#blue/purple/black sounds good maybe?

[rotteneldritchhorror]

Trying to come up with safewords Rafe would use cause he’d absolutely think the traffic-light system is stupid lol

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC "Pick Me Up"

The stream goes live on the first day of the school year. It's the usual song and dance - mad laughing, threats, poor jokes, terror, and about thirty kids huddled together in a classroom behind Joker's back. Tim recognizes it as one of the Gotham Academy classrooms. Dick can't imagine the horror those kids' parents must be feeling right now. Jason jokes about middle school traumatic experiences. Damian is feeling very justified for skipping classes today.

Bruce, all suited up in his Batman garb, is making his way to the Academy as fast as he possibly can. Those are kids.

Gotham is once again anxiously kept on the edge of their seats, watching as Joker decides to interview the kids on their learning experience so far. Something about leaving a good first impression on the new generation or some other bullshit. Most kids stutter over their words - it's true that Gothamites are way more composed when facing life-threatening events, but those kids are only fourteen or fifteen for the most part. They are not old enough to keep their cool in the face of a murder clown.

That is, until Joker points his camera at one of the girls. Black hair in a high ponytail, blue eyes without a trace of fear, a slightly displeased, even bored expression on her face. She looks straight into the camera, not even waiting for the laughing madman to finish his question, and deadpans:

"I don't think I like school. Pick me up, please."

Joker sputters.

"Not so scared, I see," he sneers, and, in the next moment, a comically large gun painted in purples and greens is pointed to the girl's forehead, "How about now?"

The girl scrunches her nose and makes a so-so gesture.

"It's kinda meh," she admits, "Like, yeah, points for style, but you know, size doesn't matter. It's all in the technique."

Dick snorts over the comms. It's a bad time for laughing, sure, but the phrase caught him off-guard. This is not what you'd expect to hear from a teen, and definitely not something you'd expect anyone to say to the Joker. Jason's comms are muted, but Barbara knows he also laughed a little.

"Technique, you say?" Joker hisses, pressing the gun closer to the girl's head, and she winces, leaning away from it, almost as if she is disgusted by the touch.

"Yeah, I mean, guns are not that scary anyway. What are you gonna do with them, blast my brains all over the floor? Been there, done that," the girl shrugs, "Kinda nasty, but overall, it's just like slime, only sticky." She pauses and looks to the side, seemingly lost in thought, "Huh, maybe we should have added Borax to it. Or was it baking soda?.."

"Listen here, you little brat," Joker's fingers catch the girl's chin, and his voice becomes sickeningly menacing. Bruce is almost there, just two more minutes. Tim is already grappling onto the wall.

But none of them get to finish.

"Put your dirty fingers away from my sister," a low, cold, and even in a way that speaks of barely contained fury, voice comes from out of the screen.

The camera spins, like whoever is holding it turned really fast, and everyone watching the stream sees a fairly normal guy standing by the window - a turtleneck and ripped jeans, same black hair as the girl, same blue eyes... Wait, they are not blue.

And that's not a guy.

The camera falls down to the floor, and there are a lot of panicked screams coming from the broadcast now, but none of them sound like children's voices. It's the screams of adults, of grown-ass men, and later, someone even claimed they heard Joker's scream among them, too. The picture on camera glitches a few times, and the angle is awkward, but everyone still gets to see how shadows in the room morph into eyes, wide open and green, and how the darkness grows sharp teeth, countless grinning mouths that don't belong to any faces.

Screams turn into gargling and then to quiet whispers, filling the ears of all those listening with countless words in languages they don't know.

Red Robin turns off the recording and looks to that same guy from the levestream, sitting across him on the couch. The guy - Daniel, or Danny, as he introduced himself - looks him in the eyes and raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, and?"

"How did you do it?" Tim asks for the third time this evening. Danny blinks.

"Did what?" He asks, completely incomprehending. Tim groans. He's been trying to get his answers, any answers at this point, from the guy for thirty fucking minutes already. So far, he's got nothing. Danny, whoever the fuck he is, proves to be the most annoying human being on Earth.

"Seven people in a coma, including Joker himself, with no physical injuries and none of the children remember a thing! How?!" He demands, and a girl's face peeks from around the corner:

"I remember!"

Tim snaps his head at her, "What do you remember?"

The girl pauses, blinks, and looks to Danny. Then shrugs, "My brother picked me up from school."

Tim drops his head down and breathes out in frustration. He can't force the information out of civilians, he is a vigilante, not a mafia.

"Would it make you feel better if I promise not to do it again?" Danny asks, and his voice is way too innocent for Tim to believe him. He raises his head to look the guy in his shameless, amused eyes.

"I hate you."

"Thanks," Danny grins.

[nightingale-prompts]

Space Fae- DCxDP prompt

So ending up in another dimension wasn't necessarily part of the plan. The plan was to stop the portal from being opened and letting countless demons flooding the mortal realm.

Constantine had said portals were finicky and interrupting the summoning can throw off the destination that the portals go to. But not the hell sounded pretty good.

So Tim might have "accidentally" ended up on the other side of said portal after attempting to see what was in it. He didn't actually think he'd fall in.

On the other side, he ended up in what he thought was a lounge. It looked like one or maybe it was a living room.

Regardless 4 tall luminescent figures looked at him from their reclined positions.

Their bare starry skin was bearly covered by translucent shawls. Their bodies were dappled with constellations against their colarshifting skin, it was like looking at space itself but cut out and melded to humanoid forms. It was clear they felt no need to cover themselves when they were so radiant as is.

The figure in the center of the room who was reclined on a fainting couch laid her eyes on him. Her eyes were a glittering blue surrounded by amber lashes. Her long hair was a metallic copper that moved like molten metal. She was the tallest as she stood up reaching 10 feet. You'd think she was a goddess at first glance. Her shroud covered her head to toes stopping short of the floor. She donned copper rings and necklaces around her with form.

The other 3 figures gazed at Tim with curiosity.

The tallest male had red patterns of stars on his skin like a dying cosmos against his dark skin. The main difference between him and the tallest female was her skin glittered with hues of purple stars against the black space. But he was mostly void. His eyes glowed like blazing red dwarfs determined to not go without a fiery blaze of glory. His ashen-tinted shroud was wrapped around his hips with a silver pin. His hair was a metallic silver. The only part of him that caught the light. He crossed his arms as he stared down at Tim at 9 feet tall.

The smallest girl stood only 7 feet tall. Her white hair flowed upwards in a ponytail that moved like a cloudy mist. Her skin was a bright cluster of colors like fireworks. Her skin was so bright the black spaces of her skin didn't exist yet because the space she embodied was so young and new. She mainly shined shades of blue and white of new stars Her green eyes were so bright they glowed a mint green. Here shroud was tied around her like a dress with a golden chain. She bounded towards Tim only to be stopped by the last of the figures who leaned down to meet Tim's gaze.

The last one was male...kind of. Male and female of these beings were judged only by their outlines so far and their way of wearing their translucent coverings. But this last one was neither but completely breathtaking. Their Lazarus green eyes framed by silver eyelashes like fresh powdery snow. Their long white locks reflected like the morning sun shining off untouched snow making holographic like rainbows ripple down the hair. His skin was a swirling mass of cloudy green stars. The center of their body made up the center of a rotating galaxy around a star. His shroud was tied in a toga that fell off one shoulder. He accessorized with jade bracelets and earrings that glowed eerily on his arms, legs, and neck.

The 8-foot-tall being placed a finger under Tim's chin and smiled kindly. He said something to the others and a language he didn't know. It sounded like humming.

There was something in that sound like it promised everything Tim had ever wanted could be found here. Limitless knowledge, love, and someone who understood him in every way.

Then Tim was thrusted back into his dimension with faint memories of his time there. Learning, flying, a warm embrace, and the faint taste of nectar on his lips. The memories faded to vague dreams when he crossed the threshold and only minutes had passed since he left.

[starry-bi-sky]

(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)

...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.

She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.

Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.

The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.

Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.

He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.

He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.

But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.

And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.

His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.

Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.

Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.

"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.

"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more

Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"

Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.

On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.

And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.

Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.

Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?

She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.

Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."

She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?

Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."

"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."

Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."

The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.

She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.

But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.

"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.

Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."

Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.

(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)

"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."

"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."

"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"

Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."

Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."

It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.

"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.

Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.

She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.

"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."

(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)

(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)

Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.

Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."

With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.

[natalievoncatte]

Alex worked the skin of her forehead with her fingers, angrily kneading the flesh in a vain attempt to suppress a pounding headache.

“I’m telling you, I’m fine,” Kara insisted.

She was not fine, damn it! Kryptonite exposure was serious, even if it had no apparent, immediate effects. The little chunk of vibrant purple rock was currently in a lead-lined chamber where Brainy was mercilessly prodding at its secrets, trying to figure out exactly what it did other than make Kara sweat profusely when she was within ten feet of it.

“I don’t feel sick. What’s the big deal?”

“Red Kryptonite didn’t make you sick at first, either,” said Alex. “You’re not leaving the Tower until I’m certain you’re not going to track down Cat Grant and fling her off the nearest roof.”

Kara, seated on her hospital bed in the med bay, crossed her arms and pouted theatrically. “That was one time.”

She sounded a little brittle, probably because they didn’t talk about that. Well, they did -Kara cried for hours- but afterwards the whole thing became a sore spot and it was clear they they weren’t going to talk about it again. Alex could hear the little crack in Kara’s voice, the touch of strain that signaled how on edge she was.

“Running off and hiding won’t make it any less real, kiddo,” Alex sighed. “Once we’re sure you can go, but no Supergirl for at least a week. I don’t know if what that stuff did to you, but I don’t want to risk your powers shutting off while you’re thirty thousand feet up, or something.”

Kara huffed. Fine.

It was an abundance of caution, to be sure, but the others could pick up the slack. Kara had taken breaks before, and the world didn’t fall apart. Sometimes Alex wanted to just grab her and shake her for all the good it would do. Kara deserved some time off. She deserved to be a person too.

“What’s going on?”

Alex looked up and tried to conceal her relief as Lena walked into the room. Alex liked this new Lena a lot more, the Lena who ran a charitable foundation and didn’t straighten her hair anymore and wore hoodies most of the time. This Lena was friend-shaped, as it were, and put her at ease.

Almost.

“Kara was exposed to a new form of Kryptonite, and…”

And she was off the bed.

Kara was already on her feet. Her pupils were so dilated that her eyes were almost black, the blue almost absent. She was staring at Lena with such an intensity that Alex was afraid she was about to attack her.

Lena looked panicked, but not by the Kryptonian staring her down. “What? Where is it? I need to see it right now, what if…” Lena trailed off, her face going slack for just a moment.

Alex stared at her. What the fresh hell was this?

“Guys?” said Alex. “What’s wrong with… you…”

Kara stalked forward, walking in a hip-popping sashay that would have made a Victoria’s Secret model blush, surging into Lena’s personal space, and… sniffed.

Then sniffed again.

Kara was smelling her.

“Uh,” said Alex.

Lena looked up at her -in flat shoes she was noticeably shorter- and sniffed back. Alex’s jaw went slack.

“Okay,” said Alex. “I’m going to need one of you to explain why you’re doing… that. Like right now.”

They both ignored her. Lena slipped in close, ducking under Kara’s chin, and sniffed at her again. It looked quite a bit like she was about to press her mouth to Kara’s throat, which was both shocking and… seriously, five fucking years of these idiots shooting and missing was bad enough, but right in front of her?

“Hey,” Alex said, taking a step towards the door. “Uh, we good?”

Kara wrapped Lena up in her powerful arms and nuzzled her nose into Lena’s hair, her chest thrumming with a loud purring sound.

“I’m in the room,” Alex deadpanned.

“Alex,” Brainy called, rushing up the hall.

A powerful… scent, or maybe an odor, washed over Alex and she nearly gagged. Whatever it was, it was making Lena try to climb Kara like a tree. The moment Lena popped one of the snaps on Kara’s cape and it fell halfway off her back, Alex bolted for the door and yanked it shut behind her as she stumbled into the hallway.

Brainy was outside, snd Nia was with him.

“Alex, I have good news. The radiation from the lavender Kryptonite sample appears to be entirely benign, although curiously it seems to have activated some anatomical peculiarities that appear to be, so to speak, left over from the evolutionary ancestors of Kryptonians.”

Alex groaned. “Such as?”

“Scent glands, and a peculiar ability to-“

“Guys,” said Nia. “What is that noise?”

Brainy paused, focusing. “I believe that Lena just addressed Kara as…”

“Did she say ‘daddy’?” said Nia.

“Shut up!” Alex barked, slapping her hands over her ears. “I am not hearing this, tralalalalalalala I’m going to the bar!”

“Yeah, I’m coming too,” said Nia.

Brainy turned, listening.

“Evidently, so is Lena.”

“I hate my life” Alex muttered.

[candycandy00]

I Got a Goth Santa Boy for Christmas! - A Dabi x Reader Fanfic

You ask Santa for a hot goth guy to fuck you stupid. Dabi shows up at your door. 

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Dabi as Santa’s Helper. Spanking. Degradation. Humiliation. Squirting. Faint Praise. 

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

Part of CandyCandy’s Kinkmas 2024!

It’s Christmas Eve, a little before midnight, when you hear a knock at your door. You’d just settled in with a mug of hot cocoa and a blanket on the couch, ready to watch looping classic Christmas cartoons as you fall asleep. But before Santa can even begin bullying poor Rudolph, you get interrupted. 

Sighing as you peel the blanket off and sit down your mug, you wonder who could be knocking on your door at this hour. You went to a small Christmas party at a friend’s house earlier today, but if you’d left something there they would have just texted you, right?

The knocking is getting insistent as you reach the door. “Alright already!” you yell as you unfasten the lock and swing the door open. “Stop knocking so loud on Chris-“

Your voice dies in your throat, because what you find on the other side of the door is a very strange sight indeed.

It’s a man in a bizarre Santa suit. The parts that should be red are jet black, and the edges of the coat are frayed and stitched at odd angles. He’s wearing black gloves and boots, both a little too stylized and a little too shiny leather to fit the Santa look. His hair, what you can see of it beneath the black Santa hat, is snowy white and his eyes are bright blue. He has piercings dotting his face and ears, but what strikes you most of all are his scars. 

Rich purple burn scars cover the lower half of his face and form half circles under his eyes. They contrast beautifully with the blue, making his eyes seem to glow. 

He’s gorgeous. And he’s so very much your type that if a friend saw him out in public, they’d snap a photo of him and send it to you. 

You finally find your voice again. “Uh, can I help you?”

He looks at you with an almost bored expression. “Yeah, I heard a naughty little slut lives here. That you?”

Your jaw nearly drops. “Excuse me?!”

“Oh? Did I get the wrong place again?” he asks, pulling an electronic tablet from his coat and tapping the screen to turn it on. He looks from the screen to your face, then holds the tablet out for you to see. “This is you, right?”

On the screen is a picture of you with your name and address beneath it. “That’s me,” you say, “but I’m not a slut!”

He pulls back the tablet and taps the screen a few times. “Really? We got this letter from you. ‘Dear Santa, send me a hot goth guy to fuck me stupid for Christmas!’ Didn’t you write that?”

Your face immediately burns with embarrassment. You did write that. As a joke. And you never showed it to anyone, much less mailed it. How the hell did this stranger get ahold of it?!

You cross your arms defensively. “Even if I did write that, as a joke, it doesn’t mean I’m a slut!”

He taps more on the tablet. “Maybe not, but Santa’s surveillance network is pretty good. We’ve got these videos of you playing with yourself every night.”

“WHAT?!”

Suddenly you hear sounds coming from the tablet, your own voice moaning and crying out in pleasure. The stranger grins, and you can see him using his fingers on the screen to zoom in on something. 

“Wow, look at you go! If this ain’t a horny little slut, I don’t know what is!”

You lunge forward, trying to grab the tablet, but he jerks it out of your reach, holding it up high. On the screen, you can see your own fingers rubbing your clit. “Turn it off!” you scream, absolutely mortified that this hot guy is seeing something so private. How did he get these videos?!

“Oh? Gettin’ worked up?” he asks, laughing as you continue trying to grab the device. 

“I’m not a slut,” you yell out, “I’m still a virgin!”

Both of you freeze. Did you just yell that out to a complete stranger? He’s staring at you, the video still playing, your cries reaching a crescendo as you cum on screen. His eyes flick back to the tablet. “Holy fuck. Never seen a virgin squirt like that!”

You feel tears stinging your eyes. You glare at him in silence for a moment, then step back into your apartment and slam the door in his face. 

“Hey, don’t be like that!” you hear him shout through the door. “I’m your present! You asked for me, right?”

“I didn’t ask to be humiliated!” you yell back. 

You hear him sigh. “Look, it’s not a big deal, okay? You’ve been good enough to get your wish granted, but Santa thinks you’re spending’ too much time flickin’ the bean. I’m supposed to punish you, but in a fun way, yeah?”

“What do you mean, in a fun way?”

His voice is sultry as it glides into your ear. “Let me in, and you’ll find out.”

You stand there facing the door, having a full on mental debate. Should you let him in? He’s an asshole, but he’s fucking gorgeous. You’ve been wanting to lose your virginity for a while now, and you have the hottest guy you’ve ever seen at your door, ready to do the deed. But how did he get your letter, and those videos? 

Oh shit. Santa Clause is real. And this guy works for him. 

Once you accept that, everything else starts to make sense. The guy seeming to be tailor made to fit your taste, him knowing all about you, the way he’s dressed. 

So he’s your present from Santa? 

You take a deep breath, then open the door. He’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, his back against the opposite wall in the hallway. He looks up at the sound of the door opening and gets to his feet. 

“I have a question,” you say, a little uneasily. You’re still grappling with the fact that this guy has watched you masturbate. 

He dusts off his black Santa suit. “Yeah? What is it?”

“Did they make you do this?”

He tilts his head and frowns. “They?”

“Whoever you work for. Santa or the elves or whatever.”

He bursts out laughing then. “No, doll, the elves ain’t whorin’ me out. I volunteered after they showed me those videos!”

You look up at him. “Really?”

“Yeah. Got me all riled up. And besides, those little fuckers can’t make me do anything,” he says, a smirk on his handsome face. 

That’s a relief to hear. You don’t want to do this with someone who’s here against their will. 

“So?” he asks, blue eyes gleaming. “You want your present or not?”

You step back inside your doorway and to the side, gesturing for him to come in. You can barely look at him as he walks into your apartment. You’ve fantasized about something like this for years, and you’re certainly horny enough, but now it’s actually happening. Just thinking about it makes you nervous. 

He doesn’t say anything as he follows you to your bedroom, but once there he glances at the bed and grins. “There’s a familiar spot!”

You grimace. “Please stop reminding me of that!”

“Why?” he asks, his eyes not so subtly sliding up and down your form. “You were hot as fuck in those videos.”

The comment makes you blush. Did he really like watching you? Still, you’d rather forget all about that. “Let’s just pretend that never happened, okay?”

He shrugs, standing near your bed. “Okay, so do you wanna unwrap your present now?”

Before you even answer, he’s opening up his furry black Santa coat, revealing no shirt underneath. Oh god, the scars are all over his body, making such a lurid patchwork. You can’t take your eyes off them. 

He sits down on your bed and pats his thigh. “Come sit on Santa’s lap,” he says. 

You cross over to him, your candy cane striped socks making no noise at all on the carpeted floor. You’re wearing a red tank top and green pajama shorts. Nothing fancy or sexy but it’s not like you expected any of this to happen. 

When you get close enough, he suddenly grabs your hand and pulls you over, so that you’re laying across his lap, face down. Your ass is slightly raised in the air, and you squirm a bit in surprise. 

“H-hey!” you shout, trying to wiggle off him, but one of his hands is gripping your thighs while the other is holding your back down. 

“I gotta punish this naughty little slut before we have fun,” he says as the hand on your thighs slides up, over your ass, and then hooks a thumb into the waistband of your shorts and panties. In one smooth motion he pulls them both down, exposing your ass and leaving the fabric around your knees. 

You squirm around in his lap, making a show of struggling, but the truth is that you’re more turned on than you’ve ever been in your life. He raises one hand in the air, then brings it back down in a harsh slap to your ass that makes you yelp. 

“How many do you think you deserve?” he asks, then brings down his hand again. 

You’re trying to keep from moaning, clamping one hand over your mouth, hoping he doesn’t notice how wet you are. 

Another slap. “Come on, answer the question!”

You move your hand from your mouth. “Ahh, I don’t… know!”

He laughs. “Well, tell me how naughty you’ve been and we’ll figure it out.”

Another slap. “I’ve been… very naughty!” you squeak out. 

“I can see that,” he says as his fingers slide down, between your legs. “What naughty things have you been doing?”

“Y-you already know!” you cry out, your voice shuddering as his fingers probe your wet folds. 

“Yeah, but you gotta say it, doll.”

His hand withdraws from your pussy, and you feel another slap, this time to the backs of your thighs. 

“I… I masturbate too much!” you blurt out, feeling your face burn. 

Another slap. Is it your imagination, or does his hand feel unusually warm? 

“Such a dirty little slut,” he says, giving your ass another slap. “So how many whacks does that deserve?”

“Uh… ten?”

You’re too embarrassed to look at his face, but you can practically hear the grin when he says, “Ten? Goin’ a little easy on yourself, huh doll?”

He gives your ass a firm squeeze, and you bite back another moan. Why is his hand so hot? And why is this making you so wet? 

“Well, whatever,” he says. “Ten it is. One…”

Another whack, and you twist in his lap to look back at him now. “One? You’ve already given me a bunch!”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t countin’ those.”

You groan and bury your face in the nearby pillow on your bed. If this keeps up, you’re gonna cum right here, while being spanked. 

The next nine whacks go by with you biting your knuckles, whimpering from the strain of holding back. You refuse to cum in this position, even when he pauses halfway through to rub your sore ass and dip his fingers into your quivering pussy again. 

When all ten whacks are given, he suddenly flips you onto your back on the bed, making you wince when your raw bottom collided with the mattress. Before you can complain, he jerks your shorts and panties off your ankles, pulls your legs apart, and moves between them. “Ready for the fun part?” he asks, leaning down, licking his lips. 

Oh god. You’re so ready. But you’re afraid you’ll make some embarrassing sound if you speak now, so you nod emphatically. 

Then, all at once, his face is in your pussy, his tongue parting your folds and circling your clit. Your body arches off the bed, your legs spreading wider automatically. Your breaths come quicker, shaky and hitching. 

His tongue feels so much better than your fingers! You’ve never felt anything like this, so warm and wet and moving expertly over the little nub. When his thumb takes over for a moment, rubbing your clit in a slightly rougher way, your legs begin to tremble. 

He’s looking up at you from between your thighs. “Gonna squirt for me like you did in the videos?” 

“N-no!” you say, trying desperately to contain yourself.

His thumb rubs upward on your clit, pushing back the hood, making you almost buck off the bed. “Show me how dirty you can be, naughty girl,” he says, then lets his tongue go back to work. 

You can’t stand it any longer. It just feels too good. You let out a cry as you cum, squirting all over him in the process. You squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back against the pillow, your body spasming with pleasure. Once fully spent and panting, you gather your nerve and look down. 

His face is glistening, your juices dripping from his chin. He’s licking his lips and grinning back at you. 

Face burning, you grab your own pillow and pull it over to hide your humiliated expression. But the man gently tugs it out of your grasp. “Don’t hide,” he says. “You look real cute right now.”

You slowly open your eyes. “I do?”

“Yeah. Now how about I give you the rest of your present?” he asks, drawing back on his knees and unbuckling his black leather belt. 

Oh god. It’s happening. You’re equal parts scared and excited as he opens his pants. You’ve never seen a dick in person before, though you’ve seen plenty in porn. This one is, surprisingly, very pretty. The piercings dotting it catch the light in such a lovely way, and the small patches of scar tissue contrast with his pale skin. 

He leaves on the open Santa coat as he pushes his black pants down his hips and pulls your lower half into his lap. He lines himself up, then slowly pushes in. 

You feel yourself stretching to accommodate him, and there’s a bit of a sting, but not as bad as you’ve imagined while pleasuring yourself. When he starts thrusting lightly, the friction feels good. You can feel the cool metal of the piercings and the warm heat of his hard cock as it slides in and out of you, going deeper each time. 

When he finally gets all the way in, his tip pressing against your cervix, you gasp at the fullness, at feeling him so deeply within you. 

You’re losing your virginity to a guy who works for Santa, whose name you don’t even know. But it feels so amazing, you don’t care. You clamp onto him, throwing your arms around his neck as he pounds into you. 

You hear his voice at your ear. “This what you wanted for Christmas, doll?” 

“Yes!” you cry out, gripping him harder, not wanting to ever let him go. 

He’s practically slamming into you now, your whole body jerking with his thrusts. You’re holding yourself up off the bed by clinging to his neck, and he’s got one hand on the back of your head, cradling it as he fucks you. His other hand, which had been holding your hip steady, slides down between your bodies and finds your clit. He gives it a pinch, and you moan, your mouth pressed against his collarbone. 

Now he’s rubbing small circles into it with his fingertips, and you know you can’t last much longer. Your body is already quivering again, on the edge of release. 

He gives a few more especially deep thrusts while his fingers continue stroking your clit, and you come undone. The orgasm smashes into you, making you scream out as the pleasure washes over you. 

Almost immediately after, as if he were waiting for you, the man cums inside you, clenching his teeth as he shoots his load into your waiting pussy. 

Your arms slide from his neck, and he lowers you to the bed. It takes you a long moment to catch your breath, during which he pulls out of you and buttons his pants. 

“Your name,” you mumble, still dazed. 

He looks at you. “Huh?”

“What’s your name?”

He hesitates, looks away, then mutters, “Touya.”

You laugh weakly. “I thought all Santa’s helpers were elves.”

He sits down on the edge of your bed. “Most of ‘em are. I’m a special case.”

You raise up, pulling a sheet over yourself. “Special how?”

He grins. “This is my community service, to make up for all my fuckups when I was alive.”

Your eyes widen. “Are you… dead?”

He laughs at your reaction. “Nah, dead isn’t the right term for it. ‘Between lives’ works better.”

“What does that mean?” 

“It means I was on the naughty list in my previous life. Did a whole lot of bad shit,” he replies, looking a little nostalgic. “So I got an offer. Do some good deeds for a while and start my next life with a clean slate.”

“How long is a while?” you ask. 

“Sixty-five years,” he says. 

You shoot straight up in bed. “That long?!”

He laughs again. “It’s not so bad! I help out at the workshop a few months a year and spend the off season ice skating with elves.”

You stare at him for a moment. “Are you, uh, allowed to leave the workshop?”

His eyes slide over to your face. “Why? You want me to come visit you?”

You’re immediately flustered. “No! I mean… maybe. If you want to.”

He stands up and leans over you, kissing you on the cheek. “You’re really cute right now,” he says, then straightens up and heads for your door. Before he leaves, he looks back at you. “We’re pretty bored up there around Valentine’s Day. Maybe I’ll come see you.”

You find yourself smiling. “I’d like that.”

He raises his hand in a casual wave as he walks out, saying, “Merry Christmas!”

Tag List:

@coldluminarykoala @atomicweaselpaperapricot @chocoyanchan @calculust-prime

[lilacxquartz]

on display;

suguru geto x reader x satoru gojo

plot: satoru wanted to face time while he was gone, catching you at an awkward time, or was it a good time? — plot: poly dynamics, lap grinding, smut, phone sex/video sex, f!reader — w.c: 900ish

masterlist • ao3 • more smut

Satoru was lately often busy; always needed for missions assigned by the higher-ups who claimed that there was nobody better for the job other than him and him alone. Such inconveniently timed hiccups often left both you and Suguru together all alone—which wasn’t too bad, not at all in fact, but you both missed your frosty ray of sunshine.

Missing the connecting piece to your romantic trio often made both you and Suguru lonely, pushing the two of you to seek out physical affection from each other to numb the ache. He’d often pull you close to him, demanding that you would idly spend time together tethered at the hip or sometimes… find himself in you.

You ground into Suguru’s lap for another night, the soft rolling motions circling languidly over his already erect length that strained tight against his cotton sweatpants. His big, calloused hands hovered parallel to your hips, fiercely smacking the skin of your thighs, casting a ripple within the pillowy flesh.

“Think y’can ride me?” he softly whispered into your neck, his long, silky black hair falling forward as he leaned into you. His voice sounded needy, maybe even desperate to an extent.

You hummed and nodded against his pressed form, letting him guide you up so that you hovered over his unsheathed cock that sprang out the second that he pulled his clothes down. You wiggled down in a teasing zigzag motion, just about ready to flick your hips forward but then you heard it.

That familiar jingle.

Suguru extended his hand to dig through the fabric of your jean pockets that were tossed off somewhere along the side, fishing out your mobile phone as soon as he was able to grab hold of it. His eyes narrowed as soon as he saw the caller ID, biting his lip. “Hey, it’s Satoru. Bad time, but maybe worth taking?”

Pausing for just a moment, you took hold of your phone and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning forward while quickly fixing up your hair—just a little bit. You then smiled as you picked up the call, allowing him to tune in. “Aw, hey, Satoru! How are you doing?” you asked in your usual sweet voice.

“I’m so tired like you wouldn’t believe,” he replied, sagging his shoulders into what looked like a hotel armchair. “I have been on my feel all damn day.”

“Yeah?” you replied, mirroring his pout, “they’ve been working you to the ground again?”

Satoru peeled up his blindfold, revealing his weary complexion. Deep blue and purple bags circled beneath his eyes. “You could say that again.”

He was about to say something again but then paused. His exhaustion gave way to quickly building curiosity as he took in the sight of just how… disheveled you looked—as well as the odd position you were in. With a slight raise of one of his eyebrows, he brought the phone closer as though to inspect the situation at hand.

“Are you two about to fuck?” he correctly guessed.

Immediately, you pointed the camera up to the ceiling to hide your laughter, still feeling Suguru’s cock filling out your pussy. Suguru betrayed a soft groan as you tightened around him from such convulsions, but then followed through with some laughter as well. “That obvious, huh?” you giggled, “yeah, yeah, we’re about to—”

“—I miss you both, you know,” Satoru cut you off, his voice adopting a more sultry tone. “I don’t suppose that one of you would be interested in giving me a show? It would help me unwind, you know. Maybe even relax…”

Not needing to be asked twice, Suguru pinched the phone from your grasp and then hovered the device over at a tilt that pointed at a nice, compromising overhead angle. He then mumbled something underneath his breath into your ear, smacking his free hand against the soft contours of your ass, as though to signal for you to pick up where you left off.

You, in turn, got to work right away. You ground and swivelled your hips at a hypnotic tempo, that managed to silence the two men as they watched you work your magic. Suguru couldn’t help but drive himself further into your body, thrusting in perfect rhythm with your fluid motions, letting soft grunts escape his lips as he rutted up towards your hilt. You held on tight—flinging your head forward and shuddering out breathy moans, feeling yourself—losing yourself to the blissful sensation.

Pulling back ever so slightly, you turned his chin over to face yours and pressed a heated kiss against his lips. You invaded his mouth with your tongue with loving passion, while he, too, reciprocated such passing fervour. As this happened, his phone-wielding hand drifted and panned you both out of focus, but Satoru was quick to clear his throat, reminding you both that he was still there. He tried to keep up to his best ability on the other side of the screen, after all. His shoulder slightly trembling and wiggling, hinting that he was stroking himself to the sight on display.

Suguru’s form however soon grew sloppier and you had to take over as the camerawoman, holding the phone at the best angle you could provide. With a stifling, ending thrust, Suguru then grunted in a strained voice before at last coming undone and emptying himself into the confines of your cunt. In doing so, you nearly dropped the phone as you too, finished up, hearing Satoru’s shuddering gasps follow suit as he finally caught up to the two of you.

And after a moment of mutually shared silence, the two of you were just about comfortable enough to all lay in silence and do absolutely nothing at all—all the while Satoru recollected himself with the sight of the two people that he was completely and utterly in love with—frustratingly impossibly far from reach, missing you both extremely so.

[corroded-hellfire]

AYW req if you'd like: while Reader is pregnant with Eliza, she starts getting more prominent stretch marks on her stomach & boobs & stops letting Eddie see her naked. Eddie rectifies that situation hehehehe

This was honestly so fun to write! Love featuring the kiddos but these two also need some alone time hehe 💜 @munson-blurbs and I hope you like what we've come up with

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (she's already pregnant but you should still wrap it up), semi-public sex, pregnant!reader, oral, f!receiving, breeding kink, body image issues, older!eddie, dad!eddie

Words: 3.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The late June day is sweltering as you step out of the Harrington’s house and into their backyard. The placid blue water of the pool looks refreshing and calm—or it will, until the kids get in. Luke quickly jumps in alongside Theo and Danny, the three rowdy boys immediately splashing each other and then whining about being splashed. Ryan and Natalie are decidedly less hyperactive, taking care to watch baby Amelia where she kicks herself around in her purple mermaid floaties. 

Nancy makes herself comfortable on a lounge chair a few feet away from the one you’re making your way towards. Normally you can keep up with everyone else, still being in your second trimester, but this heat has you moving slower and feeling crankier than usual. 

You can’t help but notice the way Nancy looks in her bathing suit compared to how you feel in yours. Nancy’s had four children and looks stunning as always as she lays back in her black one piece. You feel shoved into your navy suit, like every little stretch mark that mars your skin is on full display for the world to see. 

Trying to shrug it off and enjoy the invitation from the Harrington’s to have a pool day, you make yourself comfortable on your lounge chair and adjust the pale pink coverup you have on. Eddie stands near the foot of your lounge chair, shielding his eyes from the sun as he looks out at the children in the water. Your eyes feel glued to his lithe frame as he strips his shirt off. The pale skin that’s left on display practically has your mouth watering. It doesn’t matter that you’ve seen him naked countless times, your eyes still roam over his torso and the beautiful works of art he has inked on his skin. 

As Eddie rids himself of the Black Sabbath shirt, he notices the way you’re gawking at him. A smirk quirks up his handsome features and he playfully tosses his shirt at your face. Your hormones this second trimester have been no joke. The moment Eddie walks through the door after work you’re jumping on him. Your husband swore you were going to wear him out before this baby was born. Not the last week or so though, now that Eddie thinks about it. Maybe those particular horny hormones have been fading to make room for whatever new batch comes in for the third trimester. 

The sound of little feet kicking too hard beneath the water of the pool approaches you and Eddie, and you look up to see Luke swimming over towards the edge. He grins up at the pair of you, shaking the water from his curls like a dog just out of the bath. Bright blue eyes land on you and they’re doing a pretty damn good impersonation of the puppy dog look that Eddie gives you when he wants something. You know what Luke is going to ask before he even opens his mouth. 

“Wanna plaaaay with us? Please?”

Giving him a frown as you squint beneath the blazing sunlight, you shake your head. “I’m super tired, bud. Growing a baby is hard work,” you tease. You’re not technically lying—when you’re not jumping Eddie’s bones or concocting weird new food combinations, you’re sleeping— but no one needs to know that’s not the reason you don’t want to get in the pool. 

“I can play with you,” Eddie offers his son. He takes a step towards the pool and is ready to dive in when Luke wrinkles his nose up in disgust.

“Nah, I’m good,” the little Munson boy says. 

As you bring your hands up to your mouth to cover up your laughter at your son’s remark, Steve claps a hand on Eddie’s bare back.

“Gonna need some ice for that burn?” Steve whoops. 

“Shut up, Harrington,” your husband grumbles in response. Eddie takes a seat near your legs at the edge of the lounge chair. His hand finds your leg and he rubs up and down your calf, always needing to be touching you in some way. Physical comfort is something you both love to give and receive from one another, which calls for a lot of soft rubbing or absent-mindedly drawing patterns on one another’s skin. Now, Eddie’s touch is having a calming effect on you, though he didn’t even realize there was something you’re uneasy about. Your body language must change as he relaxes you though, because he tilts his head to the side as he gazes at your face.

“You feeling alright, baby?” he asks.

“Yeah, just tired.” 

If Eddie had any follow up for that, he doesn’t get the chance because Amelia kicks her way over towards Luke in the pool and hangs onto his shoulder when she’s close enough. Her hand almost slips from his wet skin, but Luke manages to catch the little girl before she can float too far away. 

“Uncla’ Eddie!” Amelia calls once she’s clinging to Luke again. 

“What’s up, Little Red?” he asks his favorite ginger niece. 

“Come in, come in!” Amelia cheers. 

“At least somebody wants me in the water,” Eddie says with a pointed look at Luke. “Anything for you, my darling Mia.”

A few minutes after Eddie’s joined the kids in the pool—who also convince Steve to come in—Nancy comes over to you, noticing how everyone else is in just their bathing suits and you’re seemingly putting on more articles of clothing. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you answer too quickly, nervously tucking your lips into your mouth. 

“Bullshit,” she counters, crossing her arms over her chest. “I have four kids; I can smell a lie a mile away.”

“Seriously, Nance, I’m fine.” You muster up a small smile, but she sees right through it, and you know it. 

You have your nose buried in a book, unaware that Nancy is reaching over the side of the pool to give Eddie’s ear a tug. 

“Jesus H. Christ!” he yelps, rubbing the affected lobe. “What was that for?”

“Go talk to your wife,” Nancy says through gritted teeth, obviously irritated at having to spell it out for him. “Marco Polo can wait.”

As Eddie attempts to get out of the pool, Amelia grabs his leg and tugs. Your husband lets out a soft chuckle and picks the small girl up.

“I’ll be back, Mia.” He presses a few kisses to the top of her wet, red hair and sets her back in the water. 

Over the top of your book, you see Eddie sauntering towards you. You slip the book back into your bag and tug your cover up tighter across your body. 

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” he asks with a smirk. “Besides that bun in the oven.”

“Just relaxing,” you say. 

“If you’re just relaxing, why did Lady Harrington threaten my life to come over here? And why aren’t you in the pool?”

The only answer you have you don’t want to tell him. And you’re not going to make up some lie to get him off your back. Eddie deserves better than that and you would never treat him with anything less than the utmost respect. That doesn’t mean you want to tell him the truth, though. You swallow embarrassment as you mutter, “I gotta pee.”

Eddie doesn’t let you get far without him though, he’s hot on your tail as you walk through the back door into the house.

“Can you please tell me what the problem is so I can at least try to fix it?” he asks once the screen door is securely closed behind him.

Silence is his only reply as you walk up the stairs to the second floor. You’re obviously upset, and your husband can’t relax until he knows what’s bothering you.

“Sweetheart, what’s the problem?” he asks again.

You stop short and spin on your heel to face him. As Eddie tries to read your face, he’s not sure if there’s more sadness or anger there. Either way, he wants to make it go away. He’d do anything. 

“This is the problem!” you say, gesturing towards your boobs and stomach. 

Eddie looks at you for a moment, brain trying to comprehend whatever it is you’re talking about. He shakes his head and gives you his response. “If I keep looking at them, this is gonna be a problem, too.” He motions to his crotch.

“I’m serious!” you yell in frustration. 

“I am, too!” Eddie says, raising his eyebrows. “Don’t forget how I got you pregnant in the first place.”

“Oh, so I can blame you for this mess?”

Eddie wrinkles his brows. “What mess?” He knows you would never refer to your baby that way, so he’s even more confused as to what you could mean.

“The stretch marks, Eds!” you lament, throwing your arms up in exasperation. “They look like an angry toddler drew lines all over my body.”

Understanding clicks inside Eddie’s brain. Why you’re so covered up. Why you didn’t want to go into the pool. But how could you ever think anything about your body wasn’t absolutely beautiful to him?

“That’s why you haven’t been all over me the past few days,” Eddie says as the realization hits him. “I thought maybe it was those horny hormones, or whatever they’re called, fading. But you…you think there’s something wrong with having stretch marks? Baby, no. It’s just your body making more room for our little sweet pea to grow. They’re beautiful, sweetheart.”

Believing him is easier said than done. You want to believe him, but battling the insecurities in your head is not something you’ve conquered yet. Now you just stand there and fiddle with the hem of your coverup, not knowing what else to say or do.

Eddie sighs and gently takes your hand into his. 

“Come with me. I wanna show you something.” 

Eddie leads you into the upstairs bathroom and shuts the door. He positions you directly in front of the mirror above the sink and stands behind you. Slowly, he moves your cover up out of the way to reveal your growing bump, stretch marks dotting the sides. 

“How on earth could you think anything about this is a problem?” he asks, his hands barely grazing your skin as he admires your tummy. “Look at you. Gorgeous bump. Cute little stretch marks from where our baby is making herself comfortable inside of you. It’s incredible, princess. Your body is literally growing a person and you’re mad at it because there are a few lines appearing on your skin?” He gives an incredulous laugh as he turns you around to face him. “Jesus, I mean, see what just talking about it does to me.” One large hand dwarfs your smaller one to press your palm to the hardening bulge in his swim trunks. 

You roll your eyes. “Please. The wind blows the wrong way and you get a boner,” you rebut. 

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Eddie says with a small groan. “Don’t say blows when I’m hard like this.”

“Can you be serious for two seconds?” Your temper is already short from the heat and the pregnancy, and his blasé attitude only makes it worse. 

Eddie cradles your cheeks in his hands. “I love you. And I love your body. I loved it before you were pregnant, and I’ll love it after, but watching you carrying our baby…fuckin’ does it for me.” He bites his lower lip as he drinks in the sight of you. “Goddamn, you look fuckin’ gorgeous like this.”

You think back to when the two of you first got together, when he’d made what you’d assumed was an offhand remark about knocking you up. Maybe it wasn’t as out of left field as you’d thought. 

As if he can read your mind, Eddie’s lips press soft kisses down your neck as he murmurs, “always dreamed about getting you pregnant. Would’ve done it a lot sooner if I’d known you’d be this sexy.” He runs a finger along a stretch mark that curves down your stomach. 

“H-How much sooner?” Curiosity asks the question for you as your back arches slightly from his touch. 

“That night,” he confirms, knowing he doesn’t have to elaborate further on what night he means, “but your stupid birth control pills ruined all my fun,” he adds with a teasing smirk. 

“They were so stupid. Sh-Should’ve stopped taking them the second I saw you.” Your voice is still timid from the emotions coursing through you, but Eddie can tell you’re finally letting him in.

Eddie throws his head back. “Fuck, baby. You got me all worked up.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” you tease, hands sliding up his wet chest and over the sparse hair. “What should we do about that?”

Eddie whines and leans in, nipping at your neck. 

“You know, I wasn’t a big fan of this bathing suit anyway,” you tell him. “The faster you get it on the floor, the faster you can be inside of me.”

Eddie gets your coverup and bathing suit off in record time. It would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so turned on. His swim trunks go next and then Eddie is lifting you up onto the bathroom counter. There’s not much time to admire his fully naked body before he gets down on his knees in front of you. You wind your fingers through the hair on the top of his head and he looks up at you with wide, hungry eyes. That look alone has you practically dripping for him. 

Eddie keeps that eye contact with you as his hands force your legs further apart and he licks a broad stripe up your folds. You’re the one to end the staring contest when the pleasure overwhelms you and your eyes flutter closed, throwing your head back. It knocks against the mirror, but you’re too caught up to notice if it hurt or not. 

On the next swipe of Eddie’s tongue, he keeps going up so his tongue is trailing the swell of your belly as well. He presses hot kisses against your bump as he works his way back down again. He repeats the motion, next time taking time to either kiss or run his tongue along the stretch marks. The physical sensation feels amazing, but paired with the way Eddie is making you feel emotionally with his tender touch is making your heart thump even faster. 

Every little movement of his makes you feel more cared for, more cherished, and sexy. He’s built you up so high that you have to give a little tug on his curls so he pulls his mouth away from your pussy.

“Need you inside. Now.”

“Anything for the woman carrying my baby.”

You pull his mouth to yours and moan against his tongue as you feel his hands roam your body. His touch soothes over the areas of your breasts where you’ve memorized the stretch marks before moving down and caressing the ones on your stomach again. 

Eddie’s hands slide up to your hips and give a quick squeeze. He gently lifts you down from the counter and spins you around to face the mirror. You brace your hands on the counter as Eddie trails soft kisses up the side of your neck.

“Want you to see how fucking hot is when I fuck you like this,” he whispers in your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver throughout your body. 

You spread your legs, but Eddie wants them farther apart. He nudges them with his knee while he rubs a hand up and down your spine. He fists his cock a few times, making eye contact with you in the mirror as he does so. The way he’s looking at you has you whimpering and whining in anticipation.

Your noises make Eddie smirk, and he lines himself up with your entrance. As he pushes in, one hand snakes around your body and rests firmly on your baby bump. 

“Fuck,” Eddie groans. “I’ll never get over how fucking perfectly we fit together.” He punctuates his statement by tilting your chin slightly upwards so you have no choice but to see yourself in the mirror. You watch as he disappears inside you, your body obeying his every command. 

When you rock your hips back against his, Eddie slips his other hand around you to rub circles on your clit. His middle finger finds it easily, slipping through your soaked folds and pressing against the sensitive bud. The feeling is too much; you have to bite your lip to keep from screaming out—the last thing you need is the Harringtons hearing your pathetic whines. 

“God, I wanna fill you up so bad, baby,” Eddie hisses, snapping into you furiously as he takes in the view of your body; the view of you watching your body. “Shit, I’d make you pregnant twice over right now if I could.” 

“W-Would you always keep me pregnant if you could?” you manage to ask between gasps and whimpers—both yours and Eddie’s. 

“Fuck,” Eddie growls. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. “I’ll go buy a damn farm right now to raise all the babies I want to put in you.”

His words make you laugh, which has you squeezing around Eddie’s cock. He moans, drawing you impossibly close against his bare chest. 

“They’re babies, not sheep, Eddie.”

“Still need the space to run around,” he muses, making you laugh again.

“I love you so—-oh! So, so much, Eddie.”

 He’s ridiculously hard inside of you, fucking into you like his life depends on it. “Shit, I love you too, princess.” His middle finger makes more frantic circles around your clit, throwing you over the edge. “You’ve got a fuckin’ vice grip today, holy shit,” he breathes, willing himself not to finish too early while still being acutely aware of his surroundings. 

Your fingers dig into the countertop as each thrust brings you closer to your orgasm. “Right—right there,” you pant, fighting back a moan. “Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop.” You come, aided by his magic fingers and your raging hormones, with a soft whine of his name. 

“‘M right there, shit, you’re the best little fucktoy,” he grunts. The hint of degradation has you clenching around him again; of course, he immediately takes notice of it. “Y’like that? Y’like being my pregnant little fucktoy? Knocked up with my baby and still beggin’ for more?”

“Y-Yes, sir,” you stutter, smiling at the reaction your response brings. 

Eddie’s pistoning his hips into you, whispering directly in your ear, “So good, so fucking good f’me. Gonna come so deep in this little pussy, mkay? Gonna keep you pregnant, just like you want.” 

With a guttural groan, he spills into you. His breath is hot on your shoulder blade as he stays inside, not wanting to withdraw right away. You’re not complaining either, until—

“Are you two finished in there?” Steve’s irritated voice beckons from the other side of the door. Your already sweaty body heats up even more, realizing you’ve been found out. Something about it is also oddly hot, but it’s not the best time to think about that with Eddie still inside of you and Steve on the other side of the door. 

“Just a sec!” Eddie calls back, giving your earlobe a gentle nibble as he pulls out, scooping up the cum that’s dripping down your bare leg and stuffing it back into your pussy. “Had to clean you up,” he murmurs with a salacious grin. 

The two of you put your swimsuits back on and fix yourselves as best as you can before Eddie opens up the bathroom door. 

Steve just rolls his eyes, barreling past you as he mutters, “Dammit Munson; you already got her pregnant. Relax.”

[yelenasdiary]

Reader x Vampire!Kate at a halloween party where reader thinks Kate is just a hot girl in a really good vampire costume (instead of those crappy fake plastic teeth) and doesn’t realize until Kate is buried deep inside her, strap and teeth, that she just is an actual vampire

Hunger

Pairing: Vampire! Kate Bishop x GN! Reader

Summary: A fun hook up turns your life upside down. 

Dark Angst, Smut 18+ ONLY! Minors & Men, DNI!!

Warnings: Top! Kate, Strap On Use, Oral (R Receiving), Fingering (R Receiving),  Mentions of Blood, Kinda Murder? But also, Not? Mentions of drinking | 1.5K

AC: Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy! x

October Special Masterlist 2024

The room was vibrant with different costumes, small talk and chilling laughter. With a drink in your hand, your eyes were locked on the tall dark-haired woman from afar. You watched as she mingled with those around her while she sipped on the drink in the red plastic cup in her hand, just wondering who she was. Unable to take your eyes off her, you were glad you decided to go with dressing up as Wednesday Addams with some of the compliments you received from people passing by you. 

“Your costume looks great! You’re killing it with that stare too!” One would comment, making you break character to give them a light chuckle and a thank you before your eyes would drift back to the unknown woman. With a few more sips of your drink, you decided to talk to her. Walking through the small crowd of people, you finally greeted her with a soft smile. 

“I like your costume” you said, now closer to her you were able to really take in the detail she had put into the outfit. Her long cloak from afar looked black but up close you could tell it was a dark purple, the inside was a shade of lighter purple. “It’s the best I’ve seen here tonight” you added as she turned around to face you. Her purple vest stood out perfectly against the black shirt she wore underneath, you liked the fact she didn’t go for the standard black and red vampire look. 

“Thank you” she smiled, “your costume is great! Can never go wrong with Wednesday” she added with a light chuckle. You couldn’t help notice how high quality her fangs were, they looked natural as if she was born with them. 

“Oh this? Thanks! I just threw it together last minute” 

“You must be one of many talents then” the woman whose blue eyes danced with the fairy lights that hung from the roof, smiled softly. “I’m Kate” she added. 

“Y/n, this might be a little too forward but forgive me, can I get you a drink?” You offered. Kate nodded, “you’re in luck, I just finished mine” 

You gave Kate a soft smile before you wandered over to the drinks table and pour the two of you a fresh drink before returning to her.

“So, Y/n, do you always stare at people at parties?” Kate asked, taking you by surprise. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry” you said with light laughter, “I really was admiring the details of your costume. I thought I did a somewhat decent job at not making it obvious that I was staring” you add. 

“It’s more of like a sixth sense, but I’m glad you like my costume” Kate smiled, easing your worries that you might have scared her off. The tips of her fangs piercing over her bottom lip gave you another reason to admire them once more before the soft sound of the next radio hit song started to play in the background. Kate’s head naturally starts bopping to the tune, “would you like to dance?” You asked.

“You dance, do you?” She questioned. 

“Not the best but I’m pretty sure nobody will notice that since most people are already tipsy or drunk” you replied with a light chuckle. 

“Maybe your moves will cover up my horrible moves then” Kate smiled once more before the two of you moved away from the corner of the room. 

The cheap LED light strips flicker between red and orange colors, Kate’s hands placed on your hips while you twirl in her hands. She pulls you closer into her allowing you to press yourself up against her, there’s no point in acting as though you didn’t feel the packing bulge in her black jeans. You look up at her with a soft smirk, “sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you” Kate whispers, playfully. 

“It’s a good startle” you replied. 

You move together, losing themselves to the music, your bodies swaying in perfect harmony. The environment around you fades like magic as if it’s just you and Kate in the room. She leans down slightly from behind you, “do you wanna get out of here?” She whispers closely to your ear. You nodded softly with a growing smile on your lips.

----

Your soft moans filled the room of Kate’s studio apartment, one hand tangled in her hair while the other gripped the black silk sheets of her bed. Her tongue swirling around your clit while two fingers pumped in and out of you. “G-god!” You moaned, throwing your head back, “don’t s-stop!” You added as Kate began to lap at your soaked cunt, removing her fingers to dive her tongue inside you. 

“F-fuck!” The word left your lips between moans, Kate’s tongue speeding up, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. Your heartbeat fastened, your back began to arch, you were close until she stopped, teasingly. 

“Hey!” You groaned as Kate kissed up your body to your neck and finishing at your lips. “I just want to see how pretty you look for me when I sunk myself into you” she spoke while she leant back and began to undo her belt. Your cunt throbbed for more, your hand wandering down to touch yourself only to be pushed away by the brunette, “don’t you dare” she said, her eyes flickering up at you as she finally released her purple strap from her jeans. 

She slid the tip of the fake cock between your wet folds, making you moan once more when she brushed over your clit before slowly sinking into you. She allowed you a moment to adjust to her but with the alcohol in your system and her hovering over you with her deep blue eyes, you couldn’t help yourself by pulling her down to your lips and kissing her. 

“Please move” you smiled sweetly against her lips before she began to move her hips. She started slowly, capturing your every soft moan and the way your eyes slightly rolled back while she pumped in and out of you. “God, I bet you taste so sweet” she groaned as she sped up her movements. 

You didn’t catch onto her words as she lent down, placing kisses on your neck. The blood rushing through your veins making her run her tongue over her lips with hunger while she continued to leave marks on your neck. Your nails digging into her naked and cold back, drawing small lines of blood as Kate drew back her fake cock just to thrust it back into you.

The feeling of the tips of her fangs brushing against your neck made you throw your head back ever so slightly, allowing her more access to your neck. One of Kate’s hands found yours, interlocking fingers with you just as you arched your back, pressing up against her. She couldn’t take it for a second longer, her fangs fully exposed before the sunk into your neck at the perfect timing. Your orgasm took over your body, your legs shook, locking Kate in place by wrapping them around her waist.

The warm and velvety taste of your blood quickly became addictive to the vampire. The sharp pain of her fangs sucking your blood straight from the source overlooked with pleasure. Your soft moans in her ear making her crave more, sinking her fangs deeper before you were shortly hit with horror as she sucked the life from you. Like letting the air of a balloon free, you felt her stealing your blood, her strong body keeping you from pushing her off. Your nails digging deeper into the skin of her back as your vision faded to a cold darkness.  

It took every bone in her ice-cold body to stop herself from killing you completely. She pulled back, the last precious drops of your blood falling from her fangs, staining the sides of her lips before she licked them clean and with care, she slowly pulled out of you before she took off her strap and left the room to grab a warm washcloth. She cleaned you up thoroughly, placing an ice pack over the bite mark where her fangs once were before she sat in the armchair in the corner of her room.

She often found herself sitting here and watching another busy street in New York crowding with people but this time, her chair was facing her bed. The faint and slow sounds of your heart beating made her wonder why she hadn’t put you out of your misery completely. Your blood a curse to her, she would never be able to taste you like this again.

With every passing minute, your heartbeat got closer until eventually Kate was sitting in complete silence. Her eyes glued to you as you began to wake up, your eyes now a deep red as you looked around the unfamiliar room before you sat up. Kate smiled softly as she watched the red in your eyes fade to a pot of honey like color, your mouth opened slightly to speak, “I know sweet thing” Kate said before any words could leave your lips. 

“You’re hungry” she added.

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[billskeis]

Hello!

I wanted to ask if it's possible that you write double smut with bill and tom? Like, they share her? At the same time, of course 😏

Thank you.

ᡣ𐭩 the kaulitz twin’s after-party “party”

“hey y/n! glad you could make it!” bill exclaimed as the two of you exchanged kisses on each side of the cheek, “thank you guys for inviting me!! ‘nd congrats on the awards, i’m so proud of you guys, hi tom!” you reach out an arm to hug the older twin, his arm wrapped around your waist lingering tightly, and longer than expected.

a smirk frames his face, “lookin’ good tonight,” you playfully spin around in your dress as you blush at his flirts, “oh you, you know i had to; couldn’t show down for my two best friends!”

and that’s what you guys would call it. best friends. you were there when tokio hotel weren’t tokio hotel. devilish, black question mark. since the beginning of time, you supported the four on their rockstar journey whilst also venturing yours. being one of the top soloists right now, tokio hotel and you were a hit! however, what comes with being so close with the twins, comes unwarranted feelings.

the twins eyed you up and down, and eyes just had to linger a little longer than they should’ve to where you’d noticed. cheeks flushed. you stood there in a little tight number, standing tall with your red black pumps.

adjusting themselves, bill clears his throat whilst tom adjusts his t-shirt collar, is it getting hot in here? you can’t help but look down at your heels, feeling small between the kaulitz twins that tower each one of your sides.

“so uh, y/n, you.. busy after this?” tom asks, your eyes widen at the sudden question. what could they possibly want to do after their after party? you were hoping to just go home and rest, considering your busy schedule that consumed most of your social life, but staying up a little later couldn’t hurt right? you take a swig of your alcoholic beverage as you smile, “nope! wanna do something?”

mischievous. as one would call it, the look on their faces. you, oblivious, were not aware of their intentions behind such a question. maybe you weren’t smarter than you looked, or perhaps you were. but you definitely didn’t have any social cues when it came to men. tom wrapped an arm around your waist yet again, you let it rest there. it’s a friendly gesture, to protect you from other men of course!

that was half true.

“let’s go to ours, we have better drinks there,” bill suggests.

that was a total lie.

“but what about the after party?” you cocked your head to the side in genuine curiosity. why would the twins leave their own party that they hosted for their band? odd, you thought, but because it wasn’t your party to begin with and you were JUST a guest, there was no point in further questioning it.

“don’t worry about it, georg and gustav are handling it, see?” as tom points towards the crowd to find double g gyrating with one another and some fans.

you laugh, not realizing that the two of them now have you enclosed even closer between them. as tom’s arm still remains, bill’s hand adorns your shoulder.

“shall we?” he asks.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“i—um—fuck! we.. shouldn’t be doing t-this..” saying that aloud sounds stupid, because how could anybody believe you while you slam your hips down onto tom’s lap, bill’s lips attached to your neck as he paints your neck with various shades of blue, reds and purple.

tom groans as your silky walls clench down on his length, tip hitting your g spot as you wince out in pleasure, “relax baby, paparazzi didn’t follow us back so you have nothing to worry about,” bill unlatches his mouth from your neck, a string of saliva remaining as he giggles looking at the state he’s left your upper body in.

“perfect,” a pleased hum emits from bill as he frees his hard-on from his boxers, whining as the cold air hits his throbbing and needy member.

with a shudder, bill guides one of your hands to the head of his tip, smearing the pre all over the sensitive mushroom head as you work your way up and down his cock.

“oh fuck, just like that..” bill placing his hand over yours in an aid to jerk him off as he would himself, kissing atop of your mouth as his tongue piercing glides over your oral cavity, feeling every nook and cranny of your mouth that has you gasping for more. with a lack of attention, tom pouts as you prioritize bill over him. tilting his pelvis, tom jerks his hips into yours, abusing your walls at a new angle that ends up deepening your kiss with bill, squeezing the head of his cock, “mmphh!”

“tom. be nice.”

“she can handle it, right y/n? you can handle this dick..” tom says with a low chuckle.

melting into the kiss, both you and bill ellicit sweet little cries to one another, “i did it ‘cause i wanted more attention, schatz,” you hear from behind you. as you break the kiss between you and bill turning your head to face the figure you rode, that looks at you with puppy dog eyes.

your cunt is already sensitive, it’s been about two hours since you’ve guys began, well, this. you really wondered how you got yourself into such a mess. maybe it was the way that tom’s little movements on you had your knees buckling, or the way that bill’s smile warmed your heart. you think to yourself, you’re just friends. juuuust friends.

friends don’t do the things you’re doing.

while getting off of tom’s lap, you position yourself onto bill’s, cunt already leaking onto his member and wasting no time and sliding down on his length. bill grips balls of sheets into his fists as he restrains himself from taking you all for himself, “oh gott, y-y/n,” his mouth hanging low as he lets out a strained sob from how sensitive he is. you’re warm, and still tight, and bill can’t help but feel as though he’s in heaven.

tom is still and watches with wide eyes as he soon realizes your mouth engulfs his dick, tongue swirling over his tip as you messily spit and drool saliva all over his cock, “damn.. you little minx, didn’t think ya’d be into this,” holding your hair into a makeshift ponytail with his hand, using his opposite to pet the top of your head, bobbing up and down.

bill hands hold each side of your ass as he guides your hips up and down his cock, biting his lip as he gasps from how greedily your pussy swallows his cock, “such a slut huh? like the way we take you at the same time.. one cock wasn’t enough, you needed two?” be nice, he said. fucking hypocrite. his dirty words are mean, but have an inverse impact on you as your cunt tightens around him along with a moan vibrating in your throat, tom curses, “oh fuck ‘m not gonna last long..”

tom does everything in his power to hold himself from fucking his hips into your mouth, but it also isn’t helpful considering the fact that bill’s thrusts from behind pushes tom further down your throat. “shitshitshit, bill.. ya close?” “m-mmhm..”

like a pig roasted on a spit, like the slut you truly are, holes fucked by your two best friends, your hips and mouth stutter to escape both ends.

“gonna cum sweet girl?” tom asks as he cups your cheek with one hand, thumb swiping over the tears that spill from the ongoing pleasure that surges through your body. both twins are close as well, eager to finish as there’s an unrelenting tempo to bill’s thrusts and tom hastily working his hands on your head in guiding your mouth, fully savouring his taste.

“coming..!”

one quick thrust all at once, you slightly gag on tom and tense your body as the three of you came simultaneously, shaky and trembling. cum paints your insides from opposite ends, filling you to the brim as electricity jolts from the inside out. as bill and tom empty their loads, they finally let out, you’ve managed to swallow all of tom’s, but bill’s seeps from between your legs.

quickly, bill shoves his fingers into your cunt, leaving them there as you wail, ‘b-bill!’ overstimulated, he scoffs jokingly, letting out a quick ‘what?’ as he then removes his fingers admiring his cream-pie.

laying flat on the bed, your body slightly twitches from the lingering pleasure. tom reaches out to hand you a water-bottle as bill uses a warm washcloth to clean you up. thanking the two, both join you in the king-sized bed for a long needed cuddle session.

now let’s just say, the media has found a new scoop on their new hit rockstars.

but you’ll deal with that tomorrow morning!

guys am losinggg my mind i miss my moots i missed my passion for writing i miss thriving :c lmk if i suck i’ll do better

interact if ur still active , pls </3 pls comment and talk 2 me i wanna be more engaging

[brucewaynehater101]

That Wingless Wing AU, I’m guessing that it’s probably like a 25-75 of whether people have wings or not? Because otherwise Jack and Janet wouldn’t hate the idea of wings, because they’d be normal, expected.

Anyway, what would the wings look like? Would they be regular bird wings? Angel wings? Bat wings? Dragon or devil wings? Any and all combinations? What do you think everyone’s wings would look like, and is there any meaning behind them?

Also, if the Joker removed Tim’s wings, I can only guess that it would leave a NASTY couple of scars. It would be easy enough to hide them… at least until Tim gets injured. How do the Batfam react when they realize what happened?

Finally, you specifically used the word “hybrid” to refer to winged people. Does that mean they have other instincts/characteristics, and are there other types of hybrids?

(Sorry it’s such a long ask!)

Og post for anyone who wants to check it out!

Fantastic questions! Let's get into it ^^

I didn't think about specifics for winged/hybrid population distribution, but it would be on the lower side. Less than 50%, but you could play the Drakes' attitude as a common sentiment of rich folk (something about dehumanization, lack of rights, history, increased prevalence of hybrids, etc).

In Gotham, the social attitude about hybrids is better. The Waynes are famous for their wings, after all, and Martha Wayne had gorgeous wing decorations/jewelry.

As far as wing type, it depends on how far you want the AU to go. For this one specifically, it's simpler for there to only be winged hybrids. This still opens the AU for tons of exploration on the types of wings each person has (although, I'm curious if Penguin is a hybrid and how that works).

Overall, their instincts/needs/behaviors are similar. There may be some small distinctions (like wing type care or personality), but they all desire connection, a nest (both in a metaphorical "home" sense and a physical cuddling space), helping their loves ones, preening, and calls/coos/vocal stuff (not all of them are birds). Add more if you'd like!

Dick's wings are colorful. He's also more vocal and cuddly. He's often cooing and being physically affectionate with others (such as rubbing his face against someone else like some birds do).

Jason's were white. Because of his inability to take care of them, they were grey/dirty and wilted at first. If you want to hc the Lazarus Pits gave him his wings back, then they came back black (like a crow or raven).

Oof.... So I know I said Joker saw Tim as a bird with his wings... But I really love the idea of Tim having dragon wings. They had holes and were shriveled due to his constant disuse and the amulet. The wings he makes for Robin are mechanical bird ones, but he does miss his own wings.

Cass isn't a hybrid, but she does understand the others' instincts. She gets eerily good at mimicking different calls and will be first to drag someone into the nest.

Steph has gorgeous bird wings that are one vibrant color. Purple sounds like a cop out, so maybe a midnight blue or deep pastel yellow.

Damian and all of the al Ghuls have bat wings. Bruce, on the other hand, has red wings that he uses black temp die for patrols.

Jim Gordon doesn't have wings. He would not have made it to Commissioner if he did (anti-hybrid sentiment has gotten better, but not enough). I can't decide if Barbara should have wings or not. Either way, she can't use them when she becomes paralyzed :(

Duke's wings are either orange or yellow with cool black highlights and patterns to them ^^

Alfred is not a hybrid, but he was in a thruple with Martha and Thomas Wayne. He helped them with their preening and helped Bruce (and later all the batkids) as well

I could give all of them specific meanings behind their wings/what animal they are closest to, but not now. Instead! Let's get into Tim's scars.

TW: wing removal, torture, JJ

The Joker was not kind nor careful about the removal. The pain and gore were as much the point as the removal themselves. Tim still wakes up choking on his breath over the feeling of his wings being removed. The physical pain, emotional, and hybrid instinct hell were brutal for the kid.

The scars were gnarly, but his parents paid for treatments to lessen how much they etched into Tim's skin. By the end, they were a bit thinner and paler. They were still very visible but not as painful to look at.

For humor and angst sake, let's say the batfam learns about Tim's missing spleen. He shows off the scar and shrugs.

The others are having a reasonable breakdown over Tim losing his spleen when one of them asks, "Have you lost any more body parts?"

Tim pauses too long.

The Bats freak out some more.

[suguru-getos]

-> happy birthday toru 💗

this is mostly a very personal concept to me but i just love the idea of this. happy birthday to the loml satoru <3 and to @literallythestrongestever my angel my baby 🥹🥹

this drabble contains violence, and abuse, and a lot of healing and comfort after. it takes you through a journey of the reader accidentally switching and shifting in realities from her toxic, abusive and psychotic husband gojo to the one she lives in currently.

the squelching sound of a stabbing wound, how it feels as if you were witnessing it first hand. as if you were in the depths of hell. a man you don’t know, gutted you. the pain— why isn’t it paining— is she already dead? why isn’t the ache registering into the marrow of her bones, the essence of her soul.

no— wait! it’s satoru— he looks different, wait— where is she again? the scenaries change faster than her mind can process. overwhelmed, brain begging for mercy. satoru— yes, her husband— yes— gojo satoru— why are there so many lights— focus, she needs to focus. it feels like death, it feels like drowning in an endless dark trench of nothing. a black hole sucking her life, scraping her marrow with a spoon as she watches from outside.

sounds— spoons tinkling, smell— the smell of kikufuku, the sound of nails against a board. make it stop— satoru?

satoru…

satoru gojo…

yes, yes, he will… he will ground her. he has to, he said he will. he’s going to no matter what. yes, she should-

satoru is sitting next to her, watching her keen eyed as she wakes up from a long, disturbing, forced slumber of mind amputation. humans shouldn’t be forced to the infinite void. he knows that. but she — she’s so fierce & she’s so strong she doesn’t bend to his will. and sometimes it’s better she just shuts up. for good… not with death though, he can’t see her die. he can’t see her live either…

there is a sickening guilt that eats away at his thumping heart, when her eyes meet his, the life beneath them needs searching. buried deep. and his icy blue eyes hate the sight. he hates what she makes him… “i am so sorry, babycakes… i didn’t mean to get mad.”

when people get mad, they yell, they scream, they— depict in ways which are human. how is an honoured one supposed to depict he’s angry, disappointed…. the consequences wouldn’t be so humanly either. she wonders why are there consequences even? isn’t love all about acceptance? isn’t that why she married him…

the next thing she remembers is something that makes her scream in agony, vocal chords strained from the trauma of it all. satoru couldn’t let her get away with trying to escape now. no one could help her. especially when he has ao, aka, kyoshki murasaki at disposal. or maybe he just needs to hold her tighter, watch the audacity crumble right with her bones. fragile & weak, human, delicate….

his eyes, always expressive, show no signs of remorse, or relent. “what? can’t face the consequences after what you do?” why does she dare to run— and challenge— and go against him, the god? gods don’t punish with a slap across the cheek now do they?

she knew, whatever their souls were made of, satoru’s soul didn’t belong to her. “i would be gouging your eye out, an eye for an eye. hmm? don’t you think it’s fitting since you want to hurt me by wanting to die?” the scene shifts, that’s all her life has become. a series of scenes… of shifts… until one day, she did choose death. chose to beat the hollow purple and the infinite void and everything else that comes with it if she were to escape.

watching the blood drain out of her body, with such an eager desperation & passion to lose herself. the sense of what made her alive. the heart. the stupid heart that fell for satoru gojo.

it felt like the sweetest slumber, the one that lulls you into silence when you sip on a little sangria, or when you eat something sweet. or when you live in a world without worries.

only… when she woke up, something had changed. she was in a different room. shit—

“hey- fuck she’s awake!” her heart sinks, the melted honey like voice was much too familar. she glanced over the man, who was grinning ear to ear. the deep, rubble akin chuckle escapes from his parted, beautiful lips. “champion really!”

satoru hates that this girl he doesn’t even know, but saved from a curse — looks so akin to wilted petals…. meanwhile, she doesn’t know where she is, this reality feels different, something intangible about it. to him, she looks around. pursing her lips, eyeing satoru’s fingers for the familiar marriage band, eyeing hers… she doesn’t have it either.

“my name is gojo satoru.” he spoke again, watching her flinch. yes, yes, she knows. she has brandings of satoru in several forms in her body, in her psyche. “i am… y/n.” she mumbles, she doesn’t know if this is just a plot by satoru to pretend that nothing happened.

“are you married?” the next question takes the man off guard. there was no sense of anticipation behind those eyes— just, dread. “jeez i know i’m pretty!” he giggled, headpatting her gently. “nope, single as a pringle. but don’t worry, we could go on a date once you get better pretty girl.” that was smooth, very unlike her satoru… there was no pressure she felt.

maybe she was choosing a familiar hell than an unfamiliar heaven all over again. maybe she’s dying and these are the last few memories in her head. her eyes are heavy again, this time satoru holds her hand. the touch so different, it’s satoru… but it’s different. “sshh~ it’s okay, go to sleep.” his voice balms.

and she’s awake again… definitely not dead… “i don’t know why i’m keeping a watch over you honestly.” he hums, the eyebags visible from strain. he doesn’t look like he has slept in days. “but i want to.” he expresses. and like it was second nature to her, a fool’s nature— the nature of a broken heart of being the more loving one, the words just come out in a silent plea. a desperate attempt of an abused child to apologize hoping there wouldn’t be any consequences. “sorry— m’ just a bother— toru.”

satoru has never heard anyone call him toru. the gentle tone, the submissive venom he wants to suck out of that. “hey— i’m not complaining.” he pouts, looking at her, easing into her frantics by a smile. “besides you’re just so pretty i couldn’t keep these eyes off ya!” he doesn’t know why he’s behaving like this, women… don’t really mean much to him. he has a job, a busy schedule. he doesn’t understand how this woman he found during a mission, enclosed in a curse’s womb, is making everything stagnant.

she blinks at him like a nervous cat this time, until her tummy decides to roar and make hungry noises. the holds onto it, pouting softly, a tender flush spreading across her cheeks like butter on warm toast. “heh, s’ okay little one. what would you want to eat mhm?” satoru asks, noting that her brain didn’t have the capacity to think. maybe being enclosed in a curse does that to you. “i think.” he clicks his fingers, “you’d loveee a nice nutritious sandwich.” he croons, leaning in. again, not missing the flinch.

he is quick to lean back, the flinching hurts. it hurts like his person was harmed. it hurts like he trusted his pet with someone and found them injured later. it hurts like battery acid in his throat. “yeah?” he smiles again, just wanting her to say something.

tears sprawl across her cheeks. “m’ sorry satoru. please don’t be mad.” she says it with such conviction & confidence that satoru is mad. he isn’t. he would never be… she says it like she knows him. “hey— sweetheart, what’s your name?” he knows it’s too much, too soon— but his hands feel like they’re corroding in acid and she’s the only thing that could stop it. he has to cup her cheeks softly, “i’m not mad at you, why’d i be mad at you?”

she doesn’t answer, heart racing, a bead of sweat forming at her forehead. “satoru please-“ she wants him to stop playing with her. lips wobbling at the grief, the fear and the crumbling anxiety rising with every moment. she leans in, like a toddler hugging their caregiver if they’re caught doing something naughty to escape the consequences. clutching at satoru, bawling, again — akin to a toddler. “please toru— didn’t think- much— please it wouldn’t happen again i’m sorry—“

satoru doesn’t understand anything, and also understands something. “do you know me?” he asks, voice low, calm, careful. strong arms caging her in a tight, yet kind hug. delicate…. she’s so… fragile and delicate, like a precious ornament.

“i don’t know what’s happening—“ she exclaims, tears irritating those beautiful eyes. reddening up. “it’s okay—“ satoru coaxes again, gently rubbing her back. “you’re okay, i’m not mad at you. i would never be mad at you.”

“….i promise y/n.” that is such a big promise to keep if he wants to actually see his entire life with her. something he just decides on immediately. no questions, or doubts… or discrepancies… he knows he would keep his promise. “even if you do hurt me, i wouldn’t be mad at you.” he says it with the matching conviction of her beliefs of satoru’s rage. it calms her down. and satoru has never felt happier. he has never felt this exhilarated…. not even when he won over special grades.

one thing about satoru gojo, he always walks the talk. he means it with the heart. even when he said he would keep her happy, even when he hugs her through nights she can’t sleep, even when she repeats endlessly about what happened to her, with her. with an alienic version of him from a different reality, even when she rejects him & he lets her exist while still flooding her life with unbounding love. even when he confessed about wanting to marry her, and wanting to love her to excruciating happiness.

what’s a man ready to move mountains against trauma? an unstoppable force.

“s’ less sweet!” her five year old daughter makes a face. she is the perfect dna copy of her father. gorgeous blue eyes, silky white hair. the same gentleness with the way she treats her mommy. it’s all learnt from daddy after all.

“oh honey is it?” she tastes the cake batter, shuddering. both her daughter and her now husband have such a sweet tooth. “daddy’s birthday needs to have sweeter cakes uh nu!” she chuckles, kissing her forehead and adding a generous amount of sugar. “daddy’s gonna be so happy mama!” she gleams again, at her mother. who was nodding happily, just remembering what life used to be and what life is, now.

she married satoru again, although this time it didn’t come with insanity and violence. satoru was patient, didn’t touch her for two years, just sweet lovesick kisses and nothing else. she knew he yearned but the smile on his face would almost make her think he’s happy with just what he gets…

her phone buzzes with a call, immediately rushing and picking it up. “toru!” the gleam of her voice and the intensity of her is back.

“princess!” he whines over the phone, “i miss you soooo much oh my god—“ he hums, chuckling when she giggles, “you are just out to get candies, not even five minutes are gone—“

“i missed you!” satoru repeats again, “take me seriously i am dying here!”

“happy birthday toru, come home so i could kiss you, then you’d decide if the candy’s sweeter or the cake.”

the moments these words parted from her throat, she feels a familiar gust of wind, satoru is impatient and would teleport sportingly over shorter distances. “mm~ my lady, m’ here for the kiss.”

his hand wraps around her waist, locking her body against his. delicate… his fragile little princess. she gets on her tippy toes, brushing her lips against his with a hum, whispering gratefully. “happy birthday toru.”

“thank you, my present.”

a familiar tiny foot stomping is heard, “where’s my kissies?” their daughter tugs at daddy’s pants. satoru picks her up as if she weighs nothing, (she does not) and peppers her entire face with kisses. the sound of child like giggles fill the room, followed by the soothing aroma of baking satoru’s favorite cake.

satoru.

satoru gojo.

yes, yes, he did… he did ground her. he had to, he said he will & he did it! he’s going to no matter what. yes, she should— she should just live now. she doesn’t need to survive anymore. <3

[the-kr8tor]

Perhaps for fluffy friday/hobie brown x reader. Maybe it could be like a beach night? For example: Hobie and reader are strolling along the beach at night, and at one point they end up getting into a bit of a playful splash-fight with the shallow ends? Anyways- I really like your writing! It always manages to give me inspo whenever I have writers block:))

Thank you for requesting! Hope you like it ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The shore glows nothing like you've ever seen before. Iridescent blues and purple dance along the tides as they lap at the sandy beaches; like tiny glittering stars fell into the sea to join with the seafoam.

You use the light as your guide while Hobie holds onto your hand to make sure you're not taken in by the waves. His other hand holds onto your sandals as you're occupied with splashing your feet into the salty waters; effectively lighting up the shimmering stars with your movements. Leaving specks of light instead of footsteps in the sand.

“Do you think the small algae can make you sick?” He suddenly asks above the sound of waves and the endless night.

“What?” You pause mid-step, squeezing his hand once. “What do you mean?”

You can see his faint outline, a halo around him appearing thanks to the full moon above. “Like black mold.”

You scrunch your brows. “I don't think they're the same though.” Continuing to walk, he lets go of your hand to snake his arm around your waist. Chin placed on your shoulder, lips blowing air into your ear as you lean closer. You giggle, craning your head to meet with his stare. “Hi to you too, Hobie.”

Blue lights dance on his pensive face, “Algae are alive, and they're the cause of the bioluminescence.” He once thought that the long walks on the beach were a bunch of bollocks, but now that he's strolling along with you under the moonlight— he thinks that he should add it to his introduction whenever he has to introduce himself. “D’you think they'll get into your skin?”

You still haven't seen through his act.

“Someone read the pamphlet.” You tease, wiping away stray sand from his cheeks left when you buried him in the sand a few hours ago. He's absolutely enamored by you in this light. “Like, they'd make my feet glow or something?”

Hobie huffs, leaning away and taking your nose in his fingers to squeeze playfully. Your laughter echoes around the near empty beach. “‘m just lookin' after you. What if the algae gets in between your nails and enters your system, huh? What then?” He's incredibly happy in paradise with you. A bit sunburnt from how much he surfed and forgot to reapply sunscreen, but happy nonetheless.

“Wha’!” Your voice is altered by his fingers around your nose. Eyes wide, you still don't see what he's doing. Your face coaxes him to continue with his scheme.

“You'll be taken over by algae, and then turned into one of its mindless hosts to add to their growing mind hive.” Every word he says, your fear is stomped away, leaving only a (feigned) flat expression. “Imagine that, you'll be my algae girlfriend—”

You yank his finger away, biting it but not enough to actually hurt him. Hobie laughs, taking back his hand to embrace you while the waves drench both of your ankles. He laughs into your neck, you feel his laughter reverberate in his chest. Hugging him tighter, you trace his spine with your knuckles, feeling him relax even more.

“‘Algae girlfriend’, fuck off.” You say with a giggle. Hobie slowly brings you further into the shallow part of the beach. The water has now reached just above your knees as he leaves quick kisses on your face with a smile. “You're knee deep in the algae now too.”

Hobie feigns a dramatic gasp, earning another hearty laugh from you. “Good thing I know how to cure it, love.”

You tilt your head, curious about what ridiculousness he's about to come up with. Smiling, you pat his chest lovingly. “What is it?”

“Salt water.”

“Oh, is it really?” You sarcastically say. Pretending to let the information convince you. Hobie tamps down a laugh from your supposed thinking face. “The cure is their habitat too? How curious.”

He chuckles, moving away, slyly crouching down to scoop up water in his palms; drenching his linen pants but he already forgot about the cold seeping through his clothes the second you copy his movements.

You splash water at his face, quicker than him, while Hobie gets a mouthful of saltwater. He splutters, “Is that how it is then?” His eyes shine like the bioluminescence in the water, glinting with mischief. “‘m cured, but you're not, love.”

Shrieking and laughing while you run away from him, Hobie stalks you with his large strides, catching up to you effortlessly.

“Get back ‘ere! The algae is already in your brain!” He chases after you with a grin, while you continue to run while your guffaws echo around the beach; prompting other people to stare at you two with raised brows.

[kk43mi]

good girl.┊ scaramouche

PAIRING ┊ perv!scaramouche x innocent f!reader GENRE ┊ pure smut. WC ┊ 1.8k+ WARNINGS ┊ he’s a perv , panty stealing , corruption , dub-con(?) , praise(if you squint) , not proof-read, cussing , scara just being gross!!! , lowercase intended!! SYNOPSIS ┊ coming back from your college classes and hearing your roommate making little grunts and moans, calling out your name, thinking he was in pain—but turns out, it was more than that. A/N ┊ written by kam , hope you guys enjoy ! (melody helped with the process !) first fic.

"anything that needs to be clarified?" your professor asked as he finished writing the formula on the board, turning around to face the class in front of him as he rest his arms on the lectern. a still silence preforms in the room, as the only sounds heard can be from other students taking notes, pencil moving in motion on the wooden table. finishing up your notes, your professor had now dismissed the class, signifying that the lecture was now finally over. wanting to seek solace in your comfy dorm and avail yourself of well-deserved respite after a long day.

a groan falls from your mouth as you now exited the lecture hall, stretching out your arms while walking towards the direction of your humble abode, where you share the room with a long-known acquaintance, scaramouche. scara—for short is what you liked to call him. "ah, im hungry...ill just eat some instant ramen back at the dorms." you exclaimed. soon enough, you were now in front of your dorm, grabbing the keys from your pocket to unlock the wooden door that was in your way.

twisting and turning the knob, you entered your abode, then taking off and carelessly throwing your shoes with the other pairs of shoes that were lined up nice and neatly, too drained out from the lecture to really care about any mess you make right now. walking and passing by the other rooms, you had to pass your roomies to get to yours. which you had no problem at all doing, until you heard faint groans and grunts coming from the other side of the door. "n-ngh...uh...fuck...y/n.." falls out of scaras lips. and there you hear a thud coming from the room.

you knocked on his door "ah-? scara, are you okay? i heard a loud thud! did something happened? are you in pain?" you asked in concern, pressing an ear against the blue tinted door to make out what he would say next. "y-yeah im fine. just go away argh..." he sounded annoyed, did you perhaps bother him? you didnt mean to, all you wanted to do was figure out what had happened. you stopped your thoughts as he hear his footsteps approaching the door, seeing his shadow beneath the creak of the door, slowly and subtly retreating from the door, your gaze meets scaras purple orbs.

his irritated look gives it away and you immediately feel bad. "im sorry if i bothered you.." you muttered out quietly as he let out a scoff, walking towards the bathroom. your eyes follow his before sighing. turning to walk to your own bedroom, before the corner of your eyes spots something out of the ordinary from his room. his room was usually just filled with neutral colors like white, grey, and black, but you spotted a pink cloth on his black bedsheet. out of curiosity, you enter the room, going closer to the object before realizing what it was.

"what the..? my underwear?" you looked in confusion, why would your panties be in scaras room? observing the undergarments a bit more, you spot little wet patches on them. and a weird smell emitting from it...maybe...this could explain the reason why the quantity of your panties had reduced. so scara has been the one stealing them?! you had lost your trance of thoughts after hearing a door slam shut behind you, making you turn around, "well, well look who we have here, y/n. figured it out hm?" he said, followed by with a menacing laugh, it sent shiver done your spines, waiting for your response as he leaned against the door with his arms crossed, looking down at you with a shit eating grin.

"you perv! youve been stealing my underwear!" you gritted your teeth, absolutely disgusted with your roommate. "and? what of it. not my fault youre wearing those kinds of underwear. i really cant control it yknow?" he grinned at you as he retracted his arms and took a couple steps towards you. the sudden instinct made you grab your garments, and throw it up at his face, but the quick motherfucker he was, he caught it. "well that wasnt really nice now was it?" he said before bringing the used panties to his nose, inhaling the scent of the soft pink undies, the smell of his pre-cum and your heat mixed in together brought him to heaven. his face turning red, eyes having hearts in them now, and breathing uncontrollable.

the sight of him smelling your panties had you tensed, as your eyes lowered to see such a noticeable bulge forming down. saliva forming in your mouth, to which you had swallowed. "do you see what you do to me..? for you to find out like this is such a shame, but whatever, its nice you know i crave for you now. every single part of your body. so please, allow me to indulge in this exquisite pleasure that awaits me." he bit his lips in excitement, his hand, motioning to touch his bulge, palming and shifting it around to reduce the pain, his other hand, still holding onto the precious sacred panties up to his nose to whiff at to get off to.

"uh..erm.." your face gave a look of confusion and hesitation. sure scara was a handsome boy, you never thought he viewed you that way, but you always had the thought of what it was like to be in the act of intimacy. but still, you werent too sure about this. "oh c'mon, you didnt even let me finish, im pent up. i just need one release." he grinned as he stepped closer to you, kneeling down to your height to harshly cup your cheeks with one hand, planting his lips on yours, giving a sloppy kiss. you pressed a hand on his chest, trying to pry him away, as his other free hand grabbed your wrist to stop your resistance. your eyes were shut closed, but you can feel a smile forming out of him. soon, you gasped and your mouth was left agape, the perfect opportunity for scara to insert in his tongue, exploring your inside, tasting and savoring every nook and cranny.

little moans falling out of your mouth, this...it was all new to you, never knowing or feeling the touch of another man. let alone, this kind. your resistance has stopped, knowing your strength wasnt compared to his. he may seem small, but he sure was the strong one. scara pulled back, a string of saliva connected from his mouth to yours, both of the individual breathing heavily, trying to catch up each others breath. a sickening smile appeared on his face again. "on your knees, c'mon." he commanded. as he sat on his bed. eyeing down on you. you just stood there in silence, just trying to comprehend everything that was happening right now. first the stolen undies, he likes you, then kissed you. just what was going on.

scara let out an annoyed scoff as he ran out of patience, pulling your arm to put you down on your knees, your face landing onto his pelvis, face dangerously close to his crotch. "oh? excited too? well then ill let you indulge in what you want of course~" his voice sounded high, as he unzipped his pants, his length raised up, the tip hitting his cloth stomach. he was girthy, and veiny in the right places, his tip, a pretty pink mushroom. its like it was perfect. you stared at his cock, intimidated already. your trail of thoughts were lost as you soon felt scaras hand grab your wrist, forcing your hands to touch the base of his cock. out of shock, you tried removing your hand, but he kept it in place. "dont be shy, i know you want this too. now move." you eyed up at him, a gulp forming on your throat, as you felt gross doing this. slowly moving your hands up and down, feeling his veins and stiff cock.

"f-fuck...this feels way better than that damn panties of yours...i always imagined it as your hand stroking my cock. now i finally get the feel of it. youre so good." he threw his head back due to the pleasure, moaning at the way your hands gripped his cock so tightly. "ugh..." you let out a disgusted sigh, it felt so slimy, and the stench was already hurting your head. "ah-shit im out of patience, open your mouth." a hand was placed on your head as his other supported his balance to sit up. "what..? why.." you meekly respond back. "hurry up and just do as a i say." he gripped a handful of your hair locks and it made you wince. as you obliged and open your mouth, without warning, his cock is shoved into the small mouth of yours. you gagged, both of your hands placed on his thighs for leverage and support.

"shit, your mouth is even better..." he fucked your face thru it all, tears that were threatening to spill down to your cheeks from the pain you were trying to endure. soft little cries and whimpers come from your mouth, hoping it would signal him into slowing down a bit. "tis hwurt..plese...stuop.." you were slobbering on your words...you couldnt say anything, not when he was thrusting his hips into your mouth so harshly as he was pulling your hair along with it. "youre such a good girl...taking me so well." it was like your pleas fell on deaf ears, as he just kept thrusting. "breathe thru your nose baby." as if it would make anything better. it hurts. you were gagging like crazy. saliva coated everywhere on your mouth, even dripping down onto the floor, creating a wet mess.

his thrusts were harsh and it made your mouth sore, you dont know how long you could keep this up honestly. "f-fuck gonna cum, you gonna take it all like a good girl alrigh'?" his pace fastened, and it left your eyes crying a river now. tears trickling down to your cheek and to your chin, mixing in with the pool of saliva down on the floor. "ah-! fuck, fuck, fuck..!" with one last harsh thrust, the tip of his cock touching the deep parts of your throat as his cum gushed out, forcing you to take it all, as some of it spilled out. he rides out his high by stilling himself in your mouth, taking in your warmth, before finally pulling out. which had you coughing out, mouth all sore as you laid on the wooden floor. trying to catch up with your breath. little bits of scaras cum still lingered on the corners of your mouth. a laugh falls from his mouth as he enjoyed the sight he was viewing.

"this is just the beginning. im not done yet. now be a good little girl and get on the bed."

"but you said you just needed one release...?"

"I said im not done yet."

requests open!

[gay-wh0re-slut]

HEYYA

can you please write a rhea x fem!reader where they are both at a friends for their birthday, and everyone ends up playing seven minutes in heaven and rhea & reader end up having to play together and end up just having a good convo (maybe some makeout time too😏) and later that night sneak away and secretly hook up (smut pleaseee😍)

shut upppppp this is so goodddddd im giggling and kicking my feet right now omgggg

after writing: this turned out to be a bit long but i couldn’t stop writing. i got a lil flustered writing this one so i hope you like it too eeeee

Present

rhea ripley x fem!reader

content: meeting a hot buff goth wrestler at a friends party but of course you get picked to join her for 7 minutes in heaven. will it get spicy? will there be kissing? who knows?!

You’ve know Zelina since high school and you’ve always been kinda close. Not close enough to where the two of you would hang out everyday but enough to where you could get lunch and it not be awkward. One day at a lunch, she invited you to her birthday party and told you that there was someone that she wanted you to meet.

“I’m not sure if she’s your type but I think you two would get along at least,” she said.

“I don’t even know my type anymore, seems like everyone is either taken or just plain weird,” you fired back.

She left it at that but you both laughed at your statement. You had been struggling to find someone to find you interesting enough to at least to keep a conversation going past two days. Who knows, she might be a great matchmaker.

The day came and her theme was cartoons, of course. So you decided to lazily dress up as Daphne from Scooby Doo. You bought her a gift card to a local craft store as her gift because she’s always making something for a cosplay.

“Hi!! Thank you for coming!” Zelina embraced you carefully so that she wouldn’t mess up her Sailor Moon cosplay too much.

“Of course! Happy birthday!” You followed her in to the kitchen to place the gift by the others. “Do you need help with anything?”

“As of right now, I think I’m good, thank you though!” she smiled as she carried a platter of snacks to the living room.

“Zelina!” you heard an australian accent, “Where are napkins?”

“I’ll get them, one sec,” she said but was quickly cut off.

“Please it’s your day and you’ve already done so much, let me get them. Where are they?” You heard shuffling from the other room.

“You’re too sweet. They’re in the cabinet, under the island in the kitchen.”

“Be right back,” the accent was deep but you could tell that she had lived in the states for a while. She sounded familiar but you couldn’t make it out.

As you were pouring a drink for yourself at the Punch Bar that had cutouts and stickers of WWE things, you heard heels clicking on the tile floor. So you turned to see who it was. A dark figure was crouched at the island. She was wearing tall black platform heels, fishnets, and from behind all you could see was a dark purple cape draped over broad shoulders.

She quickly grabbed the napkins and stood up facing you, “oh, sorry,” her light blue eyes stared into you as purple eyeshadow complimented them perfectly. The hood on her head was placed to frame her face just right, “just needed napkins.” She gave you a smile as she raised her shoulder and scrunched her nose before clicking away again back into the living room.

You were frozen. She was so enchanting. You couldn’t even process what she was supposed to be. You stood silently barely holding onto the cup in your hand, your mouth ran dry, and your heart was beating faster.

“Y/N! You good in there?!” you heard Zelina yell.

“Y-yeah,” you gathered yourself as quickly as possible and walked towards her voice, “couldn’t decide what I wanted.”

“All good! This is Rhea, the girl I was telling you about,” she gestured to the same dark figure that was in the kitchen moments ago.

“Aw you talk about me?” her accent flew to your ears gracefully.

“Don’t let it get to your head Mami,” Zelina laughed before turning back to you, “but you know everyone else right?”

“Hi, yes I do,” your voice was higher than usual because you were nervous, which you quickly fixed, “nice to meet you,” you finally glanced down at the black body suit and the belt she was wearing, “Oh you’re Raven from Teen Titans!”

“I am!” Rhea flicked the cape behind her dramatically. “I’ve only seen a few episodes but I know Z really likes it.”

“Yeah it’s good!” you couldn’t think of anything to say you were so taken aback by her beauty.

“I’ve heard! Nice to finally meet you,” she giggled before turning back to the party.

The party went on as usual. Talking, drinking, yelling, dancing. Everyone was just tipsy enough to think that playing Seven Minutes in Heaven was a good idea.

“Alright let’s spin this bottle to see who goes,” Zelina slurred her words a bit, it was quite funny to be honest.

So she spins and of course it lands on you, why wouldn’t it.

“Oooooh!!” everyone chimed in.

She spun the bottle again and of course it lands on Rhea, why wouldn’t it.

“Okay you two! I don’t have a closet in here so the bathroom will have to do,” the birthday girl pointed to the door just outside the living room, “Go on! You only have seven minutesssss!”

You let out a big sigh before getting up to walk towards the bathroom. Rhea follows and clicks behind you. Your heart was already beating so fast you felt like it was going to pop out of your chest.

Rhea locked the door behind her, “Well…”

“Well,” you choked.

The two of you leaned on opposite walls. Her muscular arms were crossed as yours were behind you. It was silent for a good minute or so before the australian broke it.

“How do you know Z?”

“Since highschool, but we’ve only recently gotten close. What about you?”

“We work together.”

“Oh you wrestle too?”

“Yeah, on Mondays though, she’s on Fridays,” she chuckled.

“Oh, nice,” you sounded interested but it was so hard to talk to such a pretty person.

“It might be the alcohol talking but I think you’re really pretty,” the wrestler blurted out.

“W-what?” you almost choked, “I-I mean, uh thank you.”

“You’re like…so hot,” she covered her mouth as if she didn’t know she was going to say that either.

“Yeah I think it’s the alcohol,” you laughed. “But for what it’s worth, I think you’re really pretty too.” Where the sudden confidence came from you didn’t know but, it was now or never to shoot your shot.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you’re like…so hot,” you mocked.

“Thank you,” her face got a little red so she readjusted her stance, “We only have like four minutes left.”

“Yeah,” you wanted to make a move so badly but you didn’t want to push it.

“Do you wanna kiss?” she said in the most confident tone ever.

“Sorry?” your face also turned red at the thought of her close to you.

“Well we gotta do something if we both think the other is hot! But if you don’t want-”

“Yes.”

“Oh, well,” she took a deep breath and took the one step it took to get to you, “you sure?”

Your breathing was labored, your heart was pounding, you were getting hot, “yeah.”

A devilish smile grew on her face which sent you overboard. She gently held your face and kissed you softly. She held it for longer than you thought she would. When she let go, you knew you needed more. So you grabbed the collar of the cape and pulled her in again. This time your lips danced together like they were meant to be. Her hands roamed your body as you held her close. You loved the feeling of her on you, it’s been so long since someone has done anything remotely close.

The way her loud breathing made you feel so weak in the knees, you needed to hear more of it. You pushed her back against her wall with a thud and small moan came from her.

“Didn’t take you to be the dominant type,” she said out of breath.

“I can do both,” you smiled.

“Good to know,” her voice was deep.

That alone made you go crazy. You knew her lipstick was smearing onto you from how her lips looked but you didn’t care. It had been so long since someone simply wanted you that you couldn’t control yourself. Your hands were on her waist holding her back as hers were in your hair pulling you toward her as your lips danced once more. When you remembered that she was wearing a one piece you were pissed, you had it all planned out to sneak your hand where you wanted to most. Instead you opted to just sneak it above the fabric, very thin fabric at that.

A small gasp left her lips as her icy blue eyes rolled back before she fluttered them closed. You started to gently caress her center, her labored breathing-

“TIMES UP!” Zelina yelled as she knocked on the door loudly before trying to open the door.

“Fuck,” Rhea said hitting her head on the wall.

“Glad you locked it,” you joked kissing her once more before peeling yourself off of her.

She stayed on her wall looking defeated while you wiped off her lipstick from you before unlocking the door.

“He- ooooooh, helloooo,” Zelina giggled while playfully biting her finger.

“Not a word,” the wrestler said behind you as she placed her hands on your shoulders before moving past the both of you.

“Whatever you say Mami,” she giggled again before heading back to the living room.

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly thinking that this was the craziest thing that’s happened to you maybe ever.

The party goes on, people get chosen by the Goodness of God, AKA the wine bottle that they were spinning.

Rhea had silently handed her phone to you with the contacts app open, ready for you to add your number in. Your heart pounded with happiness as you shakily typed it in. She already had a heart with flames emoji by your name.

About an hour went by and you received a text from an unknown number. When you looked around the room, you saw Raven staring back at you with a sly smile, licking her teeth. You shivered at her stare so you read the text assuming it was from her.

Meet me at my truck in 10 min.

You watched her get up and silently walk out the door. The others were too drunk to notice her slip out.

So you waited. Somehow patiently, but you got more nervous as time went on, it felt like hours that you were waiting but you had one eye on the clock on the side table the entire time.

Ten minutes finally passed but you waited an extra minute to not seem so desperate. You stood, “I’ll be right back,” you whispered to the birthday girl. She gave you a drunken smile with a nod.

Once you walked out the door, you realized that there were a lot of trucks and you weren’t too sure about which one was hers. You walked around a bit looking for any sign.

“Took ya long enough,” you heard her accent.

Your heart jumped a little, “how was I supposed to know which was yours,” you gestured to the multiple trucks surrounding you.

She was leaned against her ride, arms crossed and one foot over the other. She stared for a few seconds then let out a sigh, “get in.”

“You’re not gonna murder me are you?”

“We’ll see,” She said. You could feel her devilish smile from there.

As you got closer to her, she opened the door to the back seat for you. You gave her a look of appreciation before climbing in. To your surprise, she followed you in and closed the door behind her.

After a slight awkward silence of her adjusting herself, you broke the ice, “What did yo-”

“Sit,” she patted her thighs.

You hesitated, blinking at her, silently asking if she was serious. She raised her eyebrows at you to answer your question. It took a good minute for you to get comfortable but you obeyed. Her threat from earlier seemed a little too real so you didn’t want to risk it.

Her hands immediately clung onto the sides of your torso, slowly running them down to your hips and down your thighs. A shiver ran through you instantly.

“We don’t have long until they notice we’re both gone,” she whispered before removing a hand from your thigh and pulling at the back of your neck. Her soft lips traced your jaw line down your neck as far as she could reach without getting uncomfortable before going back up.

A small moan fell out of you. You were bracing yourself on the headrest with one hand while the other was tangled in her black hair. “I think we will be alright for a while,” you said weakly.

“This shouldn’t take long,” she scoffed.

You backed away from her, looking into her dimly lit eyes, offended, “so you think I’m easy?”

“No, I’m just good at what I do,” she fired back proudly.

With how she was making you feel and you’ve barely done anything, obviously she was right but you couldn’t let her know that, at least not yet. “Riiight,” you rolled your eyes.

A hand quickly found your neck, gripping it tightly, “don’t underestimate me, princess.” Her breath was heavy on your lips as she glared at them.

You didn’t know you liked that until this moment. It caught you off guard but you liked it so bad. “I’m s-sorry,” you choked out. You couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Her hand alleviated the pressure but moved to the side of your neck pulling your head with it. She took the opportunity to bite at your ear, “quick leaner.”

Without you realizing it, her other hand had slipped under your skirt. As she continued to nip and kiss at your neck, the tattooed hand began to caress where you needed her most.

“Mmm,” she breathed, “that’s what I thought,” as she felt you soaking through the booty shorts you wore underneath.

All you could respond with was a moan louder than before. Arching your back at her touch, she began to draw small circles on your center.

“Mmmfuck,” you whined.

She chuckled deeply sending another shiver through you and straight to your core. Going back to kissing your lips, her free hand was now bracing your lower back wanting to sneak to your ass. Both of your hands were cupping her jaw, pulling her in as close as possible. Your hips began to grind on her hand ever so slightly as she matched your rhythm perfectly.

Minutes went by but you couldn’t get enough of her, you needed more. So you grabbed her hand and guided it under the waistband of your shorts hoping she would get the hint.

“A lil desperate, are we?” she smiled into the next kiss.

“Yes,” you kissed her, “fuck,” you kissed again, “please,” you kissed her once more.

“I don’t know, I think I like hearing you beg,” her devilish smile grew back as she ran her tongue over her teeth. The tongue piercing glinted in the street light. Your eyes grew wide at the sight, somehow you didn’t notice it before.

“Are you really gonna make me?”

“If you want me to fuck you,” she said so confidently.

Your mouth fell open. Fuck, here we go. “Fine. Please fuck me,” you said in the blandest tone.

“Oh c’mon, at least act like you want it,” and with that her hand snuck under the shorts and found your wet center, toying with your clit.

You gasped at the new sensation as you threw your head back.

“Now, do you want to try again?” she growled.

“Mhmm,” you bit your lip. The hand started to slowly work its magic, “please,” you whined this time.

“Aw, you can do better,” she added more pressure, “What do you want, princess?”

You rested your forehead on hers, barely holding yourself up from the amount of oxygen you were losing by holding your breath to not let as many moans escape but you couldn’t hold back anymore. You needed her…immediately. “God, please fuck me. I need you so bad, please.”

“I usually go by Mami but God works too,” she chuckled, “but good enough.” So she gently plunged two fingers inside of you.

“FUCK,” you cried out throwing your head back again before letting it drop back forward onto her shoulder.

She slowly pumped in and out of you as best she could. Your hips automatically found their rhythm. Breathless moans were spilling out of you as the familiar knot in your stomach was quickly forming. Her free hand was now on your ass helping you ride her fingers.

You gained some strength to lift your head up to start kissing her again. Moaning into her mouth, your hand tangled themselves in her hair once more. A few more seconds and the knot was almost undone, “Shit, I’m go-”

“Prove it,” she cut you off knowing exactly what you were going to say.

Repeated whines filled the truck as you were sweating and breathless, your arms were weak and your legs were weaker. Finally, the knot was free and you came, hard, “OH GOD,” your eyes rolled back as your back arched, your hands anchoring you to her neck. “FUCK!” as you slammed your head back onto her shoulder. Waves of pleasure shot through your body as you continued to ride it out.

She noticed that your legs began to shake so she slowly pulled out, letting you catch your breath. You heard a noise next to your ear so you lifted your head to find her sucking her fingers clean.

“Holy shit,” you breathed.

“Told you I was good,” she cooed.

“Shut up.”

[medlarmeadows]

you’ve captured me (and my heart)

hero!Charlie Slimecicle x villain!reader

Synopsis: You’d think capturing and interrogating a hero would be easier what with the number of years you’ve been a villain. Turns out it’s a whole lot more complicated when the hero you captured fancies you a little.

Warning(s): slightly suggestive, swearing, a bit of sexual tension, violence (no blood, just some tripping and a headbutt).

Word count: 1.4k words

A/N: No part of me wants to admit that this emerged from the Duolingo stream. I wrote this in an hour. I am ashamed and amazed at the same time.

masterlist || requests are open!

Slime had been yapping non-stop since you’d kidnapped him midway during his nightly patrol. Even after placing a bag over his head; even after shoving him into your getaway car; even after dragging him into an abandoned warehouse; even after forcing him onto a chair and tying his arms behind his back – he refused to stop talking.

You should’ve just knocked the idiot out while you had the chance to.

Now, you had no more chance to render him unconscious because you were meant to interrogate the yapper.

“ – dude, the ropes are kinda chafing my wrists, could you loosen them a little?”

Rubbing the space between your eyebrows, you sigh wearily before yanking the bag off his head.

He looked like the typical hero in your city: a green mask obscured the top half of his face, and he was clad in a flexible, but sturdy suit of different green hues. He really committed to the slime theme.

You guess you were no different. You could see his eyes scanning your dark purple suit, which was accompanied by a cloth that obscured the lower half of your face from your nose down. What can you say? You loved your moniker Foxglove.

A light sparks in Slime’s eyes when he registers who you are.

“Ah shit, Foxglove,” he starts somewhat nervously, one foot tapping a rhythm on the floor. “We meet again, huh?”

You roll your eyes at him, folding your arms in front of your chest.

“This isn’t a meeting, Slime. It’s an interrogation.”

“And a kidnapping, I noticed,” he quips, arms twitching in what you assumed was discomfort. “I know kidnapping kind of runs in villainy, but I didn’t think that was your brand.”

“I don’t really give a shit about branding,” you shoot back, cocking your head to the side. “That’s your kind of thing.”

“Yeah, hah,” he replies, a little breathy. “Heroes and branding, that’s how we appeal and gain people’s trust, I guess. Anyways, nice place you’ve got here. A little bare and dusty. You come here often?”

You squint at him. He was rambling.

The two of you often exchanged banter and insults during your fights, and there was usually an air of confidence, almost playfulness around Slime. You don’t recall a time he truly sounded nervous or borderline panicky.

You suppose you’ve never seen him under duress like that before.

Good. It means you had the upper hand.

“ – mean, it’s not a bad place, just not too homey. I could help you spruce things up! It would require the use of my hands though, so maybe we could negotiate that – ”

Snorting at his predicament (that you put him in), you interrupt his rambling by snatching one of your batons and pointing it at him threateningly.

“Zip. I’m going to ask you some questions, and you’re going to answer them.”

Slime’s rambling cuts short with his mouth still agape. His eyes dart between your face and the baton warily.

“What are you going to do if I refuse?” he asks, eyes wide, body fidgety.

The corner of your lip twitches up in a smirk, and you draw closer to rest the tip of your baton under his chin, forcing him to tilt his head up to look at you.

“If you refuse,” you begin slowly, trailing your eyes over his obscured features, “you’re going to be a lot more black-and-blue when I return you to your fellow heroes.”

He meets your eyes with a wide-eyed gaze, treating you to front row seats of brown speckled blue eyes. You’re surprised that you never noticed that before, though you suppose you’ve never been this close to Slime before no matter how much you tussled with him.

It seems as though you’d finally intimidated him into submission, as his breathing slows and shoulders set almost cooperatively. So, it catches you off guard when his lips quirk up and he lets out a little breath through his nose.

“Freaky, I like it.”

Frowning, you’re about to throw a remark when a hand suddenly shoots up to grab onto your wrist. A hand that should’ve been bound behind his back.

“What – ”

You don’t get any more time to react as Slime’s other hand reaches forward to shove you backwards. At the same time, his leg kicks out to knock your feet from under you.

In a second, you’re slammed with your back to the hard warehouse floor, the complete upset of your balance sending you to the ground. You hear your baton go skittering across the floor as Slime lands on top with you, hips straddling your thighs to keep you in place.

One hand is still around your wrist, while the other presses onto your collarbone.

Normally, your body would’ve kicked into overdrive by instinct and started pushing him off you, but your brain was still reeling from his comment and his body on yours and how close his face is.

“At least take me to dinner first,” Slime continues, a smirk rising on his lips.

“What the fuck,” you sputter.

Finally regaining one brain cell, your free hand comes up to jab at his throat. Unfortunately, he anticipates your attack, and his hand on your collarbone quickly slides to your wrist, capturing it and holding it next to your head, mirroring your other wrist.

It’s your turn to stare at him wide-eyed, wiggling in his grip in attempts of some futile escape plan. With both his arms caging you now, you’re stuck under his weight with no way out. The cogs in your brain were running on overdrive.

It didn’t help that you could feel every puff of hot breath against your throat when he exhaled.

You wish you could say you had some experience breaking out of this position, but truth be told, you were bailed out by another villain anytime Slime managed to catch you like this.

As though he could read your thoughts, Slime raises an eyebrow almost mockingly at you.

“What’s wrong? No friend to help you out of this one, huh?”

You glare at him before attempting to buck your hips to upset his weight, but the hero had placed himself over your thighs instead of your hips, smartly evading your escape attempt.

“Now, now,” he chides, “I don’t think we’re at that base yet. Although, it could be negotiated.”

“The only negotiation we are going to have is one that gets you off me, you bastard,” you shoot back.

Slime chuckles, much to your chagrin. But he quickly calms and turns serious.

“Listen, I’m not sure what you were going to try and get out of me, but you’ve already lost the upper hand here. So, why not we just call it a day, eh?”

You keep glaring at him.

“Will you get off me then?”

“Depends. Will you try to attack me?”

“Yes.”

“What if I get off you and take you to dinner some time?”

“Yes – what?”

You’re so caught off guard that your body slackens under him. Staring up at him, you notice something shining in his eyes.

Something like hope.

“I mean it,” he repeats. “Will you let me take you to dinner some time?”

As the two of you gaze into each other’s eyes, his grip on you relaxes slightly. Taking the opportunity, you headbutt him and slip your hands from his grip, pushing him to the side and getting up on your feet. You don’t look back at him before you book it out of the warehouse, swiftly pulling yourself up into a ledge on the side of the warehouse he wouldn’t be able to notice you on when he came out.

Seconds later, Slime is sprinting out of the warehouse, scanning the immediate area for you. He chuckles a little before cupping his hands around his mouth and yelling:

“You never said no!”

You roll your eyes, holding in a scoff as you watch him leave, figuring his way back to the city centre.

You’re not sure why you remain there, on the side of the warehouse. But you sit there and recall the events that had just happened. How he managed to outsmart you and undo his binds; how he quickly overpowered you before you could even start interrogating him.

How right it felt for the weight of his body to be over yours.

Feeling warmth creep up your neck, you shake the thoughts out of your head. There was no way you were falling for a hero, right?