog to have Price under him 🫡 I needed to let this out

Thinking about being Price’s guard dog and accidentally hurting him during a mission. Again, wasn’t on purpose. He had just been at the wrong place at the wrong time, with your claws accidentally grazing his sides that had left him out of commission for a while.

Price forgave you as soon as it had happened. He knew that having a guard dog by his side came with consequences but you couldn’t forgive yourself, had silently promised yourself to stay away from the older man (at least til his injuries healed or til the guilt stopped eating away at you. )

Price hadn’t noticed it at first, too busy with recovering from his injuries. But once he had fully healed up, he noticed you being distant especially when he tried to initiate something.

You’d usually make up some excuse or even pretend to fall asleep.

Price hadn’t thought much about it. It’s not like you were in a relationship with him anyway. If you didn’t want to sleep with him then that’s okay.He’ll just wait for you to be the one to approach him first.

But days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and Price had started to wonder if you even had a deal at all.

If you wanted out of this , he rather you tell him than leave him hanging like this.

So Price stalked you to your room, cornered you up against the wall and confronted you about the issue.

You had played dumb with him, pretended not to know what he was talking about but Price knows you like the back of his hand, knows that something is nagging at you. What kind of owner would he be if he didn’t know when his pet was struggling with something?

So instead of making you use your words, he had your actions speak for you, tentatively locking his his lips with yours before stripping the clothes off of you.

You followed his lead without complaints, slowly but surely tumbling into the sheets with him and for a split second Price thinks that this issue must’ve been all in his head.

All friends with benefits sure must have their periods of time where they don’t do anything?

It wasn’t until you were a couple of rounds in when Price had noticed something.

You’d been taking him apart with your fingers and mouth, fucking him into the mattress til his mind went numb and his body felt overly sensitive to your touch.

But you didn’t come once, matter of fact you hadn’t begged and pleaded like you usually do. Price had founded it a bit strange but you must’ve been too engrossed with his pleasure to think about yourself.

But that won’t do.

Good behavior like this deserves a treat so with the last bit of strength in his body he straddles your waist, pushes your cockhead past his puckered rim, and sets a steady pace with his hips.

It doesn’t take much before he notices you inching closer to your release and Price feels a sense of pride bubbling in the pit of his stomach as three words slips past his lips.

“Cum- ah cum for me” Price says between labored breathes while practically bouncing on your lenght.

“Cant- I cant sir” you slur out head shaking side to side.”please - please no” you continue to speak , mind delirious as ever but desperately trying your hardest to hold off from cumming”don’t don’t - deserve it,”

And in that moment a light bubble goes off in his head…the reason as to why you’ve been distant, …the way you’ve been acting ever since his injury,…

You were punishing yourself and trying to make up for hurting him.

“Bloody hell… “ Price squeaks out “Do you ah- do you think I care about that boy? I don’t give a damn just cum for me” he croaks out, now desperately holding off on his own orgasm.

“I cant - “

“You ah-you can and you will”

Ghost likes biters I do make the rules ->

ghost who retraces every bite mark left on his skin once you've finished using him like a chew toy for the time being. after being constantly hidden and deprived of any and all sunlight, he's as pale as snow white. you've always managed to ruin this somehow, leaving a bloody mess on his arm alone. your teeth soften his flesh, the color of sanguine shifting to a pale pink the further away from the wound. it's almost as if you've painted his skin in your own little (blood parasite) way. it hurts too, when pressed down too hard it's almost like your canines are back inside him. he'll never admit it through words, but he'll gladly take your dog antics over an injury from his work. craves it even, your ownership over him shown through such a feral manner.

request:

reader jokingly puts a bell on miguel o’hara since he approaches so quietly he tends to startle you and the other spiders. he tolerates it because the humor improves work morale

little did he know that the bell will be jingling all night as you fuck him mercilessly

𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗦𝗜𝗟𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗟

✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 male reader x miguel o'hara

✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 top!amab! reader, bottom! miguel, public blowjob, anal sex, saliva used as a lubricant, consensual suffocation, breath play, implied reader being a spider. minors dni.

✧ 𝖠/𝖭 my archive of editable images of miguel is over, accept this random edit then. I used a lot of words that I don't know very well, so please let me know if I've used something wrong

It was hard to hear anything but the unbearable jingling of the silver bell reverberating through his sensitive hearing; the little ball of iron inside the round shape swayed with fairy clinks where it was attached to the leather strap that tightened around his neck. A joke, had been how Miguel interpreted the unusual gift you said laughing that it was to know when he approached. A lame joke, but still, he let you close the noisy choker around his neck and accepted the kiss you pressed against his lips pursed in annoyance.

During the day, when the spiders shared laughter and a fun that Miguel didn't understand at the gift you gave him, Miguel hadn't paid attention to how the choker tightened his neck, how it accompanied the rise and fall of his throat ─ that he only noticed when you had him on his knees in a blind spot inside the Spider Society tower, and at the risk of being overheard by all nosy and curious spiders, pressed your cock deep into his tight throat until Miguel gasped and struggled for breath, bell rattling violently. The choker felt like your hands squeezing his neck.

After that, the ringing of the silver bell brought a faraway look that no one understood to his face, no one but you. He was remembering that moment, remembering your cock straining his mouth and the sounds you made each time his fangs grazed your cock, the danger of the act that was enough to make you both come, quickly. He found himself unable to get rid of the accessory.

And Miguel was aware of your eyes fixed on his neck as he spoke. Hypnotized. And he would be lying if he said he didn't know what was coming next.

The bell sounded like a drum as you smacked him against the front door of the apartment before Miguel could even close it. You demanded his attention, ravaging his mouth with symbolic violence and sweet urgency, tearing the civilian clothes Miguel wore until they were mere scraps of rags lying on the floor. All this so you could get your hands on his bare skin, map out the scars, the muscles firm and strong and his cock already eagerly hard for you.

You always seemed to want him so badly that it never ceased to amaze him.

You grabbed his bare thighs and lifted him into the air, pressing his back against the rickety door. As if he weighed nothing. Your strength would always surprise you, not because there wasn't someone stronger than Miguel or unable to take him down with pure physical strength, but because you never used your strength to hurt him, you treated him as something fragile and that should be taken care of.

And when the hurried stretching of his hole left him panting and clinging to you, silently begging for more through his grunts and moans and gasps, you kissed him and using only saliva to facilitate penetration, you slid your cock inside him.

The slide knocked the breath out of Miguel's lungs, the friction undiminished by the makeshift lubrication leaving him feeling every delicious inch of your cock opening in his flesh, demanding space.

Lips against his, even though you weren't kissing anymore and the hand that wasn't holding him high, closing around his neck just inches away from the choker, you started fucking him hard against the door. The bell reverberated with a loud bang, swaying along with your movements in and out of his ass and that was all Miguel could concentrate on: the stretching, the burning still there, the sound of the damn bell.

Miguel's eyes rolled back, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks and he searched for air, desperately gasped for oxygen ─ and you didn't have to look at his face to know it, the divine image of open mouth and spittle running down his chin; you could feel his throat rippling under your grip, heartbeat fluttering beneath your fingers. The leather strap there, close to your hand, seemed to become tighter, reflecting the pressure imposed by your fingers.

Miguel was shaking now, talons drawing blood from your shoulders, legs gripping around your waist, unable to move, unable to get away from the deep thrusts he could feel in his stomach or the bell that deafened his senses. He couldn't breathe.

White filled his vision and Miguel gasped as the oxygen suddenly handed back to him, the thud of his head hitting the door a distant sound. Maybe he came, maybe he passed out for a few seconds in your arms, but it didn't matter, he knew you were far from done with him.

Ok, I OD a while back and haven't had the time or the mental to post/write anything. But but but but you can blame rodolfoparras for this. Love thier work and all their cute cat pics!!

Old man Price, who starts wearing reading glasses from all the damage to his retna. He's kinda insecure about it, but when he sees how clear your blush is when he wears them?

He will just be between your thighs one night, breath way too hot, with those damn glasses still on because,

"I need to see you Love. Can't do that without 'em."

And he does, he wants to look at every shudder, and the way your lips try to hold those particularly embarrassing moans becuase fuck is Price good at sucking your sould out of your dick.

Those random reblogs, and the likes are amazing to see <3

I know it sounds dumb but, it's nice.

I'll always write if someone is there to enjoy it.

School is absolutely kicking me. I really don't know when I can write. It's just frustrating, and I'm kind of burnt-out.

I'm halfway through the werewolf x reader thing.

But I don't know.

I'm not even gonna fix the grammar on that... hung over me has fun ideas.

And yes, hung over me did start writing and yes. Even I can't read it. Being dyslexic and drunk doesn't make for the best ease of reading.

May or may not be hung over thinking about a feline könig.....

Fuck it.

Km gonna write it.

Don't mic alcohol kids, never drink clear liquor, then drink after cloudy. Don't dink more than one kind of alcohol. Stick to what you started with, with water between.

Prob the only reason I'm conscious today.

Keep thinking about how price is not the jealous type doesn’t have a streak of possessiveness in him, when asked about he just says he has plenty of trust for his partner and besides he’s way too old to get jealous but then he meets you who’s always referring to price as “my John”, always got an arm around his waist or a hand glued to his hip or playing with the hair at the nape of his neck while resting an arm around him, when out and about you’re never afraid to show affection or be close to him always taking a drag of his cigar while it’s still in between his middle and index finger, always giving him a quick peck and commenting on the taste lingering on his lips “was that black coffee?” You’d say with your face pulled into a frown or letting out a contented hum when tasting the sweet treat he just had, and he realizes that it’s nice to feel like you belong to someone especially when you leave your finger prints onto his hips or hickies all over his body or taking him from behind while he’s wearing nothing but a shirt with your last name printed onto it, or finishing all over the shirt and have him use it as a gag when he fails to quiet down while you’re fucking him into the mattress:/