#with the earrings my transformation will be complete and i can fuck off into the wilderness

[cultrise]

SIZE KINK. GOJO SATORU

ᗢ CONTENTS NSFW, p in v, fingering, some clit rubbing, satoru being a little shit (like always), slaps your clit with his tip for a bit <3, size kink obviously ᵎᵎ wc 1.9k

ᵎᵎ check the mlist for kinktober here !

gojo satoru had known praise and nothing but praise his entire life. always deemed the most powerful, the most handsome man not only in the gojo clan but also in every room he stepped in, it was easy to say satoru’s ego had an ego of it’s own.

so you can well imagine how that translated to his relationships with people, in particular his relationship with you. satoru was not cocky to the point he thought himself better than you. if anything, that man gravitated around you like you were his sun and he was a planet orbiting selflessly. however, being mischievous often intertwined with his ego, always reminding you of how lucky you are.

“god, i’m so jealous of you” satoru slaps a dramatic palm to his chest as you raise a brow “you have such a hot, handsome, smart, talented boyfriend.. did i mention how handsome he is?” he leans in, grinning from ear to ear.

“baby, you washed one dish. please stop talking and do your chores”

this whole charade of his didn’t bother you in the slightest, as you knew it ended up being a good laugh. and you also knew very well that under all that confident exterior satoru had built up, under it lay a very insecure and often sad soul who just wanted to be appreciated for who he was, not what he had to offer.

now, when it came to intimacy, satoru’s ego transformed into something else. he had a slight dominance kink, always getting aroused at the way he got you to squirm under him and chant his name like a broken wish, turning to goo by his hands. and one night, he became acutely aware of how small you were compared to him as you sat on his lap, watching a movie. all of a sudden, a switch clicked in his brain. it was an itch he had to scratch.

“you like this movie?” satoru asked as his eyes shifted to you, fingers tapping on your hipbone. his body surged with excitement as you remained unaware.

“it’s pretty dumb… i still don’t get how this guy survived that fall” you furrow your brows, attention still glued to the screen. satoru grins as you jut your lips out in pure confusion. he would be lying if he said he wasn’t getting hard just at the sight of you. you were too fucking adorable for him to handle.

“wanna stop watching it then? since it’s pretty bad” satoru asks as you finally turn to him, brows raised.

“uh.. sure. you have a better movie in mind?” he presses the off button on the remote, turning the tv on completely as you rested your hand on his thigh, still confused.

“was thinking of something more… hmm, how do i say this?” he looked around as if to search for his own words. in the end, he gave up “fuck’s sake, wanna have sex?”

your eyes widen, lip corners slightly turning upwards at your boyfriend’s impatience. a small chuckle escapes your lips. it’s now his turn to furrow his brows “what?”

“that desperate, are you?” you smile as satoru’s defence mechanism kicks in.

“what? no!… yes.. can you just answer my question?” satoru’s cheeks turn a slight pink as you smile, brushing some stray strands away from his hair.

“i want to know what you’re playing at first..” you admit, eyes staring into his. satoru’s breathing slows down, lips parted as he watches you stare him down. with the way your eyes watch over his, he can feel his boxers tighten. how unfair, he was supposed to be the one with the pretty, hypnotising eyes in the relationship.

“i wanna see something… just trust me” he whispers, hands sliding to your thighs and gripping them slightly. you raise an untrusting eyebrow “oh, come on, baby”

he was starting to beg. you lower your head with a soft giggle, removing the blanket covering your bare legs. at the sight of your plushy thighs, satoru licks his lips. you part away from him, sliding to the other end of the couch and laying back with a tiny smile as satoru rolls his eyes, returning it “what? you started begging for it, you’re doing all the work”

he scoffs, climbing on top of you while you slide your shorts off. no underwear. satoru swallows hard, obvious “i wasn’t begging…” you once again raise your brow. he decides not to retort, he knew better than that.

he gently pushes you back, making sure you’re comfortable as your head rests on one of the couch’s pillows “so pretty…” he murmurs before capturing your lips in a soft kiss, sliding one finger into your sloppy cunt. the action elicits a needy moan from your lips and he smiles, sliding his tongue into your mouth.

you couldn’t say you weren’t sexually satisfied by satoru. quite the opposite actually. and some would say that that was the reason you got wet so easily, no satisfaction. but as high and mighty satoru thought himself.. he was right. nobody could pleasure you like he did and the mere suggestion of getting intimate made your body burn. you would never admit it though. he’d rub it in your face. same way as he was rubbing your swollen clit with his thumb.

your tug at his white hair, breaking the kiss to get some air as the room filled with the sounds of pants and wet squelches of your pussy “too much?” he smirks as you attempt to catch your breath. and because he can’t do anything being a little shit he makes sure to add a second finger in before staring down like a vulture watching his prey.

a sound you’ve never heard before comes out from his lips, followed by a small curse as satoru comes to the realisation that even his fingers look big compared to your cunt. his vision blurs, arousal taking over his every muscle “ahh.. satoru.. you okay?” you ask, hand gently caressing his bicep as you try to hold back your moans.

satoru’s head snaps back up, looking at you with lust-filled eyes “yeah… just admiring how this needy pussy is sucking me in” you mewl at the lewd remark, your walls clenching even more around his fingers. satoru is taunting, he’s relentless and he laughs mockingly before bending his torso down so he can reach your neck.

his kisses trail from your neck upwards, to your jaw and to the shell of your ear as he whispers “ya’ want my cock in you, pretty girl?” you bite your lip, chocking back some desperate cries as you nod, gripping his shoulder. his fingers worked wonders into your gaping hole, curling and moving without hesitation and with only one mission: pleasuring you. and, of course, unbeknownst to you, to compare the size of your body with his.

as satoru takes his fingers out you whine, lips pursed together as all pride and rationality leave your mind “please… hurry..” you beg as he chuckles, sliding his sweatpants and boxers down to his knees before applying a sweet kiss to your forehead. he guides his leaking tip to your entrance, making sure to tease you by rubbing it against your wet folds and slapping your clit with it.

“we have all night, why hurry?” he inquires, a smirk growing on his face as you break into broken pleads. he was bluffing. he needed to fuck you just as much as you wanted him to and he looks down again, watching his pre mix with your juices.

only after he decides he’s done taunting you he pushes in slowly, painfully slow at that, a long groan erupting from his lips. you both take a while to adjust: you to his length and him to the warmth of your pussy. before you open your eyes, you feel his palms grab your thighs, pushing them up so they rest on his shoulders. it was new, something satoru had on his list for a while but just didn’t get to do.

as he looks down at you, mouth shaped in an ‘o’ as your pretty eyes look at him, he realises how much smaller you look now that your legs are folded and hugging his neck. his cock twitches at the thought. his hips snap forward as he starts to move, hands holding your hips while you reach for his neck, pulling him in for a messy kiss.

your moans break against each other’s lips, his pace quickening as you start crying his name desperately. satoru’s mind is hazy and, after breaking the kiss — biting your bottom lip while pulling away — his sight travels down your body. his lip part, he lets out a small gasp and then smiles, a gleeful cackle that sends shivers down your spine "shit, baby... look" satoru bites his lip as he looks at you proudly.

your eyes follow his, trying to see what he's looking at. and then you see it. with every thrust, you can see his bulge through your stomach, an indication of how large his dick was compared to your body "see? that's me right there.. shit... you're so tight" satoru's eyes roll back in his head as the final confirmation of your size difference seeps into his brain. fuck, he was so close to cumming.

you lean back on your pillow with a whine as satoru continued to talk filth in your ear "look at how that cute little pussy is swallowing me in.. what a good girl" he grins against your chest before a lightbulb appears in his head. his hand slides down and presses on your lower stomach, right where his tip was poking and watches your reaction.

you arch your back with a cry, hands digging into the cushions "satoru!.... s'too big!..too deep" you gasp as he starts kissing your jaw, thumb rubbing your clit.

"yeah?" satoru grins against your face "tell me how it feels, princess"

"g..good... so good!" you whine, urging him to keep his pace. he obliges instantly, deep breaths escaping his lips as he felt his orgasm build up. "f..fuck... i'll cu- satoru!" he hums in approval, now focused on finishing the both of you instead of talking (finally).

your orgasm is explosive, it's blissful and your legs shake as you cum all over satoru's length. seeing you squirm under him so hard only makes satoru rut his hips into you faster, biting his lip and muttering a string of curses as he fills you up to the brim.

your chest heaves as he pulls out, throat dry with all the screaming and crying of his name. you wet your lips, wiping your forehead as you try to ignore the weight of your boyfriend, who so kindly decided to drop his body on top of yours like he's not about to suffocate you.

"so.. guess you have a size kink now, huh?" you tease as satoru chuckles, cuddling himself closer to you. your fingers instantly go to his hair, scratching his scalp gently as his cheek presses on your collarbone. and when he finally speaks.. well...

"up for another round?" he gives a toothy grin. "satoru, wha-" your eyes widen as your boyfriend raises his head from your chest. "need to see how many rounds it'll take for you to not be able to walk in the morning."

© cultrise | don’t steal, copy or translate my works.

#✦— kinktober. #𐙚 — pages. #𐙚— dreamscape. #gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader smut #jjk gojo #kinktober '23 #kinktober #kinktober 2023

[solselah]

GODDESS MESSAGE

𓋹

PILE 1 :

𖤓HATHOR𖤓

Omg so immediately she wants to work with you as far as transformation is concerned!!! She can empathize and understand your emotional pain and physical Boundaries !! She sees that in love you have been so fucked over. Especially with the cheating and not being honest & non comital in totality she really wants to help usher in a new person , a new energy for you ! Even if they start as one of your closest friends ! She wants you to be Content and balanced !! She’s also letting you know , that person who fumbled you is definitely getting their just do with karma! And it manifest in a very specific way for this person , I’ll tell you now she is the reason why ! She’s teaching a very strong karmic lesson to this person & my love, to you as well! The twin flame card is here but I’m not feeling that energy at all , I’m more so feeling that this illusion has crumbled to pieces !! You wouldn’t even “care” if they were considered your twin flame honestly the hurt to you Goes way beyond a “dynamic” your over it ! And she can so sense it ! It’s up to you to be truthful and open to her if you are or plan on working with her energy ! Just know it’s a journey & also not everything is rainbow and unicorns with her ! She’s going to reveal to you some real sh*t !

𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹

PILE 2:

𓋹 🐈‍⬛ BASTET 🐈‍⬛ 𓋹

Bastet would like to tell you that there is some spiritual conversations going on in the spiritual realm about you !! She is showing up to help you out with your life’s purpose , giving you the push and encouragement you need to actually put yourself out there !! She intends for you to come into union with your passion! The issue here is that you are totally not willing to fully receive ! She is very strict about this message but in order to walk with her on this journey she would like to take with you , you would have to open up just a bit more ! Like you do your part she will do hers !! She also has some secrets she would love to disclose to you !! I’m talking she can be your spiritual ears when you aren’t around ! She has your back !! You just have to be actually willing !!

𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹

PILE 3:

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ NUT ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

okay so this beautiful goddess sends you intense messages not sure if you have put a name to who is sending these messages but I hope this helps !!

You dream and almost instantly forget once you wake up , she is in charge of taking up that empty space !! I think she is proving to you that parts of you are very closed off like even to the point where it has gotten spiritually silent for you ! That is intentional and will not LAST ! But she moves in complete silence when it comes down to it. She wants you to know YOU ARE SO PROTECTED! Don’t you even dare try to question that ! Like to the point you question her she might let a small mishap happen just so you see her energy LIVE IN ACTION !! She is Very big on lessons with you!! She can see future YOU , and honestly you are going places my friend ! So idk if you would officially decide to work with her but I do know she is there & around ! It’s like she is your encourager someone on the “sideline” for you spiritually!

𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹

PILE 4:

𓍝 MAAT 𓍝

“Give me the energy “

You could be so “bleh” right now like things just don’t seem worth being excited over, for you! She wants to bring you to a grounded space ! It’s obvious you aren’t the same person that you were like last year emotionally ! And she can see you doing better if you were to focus on your emotionally health ! Like she even encourages therapy or a tool that you can utilize to express exactly how you feel ! She also would love to just hear from you ; she can be that for you ! That support.

Although she will tell the truth EVERY TIME! And it may sting real bad , it’s imperative so that you can get up out of this state. It feels good to you right now but she can sense other things that you may not be able to at the moment. So she’s here to ground you , help put your feet on solid ground!!! I also see incense she may want you to burn some for her !! Also I’m getting heavy Aquarius energy along with Uranus energy !! She is highlighting a spiritual cleanse you may need to do !!

𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹

Hope you enjoy ❤️

IG:@soleccentric

#pick a picture #pac reading #pick a card #spirituality #tarot reading #tarotdaily #connection #pick a pile #culture #love #ancient egypt #channeled message #oracle cards #pick an image #pick a photo #hathor #bastet #maat #tarotcommunity #tarot

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Who Dares Summon Me 2: Human Vaggie & Charlie

Vaggie: (winces against the light shining through the window of her bedroom as her head pounds in a hangover) Fuuuuuuck.... why did I drink so much?

Shuffle! Rustle! Shuffle! Shuffle! Rustle!

Vaggie: (Opens her eye slowly)

Charlie: (staring at Vaggie with a bright smile, laying in bed next to her, naked under the covers) Good morning, Vaggie!

Vaggie: Fuck! (throws herself back off the bed, landing on an empty tequila bottle on the floor) FUCK!!! Ugh! Why are you naked?!

Charlie: Oh, my goodness! (holds blankets to her front as she leans over the edge of the bed) Are you alright?!

Vaggie: (pulls the empty bottle out from under her lower back) You! Naked! Why?! (Notices she's still dressed)

Charlie: Oh! The dress only stays on when I'm in my full demon form.

Vaggie: (trying to desperately not stare at Charlie's clevage practically inches away from her face) I don't remember you being naked after you transformed into a human yesterday!

Charlie: (points to the bottle) That's because of the tequila. We took turns taking pulls from the bottle. I didn't want you to get alcohol poisoning.

Vaggie: That explains the hangover. (Glances at the empty 1.75L bottle of Jose Cuervo Especial Silver) And how this was brand new yesterday and completely empty now.

Charlie: (Stares down dreamily at Vaggie as she rests her chin in her hands. Her demon tail deciding to make itself known as it flicks through the air like a cat tail)

Vaggie: (blushes) What?

Charlie: Yoooouuuu... (boops Vaggie's nose as she blushes and tucks her hair behind a human ear, all bashful and giddy) are a very good kisser~

Vaggie: (blushes harder and unconsciously licks her lip, tasting an unknown flavor) Did we.....?

Charlie: (face falls and blushes harder as her demon traits fully extend) No! No!No!No! J-Just kissed! And....maybe made out a little.... You were so forward~ it was so hot~ BUT THAT'S ALL!!! I swear on my royal blood!!!

Lute: (kicks in the door and stands in the doorway wearing only Adam’s oversized flannel) Vagina! Can you shut the fuck up?! Adam and I got the worst twisted hangovers right now. I don't need to be hearing you screaming this early in the after- (Sees Demon Charlie naked on the bed and Vaggie sitting on the floor in a tank top and boyshorts) -noon.

Vaggie: Fuck! (Scrambles to her feet and covers Charlie with an oversized plumb purple hoodie - that's still small on Charlie) Lute! The Fuck?! I've told you to fucking knock!!! And would it KILL you to cover your cunt?!?!?!

Lute: BAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! (points and doubles over in laughter) You finally got fucked, and you're doing some kind of freaky furry roleplay?! Hahahahaha! This is great! I'm telling everyone at work about this! (Slams the door and cackles back to her room)

Vaggie: (growling and swearing in Spanish)

Charlie: (scans around the room before pulling the hoodie on and sniffing the collar, letting the scent of cinnamon and Vaggie's natural smell wash over her) Hmmm~

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel incorrect quotes #part 2 #who dares summon me #chaggie #charlie morningstar #demon charlie #vaggie #human vaggie #human nd demon au #lute #adam #guitarspear #hangover

[seattlesellie]

anything but me; part 1 ♡

pairings: abby anderson x reader, ellie williams x reader

warnings: smut, angst!, mentions of marijuana, secret relationship

synopsis: you, abby, ellie and friends are in a cabin in the middle of a snowstorm. what could possibly ever go wrong?

The landscape, once familiar and inviting, transforms into a hostile and treacherous terrain.

It’s rapid, forming deep, unyielding drifts. it was a relentless onslaught, a tempestuous manifestation of nature's fury.

A snowstorm.

And then a warm, messy kiss, tongue pressing right on the pulse of your neck.

“We can’t-“ You whispered. Shallow breaths, your heart was racing like a runaway train. Pounding rhythm echoed in your ears, palms grew clammy, and beads of sweat formed on your forehead.

It was snowing outside.

And you felt like the middle of August.

“Why?” the blonde whispered, her minty breath caressing your temple. Her heart was beating just as fast, you could feel it against your chest. Her arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you closer and closer with every kiss. You had to break it off.

“Because-“ you whispered erratically. Fuck. She sucked the skin on your neck, suctioning it in between her plump lips. Your cunt was pulsing, she would have mocked you if she knew. “Already?” she’d say, a soft smile creeping on her face.

“Abby-“ you whimpered, as she brought her large hand to cup your clothed cunt. Did she just read your mind? She parted two of her fingers on the delicate spot, just like she spread you wide before divulging in with her tongue. Puffy pussy lips spread open, her favorite.

There was no time for teasing, or for mocking. She needed to fuck you right now.

“Ca- I cant- I cant” you whispered. You almost screeched when she softly patted your clothed cunt. You were ready for a slap.

“Yeah you can…” She grabbed your hair and pulled. “My best girl” she whispered, a glint of cockiness in her eyes. She knew what she was doing. Her praises always paralyzed you completely, completely fucking your brain’s capacity of understanding the outer world out of you. Her needy, nasty girl.

But you really couldn’t. Not right now.

It almost hurt when you had to peel her off of you, to slap her hand away from where you needed her the most.

She pouted. Abby pouted.

“I’m sorry… I- Ellie wanted to talk, she practically begged me to. I told her id come to her room at 10, It’s 10:05” you apologized, eyebrows furrowing in anguish.

“No- No-“ Abby kissed your cheek, trying to catch her breath.

“Don’t apologize, It’s okay, I promise.” She gave you a look, a look that said, I trust you. And you’re mine. And I know how bad you need me. Chivalry was alive and thriving. Ellie should take a masterclass, taught by Abby Anderson herself.

“I’ll be right here, yeah?” She whispered softly, planting a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. It drove you truly crazy sometimes, how a rough kiss was followed by a delicate one, a slap by a caress. Her good girl, and then her slut, her princess, and then her bitch.

“Mhm” you nodded, doe eyed. She hypnotized you. Dragging your feet, forcing them to walk away from her seemed like the worst thing you could ever imagine doing.

But you weren’t an asshole. You weren’t Ellie.

The cabin stood tall and sturdy, nestled amidst a winter wonderland, with its wooden exterior contrasting against the pristine white surroundings. You were dragging your feet, and god, the stickiness in your panties didn’t help.

You hesitated before reaching for the doorknob. With a creak, the door swung open.

“Hey” the auburn haired girl said dryly, as if she didn’t fidget with her fingernails while drawing aggressively just five minutes ago. She was trying to contain herself. Be normal. Just talk to her.

She was wearing a white tank top. It was snowing outside.

“Youre not… cold?” you asked, without even greeting her. You, the thoughtful person that you are.

“M’fine, I turned on the heater” She sniffed. She wasn’t fine, and the heater was definitely off. Her nose was red, eyes puffy, and god, that room smelled like Ellie. Your Ellie.

Was your Ellie.

Before entering her room, you decided you weren’t going to let her win this. See, Ellie had a habit of… dancing around important subjects. She was a master of distraction, knew exactly what to tell you, where to touch you, how to get you to crumble beneath her. She wasn’t evil, she never did it on purpose. The weight of her inner demons pressing upon her were a suffocating presence. They suffocated her, at first. Then, they creeped up on you too. She would yell, and demand you to stay quiet, to shut up. She would argue, and then ignore you, and then argue some more. She would scream at you to leave, and then beg you to let her in. You couldn’t do it anymore.

Thats why you left.

You didn’t know whether to sit or not, so you balanced your weight between your feet. You scratched your chin with your shoulder. Abby. Her scent lingered upon your skin. The cologne, like a silent caress, delicate pine, left an indelible mark upon your being. Your face flushed. Maybe Ellie’s room really was hot. Maybe she was right to wear that top.

You fixed your hair. Focus.

“What did you wanna talk to me about?” You questioned. Ellie was stood in front of you, avoiding your gaze. If she looked - she didnt know what she’d do.

“I don’t know” She said dryly, voice raspier than usual. It smelled like weed. She must have smoked before you entered.

“You don’t know?” you questioned. You tried to avoid rolling your eyes. It was so typical, so Ellie. Of course she didn’t know, she never fucking does.

“I- Can you sit down? Why are you acting like you don’t know me?” Ellie's voice sliced through the air with a tinge of annoyance, her words dripping with frustration. Every syllable carried a distinct edge, as if each letter resented being uttered.

She signaled you to sit on the bed.

You obliged.

She sat next to you, keeping the distance. Funny, how just a month ago, she would have begged you to sit on her lap. She would have pampered you with kisses. That was then, and this is now.

2 strangers.

You felt a lump forming down your throat. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

Ellie stared at the floor. She glanced over to you, and then shifted on the bed. The forrest green duvet emitted a soft rustle, like a gentle sigh escaping its fabric embrace.

She took a deep breath.

Thats what those Youtube videos taught her. “Meditation for beginners” was probably the worst one. “How to deal with anger issues”, yeah, she binge watched 7 of those videos.

“I wanted to ask you…”

You glanced at her. She was biting the inside of her lips, blood was forming. The taste of metal washed over her tongue.

“Fuck-“ She whispered.

“I need you to explain. I need to know why you left.”

your gaze froze, breath catching in your throat. Ellie's question pierced through your defenses, demanding an answer.

“I’m not doing this right now” you said, ready to get up and leave. It’s not like you didn’t expect it, but for some reason, you just couldn’t.

Ellie looked at you with disbelief. As you got up, halfway there, Ellie grabbed your hand forcefully. Before you knew it, you were sat back down on the bed. Your breath hitched. You should have walked away.

“I said I’m not doing this with you.” You made eye contact with her for the first time. Her eyebrows were scrunched, jaw clenched. Your Ellie.

“Are you not even going to apologize? I mean, fuck-“ Ellie's eyes narrowed, frustration burning within her. Her gaze intensified, her pupils dilated.

Apologize?

“Fuck- Apologize?” you laughed in disbelief.

“Holy fucking shit- Wow” you glared at her.

“You are un-fucking believable”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #abby anderson #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson angst #ellie williams angst

[skyclan-funny-name-squad]

Okay wow I was not expecting my kittypet fae post to take off overnight like this, but I'm glad you all like it! I've been thinking about kittypet culture so this is what I think is the reasoning behind the beliefs.

Kittypets are often well groomed and well fed no matter the season, while wild cats are often groomed there's a softness to kittypet pelts that you don't find in wild pelts. Along with pretty accessories that a wild cat would have no clue what they are like bows. As such they start to seem a bit uncanny valley because they look like you but not Quite. Especially because of more purebred cats who have brighter pelts or unusual colors or strange muzzles or weird ears. Which helps spread the thought that kittypets aren't fully cats, but something similar, something different but the same. Firestar as a purebred orange cat is just a lot naturally brighter or vivid then the more muted oranges that appear in the wild, and that scares cats.

Kittypets also like to share with their wild friends, they see their friend skinny and cold and want to bring them inside where they can get food and get warm. So they tend to offer it pretty often, however cats that do this start to get used to the ease of food and warmth of the den and find it harder to stay wild or to stay away from twolegs. Some kittypets may even aid twolegs in trapping their friends for the sake of protecting their friends from the harsh outdoors. Which everyone knows once you've bonded with a twoleg whether you want to or not your transformation into one of them is nearly complete.

Kittypet food is also meant to fill a cat as its been fine-tuned to fit the needs of a cat so even if a cat doesn't think it tastes as good as mouse, it still fills them in ways they may struggle to get with hunting. So cats that risk taking a bit start to go back for more, especially in harder hunting series. Sure sparrow may be a bit tastier but if its a sparrow once a week during leafbare or kittypet food every day, cats are going to be tempted.

With kittypets not being in a war culture and often just chilling beyond mild spats means there's more room for other activities like a lot more gossip and stories, news travels fast between cats because kittypets are horrendous gossips which means if you fuck over a kittypet, every other kittypet is going to hear about it and shame you for it. To clan cats it's shocking because kittypet news travels throughout an entire twolegplace and even beyond it thanks to some kittypets that travel in like trucks and stuff, so it can seem like despite being nowhere near the original kittypet, everyone still magically knows how you messed up. This extends to their friends as well, if you beat up a cat that the kittypets consider a friend over a border dispute all the kittypets are going to be like "hey why'd you do that that was mean" and potentially chase you away.

Now for names is something I think is interesting because kittypets are never really like "my names Mouse but the twolegs call me Mittens" so clearly twoleg names have some priority here for kittypets, while the significance of this can very between whatever you want really, its clearly important. So if you get taken in by a twoleg to heal a wound and the twoleg starts calling you Pants, then suddenly all the kittypets call you by that name. No matter how much you insist your name is Twigpounce, you're Pants now. Plus if you're actively stuck with kittypets, you'll start going by Pants as well. Thus the kittypet's steal your name.

Cats that come back from twolegs always come back changed, from how they talk, to how they walk, to what food they eat, to the things they say. They can still shake off the influence and return to the wild, but they'll always be a bit off, a bit different. Everyone knows Tallstar was pet-touched a long time ago from how he acts, but everyone politely doesn't bring it up.

Avoid kittypets! They're tricksters that look like us but they're liars with their fake mice and fake warmth! Do not trust! They aren't true cats! They're something different! Something more dangerous! Do not be tricked!

Also Longtail still throws down with Rusty because he's an idiot and also probably hoping that this will make the scary fae child leave his clan alone.

#warrior cats #warriors #warrior cat #warrior #tallstar #firestar #kittypet #fae kittypet au #longtail

[042502]

Cinema // M. Sturniolo x Reader.

SYNOPSIS: Your boyfriend Matt leaves work early and sees the hot messages you left him, invites you to the movies and returns the trick you made on him.

WARNINGS: Sex in public, masturbation in public, dom! Matt, fingers, oral sex receiving fem!, dirty talk, cute nicknames, Wet kisses.

WORDS: 3.719

NOTES: My first language is not English, so if you find any grammatical errors you already know why :) Avoid making offensive comments about it and if this is too much for you, fuck off. MASTERLIST!!

Matt had finished his work early, He was so relaxed about it, he took his cell phone to send you a text message with the good news, but then he realized he had some messages from you.

He opened the chat and his face transformed, there were some sensual photographs and some audio notes that before playing he lowered the volume enough so that only he could hear it.

His ears were filled with moans screaming his name and asking for attention.

Finally he smiles and decides to send you a voice note as well.

"Good night, precious, dear, darling, little thing" starts your audio message. "It's nice to get out of work, I leave with a smile on my face because seeing you like this and listening to those rich audios, anyway, I don't want to get cloying although I think I already have" He remains thoughtful, before returning to what he was doing. "Well, I'll give you thirty minutes, okay? "I've been out before." He comments with a smile on his lips. "Look pretty, we're going to the movies, or rather make yourself comfortable because it's going to be very hot, "I would wear a dress or something." He rambles and walks through the hallways while licking his lips. "You know I'm capricious, you're going to put on the dress, the white of flowers, nothing else. I catch you ¿Ok? I send a kiss, I want to see you bye" He sends a kiss and sends the audio to his girl.

You were waiting for your boyfriend, you were as he asked you, wearing that short white dress with some scattered flowers.

"But look how pretty my girl is, please" His voice was present and you couldn't help but smile happily. "Hello" He greets you with a long kiss on the lips and before separating he kisses you again, but this time it's a short one. "God" He places a short kiss again and finally distances himself. "Wait, Let me see you."

He scans you completely with his eyes, He had a big smile on his lips and his eyes shone in an unusual way.

"I love it, I love that fucking dress you're wearing." He approaches you again and kisses you, taking your face in his hands to go a little deeper.

You carefully move it away timidly, There were too many people in the place.

"Matt, Please there are people watching."

"Well, "But I do what I can't get my nose into." He says raising an eyebrow. "¿Or are you going to stop me? Come on."

He resumes his position again and kisses you as he pleases without caring about the people around him. It was almost like an intimate kiss, a much needed kiss.

Once he distances himself, he gives you a smile.

"I really wanted to see you" He confesses to you and your heart races because of his words. "Well I would give you the choice, but they have told me about one..." refers to the movie they would see. "Well, I know it won't be your favorite." He laughs guiltily. "But then you can choose where we have dinner ¿Ok?"

"Shots, scenes of war and chases" you roll your eyes knowing what your boyfriend will surely want to see.

"Yeah, shooting, war" list. "You said it" confirm your theory. "It is what it is, it's what it's up to, no... Today no" defends himself. "Today the movie appeals to me, ¿Ok? Then you mistreat me at the dinner you choose."

You hum in response and you walk side by side, Matt looked so handsome today, so damn good.

"How was your day? How are you?" He asks you and then you begin your endless talk of your arduous day in his absence.

You told him about a random situation that had happened that day, until they reached the ticket booth, There was a long line so he asked you to sit not far away while he got them. During his absence you couldn't help but see him in great detail, The view from behind was not unpleasant either. Once he got the tickets he returned to you.

"Yeah, Yeah. I'm here now, Have you had a bad time in these two minutes of absence?" You smile nodding as you stand next to him. "Me too" He smiles and you look at the jar of popcorn along with a soda in his hands.

"How delicious!" You take some popcorn and hold the soda for him, freeing one of his hands.

"It's no big deal, I bought some jelly beans" He looks in his pocket for the package and shows it to you, You smile, excited about it. "Well let's go there, They are in..." wanders looking at the tickets "a side."

"Did you buy the side seats? They are terrible" You pout.

"If I bought them on the side... I like it" He shrugs.

"How do you like them? Seriously, they are one of the worst places in a movie theater."

"Well, because I like. Look from the side, people don't bother you, it still looks good" lists randomly. "That area is very discriminated against." he comments with a frown. "Very much" exaggerates the word. "So today you and I are going to enjoy it."

You sigh heavily and continue your walk towards the living room.

"By the way, you are welcome" You look at him expectantly. "I told you that it was going to be disgustingly hot and in fact it is a little bit hot, a little bit." You nod at his words agreeing with him.

Arriving at the room with the lights off, You look at him waiting for instructions.

"Yeah, go up" points out.

They managed to sit in their corresponding seats and the movie started right on time.

It had been a few minutes since the movie had started, You were overwhelmed with the topic, As your boyfriend had mentioned before, You weren't this style of movies that are about wars and shootings. But he wanted to see her.

"How was the movie?" Matt asked close to your ear.

"Is not my style."

"I already know" makes a face. "Well, it's not that bad actually. No problem...

You raise your shoulders and take some popcorn to taste, then again you listen to your boyfriend.

"Wait let me..." Matt's hand gave your bare thighs a squeeze, They give him a quick slap, but he, without caring, raises his hand running through your skin.

In a desperate movement you try to push his hand away from there.

"Uff love" you look at him. "Pulls out, don't take my hand away, stop" he tells you seriously, but you continue to put pressure on his hand to push it away. "Stop, fuck, be still, Watch the movie."

Your hand left his and finally made its way between your legs, can feel your heat. You look around, The people who were present were looking at the big screen.

"Stop Matt." you beg him.

"That no one is looking at us, fuck, you to yours" He murmurs and continues rubbing your intimacy. "The only one looking at others is you." He caresses your legs again, you can feel your skin boiling at his touch. "God, I love touching your legs, they are so soft..." your eyes meet Matt's. "You look ahead, Don't worry" He whispers, trying to calm you down.

He continued caressing your thighs with a slow rhythm, He was with his eyes on the screen, so you just do the same thing he does.

The movie was extremely boring. not just because it wasn't to your liking, it really sucked.

"It's going a little slow, right?"

"What do you think?" You respond, annoyed, Matt laughs silently.

"You don't know how much I love that you come here like this." your eyes leave the screen and look at him, He had a silly smile on his lips. "Come here" He breaks the short distance between you and put his tongue in your mouth, forming a warm kiss. "How delicious you taste, love" He says on your lips as he kisses you needily, His hand on one of your thighs begins to exert pressure and that makes you open your mouth even more. "I love holding your thighs tight while we're not kissing... Shit... Whore movie. When are they going to start shooting?"

You look at him confused by his annoyance..

"Because you said so?"

"Not for nothing" sighs, seeking to regulate his breathing. "Don't worry."

We returned to our positions to see the screen, There was not so much popcorn left in the jar and the movie seemed to be taking flight, An action scene was shown on the screen.

"Come on! Run, run, run!" shouted one of the military actors.

"Brian back!" shouts one of the soldiers who appear on the scene.

"Get in the car!! Get in the car!!" responds the other actor.

My eyes were on the scene, it was so confusing... Matt leans close to my ear and whispers.

"A chase."

He put his hand awkwardly in the popcorn jar, but I ended up throwing what was left of you on the ground.

"Damn...! Shit..." He curses and my attention goes straight to the jar on the ground and the popcorn that is scattered.

Matt leans over to grab the jar and scoop up some popcorn, intending to clean up the mess he made, Or that's what I thought he was doing because suddenly I felt his hands go under my dress and pull away my underwear.

By reflex I look around and cover my pussy with my hands, Worried that someone might see us.

"Take your hand away, Stay still, Stay still Fuck!" he scolds me in whispers, taking my hands out of the way, He buries his face between my legs and leaves a wet kiss on my pussy.

Start giving one, two and three kisses right in the center of my pussy, I increase the suction on each one.

"Matt they're not looking! Stop!" I whisper loud enough so only he can hear me.

"No shit! Nobody sees us!" use my same tone. "I'm collecting the fucking popcorn!" uses an almost ironic tone.

Hold my knees with your hands, exerting a little pressure.

"Spread your legs a little more darling, open them."

I timidly open my legs little by little, this seems to exasperate Matt, because his hands pressed their grip on my knees and spread them apart without fear.

He gets closer to my pussy and spits on it to lubricate it more. His lips close on my clitoris, They open again and his tongue gives it some stimulating strokes, repeat the sequences a few times, varying speed and intensity.

His hands go up from my knees to my thighs, caressing and squeezing them hard.

My hand was restless, I was too afraid that someone could see us or even hear us. Because from my position on the padded seat with my legs spread wide, I could hear some faint lewd sounds that Matt's mouth was making sucking my pussy. They were slightly muffled by the film shots.

"Give me your hand darling."

Matt lets go of my thigh and reaches for my hand, I tremblingly hold it, He presses my hand with his, giving me confidence.

His kisses became wetter, maybe it was because my pussy was already excited enough.

"Matt... Stop, They can seriously catch us..." My legs try to close, but he grunts against my pussy and lets go of my hand to spread my legs.

"No one sees us, shut up!"

I have some moans between my lips, this felt really hot. I don't know if it's because Matt really knows how to get on my nerves or because we were in a compromising situation.

"And cover your fucking mouth." Matt orders me from between my legs.

Matt's fingers penetrated my pussy and I swear to God I had to put my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming in that damn movie theater.

His fingers entered my wet pussy and withdrew with the same speed, god, this was being too much, I wasn't sure how many fingers were inside me, but damn, it feels so good. My eyes wanted to focus on the movie, but God, that was impossible.

His damn fingers moved frantically inside me. My eyes connect with Matt, his mouth was half open, I could swear I heard him moan.

The noise of the siren of patrol cars and ambulances were present, thanks to the film.

Matt's fingers left my pussy, but his lips quickly took their place again.

The chase was culminating, Matt continued with his face entertained in my pussy, but I could see his hands carelessly putting some popcorn into the jar.

When the sirens stop wailing and we enter a quiet scene, Matt returns to his seat with the jar of popcorn in his hands.

He clears his throat as he settles back into his seat. He puts the bottle aside and looks at the big screen, while he runs his hand over his mouth to clean himself.

"Damn... What a disaster..."

My legs close, feeling the absence of his fingers inside me. My gaze was fixed on the screen, Matt got close enough to my ear to whisper.

"Damn darling, if the chase lasted a little longer I would stay down there... I already told you that you were going to be hot." Matt makes fun of me. "You know I love the taste of your pussy, you know that?"

I felt like I was shaking because of his dirty words, it's doing hundreds of things in me right now.

"I want to share it with you, come give me that tongue."

I turn my head towards him and my mouth opens timidly, my tongue peeking out, which instantly meets Matt's tongue. A dirty game begins between them, hitting each other, Matt's lips catch my tongue and I felt my pussy get wet from that hot action.

My hand searched for his belt buckle, but I went down a little further, rubbing his clothed and bulging cock. The kiss breaks and Matt removes my hand from his cock.

"Stop, darling, stop, stop, don't touch me." I hold my hand tightly. "Don't fucking touch me, stay still, stay still.

He sighs heavily, I guess he was looking to control himself a little more or I just saw we wouldn't be fucking right there.

"Did you like how I ate your pussy?" Matt asked in a whisper.

"Language."

"Yes the pussy, fuck, your fucking pussy" breathe loudly. "God... I'm breathing and I can still smell the smell... I hope they shoot again soon, because I want to go down there again and eat it."

My thighs collided with all the force I could muster, my pussy was completely wet, eager for attention and not just any attention, Matt's attention.

"And that you leave my face, a Christ for your fluids..."

He breathes hard again and his hand is placed on one of my thighs.

"Meanwhile, keep opening those legs for me because I want to reach out and grab those thighs that are mine."

My legs open and he holds my thighs from the inside, giving it a strong squeeze.

"Let's continue watching the movie."

The following scenes were extremely boring, these types of movies were obviously not my favorites. Even right now they seemed twice as boring to me, perhaps because I was anxious for Matt to come down and pay attention to me...

It seems that Matt noticed my impatience about it.

"Do you want me to come down again?" His question forced me to look at him eagerly. "Wait, wait, you already got dirty..."

The engine of a motorcycle was present and my legs moved impatiently.

"I can't go back down there" He looks at me and has a desperate expression. "No... I can't come down and eat your pussy now... As long as it's not too loud a scene, I can't."

Let me explain and the scene at this moment consisted of a conversation between two men arguing.

"But... Taking advantage of this..." His hand, which was on my thigh, pulls my underwear aside and rubs my g-spot with one of his fingers. "Yes I can..."

Two of his fingers enter me inside and my teeth catch my inner lip, thus holding back a moan.

"Look at the bitch face you're giving me, you're serious..."

His sentence is cut off because the scene changes to a quieter one. Still Matt's fingers kept moving between my legs.

"Spread your legs a little love."

My legs spread wide without any shame. He had his hand between my legs with his fingers buried in my pussy, and his head near the crook of my neck whispering dirty things to me.

"God... Her pussy is soaked babe, her pussy is in a fucking fountain."

This moment was being too hot, my pairs closed around his fingers, my lips parted and a moan of excitement escaped me.

"Cover your damn mouth, because I'm going to put another finger in you, honey."

I bite my lip hard, his fingers moved so well inside me, I wanted to just get on top of him and jump on his damn cock while he spanked my ass.

"How perverted you get sometimes..."

The speed at which his fingers were buried in my pussy increased, it wasn't the next thing I could go, because if he exerted more speed against my wet pussy the friction and splashing would be heard.

But I squirmed subtly in my seat, and some grunts escaped me uncontrollably.

His fingers stop suddenly, and it frustrates me.

"Cover your fucking mouth, when you don't cover your fucking mouth and don't stop making noise I'll stop" that threat from Matt turned me on too much.

I shake my head, nodding and pressing my lips together as a sign that I would keep my mouth closed.

"That's it, good girl... I'll think whatever the hell you want, but let me continue enjoying this pussy with my fingers."

His fingers resumed their movements, entering and leaving without any concern, little by little adding speed while being careful not to make lewd noises.

"God, he's soaked..." my fluids were dripping down his fingers. "Let me see that neck, while I continue touching you."

He stretched my neck giving him access and he breathed against my skin, almost caressing the skin of my neck with his nose.

"I love the way you smell honey."

He began to leave wet kisses down my neck, with his fingers still penetrating my pussy with precision.

"I'm sure right now you'd like me to spread your legs and shove my hard cock into you."

"Faster Matt... Please."

"I can't speed up, I can't, your heart is soaked. Everyone will hear you" I knew perfectly well that he also wanted to speed up. "Get ready because in the next action scene... I plan to spank that pussy with my fingers."

This was torturing me in an impressive way. Even Matt was looking forward to this damn action.

A small fight scene appears on the scene, my eyes meet Matt's.

"I can't take it anymore, you're going to take advantage of this noise to put your fingers in, you son of a bitch," he accelerated his fingers, God this is so good.

"Matt... This feels too good" my legs move.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

The scene stops and Matt's fingers stop dead, she huffs in annoyance at this.

"Damn it, shut up," he orders me.

He moved his fingers carefully so as not to make much noise, but it was so slow that it tortured me.

"Matt, move them now...."

"But what the hell do you want me to do if the fucking movie doesn't make any noise?"

"Then stop..."

"I just don't want to stop touching you..."

Some shots appear on the screen.

"Damn! Are you ready?"

""I'm ready Matt."

His fingers enter and exit at the speed he was longing for, My legs tremble and close little by little.

"Spread those damn legs."

My mouth opens wide and my eyes close, Some heavy sighs come out of my mouth.

""You're going to make me put my fucking hand in that fucking mouth of yours to make you shut up."

His fingers move desperately, almost searching for my organ with precision.

"Matt, I'm going to run right here, if you don't stop."

"I don't care, give it to me, cum for me honey."

He accelerated his movements and his fingers went deeper inside me, my lips were trapped between my teeth, he could feel that he would cut them off from the force he was using.

I close my eyes and my body relaxes completely, I had reached my orgasm, My legs were shaking and Matt's hand kept moving inside me.

A few seconds later he removes his fingers from my pussy and pats me a few times to calm my spasms.

"Kiss me darling."

My eyes meet Matt and he brings my face closer to his, my mouth meets his with total desire.

My hands catching his hair to further intensify our kiss, with his hands squeezing my thighs.

"Shit... I have a cock that fits in my pants right now, but get ready in the bathroom, because when we go out I plan to use you."

"But Darling..."

""I don't care, I think that in about a minute when I put it in your pussy, I'm going to cum like a beast."

"I loved this" I left a kiss on his lips.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it" matt looks at the big screen and frowns. "I'm going to have to come see the movie again because I haven't found out anything."

"Yeah" I laughed about it. "I love you."

"I love you too honey."

NOTES: Remember to hit the heart and share it with your friends! Thanks for reading^^ If you want to be part of the taglist leave a comment!

TAGLIST: @luverboychris @alexandernvr @prisciliin @sturncakez @imwetforyourmom @hotreaderliin @tillies33ssss

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fanfiction #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo oneshots #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fluff #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo soft #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fluff

[jellyjays]

come away, oh ghostly child (pt 1)

(PT 2 ->)

Danny is tired. So, so tired.

Months pass by and every day, it's something new, something new coming for him.

Skulker, Technus, Vlad, Pariah, the fucking Box Ghost, there's always something there to ruin his fucking day. He can't catch a single fucking break.

He's tired.

And one day, Skulker decides to attack again. He chose the wrong day.

Skulker attacks in the middle of the street, facing Danny down.

'I will have your pelt!'

Danny turns to Skulker, transforming in the middle of the street, and sends Skulker a glare that has the hunter completely terrified and confused.

'When will it stop, Skulker?'

Skulker, confused by the change in Danny and the question, stays silent.

'Haven't I given enough? Haven't I done enough? When will it be enough, Skulker? When you finally have my pelt on your ancient-damned wall? When Vlad finally gets what he wants?'

'I-' Skulker tries, only to be cut off with only a wave of Danny's hand.

'I'm a fool, a damned fool, for thinking anything will change. Nothing will change, not you, not the other ghosts, not my parents' views on ghosts, nothing. It never changes. And isn't that just poetic?'

Have you ever been to a water park with one of those giant buckets that hangs up above, only to pour water when it reaches its fill?

Danny's bucket is full, and it's about to pour.

Amity Park is about to be the poor, unsuspecting child standing under it.

'When will it be enough? When will I be enough? When will it stop?'

Ectoplasmic tears fall down Danny's face, and his voice echoes, dangerously close to a wail.

'When? Or am I really just the fool? Everyone laugh it up at the foolish ghost who tries to help! Doesn't he know he's dead too, and nobody is fucking mourning?'

A storm brews above Amity, the wind whipping around. Tucker and Sam's voices scream at him, but he can't hear much now above the growing ringing in his ears.

The world is reacting as the Ghost King's anguish spills over the edges.

'I find it so ironic that despite being dead, everyone acts like I'm alive. I'm not. I'm fucking dead, and yet I'm still expected to, what, be the town fucking superhero? I'm 15! What the fuck can I do?'

His anguish leaks into the Infinite realms as trees come down and lightning strikes everything high enough.

'I'm so--' waves terrorize the coastlines-- 'fucking--' storms build in even the dryest of places-- 'TIRED.'

...

And then, quiet. Comfort, like a warm towel.

'Hello, child,' says Gotham, having felt his anguish. She holds Danny close and warm, swaddled in stars and fog. 'I feel your pain. Please, let me help.'

Danny knows his answer before she even finishes.

Gotham smiles.

...

Danny wakes up, 3 years old, with a blanket of stars over his shoulders, on the roof of a building he doesn't know the name of.

Danny cries because he is cold and it has begun to rain in Gotham.

Hush, child, Gotham whispers in his ear. My city is your new playground.

Danny's cries quiet.

And little Danny smiles, because he feels loved.

He ties his blanket of stars around his neck and begins to float. His memories are hazy, but he doesn't mind, because here is this wonderful new place for him to explore!

And so he begins to leap from roof to roof, giggling all the way.

Gotham smiles upon him.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #gotham #dc #batman #batfam #i feel a little silly writing this but if people want more i have Many Thoughts i can share

[xxsabitoxx]

Cowboy | Kinktober Side Quest 2

Dinosaur Hybrid Kyojuro x AFAB Horse Jockey Reader

A/N: if this sounds fucking bizarre… it’s because I’m using Steel Ball Run Aka Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure pt.7 as inspiration. Listen… I’d let Diego Brando do horrid things to me when he’s in between transforming due to Scary Monsters.

If I don’t do a good job trying to paint this picture for you, you can always reference this to help!

Divider is from @benkeibear | @monster-october-kny-2023

Kyojuro, who makes a point to hide his “deformity” with his hair. His cowboy hat always casting shadows on his handsome face and fiery hair.

Kyojuro, who places bandages on his cheeks to hide the fact that his mouth extends all the way to the end of his jaw.

Kyojuro, who pulls away when you try and fix his hair for him.

Kyojuro, who’s heart falls to his stomach when the wind blows to hard and reveals the secret he’s been trying to hide.

“Woah…” you breathed out, hand reaching to ghost across the cracks in his cheek. Sharp teeth were pointing out of it, the bandage on his face peeling off a bit as he gasped. “I… don’t look at me please I know it’s ugly…” Kyojuro’s hand came up to try and hide how far his mouth extended, inching away from you out of fear. “No… Kyojuro it’s not ugly I just wasn’t expecting it.” You clarify, finding it oddly beautiful.

“You… don’t find it ugly?” He seemed hesitant, golden eyes meeting yours to try and decipher if you were serious. “Not at all… it’s pretty cool actually…” you took a hesitant step closer, not wanting to push the man before you if he wasn’t ready. Much to your relief, Kyojuro didn’t shy away. Your fingers brushed along his cheek, tucking a strand of golden hair behind his ear as you carefully observed the jagged cracks and elongated smile. “You don’t have to explain how this happened, though I must admit I’m very curious.”

Kyojuro, who tells you all about his bizarre quirk and how it happened.

Kyojuro, who tells you that he can fully transform into a dinosaur if he really wanted too

Kyojuro, who can grow a long, orange and red tail that looks just like a reptile's tail

Kyojuro, who now freely uses his interesting abilities to help you get ahead in the horse race

"Ya know, you're pretty hot like this, Kyojuro." you laughed softly, back resting against your bag of supplies as the fire crackled before you. On the other side, Kyojuro was attempting to put some bandages over his jaw. "You find my in-between stage hot?" the blonde countered you, causing the tape to peel away again. "I do." you grabbed your stick to prod at the fire as it began to dwindle, the desert was too cold at night to go without the warmth.

"Well, it's taken me some time, but I'm slowly getting used to it. Still, I wouldn't necessarily call it hot." he tried to put the tape on again, this time a little further up so it wouldn't interfere with his talking. "Do you think I could ride you, Kyojuro?" This time, the cowboy missed completely when trying to apply his tape. "And what do you mean by that, little lady?" he drawled, mind wandering to a much filthier place. "I mean in your dinosaur form, you probably run as fast as my horse."

The smirk on your face told him it was nothing more than a cover-up, you meant something far different. "I can assure you, little lady, that my dinosaur form is nothing in comparison to my human form." your tongue came out to wet your lips, smiling a bit as you innocently tilted your head. "And what do you mean by that, cowboy?" You could see his eyes burning even over the once again blazing flame. He was busying himself with the other side of his face as he spoke.

"My stamina, I can only last so long in that form. My human body can endure a lot more, it can last longer."

"That so, cowboy? Why don't you prove it to me?" you got up, making your way around the fire pit to crouch before the hybrid man. "Little lady... you don't know what you're asking me to." he breathed out, observing what he could of you now that you were covered in shadow. "Oh, I beg to differ, cowboy. I know exactly what I'm asking you to prove." Your tone was challenging him, the smirk on his face making heat flood you even with the chilly air surrounding you.

"Alright then, little lady, put your riding skills to work."

You sunk your teeth into your lower lip, trying to suppress your smirk as you stood again. Kyojuro watched you, straighten his legs so you could properly straddle him. “There we go.” He commented softly as you settled in his lap, knees digging firmly into the sand below you. “Go on now, show me.” You could feel his half-hard dick as you squirmed a bit, muttering a soft “testing it out” as he quirked his brow. Kyojuro merely hummed, calloused fingers finding their home on your waist as you began rocking your hips steadily into his. “Atta girl…” he groaned, head falling back so you could admire his defined jaw.

You were strategic about how you touched him, fingers dancing along the coarse material of his top before sliding up his neck. You wanted to touch his jaw, finding that part of him to be utterly hypnotic. You wanted to trace the jagged cracks that split all the way up to his cheekbones, kiss the soft lips that were parted so prettily for you as you grinder against him. “Cowboy… can I kiss you?” Your voice had a slight twang as you said your request, pulling a smile all the way up his jaw as he uttered back “I’d be honored if you did, little lady.”

You didn’t need much more confirmation that that, lips colliding with his in a messy kiss. You nearly yelled when his tongue slithered past your parted lips, longer than a human tongue as he swept into your mouth. Your fingers found their way to his cheeks, pressing into the uneven skin with care, eager to finally feel him how you’ve been wanting too. Your hips didn’t cease their movement, rocking into him with more fervor, until you could feel him through the leather of your riding pants. “Kyojuro…” you pulled away, salvia keeping you connected as his lips chased after your own.

“What is it?” He breathed out, thumb rubbing circles on your hip as he guided you to drag your covered cunt again him. “What if someone sees? We’re out in the open after all…” but the cowboy just shook his head, “then let them watch.”

#kinda an unfinished thought #kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer smut #demon slayer headcanons #hashira #kny smut #rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku x y/n #kny rengoku #kimetsu rengoku #rengoku smut #kny kyojuro #kyojuro smut #kinktober 2023

[ilovemybishies87]

The Vacation from Hell - Chapter One

Inspired by @damntheyare's amazing fanart. I did end up changing a couple elements because I suck and did not realize who the cat and dog were supposed to be until after I had completed the chapter. Sorry, KeeKee and Razzle/Dazzle!

This will also be posted to AO3, along with all future chapters, once I have an account. Until then, enjoy!

*EDIT* Now posted to AO3!

Alastor wasn’t sure how he found himself in this situation. No, that wasn’t quite accurate. He had some semblance of an idea. The Princess of Hell was known for her harebrained projects, but none more harebrained than a hotel with the sole purpose of redeeming the lowliest of Hell’s sinners. It was ridiculous. Laughable!  

But between the song she had belted out to the idea itself, he considered himself sold. Of course, she had no experience running a hotel. That wasn’t so much a flaw as it was a feature. He could only imagine relishing her failure once the futility of her goal dawned on her. Until then he would bide his time in the shadows—a most fitting place, if he said so himself!—playing his self-assigned role as co-manager. 

There was only one, tiny problem: he had seriously underestimated how much the universe wanted to fuck him over. 

______________________________  

“I need to visit a hotel!” Charlie announced. 

The ragtag band of guests and staff were lounging in the common room a few days after Sir Pentious’s pitiful attack on the hotel. All except Niffty, who had made it her mission to clean the place from top to bottom. Vaggie and Angel Dust sat next to each other on the sofa, scrolling their phones. Husk stood behind the counter at the bar, finishing his inventory of liquors for the night.  

Alastor turned to Charlie standing on the opposite side of the room. Papers plastered the wall behind her, filled with all the ideas she hadn’t yet written off as futile. She seemed frozen in place while she waited for a response. 

Eventually Angel Dust pulled his gaze from his phone long enough to give her a brief glance and laughed. “You live in a hotel!” A pair of arms made a sweeping motion around them, emphasizing his point. “Why do you need to visit one?” 

Charlie shook her head. “I know that, Angel! I meant a thriving one!” she said, and her grin stretched wide. “One on Earth!” 

Alastor raised a brow at her declaration. This time her statement did not go unnoticed. Vaggie’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. Angel Dust’s phone dropped onto his lap as he stared at her, incredulous. Even Husk stopped in the middle of his count, ears turned in the group’s direction.   

“Hon,” said Vaggie, once the initial shock had worn off, “that sounds—” 

“Like the best idea ever? I know!” 

“Not what I was going to say,” Angel Dust muttered. He picked up his phone and started scrolling again. 

“Just consider it field research!” said Charlie as she crossed the room, hardly able to contain her excitement. “Only for a couple of days, of course. I can’t leave the hotel vacant for long, in case a guest decides to check in.” 

“But there are too many unknowns!” Vaggie said, throwing her hands in the air. “Have you ever been to Earth before? People don’t exactly look like they do here.” 

“I could wear a disguise!” 

Vaggie slapped a hand over her face. “Do you even know how to get there?” 

“Not exactly,” Charlie said after a moment, deflated. “But surely someone knows the way!” 

Alastor took the opportunity and made his way over to them. “Naturally!” His microphone materialized in his hand. “You needn’t worry about the where or the how, my dear. Nothing my magic can’t handle, not at all! I can get us there and back in a jiffy!” 

Charlie stared up at him, hands clasped together. Her eyes practically shone. “Really?” 

“Well,” he added, side eyeing Vaggie with a smirk, “maybe not all of us.” 

Vaggie put her arm between him and Charlie, shielding her from the Radio Demon. “No way! Even if I thought you knew how to get there—which I don’t—”  

“Well, I do.” 

“And you do your little voodoo, so you guys blend in—” 

“Not voodoo,” stated Alastor. 

Vaggie ignored him. “I would never trust you alone with Charlie!” 

Charlie looked between her and Alastor. “Vaggie, I don’t want to go without you either! But,” she said sheepishly, “he sort of has a point?” 

“Excuse me?!” Vaggie took a step back, eyebrows furrowed. 

“I'm just saying,” Charlie continued, wringing her hands, “I’m not thrilled leaving the hotel alone. But if someone stayed here . . . well, there’s no one I trust more than you.”   

Vaggie sighed. “I appreciate it,” she said. “I really do! Still, I don’t trust him.” She glared at Alastor’s grinning face. “What’s the catch? You trying to use this to get Charlie to make a deal? I won’t let that happen!” 

He couldn’t fault her for jumping to that conclusion. The thought certainly crossed his mind, albeit briefly. But the rewards far outweighed any inconveniences. A simple glamour would solve their . . . unconventional appearances. And while he didn’t particularly desire returning to Earth, the trip would be worth the despair the princess would face once she realized how much of a farce her little Hazbin Hotel truly was. 

“Shame,” Alastor said, and flicked his claws. “But perish the thought! Consider this a sub-clause to our original agreement.” 

“But why?” Vaggie demanded. “What’s in it for you?” 

“You remember—” 

She groaned. “Ugh . . .” 

“The entertainment!” they said in unison, Vaggie less enthusiastically. 

“Come on, Vaggie,” said Charlie. She placed her hands on the other woman’s shoulders. “We won’t be gone long. This trip is what the hotel needs for inspiration!” 

“I don’t know. You really think you’ll be fine?” Vaggie glanced at Alastor. “Alone. With him.” 

Charlie bit her lip. “It’s fine. Although,” she continued, hesitant, “I would feel a bit more comfortable with added company.” 

“Tsk! Very well.” Normally Alastor wouldn’t cave to requests, but he would allow her this small victory. “If you must, we can take Niffty and Husk.” 

Husk turned to the trio from his spot at the bar. “Who the fuck said I wanted to go?” 

“A trip!” said Niffty, seeming to materialize from nowhere. “Will there be bad boys?” 

“What about Angel Dust?” asked Vaggie, and pointed to the Spider Demon who remained silent during their entire exchange. 

Angel Dust shrugged and got up from the sofa. He headed off to the staircase, calling back to the group, “Meh, no thanks. I did my time, thank you very much!” 

“Then it’s settled!” Alastor wrapped his arm around Charlie, causing her to nearly tumble into him, while pointing his microphone to Husk, then Niffty. “The four of us will go to Earth to do a little ‘field research,’ as it were, while you”—he pointed to Vaggie next, who pushed the mic away— “stay with the hotel." 

“I didn’t fucking agree to this!” said Husk, throwing his towel down.  

Niffty ran up the stairs behind Angel Dust, laughing maniacally all the way. “How many knives should I bring?” 

Vaggie put her head in her hands. “This is a bad idea. . .” 

“Ohh, I can’t believe this is happening!” Charlie said, bouncing up and down. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Oh, there’s so much to plan! How do we make reservations? Where do we stay? What should I pack?” She turned to Alastor, suddenly serious. “Do I need to bring sunscreen?” 

Alastor chuckled at her enthusiasm. “I’ll let you worry about those last two, my dear. Leave the rest to me! Everything will be ready by tomorrow morning.” 

______________________________ 

The transportation spell took him all night to complete. There were slight alterations for the trip that made casting easier said than done. Part of the blame, in this regard, lay with him. Alastor knew that as time passed in Hell, so too had it passed on Earth. And he had no intentions of going to the Earth of the present.  

He allowed himself a small shudder as he finalized the last bit of magic. If he was expending his precious energy he would take them to some place—some time—more civilized, more familiar. Perhaps he was tempting fate returning to his old stomping grounds. And sure, a hotel from times past might not be the most effective for Charlie’s particular goal. But considering the circumstances, she had no right to complain. 

After a short breakfast the other five residents gathered back in the common room. Vaggie seemed more annoyed than usual, arms crossed over her chest as she stood by Angel Dust, sleep still in his eyes. Charlie had several bags by her side, including one oversized pink rolling suitcase. A smaller black suitcase was next to Niffty, which if Alastor had to guess was filled with various sharp instruments. Even Husk, despite his protests, had packed a worn leather bag that clinked when he placed it on the ground.  

Alastor brought nothing; it wasn’t as if he couldn’t simply conjure what he needed. He did, however, end up forgoing his usual red blazer and shirt ensemble. The pants remained the same, but he decided a thinner white button-down and red waistcoat would be more manageable. Ironically, not even Hell could compare to the omnipresent heat—and humidity, oh the humidity!—of New Orleans. 

“Did I pack enough?” Charlie asked, for once not in her usual attire. She donned a more casual pair of thin pink sweats, topped with a sweatshirt a few shades darker, decorated with hearts. She tugged on the bright orange and green purse strapped across her shoulder. “I feel like I’m forgetting something.” 

Angel Dust eyed the bags around them. “It’s, what, two days? This should be good.” 

“Six, actually,” said Alastor.  

"WHAT?!" Vaggie shrieked. 

He gave a noncommittal shrug. “With the energy I'll be using transporting all of us, and bags, not to mention the glamours—” 

“What does that have to do with anything?”  

“You can’t possibly expect me to use my valuable resources for a couple of days, my dear,” Alastor said, not to Vaggie, but to Charlie, who was currently taking inventory of what she packed. “That shouldn’t be a problem, right?  It’ll give you more time to get the full ‘human hotel’ experience.” 

“Umm,” Charlie said. “It’s not exactly what I had in mind, but you have a point. With six days I’m sure to get the full hotel experience, and then some! I did have a question, though.” 

“I have many questions,” Vaggie interrupted with a raised hand. 

Alastor shook his head. “Manners! Charlie was first.” 

“You mentioned glamours. I assume for you, me, Niffty and Husk,” said Charlie, not missing a beat. “How do they look? I mean, how are we going to blend in on Earth?” 

“Why don’t I show you instead?” 

Summoning his radio mic, Alastor pointed to the ground. Intricate symbols glowed beneath Charlie’s feet, the physical manifestation of the spell. A mirror sprouted from beneath the floor in front of her and a wave of green light washed over her form. 

“Charlie!” Vaggie reached out. She turned to Alastor and pulled out her spear, pointing it at his face. “What did you do to her, you piece of—!” 

Alastor rolled his eyes. “Oh, relax.” He pushed the weapon away as the light faded revealing Charlie, no worse for the wear. He turned to the blonde-haired demon. “See for yourself!” 

The glamour for her had been simple enough. Her skin, including her black-stained lips, shifted from a porcelain white to a more human peach tone. Unfortunately, her most standout feature, her rose-red eyes, turned an inconspicuous shade of brown.  

Pity. Red suited her so much better.  

Her attire remained unchanged. Something about altering her clothing felt wrong, almost too intimate. He figured they could attain more period appropriate clothing once they arrived. 

Charlie leaned in close to the mirror, taking in her new form. “No one will suspect a thing!” She glanced behind, where Alastor stood watching. “What about you?” 

The same symbols appeared beneath his feet. He had struggled somewhat with his own appearance. Unlike Charlie, who—despite being Hellborn—more-or-less resembled a human, his own demon form was anything but. The claws, the teeth, the deer-like ears: they all had to go.  

He went back and forth on how close his glamour should be to his former life. In the end he went the simple route and replicated how he looked while alive. Dark brown hair replaced his usual striking red and black strands, the style short and unremarkable. His eyes were the same dark shade as his hair, but he allowed himself a pair of red sunglasses in its place.  

“What do you think, my dear?” He bowed ever so slightly. “Convincing enough?” 

Charlie’s eyes widened, but it was difficult for him to decipher her expression. She met his eyes but averted her gaze just as fast. “Yes. Is that . . . how you were when you were human?”  

“Yes, indeedy! The clothes, not so much.” 

Angel whistled low. “Wow, the strawberry pimp is not so . . . strawberry.” 

Vaggie shook her head, unimpressed. “What about Niffty and Husk?” she asked. “How are you having them blend in?” 

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll approve the forms I’ve chosen,” said Alastor with a smirk. 

Niffty nodded so quickly she nearly lost her balance. “Whatever you choose!” 

Husk grumbled a response that no one, not even Alastor, could understand. 

“Well, we’ve wasted enough time already!” the Radio Demon replied. “We really should be on our way!” 

“Wait—!” said Vaggie. 

Alastor tapped the ground three times with the end of the microphone. Four scarlet circles, inscribed with intricate scripts, appeared beneath his and Charlie’s feet, as well as everyone’s baggage. The circles appeared under Niffty and Husk as well, along with the same lime symbols as the glamour.  

“Do take good care of the place while we’re gone, you two!” Alastor called out as he faded from sight. “It would be a pity if there was nothing for Charlie to return to.” 

“I didn’t volunteer for nothing!” exclaimed Angel Dust. 

"I have every faith in you, Vaggie!” Charlie said, her voice taking a far-off tone as she also disappeared. “We’ll be back before you know it!” 

Vaggie turned to Charlie. “Please, be careful up there! And, whatever you do, don’t—” She tried grabbing her hand but found nothing. Whatever warnings she intended to pass along were never heard.  

As quiet as a breath, the group had disappeared. 

______________________________ 

They were definitely in New Orleans. Tiny balconies overlooked the street from the second floors of the buildings surrounding them. His clothes clung to his skin, soaking in every drop of moisture it could hold. Alastor could even make out the smell of spices of Cajun cuisine from a restaurant nearby.  

But something was wrong. 

An oppressive buzz of electrical energy surrounded him, threatening to overwhelm his own magic. He wasn’t unfamiliar with the hum of static in the air—he had been a radio show host, after all, and quite adept with the technology of his time—but it was nothing like this. Smog, as thick as Hell’s and almost as noxious, spewed from automobiles unlike the ones he remembered. There were more of them too, almost as many vehicles as there were people.  

Something had gone horribly wrong. 

Space was simple enough to traverse. Moving from one physical point to another was as easy as a snap of his fingers. Or, in this case, a few taps of his mic. Time, on the other hand, was much trickier. It wasn’t linear like one would imagine, but almost a gordian knot, twisting and turning into itself, with present, future and past all jumbled together until it was hard to distinguish between the three. 

Alastor found Charlie a few paces away, no worse for wear. The bags were neatly by her side. “You all right, my dear?” 

“I should’ve asked what weather to dress for before I started packing,” she said, fanning herself. Even with the thin material, she was clearly regretting her choice of outfit. She might be accustomed to the heat of Hell, but the humidity was something else. “At least our luggage made it. But what about Husk and Niffty? I don’t see them anywhere!” 

“Meow!” 

They looked down. A black cat with rather unusual ears for the average feline glared at them, at him more specifically. 

“Why, Husk, my good fellow!” Alastor said, partly to distract himself from his growing headache. “Why the long face?” 

“Oh my!” exclaimed Charlie. She knelt to pick him up. To Alastor’s surprise, she did not end up getting scratched. “What happened to Husk?!” 

Alastor waved dismissively. “Not to worry! This is simply the result of his glamour.” 

“Yip!” 

A small black and tan mutt nosed his shoe, tail wagging so fast it might fly off. Feathered ears perked at the sound of his voice. Alastor’s grin widened as he scooped up the animal and held it under one arm.  

“I knew I could count on you to stay close by, Niffty.”  

“Niffty!?” Charlie bit her lip, but he could see the corners of her mouth turn up, as if torn between disbelief and excitement. “I mean, I guess this disguises them.” An alarmed look crossed her face. “They won’t stay this way permanently, right?” 

“Of course not, my dear! Probably.” 

“Al!” 

“The spell will revoke once we return to Hell, glamours and all,” said Alastor, rubbing his fingers to his temples.  

During their exchange he caught a glimpse of some passersby taking notice of their group. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t mind putting them in their place, but right now he was not in the mood. Between the drain on his magic and the unpleasant realization of when he was, he wanted nothing more than privacy. 

“We probably should get to our hotel to check in.” 

With Niffty still under his arm, Alastor grabbed Husk’s bag and placed it on top of the black luggage. He also managed to situate the extra bags Charlie packed—why did she have to pack so much?—onto the larger suitcase she had dragged with her. He regretted his decision to turn the two into animals. An extra pair of hands would’ve been welcome.  

“Well, my dear, ready to go? I would offer a hand, but—” 

“Oh, no! Don’t worry about it! We have our hands full with these two.” Charlie juggled Husk awkwardly as she reached for her luggage. “Lead the way!” 

He took a deep breath, strengthening his resolve.  

“Hey, Alastor.”  

The Radio Demon looked back. His grin nearly slipped from his face; his throbbing head momentarily forgotten. She was clearly struggling, suitcase veering off course. Husk had clawed into her sweatshirt and climbed his way up to perch on her shoulder. And yet she smiled, a smile brighter than the sun beating down on them.  

The shades covering his eyes were not enough to protect him.  

“This is unbelievable,” said Charlie. “You’re amazing!” 

She could not know. She could never know. That the great Radio Demon had made an error of this magnitude, of this caliber. She had to believe this was all part of his plan, for this trip she desired, that he foolishly granted. 

Alastor gritted his teeth and forced his grin even wider. 

This was going to be Hell on Earth. 

#hazbin hotel #radiobelle #charlastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #charlie morningstar #chalastor #charlie x alastor #alastor x charlie #platonic chaggie #maybe one sided chaggie at most

[winguontheweb]

I'm having quite the mental experience tonight.

I have relived a childhood formative experience in the 2010 Nickelodeon TV movie, "The Boy Who Cried Werewolf." Hooooooo boy this movie. Not gonna say it's a cinematic masterpiece, it's pretty standard kids' channel TV movie, but like. This movie had a massive effect on my life and why I'm a furry.

Seeing a trailer for it aired on TV when I was 9, by random chance, I was completely entranced by its concept and effects. Then finally finding out about the release date and behind the scenes online, watching it when it first aired and recording it, followed by rewatching it... many times. I was not normal about it for so long yet it really only consisted of me wanting to rewatch it over and over. That was the only way I knew how to react.

After a time, my interest in it died down, the recording got overwritten, and I forgot about it.

And then I had a dream in like, 2013? Around then, about "Thunder Wolves" which was the name came up with in there (I point to my brain). It involved various typical werewolf tropes in a story about an outcast. Wasn't too detailed or vivid, but that dream was just enough for my brain to be completely sold on werewolves forever.

From there, I'm 99% sure I would never have been on the path to becoming a furry I ended up on. Werewolves are why I'm a furry.

Rewatching The Boy Who Cried Werewolf tonight with my girlfriend and others, I got to re-experience that formative moment and realized just how fucking much I still take from this movie in terms of my love of werewolves, the tropes I enjoy, how I enjoy them. Werewolf curses being caused by werewolf blood injection, shifting into wolf form every night rather than ONLY on full moons, the slow transformation at sunset leading into the full form, the struggle of trying to keep it cool when others can potentially see the transformation, changes even in your human form and demeanor after werewolf-ing. Even the visuals of like, the eyes changing and fangs coming in before the full transformation was something that's stuck with me for all my life.

Every fucking memory of this movie came flooding back to me, I knew everything that happened, basically nothing was a surprise to me. Being age 9-10 when I was watching it probably means this movie might be the earliest Vivid memory I have.

The visuals were honestly better than I remembered. Like, not gonna lie, they could've been BETTER for the adult furry-brained cow that I am, but like. They actually had the full wolf form on screen way longer than they had the half-human half-wolf ugly looking transformation stage. I'm also 90% sure that the full wolf form was all practical effects with a suit? Maybe some of it was CGI, 2010 was capable of good CGI, and this is exactly the type of production (especially at Nickelodeon) where I'd imagine they'd do CGI. But instead from what I can tell with the lighting and interactions with the world, I feel it's most likely a practical suit with puppeted/controllable expression in the face and ears. My main complaint is a lot of the wolf scenes DID utilize really quick, choppy cuts that made it hard to see the form in full force

Design-wise the wolf form is a blend of like, ferocious, beastly, scary, but also a bit... cute, in a way? If the wolf transformation wasn't turning into a bloodthirsty monster and instead just turning into Big Ouppy I could see this being made to be made out to be very cute.

Actually yeah also 9 year old Meadow almost certainly was crushing and she didn't even know it, her brain wasn't built for that

Overall, 23 year old Meadow's experience with this: I really really enjoyed it! I started off watching it clutching my pillow from embarrassment and fear that it was going to be total crap, especially seeing so many high school teen drama tropes and painfully obvious foreshadowing, but being with people willing to give it a chance and who also knew the context of why it's important to me was like, suuuuper important for allowing me to even touch it again.

Basically, I am now in an extreme werewolf mood, and feeling things about werewolves I haven't felt in 13 years. This movie is my playbook. I have knowingly or unknowingly used this as my basis for Werewolf Curse things all my life.

I understand myself better than I ever have, having seen this movie.

So anyway...

Any werewolves out there wanna bite me or do a blood transfusion?

Please?

#long post #werewolves #werewolf #damn i wrote this like a blog from the 2010s #or something

[moonlight-prose]

BLOOD ALONG THE MOON

➛ 03. WICKED NIGHTS

a/n: honestly i didn't expect to take a year to ever post about this fic again. if i'm being honest i figured this would become an abandoned series. solely cause the inspo for this character completely left my head. but i couldn't let go of our reporter and their love story with this bat. so while the updates may take time, i'm ready to keep going with this. enjoy.

summary: halloween was always been your least favorite night of the year, but circumstances make it so much worse.

word count: 8.2k+

pairing: bruce wayne x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, cussing, angst, fluff, awkward beginnings, a small bit of romance, murder, death, crime scenes, grief, gratuitous prose about the darkness of gotham.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

Halloween. Your least favorite night of the year.

The city streets were crowded with people; a sight not unusual to the dark pit that Gotham transformed into. But that didn’t mean you had to like it. Even getting to work was a struggle due to the overcrowded platform of the subway and the scarcity of cabs. If you had your way you’d wish everyone would suddenly vanish—giving you a chance to find some reprieve before the onslaught of darkness that plagued this night every year. Although you were foolish enough to hold out hope. Foolish enough to believe that things would be different; that nothing wicked would befall this night.

If only you’d known.

Work was filled with people milling about, some in costumes, some not. You wore your usual black coat—a pair of boots accompanying your look. If someone were to ask you’d claim you were dressed as you were every other day of the year—as a reporter working yourself to the bone. It would be sure to get a laugh from a person or two in this office.

It always did in the end.

Only this time…you weren’t laughing.

The interview you had with Bruce Wayne yesterday continued to bounce around in your mind; the thought of how to write it, still missing. You didn’t want to sound like every other magazine that sprouted nothing but gossip. There’s a reason why you chose to work at the Gotham Gazette. So you could get into the nitty and gritty of the story—no matter how dark it got in the end. To you this was either a story people would talk about forever, or it would remain a forgotten piece that would later wind up in people’s trash cans come morning the next day.

“Day.” Henry leaned against the doorway of his office. A pencil behind his ear, his glasses propped on the end of his nose, and a cup of crappy coffee in his hand. “I need to talk to you.”

You hoped you would have at least five minutes of time to breathe before you were called into what you liked to claim was the equivalent of the principal’s office. But it seemed that Henry Goldfinch decided to pick on you this week more than anyone else.

The interview notes you’d jotted down during the night were crammed into your small black notebook—nearly burning a hole in your pocket. There was no doubt in your mind that he’d ask you about them; intent on seeing a full story by tomorrow night.

“Look Henry I did the best I could with the guy, but he barely even spoke—” You were cut off at the look on his face. “Am I in trouble?”

“I just got a call from Mr. Pennyworth.”

Shit, you were so fired.

“If he wants to retract any statements then I’ll work with what I've got, but you were the one who gave me this story and I think I can do a damn good job on it.”

“Would you let me talk?” Your jaw snapped shut, cutting off the remainder of your ramble; or what you’d like to call reasons why he shouldn’t fire you. “Don’t unpack your things.”

You felt your eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“Apparently you caught Mr. Wayne’s eye,” he said, settling down in his seat. “That call was Mr. Pennyworth giving me notice that Bruce Wayne is heading down to The Gotham Gazette today.”

“What?” you exclaimed, nearly falling into the chair behind you. “What the fuck for?”

“He wants to take you to lunch, kid.”

You fell into the chair, staring wide eyed at Henry who regarded you with a smirk.

Bruce Wayne wanted to take you to lunch. He was coming to your work in order to…pick you up.

Any way you tried to string it together, the news still remained hard to comprehend. Still you caught on to Henry’s words from before. You’d caught Bruce Wayne’s eye and now you were going to have to deal with the consequences of that. This would be the first time in years since he’d left Wayne Tower to do something as mundane as go to lunch. Let alone with someone like you.

“What do I do?” you croaked, trying not to panic as the reporter in you attempted to take over. Was this only a social call? Or did he want to do a follow up interview?

Henry leaned forward, the damned smirk still on his face. “You go to lunch with him. Maybe he likes you.”

“Likes me,” you scoffed. “I’d no sooner learn the identity of The Batman before Bruce Wayne admitted to liking me.”

You wanted answers like any sane person would, but the idea that Bruce Wayne possibly liked you left words unavailable to you. That was the farthest thing from the truth, except coming up with some other alternative left you with nothing yet again. What the fuck were you being called to lunch for? You hoped it was just him personally asking you to rip up the notes you took from yesterday while he watched.

“They’ll be here soon. I’d get your ass moving.”

“Right.” You stood slowly, a feeling of unease spreading through you with every step towards the door. “Did—um—Mr. Pennyworth…did he sound upset?”

Henry scoffed, taking a sip from his coffee. “And here I thought you didn’t give a shit if you pissed people off Day.”

You felt the switch flip in your mind. A reminder of who you truly were on the inside coming back like lightning cracking across your body, and you stood taller in your place. You didn’t care. You never had.

“I don’t.”

“Atta girl.” He tipped his cup slightly your way, watching as you walked back out into the office—the straight set of your spine once again returning.

You didn’t come to Gotham to make friends. You came here to work, to build a career that would outlast you if you were determined enough. Pissing off Bruce Wayne had never been on your list, but you figured it was bound to happen eventually. It was either now or later in life. Thankfully everyone had their hands full worrying about The Batman and the election—so you pissing off the Prince of Gotham would go unnoticed.

Grabbing your bag, you did a quick sweep of your desk to make sure that everything was accounted for before you left. You weren’t sure how long this lunch would take, but you didn’t intend to come back later.

The elevator doors opened once again with a loud creak, thankfully revealing it to be empty. Your heart thrummed in your chest a mile a minute, the tension still in your shoulders as you walked towards what might be the end of your career. While you knew the possibility of this simply being a social call was high, you couldn’t ignore what might very well happen. The ding of your stop brought you out of your daze enough to get out and head towards the front doors.

Glancing up towards the sky you saw the gloominess still remained—a reminder of where you were, what this city was reduced to. While you may have called it pollution of the environment, others would call it weather. After all there was always a difference in opinion when the opinion came a bit too close to the actual truth.

A sleek black car sat directly outside of the doors, a man in a black coat was hunched beneath an umbrella leaning against its side. You recognized him the second he raised his head, his blue eyes practically singeing your skin. Henry really wasn’t kidding when he said Bruce Wayne himself was coming to pick you up from the Gazette. People stopped and stared at the spectacle that was this man. By all means he was considered a hermit from the rumors that spread through Gotham like poison, and yet there he was, meeting with an unknown woman—a reporter nonetheless.

“You don’t seem like the lunch date type of man,” you said, standing far enough under the awning of the building where you didn’t get wet from the rain, but still felt it splatter against your coat.

His lips twitched, eyes skimming your figure before flicking up back to your face. You wanted to ignore the flutter in your chest from that simple gesture, but your body wouldn’t let you. It seemed that whoever Bruce Wayne was…he had an affect on you—a hold that refused to be severed.

“It wasn’t my idea.”

Scoffing, you turned to glare at a man who stood only a few feet away, clearly eavesdropping in on the conversation.

“So you aren’t here to have lunch with me. You’re simply here by the orders of Mr. Pennyworth,” you retorted.

“Alfred,” he said, finally standing to his full height for the first time since you met him. He was taller than you actually anticipated. “He thought it would be a good idea.”

“He thought going on a date with a reporter was a good idea?”

He shrugged slightly, the tension in his shoulders made the movement awkward. “Would you call this a date Miss…”

“Day.”

“Day,” he repeated quietly, his lips forming around the word as if it was already familiar to him. “Interesting name.”

“Nick-name,” you replied.

He nodded slowly, his gaze so intense you found you had to keep looking away. “Your real name isn’t printed on any of your bylines.”

You smiled albeit rather ruefully as you stepped close enough to be underneath his umbrella with him. “I’m afraid you’ll have to earn my real name Mr. Wayne.”

Again you watched—entranced—as his lips twitched slightly. Almost like he wanted to smile, but forgot how exactly to do it. He’d been in pain so long, suffering the grief of losing those he loved most for nearly his entire life, and not once had he learned what the true meaning of happiness was. For some unknown reason, you wanted to be the first one to show him.

“Okay,” he murmured, turning towards the passenger seat door and opening it for you. “And it’s Bruce.”

The words were accompanied with an outstretched hand to help you into the car, his hold simultaneously gentle yet firm as you sat. Your eyes met his briefly, something flickering to life between your gaze, before the door shut entirely and you were left in silence for a few brief seconds. It gave you enough time to catch what little breath you had in your chest—the interaction far too electric for someone like you.

Get some fucking sense.

You weren’t the type of person Bruce Wayne would fall for. One day he would find someone as wealthy as him, someone who knew his life due to shared experience. You hated those fucking words with a burning passion. Shared experience with people never went over well in your line of work. For a reporter, shared experience meant you had nothing original to say. It meant that you were the same as everyone else around you and to you that was damnation itself.

“Where would you like to eat?”

The question was barely loud enough for you to hear over the traffic and rain, but his soft tone caught you in its hold until you were solely focused on him. Once again that unfamiliar spark of energy crackled in the air. You were afraid that if this continued, you’d walk out of this lunch date with a newfound crush on Gotham’s Prince. That thought alone was enough for you to tear your gaze away—settling in the seat and staring through the front window.

“You invited me, Mr. Wayne. Why don’t you pick?”

He fell silent, hands shifting from his lap to the steering wheel and back again. “I don’t know many places to eat around Gotham anymore.”

Of course Bruce Wayne of all people would eat at home day in and day out. Thus was the luxury of having a personal chef in the Wayne Tower. Although you couldn’t stop the small grin from forming at how funny you found all of this.

Going to lunch with this man. It should have been absurd—almost laughable—but there you were. About to tell him to drive into the heart of the city just to take you to your favorite diner. Reporters would murder you just to stand in your spot. To spend mere moments with him. Yet it seemed that all you had to do was exist.

Rather than dwell on the moment any longer, you told him where to take you and it seemed that he knew the city a lot better than you expected. Pulling out of the spot with ease, he swiftly swung the car around in a rather illegal u-turn before making a quick right turn. You had to hand it to him…he knew how to handle a car. Part of you wanted to call it sexy, but you killed that echo in your head before it could manifest into something else.

Feelings were dangerous in your line of work—having seen the pain several reporters went through when they fell into bed with lethal people. You wouldn’t wind up like them. All you could allow in your life was friendship, nothing more. A friendship with Bruce Wayne wouldn’t hurt you. Not when he refrained from speaking to anyone, let alone the worst of the worst that roamed Gotham.

He turned another corner, the rain getting worse the further you traveled into the city. Driving in this weather would have stopped you from going, but it didn’t seem to phase him. He took it in stride, focusing intently on the road with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting between you. It would be so easy to pick it up, to run your fingers over the lines in his palm. And for a moment you indulged. You imagined what being with him would actually feel like.

Would he treat you the same way? Or would you suddenly become special. You couldn’t picture him treating anyone in a loving manner, let alone you and that’s where the fantasy died.

“That’s it,” you said, pointing to the flickering sign out front that only read DEM as opposed to its usual bright DEMETER’S TABLE name.

“Is it closed?”

You laughed, barely a puff of air, but you knew he heard it. Opening the door you ignored the downpour that threatened to soak you down to your very soul, and patiently waited until he got out himself. The expression on his face caught you slightly off guard as you watched him get out. You would have figured it was nothing—having seen him wear a grim expression all throughout your interview with him—but this looked different.

“I know it’s not the best place, but the food is—”

“I could have opened the door for you.”

That killed the worry filling your chest in an instant. He wasn’t upset that you brought him to what looked like the shittiest diner in all of Gotham. In fact, he could care less about that. He wanted to open the door for you…like a gentleman.

You nearly laughed in his face, but the rain was starting to seep into your shoes, causing your whole body to shiver and he fared no better. It caused his hair to stick to his face, the coat doing absolutely nothing to keep him dry.

The sign from the diner cast a luminescent glow across his face, highlighting his high cheekbones. You found yourself wanting to brush your lips across them. Though it was daytime and the sun remained stuck behind the clouds somewhere, you still felt as if night encased you in its cold embrace. Yet standing there with him in the rain, keeping his stare, you felt warmth flicker in your chest. As if he had placed a piece of the sun in your heart.

“You don’t have to do that with me,” you said softly, turning away before you grew too attached to this odd man.

The bell above the door rang throughout the building, alerting her of your presence. Your friend Dem stood behind the counter, her graying black hair wrapped up in a loose bun—a pen going directly through it to hold it in place. She looked up at the sound, a broad smile pulling at her wrinkled cheeks and bringing to light the soft lines around her eyes. When you first moved to Gotham she was the person who practically took you under her wing.

“Day! You are soaked hun. You shouldn’t be out in this weather.” She walked around the counter, immediately handing you a hot steaming cup of coffee. “Especially not since you just got over pneumonia. What are you trying to do, kill your…”

She trailed off, her eyes growing wide as the bell rang again and Bruce entered behind you, looking worse than you did. You knew the shock she was feeling, having gone through it about thirty minutes ago yourself, and did your best to drag her back to the present.

“Got a free table?” you joked, knowing the diner was practically empty.

That seemed to do it. The smile—though hesitant this time around—was back as she gestured to the second booth by the door. “I’ll be right with you sweetie.”

“Thanks Dem.”

You slid into the old brown booth, feeling your clothes stick to the fake leather. “Here.” You pushed the mug of coffee his way. “It’ll help with the cold.”

“I’m okay.” He reached up to push it back, but you held it in its place.

“I’m not asking Wayne.” Smiling, you leaned back. “Besides…can’t have one of the most important people in Gotham getting sick on my watch. I’d definitely be fired for that.”

Without another word, he lifted the mug to his lips, placing them directly where yours were mere moments ago. The spark flared to life again, cracking like a familiar bolt of lightning through your body and burning you to the core. Looking away, you clasped your hands together in an effort to seal in any heat that might try to escape your body. You weren’t sure if you liked the feelings that were causing your body to go haywire. For all you knew, you could have been imagining this entire thing.

You wouldn’t put it past your mind to play tricks on you as you sat across from him.

“Why this place?” Once again, his question caught you off guard.

“What?”

He set the mug down, pushing it your way. “Why this diner?”

His blue eyes were fixed on your face, as if attempting to see past the shield you wore day in and day out. When a person suffered enough pain to last an entire lifetime, they tended to become closed off. You were that person and from what you could see…so was he. The temptation to ask him how he survived through the pain, how he managed to come out of it at the end somewhat of a person, was on the tip of your tongue.

But you figured it was better to stay silent—keep it to yourself until the right moment came up.

“It was the first place I came to when I first moved to Gotham. I used to live a block away from here.” Sipping on the coffee, you tried to busy yourself to avoid his piercing gaze. “Though, I had to move because my apartment got broken into while I was sleeping.”

Something flashed in his eyes. Anger? No…something else.

Clearing your throat, you continued in the hopes of appeasing your now racing heart. “Anyways. Dem took me in, she took care of me and it felt nice. So I stayed.”

Before he could reply, Dem arrived with two plates in her hands. You smelled the burger before she even placed it on the table—your stomach clenching with hunger. Her specialty that you first ordered when you came here. It made your heart warm seeing her place it in front of Bruce, her smile kind and welcoming. No matter who he was, Dem always saw the good in people. Saw what they needed and willingly gave it to them without question.

She was a mother to the strangers that wandered into her diner.

“More coffee?” she asked, staring at the single mug that sat empty in the center of the table.

You noticed she didn’t ask if you’d like a second cup, her body language telling you enough. She thought this was a date. You weren’t sure if you should correct her or not.

“Please,” Bruce said, interrupting your thoughts. He handed her the mug, never asking for an extra one, but seemingly happy to share with you.

Once again your heart fluttered and this time…you let it.

“Dem’s burgers are possibly the best thing to be created.”

His lips pulled up in a small barely there grin. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“You should,” you replied, smiling around a bite of your fry. “As a reporter all I have is my word.”

You didn’t catch the way he looked at you, his eyes shining with something that hadn’t been there in a very long time. Instead you focused on gazing out the window at the rain. The way it transformed the city into something dangerous. Yet even through the darkness you could see it. The small hints of the light seeping through the clouds and shining down on an otherwise grim place.

Carole King played on the old speakers—a favorite of Dem’s you learned early on—and it created a soft symphony of warmth as it mixed with the rain. You wanted to stay there forever. In a place of comfort and love.

You’d even include Bruce in it too.

He bit into the burger, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as the taste burst across his tongue. The sight caused your heart to lurch in your chest, warmth spreading up your neck and into your face. And you tried your best to shove it down. How ridiculous of you to find the sight hot, but there you were. Speechless, watching as he enjoyed one of your favorite meals.

Dem’s voice humming to the song snapped you out of your ogling; you looked to her to find something else to focus on. Except the small knowing smile she wore on her face and the wink she threw your way did nothing to help your situation. Rather than dwell on it, you began to eat. Content to remain silent until the both of you finished.

The singular cup of coffee was set down in between you two, dragging your gazes back to one another. You glanced at the mug, then back at him. As if that was the defining factor of whether or not this was a date. He chewed thoughtfully on a fry, his eyes still on you, while you mulled over whether or not you could magically turn the one mug into two.

It turned out to be an impossible feat, but one you found you didn’t mind.

“So tell me—” You pried your trench coat off, draping it over the back of the booth. He’d discarded his thirty minutes ago, his black button down now rolled to his elbows. “What’s Bruce Wayne been up to?”

His eyebrow quirked, lips twitching like he was fighting back a smile. “This isn’t a second interview is it?”

You shrugged. “I’ve gotten enough for my article already. This is me asking.”

“Hm.” He leaned forward, hands clasped together and hair falling back into his eyes. “And who are you exactly?”

The smile you’d been fighting for an hour came through. “I don’t think you’ve earned that yet.”

The coffee mug had been refilled three times now, your energy coupled with the spark of attraction (you were still denying) between you brought life back into your body. While he didn’t disclose much about himself—saying bits and pieces here and there—you still found yourself engrossed in his words. You wanted to know more, to see the man behind the mask that was Bruce Wayne.

Maybe if you were lucky enough he’d show you his true self one day. For right now you were content to remain just as you were.

A reporter who shied away from any aspects of love, sitting with a man who was discovering what the meaning of joy was all over again.

“I can wait,” he murmured, his eyes no longer resembling the cloudy skies outside. You could see the lightness in them—the shining blue unlike anything you’d ever seen before.

You glanced down at the mug, seeing something in it you hadn’t before. For whatever unknown reason Bruce Wayne—the man who had been reclusive his entire life—trusted you. Even though he didn’t say it outright he didn’t have to. You saw it well enough and something told you…he knew you could see it. He wanted you to see it.

Time was slowly ticking away, reminding you that you had a job to get back to, but you still remained. Sitting with your elbows pressed to the table—unconsciously trying to get as close to him as possible. Maybe if you never left the world would melt away. If you became a permanent part of this diner, the city that happily ate away at every resident would leave you be. You’d be forgotten in a place that thrived on the lost and forlorn.

“Why me?” you inquired after the beat of silence threatened to swallow you whole.

The soft lilting notes of Billie Holiday echoed in the empty diner. Dem was nowhere to be found and the only two remaining customers were you and Bruce. Still sharing that singular cup of cold coffee. It had created a ring on the table, your lipstick a slight stain on the white mug. The color smudged off from where Bruce had placed his lips. Sharing a hint of a kiss that would never be.

He leaned back in the booth, no longer stiff—the nature of a man who had hid from society for years now traded in for someone different. His body language was enough to make you stare. Transfixed on the way his shirt continued to hug his figure even though it had dried an hour ago.

“Why not you?”

You huffed. “Answering my question with another question. And here I thought I was the only reporter in the room.”

“I’ve had my fair share of interviews.”

“None that I’ve read.” You slid your plate to the side and clasped your hands together in the hopes of looking as intrigued as you felt. “Do tell Mr. Wayne.”

The tension was beginning to set in his shoulders again. A small overlay to the man that lingered beneath. As if he was bringing up a mask he constantly carried with him. He hid constantly day in and day out, but right now he didn’t sit before you the Prince of Gotham, but instead a man who was trying to relearn how to live. Whether you wanted to admit it to yourself or not…Bruce Wayne was like you in ways you couldn’t have imagined.

“Alfred keeps them from printing.” The admission alone was enough for you to change the subject, but he continued to talk—cracking open yet another small sliver to the impenetrable armor he wore. “People they don’t…they always look for something wrong.”

You nodded, digging your nail into your palm. “Flaws are sometimes easier to sell.”

The sad truth of being a journalist is more often than not people weren’t looking for the truth. At least not in Gotham. They wanted something to sell. A piece of the person that one would deem too vulnerable to be shown to the rest of the world. They wanted to satiate the greed that clawed its way to the front. Rarely was the truth their only reason for writing a story.

“You’re not interested in flaws.” His eyes grew softer, hand splaying on the table to trace a random shape as he watched you. Saw through the facade you wore. He dug right down to the depths of your persona and dragged it to the surface—a relenting and brutal act.

Yet you wanted it to happen all the same.

“I like the truth.” You distracted yourself with the shape of his finger, the length of it as it shifted. “It sounds better.”

For a split second you allowed your eyes to flicker up, to meet his in the dim lights of the diner, and you finally caught hold of that niggling emotion. The one that held you captive in your own right. You liked him. Despite only meeting him yesterday, you found yourself drawn in by his haunted eyes. The same ones that practically burned a hole in your skin, until he was forever a part of your form.

Bruce Wayne felt familiar to you.

Not in the way that a stranger finds a face in the crowd familiar. Not even in the way an old friend would feel seeing someone from their past once more.

He was familiar in the way two souls separated beyond time and space were familiar. You couldn’t quite explain it, but somehow you knew these eyes that traced the lines and curves of your face. Committing you to memory. You were two distant beings made up of different particles of the universe. Yet there in that diner you found one another—as if gravity had dragged your cells together all along.

Two halves of a celestial being finally forming to be one.

You almost wanted to laugh at the notion that Bruce Wayne and you had anything in common. Let alone that there was any physical attraction between you.

But there it was. The truth you’d been searching for all along.

You could almost laugh at how fucked it all was.

How horrifically beautiful.

Night was beginning to settle over the city, calling to the horrors that lingered in the shadows. Prompting them to finally emerge for the one night where fear ran rampant in the streets of Gotham. Being scared on Halloween wasn’t an unusual occurrence, but this year things felt different. You could practically taste the blood that would run through the grime filled streets come morning. The same one that you would later have to report on.

Bruce stood beside his car next to your apartment building. You had directed him here after another hour spent in Dem’s diner barely speaking yet saying more than you would have liked. For some reason he was able to unearth more about you than you had found out in the entirety of yesterday’s interview with him. If being a Wayne didn’t wind up working out for him, he’d make a killing out of being an investigative journalist.

You told him as much before you left.

“Got any plans for tonight?” you asked, already knowing the answer you’d receive.

He looked up to the slightly darkened sky, at the way that the clouds did nothing to allow even slivers of the sunset to break through. You had to hand it to the city. There was some irony in the way even nature plagued the city in darkness. As if its legacy was always meant to be this. An abyss that drowned everyone within.

A barely there quirk appeared on his lips. “I’ll be out of the city tonight.”

Convenient.

The thought crossed your mind of asking him to join you for a lonesome dinner and half a bottle of wine. But the line had been drawn in the sand long before you agreed to accompany him for lunch. An invisible border you couldn’t cross. He was a Wayne. A part of a world you could only reach through second hand stories and gruesome aftermaths.

If the lunch had been more than strangers sitting across from one another, you would have joked about your house being Capulet and his Montague. But something told you irony wasn’t his strong suit. Nor would it favor you being able to see him another time. That is…if he even wanted to see you. For all you could tell this was merely a social call placed on his shoulders by Alfred—the man you came to see as Bruce’s father figure.

“Well…”

“Would you—”

You smiled, feigning being professional for the sake of your giddiness. “You go first.”

He cleared his throat. “Would you be available in a few days?”

“Oh…” Rather than take it easy on him, you decided that the best course of action was to jab at his wall just a bit. Just to see if something would crumble even further. So with a smile you stepped closer, watching the rise and fall of his chest quicken just a bit more. “That doesn’t sound like Alfred speaking.”

A heavy breath left his lungs—washing warm across your skin. “It’s not.”

“So this is you asking?”

He nodded, probably irritated with the way you were clearly teasing him. But that’s the thing. He let you tease him. He gave in to your small ruse and let it play out until you felt like you were finished.

If you could get away with this, who knows what else you’d be able to get away with. Perhaps calling him a stupid nickname. Or even getting to know his favorite color.

Something told you it was brown.

“What’s your favorite color?”

His eyebrows rose, mouth parted slightly as if you’d thrown him for a bigger loop than anyone had before. And much to your own surprise…he answered. Honestly.

“Black.”

Ah…you were close.

“Tuesday. The rush of Halloween will be over and my paper should give me some free reign. I’ll be available then.”

Another solemn nod as if you just informed him that you were attending a funeral for a recently departed loved one. You learned to realize that his nods were simply a part of his personality. Eventually you would be able to decipher what each one meant, what they were attempting to say without using words. His voice seemed to be an afterthought—actions speaking louder than words could say.

“Tuesday it is,” he replied with a soft hesitant smile. You wanted to see it again, ask him to never frown again, but this was merely a fleeting moment in the grand expanse of things.

He stood there for a minute more as if leaving was the last thing he wanted. Then got into his car, turned the engine once, and drove down the street. And you watched him disappear into the already dark horizon. The day never existed to begin with, but the storm wouldn’t stop the chaos of the night. So you gave one last glance to the street before heading inside, ready to hole yourself in your locked apartment til sunrise the next day.

The shrill ringing of your cell phone startled you from your small nap on the couch. A throw blanket that was a mishmash of colors was thrown over your body, a half empty wine bottle on the coffee table and the book Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde face down beside it. Ever since finding it in the Wayne tower, you began to look through the old text. With the silly hope that you would find pieces of Bruce Wayne in the words.

“What?” you grumbled, rubbing a hand over your face to rouse yourself from the groggy state of sleep. Your brain was sluggish, body content to remain on the couch for many more hours, but Henry’s grim voice startled you awake.

“The Mayor’s dead.”

You sat up. “What the fuck do you mean the Mayor’s dead Henry?”

A quick glance at the clock told you it was nearing the middle of the night. The noise outside still persisted though. People always partied the worst on this night. Especially in this city.

“If this is a joke—”

“Shut up and listen will you.” Your mouth clamped shut, eyes falling to the book. “They found him in his home. And it’s gruesome. Whoever did it was a right fucked up person, but I can’t get there at this time. The streets are too packed.”

The breath caught in your throat, even as your eyes stung with exhaustion. “And I’m closer to the scene.”

“It’s a favor and it’s a big one Day.”

You sighed. “I’ll leave in ten. Who’s on the scene?”

“Gordon.”

Good. Gordon never gave you shit for being a reporter like the other detectives did. Many wanted your kind out of Gotham all together simply because of how good you were at getting your nose into places it shouldn’t be. With Gordon there at least you would have a chance to do some meaningful reporting—or at least help where you could in figuring this out.

Henry listed out a few details they told him, what was going to occur within the next few days. But all you could think about was Bruce. You’d miss your chance to see him Tuesday after all. Too stuck in the midst of a city wide crime scene that would take up more or less all of your time. Which left him on the outs. You scribbled down in your black notebook a note to call him and ask for a rain check.

At least then one good thing in your life wouldn’t disappear without a trace.

You grabbed your coat, shoved your arms in the sleeves, and locked up your apartment as the weight of the news rested heavy on your shoulders.

With the death of the Mayor came an investigation. One that would no doubt lead to more bloodshed in the streets and leave a city divided amongst itself. You had heard about shit like this happening in Gotham, but you were never around to see it yourself. Yet there you were. Right in the thick of it with no other option but to see the chaos through.

People filled the streets. Some drunk, some not. Which didn’t make getting to the scene easier. You fought through the crowds, managed to catch a train down there, and somehow came out unscathed. And above in the night sky…his sign hung like a full moon. It called out to the chaos of the night, and made a promise to those who liked the cover of darkness that they would only be safe for so long.

“Shit,” you muttered, feeling the rain strike against your cheek. It stung as you crossed the street.

Police cars lined the sidewalk, sirens blaring and bright, and for a moment…there was light in Gotham. You could barely see in front of you, but at least they illuminated the pathway to the front entrance. Many of them were taping off the building, others standing around and gazing at the sky—probably asking themselves if he would show up.

“If it ain’t Miss Day!”

You felt the weight lighten as you reached the top of the building steps. “Officer Martinez. Funny seeing you here.”

“You come to talk to me tonight?”

The smile was involuntary on your lips as he let you head in with him, holding the door open for you. Martinez always had a soft spot for you when things like this befell the city. After all he was usually around when it came to Gordon and with a job like yours, you ran into cops a bit too often for your liking. But Martinez was the exception. He brought you coffee on long nights at crime scenes, cracked jokes at the worst times, and even drove you home if he was around.

“Of course,” you said with a grin, bumping his shoulder. “I’m here to write a piece about the greatest cop in the city.”

He scoffed. “Flattery will get you everywhere chica.”

“Do you know what happened?”

Another flight of steps revealed even more cops scattered around the place. You could see the flash of a camera in the distance, whispered voices filling the air as you entered. Several cops gave you nasty glances, scoffing to themselves at the fact that you were allowed to enter. A reporter. Someone beneath them. To them you were the vulture that came to pick apart the mess they were left to clean.

“All I know is what Gordon told me. And even that’s not much.”

“Where is Gordon?”

Martinez shrugged. “Went out to fetch someone. Figure another detective.”

One more step into the room and you felt it. The pressure in your chest, the pinch of pain in your side where you were still healing. As if crime in Gotham called to crime. A horrid likeness that permeated the air. When Henry said the scene was gruesome he wasn’t kidding. You were ready to bolt the second you could smell the blood—the sight nearly too much for your stomach to take.

“Fuck,” you murmured, eyes wide and body wracked with fear.

“It’s not easy to see.”

“He’s…oh fuck.”

You didn’t need words to know Martinez was concerned about you. His eyes told you enough. They lingered a bit too long, tried to see past your mask you quickly pulled up when it came to scenes such as this. If you were lucky you would make it out tonight without any nightmares.

You were rarely lucky.

Someone called his name, causing him to leave you alone in the room with a few other people. Yet all you could focus on was the Mayor. The message scrawled across his head screamed so loud you could practically hear the voice of the killer. It punched right through your chest, made you pay attention without any barriers. Without mercy.

“What the fuck?”

You turned when someone’s voice filtered through the air, disbelief clear in their tone. Perhaps they found something worse. Something that would make you want to unsee everything that happened tonight. But what came to your attention was not what you expected. Your heart dropped to your stomach, a flutter going through your body, as the sight of him filled your view once more.

For some reason he seemed bigger in the room. He towered over everyone here, eyes still striking against the dark color of his suit. For a moment you couldn’t breathe, nerves filling your body with each heavy thump of his boot against the hardwood floor. How he would react to seeing you again took over your mind. Yet you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe…he forgot about you.

Maybe to him you were just another lost soul in a sea of tragedy.

Someone he saved once and didn’t think twice about second.

He stopped midstep, gaze falling to your form, and for a split second…he stiffened entirely. Recognition flashed in his eyes before something darker took its place. You were reminded of the night he dragged you home, the night he held you as you cried about death. As you begged him to keep you alive.

You wondered if he was thinking about that too. If you stepped close enough maybe you could see it in his eyes. Fragments of a memory that still burned bright and alive in your mind—a bad movie you could never turn off. So there you sat in the theater. Forced to watch it replay.

Maybe if you asked he’d sit with you. Keep you company in the darkness.

“Daywalker.”

Gordon had a habit of using the formal version of your nickname. A call sign that seemed to jolt you from your own mind—eyes snapping from The Batman to the man standing beside him. He regarded you with a confused look. A question lingering on his tongue.

One you quickly overlapped with one of your own.

“What the hell happened Gordon?”

His eyes went soft. “Chaos.”

The pain in your side flared to life again. “And what’s he doing here?”

The thump of his boots echoed behind you as he circled the scene. No doubt taking notes about what happened, what was left behind for them to find. Gordon held up a green envelope, writing scratched into the paper as if it was left there in anger—the pen nearly breaking through. A formal address to the man who still remained behind you. A call out to The Batman himself.

Either this guy was insane…or he understood what The Bat would react to.

“So all this…was for him?”

Eyes burned into your skin when you said the words, another thump letting you know he still remained, still listening in the shadows of the room.

Gordon shrugged. “That’s what he’s here to find out.”

You nodded, stepping back to let Gordon do his job with the others as you surveyed the room yourself. Every once in a while your gaze fell back to him. How he stalked about with purpose, each step measured and calculated. He understood the tension in the room, how cops hated that he stood amongst them.

After all, he fell lower into their likeability category than you. To them you were the vulture, but he was the thief. He took their image—their reputations—and made it worse. He took their jobs right under their noses. Not because they couldn’t do it, but because with him it would come to a final end.

You caught bits and pieces of the conversations at hand, heard how the Mayor must have died, but your attention still remained with The Bat. How he stood wary with his back to the window. Every now and then you swore his gaze fell to you, but that might have been your imagination. Your mind hadn’t stopped racing since you stepped past the threshold; the crime scene doing nothing but wracking your body with fear and anxiety. Two things that were an enemy to a good reporter.

“Killer may have come through the skylight.”

You glanced up, eyes tracing the metal lines of the glass above and tried to imagine the scene playing out before you. How they’d get in, how they’d hide. In your head it matched up, but something felt off—as if the scene itself was too perfect. Too pristine for you to gather anything notable.

Gordon’s voice peaked your interest, drawing you closer. “What does a liar do when he’s dead?”

“There’s a cipher too.”

Something flickered in the back of your mind. You remembered Henry having a book of riddles on his desk. Some cheap Christmas gift someone in the office got him in the hopes of giving their boss a sense of humor. You had flipped through it once or twice while waiting for him to show up for a meeting. But you could recall the same riddle being printed with all the others—in a list of nearly three hundred, you remembered that one for its dark flair.

“Lies,” you murmured to yourself, attention forced to the outburst towards Gordon.

But it was the darker and much deeper voice behind you that sent a cold shiver down your spine. “He lies still.”

The answer to the riddle.

Yet even that didn’t tell you much. Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t going to give Gotham the easy way out. No, you could see the darkness lingering in the distance. The threat of something more on the way. And there wouldn’t a fucking thing anyone in this room could do about it. Except for him. His name was on the envelope, his sign in the sky and soon…Gotham would be turning to him for more than just an answer to a riddle.

“Happy fuckin’ Halloween,” the commissioner spat, turning away from the scene with enough anger to rival the killer. Grief plagued the air and while you should have stayed, asked for statements, all you wanted to do was go home.

So you bid Gordon goodnight with the promise to call him tomorrow for more than just this. Your stomach was in knots, bile filling the back of your throat, but you could barely move. His gaze still burned a hole in your back, watching as you left on semi-steady feet—the wound that lingered now a reminder that you were nearly this person. You were nearly another story in a newspaper.

Martinez came up beside you as you stepped out into the hall, a cup of hot coffee in his hands. He must have grabbed it from down the street, because he held his own. The rain still pounded outside striking loudly against the window but it had become a drowned out echo. Simply background noise to a tragedy that kept you locked tight in its grasp. You could see the headline of tomorrow’s paper. The words bold and loud amidst the gray color—a color that matched the sky.

GOTHAM MOURNS.

“Want me to give you a ride home?” Martinez asked, eyes still plagued with concern. You wanted to wipe it from his face, place his carefree smile back where it belonged. Except no one would be smiling tonight.

You sucked in a cold breath, sensing the presence of The Bat as he followed Gordon out to the hallway.

“Yeah. A ride would be nice.”

Tomorrow was a new day, but the truth still remained, waiting to break free. Darkness ran through Gotham so deep it would take prying the streets up to see it, but something told you exactly that would happen. This was not the end of the blood that would turn this city red.

It was only the beginning.

#bruce wayne x f!reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #the batman x f!reader #the batman x reader #the batman x you #battinson x reader #battinson x you #the batman #my writing

[aaaaafro]

Jihy-O so perfect you - TWICE - Jihyo x M! Reader (+18)

tw: slight boobjob, thighjob, a bit of daddy kink?

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GOD JIHYO ❤️🥳

It baffles you just how people seem to give appreciation towards someone's distinct features, especially for idols.

For example; Nayeon's bunny teeth and fluffy cheeks, Jeongyeon and Tzuyu's her towering height and long legs, Momo and Sana's great body, Mina's peach, Dahyun's amazing hip proportions, Chaeyoung's small frame.

Then there's Jihyo and her humongous orbs which are currently wrapped around your spit-covered member, as she uses them to deliver you waves of pleasure that could immediately make anyone climax in a matter of seconds but not you, not now.

Since you're so caught up in your own thoughts that you've completely ignored one of life's greatest sensations, that is Jihyo's breasts.

"Is this not good enough for you daddy?!" Her soft penitent tone cuts you off from your trance.

"Ah fuck! No! no! baby, you're doing great!" You tried salvaging the situation but she'd already been demoralised.

"W-what can I do to p-pleasure you better daddy?!" Jihyo's teary eyes and needy plea makes you regret ever drifting off on your thoughts midway through your session.

And yet it made you think about something, as you see her doubling her efforts of massaging your rod with her mountains, it then hits you.

"You know what baby, I think there's something."

Jihyo's eyes are suddenly beamed with enthusiasm as she awaits your orders. Grabbing a hold of her hands to stop her pumps with her boobs, you then pulled her up. Sitting her down your lap.

"A-are my boobs not got enough for daddy?!" It's honestly such a ridiculous question if you think about it, but it's needy Jihyo so you shouldn't really be surprised.

"No baby, your boobs are great..." You reassured her while massaging the very thing.

"But daddy wants to appreciate all of you, coz' my baby is 'oh so perfect". Jihyo's smile couldn't be more contagious as she blushed profusely before  easing up her weight.

You placed her sideways on your lap carefully setting your cock in between her thighs, this sparks an interest in Jihyo's eyes as she starts pressing her legs tighter. That caused your member to twitch and Jihyo then starts bouncing on it.

With the absence of her underwear and her juice seeping out, it didn't take long for your member to be covered in her slick.

"Is this good enough d-dadd–Ah-Uhmm." Jihyo perhaps was looking for some sort of praise or something but got cut off when you took her nub in your mouth while pinching the other one.

Her soft wet flesh constricting, bouncing, pumping your length as her wet core rubs all over it is just what you're thinking about earlier.

The people always appreciate Jihyo's breast but not her lower half, though they're just as perfect as her upper half. You have nothing but respect for Jihyo's great work ethic, as seen with her body transformation throughout the years and you're nothing more than just amazed at how she's still doing all the work to improve it.

"Ah fuck baby, I'm close!" A moan from you wakes Jihyo up in her lustful trance as she just continues to bounce on your length while you snack on her nubs.

"D-daddy, finish in me!" Her needy little eyes are just as eager as her cunt.

Jihyo, with such ease due to her moisten entrance slides in your member like it was nothing though that's not to be said for her reaction as her mouth gapes open, letting out a sultry, airy tone that never fails to tickle your ear.

"O-oh! Daddy~."

Like a kid on a brand-new trampoline she starts bouncing joyfully. To which you'd suspect that she's tired having to start your session forty minutes ago but then again we're talking about Jihyo who's one if not the most perseverant idol you've ever known.

Hell, she'd even out-dance Momo despite the disadvantages she got during that power dance relay but that's what makes her 'Oh so perfect.'

As much as you'd like to focus on appreciating her lower half you couldn't help but get lost in the way her orbs bounce in front of you, she's so fucking gorgeous.

It's just like her fans advertised her to be 'God Jihyo'.

"S-shit baby, I'm so fucking close!" You warned as she continues to bounce on your rod before replying;

"Hold on a little longer daddy~, I'm so close as well–wait, fuck–I'm cumming! Aaaahhh~.”

With her moan flooding the walls of her room, you just followed along climaxing right after hers. The two of you rode off your orgasms clinging onto one another trying your best to catch your breath.

"Was I a good girl?" Yet again she hasn't dropped her act.

"Oh baby, you're Jihy-O so perfect." The two of you sealed the deal with a torrid kiss before cuddling with one another.

#twice #twice jihyo #park jihyo #jihyo smut #twice x reader #male reader

[uchihagods]

THE SUIT, U. OBITO/FEMALE READER. | MODERN AU, FANFICTION.

warnings: obito’s a business man, teasing, praise kink, unprotected sex, obito’s in love with his so, as always, breeding kink, duh, he’s an uchiha after all, switch!obito/reader, oral sex, m!receiving, fingering, kinda face-fucking, breasts appreciation, overstimulation, i think that’s all, heavy smut in general.

wc: 3.1k

character/s: obito uchiha n.n; featuring: the uchihas, especially madara.

beta’d by: @obitosryuu <33

—,,

IMPORTANT!… please, feel free to ignore if any of these topics trigger you; read at your own risk!

“SO, what do you think?”

At the sound of your husband’s voice, you averted your gaze from the screen of your phone just to almost choke on your own saliva at the sight of the now changed Obito.

The dark-haired man was standing next to the door of your shared living room dressed all elegant with the outfit he only wore for specific and special occasions like the one he had tonight, in a couple of hours if you’re not mistaken.

Every once in a while the Uchiha family, or rather those members who were involved in the family business, reunited in expensive restaurants or in their own offices to discuss whatever they discussed there. Since you weren’t part of the business, you were completely unaware of what they talked about.

The only thing you knew for sure was that Obito always came back late from those meetings, normally in a bad mood or stressed and willing to fuck the shit out of you for hours until your pussy couldn’t hold any more of his seed.

Your cheeks began to redden when certain images of the endless nights full of lust popped up in your mind… How your beautiful, sweet and caring husband transformed into a dirty, degrading and harsh man.

You shook your head to focus on what was important now, which was how fucking hot the Uchiha looked in that new suit you bought him yesterday.

It was a pretty common suit, though.

Since Obito tended to wear black when it came to elegant events, you decided to change this habit a bit by choosing the dark-gray suit that caught your eye some time ago along with the turtleneck shirt you fell in love with that same day.

And boy, you did make a good choice. A splendid one, actually.

The way the fabric hugged the muscles of his arms spoke for itself, and don’t get me started on the way his tie was loosened thanks to his open-collared dress shirt, allowing the curious eyes to contemplate a piece of the black turtleneck beneath it.

“Makes you look taller, that’s for sure…” You confessed after some thought, biting your lower lip slightly. “I just knew this color would suit you.”

“Isn’t it too tight, though?” Obito wondered, completely oblivious of your hungry gaze.

“It squeezes you in the right places.” Your eyes were locked in his softened crotch while saying this, not even trying to hide how turned on you were already.

“Uhm, you’re… Are you staring at my dick?” You hummed, resting your chin on your palm. “Oh, uh… W-Why?”

“Why not?”

You took advantage of his speechlessness to stand up from the couch and go right in front of him with a seductive expression written all over your face, your hands reunited behind your lower back as your lips got closer to his own to murmur: —“I wanna suck you off so badly, baby… Would you let me do that for you, hm?”

Obito’s mouth parted in surprise at the sudden words that had reached his ears, eyebrows raised and his whole body tensed. “I-I have a meeting in an hour, we c-can’t…”

“All I need is thirty minutes.” You stated convincingly, your hand making its way to his hard on to caress it through his pants, earning a low grunt from your husband and a slight buck of his hips searching for more. “See? You want it too.”

“Fucking…” He panted the moment your fingers enclosed his heavy bulge as much as the clothes let you. Well, he couldn’t leave the house with a boner, could he? “Fuck, just quit it with the touches already so I can take this damn suit off.”

“No!” You stopped your ministrations at his stupid last statement but without removing your hand entirely. “Don’t you dare, Obito Uchiha.”

“You’re gonna make a mess, and while you’ll have time to shower after we’re done, I certainly won’t. God, I shouldn’t even give in to this.”

“Yet here you are, craving my touch.” You teased him by tracing his awaiting cock with the tip of your index finger, looking up at him through your eyelids. “The pretty suit stays.” You commanded once your mouth reached his ear with the help of your tiptoed feet to (barely) match his height.

“Hmph,”

“Good boy.” Your hands were skillful to unfasten his belt quickly, you dropped the piece out of your way as your knees met with the floor to pull down his pants and find his black boxers molded to the outline of his hard member. “Such a view…”

Your face instinctively moved closer to his crotch, you stuck out your tongue to slowly lick his still clothed shaft. When you reached the bulbous tip, you pressed your muscle there for a couple of seconds ‘till Obito’s moans became louder.

“Honey, p-please.”

“Please what?” Your voice came out muffled by the fabric against your mouth, you were trying to surround the shape of his cock between your puffy lips to frustrate him even more.

“Hmgh,” he grunted. “I know what you’re attempting to do.” One of his hands went to grip your hair to keep you there while his hips swayed from side to side to relieve the pulsating ache your actions caused.

“Then, why don’t you ask nicely what you want?”

“We don’t have the time for this, Y/N.” You could tell by his tone that he was getting annoyed, but that only encouraged you to trace a wet path along his covered length.

“Precisely.” You emphasized when you concluded with a long kiss to his mouth-watering hidden tip.

“You little b-… Fine.” Obito let out a defeated sigh, accepting your unspoken wish to be the dominant one today. “Could you-…? Hm, put to work those pretty lips of yours on my bare cock…?” You shook your head no, that wasn’t what you wanted to hear. “Could you, please, suck me off without so many clothes in the way?”

“That’s better.”

You finally took the waistband between your fingers to get rid of his boxers, you pulled down the fabric until it reached his ankles to rest along with his pants, making Obito hiss the moment his dick sprung free and was surrounded with the fresh air in the room.

“Someone’s eager here, hm…” You couldn’t help but to stare at his marvelous, huge member; especially his glistening head, which made you want nothing more than to have him inside your mouth.

Nevertheless, you still had a role to play and that’s why you weren’t touching his now bare cock. You didn’t miss the way Obito’s face wrinkled in pain as his fist tightened on your hair, his hips were acting on their own when they thrusted forward in an attempt to feel your pretty lips on him.

“Baby, please… Not this again.”

Not even you could handle your teasing anymore, “Do you prefer my h-…?”

“Mouth. Always. Your mouth, always.” He stumbled over his words, desperate at this point.

Your hands found their way onto his thighs, and your mouth wasn’t entirely open the moment Obito decided to fill it with his impatient cock once and for all, resulting in him moaning in relief and in you gagging on his shaft.

Backing off a little, keeping only his tip between your lips, you looked up at him through your forming tears as your tongue went to work circling around the bulbous head, fingers now surrounding the base to make it easier.

Encouraged by his fast breathing you traced your way down his length leaving small kisses just to go back up with a long and slow lick to the underside of his dick following the bulging vein there to, at the end, take him completely into your mouth ‘till the tip hit the back of your throat, hand moving downwards to massage his full balls.

“O-Oh, fuuuck! That’s it, honey.” Your husband whimpered as his head fell back on the wooden door behind his tensed figure.

Under normal situations, he would’ve taken advantage of his grip on your hair to guide your movements in order to find a satisfying rhythm, but something told him that he should let you decide what to do next.

Starting to bob your head up and down with the assistance of your skilled tongue, you continued with the ministrations to his balls at the same time in order to double his pleasure, you raised your gaze to meet his just to find his eyes shut in concentration and his lips pressed together as to not make so much noise even though you couldn’t be heard by anyone outside your flat.

A particular hard suck to his aching member had him seeing stars through his closed eyelids, chasing with his hips inside your mouth to feel that indescribable sensation again, using his grip on you to reach the back of your throat and keep you there for a couple of seconds more.

“U-Use your tongue, pretty.” Obito asked between moans, watching your nose squeezing against his skin due to how deep in your mouth he was. It didn’t matter how many times you’d given him head throughout the years, you always ended up choking on his huge, long length every single one of them.

You did as you were told, managing to give him pleasure slipping your tongue along his heavy cock and occasionally reaching the point where his balls and base met to stimulate him there as well.

Obito let you go with a loud growl when he sensed your pats on his thighs, informing him you couldn’t take him that deep any longer. You pushed away rapidly, coughing in the process, while holding his coated member in your hand.

“S-Sorry,” your voice was somewhat broken, puffy eyes and swollen lips were also hints of what you were doing. “You’re just too big…”

“You did it well, so good for me.” He praised you lovingly, leaning down a little to caress your reddened cheek with his fingers. “You made me feel amazing, honey.”

“But you didn’t cum…” You cried, stroking his still hard dick to prove your point.

“Because I didn’t want to, baby.” The dark-haired explained as he helped you stand up from the floor, taking a mental note to buy you some cream for your bruised knees. “Y’know I prefer to fill your perfect pussy full of my cum, don’t you?” He whispered hotly against your ear, hands gripping your hips to maintain your balance, yours resting atop his dressed forearms.

“W-What about your meeting?” You wondered, looking for the clock to check the hour. “You’re late!”

“I can’t leave my wife alone while she’s feeling insecure about something that’s not true, can I?” You tilted your head to the side. “Plus, I’m already late. It wouldn’t make any difference arriving a bit more late, Madara’s going to kill me anyway.”

“Idiot,” you giggled.

“If being an idiot is what it takes to be by your side fucking you against this door, then I’ll beg whoever’s up there to stay an idiot for the rest of my life.” Your husband exclaimed between small kisses to your temple, using his feet to get rid of his shoes, pants and boxers so they don’t get in the way when he performs what he was meticulously planning in his mind.

“Oh, God.” You hid your embarrassed expression on his wide chest. “I forgot how poetic you become when you’re turned on…”

“Mhm… Would you let me, then?” His mouth was over your neck now, sucking the skin there and hoping it would leave a mark.

“Being an idiot for the rest of your life?” You smiled sheltered in the warmth of his chest, moaning softly the moment his hips bucked forward and his bare tip touched your clothed clit. “O-Obito…”

“I meant the part where I fuck you stupid against the door.” He pulled you closer by your hips, his hard length resting on your abdomen. “You must be tired from such a great job you did for me earlier, now let me take care of you.”

“Sounds good.” You whimpered, moving your lower half in search of friction. Obito’s finger went to your chin and lifted your head up to start a soon-heated make out, your hand slipped downwards to stroke his dick without separating it too much from your aching center. “A-Aahh, ‘need you inside me.”

“I know, baby.” He said quietly, surrounding your bruised neck with his hand while the other worked on the button of your shorts. “I’m on it.”

“I love your cock s’much, ‘can’t wait to have it stretching my walls…” You squeezed his shaft, provoking him, as you started another languid and loud kiss.

Your shorts made their way down your legs and you tossed them away somewhere in the room with the help of your feet. Obito didn’t waste any more time so he just raised you up by your thighs and pressed your back against the damn door without a word.

The dark-haired asked you to hold tight on his shoulders while he managed to move your panties to the side and enter your wet hole from his spot. “Baby, f-fuuuck! What a perfect hole you have.” He moaned once his cock shoved into your pussy, making you imitate him as your head fell on his neck along with your arms to support yourself.

Gripping your ass firmly, Obito started thrusting into you very slowly at first, getting used to the unusual position and trying to figure out the best way to pound into you without making you uncomfortable; but he guessed he was doing just well if the sounds coming out of your mouth were anything to go by.

“Right there, Obi. Right fucking there.” You grasped his hair forcefully, forehead pressing against his to be able to look at his beautiful eyes through your own teary ones.

“You’re so tight, always.” He cried as his fingers dug into the skin of your butt to quicken his pace, creating new slapping and squelching sounds that filled the entire living room. “Get your tits out for me, pretty.”

Every hard thrust went straight to your abused cervix, soft walls clenching around his throbbing cock, and thus turning you into a crying mess. Obito held you better, hoping you’d fulfill his request soon, and you leaned on one arm while your other hand lowered your top enough for your breasts to be pushed up by the collar of it, offering your husband the sight of your mounds pressed together inside your laced bra.

Obito let out a groan at your perfection. “I doubt you have any idea how much I love your boobs, not even a small hint of it.” He punctuated entering and exiting your hungry, wet hole.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” Your whole body was bouncing, your tits along with it, which was exactly what the dark-haired was looking for. “-‘Gonna cum, baby.”

“That’s it, honey.” He panted, hips moving faster than before. “Let your juices coat my cock so I can breed your pretty cunt.”

“Shit, Obi.” You complained as you released on his heavy shaft with trembling legs and eyes squinted, your insides closing vigorously around him. You searched for his lips to initiate a sweet kiss. “Your turn.”

“Already there.” Obito tightened his grip, hiding his face on your neck to nip at it just to trace his way downwards with a long lick to then suck on the soft skin of your mounds. “A-Ah! Fucking…”

The moment his dick twitched, indicating he was about to fill you full of his seed, you pulled his hair and kissed him open-mouthed ‘till the first drops painted your overstimulated walls, resulting in you both moaning in the middle of your messy make-out.

“So much…” You chuckled, referring to the amount of cum he was releasing inside you. “I love you, baby.”

“Your fault,” he still was thrusting into you while he finished cumming but very slowly compared to the pace he was going minutes ago. “And I love you too.”

“You can put me down now, y’know?” You informed him, “You must be tired from all the effort you made to make me feel good.”

Obito did as you told, leaving you gently on the floor again, and once you were supporting your full weight with your legs, you regretted your decision. Your husband must’ve noticed your problem since he was giving you a proud look, “Sore, aren’t we?”

“Oh, shut up!” You scolded him jokingly, raising your arms to encircle his neck and pull him into a kiss, tongue asking for permission to enter his wet cavern to start a not-that-coordinated dance with his own.

He grabbed your bare hips forcefully, playing with the fabric that hugged them and noticing they matched your bra. “You haven’t had enough? We’re all sweaty and sticky, especially me.”

“Hhm, I should be asking that to you…” You felt one of his fingers hooking under the waistband of your panties to slip them down, you tossed them away with your feet.

“Turn around for me.” The dark-haired bit your lips before trailing kisses along the length of your neck to finish with a suck on your collarbone.

You turned around, using your forearm as a support for your sweaty forehead. Behind you, Obito knelt down to spread your asscheeks and watch your little hole struggle to keep his release inside, he collected the semen slipping down your thighs just to put it back with a hard thrust of his fingers.

“Mhm! O-Obito, baby.” You jumped slightly the moment he moved them in a hooking manner, taking more wet sounds out of your pussy. “So good, fuck!”

“You think you can cum for me one more time, my love?” He asked against your ear even though he knew the answer, quickening his movements and enjoying the sight of the mixed fluids dripping into his palm.

“A-Ah, Faster! Fas-!” You were interrupted by Obito’s ringtone, making you gasp in surprise and realization.

“Ignore it, ‘should stop soon. W-What are you doing?” He frowned when he didn’t feel your warmth surrounding his fingers anymore, watching you walk towards his phone with your panties on. “When…?”

“Be a responsible man and answer the phone, Obito.” You handed him the vibrating device, a determined expression over your face.

“I don’t really want to hear Madara’s rage towards me, y’know…?” Your husband scoffed, searching for his boxers and attempting to put them on under your critical gaze.

“Now.” You raised your eyebrows like you always did when you were serious about something.

“Not happening.” Obito refused, insecure.

“A week without sex.” You started, shaking the phone in your hand.

“Wait, what?”

“That’s two.”

“Not fair!” He complained.

“Wanna make it three?”

“Oh, c’mon! Give me that!”

—

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ©UCHIHAGODS - DO NOT REPOST, ADAPT OR TRANSLATE MY WORKS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION.

#kha’s.posting #obito x reader #obito x y/n #obito x you #obito smut #naruto headcanons #naruto smut #naruto fanfiction #naruto x reader

[rosemaidenvixen]

Halloween story prompt idea:

Sunshine au, the gang somehow accidentally get stuck at a house party when Jim transforms and they have to find a way to:

1) cover for a "missing" Jim who was definitely wearing a different costume and now no one can find

2) explain a completely random stranger showing up uninvited in an awesome and extremely realistic troll costume

3) get transformed Jim out of there without too many people asking questions

“H– Hi Mom,” Claire managed to squeak out “What are you doing home so early?”

Ophelia raised an eyebrow at her as more women, each holding a baby or toddler, streamed into the living room behind her “Enrique’s daycare group is having their Halloween party here tonight, did I not mention it this morning?”

“No I don’t think you did…”

This was bad, they’d planned on having their group meet up at her house because with how early the sun went down this time of year Jim would be ok transforming here and then going home through the woods.

Of course that plan couldn’t account for a herd of babies and their moms occupying the first floor.

“Well uh…I’ll just go back upstairs,” Claire slowly backed out of the room “Tell everyone to keep the volume down so we don’t wake you,”

“Sure sounds great,” Ophelia was already looking away from her, pulling Enrique into his black cat costume.

As soon as she was out of sight Claire broke into a run, racing up to her room, darting inside and slamming the door behind her “We got a big problem, Enrique’s entire daycare group is here!”

You could have heard a pin drop in the stunned silence that followed those words, the four of them staring back at her with expressions of pure horror. 

“Well fuck,” Toby said, breaking the silence.

“Would it kill your parents to tell you their plans ahead of time…” Mary mumbled “Also Toby’s right, we’re screwed,”

Meanwhile Jim had recovered from his shock and shut his jaw with a click “Ok ok ok, no big deal. I’ll climb out on the roof and get to the woods that way,”

Claire felt her teeth digging sharply into her lip “That won’t work. My parents are getting the roof reshingled and have almost all of it stripped off already, so if you go out that way you could slip and wipe out,”

A collective wince rippled through the room.

“Double fuck…”

Abruptly Darci clapped her hands together and got to her feet “Ok, we can do this. You just sneak out real fast and we’ll cover you,”

“We should go now,” Claire added “They’re still getting the babies into their costumes and they’ll be distracted,”

Jim’s expression was still tight and tense but he nodded back at her all the same “Alright, let’s do this,”

Claire cracked open her door and peeked out into the hall. Seeing it was clear she stepped out and waved the others to follow. They crept out into the hall, Claire and Darci in the lead with Mary and Toby trailing behind and Jim tucked in the middle, hood pulled all the way up over his horns.

They made it to the staircase, Claire constantly glancing from side to side and keeping her ears strained for any sudden noises. Waving them ahead, Claire led the group down the stairs, touching down on the main floor without–

Sudden footsteps came from around the corner.

Claire’s heart shot up into her throat “Hide!” she hissed “I’ll cover for you,”

Without wasting a second; Darci, Toby, and Jim hustled through the doorway into the dining room, the door slamming shut behind them just as Claire whirled to face the intruder.

“Oh hello Claire!” Mrs. Knightley beamed at her, a babbling Hailey dressed in a bee costume trailing after her “So nice to see you here!”

Well of course I’m here it’s my house

“Hi Mrs. Knightley, good to see you too,” Claire fixed the smile she used with unfamiliar adults and guidance counselors on her face “Is this Hailey? She’s getting so big!”

Mrs. Knightley beamed “Yes she’s starting preschool this year. Now if you’ll excuse me I need to touch up her make up a bit,”

She stepped around Claire towards the dining room, the same room Jim had gone into–

Quick as a flash Claire and Mary darted in front of her “I don’t think she really needs make up,” Claire had to work hard to make sure her tone was equal parts sincere and convincing and betrayed none of her panic “Her features are so beautiful on their own,”

“Yeah,” Mary piped up “If you want I can give her a baby make up job, it do it for my little cousins all the time–”

“Thank you girls but I’ve worked hard to get the contouring just right and I don’t trust anyone else to do it, now if you’ll excuse me–”

Before they could stop her Mrs. Knightley barged past them and pushed the door open, walking right in on–

“Oh hey, how’s it hanging?” Toby's voice called out.

Hearing a palatable lack of screaming, Claire cautiously peeked past Mrs. Knightley into the dining room. Toby and Darci stood ramrod straight beside the snack laden table, Toby holding a bowl and Darci clutching an apple slice taken from a platter. Each of them sporting wide grins that Claire hoped only looked strained to her.

But where on earth was Jim?

“We were just trying out the snacks,” Darci said, brandishing her apple slice “Gotta make sure they’re good and all,”

Mrs. Knightley’s expression puckered “Please put that down, the snacks are here for the little children,”

“Right right,” Toby set the bowl back down, eyes almost imperceptibly flicking up towards the ceiling.

Stomach churning, Claire lifted her own gaze to the ceiling only to freeze.

Jim was up there, limbs all splayed out clinging to the ceiling like spider man.

Forcing herself to snap out of it, Claire ripped her stare away from the ceiling and back towards Mrs. Knightley.

Ok, so Jim was a wall crawler, that was new, but they could use this. All he had to do to escape was crawl along the ceiling.

And hope to god no one looked up. 

“Well it’s good to see you Mrs. Knightley…” Claire jerked her head up at Jim and then at all the others, before inclining her head towards the still open doorway behind her, slowly starting to back away “We’ll just get out of your hair…” 

The others picked up on what she was doing and followed her lead, inching their way towards the door with Jim crawling along the ceiling.

Mrs. Knightley waved her off from where she’d sat Hailey down and was getting out a container of foundation “Oh yes good to see you to,”

Claire nodded in reply and kept retreating. Once they made it out of the dining room the backdoor was just six feet and one turn away, all they had to–

“Oh, are you doing makeup in here?”

“Yes yes come on in,” 

Claire had to bite back a scream of frustration as a group of moms pushed in from behind her, the room going from wide open to crowded in seconds.

Don’t look up don’t look up whatever you do don’t look–

“Hailey sweetie lean back so I can work under your eyes,”

Claire’s heart stopped as Hailey flopped her head back, getting a full view of the ceiling.

All five of them froze, Hailey’s eyes going wide, a roaring in Claire’s ear as a chubby toddler finger slowly raised to point up at Jim.

“Boogeyman!”

Mrs. Knightley shook her head “Sweetie there’s no such thing as the boogeyman,”

“Boogeyman boogeyman, up up up!”

Mrs. Knightley sighed, more exasperated this time, but she was slowly raising her head towards–

“Hey guys!” Toby’s voice was loud enough to cut through all the chatter in the room, all eyes instantly going to him “Snack spread looks really good, mind if I just snag a few–”

Toby picked up the entire box of cupcakes from the table “So cool if I take this? Awesome, thanks,”

Good news, everyone in the room had forgotten about the ‘boogeyman’. Bad news, all eyes were on Toby and not in a good way.

The sound that came out of Mrs. Knightley could only be described as a screech.

“Oh absolutely not–”

“You kids can each have a cupcake, but not the entire–”

“Young man you put that down right–”

The room devolved into chaos. Women shouting, toddlers wailing, and Toby playing chicken with the cupcake box.

But Claire knew a diversion when she saw one.

Taking advantage of the chaos she all but ran out of the room, opening doors and keeping an eye on the ceiling to make sure Jim was following along on the ceiling. When they finally reached the back door Jim leapt down and they all bolted into the trees.

Only once they were a good distance away did they stop, panting. Going limp as the adrenaline slowly drained away. Looking around Claire saw that there were only three of them. She, Jim, and Darci were here, but Toby and Mary were AWOL. 

The rescue mission would have to come later, first she had to get her heart rate back in the normal range.

“So…” Darci said between pants “You can crawl on walls,”

“Yep,” Jim let out a gusty breath “Turns out I can, so that’s a thing, still not doing that again,”

Claire flopped back on the ground with a groan “Agreed,”

She was glad they’d been able to escape, but she already knew her mom was going to give her hell for this later.

Twigs snapped a short ways away and they all froze, but it was only Toby that came through the bushes.

“Oh man, sorry Claire, but I think I might have burned some bridges with your brother’s daycare group,”

Claire waved him off “Don’t worry about it, none of them are going to risk pissing off the councilwoman who controls their budget. Is Mary with you?”

Toby’s face went red “I…uh…might have tossed the box of cupcakes at her, and booked it the other way,”

Darci gave him an even look “You do know that she’ll kill you for that?”

“Better her than the Karen brigade,” Toby started and flashed Claire and apologetic look “Sorry,”

“Hey you’re not wrong,”

More crunching echoed in the dark woods, the four of them turning towards the sound to see Mary stomping through the trees, face bright red and gaze smoldering “You. Guys. Owe. Me. Big.” 

Jim raised both hands placatingly “Oh definitely, you guys saved my ass in there. I owe you one for sure,”

Still looking angry, but more placated now Mary plunked down on the ground next to Claire. It was only now that Claire still noticed she was holding the cupcake box.

“Mrs. Knightley might be obnoxious, but we really shouldn’t take all their cupcakes,”

“We’ll give them back, but I nearly got trampled by a horde of babies and their moms over these cupcakes, I earned one,” with that Mary pulled back the top of the box, lifted out a cupcake, and sank her teeth into the orange frosting.

After a few seconds Toby reached in after her and did the same, then Darci.

Oh what the heck.

Claire grabbed a cupcake herself, the four of them sitting on the ground in the dark forest munching on their cupcakes while Jim watched with piqued interest.

“So when you guys are done can I–”

“Don’t worry,” Toby gulped down his mouthful of cake “We’ll save you the paper wrappers,”

Jim grinned “You guys are the best,”

Mary swallowed “And don’t you forget it,”

#tales of arcadia #trollhunters #jim lake jr #claire nuñez #toby domzalski #mary wang #darci scott #sunshine au #halloween prompts #rmvwrites #is there a tag for these five's group dynamic? #if not I'm going to make one #I might be the only one to use it #but they're my favs and I'm tagging them

[kindersurprisebacterium]

Powder (Dabi/Reader)

I’m writing this while waiting for a drug test so forgive any formatting issues

Explicit content MDNI

W/C: 2.4K

CW: hair pulling, drug use, face fucking, degredation, choking, breeding?

Gender Neutral AFAB Reader

A stern knocking at the front door grabbed my attention, taking my gaze away from my phone. Sniffling, I stood up and approached the front door, sighing as I twisted open the handle and expecting a familiar set of green eyes. Instead, I was met with shaggy jet-black hair and cerulean eyes. Painted fingers reached out, twirling around strands of my hair and painfully tugging.

“Where is He?” The man said with a grunt as he pushed past me, dragging me into the living room. My breath hitched as panic began to drain the blood from my face. My head thumped against the wall as I was thrown towards the dining room.

“What? Who are you talking about?!” I yelled. He swiftly clamped a hand over my mouth, vibrant cyan irises stared daggers at me.

“Suzuki, who else would I be talking about.” The man scoffed. I grabbed his wrist, pushing his hand from my mouth.

“He left a couple of days ago. I swear! I don’t know where he is.” I sputtered. The man tugged me forward by my belt loops, his other hand began feeling through my back pockets, eventually reaching my phone. He quickly shoved me back against the wall and turned the screen on. I squinted as he turned the phone around. I watched as the Lock Screen opened after scanning my face.

“Let’s fucking see,” he muttered as he swiped through my phone. His fingers tapped against the screen furiously. He then put the screen up to his ear. I could hear the faint ringing over my ragged breaths. The man smirked as he glanced at me. Just then, the ringing stopped and an incoherent voice sounded over the speaker.

“Wrong person, buddy. Guess what though? I’ve got your toy. You gonna get me the money now?” The man smirked. More garbled speech sounded from the speaker. The man’s cocky smile soon dropped. He pulled the phone back and looked at the screen. He slammed the phone down on the dining table.

“What about you?” He leaned in, placing a hand on the wall behind me. “You got my money?” I furrowed my brows, words failing to come to me. “Huh?”

“Who are you?” I asked, voice breaking.

“Dabi, your ex-boyfriend's dealer,” he spoke bluntly.

“Ex? Wh- how much does he owe you?” My eyes began to flick away from him, gaze darting across the room.

“You now owe me seven hundred,” he smirked, tapping my nose with his finger.

“But he’s the one who bought from you,” I mumbled, flinching as his fingers moved away from my face.

“I’ve gotta get that money somehow, doll. Don’t care if it’s from you,”

I attempted to step forward. He quickly placed his other hand on the wall, caging me in.

“Money first,” He spoke sternly.

“Um…he left his pc here, can you take that?” I spoke, my gaze dropping to the floor.

“Sure can, babe,” he tilted my head up with his fingers. “Where is it.” He clicked his tongue and dropped one of his arms. I stepped away from him and started off toward the hall. I eyed my phone. Dabi quickly slid it further away and followed behind me. I sped up my paces down the hall. A firm tug on my belt loops pulled me back. An inked arm wrapped around my shoulder.

“Why you walkin’ so fast?” He chuckled. “Take it slow…”

We reached the doorway to the bedroom. I reached out for the wall and flicked on the light switch. The yellow-tinted ceiling light illuminated the mess of scattered clothes that my boyfriend had left behind.

“It’s there,” I said, pointing to the desk. Atop the hickory wood sat a hand-built PC, a labor of love that had taken him months to complete. Dabi whistled, dropping his arm from my shoulder as he stepped closer to the desk.

“Yep, that’ll more than cover it.” He chuckled as he brushed his fingers along the exterior. I stood with my back pressed against the wall, my gaze fixed on my socks. His black leather combat boots stepped into my field of view. “You’re shaking, baby,” he mumbled, stepping closer to me. His hand settled on my waist. His thumb toyed with the hem of my shirt. “You got me my money, you don’t need to worry about anything,” he said, reassuringly. His hands went back to my face, tilting my chin up to look at him.

“What did he say on the phone?” I asked, ever so slightly leaning into his touch.

“You don’t want to know,” he said, pursing his lips. His hand slid down my back, reaching toward my ass. I flinched, grabbing his wrist in an attempt to pull him off.

“Dabi,” I muttered.

“You wanna feel good?” He asked, leaning in. His hot breath fanned over my neck. “I bet you he never made you feel good,”

Flashes of memories of long, unsatisfied nights permeated my thoughts. Sore jaws and bruised knees became a prevalent problem.

“I’m nervous,” I mumbled, my grip relaxing.

“You want something to take the edge off? Something to make you feel good?” He asked, pressing kisses to my neck.

“Uh, yeah,” I said with a broken voice. My speech was laced with anxiety as I watched him fiddle with his back pocket.

“Open your mouth,” he said as he pulled out a small bag with white powder. I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out. He chuckled as he turned to me with a small amount of powder on his fingers. He pulled my cheek to the side with his free hand and began rubbing the powder into my gums. A small strand of drool dropped from my tongue. He pulled his soaked fingers from my mouth and brought the digits to his lips. He swirled his tongue around the fingers and then pulled off with a soft pop. He leaned in, mashing his lips against mine in a heated kiss. His hand gripped my ass, fingers slipping past the hem of my shorts and barely dipping into my underwear. He pulled back, hands going to the back of my thighs and moving my leg to wrap around his waist.

“You want me to fuck you?” He asked as he let his hand move back up my thigh. I nodded, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip. “Use your fuckin’ words,” he said, gripping my face with his other hand.

“Fuck me, dabi,” I spoke, lust soaking into my words. His lips curled into a smirk as his fingers dipped into my shorts. With two fingers, he began prodding at my entrance. The digits slowly slipped inside of me. I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, pulling his face close to mine. His thumb began rubbing against my clit in fast, circular motions. His fingers roughly pumped in and out of me, matching the brisk pace of his thumb. My vision unfocused as I sunk further into the feeling of his fingers inside me. My jaw went slack, and strangled moans escaped my throat. I tugged at his belt, undoing the buckle and pulling the leather through his belt loops. His fingers went faster. My breath hitched, hands shaking as I fiddled with the button on his fly. I began pushing his jeans and his boxers down his hips, gently coaxing his stiff cock out of its confines. It sprang free, hitting his abdomen. The flushed skin was adorned in silver barbells and dripping. I spit into the palm of my hand and brought it to his length. I began stroking him at a pace similar to that of his fingers. He huffed, cheeks turning a dusty pink color. With his other hand, he grabbed onto my throat, roughly pushing my head against the wall. He leaned forward, slotting his lips against mine. His tongue brushed against my lips. I parted my lips, making way for his tongue to twirl against mine. I moaned into his mouth as his fingers pulled me closer to a climax. My hand stuttered and then resumed its quick pace. He pushed harder against my throat, cock twitching in my hand. A soft, whining sound escaped from his chest, grip loosening ever so slightly as he pulled back.

“You clenched, baby. You like it when I choke you?” He asked, slurring his words as he left trails of wet kisses along my skin.

“Yeah,” I stuttered, tears pricking my eyes. “Fucking choke me,” my swollen lips spat the words out.

“You’re a fucking whore, aren’t you?” He said, thumb pressing harder into my clit. My toes curled, and my vision vision blurred as I neared my climax. “Huh?” He pushed against my throat, earning strangled gasps from me. “Who’s whore are you?”

“Y-yours,” I sputtered out, gasping. My hand stopped its motions as I came. My muscles clenched and my eyes strained as they rolled to the back of my head. Drool pooled from my lips, tongue lolling out of my mouth. My breath hitched as breathy, broken moans sounded from my bruised throat.

He picked me up by my thighs and carried me towards the bed. My chest heaved as he dropped me down onto the mattress. He began to yank my shorts down my hips. The seams creaked under the force of his grip. I pushed his jeans over his hips with my heels, easing them down his toned legs. His thighs were inked with thick black lines. Traditional Japanese artwork sprawled across his pale skin. I tugged at his shirt, eyes tracing the linework that disappeared underneath his fitted white tee. He pulled the fabric off, letting it drop beside my soaked shorts. I reached out, fingers tracing along his abs as my eyes wandered across his skin and to the barbells that adorned his nipples.

I sat up, heat running through my veins. I ran my tongue around one of his nipples while my fingers toyed with the other.

“It’s kicking in, ain’t it?” He asked, gripping the hair at the nape of my neck. He pulled me away from his chest and back far enough for his cerulean eyes to stare deeply into mine.

“Dabi,” I whined, biting my lip. “Use me.”

“Fuck,” he groaned as he began to stroke his cock. “You want me to use your cunt or your throat?”

I smirked, half-lidded eyes staring at his pierced cock. “My throat, and then my cunt,”

He smirked and moved to the other side of the bed. He gripped my hair, pulling me to lie down. He then hooked his arms under mine and pulled me until my head was dangling off the edge of the bed. I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out. He tapped the head of his cock against my tongue

“Bet that fucker would love to see this,” he mumbled as he grabbed his phone. He held the camera out, taking a picture of his cock resting on my face. I flicked my tongue against the underside of his head, urging him to put the phone down. He chuckled and slipped the tip of his cock into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around his head. He pushed further down my throat. Tears began to prick my eyes and a tickling sensation grew in the back of my throat. He pulled out, just to thrust forward with a moan. He pushed down on my throat with his hand. My legs twitched, heels digging into the mattress as my throat stretched to accommodate his size.

His phone began to vibrate. He huffed and slid it off of the mattress. He leaned forwards, fingers going straight to my clit. My hips jolted as he circled around my overstimulated nerves. His cock pushed deeper into my throat. I pushed at his thighs. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I coughed. He pulled out with a groan. His eyes scanned my spit-soaked face, pupils dilating as my half-lidded eyes met his.

“Fuck I just need to be inside you,” he muttered, grabbing my hair and pushing me forward onto my stomach. He then gripped my ankles and pulled me toward the edge of the bed. He pushed the head of his cock past my entrance.

“Fuuuck,” he moaned, “I’m gonna fuck this cunt so hard.” He started at a rough pace. The mattress beneath us began to squeal with every forward thrust. My breath was knocked from my chest, instead, I was left with empty and sore lungs, my mouth contorted into a silent scream. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks, blurring my vision.

“Feel good, baby?” He asked. I took in a wheezing inhale.

“Ffuck, so good!” I spoke with a splintered voice.

“Yeah?” He chuckled with a particularly rough snap of his hips. I cried out, fingers gripping at the sheets until my knuckles were white. “Who’s making you feel this good,” he asked, landing a harsh smack on my ass.

“You! Dabi! S’good!” I sputtered. “Harder,” I choked, “break me!”

“That’s it, baby, fucking love this cunt,” he moaned, grabbing a fistful of my hair. He pulled my head back until I was looking at him. My eyes settled on the phone in his hand. “Say hi to your ex, babe,” he said with a smirk. I stared at the camera, lips curling into a smile as an idea filled my head.

“Dabi, I want you to cum inside me,” I said, looking straight into his eyes. His pupils dilated, turning the bright cerulean of his irises into a deep navy color. He emitted what sounded like a growl and tossed the phone to the side. He pushed my face into the mattress and drilled into me at an even faster pace.

“Fuck, fuck! Gonna fill you to the fuckin’ brim,” he grunted. A haze fell over my body as I approached my second orgasm. His sentences melted into a slurred mess of groans as he drew closer to his climax.

“Breed me!” I croaked out as I came. My eyes screwed shut, toes curling as every muscle contracted from the sheer intensity of the orgasm. His hips stuttered, and he shouted profanities as he filled me with warmth. He pulled out, falling beside me. His chest heaved as he caught his breath.

“S’you wanna,” he huffed “go out?” He asked, hand soothing over my flushed cheek. I leaned into his touch and pressed a soft kiss to his palm.

“Of course,” I said with a smile. I shifted my gaze to his phone. The timer on the video was still ticking up with every second.

“Dabi, you’re still recording.”

#dabi x y/n #dabi smut #bnha dabi #dabi x reader #mha dabi #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #read on ao3 #touya smut #touya x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha smut

[honourablejester]

5e Character Concept: Ravenloft Lovecraftian Dhampir

So a while back I had an idea for how to put a more lovecraftian spin on the dhampir, because Van Richten’s Guide to Ravenloft does give you some hunger and backstory options for dhampirs that aren’t your usual ‘bitten by a vampire’ or ‘half-breed child of a vampire’. Things like hungers for cerebral spine fluid and psychic energy, and origins like ‘a parasite lives inside you; you indulge its hunger’, ‘you are a diminished form of an otherworldly being; slaking your hunger hastens your renewal’, and ‘a radical experiment changed your body, making you reliant on others for vital fluids’. So. There’s carte blanche already to go lovecraftian here, and all I want to do is slightly reflavour the vampiric bite to be silvery feeding tendrils that lie along her jaw like scars and unfurl to dive into some poor saps ear canal to feed. You know. For fun.

But. VRGR also has several cosmic horror Domains of Dread, and one of them is Bluetspur. The mind flayer domain, whose Darklord is the God-Brain, an insane and mortal elder brain whose horrific experiments towards apotheosis resulted in its physical form rebelling against itself, giving it a slow, horrific wasting disease that it is desperately trying to fight. Which, fun. Bluetspur is completely inhospitable to human life, you won’t find characters from there. What you will find is characters who were abducted to there, experimented on, and thrown back without their memories if the experiments were unsatisfactory. Amnesiac characters with fragmented dreams of vast mountains under red suns, things moving inside their skin, and pallid tentacles wielding surgical instruments. You know, your standard alien abduction repressed memories.

And. Bluetspur is also the origin of vampiric mind flayers. Feral mind flayers infected with vampirism by the God-Brain, so that they can drain cerebral fluid from victims and return to be dissolved by the God-Brain along with their cargo to stave off its own degeneration and dementia. Hence the additional dhampir origins above. So. With that in mind …

Just while we’re here, I want to kit out a full Ravenloft lovecraftian dhampir, a survivor of the twisted experiments of Bluetspur. And, just because we’re going full Lovecraft here, I do think we’re going to go for Aberrant Sorcerer? Just to go full tentacle. But, also. Dhampir. Experiments that changed your body. Psychic infections from a mad, diseased God-Brain and its desperate servants. Aberrant fits pretty well? Our sorcery was not inborn, it absolutely came from massive physical and psychic trauma.

Do I want to go full partial ceremorphosis? Dhampir has the parasite option, and Aberrant Sorcerer also has ‘infected with mindflayer tadpole but transformation couldn’t complete’ as an origin option. And since I’m going full Ravenloft and giving her a Dark Gift as well, ‘Symbiotic Being’ is an option. But. I think I’d prefer ‘Gathered Whispers’ for the Dark Gift. Granted, that still has ‘an alien intelligence intrudes upon my thoughts’ or ‘a sibling I don’t have shares my body’ as spirit options, so it could still work. But I think …

I think she was an extremely flawed experiment. Instead of infecting a mind flayer with vampirism, or infecting a vampire with ceremorphosis, they were trying to do both at once, short-cut the process by infecting a human with both, and they sort of … cancelled each other out? Fully messed her up, rewrote her body, fucked up her mind to the point that Modify Memory was barely necessary, but she’s neither a mind flayer nor a vampire. There is no surviving tadpole. Instead, she’s a halfway thing, and the spirits of Gathered Whispers are the fragments, or ghosts, of so many unsuccessful experiments of Bluetspur. Some of them are mind flayers. (Maybe one of them is the ghost of the tadpole). Some of them were human. It’s all a mess, and so is she.

And then she was dumped back out into another Domain of Dread, or maybe just tossed into the Mists until she stumbled into whatever one was closest.

If I was playing her, obviously this would be whatever Domain the campaign is in. For this thought experiment, though, I think it would be really fun if she was spat back out into Lamordia? You know, the gothic, industrial, mad science, Frankenstein Domain? With all her fragmented memories of experimentation and bodily transformation, to land in a domain dominated by mutation, radiation, and bodily experimentation. Just to fully traumatise her, and also maybe to confuse her memories? Given that they’re so fragmentary, maybe she thinks her memories are of Lamordian experimentation, and it takes a good long while for her to realise that they’re from somewhere much further and more alien.

So. To pull all that pile of trauma together. Picture a tall, rangy, slightly wild-eyed woman, with a rather dark, healthy-looking complexion. Not vampiric pale. Tangled brown hair streaked with gray. Long, bony hands that shake slightly. Two thin, silvery scars, one on each side of her face, running along her jawbone. And if an enemy ever gets too close, well. Those scars unfurl. Twin tendrils, thin, silvery feeding tendrils, that dive into that enemy’s ears.

Is she Lamordian? Originally, I mean. Was she stolen from there? Do we want to give her a Germanic sort of name? Irma might be fun. It means whole, which is nicely cruel. Irma Hafner. Hafner means potter, from hafan, or vessel. Whole vessel. Or whole/great maker of vessels. Maybe the mind flayer who stole her way back when had a dark sense of humour. Heh.

I’m not sure on the background. Well, no. I do kind of want to take the Ruined background from The Book of Many Things again, mostly because it lets her take Tough at first level, which will be very handy since she’s built around Cha/Con for spells and her bite, and she’s a sorcerer and therefore has no hit points. It also gives her stealth and survival, which seem quite fitting for a wild amnesiac who wandered out of the mists with nothing but broken memories of being tortured. So, yes, her mechanical background is Ruined. As, well, she was. But I meant more … what’s her profession? What does she do? How is she trying to make her living right now. Is she just a wild beggar woman wandering around? (Has she met Elise?) Actually, that might not be a bad idea. Sorcerers don’t need much in the way of equipment. She’ll be using her bite and cantrips instead of weapons, and after that we can say she scrounged the makings of a component pouch and an explorer’s pack.

Sidenote: Bluetspur and Lamordia really do have a lot in common. Darklord Viktra’s desperation to defeat death and cure Elise’s wasting disease, the God-Brain’s desperation to defeat death and its own wasting disease. I bet Viktra would find the God-Brain fascinating. And it might, maybe, think her … useful. Heh.

But, yes. Mechanically. Irma is a Dhampir, and Aberrant Sorcerer, and Ruined. She has a dark gift, Gathered Whispers, which means she’s haunted by spirits, whispering voices, which will give her the Message cantrip, a reaction to add her proficiency to her AC for 1 attack if the opponent isn’t deaf, and some fun consequences whenever she rolls a 1. She’ll have 16 each in Charisma and Constitution, with probably Dexterity and Wisdom as her next highest, and Intelligence and Strength taking up the rear. Her vampiric bite has been reflavoured to feeding tendrils along her jaw, and she feeds on cerebral fluid. She’ll start out with a respectable 11 hit points, which is not bad on a sorcerer. Starting cantrips are Mind Sliver, Message, Mage Hand, Chill Touch, Prestidigitation and Minor Illusion. Starting spells are Arms of Hadar, Dissonant Whispers, Mage Armour and Sleep. She’s a beggar and a wild woman, and she has dark dreams and fractured memories of a strange red sun, and things pulling her apart to put her back together. And not much in the way of other memories, or at least not whole ones.

She is trying very hard to pretend to be sane and sort-of-normal. She is not succeeding very well. But, you know. She’d like some food, and some money, and she has this nagging impression that the worst has already happened to her, so she’s willing to brave a few terrors in pursuit of them. Just. Labs, laboratories, might be tricky for her. Medical procedures. Tentacles. Things like that. Heh.

Irma Hafner. A survivor of Bluetspur, a Ravenloft lovecraftian dhampir.

#character concepts #d&d #5e #sorcerers #dhampirs #ravenloft #bluetspur #lamordia #i do enjoy several of the domains of dread #van richten's guide to ravenloft