#Here Kitty Kitty

[maximumeffort-minimumscale]

Boop.

[kendyroy]

do you guys think wade googles cat-related questions to understand his little meow meow logan better?

i imagine his search history would be a lot like

“why does my cat rub against me?”

“why does my cat have a really deep meow?”

“does pspsps actually work to get the attention of a stubborn kitty?”

“what does my cat think when i meow back?”

“why do the biscuits my cat makes on me hurt so much?”

“what are some ways to encourage my cat to purr more often?”

and logan stumbles upon wade’s search history one day and wonders if wade’s adopted a cat for their apartment in secret

[dipvspip]

🐱 ⭐️ LEGALISE CATBOYS ⭐️ 🐱

[kpop-bbg]

[sasha199]

“What if the tiefling trio were kittens.”

0_o

“Hold my beer.”

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Draco continues to dip into the kitty

15.2

DRACO

Draco wasn’t through with her. He wasn’t done basking in this moment. This moment that he had been dreaming about for fucking years. Ever since he was a boy who could get a hard on, and wanted to see naked women and fist himself while thinking of the female anatomy, he had wanted hers. On him, under him, on display.

And now she was coming onto his hand and onto his tongue and he couldn’t be harder. He couldn't be happier. Which wasn't something Draco ever really allowed himself to be.

But right now, it seemed easy to let loose just a little bit.

When the waves of pleasure finished rolling through her, Draco pushed the material of her dress up higher, over her stomach, where he placed his mouth, kissing her there. He pushed it up over her chest, exposing the black, shiny bra.

“This dress is lovely,” He murmured as he pressed his lips in between her breasts. “But I’m afraid it’s useless at this point.”

Hermione’s eyes fluttered open, and she nodded silently as she lifted her shoulders so that he could finish pulling it off and over her head.

He tossed it to the floor and resumed the journey up, kissing her clavicle, her neck, just under her jaw. He slid his tongue over the shell of her ear, causing her to shudder.

But her hands were roaming his back, and over his shoulders and she was still whimpering. He placed a hand on either side of her head and captured her mouth again. He wondered what she thought of the taste of herself on his lips. He thought she tasted like the most decadent piece of fruit. He wondered what it was like to mix the flavor of his breath and the flavor of her cunt. He had no perspective on the matter, so he kissed her deeper, forcing her to experience it for him.

Hermione placed a hand on his face, deepening the kiss before he managed to break it, panting heavily into her mouth.

“Draco,” She pulled his name out, slowly, dragging the O like it was something that might increase the pleasure of their bodies meeting. “Please take your pants off.”

Draco chuckled gently against her mouth before pulling back.

She used that opportunity to reach for him, beating him to the belt looped through his pants. She fumbled with the buckle, struggling and frantic to get at him.

Gods, this was better than he had ever imagined. Not only was she willingly taking him, but she wanted him. She was desperate for him.

He lifted his hands from his his belt and watched her struggle.

She sighed impatiently and glared up at him.

He shrugged a shoulder and smirked at her. “I enjoy watching you struggle. As long as its for my cock, of course.”

“Draco,” Her voice was chastising.

He didn’t move his hands to help her. He waited, patiently, while his cock angrily protested and strained painfully against the fabric of his trousers. When she finally got the buckle undone, she tore through the button of his pants and lowered the zipper.

Draco watched as she dampened her lips with her tongue, a sort of wild and eager look in those big brown eyes. Even in the dark of her room, they were visible. Bright and beautiful.

Hermione tugged his pants down and watched as his cock sprang free. She was staring at it, her face so close that when she sighed, her breath tickled the tight skin pulled around the head. He dick was throbbing and weeping, begging to be inside of her.

She fisted him, sliding her hand over him, her wrist twisting with the clever little motion. Cleverest, brightest witch, indeed. How’d he know she’d be so good at this?

She kissed the head of his cock before running her tongue over it, curling it around to pulse against the seam underneath.

Draco hissed through his teeth, bringing his hand up to her cheek. His thumb stroked gently against the hollow of her cheeks as she wrapped her lips around him, as she slid her mouth up and down his shaft, slowly running her tongue over and under.

Draco was jerking, his hips bucking with every pass of her lips and ever sweep of her tongue.

And then he was hitting the back of her throat as she began to suck in earnest, bobbing her head and forcing him to fuck her mouth.

Draco had never known a more beautiful sight.

Draco had never imagined she would be so lovely with her lips wrapped around him, no matter how many times he had fantasized about it.

But he didn’t want the first time he came with her to be inside of her mouth.

He wanted to bury himself deep inside of her cunt, wrap his arms around her body, fuck her slow and for hours. He wanted to expand the pleasure, stretch it out over an undetermined amount of time as he dragged his cock slowly through her, feel her clench around him like she did his fingers.

And then he wanted to fill her up with his seed, risk ruining her for anyone else. She couldn’t be anyone else’s. Not after tonight.

Draco’s hands pulled her hair into a makeshift ponytail. Capturing it all in one hand, he pulled her off his dick and dropped onto the bed to kiss her. There was a renewed sense of possessiveness overtaking him.

It had always been there, something he had tampered into a mere smolder over the years.

But seeing her mouth wrapped around him was enough to ignite it into a five alarm fire.

He shoved her down onto the bed and pushed her thighs open with his knees.

His mouth overtook hers, hungrily seeking out every bit of air inside of her lungs as she kissed him back just as greedily.

It was sloppy and wet and was enough to cause Draco’s chest to expand astronomically as he lined the head of his cock to her wet, slick folds, nudging at the opening there.

She hissed, pulling away and made to reach down for him, to hurry up and guide him inside, but Draco took her hand and pinned it above her head, quickly adding the other one. He held her down with one hand before he moved caught her lip with his teeth.

He was always so jealous of her own teeth for being able to nibble on that fat little lip and he was punishing her for it. He was taking it for himself as he finally slid inside of her.

Hermione moaned and it sounded like she was singing softly into his ear. She clenched around him and wrapped her legs around his hips, tugging him closer, nestling him inside of her as deep as she possibly could.

He released her lip and rested his forehead against hers, breathing and waiting for his cock to calm down. He wasn’t going to last long if she kept this up.

Because her pussy was so tight, and so wet. It felt like a silk glove. It felt like he might never feel this good again. It caused his body to tremble as he held himself up over her, one hand planted firmly into the mattress beside her head.

Still holing her hands with his other hand, he closed his eyes and breathed.

Lips coasted his and he opened his eyes to find her staring up at him, completely unguarded. Her bright eyes were soft and vulnerable but there was something so fucking sweet inside of them as she planted kisses to his mouth, his cheeks, his jaw. Pulling back in between each one to look at him, to eye him. To gauge him, he assumed.

“Draco,” She purred, clenching around him again.

He groaned — no, he whimpered — as he started to move inside of her, in and out; slow, devious strokes into her, out of her, into her, out of her, intoherintoherintoher. He pressed his hips firmly against hers, ensuring that his pelvic bone moved against her clit as he rolled his hips into her.

She was moaning little praises of approval, her nails digging into his back, causing him to shudder and shiver, appreciatively. And then she was moving her hips in little semi-circles and digging her heels into the bed, lifting her hips to meet him for every stroke.

Their thrusts and gyrations became erratic and soon they were panting loudly and Draco was fucking her until her pleasure ripped through her again. Her moan was like a scream, a cathartic release of years worth of frustration and desire.

Draco fucked her throughout the rippling after effects of her orgasm until he was groaning loudly and into her mouth, her lips capturing his as he came.

When they were completely wrung out, panting and Draco had collapsed on top of her, both of them closing their eyes in a new euphoric type of relaxation, Hermione dropped her hands to the bed.

Draco realized he never took her bra off, never got to marvel at those spectacular tits as he fucked her.

“I’m still mad at you.” She rasped into the dark room, causing Draco to snort and shake his head, his nose grazing her ear as he shook his head.

“I don’t think you’ll ever stop being mad at me, kitten.” He kissed the side of her head. “Not if I’m doing things right, that is.”

[laurenoliviamodel]

[higgssupremacy]

Virtual photography from @Kaztella_VP

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

HERE, KITTY, KITTY (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Aizawa x Black!Catgirl!Reader

Synopsis: In which you find yourself in the weirdest predicament after you’re scooped up and taken to a cat cafe after you decide to take the streets to fight some crime, and you’re adopted by your very anti-social and hot coworker Aizawa aka Eraserhead.

Story Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY), Swearing, Adult!Reader, Ear and Tail Stroking, Light Degradation, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Multiple Positions, Creampie, Unprotected PIV Sex, Facial, Scent Play, Collaring, Deepthroat, Cunnlingus, Begging, Edgeplay, Power Play, Rope Play/Shibari, Master Kink, Some Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Some Action

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I done had this idea for YEARS & finally decided to write it. Idk how long this will be BUT I hope y’all live for some coworkers to friends to lovers type shit. Enjoy! -Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

Other Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five.

**********

ONE.

Briiii-iiing!

After what feels like an eternity, the bell signaling your third period and your lunch break has finally rung its joyous sound throughout the halls. You don’t even mind the way it sounds shrill to your overly sensitive ears. But that’s the way of a cat: everything is sensitive to you.

Even as a cat hybrid.

You turn to the student who has become a regular in your office, smiling kindly at him. “That’s for you, too,” you say with a wink. “I don’t think you’d wanna eat lunch with the school counselor, Katsuki.”

Katsuki Bakugou, with his intense stare and a permanent scowl that reminds you of a bulldog, grumbles as he stands and slugs his backpack over his shoulder. He turns to head out of your office without another word.

“Hey,” you say, stopping him. He looks over his shoulder expectantly. “Remember what I said: if someone says something to piss you off, just breathe. Think about what you’d be giving up if you resort to violence. You’re a very intelligent and good kid, Katsuki.”

Bakugou doesn’t reply, but you see something shift on his face. He looks taken aback at your words. But just as quickly as it came, it’s gone and he’s back to his usual cool stare. With a suck of his teeth, he’s leaving your office, slamming the door as he does.

You sit back in your seat and turn towards the window, exhaling slowly. Your view from your office showcases the gorgeous cherry blossoms that are about to bloom–they’re just pink buds right now. You sigh dreamily, so glad spring is here. Finally, you’ll be able to crack open your window to breathe in the sweet scents of blooming flowers and sun.

You remind yourself once again to thank Nezu for such a wonderful spot for your office. Not only do you have the best seat in the house for the view, but you also have your own couch for naps in between breaks and a mini fridge under your desk where you store your lunch and snacks for the kids who come in here to chat about their problems or incidents with other kids (mostly Bakugou).

“As the UA school counselor, it’s important that you’re just as comfortable as our students here!” Nezu brightly proclaimed after giving you the tour of UA on your first day at work. That was at the beginning of September.

Now that it’s March, you’ve been here for six months now. You couldn’t have asked for a better job! You get paid what you weigh with your degrees, you live in an apartment on campus you don’t have to constantly dish out money for public transportation, and everyone you work alongside is so, so nice…

Well, almost everyone.

Not wanting to waste any more time before another kid comes crying into your office about their issues, you take your lunch out of your mini fridge and hurry to head off to the UA teacher breakroom, locking the office door as you do.

When you enter the cozy-looking breakroom with its mini sofas, expensive coffee machine, and sterling steel microwave, you find Nemuri and Mic already sitting at a table. Nemuri glances at the door and grins at you. “Ah, there she is!” she coos. “My favorite cat girl!” Her eyes trail over your form, humming suggestively. “And looking quite fine.”

“Absolutely,” Mic agrees as he pops some rice into his mouth. “Pink is definitely your color, Y/N.”

You flush at the sweet compliments, glad you went for a pink blouse and a nice skirt today. “Why, thank you,” you giggle as you sit next to Nemuri–your usual spot. Your trail curls around your legs, relaxed and content. “So, what’s on for the conversation today?”

“Tonight,” Nemuri replies, wiggling her brows mischievously at you. “We’re still on for tonight, right?” She grips your arm dramatically. “Please tell me we are! I’ve been needing to get my ass in my clubbing dress for months!”

“Yes, drama queen,” you laugh as you unzip your lunch bag. A bento box, a yogurt cup, and a bottle of Kombucha tea sit inside. “We’re still on. I’ve been needing to shake my ass for the one time, too.”

“And get yourself someone to take back home tonight you watch you shake your ass,” Nemuri adds. You roll your eyes while Mic laughs. “Aw, come ooon, Y/N!” she whines. “You’ll never know the thrill of bringing someone back for a hot night at your place until you try it.”

Nemuri has been trying to get you to try casual sex for the longest time after her plans for being a matchmaker fell through. When you told her you didn’t have a boyfriend during a night out after becoming fast friends, she just about fell out of her chair. “No,” she gasped into her cocktail. “A woman as gorgeous as you? There’s no way! This is a tragedy!”

And because of this “tragedy”, she took it upon herself to try and match you up with other pros she knew.

So far, it’s been All Might, who was very nice but you found you liked as a friend, and Snipe, who was fine as hell behind his mask and amazing in bed, you felt like you were leading him on because of your feelings for another person. Snipe told you he understood but if things never worked out with “the other guy”, he was always there.

What Nemuri didn’t realize is that dating never seemed to work for you. It always ended in casual sex due to you being a cat girl. Most men you’d dated or slept with always seemed to want you for the cat girl they thought you to be…which was usually out of a hentai.

So you steered clear from dating, feeling more than happy being single if it meant not putting up with the BS. Cat girls had a bad rep because of the shit Hollywood thought of for pornos, which meant you had to work ten times harder to get what you wanted. Including being taken seriously in a relationship.

“First of all, that’s against the rules, ‘Muri,” you sigh despite your friend’s pouting. “Nezu is against bringing any outsiders onto campus, especially in our dorms.” Nemuri and Mic glance at each other, knowing damn well they’ve broken that rule many, many times. “And two, you know I’m too busy with work to date.”

“It’s not dating though,” she protests. “It’s sex! Tell her, Mic.” The blonde pro looks between the two of you, bunching on a rice ball.

“I’m not in this,” he mumbles, making you laugh. “And the last time I brought someone to my apartment, I shattered some windows in the entire complex because I was so loud.” Your eyes widen at his confession and he flushes. “He was good, okay?”

Hysterical giggles rise to the surface in your chest, Nemuri laughing with you. “That’s hilarious,” you sigh, wiping at a tear, “and exactly why your idea is a bad one.” You poke Nemuri’s side with a fork. “Besides, you know I don’t want just anyone in my bed.”

As soon as the words are out, you realize your mistake. Your friends stare at you expectantly, leaning in as if desperate to know your deep, dark secrets. “Then who do you want, Y/N?” Nemuri purrs, raising a brow at you.

Mic nods. “Yes, do tell!”

You flush, popping a piece of chicken kara-age from your bento box into your mouth to keep your mouth occupied. They both knew who you were referring to; they just wanted you to say it aloud. The truth was, you could never date just anyone because you already had feelings for another. It was stupid, really. A pathetic, schoolgirl crush because you knew he could never return them.

As if on cue, the man of the hour and your dreams walks into the room, as quiet as a church mouse. He’s so quiet that you jump, your tail fuzzing up, when you see him round the corner wearing his signature jumpsuit and scarves, hands in his pockets. He truly is an attractive man despite his tired eyes–about six foot something, a nice build, black locks of shoulder-length hair that frame his handsome face, and a five o’clock shadow.

When he glances at you as he walks in, it’s so hard to breathe suddenly. No matter how many times he looks at you, it always has the same effect on you. His stares are intense and bothersome; haunting almost. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, suddenly hyperaware of the fact that your skirt rises just above your knees, giving a tiny slip of thigh behind your nylon stockings.

“Aizawa!” Mic exclaims, grinning at his friend as he slinks into the room. “To what do we owe the pleasure of seeing your gorgeous face?”

Aizawa doesn’t spare his friend as much as a glance as he looms over the coffee machine. He grabs one of the Plus Ultra mugs above the sink and takes a pod of the dark roast. “Lunch break,” he blandly replies. “Needed coffee.”

You can’t help but watch his hands as he works to whip himself up a cup. His hands are just so big! And his fingers are so long. You wonder if he plays piano by any chance.

And if one day, he could play you by any chance. Would his hands be calloused and rough from years of hero work? Would they be gentle and careful with you? Would he know how to touch you? Would he be willing to know how practically begging you to show him how to make you feel good?

You can picture him now, his eyes drilling a hole into you as he kneels between your thighs, his fingers plunged deep into your sobbing wet–

“Oh, Shouta!” Nemuri calls, scaring you half to death out of your nasty thoughts. She’s smirking at you while Mic silently laughs beside her. “Will you be attending our nighttime activity after school ends? We’re going to Hot Spot. You know, that one club all the pros go to?”

You flush, knowing what she’s doing. She knows damn well Aizawa isn’t going. He never goes anywhere except when he’s forced to. “Of course, you are,” he mutters, tapping one finger on the counter as he waits for his coffee to finish brewing. “And no, I’m not. Don’t know why this is even a question.”

“Oh, sorry,” Nemuri sarcastically replies. “I forgot you’re anti-social and you hate anything related to socializing or people.”

Aizawa gives her an irritated glance. “Not the reason,” he growls. “It’s because I have better things to do than be in a room with a bunch of drunk people I don’t know. Like grading papers.” Once his coffee is done, he takes the mug along with one packet of sugar. No cream or anything else.

He walks to the door but glances back at his friends before he makes his grand exit. “And I’m not anti-social.”

“Sure, you’re not!” Mic yells to him once he’s gone. He then turns to you and Nemuri with a smirk. “He totally is.”

You smile along with Nemuri’s laugh, but you can’t help the way your body feels from Aizawa’s presence: hot and very, very bothered.

***********

You could burn a hole into someone as you watch Nemuri giggle and charm the man trying to sweet-talk her next to you at your booth.

The man is so obviously eyeing your friend’s cleavage that she flaunts in her dress with the sweetheart neckline. This is the fourth man that’s talked to her tonight since she, you, and Mic arrived at Hot Spot an hour before.

‘Horny bastards,’ you think to yourself, though you can’t help but be jealous.

Why can’t you be more like Nemuri and just be free with your inhibitions like her? She flaunts, flirts, and fucks without care. But then again, everyone wants to fuck Ms. Midnight.

Nobody even knows who you are. And you’d like to keep it that way. Plus, being a cat girl gains you unwanted attention anyway. It’s bad enough you get the occasional weirdo asking you about your tail and if you poop in a litterbox.

Mic, in his Hawaiian shirt, wraps an arm around you. “What are you doing later?” he asks you playfully. You giggle, poking at his chest. “Not you,” you reply wittingly.

“Oh, that’s right!” he recalls, giving you a smirk. His eyes look slightly hooded from the several shots he, you, and Nemuri did. “Because you’d like to be doing my friend right now. And don’t deny it either!”

You say nothing. Instead, you stare down at your hands clamped firmly in the lap of your skinny jeans. You went for a nice sequin top and heels tonight to pair with the jeans that made your ass and thighs look fantastic. You swear Mic and Nemuri told you that at least five times tonight.

Nemuri finally turns around to face you, placing a folded napkin in her bra. “Got a number,” she sings. “Might just give it to you.” She goes to take the napkin out and give it to you, but you push her hand away.

“No,” you protest. “I already told you, Nemuri; not interested in fuckin’ someone I barely know.”

Nemuri puckers her lips at you, giving you a scowl. “Leave her be, ‘Muri,” Mic chuckles, wrapping his arms around the both of you. “You know her heart is set on another.” He and Nemuri begin to pucker their lips at you, moving to kiss your cheeks.

“Cut it out!” you laugh, slapping them away. “I don’t want your drunk ass kisses either!”

“I don’t know why you don’t just talk to the guy, babe,” Mic chuckles, already on his fifth shot of the night. “He’s really not that bad! He’s just extremely shy and doesn’t have that much experience with talkin’ to women. If he happens to meet one, it’s usually just a hookup.”

You wither at his words, silently drinking your cocktail. You don’t want to be just a hookup to Aizawa if you ever manage to get that far with him. But those changes are slim to none since he barely speaks to you. The most you ever get out of him is a “good morning” or a “see you tomorrow”.

You’ve been working at UA for six months now and you barely know anything about him except for the fact that he’s pro-hero Eraserhead, he’s fine as fuck, and all his students love him like a dad, even calling him “Dadzawa” which you think is utterly adorable. You’d love to know what’s underneath that stoic expression and intense eyes, but Aizawa purposely keeps to himself and barely speaks to anyone.

Despite this knowledge, your body still quivers at the memory of those damn eyes setting dead on you. Then you just feel stupid. You know that you and Aizawa could never date. It’s just not in the cards for you right now, with your job as a counselor and your “nightly activity”.

So when is this stupid crush going to end?

“Oh, wow,” Mic suddenly says. He’s on his phone, scrolling through Apple News. “Look at this!” he excitedly says, practically shoving his phone in your face. “Can you believe this shit? Street crime has been down more than 50% in the past few months. More than it's been in the last five years!"

Nemuri glances at you, a knowing smirk on her face. You flush with pride and do your best to bite back a smile as you match Mic’s astonishment. “Wow, them underground pros must be workin’ hard, plus the night patrols.”

As if not wanting you to be blue over this weird ass man the entire night, one of your favorite songs comes on too. You take Nemuri and Mic’s hands in yours. “C’mon’ let’s go dance.”

Nemuri squeals and practically drags you to the dance floor, Mic following close behind you. The music is good tonight, the DJ playing mostly hip hop, transitioning between 90s tunes and modern stuff.

The alcohol you consumed gives you the confidence to dance the night away, your hips swaying and ass bouncing in time with the different beats. You’re well aware you’re catching eyes from many different people out on the floor, pros or not, and it fills you with the sense of confidence and sexiness Nemuri must feel every time she walks out of the house.

As you dance under the strobe lights, sweating out your makeup and braids, you feel like you could take someone home if you wanted to. Who needed Aizawa? He had no idea what he was missing.

That intoxicating feeling doesn’t let up for a moment, even as the night comes to an end hours later. It is about 11 PM when you, Nemuri, and Mic finally depart outside the club. “Thanks for inviting me,” you say, hugging Nemuri. “You sure he’s gonna be okay?”

You nod at a very drunk and sleepy Mic who has his arm slung over Nemuri’s shoulders, his head lulling. “He’ll be fine,” she giggles, wrapping an arm around his waist. “He thinks he’s a steel bull when it comes to shots, this one.”

She laughs at Mic’s light mumbling as he sings the lyrics of a Beyoncé song. “Where are you about to go now?” She asks, shifting her weight in her heels to accommodate Mic’s.

“Where do you think?” You playfully ask, giving her a wink before you begin to strut away from her at the club down the street. “Just be careful!” You hear Nemuri call after you.

You turn to her, seeing her concerned gaze, and you give her a reassuring smile. “Don’t I always?”

You laugh, blowing her a kiss before turning around and strutting away back to UA just as Nemuri and Mic get into the Lyft she called beforehand. But you know you can be faster.

You don’t stop moving until you’re finally behind a nearby building to a jewelry shop. You turn to look in the glass window at the woman staring back at you standing in her leather jacket, skinny jeans, and sequin top. With a slow exhale leaving your nostrils, the reflection of the woman vanishes, now replaced with a teeny, tiny, black cat.

To anyone who was to walk through this alley, all they would see is a stray walking the streets. But only you know the truth.

Though the streets are empty and quiet at this time of night, you can’t be too careful, so you decide to take the rooftops, jumping from one building without a care in the world to the next with your heightened agility and senses.

All sounds of Musutafu at night–the chirping of birds; the drilling machinery of constructing workers in the streets; the honking of traffic; the occasional bark of dogs–drift to your ears, making them twitch. Everything in your sight is ten times as close, even the farthest tree where you can clearly see a couple going at it in the park.

It only takes you ten minutes you get back to UA, faster than Nemuri and Mic. You hurry across campus to the faculty dorms and jump onto the trunk of a nearby cherry blossom tree. Your claws immediately shoot out and stick into the bark, allowing you to climb up the tree with no problem.

You then creep along the long branch that stretches right to the window of your dorm that you keep cracked specifically for you–just enough for you to slide through. When you’re finally inside the clean, dark apartment, you quickly shift back into your human form (clothes still intact) and proceed to hurry to your closet.

You open it, your eyes falling on the black box pushed to the back behind your shoes. Trembling with excitement, you pull the box out and look inside where your hero’s outfit, complete with fingerless gloves, knee-high boots, and a mask, sits inside.

“Hey, baby,” you coo, taking out the mask. It’s simple and black with two cat ears popping out of the top to protect your ears. You slip the mask over your head before putting on the rest of your gear.

The black leather bodysuit stretches across your skin and accentuates the curve of your ass, the fullness of your breasts, and the best parts of your body. Decorated along your front, back, and thighs are silver, glitter-coated slashes to appear like claw tears. You thought that was a cute touch. The back isn’t tight enough on your backside to hurt your tail, but you don’t like it out when you’re fighting. It’s too risky since you know your opponents could pull on it.

The mask covers the top half of your face, making you feel like a stranger as you stand in your mirror, admiring yourself. The knee-high boots are high enough to make you feel sexy, but low enough for you to kick ass or run if need be. But half the time, you’ve got the running thing covered with your cat form.

With a smile on your glossy lips, you admire the sexy woman standing in the mirror in front of you. The Night Claw. Musutafu’s newest and cutest nighttime vigilante. And your alter ego–one that you’ve secretly had for months now after starting UA.

“Time for some trouble,” you purr.

With another inhale, you transform back into your cat form. You stretch, arching your back and yawning, before jumping up on the window and then leaping from the ledge.

You praise yourself when you hit the ground on all fours. Then, with a happy meow and a blink of your yellow eyes, you race out into the night, yowling happily as you do, for another night of excitement.

[czargasm]

here kitty, kitty

DNF | Mature | 8265 words | Complete

When George makes enemies with the wrong person, he finds himself transformed into a cat. Where better to hide out until he figures out how to break the curse than with the cute owner of a nearby cat cafe?

[dollster]

[elwifeguy]

Mariana is bored, is what this comes down to. Usually, she would just keep to herself, stay in the house y'know? But she's bored. Roier is busy, and Charlie is - somewhere. As fun as sex sounds right now she's kinda feeling a more urge to just , do something. Build some more? Cook? Bake? Mess with Cellbit?

Mess with Cellbit is what she decides. Well, it's not messing if she made fucking- cookies for xem is it? Maybe not. She decides, to say sorry for the - heat thing. Just so xey don't wring her neck!

Even, if she's not really sorry, and she'd probably enjoy th- the POINT is, she's bored and she baked cookies just to say sorry, and well Mariana was gonna say sorry! She was not above apologizing, she's apologized a bunch of times, it was second nature at this point as weird as that sounded. Maybe- not enough, but the point is she's not really sorry and she probably will say it again but bygones are bygones, even if she didn't know if xey were actually angry. Because xey weren't right? Hell if she knew.

The problem was she actually no idea where the fuck xey were. She did not- think about this, and it almost wasn't worth the effort, but she made the fucking cookies so whatever. Wandering the server almost felt nostalgic, of earlier times where her house was- where - um. Well,

Ok she didn't care about most of the shit that was outside her family, but she was sure it was something! Maybe.

Wandering around turns out to take very long, and be very annoying quick. Then again, the sights are nice. When she finds what she thinks(?) hopes more like, is Cellbit's house(?) her tail thumps down impatiently on the ground. If this was the wrong house she'd just go home and eat the cookies herself and give some to Juana, cause she did not want to wander all around again. Maybe give them to the first person she saw or something.

She raised a a hand, and without fear knocked. Cellbit said xey'd gut her, but xey hadn't so! What was there to fear? Jokes on xem either way she was into that.

[ @catboyarg ]

[thebibutterflyao3]

Need a dopamine fix? Enjoy another kitty photo-dump! Obsessed!

[lovelyspooks]

He’s so subby, good lord I need him on my strap NEOW!!!

[leafdrake-haven]

Making my cat deck and pulling things out and being cutthroat and just counted and it’s….. 51 nonland cards including my commander….. I get to….. put cards back in? That’s allowed???? I don’t think this has ever happened to me before 0.o

[ikeprinces-stuff]

Finished William T-Rex's route...

Finally...

I didn't enjoy his route very much... 😬

Because of my laziness, it took me two months to finish it from the time the game was released until today...

Don't get me wrong, I liked him as a character but not to the point of making him my no. 1 favorite

The CG is pretty tho, I like how Komadori look here