#my writting

[mjsprettybrowneyes]

More on the idea of Sub! Mature era Michael tho because it's such a peak concept.

like a younger mike being a sub is cute and all because it makes sense, He’s young and inexperienced and so terribly shy, so its only natural that he’d let you take the reins. But Mature era Michael is well.. Mature lol.

He’s controlling and mouthy and downright bratty. He’s grown into himself, and age has made him more particular. more assured and assertive. Maybe even a little (a lot) spoiled. He knows just what to say to get exactly what he wants. Knows just how far he can push until you finally give him that look. That silent warning that says keep on and see what happens.

It’s the challenge of it that gets him off. Mouthing off to you in the car on the way home from an award show, Maybe it’s because you didn’t pay enough attention to him during the show, Maybe he caught you staring too long at another musician, or maybe theres no real reason for it other than he decided he needed your attention and this is his way of demanding it.

Tormenting and teasing you the entire drive home until you hit your breaking point and he ends up face down in the mattress at the end of the night, mascara ruining the clean white sheet because he’d pissed you off just enough for you to give him a much needed reminder of who’s in charge.

His loud moans and whimpers filling the hotel room as you thrust into him, gripping both wrists tight behind his back, chanting “I know baby, I know,” like a promise, fully intending on giving him what he needs, just on your terms.

[polnich]

Hiiii, their haas been no Toshiro fanfics in "yearsss", so i have another request pretty please :D

can we do something with forced cuddles, with Toshiro, and Byakuya please, do want you want with anything else, your the best Poinich

:D

Forced cuddles with Captains (separate)

Characters: Tōshirō Hitsugaya, Byakuya Kuchiki, Shunsui Kyōraku, Mayuri Kurotsuchi, Reader

Warnings: N/A

A/N: Aw, you're too kind ♡(˃͈ ˂͈ ). Surprise add-ons of Shunsui and Mayuri because I got very clear ideas for them with this prompt. Feels nice doing headcannons again. Probably could higlighted the forced part more, ah oh well. :P

Tōshirō Hitsugaya (Post TBYW)

-For someone who appears as stoic and Indifferent most of the time, his persona will shatter the second he realized what going on.

-The flushed reaction.

-“W-what are you doing?”

-Stand there awkwardly as his face get all red at the unexpected affection.

-After a while, he gives in to the affection and hugs you back.

-For cuddling position, he tries to take the big spoon position but will probably end up in the little spoon instead.

-Though don't expect the cuddling to last long as after a while he is going to try to get out. To how successful that will be is fully up to you.

-Would be the one to do it if he was in a terrible mood or something went wrong.

-He more quiet than normal but through how he's clinging to you, it clear he needs this.

-Cuddling last longer when he is the one taking the lead to initiate it. He not the biggest fan of physical touch so this is huge for him.

-Likes cuddling spots where others can't see what the two of you are up to. As he gets easily embarrassed if someone see him doing this. -Naturally cuddling into him would feel cold but the longer the forced cuddling last the warm his body will become.

Byakuya Kuchiki

-Forced cuddling this man can be surprisingly easy to pull off. Since his wife died, he has been lacking the physical touch of another. A part of him forgets how blissful it could be.

-Though, if you began cuddling him when he was doing work, he will be annoyed for a moment before accepting your affection.

-The I guess I'm doing this now reaction.

-It pretty hard to read him if he is enjoying the affection, as he behaves as his aloof self. But there be a soft smile on his lips.

-Is very flexible when coming to position he doesn't mind being the little or big which every one works best for you.

-“Hm? Is this what you're needing of me, very well, I guess I can give into your wants.”

-If you wish to keep him longer, drag your fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes and lend into your touch if you do so.

-Usually takes the lead when in bed, or if he hasn't seen you for a long time.

-Taking the lead, he warps his arms around your waist, pulling you close before placing a kiss on your forehead. Keeping you trapped against his form.

-He is also another one who prefers to cuddle in a private location.

-Giving him kisses when you cuddle will make his heart flutter. Overall, a very gentle and warm cuddler.

Shunsui Kyōraku

-Number one way to get this man's attention. Whatever he was doing before is long forgotten, all his attention is now on you.

-The smitten reaction.

-Cuddling position he prefers being the big spoon just so he can warp his arms around your form and basically give you a bear hug.

-Naturally, a very warm soul being up against him would basically be like a heater.

-“Here I thought I was the needy one, but if it for you, I’ll happily give all my affection to you~”

-but if he is doing it, he is basically jumping you into cuddling with him. Giving, Oh boy smooshing time vibes.

-It 100% times worse when he is drunk, this man physically needs your form against his. Will even cry if you tell him no in this state.

-Good luck escaping cuddling him once it started. You're there until he falls asleep or more likely he called away.

-Though, if you give him some kisses in this state, he is basically putty in your hands.

-He doesn't have a far spot to cuddle because he is honestly down to cuddle everywhere. Be it in a field or on a rooftop.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi

-The ignore it reaction.

-He goes back to working on whatever he was doing as you cuddle into his form. It may be forced cuddling, but he's not going to be reacting that much to it.

-After a while, he'll drag his long nail over your back. Tapping against your spine, mumbling about his current project.

-“You're awfully clinging today… try not to touch my work, Alright?”

-Despite everything about him, he does enjoy your physical affection. Though, nobody will believe you because it is him you're cuddling against.

-Try your best to keep your face away from his as you cuddle though. As, doing so may get some of his abstract makeup to rub off onto you.

-In cuddling position, he prefers being the little spoon. Mainly because it lets him study your form better when your warp around his.

-If he would take the lead to force you into cuddling, which one would be extremely rare. He is doing it because he wants something from you.

-He knows you enjoy this type of affection so he uses it to get what he after. Be it a favour from you or needing to test something on you.

-Likes cuddling in his lab as it already a place most normally don't willingly go.

~♡~ Masterlist

[theonlyonesora]

CH 01. Before You Noticed Me

Kimi Antonelli x Reader

The year had barely begun, and already it felt like it was trying to kill her.

The notification on her phone informed her that she was twelve minutes away from the private terminal.

Twelve.

Minutes.

[Y/N] groaned and leaned her head back against the seat.

Perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

The Uber driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror. "Running late?"

"No," she deadpanned. "I'm just practicing sprint training."

The woman laughed while [Y/N] rubbed her eyes. Normally, she was never late.

Never.

Years of working in Formula One had drilled punctuality into her soul. If a meeting started at eight, she arrived at seven forty-five, if a flight departed at ten, she was there before nine.

Today, however, the universe had decided to remind her that it hated her.

She had overslept, not by much.

Just enough.

Enough to create a chain reaction of disasters. The truth was she hadn't been sleeping well for weeks. The car wasn't where they wanted it to be.

The simulations weren't matching expectations and the balance wasn't consistent.

Everyone was pretending not to panic.

Which, in Formula One terms, meant everyone was definitely panicking.

And then there was GP.

Her chest tightened immediately.

She stared out the window.

A few months ago, if someone had told her that Gianpiero Lambiase would leave Red Bull, she would have laughed in their face.

Yet here they were.

GP was leaving.

Moving to McLaren.

The words still felt strange. Wrong. For years, it had been the three of them.

GP, Max and her. The trio.

Race weekends, strategy meetings, flights, celebrations, arguments.

A constant and now one piece of that puzzle was gone. She should have been happy.

GP had personally pushed for her promotion.

He had insisted she take his position.

He believed she was ready and she was grateful, God, she was grateful.

But that didn't stop her from feeling like someone had removed a support beam from her life.

The team was changing.

Too much. Too fast.

Engineers she had worked with for years had left. Friends had accepted offers elsewhere.

Departments were being restructured.

Everything felt uncertain.

For the first time since joining Red Bull, she found herself wondering whether she still had a future there or if maybe—Maybe it was time to start considering other options.

The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Because she loved this team.

She loved the chaos.

The pressure.

The impossible standards.

She loved walking into the garage every morning but loyalty only carried you so far in Formula One.

Eventually everyone had to make choices.

The car slowed.

"We're here."

[Y/N] blinked.

The airport.

She had been so lost in her thoughts she hadn't even noticed the drive. "Thank you."

She quickly grabbed her backpack.

"Good luck." The driver smiled. "You look like you need it."

[Y/N] snorted. "That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me today."

A few moments later she was power walking through the terminal.

Not running, definitely not running.

Formula One engineers did not run through airports. They moved with urgency, there was a difference. At least that was what she told herself as she nearly collided with a luggage cart.

The private jet stood waiting on the tarmac.

Large.

Black.

Intimidating and undoubtedly filled with people judging her.

Wonderful.

She climbed the stairs two at a time.

The flight attendant greeted her politely, [Y/N] offered an apologetic smile before stepping inside.

The cabin fell suspiciously silent.

Oh no.

That was never a good sign.

Several familiar faces looked up.

Some amused.

Some exhausted.

Some already wearing noise-cancelling headphones and then there was Max Verstappen.

Sitting near the middle of the cabin.

Arms crossed.

Expression flat.

The look of a man who had been inconvenienced.

Dangerous.

Very dangerous.

[Y/N] stopped, Max stared and she stared back. Neither spoke, a few seconds passed.

Then five.

Then ten.

The entire cabin watched.

Finally she raised a hand. "Good morning."

Max blinked. "Is it?"

A few people immediately looked away to hide smiles.

[Y/N] sighed. "There was traffic."

"You live twenty minutes from the airport."

"There was a lot of traffic."

Max's eyes narrowed. "There wasn't."

"You don't know that."

"I checked."

Of course he had, she should have known. "You checked traffic conditions?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you were late."

The answer was so immediate that several people laughed.

[Y/N] pointed at him. "See? This is why your therapist has job security."

A snort escaped from somewhere behind them.

Max rolled his eyes. "Sit down."

"That sounded suspiciously like concern."

"It wasn't."

"Sure."

"It wasn't."

She dropped into the seat beside him anyway. The jet door closed shortly afterward.

For a few moments neither spoke.

The playful tension faded and the reality settled back in.

Australia.

First race of the season.

New responsibilities.

New expectations.

Without the certainty she had grown accustomed to.

Max glanced toward her, and his expression softened slightly. Only slightly.

The Verstappen equivalent of a warm hug.

"Tired?"

[Y/N] looked out the window. "Yeah."

He nodded.

No jokes.

No teasing.

Just understanding, because he knew exactly why. After a moment he nudged her shoulder.

"You'll be fine."

Simple words.

Yet somehow they loosened the knot in her chest.

Maybe because they came from someone who knew exactly how much everything had changed. Maybe because he was feeling it too.

The engines began to roar outside.

Australia awaited.

A new season.

A new role.

A new chapter she wasn't entirely sure she was ready for.

As the jet started moving, [Y/N] leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes.

Borders From: @kodaswrld

[krazycat6167]

Say No

(written for @keferon’s Apocalyptic Ponyo AU. A bit of Jazz and Prowl set after most of the events of the au. Enjoy!)

-.-.-.-

Prowl watches from the sidelines as Jazz goes through yet another interview. He can’t shake the feeling that there is something off with Jazz. That there is something that isn’t right. 

Oh sure, Jazz looks happy, but Prowl doesn’t trust it. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t trust it though, so he’s scrutinizing Jazz and his behavior to try and figure it out. 

The other orca mer is smiling, talking as animated as he usually does (though notably trying to be polite by staying in one general area), using his hands as he speaks. Those are normal Jazz things to do, even if he seems a bit…more Jazz-y? He’s using a bit more inflection, slightly more exaggerated movements, a smidge extra charm behind the smile. The effect is entertaining, sure, but-.

But…he is…being entertaining. He is here, in an interview, answering questions both benign and personal, and he is putting on a show. 

Prowl’s gaze flicks around the room. Multiple cameras, stage lights, a dazzled audience. 

The interviewer, masterfully directing Jazz through the narrative with light and heavy topics and making sure to end on a high note. 

Jazz, big movements, big personality, put on display like a thing to be marveled at. 

A large grin that had been bothering Prowl the whole time because it is wrong. And now he knows it’s because it is fake. 

When the interview ends and Jazz swims offstage, Prowl takes his arm and leads him away. Away from the crowds, the lights, the cameras. Just away. From everything. Anyone who even thinks of approaching the two as they leave take one look at Prowl's hard expression and become too scared to even try. 

“While I enjoy swimming with you,” Jazz says when they are properly away from everyone, “is there a reason we left so quick?”

“You were uncomfortable.” Prowl answers. 

“Is that so?” Jazz says, amused. 

Prowl stops and turns to Jazz, stopping the other mer cold with a hard stare. “Yes, you were. You were putting on a show like it was still an obligation you owed for living somewhere when in reality you don’t owe anyone anything of yourself that you don’t want to give.”

The fact that Jazz looks shocked by this makes Prowl’s heart clench painfully. 

Prowl takes both of Jazz’s large hands in his. “I’m sorry,” he says while giving his hands a reassuring squeeze, “that I didn’t see it sooner. You did so many interviews and I didn’t see how similar they were to that tank until now.”

“Wha- hey, no,” Jazz brings their hands closer to his chest. “don’t apologize for this when it wasn’t even your fault. They asked to hear my story and-“

“And you could’ve told them no.” Prowl interrupts. “You don’t have to do these things anymore. You can say no. You can leave off you want. You aren’t confined to a small space anymore with no escape and no privacy. You can say no.”

“I- I can say no.” Jazz whispers like it’s revelation straight from the vents below. “I can leave.”

“You don’t have to do things you don’t want.”

Jazz floats there, clutching Prowls hands to his chest like they’re a lifeline, as his gaze drifts down in thought. “What I want…”

Slowly, Jazz looks up at Prowl. “I want you to show me that Crystal Reef you were talking about.”

Prowl smiles. “This way then.”

-.-.-.-

Two of the things Jazz loves about Mer society are the pouches that he can carry stuff—his stuff—in and the phones. After years of seeing humans use them (filming him, taking pictures of him), he now has one of his very own. An underwater phone, a fish phone, a fone (“It’s funny Prowler, trust me.”). It’s awesome!

Not very awesome right this second though. 

It’s vibrating, meaning someone is calling him. The screen only shows a frequency instead of a name, meaning it’s someone he doesn’t know. 

He sees Prowl look at him curiously from where he’s been sunbathing next to him as Jazz answers.

“Hello?”

“Hello! I am Undertow, a reporter with The Tuning Trident. Is this Jazz?”

Jazz sits up. “Yeah, I’m Jazz.”

“Excellent!” Undertow says, chipper. “We have been working on an article covering your story and the trials you went through. We here at The Tuning Trident are dedicated to bringing our readers the most accurate information that we can provide and we were wondering if you could come over sometime within the next few days to answer a few questions we have about your experience.”

Jazz freezes. He…doesn’t really want to talk about it with reporters anymore. He’ll just have to politely turn them down. 

Jazz opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. His throat is suddenly dry. He swallows his trepidation and tries again. “Uh…”

Is that it? Is that all he can bring himself to say that isn’t a fake and enthusiastic agreement?

The reporter on the phone starts talking again. “Of course, if coming in is an inconvenience, we can have a small team come to you to conduct the interview. We are very flexible here, so whatever may be best for you, we can certainly work with!”

That was even worse! He didn’t want nosy strangers coming to his favorite spots!

But he still can’t say no. 

His gaze flicks to Prowl, desperately and silently pleading for help. 

Prowl sits up and holds his hand open to Jazz. Jazz gives him the phone. 

“I regret to inform you,” Prowl says with no regret or remorse, “that Jazz won’t be doing any interviews for the time being.”

“It’ll just be a quick thing.” Undertow promises in a small tinny voice that Jazz can still hear. “Only a couple of questions to clarify a few facts.”

“No.”

“I- but- who is this? Who are you to speak for Jazz?”

“His manager.” Prowl's tone turns cold. “He is not available for an interview at this time.”

“Why not?”

“Jazz has his reasons and he doesn’t owe them to you. Good day.”

“Wait, if you could just tell us-“

“No.” Prowl hangs up. “The nerve of some Mer, it’s like they forgot that you're an apex- urk!”

Jazz hugs him, eyes shut tight, tucking his head into Prowl’s shoulder, and squeezes. “Thank you.” He whispers, voice wobbly. 

Prowl returns the hug, using one hand to cradle Jazz’s head. “Of course. You deserve some peace.”

“I tried.” Jazz says to Prowl’s shoulder. “I wanted to say no. I tried but I couldn’t. I couldn’t get that one word out and I tried.”

“I know.” Prowl pats Jazz’s head through his beanie. “It’s okay. You keep trying. And until you are able, I can say no for you whenever you need.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

[eternalstarlitwonderland]

ACT. STARLIGHT

The stage is lit, and the actors breathe the air of their roles

The scene is arranged, all is prepared, the players are assembled, and they are in position

The actors are awaiting their cue and are in place; the script is written, and the light is cast

Let's start the celestial drama

Starlight brilliantly descends, fluttering refulgently

Nightfall boldly struck, making its presence known

Softly gracing the Milky Way's glow

A curious and yet very mischievous girl emerged, a queenly presence, tall and fair, whose name was Peyton

A rare and vibrant beauty, as unique as her Monegasque heritage, delicately graced the Starfall's soft embrace

Her skin, a milky lightness, perfectly contrasted with the Riviera's velvet shimmer

Her hair, a cascade of Monegasque flame, brilliantly rivaling the Riviera's own sunset

Her eyes, a pair of piercing, luminous sapphires, dutifully complement the Riviera's chromatic starscape

She waited for her cue, a brilliant wink of the stars, to enter the stage

She closed her eyes and absorbed the celestial vault and its effulgence

Suddenly, her body began to resonate brilliantly and ascended

Her silky, claret strands delicately illuminate, softly swaying in the nightly zephyr, and her deep and piercing cerulean spheres start to become softened

The soft effulgence ethereally stripped her bare, leaving her at the celestial mercy

The starlight sublimely formed a velvety burgundy ribbon, dreamily wrapping around her milky essence

Suddenly, her body began to move like a ballerina

Elegantly cascading the jeweled nightscape, her footsteps softly gleam

She executes an excellent arabesque and, with each pirouette, elegantly twirls

She transitions to a relevé, spins delicately

And then another graceful transition to an allégro, leaps gracefully

The conclusion of her astral ballet, with a lambency wink

She flutteringly descended, her dress dreamily billowing in the nightly zephyr

She landed gracefully, and the starlight softly glowed

The soft brilliance gave her a subtle nod as her cue to begin, and she graciously took her role as a velveteen heroine

She lovingly cascaded beneath the starlit glint, the delightful sounds of her silvery heels clicking, lighting up every step

Happily humming a melody that matches her mood, singing with eloquence

The darkness is suddenly shrouding the stars, choking the lights out of them

Suddenly, a dozen shadowy forms of duplicates emerge from thin air

They smiled sinisterly at her from the shadows, and the laughter echoed ominously throughout

She stood there frozen, surrounded by the phantasmal figures, and then, right on cue, the starlight rapier resonated brilliantly

She's determined, and possesses a light of her own, shining ethereally, even if it is within, emanates delicately

She willfully steps into a velveteen stage, where light and darkness meet in this never-ending theater

The stars bless her performance, gracefully dancing upon the velveteen, and capture the starlight

With a sharp click, a chink chime breaks the silence

From a galactic bloom, a spark ignites, and a new beginning has effloresced

[lotusloong]

Small drabble of MKR Wukong and consensual Predator/Prey kink with female Reader - written in a midnight fever

“Better run as fast as you can, little peach.” Those were the words he spoke to you, beautiful eyes narrowed as he watched your every movement like a predator on the hunt. His lithe form had been coiled up tight with tension, ready to pounce on you in moments. His tail lashing behind him, bare feet clenching and unclenching the stone he crouched on, small fissures forming under the strength of his grip. Your breathing had immediately picked up; anticipation, heat, and a sprinkle of fear mixing into a potent cocktail in your veins, urging you to do as he said. 

He had snarled low in his throat, a rumble that reminded you this was a yaoguai, the Great Sage, Wrecker of the Celestial Palace.

You had been off like an arrow loosened from a taut bow, fleeing through the underbrush like your life depended on it. You could have sworn you heard Wujing yell something after you, but you had been too far and too distracted to really listen.

And now you found yourself in an unfamiliar forest, lungs burning for air, legs aching from muscle fatigue and various cuts from a patch of bramble you ran through. Your robes are loose and barely hanging off your shoulders, sweat coating every inch of you. You spin around in a circle, listening and watching for any hints that he was gaining on you. 

You know in your heart that you can't get away from him, he's probably hiding among the trees and staring at you right now, but you don't intend to give in. He told you to run, you're going to run. Picking a direction you haven't yet, you dart away again, uncaring of the noise you make. If he's watching you already then trying to keep quiet isn't going to help you, but if he's giving you a head start he'll simply follow your scent through the undergrowth and track you down regardless. 

You can't wait. 

The adrenaline racing through you is laced with lust, your core burning with the desire to be filled. Your pussy spasms and clenches on nothing, your underwear already soaked through with slick. Ideas race through your mind of what he'll do when he catches you, his hands pushing and pulling you into place without care as he takes what he wants-

You hear a chittering laugh high above you. You glance over your shoulder even as you keep running only to see Wukong jumping in the trees. His pace is even and measured as he keeps up with you, looking almost bored while you feel like your legs are about to give out. 

With a surprised ‘oof’ you run right into something solid, and you pull back and look up to see Wukong’s smug grin, teeth on full display. You look behind you to see him still in the trees as well, and realize too late that one of them is a clone. Hands reach up to grip your hips, but you wiggle away as fast as you can, spinning on your heel and rushing away once more. His laughter trails behind you, self-assured and confident. 

“You really think you can outrun me? You're so adorable.” You don't look back at him this time, focusing on the wild path in front of you. “I can smell you peach, I could smell that wet cunt from a mile away.”

You blush hard at his words, swallowing your whimpers and pushing through the arousal consuming you. If you can just make it past this next tree you could-

A sudden weight crashes on top of you, pushing you to the ground and knocking the breath from your lungs. Panicked, you push yourself up, clawing at the dirt under you and pulling yourself further. Wukong's laughter echoes around you, his hands pushing you down by your shoulders and his hips sitting perfectly in the small of your back. You squirm and wiggle, desperately trying to throw him off. Feet digging into the ground, bucking your hips into the air, you keep trying to crawl away. He follows your motions, moving back to sit on the meat of your thighs, pinning them below his own weight.

Wukong grabs at the sash around your waist, your struggling making it easier for him to tug the fabric below the curve of your ass, exposing yourself to him. You don't stop moving, even with the feeling of his hard cock pressing against you through his pants.

“Come on-” He hisses, and you know without looking that he's grinning down at you. The hands on your shoulders push you down again before moving up to your scrambling hands, pinning them by the wrist into the dirt. Blood rushes in your ears as you squeal, kicking at him while your pussy spasms with need. He takes one hand off your wrists, and you hear the rustling of fabric as he pushes his pants down, his cock out and leaking precum above you. 

Fuck, you're ready for it, your pussy is completely soaked at the thought of him taking you, right here on the forest floor. His tail wraps tight around your left ankle, his free hand lining up his cock with your entrance and pushing into your slick heat with a growl.

“Fuck yes, there we go-...take it all, such a greedy pussy-” Your jaw drops open in a silent cry as he pushes further into you, your hips pushing back against him as bliss floods you. The hand still pinning your wrists moves, joining the other at the small of your back as Wukong holds himself above you, mounting you from behind and pinning your trembling form with his own weight. You have no chance of escaping now.

You don't want to, you don't even consider crying out for him to stop. Instead, you keen desperately into the grass your cheek is pressed against as pleasure sparks up your spine. His hips pull back from you with a wet sound only to slam back in with a sharp jerk that pushes you forward against the ground. His pace is rough, a biting force that makes your hips ache and the beginnings of bruises appear over your skin. 

“Good-...good girl. Take cock–so fucking good-” Wukong snarls, burying his face into the juncture of your neck. He takes a deep breath, a contrast to the powerful thrusts of his hips as he takes his pleasure from you with no mercy. The angle has the ground digging into your tummy, but you don't care, not when his cock is hitting your g-spot head on and making you see stars with every thrust of his hips. 

Your slick is leaking all over his inner thighs, the fur wet and sticky. Wukong doesn't seem to care, grinding his hips against yours in little circles before sliding away and continuing his punishing pace. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, his name leaving your lips like a mantra just for him. 

“Pl-please-!” You whimper, voice thick with lust as your body is used. 

“Tight! So f-fuck–ing tight!” The heat pooling in your belly is too much, it's too overwhelming, he's going to break you-

You scream your pleasure, back arching and hips grinding desperately against his cock as your orgasm washes over you with no warning. Your toes curl and you shudder hard under his warm hands, his thrusts slowing to a deep, hard grind that draws your orgasm out. You can hear him muttering to himself above you. 

“That's it sweet peach, let it out…f-fuck, keep squeezing me…” You have no choice but to obey, your pussy fluttering and drowning his cock in slick. It's enough for him, and you gasp as liquid heat floods your gummy walls, Wukong's cum is hot and thick and leaves your womb feeling full.

You whine and press your forehead to the ground below you, biting your lower lip as you come down from your high. You can hear Wukong shuddering above you, his choked gasps of pleasure adding to your own as you feel him twitch inside you. 

He slumps over your submissive form, pressing kisses against the column of your neck and behind the shell of your ear. You sigh in bliss at the feeling, angling your head to let him do as he pleases. He nips the shell of your ear, his next words coming out ragged and breathy. 

“Take a few minutes to breathe, little peach. We're just getting started…”

[koro-gunso8]

Snippet from Little Red Wolf AU (HeroMari)

They say there’s a wolf in these woods. No one has seen it definitely, but she could always feel it. It stalks the edges of the woods, always just out of sight from the winding paths. Whenever she wheeled her brother outside for fresh air, they both could smell the distant odor of decay and feel nature itself holding its breath. There have been fewer squirrels and birds, and pets have been disappearing. The hunters who seek it go missing. Nosy tourists leave only bones. Some even talk of narrow encounters, feeling and oppressive presence until they find themselves out of that section of the woods– always stalked, never chased. 

Mari lives near those winding woods. The twisted trees stand together as a daunting labyrinth between her home, where she and her brother had lived, and the town with all of their friends, food, and medicine. In other words, not braving the woods wasn’t an option. Leaving was equally as unthinkable. Though she can’t remember the last time she saw Mewo, her precious black cat, she hoped she had found herself a new family in a new town away from those woods. 

Right now, Mari sits beneath a tree in a meadow of beautiful flowers painted in a myriad of colors. It’s her sacred place, the field where she and Sunny once ran wild like the kids they were. And yet, a presence looms over the clearing, for the second time today— right beyond the elder tree at her back. Miles away from that wolf’s territory, she had no idea why something would stray so far from home just to watch her. Or, better yet, likely make a meal out of her. It truly didn’t seem worth the effort.

Still, she nibbles the sandwich she’d packed for her trip. Luckily, the sun was still high in the sky even after traveling to town in the early morning, so she could mostly enjoy her break before she returned home. There’s plenty of time to outsmart the pesky wolf without inadvertently leading it back home to her brother. 

Pretending he wasn’t there, then luring him into the false safety of her picnic blanket was easy, in theory, but even her patience was wearing thin. 

“Hellooo?” She coos to the tree behind her. “Might you be the cute little wolf that lives here in these woods?” 

There’s a gasp behind the tree— a jolt as a long tail swishes out into view before the rest of the man fully reveals himself. Simple pants with suspenders, a button-up notably left mostly unbuttoned, and a blue collar fastened around his neck.  

Interesting fashion choice, but okay, hopefully the collar wouldn’t make slitting his throat any harder. Oh yes, and of course— on the top of his ears are two pointer ears with rounded tips and a long brown tail at his back. 

“No…” he replies, sweating.  

“But you’ve got a tail and such adorable ears on the top of your head!” 

“I-it’s a… Costume.” Ironically, both ears twitch when he says so. Mari’s eyes narrow; the wolves' soft brown eyes, even from here, seemed most dubious. 

“It’s a bit irresponsible to dress up like that, isn’t it? Most people would shoot you on sight if they saw you wandering around like that!” She warns with puffed out cheeks. 

“I suppose… it isn’t the nicest prank, considering the rumors… haha… Sorry if I scared you.”  His meek rebuttal flows freely from his lip as he inches towards the picnic blanket. Though he makes no immediate eye contact, the moment she moves towards the blade in her picnic basket or the bear spray in her dress pocket would stop him in his tracks. His eyes sharply lock onto her face until she returns her hands to her lap. 

Therefore, she stays frozen stiff even as he stands just an arm's length away. She daringly follows his gaze downwards to the picnic blanket. There’s nothing there but the plate of cookies and an empty spot conveniently open for— 

Ah… no wonder he strayed so far from his territory. The glutton. 

“You may sit if you like.” And he does so with surprising obedience— politely on his knees with his hands balled into fists on his lap. She grabs a cookie off her plate and takes a bite before offering to the wolf. At first, he shies away from her hand, but she holds it out nonetheless, silently enticing him. A few seconds pass, and some of the tension eases from his shoulders as he takes a tentative bite.  

As much as she loathed having her hands so close to the wolf’s fangs, having the beast eat from the palm of her hands fed a hunger in the catacombs of her mind.

“See?” She chimes, “No poison!”

The wolf chokes. 

He makes no effort to explain himself or his actions. Never explains why he followed her; doesn’t even try to justify himself. Even as she continues to feed him cookies, luring him closer and closer to her side until she doesn't even have to reach out anymore, her prying questions are only met with a disarming smile and insistence that he was indeed wearing a costume. 

Yet his tail continued to swish behind him… she would’ve pulled it to prove a point, but the claws concealed in his balled up hands served as plenty of warning not to push it. 

Still, it wouldn’t stop her from leaning in closer until her hands rested on the collar around his neck and then his bare chest. 

He jolts once again, and opens his mouth to speak, to protest, to eat her— she simply shoves another cookie into his ungrateful mouth. She continues her ministrations until his shirt is fully buttoned up and his tanned skin is a bright reddened orange. 

“What a good little wolf you are…” 

“Well-! I-I— uh…” That seems to have finally short-circuited him as the poor man could no longer even form words, let alone kill her, she hoped. 

“You were just hungry, weren’t you?”

He splutters again and simply ends up nodding. Heat radiates off him. Once Mari lays her head on his chest, she could see why. His heart flutters with surprising speed, so much so she could hear the gushing of blood in his veins. 

She wondered if the flustered wolf could hear hers too. The hunters in town always spouted nonsense about monsters and beasts smelling fear. That you were dead the moment a predator sensed any pity or trepidation. Therefore, she tamed her shuddering body as he finally rests his hands on her arms. There’s a bit of hesitance, his hands shake before grabbing her firmly and holding her even closer.

He’s so close enough now. A finger pulls down her hood and exposes her dark locks arranged into a neat, uneven bob. All she had to do was reach behind her into her basket and— 

His eyes sharpen again, his head snapping to her hand stalled out into the air as his ears flatten backwards. Shaking, she continued to reach towards her basket, towards the knife inside. Hopefully the smell of cookies and bread covered up the salty scent of her sweat and the metallic knife. Slash his throat, stab his chest then be rid of him. 

Please— just this one lucky break to… to..!

He swiftly catches her hand before it even reaches into the basket. The claws extending from his darkened fingertips leave indents in her wrist as he presses his thumb against the underside of her wrist. 

Her pulse was out of control. She meets his eyes, and they’re dark with shrewd contempt. Begrudgingly, she allows her hand to go slack in his grasp. 

“I’m sorry for scaring you.” 

The sly apology made her blood run cold. His tone dripped with pity and the sternness of an accusation. Mari lets out a long, steady exhale and manages the brightest, beaming smile she could muster. She brings her free hand to his cheek and caresses his skin, feeling the soft peach fuzz under her thumb. 

Contempt fades from his gaze; tension still remains in his stiff shoulders and tail. As he layers his hand over hers, she pulls the other from his grasp. She reaches for his tail which swishes out of her grasp. She tries again, and, like disapproving cat she’s met with that silent bristling anger again. 

“I’m sorry too, Mr. Wolf.” She murmurs as her hand finally smooths out his puffy tail. His ears droop as pity melts into gentle contemplation before she’s fully enveloped in his arms. Suddenly too tired to tremble any further and too proud to beg for her life, she foolishly allows her eyes to fall shut just for a moment. 

As Mari slips away into turbulent dreams, the scent of iron perforates her nose. Something pulls on her limbs, claws rip into her skin until they’re ripped from her body. Her delicate bones are snapped cleanly. The meat inside is sucked out like a crab’s leg as her insides boil over with searing pain. That monster would then pick her bones clean, leaving her as nothing more than a bloodstained cloak dressing a weather-beaten skull. At least she dies surrounded by beautiful white flowers with the satisfaction of knowing her cookies are perfect enough to satiate a beast. She hopes he’d be satisfied with her blood and flesh enough to become his last meal. She prayed for it. 

When she opens her eyes again, she finds herself still pressed up into the wolfman’s body, albeit now lying in the crook of his arm like a makeshift bed. They weren’t on her blanket anymore, for he had packed it up along with all her food and neatly folded it back in her basket. He must’ve noticed her shift; he brushes her sweat-soaked bangs from her face. 

“May I take you home?” He suggests with a serene smile. 

Wearily, she nods. 

[soulrox]

DPxDC #33

I just stumbled across this post by @stealingyourbones and love it, but instead of the Fentons, what about this...

John Constantine is Vlad Master's ex. In the years following Vlad's accident, he wasn't fully evil. (Yes, he did overshadow and steal a lot, but shhh)

So, Valds is trying to gather more info on ghosts and the Infinite Realms because he needs access, and he stumbles across John Constantine. John helped teach Vlad about more supernatural stuff, etc.

They fell for each other when Vlad saved him from a demon.

Years later, John Constantine is sent to Amity Park by the JLD and meets Mayor Masters and the chaos that is Amity Park.