#might wear the matching tail if i find it

[ratboyhole]

trying on my fit for the drag ball we're attending later this month :3

[peachylynnie]

the cat butler

word count: 2.4k

synopsis: in which sylus is eager to please you, as always. but this time, as a cat butler.

contains: sylus x mc!reader (they're not dating, but sylus is down bad), references to the cat butler trailer, sylus with cat ears and a tail, suggestive themes, mentions of alcohol, cussing, making out, and stalking(?).

a/n: i wrote this after reading somewhere that the upcoming memory might be our first-ever kiss with sylus. so consider this a prediction of some sort (probably not gonna happen). also, sylus' cat ears suit him so well. do not plagiarize or copy my work. sylus would not endorse plagiarism. enjoy!

“my lady,” a rich yet sultry voice calls. you shift uncomfortably in your sleep, wanting to rest a bit more.  

“my lady,” the voice repeats firmly. still, you dismiss it by grumbling and refusing to open your eyes. 

“my lady.” huh, that's weird. why does that voice sound like…

“my lady.” sylus?!  you burst open your eyes upon recognizing who was calling you. though, not without a startled "oh, god" because sylus was mere inches from your face.  

immediately, you sit up, rubbing your eyes and trying to process what was happening. where were you? how long were you out for? and most importantly, why was sylus calling you "my lady?" not that you had any problem with it, but still. your eyes widen as you find yourself on a velvet sofa in a sleek lounge of some sort. extending your arms in front of you, you stare dumbfoundedly at the tight leather gloves enveloping your hands. confusedly, you look down as you pat your body. a silky red, a-line dress hugged your figure, and you couldn’t help but admire the strings of shimmering pearls that hung around your waist and neck.  

hoping for answers on how you got here and why you were dressed so nicely, you turn to look at sylus, who was kneeling on the ground next to the sofa to meet you at your eye level. you can’t stop the gasp that leaves your mouth. are those cat ears?!

nevermind the fact that sylus was dressed in a neat, scarlet tuxedo that matched the shade of your dress. nevermind the fact that he looked good in a tie—so good to the point you wanted to tug on it. nevermind the fact that he was wearing a clean pair of white gloves that outlined his fingers so nicely. what was with the cat ears?! and a tail, too?! 

"uhm" you start. "what’s with the…?" you point at his head, hoping that he would understand. you couldn’t care less about formulating proper sentences. right now, you wanted answers. where were you? why were you dressed so nicely? why the fuck is sylus wearing cat ears and a tail? and why did the caracal set suit him so well? 

sylus' crimson eyes move up cutely as if he was trying to see the ears for himself. then, they fall back down to you, but not without a chuckle. "they're cat ears, my lady," he answers teasingly. "isn't it obvious?" with that, the ears twitch excitedly. yup, you saw that right. they actually twitched. 

"holy shit," you mutter as you reach to stroke the ears. "can i?" 

sylus smirks as he gives you a single nod, closing his eyes to convey that you are more than welcome to touch him.  

the ears felt incredibly real. the fur was super soft, and you could feel the skin vibrating beneath your fingers. your eyes widen as you pinch the ears gently. they didn't just feel real. they are real. the sheer warmth you felt from touching the exposed skin in the ears told you so. fascinated, you move your fingers to the back of one of the ears to scratch at the fur. sylus purrs and leans into your scratches. you can’t help but giggle at the sight. "who's the kitten now, sylus?" you jest, lifting your free hand to scratch his other ear, causing the man to part his mouth and rest his head against your knee. fuck, your touches felt so good.  

wanting to get actual answers from him, you stop scratching and let your hands rest on your lap. before you can even speak, sylus hisses at the loss of your touch, his brows knitting and a scowl growing on his lips. he grabs both your hands and places them back on his ears. understanding his message, you continue your ministrations, trying to remember certain spots that cats tend to like. 

"as much as these ears suit you," you coo. "this is really weird. want to tell me what's going on, sylus?" you don't remember him contacting you for a new mission where cat props and formal wear would be involved. heck, you don't remember how you even got here. what exactly was going on?  

sylus sighs and raises his head back up before answering, "you purchased me, my lady." his amused gaze meets your bewildered one. “we signed a contract where i would be your cat butler as of today. perhaps you forgot because as soon as you signed the contract, you drank excessively from the bar over there," he juts his head towards the bar behind you. "then, you passed out." 

what in the actual fuck? did he say purchase? what contract? you don’t remember signing any contracts. and since when did you ever drink? no, this can’t be right. you don't even recall coming to this fancy place. let alone dressing up so nicely.  

"you're lying," you nervously say. "there's no one working at the bar, and i don't see any glasses either." for a moment, a look of pride flashes on sylus' face. you always were so observant. one of the many things he loved about you. if only you were more observant of his affection for you instead of being so oblivious all the time. "besides, what's with our outfits? i don't remember putting this on. let alone coming here..." 

sylus laughs endearingly. his signature, billionaire laugh that constantly stirs up butterflies within you. "trust me, my lady, you drank," he insists, grasping your wrist and pressing a fond kiss. flustered by his actions, you try to pull back, but sylus' grasp remains strong. his sharp gaze locks with yours as he continues. "the dress code here is formal. thus, our attire. you walked in looking like this. a wonderful choice, i must say. you look ravishing, and i am honored to have been sold to you because..." sylus leans in next to your face, his hot breath fanning your sensitive ears. "i wouldn't have anyone else as my master."  

you stand up immediately, uncontrollably blinking and blushing from what you just heard. unfortunately, you don’t realize that you are wearing heels, causing you to stumble backward. sylus swiftly stands up, pulling you to him with an arm around your waist, effectively and attractively saving you from your fall. you place both hands on his broad shoulders, trying to balance yourself and catch your breath. noticing that the two of you were basically conjoined by the groin, you avert your eyes away from him.  

"t-thanks," you stammer as you try to get some space by pushing at his shoulders. "you can let go of me now."  

sylus tilts his head, looking down at you mischievously and trying to meet your avoidant gaze. "is that a command, my lady?"  

puzzled by his question, you finally meet his eyes. sylus sighs a hum of satisfaction, relishing in your eye contact with him. "what do you mean command?" you ask. you were too occupied by sylus’ accusations of you drinking to fully capture his previous answers.  

"it's part of the contract you paid for. i am to obey your every command as your one and only cat butler." the man answers eagerly, as if what he had just said was completely normal. almost as if he was enjoying this.  

you blink once. then twice before asking, "i paid for this?" you did not like where this was going.  

"indeed, my lady. five million dollars to be exact. i am quite the expensive cat butler," sylus grins. normally, you would've found his grin cute. some fangs would peek out, and a slight dimple would show. moreover, he was wearing cat ears. which only added to his playful demeanor. but right now, you were mortified because FIVE MILLION DOLLARS?! WHERE DID YOU EVEN GET THAT MUCH MONEY?!

"what?!" you struggle against his embrace. "what do you mean five million dollars? not even a rare protocore is worth that much!" you panic as you think about your savings. did you seriously spend all your savings on a cat butler contract and put yourself into years’ worth of debt? oh god, if so, you were fucked. say goodbye to all your years of hard work and saving. 

sylus frowns at your last statement. "are you not satisfied, my lady?"

with your jaw dropped, you look at the man towering over you as if he had said something, for lack of a better term, dumb. which he technically did because who would be satisfied after spending five million dollars on a cat butler contract?! (me). "yes?!” you say incredulously. “who in this situation would be satisfied?! you just told me that i blew all my savings and probably even more for a stupid contract!" 

sylus sighs, pinching his nose bridge with his free hand. while it was one thing to have something related to him get called stupid, it was another to see you so rattled. he had to ease your mind, knowing it would spiral if he didn't act soon. "now, now my lady. there is nothing stupid about this contract. you'd be surprised by the numerous benefits that come with it. which are but not limited to me obeying your every command." 

you don’t know which is worse. the head of onychinus telling you that you spent a sickening amount of money just to see him in a suit with cat features. or the head of onychinus telling you that you were actually benefiting from spending a sickening amount of money just to see him in a suit with cat features. as much as the idea of sylus following orders sounded like heaven, being broke in a matter of who knows how long, or in this case, little, and for a stupid reason at that, was not great. not great at all. your gaze shifts rapidly, distracted with coming up with a solution. "are there any refunds by chance?" you ask meekly. 

a dangerous look passes over sylus’ crimson eyes. with no ill intent, of course. he could never harbor any feelings of malice towards you. but the idea of you wanting a refund bothered him greatly. he was not going to let you get rid of him so easily. his arm around your waist tightens, bringing you even closer to him. lifting his free hand, sylus curls a finger under your chin, tilting your face upwards to meet his burning gaze. you shiver, forced to drown in his deep pools of rubies. feeling a rush of pleasure from finally having your attention on him, sylus moves his hand from your chin and reaches behind you to caress the blade of your shoulder. you can't help but shudder at the sudden intimacy. why did this dress have to expose your back? 

"even if my services were terrible," sylus doesn't cease his feather-like touches on your back, causing you to twitch and pant from sensitivity. "there are no refunds," he rasps as he traces a finger down your spine, prompting a whimper from you. enjoying the small yet addictive noises that leave your pretty lips, sylus smirks. yes, this was how it was supposed to be. you, in his embrace where only he could make you feel good and only he could hear your sweet, sweet sounds.  

"sylus..." you try your best not to moan. "s-stop it." you hide your face in sylus' chest, wanting to muffle your sounds and smother your embarrassment away. "i-i got it. no refunds."  

liking what he hears, sylus ceases his ministrations. he brings his hand back to your chin, gently pulling you away from his chest and slowly tilting your face so that you meet his gaze once more. "i'm glad you understand, my lady," sylus closes in on you, his lips millimeters apart from yours. "you won't be returning me anytime soon."  

sylus smashes his lips against yours, earning a moan from you. with the hand that was on your chin now cupping your face and the arm that was around your waist tightening some more, the two of you fall back onto the velvet couch. you gasp at the impact, causing sylus to slide his tongue in, capturing your own in a heated dance that he seemed intent on leading. you shakily wrap your arms around sylus' neck, trying to keep up with his relentless kisses. out of the corner of your eye, you see sylus' tail desperately swaying left and right. an idea flashes in your head. as sylus continues to swirl his tongue in your mouth, you raise your hand from his neck and gently tug at one of his cat ears. sylus jerks violently, mewling filthily into your mouth. taking that as a sign of encouragement, you continue playing with his ear, causing him to lose himself more and more in your lips, your scent, your everything. 

when the two of you grow in need of breaths, sylus pulls away, panting the same rhythm as you. you had no idea how gorgeous you looked right now. splayed out underneath him in tempting attire that was of his signature color. hair disheveled, cheeks rosy, lips swollen, eyes teary—god, you were going to be the death of him. tenderly moving a stray hair out of your face, the silver-haired man speaks.  

"so, what is your first command, my lady?"

extra:

you inhale sharply as you jolt out of bed. what the fuck was that?  you breathe rapidly as you take in your surroundings. sighing a breath of relief, you find yourself back in your room and your comfy pajamas. tiredly rubbing a hand over your face, you start to agonize over the fact that you dreamt about making out with sylus. not only that, you dreamt about making out with him in cat ears. why? you're not sure what this says about you as a person, let alone your growing attraction to him. did you have a thing for pet pla—you don't let yourself finish that last thought. ruffling your hair in frustration, you fall back onto your pillow, determined to recover from that dream. you decide that you are going to avoid sylus for a few days. 

shifting into a comfortable position, you shut your eyes and wait for sleep to find you, causing you to miss the mechanical crow with glowing red eyes flying away from your window and into the night. sylus, viewing the surveillance screen back at his grand residence, tilts his head in curiosity, a subtle smirk appearing on his lips.

 "what did you dream about, kitten?"

[loveanddeepspaceimagines]

When you wear Bunny costume on Halloween (their reactions)

Hello guysss I'm backk? But it depends on activity on this post :)))

Since Halloween is coming soon , I've decided to write something about it.

For halloween you forced Zayne to go out with you for trick-or-treating, so now he stands at the front door, awaiting the arrival of you. Dressed as a doctor (ironic).

As he hears the front door opening, he turns around, expecting to see you in your usual matching costume.

But as he looks up, his jaw drops in surprise and awe. There, standing before him, is the most beautiful bunny he's ever seen. The costume hugs every curve of your body, accentuating your pretty legs and cleavage. The ears on the hood and little tail are fluffy and adorable.

"Wow," Zayne breathes out quietly, his eyes roaming over your form. "You look... amazing. Absolutely stunning."he mumbles.

A blush creeps across your cheeks at his reaction, and you do a little twirl, showing off the costume from every angle. "You really like it? You ask, your voice filled with excitement and nervousness.

Zayne steps closer, his hands reaching out to pull you closer, "Like it? I love it," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "You're the most beautiful bunny I've ever seen."

His hands trail down your back, resting on your hips,he can feel the heat radiating from your body, and he knows he wants nothing more than to peel off that costume and explore every inch of you.

As if reading his thoughts, you get bold and press yourself closer, your lips finding his in a passionate kiss. Zayne's eyes widen at first but then he responds eagerly, his hands roaming over your body, caressing and squeezing your curves through the fabric of the costume.

After while you two break apart, both panting and flushed with desire. "We should probably go," Zayne cove his voice bucky with need "But can't promise I'll be able to keep my hands off you all night."

You giggle, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "That's the point, isn't it?" You tease, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "Now, let's go I'm craving something sweet".

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The night of Halloween has arrived, and you've decided to surprise Xavier with a special costume. After much deliberation, you've settled on a spicy bunny costume that hugs your curves in all the right places. The white fur is soft against your skin, and the short skirt flares out , revealing just right amount of skin.

As you prepare to leave for the party, you hear Xavier's keys jingle in the lock. Your heart races with excitement and a hint of nervousness as you wait for him to enter the apartment.

The door swings open, and Xavier steps inside, his eyes widening as he takes in the sight of you. A slow, appreciative grin spreads across his face as he drinks in every detail of your costume."Wow" he breathes, his voice husky, "You look stunning, baby."

He walks towards you, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in the way the fur clings to your curves.

"Is this what you're wearing to the party?" he Murmurs, his voice low. "Because if so, I might have to keep you all to myself tonight."

You can't help but blush at his words, feeling a rush of heat between your thighs. Xavier leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers,

"You're the sexiest bunny I've ever seen, and I can't wait to unwrap my present later."

He pulls back, his eyes locked on yours, filled with a hunger that makes your knees weak. You know that this Halloween is going to be one to remember.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ɞ˚‧｡⋆

You're excited for Halloween, and you've decided to wear a bunny costume that's both cute and a little spicy. You slip into the outfit, the soft fur caressing your skin as you adjust the ears on your head. The crop top hugs your curves, showcasing your cleavage, while the short shorts hug your hips and thighs. You complete the look with a pair of thigh-high boots and a fluffy tail.

Rafayel is waiting for you in the living room, and you can't wait to see his reaction. As you step out, his jaw drops, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every detail of your costume.

"baby," he breathes, his voice low ,his cheeks heating up. "You look... wow. Just wow."

He stands up, his eyes darkening as he approaches you. He reaches out, his fingers tracing the edge of your crop top, his touch feather-light and teasing.

"Is this what you're planning to wear tonight?" he murmurs. "Because if so, I might not want to leave the house."

You giggle, feeling a rush of excitement at his reaction. "I thought you'd like it," you say with a playfully. "And what do you mean? Don't you want to go out trick-or-treating?"

Rafayel chuckles, pulling you closer, his hands resting on your hips. "Oh, I want to go out, all right. But I might have to keep you close all night, just to make sure no one tries to steal you away from me."

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ɞ˚‧｡⋆

You've decided to dress up as a bunny for Halloween, eager to surprise Sylus with your sexy costume. As you enter the party, Sylus's eyes widen in amazement, his jaw dropping slightly as he takes in the sight of you.

Sylus's eyes roam over your body, taking in every detail of your costume. He swallows hard, smirking,"y/n, you look... incredible," he Murmurs, his eyes dark with desire.

You giggle, your hand reaching out to caress his cheek. "You like it, huh?" you tease, your voice playful and flirtatious.

Sylus nods, his hand coming to rest on your waist, pulling you closer. "I love it," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "You're the sexiest bunny I've ever seen."he Murmurs.

Unable to resist any longer, Sylus captures your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth. You moan softly, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepen the kiss.

As you break apart, both breathless and flushed, Sylus grins at you mischievously. "I think we should find a more private spot," he suggests, his voice low and husky. "I have a few tricks up my sleeve for you, bunny."

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As the night of Halloween approaches, you spend days agonizing over your costume. Finally, you decide on a cute but spicy bunny costume, complete with a fuzzy tail and floppy ears. You can't wait to see Caleb's reaction when he sees you in it.

When the big night arrives, you carefully apply your makeup, adding a touch of red lipstick and smoky eyeshadow. You slip into the costume, admiring your reflection in the mirror.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for Caleb's reaction as you step out of the bathroom. He's waiting for you in the living room, and his jaw drops as he takes in your appearance.

"Holy shit," he breathes, his eyes widening as they roam over your body. "You look... wow. Absolutely stunning"You can't help but giggle at his reaction, feeling a rush of confidence and excitement. "You like it?" you ask, doing a little twirl to show off the costume.

"Like it? I love it," Caleb replies, his voice husky with desire. "You're the sexiest bunny I've ever seen."

He steps closer to you, his hands sliding around your waist as he pulls you against him. Your heart races as you feel the heat of his body against yours, his lips brushing against your ear.

"I think we should stay in tonight," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "I don't want to share you with anyone else."

Your skin tingles at his words, and you nod in agreement, your own desire building with eachpassing moment. "I'd like that," you whisper, your lips curving into a smirk.

As you can see I'm back againn!! It was difficult past few weeks but I'm okay now. I will be busy but I'll try to post as much as i can!

©loveanddeepspaceimagines 2024

[doctorbeth]

Rabbit -- one of your cherished stuffed companions

Rabbit belongs to one of you dear people, and she gave me permission to share his story with you.:-) He was in the hospital about a year ago.

She initially wrote:

I live in South Florida and I am a big fan of your hospital! I have a stuffed rabbit plush animal, I believe he may have once been a Bugs Bunny plush, but to me he has always been "Rabbit" and I cannot find any leads online as to his "origins". Rabbit has been with me since I was 6 months old-- he's almost 24 years old! He's been my constant companion, and I still sleep with him and love him to this day. As you might imagine, this has led to many surgeries... 

Lately, Rabbit has had very thin fabric fur, and you can see through to the stuffing (mostly on his tummy). He's also in need of some new stuffing, as his current has gotten pretty clumpy over the years. My mom and I have talked about possibly giving him a  complete fur transplant on his tummy as we have applied patches before, but we aren't experts and don't want to cause him harm! He gets holes in his fabric very easily as he has become very delicate from love over the years... We are almost afraid to touch him with anything other than a hug! 

Now there were many photos attached to this note, and just fyi, for diagnosis the more photos the better, but you all don't need quite so many close ups... here are three critical photos from his diagnosis:

You can really see in the last two photos how thin his fabric was getting.... but he has such a cute face, and it's mostly embroidered, and I thought they may want to keep that, so.... there were many (actually 7!) options for his care. Keep in mind, he's over 2 feet long, too. Here were the treatment options (a spa could be added to any):

1) Given his style of fabric, and his artistic belly patches, and the fact that he has embroidered facial features, we could line his body with new fabric.  This reinforces his body and limbs while keeping his current appearance.  He would get all new body stuffing as part of this treatment, as the stuffing would need to come out for lining and it can't go back in.  But, a small amount of original stuffing would be preserved in a heart in his chest.  With this treatment, he could still wear, but you would see lining before stuffing.  Also, for future repairs, the lining could take the pressure of stitches away from his skin.  I would also minimize the older scarring on his side. 

2) I can do everything in option 1, plus line his head. 

3) I can do everything in option 1, plus line his head and ears. 

4) Instead of lining, we could recover just his belly and lower sides of limbs. His original skin (and old patches) would remain underneath, reinforcing the new fabric.  I would get as close as possible to his current fabric color and texture.  Perfect fabric matches are rarely possible, but if that is the case, I will send photos of him with transplant options so you can choose what you like best. I would also minimize his scars. 

5) I can recover his entire torso and limbs (leaving his head and ears as is). I would also minimize his scars.

6) I can recover his belly and lower side of limbs around his patches (keeping his artistic appearance). I would also minimize his scars.

7) I can recover his belly around his patches and recover the rest of his body and limbs. I would also minimize his scars.

His person thought about it, discussed it with her family, and ultimately decided on option 5: recover his entire torso and limbs but leave his head and ears as is. They also added a spa for Rabbit, which would treat the lumpiness of his stuffing as well as clean him.

So Rabbit flew to the hospital and began treatment with his bubble bath:

He got restuffed before recovering, so here is his heart being made and installed with a bit of his original stuffing:

I started by recovering his gray areas, leaving the white of his pawpads and tail original. At this point, I sent chubbiness approval photos and let his person decide whether she still wanted to recover the white (which was in better shape than the gray):

His person wrote: "Wow, he looks amazing!! His chubbiness looks perfect, I can't wait to hold him! I would like to recover his white patches of fur"

So Rabbit got closed up, and the white got recovered, and then he was ready to fly home!

Approved, Rabbit flew home to Florida. When he arrived back cross country, his person wrote:

Rabbit is home!! Thank you so, so much!! He looks amazing, he's soooo soft and cuddly, I can't wait to spend many many more years with my darling angel rabbit! I cannot thank you enough Doctor, you're truly an angel!! I'm so blessed to have found you and your lovely hospital!! My mom and I can't stop gushing over how soft and cuddly Rabbit is, he's like brand new! I'll continue to treasure him for the rest of my life with your help!

[another-lost-mc]

a/n: this is for a friend that celebrated a birthday this week. I hope it was a good one! 🎉

when it's mc's birthday | the demon brothers

2.6k words | nsfw | gn!reader | fluff and non-explicit smut

cw: my fav bias is showing again. mostly soft!demons. car sex; levi's tail gets its own warning; bathing together and bath tub sex; dream magic and implied dream sex.

Lucifer plans your birthday with the utmost care. He booked a reservation at your favourite restaurant so that he can treat you to an intimate dinner. He remembered the various items you've pointed out to him in the past while browsing through the Devildom's shopping district. He went back and bought every single one of them, and they're already wrapped and tucked away in the back of his closet for later.

After he walks you home from the restaurant, there's a bottle of Demonus on ice waiting in his room. You share a toast while he watches you open your gifts. You kiss his cheek, eyes shimmery and warm with so much affection, and he can't resist the urge to kiss you properly. A soft, booze-sweetened kiss leads to another kiss, and another, and another after that. He strips your clothes off slowly, like he's unwrapping a gift of his own. He memorizes the sight of your body stretched languidly against his dark sheets. He almost feels selfish for a moment because he wants you so desperately, but the lust simmering in your gaze makes his heart race. He knows how much you want him too, and he's powerless to deny you.

The first time he makes love to you, it's heat and frenzied passion, the build-up of coy anticipation that finally boiled over. He reaches for you throughout the night between quiet conversation and short naps. Each time he pulls your body close to his again, his lips whisper tender confessions against the delicate shell of your ear while he worships your body with his over and over again.

Mammon isn't very subtle. In the days leading up to your birthday, he asks random questions about things you might like or activities you're interested in. He wants to get a head start and beat his brothers to the punch. His fake nonchalance isn't convincing, but it's still endearing how much he truly cares. Who else should celebrate your birthday if not him? He's your first, and he's not going to let anyone else spoil you more than he does.

He tries to budget his money and curb his spending so he can afford whatever it is you ask for. If that fails, he takes on some less-than-prestigious part-time gigs for extra cash. You could ask him for the world and he'd find a way to scrimp and save and scavenge and steal if he has to so he can give you whatever you want. He doesn’t realize (or doesn't believe) that his company is what makes your birthday really special.

He dresses up nice and polishes his car to a high-shine to match your own stunning smile and natural radiance. It doesn’t matter what you wear because when he tells you how gorgeous you are, he’s so sincere. You outshine all the riches and jewels he used to dream about—now he dreams of you instead.

He takes you on a date that's sweet and light-hearted. He holds your hand and stares at you across the table with a dopey grin on his face when he thinks you're not looking. Once you're alone in his car, that boyish giddiness fades into something greedy and confident. You meet him halfway when he leans over to give you a kiss. When kissing isn't enough for either of you, you push the seat back so he can climb over and settle between your legs. He takes you apart in the cramped front seat of his car until your voice is hoarse and you push him away from sensitivity. The car smells musky with sweat and cum and he doesn't care that you made a bit of a mess on the seat. He palms himself on the drive home, and by the time you get to his room, he's eager to do it all over again in the comfort of his bed.

Levi isn't sure what to do for your birthday, but you offer to plan a little outing for the two of you. All he has to do is keep you company, right? He braces himself with a mantra he repeats over and over in his head: do it for them, do it for them, do it and LIKE IT because you love them. It ends up being a lot more fun than he expects: a lunch date at one of the cafes you both like followed by a movie you’ve been excited to see. You don’t make fun of his sweaty palm when you hold hands in line to buy movie tickets and overpriced snacks at the concession bar. There's a cute plushie on display where they sell collectible merch. He buys that for you too and shoves it into your arms before you can protest.

He relaxes when you take your seats and the theatre lighting dims as the movie starts. You lean against his shoulder and he's glad you can't see how pink his cheeks are. Partway through the film, he decides he likes the movie, but not as much as he enjoys your warm fingers laced with his.

He jolts suddenly when you pull your hand away and slide your fingers onto his denim-clad thigh instead. Your fingers squeeze with the tiniest bit of pressure and he nearly gasps at the unexpected wave of lust that washes over him. He glances at you in confusion—you're still focused on the screen, but he can see the little smile curling the edge of your mouth. He squirms a little and pretends not to notice your fingers drawing lazy circle-eights across his jeans, inching higher up his leg when he doesn’t stop you. And you're right, he's not going to stop you. You run a fingertip over the growing bulge hardening against the zipper of his jeans, just as you feel his tail slide onto your lap and tease the sensitive skin between your legs.

Satan decides to take a different approach when he sees how overwhelmed you are by his brothers' plans for your birthday. Sometimes simple is best and what could be more relaxing or romantic than your favourite home-cooked meal? He fusses in the kitchen until everything is cooked exactly to your liking, and the dish he serves you looks as good as it smells. His room is tidied enough so that a small table fits—he doesn’t want the others bothering you if he serves you in the dining room. There are dozens of candles that cast you both in an ethereal glow while you eat together. His room might not offer the rich ambience of Ristorante Six or the electric atmosphere of The Fall, but nothing outshines the romance he creates here, just for you.

Once dinner is finished and he tidies up the mess, he pulls you to your feet and wraps his arms around you in a slow dance. It's more like swaying back and forth together as a classical record plays quietly in the background. Candlelight flickers playfully along the walls of his room, and your face is painted by a mirage of shadow and flame. He eagerly traces those shapes on your skin with his tongue after he lays you on his bed, and by the time you're shaking and falling apart in his arms, you'll know how much he loves you.

Your birthday is another chance for Asmo to spoil you. Throughout the afternoon, he leads you to each of his favourite boutiques in the Devildom's shopping district. He holds up dozens of clothes against your body and admires how the colours bring out your eyes or compliment your complexion or how luxurious the fabrics are. He pretends that he didn't pick all these out to show you (and buy them for you) in advance.

When he finally takes you to Majolish, his greatest gift is revealing that he personally designed this outfit specially for you. It fits flawlessly and even you think you look amazing. It’s obvious that he poured his love and passion into creating this for you when no one else ever has before. It’s almost overwhelming, the way his smile radiates warmth when he looks at you. His eyes burn with all the ravenous love he feels for you. He loses control of himself and kisses you, pressing you against the changing room wall and sliding his thigh between yours. He doesn't want to stop, but he doesn’t have the time or space to touch you properly here. When he pulls his leg out from between yours, he misses the searing heat of your body against his. Perhaps it’s for the best that he take you home first—he would hate to get stains on your new outfit so soon.

(He originally planned on taking you to The Fall but he changed his mind. He’s not in the mood to share you with anyone else tonight.)

When he takes you home, he leads you straight to his private bathroom and urges you to get undressed while he gets everything ready. He draws a warm bath and the steamy air clings to you both like a second skin. You feel self-conscious about being naked even though he stands before you, waist-deep in the bathwater and just as naked as you are. He takes your hand and pulls you gently into the water with him. He supports your weight when you lean against his chest and his hands start to wander over your body. His fingers leave a soapy trail up and down your spine. He cradles your neck and leans forward, capturing your lips in another kiss because he can't possibly wait anymore.

The kiss reignites both your desperate desires to touch and be touched. He walks you back towards the edge of the tub. When your back touches the cool marble stone, he reaches behind your thighs and lifts you onto the edge; he swallows your half-hearted protest with his lips moving greedily against yours. His mouth moves away from yours, ghosting along the curve of your jaw and down your neck while his fingers gently pry your legs apart. He bends his head low once you’re spread open for him, hot and trembling and all his. His eyes glow bright when you tangle your fingers in his hair, and it’s the last thing you see before he dips his head between your legs.

It's not surprising that Beel plans to take you out for dinner on your birthday. It's a tricky proposition because it's easy for him to lose control of his hunger when he goes out to eat. He doesn't want his sin to ruin your birthday dinner, so he eats a meal's worth of food beforehand. Having a partially-full stomach means he's not going to be completely distracted by hunger—he wants to focus on you.

He likes taking you to nice restaurants and your birthday is no exception. You put on a new outfit he’s never seen you wear before, but it looks so good on you that he's drooling from the corner of his mouth before you even leave the house. The restaurant is cozy and everything on the menu sounds delicious. Your nose bunches up adorably when you can't decide what to order, and Beel suggests ordering one of everything. He laughs deep in his belly when you glance at him skeptically over the brim of your menu. His eyes are bright with mischief even though you know he's dead-serious. He simply grins at you from across the table and reminds you that he won't let the food wouldn’t go to waste.

It doesn't take long for your food to arrive. Beel enjoys watching you eat while you make little sounds of contentment between bites. He offers you food from his own plate to try. When your plate is empty, he worries you might still be hungry; he's only satisfied when you promise that you're close to bursting and completely full. He leads you out of the restaurant by the hand, and his other hand carries a bag full of leftovers to share with you tomorrow.

When he walks you home, he doesn't want to seem needy or presumptuous even though he's reluctant to end the night so soon. He pauses outside your door and kisses you softly, whispering happy birthday against your lips that still taste sweet from your dessert earlier. He can’t resist swiping his tongue across the seam of your mouth for one more taste, and the kiss deepens when you part your lips for him. You only break the kiss just long enough to open your door and pull him inside your room before slamming the door shut again. Your hands tug impatiently at his waist, and he shivers at the metallic clink of his belt buckle coming undone. He can sense hunger rising inside you again, and when he pushes you gently onto the mattress and covers your body with his own, he realizes your appetite is as insatiable as his own.

Belphie doesn't mind if the others want to take the initiative and plan your birthday party. He prefers it that way, actually. When his brothers ask for his input, he recommends something casual at the house, nothing too fancy. He wants you to be happy and relaxed and spoiled where you can be comfortable.

He sneaks into town to buy you a gift before the party, of course—something you mentioned to him in passing once that was too expensive for you to justify buying at the time. He and Beel wrap the presents they bought you in their room. Belphie's present looks insignificant compared to the large pile of gifts stacked near your birthday cake. He's not worried, especially when your eyes light up when you open it. You're just as appreciative of his small gift as you are of the others you receive. He knows you so well.

(You keep the contents of his card to yourself: a reminder that he has something special to give you later.)

Sometimes when he takes you to the attic for bed, he falls back against the mattress and waits impatiently for you to crawl on top of him. There's no hint of his lazy smugness tonight though. His hands are gentle but efficient when he strips your clothes away first before taking off his own. He follows you down onto the bed and smothers your body with his. The soft mattress cushions you when he grinds against you, and it squeaks from the force of his thrusts when he rocks inside you too. Your skin is littered with the little marks he sucks and nibbles into your skin. He cleans you with a warm, damp cloth after because your thighs and belly are covered in a sticky mess of you and him. He takes care of you with so much tenderness. You’re already snoring lightly by the time he's finished, and he cuddles against you with a yawn.

Shortly after you fall asleep, you dream of him. It’s a shared illusion between you conjured with the sleepy brand of magic he commands. You writhe against him in your sleep as the embers of lust continue to burn deep inside you. When the dream ends, you both wake up and instinctively reach for each other as the remnants of the dream fades away. He kisses you breathless despite your stale morning breath. You whimper against his mouth and he rolls over until you're underneath him again. After indulging in a night of dreamy, lustful sins, you're both still desperately eager for more.

read more: obey me masterlist

[simplygojo]

Trick or Treat

Author’s Note: Hey friends!!! This is the only fluff piece I wrote for the spooky szn...but thats okay!! I love this concept and I love including pokemon in this blurb bc I've resparked my obession as of late...anyways I HOPE Y'ALL LIKE THIS!!

Spooky Szn Masterlist

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: mildly suggestive jokes...bc it's gojo...

Spooky Szn Taglist: @nanamisrighthand @simplyyyuji; @megumisdivinedogs; @lovleyredheadfairy

You had been dating Gojo for quite some time now, and it was heartwarming to see him step into his role as a father. 

Megumi, his precious six-year-old adoptive son, had been bursting with excitement about Halloween for weeks. 

After brainstorming costume ideas together, Megumi insisted he wanted to dress as Pikachu, and you both couldn’t resist his adorable enthusiasm. 

Gojo and you decided to dress as Pokémon trainers to match him, thrilled to create a fun experience for Megumi and his two best friends, Nobara and Yuji, who would be joining you for the evening.

“Ready, Pikachu?” You called, looking over to your right. Megumi, wearing his Pikachu onesie and a plush tail flopping behind him, nodded vigorously, his excitement barely contained.

“Pika!” He squeaked, bouncing on his feet.

“Let’s go catch ’em all!” Gojo chimed in, his voice laced with that signature playful energy. 

He stood tall beside you, dressed similarly in a Pokémon trainer outfit, complete with a red and white cap that made him look both adorable and rugged. His azure eyes sparkled with mischief as he adjusted his jacket, revealing just a hint of his toned arms.

“Are you two ready?” Yuji exclaimed, bouncing on his heels in his Bulbasaur costume, while Nobara, decked out in an Eevee onesie, rolled her eyes playfully.

“I just want candy already,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Aw, but we have to catch our Pokémon first!” Gojo teased, leaning down to ruffle Megumi’s hair, which was a fluffy mess of black locks peeking out from under the yellow hood. “Who knows what rare Pokémon we might find tonight?”

With a bright laugh, you turned the corner, leading the small group down the tree-lined street. 

The houses were adorned with glowing jack-o’-lanterns and spooky decorations, creating a festive atmosphere that made the night feel magical.

As you approached the first house, Gojo leaned closer to you, whispering conspiratorially, “You know, I’ve always thought that if I could be any Pokémon, I’d be the one with the best moves.”

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh really? And what would that be?”

With a grin that could only be described as devilish, he leaned down to whisper into your ear, “The one that really knows how to please… the ladies.”

You stifled a giggle, aware that Megumi and the others were too busy marvelling at the giant spider decorations to hear.

“That’s enough, Satoru…” You teased through your grin.

He chuckled softly in response, his eyes sparkling as his gaze returned to the kids. 

Megumi and Yuji were animatedly discussing the giant decorative spider with Nobara, who was beaming in her cute Eevee outfit. 

The sight of them, with their pumpkin shaped candy bags clutched tightly in their little hands and their laughter ringing out, warmed your heart.

Gojo leaned down slightly, his enthusiasm evident as he exclaimed, “Look at them! I can’t believe how cute they are! This is what Halloween is all about!” 

His voice was filled with genuine excitement, his typical bravado replaced with a softer, almost fatherly affection as he watched the trio.

As they approached the first house, you could see Megumi leading the charge, his confidence growing with every step. 

He was so proud in his Pikachu tail, ready to collect the first of many treats. 

You exchanged a glance with Gojo, who smiled back at you, both of you sharing a moment of joy over the happiness of the kids.

“Trick or treat!” They chorused as they reached the door, bags held out expectantly.

The door swung open, and the homeowner beamed at the adorable sight before them. 

“Oh wow, what fantastic costumes! Here you go!” They dropped handfuls of candy into the kids’ bags, their smiles wide as they watched the tiny trainers beam with excitement.

Gojo crouched down, letting Megumi and his friends dive into their candy bags. “Alright, who’s ready for a candy taste test? I’ll bet I can guess which ones are the sour ones just by looking at your faces!”

“Not a chance!” Yuji challenged, popping a gummy worm into his mouth and grimacing dramatically.

“Just wait until I catch you in my Poké Ball,” Gojo teased, his tone light and playful. “Then we’ll see who’s really on the menu.”

You chuckled, shaking your head at his audacity. “You’re terrible,” you said, giving him a playful shove.

—

As the night went on, laughter echoed in the crisp air, and the streets filled with excited shouts of “Trick or treat!” Megumi led the charge, his tiny Pikachu tail swaying with every enthusiastic step.

At one particularly decorated house, a creepy sound machine blared to life, and Nobara squealed, jumping closer to Yuji, who laughed and playfully pushed her away. 

Gojo, always one to lighten the mood, casually said, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the scary noises… and any wild Pokémon lurking around.”

You watched, heart full, as Gojo interacted with the kids, his teasing demeanour bringing joy to everyone around him. 

“Just remember,” he added with a wink, “if any Pokémon try to jump you, I can give you guys one of my Ultra Balls. They’re great for scaring off unwanted attention, but I’m not sure if Pokemon can even use Pokeballs…Y/n definitely knows how to use my balls though!”

“Gojo!” You exclaimed, laughter bubbling up as you realized he was slipping another cheeky joke in that would fly over the kids’ heads.

—

Eventually, as you made your way back home with bags full of treats and memories, Megumi stopped in his tracks and turned back towards you and Gojo, his voice ringing out, “This was the best-est Halloween ever! Thanks, Dad!”

Gojo’s heart swelled at the words, and he knelt down to Megumi's level, beaming with pride. 

“You were the cutest Pikachu out there! I’d say you’re a Pokémon master now,” he said, ruffling Megumi’s hair affectionately.

You watched the two of them, your heart melting at the bond they shared. 

“You really did amazing tonight, Megumi,” you added, stepping closer and giving him a playful poke in the side. “I think you collected more candy than anyone else!”

“Yeah, obviously!” He exclaimed, puffing out his chest proudly. “And next year, I’m going to dress as Charizard!”

“Charizard, huh? I can’t wait to see that!” Gojo laughed, his voice full of warmth. “But remember, you’ve got to practice your flying moves. I’ll help you!”

Megumi let out a small giggle before running ahead to walk alongside Nobara and Yuji, resuming their discussion on which Pokemon they should dress up as next year.

You and Gojo walked closely together, your fingers brushing against each other, the evening’s warmth wrapping around you like a cozy blanket.

“So y/n… was that the best-est Halloween ever?” Gojo asked, glancing down at you with a soft smile, his usual cocky demeanour giving way to a moment of genuine sweetness.

“Definitely,” you replied, leaning into him as you both watched the kids chatter excitedly about their favourite candies. 

“Though I think you might have enjoyed it a little more than them.”

“Can you blame me? With such cute trainers by my side, how could I resist?” He smirked, leaning in closer, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek.

The night glimmered with the promise of many more adventures together, each one more magical than the last. 

And as you glanced at Megumi’s smiling face, you knew this was just the beginning of many happy memories.

[randomarttalent]

Pie's family redesigns + Family tree

Original posts, info and links down below

Maud "Slate" Pie + Mudbriar "Walnut"

Maud "Slate" Pie I've kept Maud mostly the same all over, her pallet and color scheme are already good in my taste. She now has spots to match Pinkie but also as a hint to her special talent, as I wanted it to look like an opened geode. I didn't like that her cutie mark was only just a rock, it didn't say a single thing about her special talent. Now it says a bit more, showing off that she can find true beauty under what others might just see as a rock.

She wears her normal dress, as I didn't see a reason to change it. I've however added a small bracelet, which has different beads, to represent her sisters. As she might not show or say it much but she loves them all dearly.

Mudbriar "Walnut" I've darkened his pallet a little, more so his overall design didn't end up too light or dark. I've given him cloven hooves and a long tail, as I see him from a family of mixed unicorn and earth ponies. His markings are like branches/roots of trees, showing his connection to the trees. Same story for his cutie mark as Maud's, it was too simple for what his special talent is. So I've added a book but it's standing by its opening, as a small hint to tents, as he travels to examine trees, learning about as many as he can and writing it down for others to read.

Mudbriar now wears a travel backpack, which is for his travels. He doesn't wear much else, as he doesn't see the need to.

Gilda "Glory" + "Shady" Limestone Pie

Gilda"Glory" I've darkened her whole pallet and added some markings. As she's a mountain lion + tiger in this AU. Her design hasn't been changed much, I've added some jewelry but not much else.

"Shady"Limestone Pie Limestone's pallet is mostly the same, its his patterns that darken his look. Lime is trans in my AU, as his anger issues were caused by him not feeling whole/as he should be. His cutie mark has been changed to a broken opened geode, with lime-green stone, which resembles a lime.

He has a few pricings and wears a his band's t-shirt, which says ROAD KILL, Gilda also has one but she mostly wears it to his concerts, showing her support.

 Trouble Shoes + Marble "Droplet" Pie

Trouble Shoes I've made Trouble Shoes slightly darker and added a few lighter strips to his mane and tail. He also now has a beard, which to those who don't know him, makes him look even more scary than before. For his cutie mark I wanted something more than just "bad luck". He of course still struggled to find out what he was meant to do, as he thought the clown nose and wig was some cruel joke the world did to him.

As for his clothing, I went with a nice jacket, kept his hat and his weeding ring.

Marble"Droplet"Pie Marble's pallet has mostly stayed the same, only receiving slight changes and the usual markings that come along with my redesigns. Her cutie mark now shows off how well she makes jewelry with the beautiful gems they find in Appleloosa. To me, her cutie mark never told a single thing about what she was to do, it said marble but what else? So now, she's a crystal collector and seller.

The clothing she wears is a simple shawl, her weeding ring, a few earrings, a few flowers from her middle oldest son, a sun anklet to represent her oldest son and a small bat wing hair tie to represent her youngest son. 

[milqueandsugar]

Hihi! I absolutely LOVED your headcanons for a short reader so, could you do alastor with a bunny sinner, like someone who looks all innocent and cute with a tail and makes little squeaks?? If not it's fine love your stuff and take care lovely!! <3

Gen , fluff

includes , alastor

A/N - Im so happy you like my stuff! This is a shorter little drabble but i had fun writing this, hope to see you around in my asks/notifs!

ALASTOR keeps his animalistic traits entirely to himself. Hiding pieces of his nature from even his most beloved, You included. So courting you, so open with your ears and tail, indulging in the instincts your form as forced upon you is... new. It's a mild concern of his at first, seeing it as a weakness. He's proud enough to assume most sinners that can do you any real damage have the sensibility not to approach the lover of The Radio Demon. However he does subtler things to hide your traits, the same things he does for himself. He gets you clothes that cover your tail, perhaps a matching jacket to his own or trousers. It's subtle enough you may not ever notice, and he doesn't push you to wear any of the more modest items as to not pressure you into hiding yourself. Just a gentle nudge to make sure you're safe.

ALASTOR finds your little squeaks quite endearing, though he may not invite you onto his radio show incase you accidentally peak the mic. He certainly teases you about it, when alone and in a good mood he might mimic your little squeaks. Occasionally, very later into your relationship he'll let a few of his own animalistic noises out in response.

ALASTOR teases you all in good fun. He himself is very particular about his image and reputation, and if he ever got word or a sense that his teasing cut to close he'd back off. He'd never quite apologize per se but you'd never hear a negative or teasing remark about your rabbit traits ever again. Never by him, and those that dare never speak again afterwards, he makes sure of it personally.

[axcel-lucci]

Trick or tease

Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

A/n: decided to take a break for a moment lol, and I kinda wanna be a little dirty-

My masterlist

"Captain would LOVE this!" Ikkaku giggled as she hands (y/n) an outfit far too revealing to be a Halloween costume.

"D-do I have to wear this...? It seems... So embarrassing..." She muttered while staring at the outfit.

"It's not like captain's going out with us, and you want to stay so... Might as well enjoy, right?" Ikkaku grinned making (y/n) sigh heavily

"I see your point... But this is rather... Odd... Why do you simply have this in your closet? Specifically, in my size?"

"Ah well..."

...

The crew had left to go have fun on halloween, what will they do? Eh, who cares.

She put the outfit on and it was an overly sexualised bunny outfit in black, the top being right as hell, almost like a corset, and has no way to latch into her skin other than its tightness since it doesn't even have sleeves, her legs basically just being covered with fishnet stockings and good thing she has black heels to match.

What's left is the bunny ears and uh... Tail.

"Who's into this stuff?" She muttered to herself as she squeezed the fluffy tail in her hand that has a very obvious plug to stick inside her.

It just so happens the outfit has a hole to stick it inside without ruining it.

"And why does Ikkaku has this??" She also muttered

She puts on the ears first, since it was easier, and had to stop herself from whining too loud when she pushed the plug inside her unprepared ass, it was a weird sensation but it gave her pleasure nonetheless.

'so embarrassing...' she thought as she walked a few steps and whining softly at the pleasure on her backside.

"Will he even like this...?" She muttered before huffing with a frown.

A blush starting to form and her panties basically starting to dampen at every step she takes

"I shouldn't have put that there..." She said lowly before standing outside his office door.

"Come in" he said before she could even knock, damn his good haki.

She took a breath before exhaling to calm herself.

Walking in and closing the door behind her, Law was still studying in his desk, not noticing what she wore until he heard her heels clicking against the wooden floorboards.

He looked up from his book and his jaw dropped.

His already so beautiful and sexy woman in an even more sexier outfit, outlining her curves and practically every line he could see.

His boom was long forgotten as he stared at her with wide eyes and jaw dropping even more when she huffed and placed a hand on his desk

"Trick or treat... Captain" she muttered with a slight blush.

When he looked at her, he couldn't help but feel his pants tighten so much it was painful.

"H-hey...! Stop staring at me! I-is this alright...? Or should I have just called you into the bedroom instead...?" She muttered as she checked herself a little to make sure everything was in place

He couldn't help but lean when he saw the fluffy tail, he couldn't help but wonder if it was part of the costume or a plug-in. Only one way to find out.

"Come here" he said with a heavy tone

She walked around the desk to stand in front of him, he marveled at how beautiful the outfit was.

"So pretty..." He muttered before reaching out to her thighs, squeezing them tightly and pulling her close until she's standing, quite literally, between his legs.

His hands explored her legs while he kissed her abdomen while staring up at her with lust slowly filling his eyes, "did the crew put you up to this?"

"N-not really..." She gasped when he squeezed her ass tightly and his finger playing with the tail, making it wiggle inside her

"Oh?"

"I wanted to uhm... You know... So I asked Ikkaku and she helped me..."

"I see..." He smirked when he figured out that it was indeed a plug in, "I'll have to thank her tomorrow... The crew's out, yeah?"

"Mhmm" she nodded, words left her once he grabbed hold of the tail and moving it around by playing with it on the outside, "l-law... I... Mhh" she whined and gripped his shoulders

"You should've said trick or tease because this surely seemed to be a treat and a tease." He chuckled when he pulled it out slightly and shoving it back with a harsh thrust making her howl a moan, "but definitely a tease."

"L-law...! P-please..." She panted

"Definitely using this hole" he smirked

"H-huh...? But we've never really..."

"Ahh... I know" he smirked as he stood up and picked her up, "I'll take care of you. Promise"

He carried her to their room and locking it behind him just in case.

He placed her gently on the bed before turning her around so that her ass was in the air and her chest against the mattress.

"Come now..." He smirked as me pulled out their box of toys.

Contrary to popular belief, he loves using them on her, mostly because they bring her to much more reactions and resulting into more begging, in which he both loves.

"Let's remove this..." He smirked when she whined at him slowly pulling it out.

Until it popped out of her making her sigh in pleasure.

Remember the hole that the tail just went in? As it turns out, it was kinda big. Just closed up by a zipper.

Law licked his lips when he slowly unzipped her backside, revealing the already wet and slightly prepared hole.

"Now be quiet bunny,I'm preparing you for some mating." He smirked before pulling out beads in his pile.

He slowly but surely started teasing her with them, putting one in and popping it right out, putting them all in ever so slowly until she cries when he pulls them out in one tug.

By the time he knew he was done, her back side already felt so sensitive a small drop of lube might even make her come.

He hummed a little, "not enough" he smirked when he lubed up a dildo and slowly pushed it inside her with a teasing pace making her gasp and clench on the sheets with a drawn out, tired moan.

Once fully inside, he gave her some time to adjust before mercilessly pounding the toy in and out of her.

By this time, she was moaning against the sheets and a coil building up inside her, ready to snap.

Right before she was able to come, he pulled the toy all the way out.

"No...!" She cried, "i-i was so close...!"

"I don't want you coming to a toy, bunny" he smirked before climbing unto the bed and spreading her cheeks apart to stare at her delicious hole he wonderfully prepared just for himself.

"L-law...!"

"I'm your predator now, bunny. And you're my prey... This time, I'm mating with you and you have no choice but to accept it like the little slut you are." He chuckled before gripping her neck, burying her into the mattress even more

She gasped with a moan, her eyes rolling to the back on her head when he slapped her ass

"Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, s-sir...!"

"Good..." He smirked before slowly pushing himself inside her as she moaned, muffled by the bed until he bottomed out

His hands then gripped her hips so tightly she knew it was gonna bruise, "that's right... Bunny. Be my little mate and this wolf will devour you whole"

She whine, feeling him thrust slowly made her feel weird at first but it eventually felt more and more pleasurable as he builds his pace into a very much animalistic one.

Her loud moans, his deep grunts, and the slapping of skin are the only sounds heard inside the room.

She moaned like a cow when he leaned down and pulled the top part of her outfit to reveal her tits in which he played with, and him leaving marks of ownership on every exposed skin she has. Unfortunately, the outfit was slightly backless so he had his marks on her upper half

"A-ah...! L-law..." She moaned when she felt herself slowly growing more and more closer to her own release.

"It's master to you, prey." He growled as he slapped her ass making her gasped and eyes roll back.

"Y-yes master...!" She moaned.

Her back arched and tongue poking out of her mouth as her own saliva dropped down her chin when his thrusts suddenly grow more possessive.

"This body is mine, you understand? I'll buy you more outfits like this... Just know... You are mine, and mine a lone" he grunted in her ear as she felt him pulse inside her.

His mere voice brought her to her own orgasm that soaked the outfit and her but he was still going.

Eventually, he reached down to rub the very wet spot by her crotch, letting her approach yet another orgasm.

"M-master..!" She gasped.

He sped up his own thrusts, chasing his own high, before releasing his full load deep inside her, like he was fully intending to breed his bunny.

Once both were calmed down, law took the costume off and laid her naked body properly on the bed, on her back.

He smiled softly and kissed every inch of her body, massaged any tense muscles and just stared at his own cum leaking out of her hole endlessly.

"S-stop staring" she muttered but didn't do anything since she's tired.

"I really loved your outfit" he smiled as he cleaned her up and cuddled right next to her.

"I'm... Glad."

"Next time you wear that on Halloween, I would never be able to stop myself even further"

"Why? What's stopping you from doing it now?" It was a genuine question from (y/n).

But with the context of what they just did, Law took this as part 2 and tackled her

She just laughed a little until he impaled her ass again with his dick, making her moan so much more than just a cow. Fucking her dumb like he always do, but better.

Extra:

Her throat hurts the next day, her limbs were sore, and she was tired as hell. Considering they fucked until the sun rises.

But Law? Hell nah, he was bright and shining. Taking care of his bunny, and being in the brightest mood.

It was odd for him to be like that but Ikkaku knew what happened and just laughed to herself, and by herself I mean her, Shachi, and penguin.

But of course Law let her have some rest and even spoon fed her throughout the day, gave her desert, and gave up his studies just so he can cuddle with her.

Only to do the same thing next week at a hotel. Good thing the hotel had soundproof walls, hopefully.

[bamfaholic]

From Eden to Sit at Your Door | Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2| Part 3|

AO3 here! ❤

TW for assault! Viewer discretion advised!!!

A/N: It's getting hot in here! Very juicy part imo

Kurt Wagner is in for it when you get your hands on him. This little disappearing act is growing stale; he needs to refresh his routine. You scramble out of the bed, at least making it — unlike a fuzzball we know — and changing into the spare clothes he brought.

The revelation you are a mutant had you think a little differently. You found yourself really focusing on what you could hear. Any whispers that could be useful to you. There was plenty of deafening ambience, just like last night. You ball your fists. Just… Just focus. Focus on one thing.

You picture Kurt, his smile, his radiant eyes. Your cheeks burn. Yet… There it is. Ever so faintly, the familiar sound of his breathing, the tip of his tail cutting through the air.

So, you’ve managed to hear him, but that doesn’t narrow down where he is. You aren’t aware of the limitations to your abilities just yet, your radius could be 50 feet or 50 miles for all you knew.

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. You figure you might as well use context clues to decipher his motives. After some fumbling around in the dim room, you find the box of matches. A strike later, and the match roars to life. You make your way around, lighting the few candles, until the match burns to a nub singing your fingertips.

You yelp in surprise, dropping the remains on the floor. It’s nothing, not even a true burn, the shock is what rocked you the most. Once you recollect yourself, the first thing to draw your attention is the open manilla envelope on the bench.

You snoop, flipping through the pages. Everything is written in English. You kick yourself for not paying better attention in class, as so many words are too complex and foreign. Beginner English you pick up on, and the few cognates. In defeat, you flip back to the front, seeing a photo of a woman. Blue, angled cheeks, sleek vivid red hair. Surprisingly, her eyes match Kurt’s in color, but in addition they have slit-shaped pupils. Just how common are blue mutants?

You slip the photo in your pocket. Not much of a plan, you realize, but you can at least make it so Kurt can’t deny the existence of the folder. You leave it on the bench, trading it for your white cane, and make the voyage out of the spare room.

You swear you get lost in the claustrophobic corridors at least twice, and it doesn’t help when you realize you’re in the basement. You avoid anywhere that grows too dark for your comfort. You aren’t sure how long it takes you, just that the sun is up when you finally make it to the sanctuary.

“Wow…” It’s completely different from last night, like you stepped through a portal. The sheets are gone, dust eliminated, warm candles illuminate the gorgeous stained glass and adorned ceiling.

It looks inviting, like its excitedly awaiting the next congregation. Kurt is hung by his tail, upside down, wiping down a beam with a rag. He softly hums a hymn to himself as he does so. It’s a cute sight, his nappy hair suspended midair. He’s still wearing his tank, now trying to slip off his toned body due to gravity, and his light-colored shorts.

He releases the grip with his tail, flipping himself upright, and lands flawlessly on his feet in just a few seconds. Hands on his hips, he admires his handiwork.

You tip toe across the aisle to stand behind him. “Good morning, Kurt.”

“Ah!” He jumps, launching the dirty rag across the room, his tail sticking straight up like a cat. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack, Schatz?”

You snicker, unable to help yourself. “Sorry, sorry. It was too easy.” You get on your tip toes to ruffle his hair, only now you realize how tall he is.

He gruffs, but you see the grin threatening to peak through. “Apology accepted, but I won’t be so nice next time.”

“How so?” You cock your head to the side.

“Like this!” He lunges towards you; his hands making their way under your arms and tickling you. You shriek out before crumbling into a ball of laughter. Once he’s wrecked enough havoc, he sets you free as you gasp for air. “That’ll show you.”

Your chest noticeably rises and falls. “R-Right. I’ve learned my lesson. I won’t spook you again.”

“Damn right,” he says with a laugh, helping you back up to your feet. “did you sleep well?”

“Uh, yeah. I did.” You nervously run circles into the back of your neck, too ashamed to admit it was the best sleep of your life. “So what are you up to?”

“Oh, well someone very sneezy said I should dust,” Mischief flickers in his eyes, “And I should honor God , what better way than to clean His home?”

“I suppose you have a point.”

“Aye, friend, I do!” He hops on top of a pew, crouching like before, in your flat.

“But what now?” You look around the room, unsure what he could do next. You rub your fingers together with the photo between them in your pocket. You aren’t quite sure how or when to bring up the file.

“Head to the market, probably.” His tail happily sways behind him. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

Right on cue, your stomach loudly proclaims its emptiness. Kurt only laughs, hopping back down to his feet. You now note how active he is, he can’t seem to sit still. He pats your back before spinning around, throwing on his coat and hat. “I’ll be off, don’t answer the door.”

“What? You’re going alone?” You’re stunned, but he continues on, heading to the front door.

“Ja, you’ve already been hurt Schatz. I can’t… I cannot allow it again. I will not.”

You don’t know what to say to that. His tone sharply switching grim, serious. It was strange to see him this way.

“Well, I’ll be seeing you. Ciao!” Kurt opened the door, his trademark grin back, and right as he took a step out the door lightning crackled down, striking a few blocks away. Thunder tumbles over your heads, rain pouring from above.

“Shit.” He swears under his breath. “There goes that.” He sighs, putting his coat back on the hanger. “The church will flood and I can’t let it be ruined more than it already is. I’m its only protector now…”

Kurt briskly saunters past you, and you can already see what he means. So much water slowly drips from the ceiling, but a few spots have proper holes causing the downpour no difficulty.

You fiddle with your hands, not sure what to do to help. Kurt has already dipped into some corridor. He is hard to track, hard to spot. It isn’t hard to see why he was so surprised you caught him in your apartment yesterday.

Slowly, you walk back down the aisle of the sanctuary, running a hand along each pew. Some are pristine, but most are cracked. Some have their upholstery torn up, most likely from mold and water damage. There remains a handful of bibles in the shelves, none of them in great condition. The pages are puffed up, discolored, and wavy. A few flames have died out from the rainwater, shifting the ambience cooler. A hole in the roof creates a spotlight on Christ’s face. His peaceful expression, eyes casted downward to onlookers below. Holes in his wrists and ankles, oozing marble blood.

It sends a shiver down your spine.

The bible at the altar is open, and with the thick layer of dust it’s evident it hasn’t been touched in quite some time. Why was this the one thing Kurt didn’t touch? You wonder.

It’s open to the book of Mathew, and some of the phrases are familiar. Lines you’ve heard incessantly in your life, such as: “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” You never understood the seeming hypocrisy, what it really meant.

Your eyes are drawn to a specific line thickly underlined:

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

There’s a thin scratch in the dust layer, like a nail digging through. You reach out to touch, to read more, maybe this will give you a glimpse into Kurt. This entire adventure had you forget why you even interacted with the man in the first place: your book.

You hear a crash and a commotion, like tons of metal falling to the ground. “Kurt!” you shout, rushing to his direction, but his blue-self pops out from a hallway.

“Ja?” He says, chipper as ever.

Kurt comes back with pots, bowls, and buckets. He strategically sets them up, before seating himself at the altar. He lights two candles before mumbling to himself, clasping his hands in prayer.

You carefully seat yourself beside him, enjoying the beauty. The candles are warm, comforting. They remind you of last night. You never cared for church, hated it in fact, but were happy it gave Kurt peace.

“Amen.” He finishes, raising his head and glancing to you.

“Why do you believe?” You spit out.

His glimmering eyes examine you, “Why don’t you? There is no proof to swing you one way or another.” He leans back, propping himself up with both of his hands.

“Well, it’s just… You’ve been through an awful lot. Not many would be thanking God for that.”

Kurt throws his head back in a laugh, his hand mere inches from yours. “I suppose not, but that is what makes me different. God destined me for these trials, these… Tribulations. I will prove myself as much as He needs me to.” His other hand moves up to feverishly clutch the rosary adorning his neck.

You click your tongue, not one to be religious. “I just don’t think it’s fair.”

“Aye, well, nothing is fair, friend.” He gently pats your head. “We would be puppets if not for the first sin, if our mother and father Adam and Eve hadn’t listened to the serpent. It was the cost of our autonomy.”

You hold your tongue, not comfortable in fighting his beliefs. At least he isn’t forcing it upon you. “Your rosary is beautiful.” You point to it. “Where did you get it?”

“That…” He peers down his chest. “The nunnery that raised me claims they found me with it, so I’d assume my mother.”

“You don’t know her? You grew up in a nunnery?”

He winces, slightly. You’ve accidentally opened an old wound. “In a sense, no. She… She abandoned me, for even I was too monstrous for her. So God led me to the sisters. I am ever grateful.”

You don’t think as you make your move, gently placing your hand on top of his. “Well, this mother of yours, she doesn’t deserve to know the kind of man you’ve become. You’re better than she will ever be.”

He chuckles, cheeks flushing. “You flatter me, Schatz.” He turns to look at you, his smile melting you into a puddle. “I’m so happy you think so.”

Thunder rolls above again, lightning cracking and snapping outside, yet you two are focused on no one else. The tension is thick, and you hear his heart fluttering.

“I’m so happy I met you, friend.” His brilliant glow is blinding.

You nervously swallow. “M-Me too.” You glance away, your face so hot it feels like it’s melting.

“And…” He gives your hand a squeeze. “I am no saint, friend. I am very much a dirty sinner.” He drops his voice to a whisper, leaning in close to you.

His mouth is slightly parted, breath hot. You can see the tips of his fangs threatening to poke out. His grip is a little tighter. You forget to breathe.

“Will you sin, with me?”

Your heart does cartwheels before lodging in your throat. Unable to speak, you just nod.

His eyes slowly close, his head slightly askew. He’s leaning closer to you, his breath warms and tickles the tips of your ears.

Blood is rushing through you, digging your nails into your palms just to stay grounded. This feels so soon, way too soon, but you can’t help it and comply.

You allow yourself to melt, leaning in, pressing your lips together. Fireworks burst between you, his lips so soft and gentle. Your skin is electrified. He’s so warm, and he smells sweet like a doughy pastry.

A hand of his slides up your back, cradling your neck. He pulls you into his lap, enveloping you in intoxicating warmth and desire. You raise a shaky hand to run through his hair. This all feels like a dream, a magnificent dream.

He bites down on your lower lip, hard. Its as if ice cold water is thrown on you. You inhale sharply in distress, the taste of blood filling your mouth. You try to yelp as you open your eyes but find yourself staring at someone else. Their features melt and realign, but the golden sclera remain. It’s the woman from before, the mutant Kurt was after.

She wipes your blood from her lips with her thumb, licking it away. You open your mouth to scream something, anything.  “Ah ah ah~,” She tuts, jamming a large metal device in your gut.

Electricity burns your skin, your muscles convulse and fight against your senses. You fall backward, to the harsh unforgiving floor. She rises to her feet, heels of her boots clicking on the stone.

She speaks in English, just barely out of your view. All you can see is her blurry blue silhouette. The footsteps circle themselves, before she comes back straight to you. She stretches up in height, her skin forming metal plates, and in a blink she’s a broad man made of metal.

She heaves you over her shoulder, and out the front doors of the church. The icy rain beats down on your back, soaking you completely while you still fight the convulsions. You’re hurled into an armed vehicle with English lettering on the side.

Inside, you’re completely surrounded. Soldiers, just like the ones from your flat. They pay you no mind, one of them slapping jagged, strange looking handcuffs on your wrists.

The truck squeals before it begins to move, and you’re jostled by every bump and turn. Rain drops down from your hair, and you watch the puddles grow at your feet. The despair in your heart is soul crushing. Again and again, you’re left like this: helpless. When will it end?

You close your eyes, the lack of visuals comforting. Something you were accustomed to, something you knew you couldn’t rely on. Maybe Kurt was someone you never knew, stringing you along. Maybe he was this horrible woman all along. You couldn’t be certain, and you didn’t know if you ever could be.

For now, it didn’t appear to be in the cards for you to know anytime soon. Instead, like a lamb being led to the slaughter, you quietly await your future in the dim back of the truck; blood from your split lip dribbling and mixing with your tears.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 (WIP)

Banners by @/cafekitsune

[catscidr]

I heard you need brainrot?

Mine is that Pantalone loses his glasses. He has them on a chain but still loses them like crazy. Therefore his partner just kisses him on the nose and puts them back on his face.

Dottore bites you like a shark. Y'know, the thing they do where they bite their partner? That thingy. Also acts like a dog to get attention. Once he wants attention, you better give it to him or he will scoop you up and whisk you away to his office to do whatever he wishes with you.

YESSS WAHH pantalone spends so much money getting replacement glasses only for you to find them again a couple of days later (good thing he can buy as many as he want without making a dent in his bank account, otherwise he would be broke already. glasses aren't cheap !!)

one time he lost a pair right after buying new ones and you scolded him, saying that he had to be doing it on purpose because.... how? but after seeing the way his face contorted in genuine distress you relented, giving him extra kisses to make up for the false accusation (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

i also like to think that he subtly asks for your input when getting a new pair done!! he can't decide what kind of gemstone he wants engraved in the chain that keeps his glasses on his face? pantalone'll randomly ask you to choose between three colors and will get the matching gemstone without a second thought. the ones you helped him choose always end up being the pairs that take him the longest to lose <3

oh and clingy dottore my beloved..... it's to the point where you swear you can see a tail swishing back n forth behind him when he's in one of those moods. at this point you might as well get him a collar (but you're sure that the weirdo is going to end up liking it anyways /affectionate)

it's a good thing you live in snezhnaya with him because you can get away with wearing thick clothing that reveal only a sliver of skin. turtlenecks and dense pants make up about 80% of your wardrobe; if they didn't, you'd be rocking bite marks on your neck, hands and even legs somehow, out in the open.

but it's not like you completely hate it when he bites you, it's endearing when it isn't painful. sometimes you'll ignore him on purpose just for the attention. uno reverse card. you even bite him occasionally; the first time you did you were blessed with the sight of a befuddled, completely dumbfounded dottore. you bring it up to tease him sometimes ( ｡•̀ ᵕ •́｡ )૭ mwehehe

[bubblez-bubble]

If I could I would like to talk about the very second "nalu moment" in the series that takes place in episode 2. (The first I would like to believe is him telling her he's taking her to fairy tail.)

But this moment...

This was a major nalu moment for 2 reasons, 1 way more obvious than the other.

So let's start with the obvious.

First of all, for those who haven't made it to the grand magic games arc for any reason...

MAJOR SPOILER WARNING!

This is how Natsu remembered this moment. Which automatically gives it points for NaLu.

If you recall, towards the end of the grand magic games arc when the dragons attacked, Lucy was targeted by future rogue. Future Lucy, however, used her body as a shield and saved present Lucy's life. We then find out that the way we initially thought Natsu would remember the moment she officially joined was not how he remembered it at all, but instead remembered it as what seems to have been one of his core Lucy memories.

But I have a theory as well.

Here we can see that Lucy's favorite colors are pink and blue. However, unlike everyone else in the guild. Her outfit nor hair even once match her guild mark (with the exception of pajamas). Gray usually wears black pants to match his, erza wears a blue skirt to match hers, wendy wears blue in every outfit to match hers, and even natsu at least once wore red to match his, which if I'm being honest the color of his guild mark could have more to do with igneel seeing as his scales are red, but that's a totally different topic for another time. But lucy primarily wears blue and white. Neither of which is the color of her guild mark.

Why is this important?

As you may have guessed it has to do with my personal theory.

Does anyone remember how excited she was to show her guild mark to Natsu specifically? The moment she had it she ran to him to show him without hesitation.

I promise there's a reason for all these points.

Well my personal theory has to do with her guild mark, if that wasn't obvious already.

Again several times with everyone else in the guild we see them wear outfits to match their guild marks, but the only outfit lucy has ever matched with her guild mark was her pajamas.

So why did she choose a pink guild mark?

My theory is...

Because it matches Natsu's hair!

He was the first one she wanted to show her guild mark to.

He was the one that brought her to fairy tail.

AND he saved her from bora and his men!

To me, this was her way of showing her appreciation for Natsu.

And to me this also ties in with the "natsus core memory" bit.

Another headcanon is he remembered this because this moment touched him. He was the first person she wanted to show and her guild mark is the same color as his hair. To him, seeing her guild mark for the first time could've meant the world to him. But they just met so he couldn't let her know that.

It's just my personal little theory/head-canon. But it's still so cute none the less to think that this might be a possibility.

[pablitogavii]

we need prank wars back🙌.

maybe where reader pranks gavi and she buys a man’s cologne and sprays it all over her to see his reaction,he gets confused,jealous,angry and ending with a smut?if you are comfortable of course.💗

love you

Instead of a cologne, let's do a shirt ;)

Whose shirt is that?

You were so excited to see Pablo's reaction when he gets home and finds you in a foreign men's shirt. You saw it in Zara while you were shopping and couldn't help the prank that came to mind.

"Amor, I'm back...joder I'm exhausted princesa" he said putting his crutched to the side and slowly walking towards you on the balcony.

"Hi, mi amor" he said kissing your lips and you put the book down getting up and kissing him back lovingly.

"Wanna take a bath cariño?" you asked knowing it helps with his knee pains but he was way to concerned with what you were wearing now to answer.

"Y/n..whose shirt is that?" he said sternly and you fought off the urge to laugh shrugging your shoulders and playing innocent.

"It's probably your old one...vamos" you trie pulling him towards the bathroom but he wasn't determined to move.

"It doesn't look old...and it's not mine! So whose shirt are you wearing! Answer me!" he was getting angrier the longer I played stupid but that was sort of the plan.

"If I tell you, don't be jealous?" you say internally smirking

"My girl is only wearing some other guys shirt and you want me not to be jealous! Joder, Y/n! Whose is it!" he was running his hand through his short hair in nervousness.

"Fine, then never-mind!" you kissed his lips pulling away with a smirk but his strong arms enveloped you pulling you in so that you were facing each other.

"Whose shirt is it princesa!" he growled into your neck fighting an urge to kiss it.

"Do you like it on me?" you tease feeling his grip tighten sending shivers down your spine.

"No...I only like my shirts on your precious body because you're mine princesa" he whispered into your ear as you melted into his arms. Damn it Gavira, you were driving me crazy!!!

"We should go to bed, it's cold here Pablito" you say but he wouldn't let you go.

"We're not going anywhere until you tell me whose shirt is that" he said angrily now and you sighed turning a bit so that your arms can wrap around his shoulders.

"Hm...it's nobody's cariño. I bought it today to prank you, see it still has a tag on" you show him and he sighs in relief puling you even closer and kissing your lips lovingly.

"My little player...I'll get you back for this one" Pablo smirked kissing you again as you both moved towards the bed where he laid you down and hovered above you.

"Pablo...ugh...your knee" you remind him and he sighs laying back in frustration but you had another idea moving slowly towards him and kissing down his chiseled chest.

You slowly unbuttoned the shirt tossing it to the floor with a smirk on your face which matched his.

"Hm I'll apologize properly to you cariño..." you said moving in and kissing his lips before slowly tailing downwards while he laid back and enjoyed your ministrations.

"Hm...I might want to keep this shirt" he said and you giggled nodding your head continuing to please your man while he let his hands explore your body.

[soft-girl-musings]

Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps - CHAPTER 1 (Strangers In The Night)

Noir!Jake Lockley x WOC Lounge Singer!Reader

written in collaboration with + header by @mrs-lockley

chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5

cross-posted to ao3

tags: late 1940s Noir AU, Reader is WOC coded but with no physical description besides being slightly taller than Jake while wearing heels, no use of Y/N

wc: 2,222

fic summary: Of all the gin joints in all the world, Jake Lockley walks into yours. Unfortunately for him, it's not quite the start of a beautiful friendship.

A/N: can't believe this is the product of covid-induced hcs and thots between me and @mrs-lockley, thank you so much for encouraging this buddy (also @lunar-ghoulie if i had a nickel for each time you've sent an ask/dm about a WIP and it ended up being where i put all my energy, i'd have two nickels. which isn't a lot but it's hilarious that it's happened twice).

----------

On nights like tonight, Jake Lockley regrets his choice of profession.

It’s a dreary November evening, darkening by the second as the New York streets grow damp and cold. The wise had decided not to venture out; the blindsided rush across slick pavement to whatever shelter they can find. The desperate stay on the clock and curse their luck.

He should know by now that when a client says they’ll be “just a minute,” it’s a boldfaced lie: even if they have every intention of being efficient, he’s been stranded on the curb more times than he can count.

So he keeps the meter running. He’s seen the duds his regular client has on each week; the man could afford to fork over a few extra bucks. Might even build character.

The steady rhythm of the rain had been fine at first, but after half an hour parked beneath the neon sign of The Paper Moon– hat, coat and gloves doing nothing to ward off the chill creeping into his cab– every raindrop taunts him in his isolation.

To hell with this.

He shuts off the engine, pops his collar, and braces himself before stepping out onto the street. The rain falls fast and hard, so he rushes toward the brick exterior of The Paper Moon. He’s never been inside, but the glowing crescent of the sign had piqued his interest the first time he’d dropped his client here. He may as well see what all the fuss is about.

The doorman– a tall, dapperly dressed unit with a neutral grimace– casts a wary look his way. Jake ducks into the alley beside the building. Guess it’s exclusive.

Through the rain he spots a side door with a meagerly covered stoop, upon which is hunched a smaller, yet equally well-dressed figure. The young man’s tawny complexion pops against the emerald green of his just-too-big blazer, mist gathering in the dark brown waves slicked back from his creased brow. He grips a cigarette between clenched teeth, stuttering curses around it as he strikes a flimsy matchbook to no avail.

“¿Necesitas un fuego?”

At his offer, Jake is met by startled, impossibly wide brown eyes. The shock turns to glee as his face breaks into a toothy smile.

“Sí– sí sería genial, señor.” He makes room on the stoop, his dimpled cheeks betraying his youth. Jake pulls out a lighter and deftly lights the end of his cigarette, earning another dimpled grin after a few christening puffs. “Muchísimas gracias.” 

“No hay problema.” 

He lights one of his own, the smoke mixing with the fog of his breath as he holds out his free hand. “Jake.”

“Mauricio.” His newfound companion grips his hand and shakes vigorously. 

They sit in silence for a few moments, their subtle exhalations and the slowing rain the only sounds between them.

The mood is disrupted by shouting from the other side of the door, followed by clattering and the unmistakable sound of someone falling. The door behind them flies open and a lanky, dark skinned man in a matching green blazer pokes his head outside.

“You’d better get your tail in here, Maurie. She’s in one of her moods tonight.” 

“Rats, alright,” he groans, taking one last drag of his cigarette before stamping it out with his heel. Mauricio straightens his blazer and pushes a hand through his hair. He pauses at the door and looks back at Jake. 

“Do you wanna come inside, dry off for a spell? We put on a mean show,” he swears. The kid's face isn't one Jake imagines people say “no” to very often.

“...Yeah, alright. Thanks.”

“Great! There’s a couple of tables toward the back that should still be free, you can sneak in there no problem.” Mauricio holds the door open a bit wider for Jake to step through. “If anyone gives you any trouble, just tell ‘em you’re with me.” With a wink and another winning smile, he darts off to follow the other blazer.

Jake finds his spot easily enough, taking in the atmosphere as he weaves between tables and patrons. So this is The Paper Moon.

The building’s drab exterior is deceptive: inside is a small lounge, bustling with activity and humming with life. Richly draped walls envelop the space, with ornate lamps and soft candlelight radiating from every table. The room looks as warm as it feels, a welcome relief from Jake’s prior solitude. 

He takes off his soaked coat and loosens his tie. Across the room Jake sees his client– a cold, calculating Mr. Wesley– who gives a curt nod, as if granting his permission to take a load off (for now).

He orders a drink from a slightly bewildered waiter and continues to survey the space. People of all shapes and sizes occupy tables and barstools, with the chatter of at least three languages creating a dizzying buzz around him. The crowd dies down when stage lights flash on at the far end of the room.

Out marches the band: the guy who'd clambered to the back door sits at the piano, cracking his knuckles before playing a few notes on the keys; an older man with a similar complexion props an upright bass in position, riffing along with the scattered piano melody; an impressively mustachioed fellow polishes the mouthpiece of his trumpet; Mauricio settles in behind a set of drums, waving a stick in the air when he spots Jake.

As warm as he's gotten after coming inside, the temperature seems to skyrocket as the click of heels and the shimmer of the last band member crossing the stage sends his heartbeat right into his throat. In walks– no, floats – a vision, evening gown the same color as the richly painted lips that curl into a smile as easily as breathing. Something Jake seems to have forgotten how to do.

He can’t take his eyes off you.

----------

There’s something in the air tonight.

Maybe it’s the smoke lingering on Mauricio’s jacket (you’ve told him time and time again how smoking before a show irritates you; he must have snuck a pack backstage), or maybe the weather has you out of sorts. Whatever it is, you’re one false step away from losing your cool. Which, of course, cannot happen. Not onstage.

As the band warms up, you take one last look in your compact mirror, blot your lipstick, and take a deep breath. It’s showtime.

The moment you step onstage, you turn on the charm. Nothing can touch you up here. Not when there’s music to play, a band to lead. A night to make unforgettable.

You approach the microphone and smile. “Hello again, darlings. Did you miss us while we were away?”

Applause and cheers echo back to you from the audience. There’s a distinct two-toned whistle that rises above the noise, but you don’t think anything of it.

Not until you scan the crowd and see something– someone – that doesn’t belong.

Lounging at the previously unoccupied back table is a man you’ve never seen before. Which wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t know the face and name of everyone who enters your club.

His eyes stay trained on you as you nod to the band to begin. One outlier a bad night will not make– you’ll deal with him later. For now, you let the caress of the opening notes ease the new tension in your body, and you start to sing.

With six shows a week, one would think the routine would become tedious. Quite the opposite: any night you play the same standards with the band is bound to be a good night. The chemistry between you and your boys is perfect– even on an off night like tonight, you still manage to follow each other and make the same hour of music sound brand new.

You lead one song, then another, completely in your own world. Of course, the constant cheers and occasional audience participation don’t hurt. But just when you hit your stride and forget your troubles, that whistle rings out above the noise.

The stranger's on the edge of his seat, rapt attention never leaving the stage. Seems innocent enough, but you’re still on high alert.

The set comes to a close, ending with a vibrant flourish. The band improvises a steady beat as you take a sip of water, then smile once more into the microphone.

“Oh, stop. Really…. well, alright, you can keep going,” you croon at the crowd as they cheer louder. 

You gesture to the band. “Let’s give a big round of applause to The Jays, what do you say?”

“On piano we have the dazzling Jackie Thomas,” you call out as he trills a fancy melody a little louder than the rest. “Followed by this absolute Adonis on the bass, Benny Hayes,” you add as the smooth licks of his instrument sound out a reply.

“Let’s hear it for Leo Castellón and his magnificent mustache on the trumpet,” you tease as he blasts out a tune. “And our baby bird on drums, Mauricio Farrés!” You raise your voice as the youth bangs out a closing rhythm. 

“And as always, I’m Ms. Songbird. We hope you’ll join us again soon, my doves. Goodnight!”

The band plays themselves out as you descend downstage to the front of the room. Time for the next act.

You know how to work a crowd both on and offstage; hospitality is as much a part of the gig as the music. Tonight’s a full house, but you take your time gliding past each table, front to back. Does everyone have their preferred drink? How’s the food? Was the music to their liking? All questions you ask with genuine interest, but you know the answer: everything is perfect.

"Hey, little songbird," a voice calls above the noise.

Everything except him.

You've been avoiding the back table for a while, trying to collect your thoughts before confronting him. No time like the present, I suppose.  

You turn to see the outlier standing by the table he’d commandeered, a shimmering bundle of rhinestones dangling from his hand. The glint of a grin catches the low light the same way your traitorous earring does.

You touch your ear and your face grows hot. “Where did you–”

“Fell off as you floated by the last few tables, angel.” 

Your heels tap out a warning as you approach. Toe-to-toe, with the added height of your shoes, you practically tower over him. Your brow furrows as you size him up: too forward to have something to hide, too laissez-faire to be up to any obvious trouble. All the same, you don't trust him.

You look him up and down; he does the same. "You're not very tall, are you?" More of a challenge than a question as you reach for the rhinestones in his hand.

Leaning back against the table, jewelry dangling just out of reach, his sly smile grows. "Well, miss, I tried to be."

"Right." You snatch the earring back before he says anything else. "I see you also tried to be discreet, and that didn't go so well for you, did it Chuck?"

"Actually, it's–"

“–club policy to check your coat at the door. Something our hostess would have insisted upon, meaning you– ” you emphasize as you lean in, fingertips pressed to the tabletop by his side, "–slipped in under the wire." You search his face for anything to betray his intentions. "Now how did you manage that?”

The stranger lowers himself into his seat, hands raised in surrender. "A little backstage access, courtesy of your drummer there." He nods toward the stage: you catch a glimpse of Mauricio clumsily ducking back behind the curtain. You'll scold him later.

His gaze shifts across the room. “See that fella over there– the one who looks like it'd kill him to smile? I’m just waiting to drive him home, like I do every week.” He grins again, that same look in his eyes. A look that sets you on edge. “Just a humble cab driver, miss– nothing up my sleeves.” 

“Didn't know cabbies could be so exclusive,” you say, still eyeing him. James Wesley has been a regular for a few weeks, but you've never met his driver.

“With what he tips? Doll, I'd do damn near anything he asked.” The stranger chuckles, sipping his drink.

You know what he means: the wait staff has noted a major uptick in gratuities since Mr. Wesley has started frequenting the lounge. 

“Very well,” you offer stiffly. It all checks out, but you get the feeling there's something he's not telling you. “I hope everything is to your liking.” 

You turn to leave, but he takes your hand before you can go far.

“Oh believe me, it is… Ms. Songbird. ” A wink and a smile play on his lips as he swiftly presses them to your knuckles, letting go just as fast. You storm away before giving the satisfaction of showing how flustered you are. 

“Mr. Manalo,” you beckon a waiter as he passes. He stands at attention. You gesture to the table you’d just left, not bothering to look and see if his eyes are still on you.

“Watch out for this one, will you? I get the feeling he isn’t just here for the music.”

----------

A/N: !!!! every story i write becomes my new favorite, but Noir!Jake has carved a pretty special spot in my heart this autumn. so excited to share more of him with y'all!

as always, thank you for reading :)

addtl tag list: @fandxmslxt69 @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 5

I hope ya'll enjoy :D please comment and reblog, it really helps out (i just want that juicy feedback babyyy)

Two pristine white suits stood in the doorway. The laboratory's glaring white light bared down from behind the two men, framing them in an uneasy, uncertain shadow. Despite being indoors, the agents wore cold sunglasses, and one would be forgiven for assuming they were permanent fixtures on their heads.

"Our deepest condolences, Mr Wayne." The so-called Agent K said. Bruce Wayne noted not the slightest hint of condolence or sympathy.

He considered himself an effortlessly logical person. Someone who got what needed to be done, done. Someone who push away fear and stress in order to chip through the walls and find a path to victory in any situation.

But now, as he stared at the pile of bloody and torn clothes laid on the examination table, a DNA test on the side showing MATCH in bold letters, Bruce found himself blanking for the first time in years.

The first time since Jason...

Damian's tracker had blinked its last only hours before, and Bruce hopped on the first boat he could procure and organised a search part, recruiting the help of the local and governmental siren hunters, not that he was not still suspicious, but man power was man power, and his son was on borrowed time.

Time that had to be paid back.

"We could not find a body, sir. Your son has likely been consumed by the sirens."

No body. None. And that was not for a lack of trying. Divers had scoured the ocean floor underneath vigilant patrols. Sonars echoed across the bay and surrounding reefs. Nothing, not hide or hair or even a bone.

Bruce needed to stay calm, to stay effortlessly logical. There was no way to confirm a death just by some bloody clothes and a lack of a body. He needed to find a way, the only way.

"Thank, gentlemen. I'm gonna need a moment alone. I'll be returning to my room." The crack in "Brucie's" voice was not fake.

When Bruce got back to his hotel room, its emptiness like poison to his eyes, he beelined to his laptop. There he opened the staticky and blurry video showing the moment of disaster.

Damian was on the boardwalk, taking a moment for himself to get away from the hustle and bustle of yet another vapid party. All he wanted out of this trip was to see the fish...

An explosion rocked the boardwalk, sending splinters flying. The camera blurred into static. All that could be made out was a hand grabbing onto Damian's foot and pulling him under. The feed cut out.

Bruce played the recording again, and again, and again. Just like he had been doing all day. It was so blurry he couldn't even identify the colour of the hand.

Each time, his heart broke a little more. A tear came closer and closer to tearing its way out behind the barrier he'd put around his heart. The barrier these damn kids have wormed through over time.

Bruce dialed the phone. It answered on the first ring. "Dick, gather the family. I have some bad news..."

Danny buckled the last belt in his collection around his tail. Funny thing about belts, is that they're still useful even if you aren't wearing pants. The Fenton waterproof torch, the Fenton Stinger, Fenton Lipstick Laser among several other greatest hits slotted neatly into the loops of his belts along his tail. All he needed was a jacket and he might have a biker aesthetic to rival Johnny's.

Damian had spent the past hour or so pacing back and forth, trying to get a hang of his fins and occasionally bumping into a wall. Kid was itching to go out, and had taken to waving the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick around at imaginary enemies, despite having complained about the "inelegance of such a crude weapon."

"You will know suffering." He muttered. "I will make you beg for deliverance." He scowled.

Maybe Danny should introduce him to Sam. He feels like they'd get on like a house on fire.

Damian clung to his shoulder again, little arms wrapped around his neck for purchase as he swam out the cave. The Anti-Creep stick sat comfortably in a holster wrapped round the kid's waist with a knot Danny had to retie six times because he was so small. It was mid afternoon and the sun bathed the reef in bright colours like a warm blanket.

"We should keep an eye out for any other weapons. Our current stock is not enough."

Danny snorted. "You sound like a serial killer talking like that, you know?"

"I am more dangerous than a serial killer." Damian huffed. Danny could feel the offence radiating off him. To think that a himbo like Bruce Wayne could spawn someone with this many sticks up his ass. "And more intimidating."

"Please threaten me more. I'm shaking in my non-existent boots."

Damian growled. A deep guttural sound that rumbled his chest and tickled Danny's scales. Well, it would've been deep if Damian weren't half Danny's size.

"Where is your map and compass? How are we to get to Panama without navigation equipment?"

"Relaaax! We don't need a map because I've got a little something called celestial navigation." See Sam and Tuck? His space obsession was useful in his siren life!

The smaller siren head sank and banged on Danny's. "It is broad daylight."

Danny grinned over his shoulder. "Yeah that was a joke."

Damian screeched.

Danny laughed as he surfaced and got himself some fresh air. Calm waters for miles around them. Slowly he kicked off the swim, building up speed. "Relaaaax. It doesn't take a genius to figure out we need to go south."

"The only reason I have allowed you to live is because you are my only way home."

"As if I couldn't literally sit on you and you'd be helpless."

"I should invite you to try!"

Thousands of miles of blue ocean stretched on in every direction Damian looked. Below the two of them, the ocean floor lay deep enough that all Damian could see was a blur. Just above, the surface of the water rippling from slow winds blazes past. Phantom's strength lets them cut through the water at breakneck pace. The water rushing past his ears and fins reminds him of flying with Jon, if only much thicker than air in the upper-atmosphere.

Light from above, and unending darkness below. It was the darkness that Damian focused on. Occasionally, a tingle spread down his back and through his tail, like a warning, only for nothing to be visible underneath. The first few times, he shivered from surprise. Then it just unnerved him.

He'd read about lateral lines on sharks and other fish before, as a curiosity. Never had he imagined he would come to possess one himself, and never that it would feel so natural that it was difficult to parse it out from all his other sensations. The idea of not feeling this new sensation felt foreign, and unnerving, even though this form was the foreign one.

He would never admit this to anyone, but he didn't know much longer he could deny the creeping feeling on his neck. For all Phantom appeared friendly, Damian knew nothing of his motivations, or even his true character. If Phantom decided he didn't want anything to do with Damian, then what? With no weapons save a measly baseball bat, no contact with the outside world, no armour, no legs, no support and no knowledge of how to survive, he would be good as shark meat.

Damian tightened his grip on Phantom's neck. He was supposed to be above fear, and yet why was his heart pounding so hard?

A series of fast clicking echoed from the distance. Damian jerked his head to the left. Through squinted eyes hie made out long slender forms swimming parallel, their tails undulating up and down.

"Are those dolphins?" Damian muttered.

Phantom turned to the same sight, and raised his eyebrows. "Huh, I guess they are-" Damian jerked Phantom to their direction.

"We must approach them immediately!"

Phantom's body almost tumbled out of his normal swimming rhythm from the shock. "What? What for?"

"We must! The only reason I agreed to come to Amity Island was to see the sea creatures."

"Dude, you know dolphins can be total assho-" But Damian was having none of it. To solidify his point, he clamped his teeth into Phantom's shoulder, focusing them on the part where bone jutted out. Even if they couldn't penetrate, the blunt force against bone would be very painful.

"YOUCH Alright alright alright alright can you please stop biting me!"

Phantom rerouted their course, and Damian chittered in satisfaction. "Excellent."

The dolphins were as beautiful and majestic as he could have ever imagined. It was a small pod, comprising of about five adults, all swimming together in stunning synchrony. Phantom swam at a cautious distance, close enough to admire but too far to touch. How he longed to pet a dolphin... Even Damian slapping him with his tail could only move him an inch closer.

"Dude, I've dealt with dolphins before, and they're literally the most evil beings on the planet, right next to toast and Vlad."

Damian huffed. If only he had a camera on him. To swim alongside dolphins at top speed, out in the wild... He was pretty sure he was drooling, or would have been.

He'd just have to commit the scene to memory, and paint it when he got home.

The thought of home made his fins droop a little.

He felt a finger poking at his cheek. "Hey Damian, you ok? Fine, I'll give like two inches, but that's it."

Damian snappes teeth at him. "I am perfectly fine. Just thinking."

Before Phantom could get closer, Damian saw one member of the pod swerve right for them. Instinctively, he ducked, only for the dolphin to somersault overhead, twirling three times before 'landing' right of them. Two more of its podmates followed suit as they danced in circles around them. One of them came so close he could even catch its scent. It smelled tangy, like freedom and excitement.

Seeing dolphins performing manoeuvres at aquariums was one thing, sitting in dries seats what felt like half a world away from the water, but here? Damian felt the water stolen from right out of his gills.

And the best part was rubbing it in to Phantom. "What was that you said while disparaging these beautiful creatures?"

"Dude, don't these guys smell weird to you?" Even now he was suspicious? The dolphins smelled perfectly fine.

"Not in the slightest. I believe you are just trying to save face."

"Dude, I've seen dolphins before. Plenty of them, but none of them smelled this.. familiar."

Then again, now that Phantom mentions it, those moves seemed just a bit too disciplined for a wild animal. Just a bit too measured...

Damian's hackles spiked up. They were surrounded.

"Phantom, get us out of-"

Deafening squeals blasted from every direction. The noise was so horrible Damian could barely see. His ear fins felt like cracked glass. His field of view was getting darker. They were sinking.

Phantom moved Damian so he was flat against his chest and curled up. The boys crash landed into the barren sea floor. Pain erupted from every surface as debris and particles tore scales and broke fins. Phantom's screaming mixed into the water with teal blood. He held onto Damian like a vice the entire time.

They finally came to a stop. Damian's head spun and spun and his ears rang. He dimly noted the criss-crossing ropes of a fishing net entrapping them. Above him, the blasted dolphins loomed over them in circles like they were sharks, and in the centre floated a man in a large metal suit, a metal suit sporting a malicious, leopardlike grin, a grin that for a moment he could not place, until his mind cleared.

That was the last thing he ever had ever seen as a human.

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Trick or Treat - Miguel O'Hara

A/N: Happy Halloween! Here's a little Miguel blurb for ya!

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara Word Count: 1k Synopsis: Halloween is not Miguel's favorite holiday.

"What are you wearing?"

"What does it look like I'm wearing?" you ask.

"Cat ears," he says dryly. You turn to smile at him and he jumps back. "And whiskers."

"Well, no one can say you're not observant, Miguel."

"What's the occasion?"

"Is that a joke?"

"I don't joke."

You walk over to him, recognize his tired face, the slump of his shoulders, and put your arms around him. "Long day?"

"You could say that," he says with a sigh. You give him a soft smile and he leans in to kiss you.

"I'm sorry, my love. And the occasion, is Halloween."

"Ah, how could I forget?"

"Don't pretend like you didn't notice a million little spider-kids on your way home."

"The real question is why are you dressed up."

"Didn't I already say this, it's Halloween." Miguel rolls his eyes at you and breaks out of your arms.

"You going to a party tonight?"

"No, I know you wouldn't want to do that." You follow him down the hall to your bedroom and watch as he undresses. "I just thought it might be fun to hand out candy and have a cozy night in."

"I like the cozy night in part," he says, snaking an arm around you, his bare chest warm against you.

"I figured I could convince you on that part," you say, kissing him. He hums deeply and suddenly you're falling back onto your bed, Miguel on top of you. "We could just stay here and I could find out if there's a tail to match this little outfit."

"Miguel," you say in a breath, squirming out of his touch as his hand travels down your backside. You roll out of bed and straighten your ears as you stand.

"Come back, baby."

"I can't," you tease, walking towards the door slowly.

"Come back," he says again, deeper. You open your mouth to respond just as the doorbell rings.

"Hold that thought," you say and rush towards the door. A pumpkin and a scarecrow are at your door and both happily take candy.

Miguel is behind you when you shut the door and turn around. He's frowning at you, and you notice that his shirt is still off.

"Don't you think it's a little chilly for that," you say, touching his muscular chest.

"Don't you think you could just leave that bowl at the door?"

"But then I would miss all of the cute kiddos."

"I don't care." He kisses you again, taking your chin in one hand and the bowl in the other. You are pressed against the wall, Miguel's muscular body against you. You could have stayed like that if you didn't notice the hand holding the bowl stretching towards the door.

"We are not leaving it at the door," you say, breaking away from his lips. "Now, why don't we find you a shirt and something spooky to watch."

Miguel sighs, a long suffering sigh, but follows you into the living room. You watch as he takes in the scene in the living room - three blankets over your couch: one with pumpkins, one with colorful ghosts, and one with some Halloween cats.

"I had to set the mood!"

"And set it you did," he says. Again, he is next to you, wrapping an arm around you. You kiss him softly and again, the doorbell rings. With a laugh you walk away from your growingly frustrated boyfriend and open the door to a few more trick or treaters.

"You missed three princesses," you say when you come back. Miguel has chosen a movie - one with a zombie bride in it - and you settle onto the couch next to him.

"Sorry I missed that," he says dryly. You come around the couch and rest in his arms.

"What's with you and Halloween?" you ask, looking up at him.

"I don't have a thing with Halloween," he says, "I just want to spend time with you."

"You are spending time with me."

"Not if you jump up every few seconds when the doorbell rings."

"You must have had a really shitty day," you observe. "I mean you can be negative, but I have not seen you this negative in a long time."

He kisses your forehead softly before taking a deep breath.

"Halloween . . . Halloween was Gabriella's favorite holiday. It was kind of our thing," he says. You sit up quickly and turn to face him.

"You should have told me that," you say, gently pushing his shoulder. "I wouldn't have--"

"You haven't done a single thing wrong. I should have told you. It's just . . . hard. It sucks."

"It does." You lean in to kiss his cheek. "I'm sorry."

"Don't--"

"I am, and I love you."

"I love you."

You are not apart from him for long. His arm wraps around your waist and you're back in his arms, falling back on the couch. Sounds of the zombie bride fade into the background as your lips lock. His hands are rough as they graze your skin. You are just leaning into his body, breaking for air when the doorbell rings again.

"Son of a--"

You giggle as you get off the couch and bring candy to a cute little girl dressed as a cat. When you turn around, Miguel is there again. After sharing what he did, the weight on his shoulders seems to have lifted, but he seemed even more annoyed, this time around.

"We need to put the bowl outside?"

"We need to put it outside," he agrees.

You open the door and place it on the porch, and before you have even closed the door, Miguel is pulling you into his arms. You hear a splat and see a small web over your door handle.

"No more trick or treaters," he says, kissing you.

"No more," you say with a giggle as he wraps you into his arms and leads you back to the couch.

"Happy Halloween, my love," he says, hovering over you as he drops you onto the couch.

"Happy Halloween."