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lexxiie · 1 year

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can we have lov trio + overhaul discovering that their s/o had been cheating on them? 🥺

When They Think You Cheated

Omg, anon, no! I'm so bad at writing break ups, so I'll change the concept a bit to them believing their s/o is cheating, but she's not.

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Featuring: Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks, Overhaul.

TOMURA SHIGARAKI

Tomura is an insecure man. That is no secret to either of you, however, he understands how his insecurities may harm your relationship, so most of the time he voices them out so that you can both talk about them, and you always end up reassuring him.

Today, though, he cannot, for the life of him, think of a way to talk out the fact that you have a hickey on your neck. What is there to talk about? The truth that he ignored was that you accidentally burnt your neck earlier this morning while doing your hair, it would've never occured to him, especially when he was as angry as he is right now, observing your neck, a thin layer of make up attempting to cover the mark, but failing. Why would you even hide it if there was a reasonable explanation? He knew for a fact that he didn't left that on your neck.

As much as he wanted to yell at you and dispose of all his rage, truth was that he was really hurt, and so everything he managed to do was confront the reality with resignation. "Who did that?" He asked calmly, but you could hear bitterness in his voice. "What?" You asked, not very sure what he meant. He looked at you angrily now, it was very clear. "Who's the guy that you are seeing? Or do you just happen to have a different one every now and then? You know, I always thought of you as a smart girl, but it is very stupid of you to let them leave your neck like that, you could've tried harder to hide it." You finally understood what was going on... Oh god. He tried to sound as if he didn't care, cold and indifferent, but you knew how incredibly hurt he was.

You immediately got up and approached him, reaching for his face, but he moved to avoid your touch. "Tomura, look, it's a burn mark, I did it with my straightener, I swear." He looked at you through narrowed eyes, still not believing you. You rushed to your room and came back with your straightener in hand, turning it on and attempting to place it on your arm, but Tomura immediately stopped you. "Are you crazy?" The man scolded you, and you looked at him desperately. "It is a burn, I swear." You repeated. Now starting to doubt himself, Tomura then reached for your neck, caressing it softly with his thumb, rubbing a bit of the make up off. You were right. Oh no. He truly felt like a fucking asshole. The man sighed before pressing his forhead against yours. "I'm truly sorry, (Y/n). I'm so, so sorry." You were just relieved it all ended. He spent the rest of the evening tending to your wound, scolding you for putting make up on when it was still so fresh and kissing your cheeks in hopes you would forgive him. Never again will he act like that, that's for sure.

TOUYA TODOROKI | DABI

Touya sits silently on the edge of the bed as he observes the hotel recipt he found under the bed. It dates a week back, when you were supposed to go on a work trip at a completely different city than the one this hotel was at. Now, he can be very confident some days, and very insecure some other days. This is one of the latter days, evidently. In moments like this, thousands of thoughts run through his mind. Why? Is it because of the scars? But you said you didn't care. Did you lie? Of course you did, who would actually choose him over anyone else? He feels stupid, and so heartbroken. He loves you. He really does, and now all of this hurt has turned into uncontrolable anger.

He stands up and walks to the kitchen, where you turn around to smile at him as soon as you hear him coming, only to be greeted by his beautiful blue eyes contorted in pure rage. He must be a very scary adversary to his enemies. "What the fuck is this, (Y/n)?!" He asks while holding the recipt in his hand, speaking those words through gritted teeth, as if his jaw was frozen because of how angry he is.

"Wait, Touya, is not what it looks lik-" The villain slammed his fist on the kitchen island, flames emanating from it. "It's not?! Really, (Y/n)? Do you really think i'm this fucking stupid?” He is now yelling, very loudly. He starts getting closer to you, and you start walking backwards, trembling. He then takes one more step forward and you raise your arms as if you wanted to protect yourself. Now Touya is the one walking backwards. He would never hurt you, but as he took a step back, he realized that it really looked like it. Did you think that he was gonna incinerate you? Did you think he was about to hit you? The look on your eyes was too familiar, he had seen it in his mother's eyes way too many times. He sighed deeply as he burried his face in his hands. It seemed like he wanted to wake up from a nightmare, and then, as seconds went by and he wasn't lifting his head, you realized he might have started to cry, though he would never let you see him.

"That day-" you started speaking after several minutes, "I decided to stay at a different city because I heard about it being quiet and pretty. I thought maybe I could rent an apartment there, so you wouldn't be at risk. There isn't many people, it is indeed quiet, no one would recognize you, so I looked at a few places. There isn't anyone else I'm seeing, just apartments." Touya finally lifted his head from his hands, and you could see the relief in his eyes, but also a lot of guilt. A lot of it. He got closer, kneeling before you, pressing his forehead to your body, his hands clenching the coat that covered the sides of your frame. This was him apologizing. You caressed his hair softly, everything would be okay.

KAI CHISAKI | OVERHAUL

He trusts you, he really does, but what is he supposed to believe when you tell him that you are going to the grocery store and you lie. He went there to help you in case you had bought too many stuff since it was taking you a while, but you were nowhere to be found. Minutes later, you come home, smelling like men's cologne that clearly wasn't his own.

God, this can't be happening, he thinks to himself. You walk to him, hoping to get a kiss from the yakuza, but instead you are greeted with a cold stare, his lips don't move when you place yours over them. "Where were you?" He asks visibly angry. "At the grocery store." You answered showing him the two bags on your hands. "All of these hours just for that? You really don't want to piss me off, (Y/n). Not more than you already did." Now his tone sounds like a threat, and you get defensive. "What is that supposed to mean?" You ask him. You have always hated whenever he would talk to you like you were one of his men, and he knew that. "Where did you actually go?" Unbelievable. You still didn't quite understand where he was trying to get, but you did know that you didn't like the way he was interrogating you. "Did you go out to meet with someone?" He asked, this time, impatience ruled over his voice. Okay, so he thinks you are cheating. great.

Leting out a heavy sigh, you dropped your bags on the floor and approached the hurting man before you. Much to your surprise, he allowed you to take his face in your hands. "I went out to get you a new cologne, I noticed you ran out of the last one I gave you. I wanted it to be a surprise, but it is in the car, in case you wish to have it now."

God, did he feel like an idiot right now... You could tell that he was beating himself up mentally. The worst part of it was that he felt truly relieved that you hadn't fallen out of love with him yet. Despise him attempting to seem indifferent earlier, he felt like his whole world was crumbling down before him. Kai then took your hands in his, kissing them softly. "I'm truly very sorry, darling." He said sincerly. "It's okay, I should've made up a better excuse anyway." You replied smiling gently. He couldn't help but smile back, still embarrassed with himself. He compensated you treating you to dinner that night. Kai saw himself realizing how strong he felt about you. The sole idea of you leaving made him feel vulnerable and terrified for the very first time in a while. He was going to need to learn how to trust you more if he didn't want to lose you.

KEIGO TAKAMI | HAWKS

The pro hero had a lot of work all of the time. He would get home late very often, many times closer to sunrise than midnight. Of course, it was only logical for you to be asleep at those hours, which was always the case. Except for last week.

He had gotten home very late, but still earlier than usual, expecting to find his lover on his bed, hoping he could hold on to you for a couple of hours before he had to get to work once again, but you weren't there. Naturally, he freaked out, but just as he was about to go looking for you everywhere, the main door flew open. He hid on the bathroom, in case it was someone else, but all he saw was you getting on the bed and falling asleep almost instantly.

He let that incident go. He gave you the benefit of the doubt, he gave you his trust. This despite the uneasy feeling in his chest, however, today, you weren't on the bed either. Now the doubt felt very real. What on earth could you be doing at 4 am? He waited a couple of minutes, until you finally got home. The hero was trying his very best not to break down when he saw you. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this hurt. "That other bed must be really comfortable." He accused, startling you as you obviously weren't expecting to see him yet. "What?" you asked, a bit disoriented. "You heard me." Keigo then stood up from the couch, walking towards you. "How long have you been sneaking out for, huh? Cause this is the second time I witness this already" You realized how this looked immediately. Oops.

"Listen, Keigo, I'm not sleeping with anyone else. In fact, I'm not sleeping at all." The man looked at you confused now, all of the anger he previously showed you slowly disappearing. "I have been having trouble sleeping, so i go out and take walks in hopes i'll get tired, I'm sorry I worried you, yes?" You assured your lover as you took his hands in yours, offering him a tired smile. "But why? You used to sleep well before..." All of his previous worries seemed to be forgotten as soon as he realized how tired you looked, his hands roaming your face, as if they would figure out what had changed. "Yes, that was before you would leave all night, I guess I'm a bit more anxious now." You confessed. He felt very bad for adding to your already bad night with his insecurities. Soon after, though, Keigo managed to change his schedule, making sure to spend every night holding you, and he would be lying if he said he didn't miss you too. As for that particular night, he prepared you a tea and talked about his day until he made sure you had fallen asleep.

MASTERLIST

#bnha scenarios #bnha headcanon #bnha fic #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #tomura shiragaki #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #hawks headcanons #keigo takami imagine #kai chisaki x reader #overhaul x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia

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pedropascallme · 1 year

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I’ll Always Come Back

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader; no use of y/n

Summary: “The bed in the house you shared wasn’t all that large, but without Joel in it you felt completely dwarfed. It was like the mattress was swallowing you whole without Joel to anchor you to his broad shoulders and wide chest.”

Warnings: Smut (18+ MINORS DNI), dom/sub dynamics (dom!Joel x sub!Reader), fingering, oral (M & F receiving), p in v sex, praise kink, daddy kink. If I missed anything please let me know!

~~~

Summer in Jackson was a mixed bag. On the one hand, the warm weather made it much more encouraging to tend to your day-to-day activities; you could clean up around the house, sing along to the radio Joel had fixed up while you rearranged the cabin you had been gifted. You could go out and mingle without the need to put on layers and layers of clothing. And the plants—God, the plants! Things were growing, summer meant fresh greens and tending to your little plot of garden.

On the other hand, summer in Jackson meant extended patrols; the warm weather encouraged raiders to branch out further, to attempt riskier and riskier maneuvers. You never felt scared, why should stuff like that scare you after everything you had been through with Joel and Ellie? But what did get to you was the fact that Joel’s patrols were getting longer as the warm June days arrived.

Ultimately, things weren’t much different. You and Ellie and Joel still had time together and time apart, but it drove you nearly insane when you had to get into bed without him, wake up without him. The bed in the house you shared wasn’t all that large, but without Joel in it you felt completely dwarfed. It was like the mattress was swallowing you whole without Joel to anchor you to his broad shoulders and wide chest.

Today had consisted of next to nothing. Ellie had shouted at you while you were still half asleep, saying something along the lines of “Dina” and “movie night” and “back tomorrow, maybe!” You had offered a lazy “mmff” in response. And then you heard the door slam. You tried your best to spend the day doing something—anything—productive. Go for a walk, clean the kitchen, weed the garden. In the end, though, you had found yourself letting yet another day slip by completely wasted. Maybe not completely: You had found the copy of The Catcher in the Rye that you had picked up somewhere along your journey with Joel and Ellie.

You remembered how much you had loved the cover when you first read the book—you must’ve been 14 or 15, if even. The red carousel horse that looked so…messy and unhinged. That might’ve been what initially drew you to the book in the first place, not to judge a book by its cover or anything, but it just looked so promising. When you reread it, you found yourself comparing Holden Caulfield to one Joel Miller; the character’s intensity, his need to isolate himself in order to protect himself and everybody else, his crippling losses. It was all Joel. So maybe, in the back of your mind, you had really just started skimming through it today to remind yourself of the growth you had seen Joel go through in your time together. He was so closed off, so hesitant when you had first joined him and Ellie. Of course, the biggest difference between the real life and the literary was Joel’s ability to grow, to open up and remember how to feel; Holden never really got that sort of closure.

After hours and hours of reading and reminiscing, the sun had finally started to go down. You prepared yourself for another night alone in the house. You were happy Ellie had the ability to go out and spend her time with people she loved, but when Joel was out for so long, you couldn’t help but feel jealous. Jealous and lonely. But you were a big girl, and you could handle it. Even if you hated it. You changed out of your denim shorts and took off the tank top that was now fairly sweaty, opting to sleep naked. Might as well if nobody is going to see you, anyway. You curled up under the bedsheet, not bothering to sleep under the comforter, it was entirely too hot for that. You fell asleep far quicker than anticipated.

You woke with a start when you felt a hand wrap around your midriff, a voice in your ear drawling “g’night, darlin’.” Dazed, you turned yourself over to face the direction of the voice.

Joel was home.

Nothing could’ve snapped you out of your groggy state faster than the excitement of seeing him again after so long. Really, it hadn’t been long at all, but it was always such a relief having him back next to you. You clung to him, reacquainting yourself with his smell and the feel of him. Just as quickly, though, you pushed yourself up and off of him.

“You’re dirty.”

“Missed you too, sweetheart.” He pulled you back down to him, caging you in with his arms. “Don’t’cha like dirty, baby?” He laughed while you tried to wriggle yourself out of his hold.

“Like it when it’s how you’re acting, not when you’re literally caked in dirt.” You faked outrage, hitting his chest softly.

“C’mon, know you like seein’ me this way.”

And he was right, obviously. You loved seeing his hair pushed back with sweat, feeling his calloused hands against your bare back, tracing his collarbones and feeling the gravelly remnants of dirt.

“You had a good patrol, then?” You asked, finally letting yourself fall atop him, truly not caring about the dirt and sweat.

“It was alright. Uneventful. Fuckin’ hot out there, though.”

“Maybe it’s time to start wearing shorts, cowboy.”

“Yeah, that’s what everybody wants to see. My old man knees shinin’ out in the sun.”

You giggled. He traced his hands down your naked body, letting himself feel every dimple and curve.

“You got th’right idea. Nothin’ like comin’ in from the heat to see my baby stripped down for me. Should probably start doin’ the same whenever I can.” He squeezed your ass roughly, forcing a moan from your lips.

“C-can’t just walk around the commune naked, Joel. At least put some rips in your pants.”

“Mm, why walk around the commune in jeans when I could strip down with you at home, darlin’?” He delivered a smack to your ass, making you gasp. “Could just stay here all day ‘nd play with you. Make me sweat, keep me cool.” He quirked an eyebrow, tongue wetting his bottom lip before he brought your face to his with both his hands.

He tasted perfect, like the cigarettes he and Tommy swore they weren’t smoking, like whiskey, like mint, like black coffee. He licked at your bottom lip, encouraging you to open your mouth and let his tongue in. You felt him sweep the inside of your mouth, spit mingling and teeth clacking together as the kiss intensified. Without separating himself from you, Joel sat up, grabbing you by the hair and biting your bottom lip.

“Gonna be good f’me?” He still had you by the hair as he started to undo his belt. “Gonna show daddy what you missed so much while I was gone?”

“Wanna show you, please Joel.”

He pulled your hair tighter into his fist, and you let out a high pitched sound.

“You can do better than that, baby. Try again.”

“Please daddy, I wanna show you what I missed!”

“Atta girl.”

He pulled his belt from the loops on his jeans in one swift motion, undoing his button and fly just as fast. You could see the bulge that had grown in his jeans, and your mouth watered at the sight.

“You wanna be good?” Joel pulled your head back so that you were looking into his eyes. “You gotta work for what you want, baby. You know that.” He laughed when your hands flew to his crotch, shoving the denim down his hips and doing the same to the boxers he was wearing. You took his hard length in your hands; no matter how long you had been together, no matter how many times he let you have it, you were consistently amazed by how big he was. He was long, thick, heavy in your hands, and it just spurred you on further to show him how good you could be.

“Spit.” He still had a fist in your hair, and he held you above the tip of his cock. You did as you were told, letting your spit drip from his tip, down his shaft. He made you repeat the action once more before letting you move your hands.

“Good girl, jerkin’ daddy off so good.” He groaned when you dropped a hand to his balls, your other hand working his full length. His back arched slightly when you gave his balls a squeeze, moving your hand to focus on the head of his cock. He released you from his grip.

“Open your mouth, baby, give your daddy a show, huh?” You jumped at the chance, shuffling down his body and lowering your face between his hips. You kept one hand working up and down his shaft and took as much as you could in your mouth, flicking your tongue against his most sensitive spots.

“Fuck, good girl. Gonna make me cum if you keep going like that. Fuck!” You took his rambling as an opportunity to take as much of him as you could down your throat. Suddenly, his hand was back in your hair, pulling you off of him. A string of your saliva kept you connected to his cock, dripping from your puffy lips.

Joel brought your face back up to his, catching you in a heated kiss. You felt him bite your bottom lip, your own tongue tasting the inside of his mouth. He broke away for just long enough to flip you onto your back. He stood over you, pulling his jeans off completely and staring down at you hungrily.

“Y’out here sayin’ you don’t like dirty. You got such a mouth on you, baby, y’know it’s not good to go ‘round lyin’.” He pulled you towards him by your ankles, letting your legs fall over the edge of the bed before he kneeled in front of you and hiked them up on his shoulders. “See how I know you were lyin’?” He wasted no time showing you, pushing a thick finger into your cunt. “Drippin’ baby, fuckin’ soaked. S’all for daddy, isn’t it, sweetheart?” You moaned at the sudden intrusion. Just one of Joel’s fingers was enough to make you lose control completely. He twisted it inside you, pumping in and out slowly.

“Tell me it’s for daddy.”

“I—it’s all for, it’s all f—for daddy!” You gasped when you felt another one of his fingers exploring your slit, using your wet to force itself in beside his other finger.

“S’what I thought.” He curled his fingers, bringing his mouth down to your clit and sucking hard. You let out a scream of his name. He only sucked harder, letting the bundle of nerves go with a pop.

“Cum on my fingers, baby. C’mon now, give it to me.” You felt his fingers, still curled, start rubbing against the spongy spot inside of you. Your walls began to clench around his fingers, his mouth once again finding a pace on your clit. You came around his fingers with a jumbled mixture of gasps and screams, barely registering how he talked you through it.

“Good fuckin’ girl, that’s it. Yeah, show daddy what a good girl you are.” Joel placed another kiss on your clit, slowly slipping his fingers out of you. Though your mind was still foggy from the orgasm he had just given you, you whined at the sudden emptiness. When he stood above you again, you reached your arms up for him. He smiled down at you, bending over to kiss your forehead and then your lips.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, not done yet.” He straightened himself out a little, placing a knee on the bed next to you. You reached out to brush your fingers over his thigh. God, he was so muscular. You suppose, for all the walking he did, he should be, but still. Your legs were once again over his shoulders, now above you as he loomed over your naked figure. He took his cock in his hand, stroking himself as he lined himself up with your still dripping slit.

“Daddy’s gonna give you more baby, don’t worry.” You felt the tip of his cock nudge your clit before he lowered himself into your pussy. You both groaned at the contact; the squeeze of your cunt around his thick cock felt like heaven for each of you.

Once fully inside of you, Joel dropped the leg that had bed resting on the bed back to the ground, and pressed his body to yours, chest to chest. He pulled out till just his head was still resting in your pussy, before snapping his hips forward, shoving himself completely back into you, punching the air from your lungs.

“Missed this pussy,” he breathed out shakily, keeping a harsh pace, “missed feelin’ your tight fuckin’ cunt wrap around me like this.”

“Missed you so much, missed daddy’s cock—fuck!” He had your arms above your head now, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples and slowing his strokes slightly, continuing to fuck you deep. You rubbed your hips into his own, desperate for as much friction as you could get. He felt you bucking your hips, laughing at your desperation.

“Poor lil’ baby, such a needy fuckin’ pussy.”

“Dadd—y, need it!”

“Watch your mouth, darlin’, I’m givin’ it to you, ain’t I? Remember who you’re speakin’ to,” he sped up his thrusts, making your tits bounce while you lay back taking it. “Need some fuckin’ manners, baby.”

“I—fuck!—Please daddy, need to cu—m on your cock. Please!” You were begging, he had you exactly where he wanted you. Fucked out and messy, your hair sticking to your forehead and your slick dripping down his cock to your thighs. He loved when you got desperate. Fuck, he had missed you. He had been gone two, maybe three days, and all he could think about was coming home to you. One of his hands came down between your legs, fingers attaching to your clit. You arched your back, moaning, inviting him to touch you where you needed him most. He massaged your bud in tight, neat circles, his fingers moving faster than his thrusts.

He was fucking merciless.

“Can feel that pussy getting’ tighter on me. Y’gonna cum for me again, baby? Gonna cover daddy’s cock in your pretty fuckin’ juices?” His thrusts were beginning to speed up, and within a few more seconds of him fucking you senseless and talking you up (“Good girl, good girl gonna soak daddy’s big cock. That’s right, beautiful, make a fuckin’ mess on me.”) you were cumming hard around him. You grabbed at him, pulling him down onto you while he continued to push his cock deeper into you.

“That’s right, my fuckin’ girl. So good baby, tha’s it.” You scratched your nails down his back, legs shaking as you wrapped them around him. His thrusts became sloppy, nearing his high. You took it upon yourself to gain back a teeny bit of control.

“Cum, daddy, please. Want you to fill me up, want daddy’s cum.” He growled in your ear, fucking into you harder.

“Yeah? Want daddy to full this cunt with my fuckin’ load, baby?”

“Please, yes please,” you begged, still trembling from your own high.

“Gonna give it to you, sweetheart, gonna—shit, gonna fill you up so nice and deep—” He cut himself off with a deep thrust and a loud groan. You felt the warm spurts of his cum deep inside you, moaning at the sensation. He moaned, dropping himself down onto you. You stayed like that for as long as you could; his cock softening inside you, his full body weight pressing you into the springs of the old mattress, your breathing heavy. It was perfect.

“I missed you so much,” Joel panted out, still catching his breath. “M’sorry for comin’ home dirty. ‘Nd late.” He pushed himself up off of you, now mostly-soft cock sliding out of you, turning to lie on his back. You crawled up to him, lying on your side as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You could feel his cum and yours dripping down the curve of your thigh and onto the mattress.

“You know I don’t mind. I know you’re out there keeping us all safe. You’re good at it.” You kissed his jawline. “Plus, means I get to welcome you back like this.” He smiled, letting you continue trailing kisses wherever you could reach.

“Just hate leavin’ you.”

“I know you’ll always come back home to me.”

He looked down at you, still smiling. You’ll never get used to seeing Joel Miller smile, but you’ll always love how he looked doing it. He kissed your forehead, pushing the hair out of your face before taking your chin in his hand and leaning you up to kiss him.

“I’ll always come back.”

#Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #Joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #tlou #the last of us smut #tlou smut #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction

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maddiebuckley · 6 months

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TILE TRANSITION TUTORIAL

a couple of people have asked me for a tutorial on how I did the penultimate gif in this set, so here goes! this is my first tutorial, so please feel free to reach out with further questions if anything's unclear.

note: this tutorial assumes you know the basics of gifmaking, can create the base gifs, and are familiar with timeline mode.

STEP ONE: create the base gifs! I'd recommend staying between 25-40 frames for each gif, since the transitions we'll use later tend to increase gif sizes. these are the ones I'll be using for this tutorial:

STEP TWO: create the guide layouts for both base gifs. for this panel, I chose a 4x4 grid — I would recommend keeping the number of "tiles" low because it can get tedious, but have a minimum of 9 (3x3 grid).

now your canvas should look like this:

STEP THREE: create the tiles. this is where the going gets rough; there might be easier ways to do this that I couldn't think of 😭 if there are any please send me an ask!

essentially, in this step we'll cut up the base gifs into smaller squares so that each tile can be manipulated separately when we put both gifs together. to do this, first create a square using the rectangle tool and the guides. then duplicate the base gif, move it above the square, apply a clipping mask, and then convert the clipped gif and square (selected in the image below) into one smart object.

ALTERNATELY: you could duplicate the original base gif and use layer masks to isolate tiles. create a layer mask for the duplicated gif layer and, with the layer mask selected, drag your mouse over a square (using the guide layout) and press delete. then press ctrl/cmd + i to invert the layer mask so that the gif only shows in the square of your choosing.

now repeat until you've got the entire gif in tiles, and do the same for the other gif!

since the transition effect is achieved by staggering the crossfades for each tile of the final gif, you can cheat by having multiple tiles "flip" at a time, ideally no more than four. this means you need to cut the base gif up into fewer pieces. to do this, simply draw multiple squares instead of one and then merge the shapes, before duplicating and clipping the gif onto them.

if you do this, it's essential to remember that you have to divide both gifs up in the exact same way. each piece of the b/w gif has to correspond to a piece of the purple gif!

this is what the layers look like for each gif once I'm done:

I have them lettered so that it'll be easier to match them up in the next step.

STEP FOUR: this is the complicated bit that took me two days to figure out. I'll do my best to explain but don't hesitate to reach out if something isn't clear!

to begin, open up a new psd and import both base gifs into it. (remember to click "create video timeline" and ensure that your gifs are all in order before proceeding.)

now, the trickiest part about this transition is ensuring that all the little tiles sync up so that the larger gif is coherent. so first we'll create some markers (just empty layers) to ensure that everything lines up as it should. — marker 1: at about halfway through the first gif (b/w in this case) — marker 2: at about a quarter of the gif length — marker 3: close to the end of the gifs

at this point we're ready to start bringing in the tiles. I'm going to delete the base gifs from this new psd just to keep things cleaner!

first thing to do is import my b/w tile. move the timeline slider over to marker 1 and split the first gif. (if it helps, rename the split gifs and add (start) and (end) to the two halves.) then, move the (end) half to the beginning of the timeline, and the (start) half to line up with marker 3.

the purple tile is easier to manage. simply import it into the psd and line it up with marker 2.

your timeline should now look like this:

notice the overlap between the gifs at their beginnings and ends — this is where you'll be able to cascade the tiles flipping, so it helps to have a significant amount of overlap.

crop the three gifs for this tile as you see fit! since this is the first tile I want to flip from b/w to purple, I'll crop gif 1a (end) all the way to the current position of the timeline slider (red line with blue tip) and leave the beginning of gif 2a uncropped. for the flip from purple to b/w, I'll crop both gifs a bit.

once that's done, drag all three gifs onto the same level in timeline so they form a video group. your timeline should look something like this:

now you just repeat the process for all the other tiles! as long as you made sure that all the tiles in one gif correspond with tiles in the other gif in step three, this should be a fairly painless process. make sure to crop the starts/ends of the gifs separately so that they don't all flip together.

this is what my layers look once I've done all the tiles:

and the gif!

STEP FIVE: transitions! click on the half-white square (top right of the left column in the timeline, beside the scissors) and select the crossfade transition, then drag it between two gifs in a video group. it should create a two-triangle symbol and shorten the overall length of the video group.

apply the transition to all the tile flips, ensuring that the duration of all transitions is constant. this can sometimes be tricky because ps likes to change the duration of each transition, so right click on the transition symbol and manually change all your transition durations to be the same.

your layers should now look something like this:

STEP SIX: draw the grid. bring back the guide layout from step two and using the line tool (I like 2px thickness), trace the grid. adjust opacity as you see fit (50-80% is usually a good idea), so that the canvas looks like this:

STEP SEVEN: export and celebrate! you're done!

I hope this tutorial made sense and was easy to follow, and happy giffing! my inbox is always open for any questions <3

#tutorial #ps help #ps tutorial #userace #alielook #userabs #usercats #userhella #userfaiths #tuserabbie #usershreyu #usertreena #tuserlucie #uservivaldi #usertj #usergiu #userroza

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norrisleclercf1 · 1 year

Text

Little Home

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Wolff!Reader

Rating: PG-17

Warnings: Angst, cursing, Max isn’t the best at communicating his feelings neither is reader, Fluff, smidge implied smut, etc.

Words: 1.7K

A/N: I suck at writing endings and now all I have left is the epilogue so sorry if this isn't the best, didn't plan on making this a series but I hope to do more in the future and plan it out better I hope you all enjoy!!!!

Part 1: Little Traitor

Part 2: Little Backstabber

Part 3: Little Heartbreaker

Wedding dress

"Will you marry me?" Time seems to stop as Max stares at you, not letting his thoughts or emotions be known.

"No."

Who would've thought one word could cause so much heartbreak.

7 months later

"Max! Hurry up, we're going to be late!"

Max groans, banging against the mirror before him as he stares at his reflection. Here he was wearing a 3 piece suit, dark navy blue, which almost looked black. With a maroon tie, he keeps fixing it even though it is perfect. Adoring the suit was this little lion pendant with 2 tiny chains connecting to the left breast pocket.

"Max? What is taking so damn-" The person finally freezes, seeing Max in his suit and smiling.

"My little lion." He turns to his mother, who smiles behind her tears as she takes in her son.

"I'm scared. I thought I could do this, but I don't know now." He bursts, making his mother laugh, and walks into his bedroom.

"Little lion, it's normal to be scared, but after everything you've been through, you want to do this but don't like the unknown." Max takes 3 deep breaths. He knew his mother was right, but you both tended to bolt when things made you scared, but you worked it out. He can still remember when he said no.

----------------------------

7 months ago

"What do you mean no?" The walls started to close around you. After all of this, after what just happened, he was going to call it off now.

"I mean," He takes a deep breath before looking at you. "We need to take this slow again; you broke this off-" You go to interrupt him, but he holds up his hand, stopping you. "You had every reason to do because I did betray your trust, and I understand that. But, you hurt me too. You left and refused to talk to me. Before we say we're engaged again, shouldn't we talk about whether we're even a couple?" He asks, sitting across from you while you gap at him in shock.

"Are you fucking serious? We just slept together, and you didn't think to have this talk before?" You're ready to scream with how angry you're getting at him while Max sighs, rubbing his hands over his face.

"You're right. We shouldn't have done that; we needed to talk first, but...I missed you. That's no excuse for that; we need to talk now." You scuff, wanting to storm out, but he was right. You needed to talk.

"I'm tired of you blaming me for not contacting my father. Out of everyone in my life, you should understand where I'm coming from. Instead, you defined him and threw it in my face that I ran to him to hide." You blurt out, Max staring into your soul.

You hated when Max stared at you like this. It was baring you layer by layer and his way of analyzing you. You were an anomaly in his race data that he couldn't figure out. Unnerving is what it is.

"Maybe I was projecting, and it wasn't right. I shouldn't have done that; I lost sleep over it, but.....we should all grow up at the end of the day. From here on out, though, you hate the bastard. I'll hate him too, but you must start giving me real reasons." Oh, you wanted to slap him, yet he was right.

Getting over it when you've been hurt repeatedly is never easy. You need to grow from those life lessons to grow and learn from them. They were just periods at the end of the sentence of your life. They didn't end the story, only paused it. The part of your life you clung to was a chapter of the past. You needed to flip the page and continue on.

"You're right; I need to move on. You don't know how long it takes me to move on." Max drops his head, shaking it at your words.

"Jesus fucking, Christ, Y/n. Do you want to know why we keep arguing about this? You let it cloud your fucking mind. Yes, he has hurt you more than you can count. Yet you allow that to define you as a person, you hold that hate in you, and it's what's hurting this relationship. I'm imperfect, and I won't always be on your side. Y/n, I love you; I want to marry you and have a family with you. I'm not throwing you to the damn wolves and forcing you to suddenly be all roses with him, but fuck...give him an inch at least." You give a humorless laugh gathering up your purse and anything else.

"This was a mistake." Max doesn't even fight you as you walk out the door slamming it hard.

------------------------------------------------------------------

"You're a princess." You smile at your brother in a suit similar to Max's but with a little bow tie.

"Thank you, Jack." Susie pats her son's head, watching you making sure you weren't freaking out.

"It's crooked." Susie fusses, fixing your tiara. The same one your father bought you and gave you as a wedding gift.

"Thanks." You give her a curt answer. Things have been tense between you two ever since you put limits on how much you wanted Toto in your life.

Yes, he was here today and doing his duties as your father, but that still didn't mean you had forgiven him for everything. Toto knew you would never fully forgive him, but he'd take what he could, and you were in therapy to talk and have someone who wasn't in the middle give you a clear answer to what you and the others felt.

"I'm glad you're doing this. You both have grown so much in 7 months." Biting your tongue, you nod and turn to stare at yourself in the white dress.

------------------------------------------------------------------

5 months ago

"Don't." You warn Max, who just rolls his eyes at your antics.

Jack giggles, pointing the water gun at you. Max had given the younger Wolff the water gun as a present since you started watching him more and more. Whenever Susie or Toto couldn't watch him, you would since you both became very close.

"Jack, do it." Max eggs on, and you stare daggers at him while he softly smiles.

Things were starting to get mend between you two. Couples therapy was a segway into fixing this relationship. Both of you had issues, and they were showing more and more in your relationship. No one was perfect, but you needed to communicate better.

You moved back into your apartment with him this week, leading to Jack being here. He was spending the night with you two, and your therapist thought it would be an excellent activity for you two, playing house almost and seeing if you both could use your new tactics of talking to one another when it came to the young boy.

"Die!" Jack yells, causing Max to choke on his laughter as Jack soaks you with the water.

You try to protect yourself, but it's useless as you get drenched in the cold water. Wiping your eyes, you notice that Jack and his partner in crime aren't there anymore. The hairs on your neck rise, making you turn around only to get hit with water in the face.

"Uh oh," Jack whispers as you wipe the water off your face. Angry now, but it was short-lived seeing Max's smiling face, the one holding the water gun this time.

"Run!" Max yells as you chase after the boys. The house filled with laughter.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

"I love him, and we've worked everything out." Susie nods. Knocking stops Susie's reply as Toto opens the small door, barely fitting in the frame, and stops staring at you.

The dress was an elegant a-line lace wedding dress with long sleeves that hugged you perfectly. It had a train about 5 feet with very detailed designs of lace, and underneath, you had Max's initials sewed into it with dark navy blue letters. The tiara was paired with sundropped pearl earrings with a petite diamond necklace that paired nicely with the tiara and earrings.

"Gorgeous." You give your father a soft smile as he holds his hand out for you to grab, helping you down the stairs.

"Come on, Jack, we've got to get you to the boys." Susie brushes past you both, leaving you two.

"Papa-" Toto stops you by lacing your fingers together and smiling.

"Thank you for giving me this opportunity, and while Susie doesn't understand your boundaries, I do. I'm so happy you and Max decided to go through with the wedding. You both loved each other so much." Toto kisses your head as you stop behind the closed doors. Max was only 20 feet away, your future, your husband, your air.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

3 months ago

"You know, we never canceled everything when we called the wedding off." You giggle, turning to look at Max, who is lying on the floor, exhausted from his workout.

"What? Why'd you think of that all of a sudden?" Max shrugs his shoulders and turns to look at you.

"Do you?" He asks, the laughter dying in your throat as you ponder his question.

"That's how you ask me to marry you?" Faking anger, which has Max rolling his eyes but smiling at your antics.

"The first time I asked you was after fucking in the shower." You bust out laughing, knowing that was true, and make up some story about how romantic it was when he asked you.

Climbing off the couch, you walk over and straddle his hips before lowering yourself so you sit on his lap. Max's hands automatically find their way to your ass, squeezing it as he looks up at you.

"Yes, I'll marry you." Max leans up and kisses you gently before dropping back down and arching his hips up. You laugh, both losing your clothes quickly.

----------------------------------------------------------------

"You may kiss the bride." Max doesn't think twice as his arms wrap around you before swinging around and dipping you, kissing you slowly, not caring as he explores your mouth.

Clapping, whistling, and everything else fills the venue as he lifts you back up, both laughing as you kiss each other again before facing the crowd.

"Presenting, Mr. and Mrs. Max Verstappen!" You look at Max smiling, you couldn't be happier to have gone through this, even if you were a little traitor in the beginning, but this quickly became your little home.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist: @welcometomyworldwithoutrules@gentlemonsterjennie1@callsignwidow@mycenterfold@clintsupremacy@notsosurehritika@whotfisvale@black-swan-blog27@severenswife@cinderellawithashoe@vita-di-moda@imchiarashelby1@hiphopdancer101universe@ironmaiden1313@1-800-imma-steal-your-bitch@xcinnamongirl@basicallyherondale@that-aesthetic-chic@omgsuperstarg@southerngirlnow@paprikabadger@mehrmonga@mqcherie@bibissparkles @callsignwidow @vixxen-lou @matildrry @mvclff1 @octaviareina @christianpulisic10 @alexander-hamilhoe @champomiel @daddyslittlevillain

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 scenario #formula one #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen scenario #max verstappen series #little traitor #max x reader #max imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen fluff

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twistedapple · 6 months

Text

On cherry and musk

EDIT 28/10/2023: Part two of the Perfume Rant is bout, about Astarion this time! + added a correction regarding the sulfur part.

EDIT 3/11/2023: Part three of the Perfume Rant is up, this time I talk about my OC, Nuria.

EDIT 28/11/2023: I kept forgetting to make that edit but I added a comment regarding the cherry and how its sickly sweet tone is usually used in perfumes to express death.

Hello hello.

Because Raphael's perfume, according to Yurgir, is exactly the type of scent that makes me lose my mind while being quite uncommon for men perfumes IRL, I've decided to go on a bit of perfume rant because I really like perfume in general (which is funny considering my autistic ass easily goes in sensory overload, especially atm with my state of autistic burnout).

To introduce the topic, I'd like to present some generalities about perfumes, so you know what I mean once I start losing my mind about why Raphael's scent would drive me crazy IRL (someone at Larian knows their shit about perfumes).

Perfumes are, most commonly, made with an alcoholic base (the Middle East also has an oil base), because the ingredients used to create the scents are more soluble in alcohol than water. There are distinctions in the types of perfumes once can find, based on the concentration of scented molecules:

Perfumed mists: less than 3% of scented molecules, low duration over time;

Colognes: the weakest concentration in perfumes as we usually know and use them. It has a long history as well, and was first worn by men;

Eau de toilette (here, understand that it's a perfume associated with cleanliness): count between 5% and 15% of scented molecules;

Eau de parfum (lit. "perfume water"): count between 10% and 20% of scented molecules. These perfumes are more expensive because they're more concentrated, however nowadays they're still commonly found in stores;

Extrait de parfum (perfume extract - pure perfume): count between 15% and 40% of scented molecules, the high concentration means it has to be used with care.

Now, why do we wear perfume? Everything around us as a scent: the soap used to wash our clothes, the food we cook, the deodorant we use... Our own skin has a natural scent. Wearing perfume is a way to control our scent and define our olfactive identity as part of our self-expression and sense of fashion. With hormones at play, not every perfume works with anybody - for example, Hesperide-type perfumes don't suit me, but work wonderfully well on my mother -, so the way a perfume sits and ages on one's skin is just as important as one's personal preferences in term of scents. Interestingly, for some decades now the most common perfumes tend to have a "clean" scent, which matches with Western standards of cleanliness. However, the goal of perfumes being self-expression, they also tend to tell a story based on the way the notes develop and work together.

We have various categories for perfumes, which involve the styles based on the families of notes, the time of the day and the seasons.

The main families of perfume are Floral (self-explanatory), Chypre (woody scents), Oriental (spiced scents), Hesperide (citrus scents) and Aquatic (water-like scents). These families can be mixed in the scale of notes to obtain a more complex scent. For example, Floral scents tend to work well with Oriental and Hesperide tones, Hesperide tones work well with Aquatic ones, Oriental and Chypre scents can be associated to create heady perfumes...

The times of the day are either Daytime or Nighttime. Daytime perfumes tend to be lighter, while Nighttime perfumes, often worn during events or at clubs, will be stronger since they compete with other stronger scents.

Seasons also influence perfumes, some molecules won't last as well in Summer as they do in Winter for example. On the other hand, some molecules will have a harder time expressing themselves in the cold of Winter, so heavier scents may be needed.

A perfume is organised in three layers to unfold its story:

Top notes: the very first notes, which usually don't last much but open the impression of the perfume;

Heart notes: the core scents of the perfume, around which the story is built;

Base notes: the lasting notes of the perfume, which close the story.

There is also two ways a perfume works:

Sillage: the trail left by a perfume;

Projection: the perimeter in whih a perfume can be felt.

Feminine and Masculine perfumes tend to be quite different as well. Feminine perfumes tend to lean on floral and fruity scents, while masculine perfumes will be more in the Aquatic and Oriental family with leather and musk tones. This is where I start my rant on Raphael's likely amazing perfume.

Fruits are rarely used for masculine perfume, to the point I'd say it's a grossly ignored scent family for men. Some years ago, I crossed path with a man in the metro who had the most amazing perfume, with raspberry in distinctive top note, unfolding into a warm woody scent. This is what got me into perfumes, because I had to find out what perfume it was - the most likely candidate is One Million by Paco Rabane, but even then I am not sure. This is a very specific and striking scent, precisely because it's so uncommon for a man to wear. With that in mind, let's remember what Yurgir said Raphael's scent is: cherries, musk and sulfur. I suspect we can take these notes in the proper top-heart-base notes, because they'd make sense that way both in term of perfume composition and as a mean to tell Raphael's personal story.

Cherries make for a sweet, enticing top note, perfect to express Raphael's ability to charm his victims clients. Cherries' sweetness is also often associated with the sickly sweet smell of death, and is used for that purpose in perfumes following that theme. Considering what signing a devil's contract entails, it's quite fitting.

Musk is a common note both for masculine and feminine perfumes, but it tends to be used as a base note. This time, however, it'd make sense to have it in heart note for at least two fantastic reasons: to draw people further in with a warm and sensual note, and because the base note serves to close the story better than musk.

Sulfur as base note would be extremely smart. One might ask me "but Crow, doesn't sulfur smell like rotten egg?" And that would be a pertinent question. It wouldn't be the first time a strange ingredient is used to complete a perfume by providing unexpected results. Here, we're not just talking sulfur, we're talking brimstone. Mixed with the other notes, however, it creates a smoky scent that serves to hint at Raphael's nature as a devil (gotta smell like Avernus!), and also provides a strong support for the sensual musk by adding depth to it.

We also have Raphael's boudoir invitation described as having his perfume: palmarosa and pepper. These scents tend to be heart notes, to compose a refreshing spicy floral: palmarosa is a floral scent with a citrus tone, pepper is what it says on the tin and is considered an aphrodisiac scent. Fitting the boudoir invite, considering the presence of a certain incubus... This addition in the heart notes would counter-balance the musk nicely and contribute to a layer of complexity with a surprisingly feminine tone: floral oriental notes are rarely used in masculine perfumes. However, here I think it serves to express refinement through complexity - something people often associate with Raphael, who presents as a noble (and is, by the Nine Hells' standards, a noble in his quality as Mephistopheles' son), as well as frames himself as an agreeable host who can offer many pleasures to his guests and clients (as long as they have something to provide in exchange - cue the sulfur as base note to remind of Raphael's diabolical nature).

Yurgir describes Tav as bearing Raphael's scent. Raphael was near Tav, which makes me think his perfume has projection rather than sillage. It'd make sense for Raphael to have a perfume more oriented towards projection than sillage: he'd want to let people know he's here, and it's a subtle way to dominate the scene as well in a magnetic manner - and we know Raphael has an imperious tendency, even in his handwriting, so having it expressed in his perfume as well would make sense.

To conclude, Raphael has fantastic taste in perfume in my totally biased opinion (this sort of perfume is a shortcut to make me swoon IRL), and what has been confirmed as being his scent/perfume serves to subtly support his characterisation and tell a story both to us players and the people he deals with in the story.

#not twisted wonderland #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael's perfume would make me OBSESSED #keep this post under the arm if you want to understand what I'm doing with my OC's perfume as well #I REALLY LIKE PERFUME I'm serious when I talk about storytelling in perfumes

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maxislvt · 10 months

Note

pls tell us more about omega!wanda x beta!nat x alpha!reader 👁👁

warnings: amab!reader (no gendered terms), smut, omegaverse, sub!reader, dom! WandaNat, pegging, voyeurism, collaring, mating claims, breeding kinks, spanking, threesomes

i said I was gonna sleep but that's nawt happening so uhhh here!

okay so similar dynamic to my usual omega!wanda fics. You're rather soft and sappy for an alpha. since you face a lot of bullying for it, you hide your identity at work and don't really pursue a relationship because you've always been told that no omega would want an alpha like you.

for this I'd like to think Wanda and Natasha are a match made in hell. they're not dating each other yet. they have feelings for each other but both of them are really dominant and lack interest in being submissive so they're hesitant to commit

They both have their eyes on you before they even figure out you're an alpha. at first it's like a game for them. the first one to take you out on a date gets to do all the nasty and inappropriate things they want to you and tease the other for not getting you first!!

however that goes out the window really fast because they realize you're really bashful and it's just too cute to keep from the other. also you tend to turn and run the second you think you'll be alone with one of them for even a second.

Wanda is subtle. the way she touches you seems so innocent and kind that you almost ignore how close she is to your crotch. You usually don't catch on to her innuendos until much later into the conversation. She never forces you to stay but something is always compelling you to stay put and listen

Natasha on the other hand is very bold and doesn't hold back. sometimes you're literally pinned down and forced to deal with all her perverted comments. you couldn't run away even if you wanted to. her intentions are very explicit and there's little room for what she wants to do with you

it only gets worse when they find out you are an alpha. mainly because their nasty little fantasies can get really explicit now but also because they know exactly how to tease you. they never push too hard, but just enough to get you worked up

you don't know that they know but after falling victim to their coordinated attempts at courting, you assumed that they guessed incorrectly about what rank you are. in an attempt to have some peace, you make this grand reveal to them and they're so unphased. in fact, they're more focused on how good your scent is more than anything.

one thing leads to another and suddenly you're sandwiched between the two of them and fucked out of your mind. they don't even let you put up another act about how alphas should behave and keep you spoiled in bed all day until you stop pouting and promise to give them a fair chance

they do make an effort to take you on nice dates and buy you actual courting gifts. they're really expensive and have a lot of thought put into them. some of them are literally just sex toys they wanna use on you at a later date. like the first thing they buy you is a vibrator and lube. the hope was that you'd be curious but too inexperienced to do it on your own and come running to them

they're very horny romantics. so their claim bites on are either layered on top of each other to make a heart or symmetrical somewhere on your body. the choice is yours but I think it'd be the same way on all three of you.

anyways, you guys are a very practical pack I feel. the three of you would love to have everything be matching and constantly do cuddle piles but it doesn't always get to happen. sometimes it's as simple as one of you is on a mission and can't do the cuddle pile. other times it's the simple fact that Wanda likes to wear pajama pants, you only sleep in shorts, and nat typically goes without pants when sleeping.

and I think that practically carries over into sex as well. in my mind Wanda and Nat are a complementary pair. Wanda is soft and Natasha is strict. That isn't to say they can't come together and spoil or tease you though.

if it's just you and nat or you and Wanda, the whole scene was likely recorded and there's a million photos of how you looked.

Wanda prefers to get you really deep into subspace and wait until you're practically leaking through your underwear before stripping you naked and filling your ass to the brim. she'll let you cum as much as you want so long as you're good and let her have fun too

Natasha likes to tease. She'll edge you for hours before she even thinks about pegging you. Nat is not above spanking you just for fun! After she's marked up your skin and left you a sticky mess, she'll spank your ass bright red until you have a hand print

80% of the time they top you together is to spoil you. it doesn't have to be a special event, but they like making you feel good together and watching you make a mess of yourself. they'll stretch your ass out with both of their straps and go for as long as they can.

The other 20% is always a punishment and not even Wanda's pampering nature can save you. If you break their rules, then you have to suffer the consequences. Since Natasha is a sadist and spanks you all the time, they get a little more creative. They fuck each other right in front of you and make you edge yourself with a simple fleshlight.

The only time they let your top is if you're in a rut and that doesn't mean you're not subbing. most of the time, you're breeding Wanda while Natasha is controlling your hips and keeping you in check via a collar.

Natasha likes to watch while you and Wanda fuck out your cycles. Maybe she'll ride you during rut if she's really horny and wants to be knotted but she prefers to watch you try and act all dominant and tough sometimes.

also their straps are enchanted and they love fucking your face. Natasha likes actually fucking your throat but Wanda just thinks you look absolutely adorable on your knees and desperate to please her.

the aftercare is always wonderful. they follow a similar routine even if they're not fucking you together because it's tailored to what they think you need most after sex. cuddles and a bath are mandatory, even if Wanda has to drag you to the bathroom with her magic. if they've tipped you together, they prefer you just go right into taking a nap but they will let you watch TV or play a videogame if they weren't too rough.

honestly they seem like the type to not even consider sex if they know you haven't eaten anything, but they still keep a few in the mini fridge just in case you need something.

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hentyehottie · 9 months

Text

Oh nothing, just thinkin about a cute, chubby little babe whose new fav hobby is baking. Do you like sweets? Sure, but that’s not why you started.

No, it was the look on your husband’s face whenever you’d go to the bakery to pick up fresh bread. He’d stare at the dessert case like a kid in a candy store, begging you to let him get one as if he wasn’t a grown man making his own salary and now he makes that same face whenever you offer him first pick of your own delicious, freshly baked pastries.

This time is no different, you hear the click of the front door shutting, he’s walking into your quaint little kitchen with a news paper tucked in his axillary and his briefcase in hand. He’s dropping his case near the threshold and tossing the paper onto the table, footing over to you and placing an earnest kiss on your lips before flipping on the sink’s faucet to wash his hands.

Your husband is old fashioned, no social life and not many hobbies due to his demanding work schedule. He says you’re too pretty to work a job so he works six days a week, every single week, in order to give you your soft life.

You carry not a worry in the world except whether or not you may have over starched his jeans or added too much salt in your latest confection. Of course these little desserts and things don’t equate to all that he does but it’s literally the least you can do to thank him. He swears he doesn’t deserve it, coming home to your love and a hot meal everyday is more than enough but you tell him otherwise every single time.

“Made ya somethin.”

He’s drying his hands with a dish towel, turning around to see what delectable treat you’ve gone out of your way to make for him today.

Bright eyes lighting up as you present him with a display tray of heart shaped puff pastries, lightly dusted with powdered sugar, split down the middle and filled with a tall dollop of a blush-pink colored cream. He’s pulling the chair out, pulling up the legs of his trousers and plopping down in the seat, his legs spread wide. Today was long, or at least it felt long, but even a second away from you is just too damn long. But, it’s over and now he gets to indulge in a sweet treat and hopefully his sweet wife later on.

He goes to grab one and his pinky finger catches some of the cream from another, those big hands of his are never really ideal when it comes to grabbing such delicate, tiny things. He admired your creation, from the flaky layers of the puff pastry to the little specks of red littered throughout the cream.

“Strawberry cream?”

“Mhm.”

He’s so attentive, it melts your lil heart. “But they’re not in season.”

“I got the freeze dried ones from the store and a tiny bit of strawberry flavoring. Tastes just as good, I promise.” It tastes the same to you, but who knows if it’d taste good to him, his favorite fruit is strawberries after all.

He goes in for his first bite and he’s not surprised when a tiny little bit of the cream oozes out and plops onto his white collared shirt—some of your pastries do tend to get messy sometimes, his face and his laundry have come to find out.

But it’s no big deal, he just swipes it up with that same pinky & sucks it off like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

He let’s out the sweetest groan—one that has his cute little wife squeezing her thighs together, trying to keep your cool as you wait for him to finish.

“Damn that’s tasty.”

“Yeah?” You gush, the way he closes his eyes and tosses his head back has you damn near squealing.

“Mhm, but everything you make is delicious.”

Gosh, when he gives you that dazzling smile you almost melt. You rarely ever heard your husband swear, at least not outside of the bedroom, and you have to admit it’s so damn sexy.

“Reallyyyy?” You drag.

“Yeahhhh.” He mocks your tone, free hand gently grasping your jaw to pull you in for another quick kiss.

Two bites. Two bites is all it takes for him to finish the dainty little pastry before he’s reaching for another.

He looks at you like you’ve grown another head when you pop his hand and push the tray away.

“You’ll ruin your dinner.”

He’s not sure what you’re cooking, maybe a roast or stew and it smells hearty and delicious. He’s sure one more little cream puff won’t ruin his appetite.

“Babyyy.” Here he goes with the damned whining. “Just one more.”

He pulls you closer by the hem of your pretty pink gingham lace trimmed apron, the scraping of the chair’s legs against the wooden flooring harsh and loud as he pushes back to give you some room. A pat of his thigh has you raising your leg, throwing it over both of his and straddling his lap.

“I just wanted you to try one! You can have more for dessert after dinner.”

“I tried it and I liked it. I want another.”

It’s a little while before you feel it—him moving his hips back and forth, grinding the hard bulge in his slacks against your panty-covered cunt. He thinks he’s sooo slick, giving you those eyes, that look—you know the one.

“Please baby, you don’t mind dessert before dinner when it’s you I’m eating, let’s keep things fair, my love.”

Your mouth goes ajar for a quick second, opening and closing in speechlessness before a heavy gasp escapes. You don’t have a comeback and your adorable little pout is no match for his fiery gaze and quick tongue, determined to get his second treat. You’re folding almost immediately, sighing as you reach back to grab another cream puff.

“Okay, but only one more.”

This is soooo Rengoku coded but you can insert any of your favs really 😁

*this wasn’t even supposed to be this long 😭

#black reader #black fem reader #anime x black!reader #black!reader #black coded reader #black!y/n #demon slayer x black reader #kny x black reader #mha x black reader #black coded #black!fem!reader #aot x black reader #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x black reader #kyojuro x black reader #HentyeHottie🌸

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rat3ggs · 2 months

Text

beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

God he’s so fine I can’t get over it 😮‍💨

So, This is my first post on tumblr, any advice or constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! Sorry for bad grammar and punctuation, I kinda made this randomly.

Gyutaro smut, Fem bodied reader, semi public sex, light bdsm (hair pulling, mild teasing), 2.1k words, I genuinely don’t know what else to add.

———————————————————————

You work as a courtesan in the red light district, you’ve been here.. so long, it feels like it’s been a century.

You’ve noticed life has slowly lost its taste- the exciting adrenaline that comes with the feeling of being in the red light district now tastes bland and flavourless; everything just molds together, the faces of the men you’ve lain with look the same, the same actions, the same sizes, the same warm skin.. death would be more interesting than your current life is. Everyday like clockwork you awake, tend to the house, and prepare to service clients. you put on your layered kimono and begin applying your makeup, a thick layer of white makeup to cover your skin, you darken your eyebrows and then apply some red eyeshadow, and finally the red lip-tint.

That’s the theme.. red, your kimono is red, your eye makeup and lips.. red seems to haunt everything in your life, the colour red almost makes you feel sick.

The day went by so fast you barely even registered night came, it felt like someone was just possessing your body. before you even notice what your doing you’ve left the walls of the Ogimoto House. you stroll through the streets before the eyes of various men became far too much for you, you turn into an alleyway-- not a smart action, luckily, the men don’t follow you.

You walked for what felt like hours, but in reality it was probably just a few minutes. You eventually stopped in an alleyway.. not by choice, but when you step into a puddle and it’s soaked your shoes, when you look down, you see that sickening red. For a moment, your eyes barely registered what it is; it’s a puddle of blood! When you finally did realize, it’s not because you came to your senses; it’s because you heard a scratchy voice in the shadows.

“Ohh? Hold on, Did a courtesan stray from her house? It’s my lucky day..”

Your head whipped up to look up at the voice—it’s not like anything you’ve ever heard. It sounds like he’s never drunken water in his entire lifetime, or even touched a liquid for that matter. Your eyes can’t help but widen as you see the man or thing that stands before you. His posture reminds you of a shrimp! a large man with pale grey skin, black polka dots and mist shaped marks scattered all over his body. He has short wavy hair which starts out black then fades to green.. you’ve never thought much of green but he makes it so.. beautiful. His sclera are an unnatural colour of yellow and his irises are dark green with the kanji for Upper Moon Six written on, you can see his hip bones.. he’s so skinny he’d look like bone If not for the muscle he has! he wears no shirt and only has on a pair of baggy blue pants as well as a long red cloth wrapped loosely around his arms and neck… he holds two sickles that resemble bone? It clicks he’s a demon.

“Aren’t you pretty? I bet you already know that huh? Well? What are you staring at, never seen a demon before? Or have you never seen someone so unfortunate looking?”

He said “unfortunate looking” with a big smile.. almost like he took pride in his lack of attractiveness, your eyes trailed along his teeth for a second.. so sharp, he could bite a piece out of your flesh effortlessly! your eyes fell back to the blood- you don’t see a body? Maybe he ate it?.. he does have those shark teeth!

“Well? SPIT IT OUT! What are you deaf?”

He began scratching his face so hard it broke skin, his expression contorted into one of annoyance. You felt your hands tremble and your heart race. that’s all you could hear for a moment, the pounding of your heart.

“You little brat are you—“

You finally found the courage to speak and yet nothing came out.

“Y-you.. y—y-you’re..”

you watched his annoyance turn into an amused grin- showing his razor sharp teeth Off almost like a taunt, he walked over and stood face to face, your eyes widened and you covered your mouth almost instinctively.

“What? Was I right? Never seen someone like me? Are you terrified? Or maybe disgusted?”

He laughed and slapped the top of your head, he’s very heavy handed. You feel your body jolt with shock before he does it again and again, it stings more and more each time he does it.

“Poor girl, having to see someone as hideous as me! You must be terrified, but I bet your like all those other pretty women.. you must have me for being in your very sight! So petrified you can’t even speak!”

He gripped your hair so tightly you felt a few strands break off from your scalp, he forced you to look up at him- he has a sadistic grin on his face, his eyes pierce into yours and you feel your heart beat so hard it feels like someone’s drumming in your chest!

“You’re so handsome!”

You finally squeaked out, you aren’t scared.. you’ve never been more attracted to someone if you’re honest! He’s so— different! You’ve NEVER seen anyone like him! You feel your inner thighs begin to heat up as you stare into his eyes- you must look like a lovesick fool! He looks shocked at your words, his grin fell and he stared at you with furrowed eyebrows- he looked almost offended before he gripped your hair even tighter- somehow he looked even more confused for a moment before releasing your hair- that gave you the chance to quickly slink away! He didn’t even follow you, just stared at your back perplexed.

That night when you finally returned to the Ogimoto House, you rushed to your room and quickly changed into new clothes- you’re drenched in sweat! You’ve never felt so giddy in your entire life.. it feels like you’ve just been blessed by the gods! You want to thank whatever god molded that handsome man and allowed your eyes to be worthy of his gaze personally! You pant as your hands tremble, you stared out the window for almost an hour, hoping to see him again! You finally came to your senses and sat on your bed. you almost died! Well.. having your hair pulled isn’t anything new working as a courtesan, neither is the slapping.. you manage to relax just enough to fall asleep at midnight.

That night your dreams are filled with that demon, it’s so real you can almost feel his heavy hands on you.. trailing down from your neck until they meet your breasts, he’d squeeze and flick your sensitive nipples- making you squeak and gasp before he slid his hands down your nude body, all the way down to you’re soaked pussy.. his fingers flick your sensitive clit before he began to pump his fingers into you, he thrusted them in and out at a painfully slow pace, your tongues meet in a passionate dance- he pulled your face away with a grin before pulling his fingers out of you and began to take off his pants, before his cock could be released from the cruel prison that are blocking the pleasure you crave, you wake up with a frustrated groan.

That day goes by like every other day, you get dressed, clean, tend to clients.. but the entire day you thought of the shark toothed demon, a heat in your loins every time you thought of how his hands felt in your hair. That night you go back to that alley in hopes of seeing him again- dressed in the prettiest kimono you own and the most you’ve ever tried on your makeup- you look gorgeous.

“You trying to mock me, Brat? Show off how beautiful you are and how ugly I am? I bet you’d never give a man like me a second glance huh?”

There he was again.. you felt your heart throb- you don’t think you’ve ever been so infatuated and aroused for someone! You have to stop yourself from reaching out to try and touch him.

“No, No! I’m not trying to mock you I promise! And— did you want me to give you a second glance?”

You teased him, maybe that’s smart? He does look quite shocked.. his face goes back to a frown, you can’t figure out what type of woman he wants- all the men you know just like pretty faces!

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N! And you are..?”

“Gyutaro.”

That’s such a unique name! You’ve never gushed so hard for a man, you’ve also never tried so hard.. you can’t believe how much you’ve grown attracted to him in just one night.

“Y/N.. You know I could eat you, right?”

“I do! But it’d be the most interesting thing to happen to me in years.. and I don’t think you will, maybe you can— but you won’t.”

“Cocky, I hate that.”

“Well, the only eating on me you’ll do won’t be the type you’re thinking.”

He looked confused for a moment before a deep grey blush flashed across his face before he grabbed you by the hair once more and pulled you face to face, a deep frown plastered on his face.

“You’re real bold Yknow? or maybe stupid- probably both! I really hate that.”

You sighed and your eyes trailed down to his pants, you see the unmistakable print of his erection.. he’s so hard his cock is throbbing! He must not have many women crazy enough to start flirting with him, you take a small step closer to him and slide his pants down- Gyutaro eyes widened but he didn’t do anything to stop you, You dropped to your knees as his cock sprung out! Demon cocks are certainly bigger than humans. His cock springs out against your cheek, cum beading at the tip of his cock. He has beautiful black birthmarks along his cock as well. You began kissing each mark before you finally wrapped your lips around his cock, looking up to see his face- it’s almost like that set him off, like his mind registered it as you mocking him.. that’s all he needed to slam his cock down your throat, making you gag and grip his thighs as he started pounding your mouth like a cock sleeve.

“Dirty slut.. how dare yo— mhm..!”

He’s practically drooling, his hands knotted in your hair- forcing you to look up at his face with a hard pull as he pumped his cock down your throat, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head from pleasure. Tears begin to pool in your eyes; you feel his cock forced its way in and out of your throat; your vision begins to blur; although if you could see clearly, you’d see his sadistic grin as he watches you cry in discomfort. He feels his cock throb, and he pushes down as far as he possibly can to release his cum; he basically forced you to swallow as he fell back against a wall, panting and gasping while he released his grip on your hair.

Before you could even try to compose yourself you felt his hands wrap around your hips and your cheek press against a wall. his strong hand grip your hip while his other rips the kimono off your body, leaving you in absolutely nothing. His hand kneaded the soft skin of your ass before he gave it a hard slap, making you gasp while he laughed once more.

“Filthy little whore..”

He whispered that over and over again before he finally began fucking you, his cock almost instantly hit your cervix- not a soft brush against but hard enough to leave a bruise! That made you yelp, he laughed and began thrusting into you at inhuman speeds- the stretch make you feel dizzy with pleasure, your legs begin trembling- your brain was so foggy you barely noticed when he lifted you up so you’d stay still.

“Taro!”

“It’s g— never mind..”

He mumbled as he pounded into you, his strong arms wrapped around your body like a coat - Your head fell back against his shoulder, and your tongue lulled out. You went slack-jawed from pleasure. His heavy pants and low moans pressed against your ear as he rearranged your insides. This went on for what felt like hours before he finally released inside you, his hot cum squirting into your ready womb. You cried out in surprise and opened your eyes in shock. That shock turned into a pleasure gasp when his fingers began circling your aching clit, feeling around it before he began rubbing and teasing it. It didn’t take much effort for your orgasm to follow after his—your body went limp in his arms.

He stayed silent before he dropped you onto the alleyways floor. he pulled his pants back on and stared at your trembling form.

“Maybe you aren’t as bitchy as all the other pretty skanks, Y/N”

He stroked your hair like one would a dog with a long coat, although insulted at first at the “maybe”, but the way he said your name made your stomach flutter. he turned his back to you and left the alleyway, leaving you naked to think back on this entire endeavour, you’ve never cum so hard from just one round.. is it because you like him? Or just because he’s something new? Either way this isn’t an experience you’ll forget anytime soon.

Something tells you this won’t be the last time you meet Gyutaro.

———————————————————————-

#demon slayer smut #smut #demon slayer #reading #gyutaro #kny #kny smut #gyutaro smut #gyutaro x reader #self insert #reader insert #kimetsu no yaiba #the things i’d let him do to me

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tired-biscuit · 2 years

Text

Brother's Approval

Pairing: Kiba Inuzuka/fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ content [minors dni] modern AU and a bit of a crossover. stepcest, stepbrother!kiba, manipulation, infidelity, heavy degrading (seriously, he's a real cunt in this), 69, unprotected sex, creampie, dubcon.

Word count: 9.6k

Masterlist

ayo, special thanks to @sneetsnoot for the peach idea!!

KIBA’S day off isn’t going all that well.

Despite the easy-going setting, the tall brunet feels the exact opposite of laid-back as he attempts to relax at the beach his family had barely managed to persuade him into visiting that hazy Friday afternoon.

Even sitting in the shade doesn’t help. The heat is unbearable and it makes Kiba wonder why on earth he’s even agreed to going out on the hottest day of the year. I mean, he doesn’t even like the beach all that much. Doesn’t enjoy the scorching sun that other people throw themselves under in the same manner he tosses burger patties on a grill, in hopes they’ll catch a tan.

Looking off into the distance with a tightly furrowed brow, trendy Ray-Ban sunglasses hide his amber eyes from view as he brings the icy can of soda, that he’s cracked open only mere moments ago, up to his lips.

He nearly drinks half of the sugary drink in one swig. The high degrees are making him absolutely parched, but the sugar feels nice as it clings to his front teeth in a layer so thin he can lick it right off.

The damp, salt-laced strands of chestnut enticingly hug the sharp curve of his face and stick to his forehead from the swim he’s just taken. He pushes them from his face now, using the movement as a way to release the sudden stiffness his body experiences the moment a shrill shriek of joy resonates throughout the shore. The noise is so high-pitched that it makes his ears hurt. Makes his teeth feel on edge.

Kiba narrows his eyes as he looks at you - the perpetrator that’s causing all this commotion. His bratty little stepsister.

Listening to your little squeaks of ‘Stop!’ and ‘Put me down, Denki! Now!’ is simply unnerving, but seeing them being voiced is even worse. The sole reason Kiba has agreed to coming to the beach with his mom and her boyfriend - soon-to-be husband, is more likely - was to catch a fucking break, and yet here you are: prancing around the shore in your tiny bikini like you own the sand and the waves, conjoined at the hip with your dumbass of a boyfriend and ruining everything like you always do.

The rowdy Inuzuka sighs as he continues to lie on the fluffy towel. His taut muscles gradually slacken back into ease by the time he forces his gaze to fall down to his phone with a subdued grunt; the initial aim to do absolutely nothing but relax once again spoiled by no one other than you.

You just had to bring that dork along, didn’t you? Had to spoil the fun.

He is irked enough as it is, but watching you get picked up and thrown over the shoulder of the idiot he’s disliked from the moment he had laid eyes on him for the first time, makes Kiba outright fume for some fucking reason. Makes his blood boil and his jaw clench so tightly that he can feel his sharp incisors gritting together.

He blames it on work. The air in the workshop has been nothing but burdensome and tense as of late, but this specific week in particular had been the worst by far. He’s worked late into the night, risen early, and has been nagged from all sides for five days in a row.

If anybody would have told him three years ago that he’d have to sift his way through enormous numbers of annoying customers that are way too stingy with their money but still want their cars fixed ASAP, he would have laughed and politely told them to kiss his ass.

Seriously - they’re that bad. Especially the fancy business folk in their eerily clean clothes and carrying their expensive suitcases, who look down on him just because of the work he tends to do. They just have to treat him like shit. Make him all pent-up with rage that he can barely control in the first place because of his inherited anger issues and short temper.

Yes, he might be 'just another' blue-collar worker amongst many, but he is also the reason why their shiny BMWs and Teslas and whatnot stupid cars are running smoothly and operating without any sort of mishaps. So fuck them. And fuck their shitty prejudice, too.

Some days, Kiba swears that he can barely resist the urge of jumping over the counter and strangling them until they’re twitching and done for. And he isn't even into those murder podcasts his ex-girlfriend liked to listen to all the time.

But not everything is all that sour, despite the Karen-like people that get on his nerves and that keep straight up assaulting him at the counter. Still rather young, and thus awfully simple-minded, Kiba really does like working as a car mechanic, he truly does. He likes working with cars and listening to the radio whilst he tends to the vehicles. Enjoys eating burgers and salty French fries from the food stand across the street during his break. Hell, he even likes the smell of gasoline and the sticky feeling the engine grease leaves on his hands. Not to mention that the pay is pretty good as well.

But as of right now, Kiba is clean of grease and smells like salt instead of potent motor oil. His standard work pants have been replaced by a pair of navy blue swimming trunks, the white t-shirt tossed to the side and his tan skin exposed to the warm sea breeze that keeps wafting by. He’s supporting himself with his elbow as he drinks the sugary Coke, knee slightly bent and phone open on a tab that shows a Reddit post that had caught his interest minutes ago but he never quite got to reading properly yet.

He’s tried to, but he's unable to concentrate on the words and their meaning.

After all, the whine you voice sounds closer this time around, and sure enough: when Kiba swiftly lifts his gaze from his phone once more like it’s an automatic response to your calls, he sees you stumbling out of the sea with a pouty frown, hair soaked and skin dewy from droplets of water that glisten in the bright sunlight.

He likes what he's seeing only partially, though. The reason for it might just be your giddy boyfriend, who is trailing right behind your heels as you walk, holding your hand and smiling at you with this huge-ass grin that makes Kiba wish he could knock his front teeth out with his fist.

He doesn’t like looking at Denki all that much. He's loud, too happy all the freaking time, so he rather shifts his attention back to you.

Because unlike the man next to you, you're a pretty little thing to look at; nice on the eyes. Truth be told, Kiba isn’t entirely sure if calling his stepsister pretty is a weird thing to do or not, but it’s what he thinks and he can’t change what he thinks - simple as that.

He also can’t help that he thinks of your tiny bikini as a gift of sorts, nor the fact that he likes how it shows off parts of your body that he doesn’t have a chance to see that often. No, Kiba just drags his gaze all over you because it’s out of his control, because it isn’t his responsibility as he keeps scanning and burning all those pretty parts into memory for whatever reason.

Reasons he’ll surely know by tonight; inside the comforting privacy of his bedroom. As he strokes his dick in that quick-paced, needy sort of way, just like he has a tendency to do, his mind full of you and your stupid tight body he plans to leave his mark upon at least once in this lifetime.

At least once, goddammit.

He tilts his head to the side as he watches, absent-mindedly chewing on the inside of his cheek whilst acknowledging the slight bounce of your tits and how your hips sway with every step you take, all salacious-like. You walk like a tricksy feline - every step confident and so alluring - and his pupils are dilating behind the dark sunglasses; outright growing to the size of dinner plates your stepmother serves before him every night.

But Kiba isn’t a coward. Timidity just isn’t in his blood.

So he pushes the Ray-Bans up as you come closer, letting them rest on the top of his head just so that he can see you even better. And you, god fucking damn it, you smile when you plop down right next to him - even give him a cheeky little wink to top it all off. As if you know exactly what he’s thinking about. As if you’re delighted by the dirty thoughts you invoke in your stepbrother all the fucking time for years on end.

And Kiba - poor, frustrated Kiba - doesn’t realize the look that crosses his face at that exact moment. He smells the salt in your hair and the sunscreen on your skin, but he doesn’t know how his entire expression shifts into something inexplicable because of it. How his body fully stills its movement before it falls into something calm, albeit equally as menacing, as he picks himself up so that he can sit on the towel.

Supporting himself with the flat of his palms, the twenty-three-year-old pushes his chest out like you’re pulling the very last breath from his lungs just with your mere scent alone; preparing him to inhale it for one last time before it brings him to his demise.

God, he wants to ruin you, he’s been wanting to do it for so fucking long. Right on this secluded part of the beach, until you’d both be covered in sweat and you’d be crying as he’d push your face into the grating sand and make you take it. Make you take his big, fat cock in your bed. In his bed. In his car. In the shop he works at. Anywhere, everywhere, anytime, all the time.

But instead of biting into your neck like a wild, untamed animal and making you submit like you’re some damn bitch in heat, Kiba rather sinks his teeth into the peach your father tosses in his direction out of the blue. His right hand shoots up as he catches it swiftly - honed reflexes and all - but it’s like a wake up call. It snaps him right back to reality.

He feels woozy, somewhat. Like his soul isn’t fully nestled inside his body.

“You good, son?” your father asks.

“Yeah.” Kiba blinks and licks his front teeth before he kisses them with a pucker of his lips in sheer annoyance. “M’good.” He isn’t his fucking son.

And you’re not his sister. At least not the one he can’t fuck.

Speaking of his real sister - he’s close with Hana, too. They talk over FaceTime from time to time because she’s moved across the country to finish her studies, but it’s nothing like the connection he shares with you, of course. She’s his blood and you’re not. She doesn’t leer at his firm build, at how big and strong he’s gotten over the years. Doesn’t drool over him like you do whenever he comes home dressed in his work pants; all tired and sighing, chestnut hair tousled as he’s stretching his tired limbs and tipping his head back as he waits for the food to heat up in the microwave late in the evening.

It's just too bad that you turn your head away whenever he looks and drools all over you in return.

Staring at the fruit he’s holding in his hand now, Kiba shakes his head with a sigh. He’s come from being irked, to sexually frustrated, back to being irked all over again. The harsh pat he receives to his shoulder proves to be a subtle warning from his stepfather, who seems to be the only one who has noticed how closer he’s been getting with his stepsibling over the past few years.

It takes a man to recognize the look of yearning on another man’s face, after all. The look of true, potent desire. Of something carnal.

And that look makes your daddy's protective instincts kick in. Makes him not like his stepson all that much.

To be honest, Kiba doesn’t know what your dad is so fucking worried about. They’re just accidental touches and fortuitous close proximity, it’s not like either of you are aiming to make them happen. You don’t plan to put your feet on his lap during movie nights in the living room, it just happens because you’re tired. He doesn’t scheme to rest his lingering gaze on you when you exit the shower wrapped in nothing but your towel, he just makes sure you’re fully finished so that he can go shower as well.

You wearing his t-shirts and hoodies means nothing, and him licking the last bit of ice cream off your spoon isn’t even a thing to consider. Him jerking it off to the sounds of your pathetic, lying moans when Denki slams you on the other side of his bedroom wall doesn’t mean shit. You imagining it’s him on top of you instead of the boisterous blond is just an intrusive thought.

Kiba hates how fake you sound whenever you spread your legs for your stupid boyfriend. He could give it to you so much better, that you’d be moaning for real. He’s older; more experienced. Looks so fine that he’s drowning in pussy, but the only one he wants to pound is yours. Fuck it until you’re crying, begging him to stop. Until you’re full of his cum and he’s pushing it back in, in, in. Filling all of your little holes, making you gasp and sob.

Even his friends had noticed his lack of interest in other girls as of late. How he prefers staying home, playing house, instead of going to parties and making his mind numb with cheap liquor and bad pot like the rest of the group.

Because that way, he gets to see you prance around in your slutty little outfits during the peak of summer when it gets really hot. He gets to see your smooth legs, your nipples poking against the thin top, the way your skirt bounces when you stomp down the stairs to annoy him when he’s watching TV or playing a game.

He is able to see your panties and how plump your cunt looks when you bend over to pick something up - the puffy lips eating up the flimsy cotton every single time. Gets to see just the mere hint of the curve of your ass when you step on your tippy-toes to reach for something on the high shelf of the cupboard and your pretty sundress rises with the movement.

And you know that he looks. You can feel his feverish gaze burning holes into your back and can hear the stifled groan he practically has to swallow down to resist voicing it into the hazy air between you. But it’s the way he readjusts himself that gets you hot; it’s the hard bulge that becomes prominent just underneath the elastic waistband of his grey Nike gym shorts that takes the cake. The way he turns right afterwards, stomps up the stairs and slams the door of his bedroom shut so angrily that the entire house shakes and his mom yells for him to get a fucking grip.

And some nights, when you’re feeling particularly daring and lonely, you even climb into his bed if he’s home just to provoke him further and give him more evidence of what a messed up slut you really are. When the hour is late, Kiba can hear the creak of his door. He feigns sleep when he feels the weight of you right next to him as the mattress dips a couple of padded footsteps later. Can hear the tired sigh as you lift his arm that’s still heavy from sleep, nuzzle your face into his chest and just breathe.

Nothing ever happens. You wake up before him on most mornings, still wrapped tightly in his embrace and leave his room in the same quiet manner you’ve entered it. And that's good, that’s proper, but some sick part of you that’s hidden so, so deep still wishes something did happen.

Especially because you can feel the ridge of his cock poking you through his pyjama bottoms when you go to peel yourself away from him. Feel him pressing against the back of your thigh and the curve of your ass; all thick and heavy, hips slowly rolling by pure instinct in his sleep. And knowing how big he is, how hard he is just for you - his little sister - it drives you nuts. Turns you absolutely insatiable.

It feels like you’re drugged when he refuses to let you go. As that strong, muscular arm tightens its hold around your middle; thick fingers digging into your t-shirt, just mere inches away from slipping under but never quite doing so. It’s like he’s refusing to let you run away from him even in his slumber, making you outright have to force your way out of his bed before your parents could find you like this.

‘Bonding’, Tsume tends to call it. In truth, she’s just happy that the constant fights that had ensued between you during the first couple of years of sharing a household are done and over with. That the phase of her son acting up as a troublesome teenager, and her stepdaughter being a confused pre-teen just entering that point of her life is at long last finished.

But your father thinks otherwise. Sure, you might be nineteen now and Kiba is well on his way towards his mid-twenties, but he still thinks of the peace that has surprisingly settled between you as something filthy and improper. So much so, that he is even hesitant to leave you both alone to watch the bags as Tsume and Denki call after him to join them for another swim.

“It’s okay, dad. Really.” You grin, stretching out your legs on your own towel, “Kib and I will watch over the stuff. Go have fun, I think Denki wants to impress you with his swimming skills.”

It isn’t a lie at least. A truth good enough to soothe your father’s worries for a short while. You’re in public, after all.

And now - sitting completely alone with your big brother - it is your turn to leer. Staring amusedly, your own teeth find solace in chewing on your plump bottom lip as you watch the curve of his Cupid’s bow touch the ripe fruit. He opens his mouth slowly: the sharp canines he’s inherited from your stepmother puncturing the skin before it gives in and finally lets him in.

You don’t know why on earth watching him eat a damn peach is making your stomach tighten with heat and your thoughts aimless, but you suppose that it’s something in the way his mouth moves. In the way you can see just a mere hint of his pink tongue as he laps up a droplet of nectar before it becomes too much and it overflows.

And you just can’t help yourself, no matter how hard you try. The moment the sugar dribbles down his chin, you’re reaching forward; wiping it off of his jaw with the tip of your finger.

“Sorry,” you say. “You had a bit of peach juice there.”

“Thanks.” He doesn’t look at you when he expresses the gratitude, but he doesn’t have to. You can see the flutter of a muscle in his cheek as you swipe your thumb over the corner of his mouth. Even the cords within his neck turn stiff at the touch.

“You’re so messy,” you continue softly, pulling your hand back after a moment too long for it to be considered fully platonic. You want to lick the damn sugar off your finger pad. Share the peach. But you do neither of those things, because you’re in public and you’ve already risked enough. Your father is close by and watching - you know he is. Just like your boyfriend.

Oh. Right… You have a boyfriend.

“Yeah, I am, aren’t I?” Kiba pushes the sunglasses back onto his eyes before taking another bite. He chews, nice and slow; fighting back the ghost of a smirk as he looks at the waves. “‘m so fuckin’ sloppy, huh?”

Sloppy. The word sounds so dirty albeit just as appealing when he says it. “Yeah…” Your spit tastes thick in your mouth now. Why does he have to be so blatant about it? So provocative? “Definitely sloppy.”

“Mhmmm.” He turns to look at you as he bites into the peach again. As he sucks the sweet juice into his mouth and grins right afterwards when he sees you looking. “Can’t help it… It is what it is, lil’ sis.”

Your heart is pounding from the desire for him to pound you. “I don’t mind.”

“I know you don’t.”

He sounds so self-assured; so smug. Like he knows exactly what’s cooking inside your mind at that moment. Did he see the texts you’ve exchanged with your best friend about him? No, there is no way - your phone is locked and he doesn’t know the code. So, he’s probably just messing with you. Pulling you on some sick joke he finds amusing, like he always does. Just to bully you, despite the ceasefire between you.

Still, your breath hitches as you murmur, “You know?”

He perks up at the submissive tone you voice. Tips his chin down so that he can look at you above the edge of the sunglasses. He literally ogles at you now, and his eyes are just so fucking dark when they meet your own - the darkest shade you’ve ever seen him have as he says, “Yeah… I know.”

To others, the private little exchange between you and your stepbrother might seem like nothing odd at all. They’d look at you and think that the brief smile he gives you and the wide-eyed look you give him in return are nothing more but a sign of taunting teasing between two rivalrous siblings.

But they don’t feel the tension like you two do. Don’t recognize the buzz that vibrates between you right after his smile fades and your look turns doe-eyed, and how it makes both of your faces warm and your skin riddled with flashes of sticky sweat.

They don’t know anything.

—

It unexpectedly starts to rain when you get back home from the beach. By night-time, the thunderstorm is at its peak.

And you, you’ve wound up in your big brother’s bed again the moment you’ve said goodnight to your boyfriend over the phone, but this time under the pretense that you’re scared of the thunder and lightning that cracks and whips on the dark sky that haunts you on the other side of his window.

The glass nearly rattles from how strong the gusts of wind are. In truth, you find the weather comforting, but any excuse works if you get to sleep with your stepbrother; even if you have to deduce yourself to a role of the scared little girl because of it.

The alarm clock on his nightstand flashes 2:03 in the morning as you do your routine of lifting his arm and slipping under the thin duvet to squeeze close to him a moment after. As you entangle your limbs with his longer, stronger ones and just breathe.

You manage to get one breath in. Two. Three. By the time you finish the fourth, you’re so dazed by how good he smells that you almost fail to realize that something isn’t quite the same this time around.

But the hushed, derisive snicker your big brother lets out into the dark tells you all you need to know.

He’s awake this time. Still a bit tipsy from the couple of beers he’s had with your dad as they watched the football game before bed - you’ve seen him head to his room with a rather droopy grin and a slurred ‘G’night, sis.’.

Which also means he’s braver now. Willing to take the risk.

“Now what’s this, mm?” Kiba’s voice is deep, the drawl lazy and seemingly nonchalant as he rests his chin on top of your head and pulls you so, so close. The alcohol that’s still feebly coursing his veins dulls out his sense of morality. Expands the limits. “Wanna tell your big brother what you’re doin’ in his bed this late at night?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you admit quietly, goosebumps forming over the skin he touches and leaves burning in his wake. “It’s storming outside.” Dread trickles down your neck as you say it.

“Mhmm,” he hums in acknowledgement of the thundering weather outside, smiling into your hair. He loves it whenever you come to him. Loves it that he doesn’t even have to lift a finger, and you’ll come running straight into the open arms of your dear big brother. His whisper is shiver-inducing as he says, “You scared?”

“Yeah.” It’s true, you are scared. Not because of the storm, though. Rather because of him and how touchy he’s getting; tired mind intoxicated by beer and you.

“Yeah?”

God, the way he says the word is so enticingly patronizing. It nearly makes you drip from how quick the coil inside your stomach tightens with it. How fast your insides turn to mush as heat spills, especially when he bends his knee and pushes it right between your legs.

He doesn’t even give you a warning, but perhaps it’s better this way. I mean, why should he have to admit to doing dirty things to his little sister?

You gasp at the sudden pressure. Squirm as the seam of your flimsy pyjama shorts rubs against your clit as he pushes even higher up until you’re practically straddling his thigh. “H-Hey...”

His fingers tangle into your hair before he presses your face against his chest to shut you up. You can hear his steady heartbeat hammering against your ear. The sound is rhythmic, but instead of calming you, it causes you to feel all the more on edge. This isn’t what you expected.

Yes, it is what you wanted, but are you truly ready to give into your desires? To finally admit that you’re attracted to your stepbrother? That you want to feel full with his cock, to feel the stretch, to experience his body do wonders to your own as he proves to you that all the jokes he exchanges with his stupid friends whenever they come over aren’t just talk? To cheat on your boyfriend, who you got into a relationship with just to forget about your big brother in the first place?

Kiba doesn’t care, or perhaps he doesn’t want to care enough to know the answer. No, he’s drunk and needy; hot and bothered because you’re here, in his bed, dressed in nothing but a tank top and a pair of tiny shorts. So he lets his fingers hook around the edge of your jaw as he tips it up to make eye contact. And as soon as your eyes meet his own glazed over ones, he smiles into the dark.

It’s the horniest grin you’ve ever seen. He’s so close to you that you can see his sharp teeth glint when the lightning flashes across the sky and splashes some light into his room.

“What,” he says now, his rough palm resting on your pulse point. Your heart is thudding so fast against his finger pads that he can’t help but snort. “What is it?”

Your hands press against his broad chest as you try to catch your breath and steady yourself. Curling your trembling digits, you’re grabbing hold of his t-shirt when he moves his leg to make you feel more friction against your poor cunt. The stimulation isn’t as profound as you’d like it to be over the two layers you’re hiding your pussy underneath, but it’s the fact that it comes from your goddamn stepbrother that makes it so intense.

You try to pull back, but his massive hand slaps against your leg; fingers greedily digging into the fat of your thigh as he bends it at the knee and hooks it over his hip to bring you even closer together.

“A-ah,” he chuckles darkly, applying force to keep you still. “Where d’you think you’re goin’, princess? Not planning on running off, are ya?”

No, you’re not going anywhere. He lets you know it with his actions, with the way he shows his true colours that prove how goddamn possessive an Inuzuka can become if provoked for long enough. You’ve come here completely by your own free will, after all. Have entered the beast’s den by your own choice. He didn’t make you do it.

He didn’t make you wear those skimpy outfits around him. Didn’t force you to smile all coy-like and flutter your eyelashes whenever he’s around. Didn’t coax you into bending over and just teasing the fuck out of him for literal years.

But he is going to make you do other things now. Filthy, nasty things.

And he is going to make you stay until you’re too fucked-out to even pick yourself up from his bed. Until you’re too tired to walk all the way to your room. Too exhausted to tell on him to your father, who had felt bad for judging him so quickly back at the beach, and thus had spent some quality father-son bonding time by drinking some beers and watching the football game Kiba couldn’t give two shits about.

“Kiba,” you whisper your brother’s name, biting back a quiet whimper when his hand trails up and hikes the hem of your shorts up. As quick as the touch is, he pulls back to sneer down at you just as fast. You’re about to let out a sigh of relief, but all that comes out of your mouth instead is a hushed squeal when he smacks your ass and squeezes the plush flesh - all hard and impatient and so potently male, that it makes your eyes blow wide-open up at him in pure shock.

The pang of ache that shoots through you makes your voice shake as you whisper-shout, “St-Stop that!”

“What’re you gonna do if I don’t?” he questions, voice all smug and mean. “Gonna tell on me to your daddy? Gonna tell him how your big brother smacked your ass because you kept sneaking into his room whenever your pussy got wet?”

“I-I’m gonna tell Denki! And I’m not-... I’m not, fuck…!” You can’t believe the disgusting words that are coming out of his mouth. Aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol talking through him, or if he really is that sick of a bastard underneath all that fierce, warm persona that convinced you to bury the hatchet in the first place.

He must be, because now he smacks your ass for a second time. Makes it burn with an ache you’ve never experienced before, and makes you thankful for the raging thunderstorm outside that dulls out the noise it causes. Because if your parents found you like this… You’d be a goner. Disowned by the family - the both of you.

“What’s that dunce gonna do, huh? He can’t even fuck you right… Can’t even make you cum properly.” He laughs now; a huffed, mocking sort of sound as he looks at you, all complacent. “You think I can’t hear those fake moans you keep lettin’ out whenever he swings by? You sound worse than the whores on my PC. But you’re not a whore, are you? You’re nice and tidy, good in school, never late to cheerleading practice. A proper good girl that wants to cum just as properly, but can’t because her idiot boyfriend doesn’t know how to make her cum.”

You’re speechless. Absolutely numb from the fever that’s overtaking your body as he pushes his weight against you and makes you lay flat on your back. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist when his hand finds your throat. He gives it a firm squeeze as he talks. Makes you close your eyes shut as you try to inhale a shallow breath.

You can’t focus; he’s just so hard as he rubs himself against you. When he leans in, the heat of his body is so intense that it nearly makes your skin sizzle as his cock languidly rubs against your clothed pussy. It makes your hole clench around nothing. Makes your walls flutter with the demand of being stroked.

“I can, though. I know how to make a good girl like you cum. And it’s what you want, isn’t it? Your mean brother’s cock in that little cunt of yours, stretching you out… Makin’ you spill everything you’ve got, before he does the same.” He’s so close to you that the narrow space between your bodies is nearly non-existent. He’s big; massive. He covers your smaller frame entirely whilst on top of you, shoulders broad and tense as they flex above you before he dips in to press his mouth almost against your own.

The proximity makes you feral. You angle your head to reach him better, but all he does is smirk as the tip of your nose touches his own.

“Aww, you wanna kiss me, now? What on earth happened to ‘stop’?” The snicker he lets out when you try to kiss him is so taunting that it makes your head spin with hurt. Especially as he releases your throat to pat your cheek roughly. “Tell you what, I’ll kiss you if you suck my cock first. How does that sound?”

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat at how inexplicably lewd he’s getting. Does he really want that? His little sister’s mouth around his dick; sucking, drooling, pleasuring? Or is he just messing with you again, trying to force a reaction out of you just for the fun of it?

You need to ask him. Need to know. “Are you serious right now? You really want me to… To…”

“Mhmm.” He nearly purrs as he hums, his voice so quiet that it sends electricity buzzing right through your brain. “And if you do a good enough job, I’ll lick you in return, too.” He leans into your ear, his warm exhale brushing your earlobe as he adds, “I’ll lick you all over, sis. I promise.”

Your big brother is a bully when he shows the side of him you’ve forgotten he owned over the years of faux peace. He’s exactly what he was when you were younger and hating each other: manipulative, mean, a pain in the ass, but now with the addition of being fucking hot. So fucking hot, in fact, that you become aroused as he looks down at you and sneers at the dumbfounded expression that crosses your face, all smug and egocentric-like. Especially when his large hands wrap around your hips and his thumbs slip underneath the waistband of your shorts.

“Or, y’know,” he says, a suggestive lilt to his voice as he starts tugging at the fabric, “we could save up on time and do both at once?”

“Both at… Once?”

“You deaf or something?” He sighs at the dazed expression you portray and clicks his tongue against his teeth, “Tsch. I want you to sit on my face, dummy.”

Oh, lord. He talks about it like he’s scheduling a meeting with his clumsy assistant, and not the possibility of doing 69 with his stepsibling.

But it’s thrilling in a way. How confident he is in himself and how unashamed he is about what he wants. Your voice is merely a squeak of approval because of it as you say, “Well, o-okay.”

You don't even try to fight it.

Kiba grins. He’s perfect when he smiles, he always is. “Good girl. Now let’s get you naked before I lose my fuckin’ patience. Wanna taste you on my tongue already... I've waited for ages.”

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ.

He works quickly, showing you no respect whatsoever as he changes his mind and takes off your shirt first. Your tank top hasn’t even hit the floor yet and his hand is already exploring your bare chest; calloused fingertips flicking and pinching your nipples before dipping down to trace the curve of your breasts.

He chuckles at the way your chest heaves with the touch, mind buzzing with improper thoughts from seeing your upper half naked for the very first time. He’s staring down at your tits all hungry, like a wild animal of sorts. Making you insecure and self-conscious about your appearance.

Your cheek presses into the pillow that smells just like him as you attempt to hide yourself. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Fuck no.” His voice becomes deeper as he refuses your plea, breathing turning slightly shallower, “I’m looking ‘cause you’re hot as fuck, princess. Your loser boyfriend is one lucky man for getting to see this all the time, so quit whining.”

Something inside you lights up at the praise that he’s hidden underneath all the meanness, but you’re simply too dazed to think about your lovely boyfriend you’re cheating on and that he insists on mentioning to make you feel bad. Too overwhelmed from the way he begins to kiss your collarbone before moving even lower.

He has to cover your mouth when you start to whimper as soon as his tongue swirls around your nipple and he sucks it into his mouth. He suckles on it, all warm and skilled, making you arch your back and find purchase in his hair with your trembling fingers as your whimpers turn into muffled moans behind his palm.

And he - he groans when you run your digits along his scalp and tug on the chestnut strands with intricate fervour. The sound that leaves his throat is so masculine and deep that it makes your chest vibrate as he latches his mouth to you again and sucks even harder in response. Every single time his incisor pokes the sensitive bud, your pussy clenches around nothing. It’s pure torture.

You’re unable to think straight. All you can think about is him. Him, him, him. And because of it, you simply let him do what he wants. You allow him to manhandle you into the 69 position with those rough hands of his, tossing and turning you like you’re a toy of sorts until you find yourself on top of him; body completely bare and cunt exposed right above his face.

He laughs, now. “You’re drippin’.”

He says it like it’s a bad thing - in that mocking, derisive sort of tone that he’s an expert at using around you. It makes your waterline sting with tears of embarrassment as your hands rest on the hardness hiding underneath his sweatpants. “I-I’m sorry.” Fuck, he’s so big. You’re scared to pull it out.

“Why?” His finger traces your wet slit as you try to free him from the confines of his clothes, despite your jittery nerves telling you no. The squelching sounds from how wet you are, are so indecent that you’re barely able to focus on what you’re doing.

Your face is burning up and you feel dizzy from all the dirty things he’s doing to you. From how he’s spreading your slick all over your puffy pussy and making sure you hear how fucking wet you are for him. “For… Nnh, for being like this.”

“You’re sorry for being filthy?” He pauses for a second before he snickers at the way you jump when he presses his thumb against your clit and rubs it. “For getting drenched for your big brother?”

“Yes, I’m sorry for all of that. Ah, s-so sorry, Kib…!” Your legs are trembling and you’re turning into a panting mess from how he touches you now. Especially when you feel him press a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.

“It’s all right,” Kiba says. “I’m just as fucked in the head as you are. No need to cry ‘bout it.”

Your eyes are squeezing shut, a silent ‘Fuck!’ leaving your lips when his mouth makes contact with your soft cunt a moment afterwards. As his warm tongue laps up the sugary slick and you’re sent burying your face into the bulge you’ve never succeeded in pulling free, now in a weak attempt to fight back the most animalistic moan you’ve ever managed to produce.

You try to pay him back with clumsy groping and eager fondling. Try to concentrate on pleasuring the hardness that must certainly ache by now, despite that his hands are wrapping around your hips and he’s pushing you down; making your thighs tremble and your legs turn to jelly as his tongue starts prodding at your sopping hole.

But you simply can’t concentrate. Can’t focus enough to give him a proper blowjob when you finally do manage to pull his cock free from his sweatpants and boxers. And Christ, he’s so big. Throbbing, hot and so hard. All for you - his little stepsister. You can feel every vein as you drag your tongue along his length. As you grab him with both dainty hands and wrap your mouth around the sensitive head.

You can feel his fingers tighten around your hips by the time the salt of his pre-cum finishes melting on your tongue. You know damn well that he wants to say something bitchy and be a smartass about you taking so damn long to do it, but you just take him deeper down your throat to shut him up. Suck him harder.

And the feral groan he lets out right afterwards is like a reward. You relish the little whimper he voices when you start to pump and drool all over his dick, coating every inch with glimmering saliva. When you begin to suck him like a proper slut.

Time passes. What started with meek kitten licks has now turned into a full whorish blowjob, and you just know that he’s loving it. So much, in fact, that he’s quiet and keeps his witty remarks all to himself. It’s a blessing of sorts.

You’re nearly shuddering above him from how good he is at spoiling your clit. How every laggard swipe of his tongue feels like you’re touching heaven. He’s teasing you, not allowing you to cum; constantly keeping you leaning over the edge, but never quite tipping over. It’s like he knows when you’re close. Knows when to slow down his pace just enough to keep you there without going all the way.

You wonder why, wonder why he isn’t letting you erupt into pure bliss when he’s so good. And the answer is simple:

He wants you to cum on his cock the first time around.

So when minutes pass and he’s had enough, and you’re slobbering all over his dick; lazily sucking on it with slow movements of up and down and tasting him all over, he pushes you off with the lewdest ‘pop!’ and makes you roll onto your back and bend your knees until you’re lying down with both of your legs propped on top of his shoulders.

You’re wide-eyed as you stare up at him, trying to catch your breath. He’s so messy, your arousal coats his chin and mouth as he pants, t-shirt clinging to his torso, sweatpants just barely clinging to his hips, hair all askew and wild. He’s got one hand wrapped around your ankle, the other on your thigh.

You try not to let out a sound when he applies force to make you slide down the mattress so that he can pull you closer, but a tiny gasp still slips the moment he aligns himself with you.

“Enough of that,” he mumbles, expression stern, “I wanna fuck now.”

“Fu-Fuck…?”

“Yeah.” He squeezes your cheeks - his palm nearly larger than your face - and makes your lips purse. “Focus, airhead. What did you think would happen?”

What a savage brute. He hasn’t even fingered you properly yet and he wants to fuck? How the hell are you supposed to stretch wide enough to accept that enormous cock of his? Better yet, how are you supposed to handle it moving in and out of you?

“Condom,” you whisper dazedly, fingers curling around the bed sheet as you try to lift yourself up with the help of your elbows. “We need a condom. I’m not on-”

“It’s okay, I’ll pull out.” He presses his hand to your chest to push you back down on the mattress. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“Kiba, I don’t think-”

“Shut up.” You blink profusely at the sudden demand, pouty mouth quivering as he makes your legs bend even further when he leans in and presses his hand right next to your head. He kisses your calf, your ankle. “I’m your big brother… If I wanna fuck you raw, you should fuckin’ let me.”

You can feel him nudging your tight hole. Feel how wet, drenched and sticky everything is. How much it arouses you. And yet, you still try to put up a fight, despite that your toes are curling, “Kiba, I-I-...”

“Let me fucking in, y/n,” he says. “I mean, it’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”

Are you? You have no other choice. He’s just too good at reading you. So you do what he asks of you - what he demands of you.

You let him in.

And he laughs - laughs this awful, manipulative sort of snicker as he feels your soft cunt gush milky slick and suck him in. As he relishes yet another win, because he’s older, stronger; prevalent. The superior sibling that could turn your life into living hell if he wanted to.

“You’re so fucked up,” he whispers as he lets your legs slip from his shoulders to his waist so that he can rest his forehead against your own. He’s staring into your eyes, boring right into your very soul with that swirling amber as he adds quietly, “You’ll do anything just to get fucked by your big brother, huh?”

“Kiba, s-stop it.” You whine when he pushes in deeper; as he makes you burn in the middle from how he’s splitting you open. “Just… Stop.”

“What if your daddy hears? Hears you moaning like a lil’ slut ‘cause of me?” His pupils are so big, but you can’t keep looking at him because of how much it hurts from the way he sinks into your warmth and bottoms out. From how overwhelming it is as he stays firmly in place, making you take it. “I mean, shit, I’m not scared of him. But I know you are. He thinks you’re this godsend of a daughter, when in reality you’re just as dirty as me.”

“Stop talking…!” Your eyes burn with tears as you glare up at him. You don’t know if it’s because of the pleasure you feel as he stretches you out, or because of how badly he hurts you with his words.

“He’d be so disappointed in you if he saw you like this. Your boyfriend, too,” he continues, paying no mind to the way you start to squirm underneath him. “But that’s fine, right? The only thing that matters is that I approve of you. Even though it turns you into a cheating whore, hah.”

He forces you to look at him the same moment you try to turn away because of the guilt to flash throughout you. His hand finds your cheek, fingers digging deep into the soft flesh. You’re trying to fight against him, and you’re ashamed to admit it, but your heart flutters when he kisses you. When he forces his tongue inside your mouth so deep that you can taste yourself and you fall into this wonderfully submissive stillness in mere seconds.

He’s looking down at you now, the corners of his lips twitching from how into it you are, feeling his chest swelling up with pride and arrogance. He’s toxic, Kiba knows it, but he just can’t stop pouring his frustrations upon you that have gathered over the years. You’re like his personal punching bag. You’ll take anything he throws at you just because it’s from him.

“Feels good?” he whispers as he pulls back to kiss your neck. To trace his tongue all over your pulse point before sucking on it lightly. He’s promised that he’ll lick you all over, after all. Even if it leaves marks.

“Mhmmm,” you manage, completely out of breath from the way he slowly draws his hips back just to pummel them back into you even harder than before. It’s just missionary, the position rather vanilla, but it’s fucked up because you can see his face during it. You can kiss him and see all of him - your stepbrother.

And he feels just so heavy inside you. So thick and hot that it makes you incapable of speaking coherently. He’s got this dazed look on his face, the one only a warm cunt can give to a man, and you’re feeling absolutely obsessed because of it. Absolutely feral.

“I wanna fuck you until you can’t stand properly, princess,” he says quietly. “Until that cute pussy of yours is hurting so bad that you’re walkin’ funny and you can’t sit like a normal person during dinner. I want your dad looking weird at you. I want your stupid boyfriend getting suspicious of us.”

“No… K-Kiba...”

“I want that dunce to smell me on you the next time he fucks you.” His thrusts are getting harsher as he keeps whispering the most outrageous things into your panting mouth, fighting back a smile at the way you’re beginning to claw at his t-shirt in protest.

“No!”

“Yes. I want him to know your stepbrother fucks you better than him.”

You want to moan, to scream - do anything to release this pent-up fire within your veins, but he keeps you quiet by kissing you deep every single time you try to make a sound.

More time passes. He never stops or goes easy on you during it.

Both of your bodies are drenched in sweat. His thrusts are getting jerky, irregular. He’s been fucking you for nearly an hour, changing positions, melting his body into your own, reaching deeper than anyone ever has before.

And you feel so bad inside your mind for letting him do all of this, but your body feels twice as good as he does it. You’re burning up, all warm and tingly, toes curling, every cell absolutely spent as you keep clenching around him and leaking milky slick.

The first orgasm that he pulled out of you made you see stars. The second had made your jaw slacken as he fucked you from behind so hard you became one with the mattress and lost yourself, until he had to pat your cheek to bring you back to him.

By the third climax, you’re so, so tired. And he knows it, but he still makes you take more. Makes you take him entirely as he looks up at you and flashes you the most charming smile, even though he’s forcing you to ride him. Every muscle within your legs burns whilst you’re bouncing up and down his cock, but you try to endure the ache just so that he’ll be happy with you.

And you can tell that he’s close. His upper lip keeps quivering slightly and his dick is throbbing inside you; you swear that you can feel it getting hotter as it keeps stroking your sensitive walls.

It’s time you slipped off of his lap. Went down on him and swallowed every last droplet of cum he’ll give you.

Except that he doesn’t let you do that.

“Did I tell you to stop?” His hands find purchase on your hips when you try to pull back. He gives them a squeeze. Makes you keep bouncing as he gives you that same mischievous smile from before.

You’re growing nervous. The nerves make your muscles clench, thus making him groan in delight. “K-Kiba, you’re gonna-”

“Yeah… I changed my mind.” He looks at you, eyes dark. “Imma fill you up, pretty.”

His statement makes your mouth dry. What?!

“You can’t,” you cry out the moment realization hits, voice all hushed and petrified. “Y-You can’t, I’m not on the pill, Kiba. You can’t…!”

“Shh, I’ll drive you to the pharmacy first thing in the morning, yeah? I promise. Now keep quiet.”

“No, no, no, I-”

He uses force when you try slipping off of him, taking advantage of his strength to overpower you as he grips your hips and pushes you back into the mattress. You’re attempting to get away from him so feverishly now, trying to push him back by pressing your hands against his jaw and cheek, but he just won’t budge. He just grabs a hold of your wrists with one hand, clamps your mouth shut with the other.

“You’re gonna be a good little sister and take the load your brother gives you, ‘kay?” He’s nearly delirious from how good your pussy feels as it tightens around him and tries to milk him dry as he pushes in so deep he bullies your womb. “Mm, see? You’re cumming just thinkin’ ‘bout it, hah… You want my kids, or somethin’? Want me to breed you? Imagine how fucked up that would be… Hah.”

“N-No, m’not… Kiba! Kiba, please, I-...! I can’t-”

“Stop… Telling me… What I can and can’t… Do. For fuck’s sake, shut up.”

He doesn’t listen. What he does, though, is let out that delightful sigh as he uses you as his very own cocksleeve and forces you to bring him to his finish by pushing you up and down his dick. He rolls his eyes back and grunts in the same way your boyfriend has a habit of doing as he forces those thrusts out and tips over the edge. As he groans the sickest of profanities and feels his balls tighten until he’s finally done; filling you up to the brim, coating you entirely white with his thick, warm seed even though you’ve told him not to.

It makes it all the sweeter just because of that reason alone.

And you’re trembling underneath him, eyes closed as your own orgasm hits you. As you feel your tummy clench along with your walls, accepting every drop his cock gives you as it keeps twitching inside you. And he can’t stop moving. He’s lazily pushing it all in, pushing his cum even deeper like he actually wants you to get pregnant with his kid - his hand hard on your cheek and his mouth panting right against your neck.

“So good, fuck… You’re so good. We gotta get our parents to separate so that I can show you off.”

But the moment he lets you go and slips out of you, you’re pushing him away. Tears turn you bleary-eyed as you grab your clothes and put them on as hastily as you can, despite that your entire body is aching and screaming in protest. Despite that you're stumbling to the door with shaky legs and leaking his goddamn cum.

“Leaving so soon?” He’s smiling as he rubs at his eye, running a tired hand through his damp hair. “No cuddles?”

“Fuck you,” you say, sniffling and choking back the tears as you pull on your underwear.

He snorts, the sound derisive. Smug. “You just did.”

“I hate you.”

“Sure you do. So much that you came just now, right?”

He never gets to hear your answer. You’re out of his room before you can jump him and claw his fucking eyes out.

—

The only promise Kiba has kept so far is the pharmacy one.

His eyes are hidden behind the sleek sunglasses once more as he waits for you in front of the building that Saturday morning. He’s got one ankle leisurely crossed over the other whilst he stands; leaning against the hood of his car and smoking a cigarette that you hate the smell of.

Approaching him like this makes you feel like the whole thing never even happened at all. Some part of you thinks you’ve just imagined it all, but the soreness you feel all over your body tells you otherwise. As well as the morning-after pill you take right in front of him so that he’s satisfied.

“What’s this?” He yanks the small paper bag from your hands and pushes you away when you try to grab it back from him.

“I-It’s nothing. Hey, give that back!”

Kiba chuckles when he opens the bag and sees the box of protection you’ve bought along with the pill before he shoves it back into your arms. “You wanna tell me somethin’, sis?” You want more?

Heat engulfs your face as you hang your head and drop your gaze to the ground. “No.” Yes.

“Aha... Fine with me.” He takes one last drag of the cigarette before tossing it with a flick of his fingers. “Wanna get some ice cream? I’m off work today.”

“No.”

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“C’mooon, I’ll pay.”

Silence meets him. And then a meek, “... Fine.”

Kiba’s grin is so big it takes up half of his face as he ruffles your hair. “Good girl. Tell you what, I'll let you get any topping you want if you let me bend you over your desk tonight.”

And you know it’s fucked up, but your big brother's approval just makes you tingle all over again as you give him a curt nod.

#kiba x reader #kiba inuzuka #kiba smut #kiba x you #kiba x y/n #naruto smut

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catpriciousmarjara · 8 months

Text

DP X DC

Ao3

The Job Offer

"And why not you?", said the man. "You're intelligent, skilled, and adaptable. Most importantly, you're entertaining. That last part becomes very important when dealing with my kind".

A ring glinted in the dim light as he gestured with his hands. "Plus, there wouldn't be any danger in the first place! Our lot tend to stick to the Rules, you see? And not harming the messenger is most certainly a Rule".

A sip of coffee. Eyes filling with mirth.

"In the off chance that someone did take offence, all you have to do is amuse them for a while, and as I said, you're very good at that. But don't worry, they won't take offence".

Dick Grayson, attention still half focused on the vicious black claws on the man's hand, had to ask, "And why won't they?"

The man's pleasant smile didn't falter. But it did slowly morph into a grin with way too many teeth to be normal. The young vigilante had to suppress a shudder.

When the man?it spoke, the voice resonated. "Because you'll be one of mine. And they won't dare touch what's mine".

The teeth gleamed.

And just as abruptly as it shifted, the air changed, the pressure lifted, and the man was smiling once more.

Dick was left off-footed and tightly clutching the arms of his chair, his breath fogging in the still frigid air. He hadn’t even noticed the temperature dropping.

He looked at the man nonchalantly sitting across from him as if he hadn't just taken years off of Dick's life. The vigilante was not one to scare easily. Yet, mere moments ago, Dick had felt a fear so primal that it was maddening. It was not the kind of fear a human being could evoke, no matter how frightening their actions may be. Dick had seen the worst of Gotham, and Gotham was a cesspit on a good day. But he hadn't ever felt like this before today. If there was ever a question about the humanity of his companion before...well it was answered now.

To be honest, he couldn't quite recall how he got here in the first place. Everything was a blur.

No...not quite. His memories were alright, it's just that his mind couldn’t grasp them.

And every second in this...space, had felt muted. As though he was lying beneath several layers of sheer fabric; he could somewhat feel things, see things, but his senses were muffled.

The spike of fear from before wasn't him breaking through as much as he was allowed to break through, and now he was safely back beneath the dampening cloud once more. It was almost comforting.

Dangerous.

Dick only remembered what had happened in bits and pieces. Being fired from Robin, the legacy he had forged for himself, named after his mother's love, and garbed in Grayson colours.

Being angry and distraught. Not knowing what to do.

It had taken him weeks to reorient himself. A month to gather his composure.

He vaguely recollected a cafe in Jump City. He had been sitting in a booth, contemplating his options...

Someone had sat right across from him, right?

He had looked up…

“Hello. May I sit here?”

“...Sure. Go ahead.”

“Daniel Nightingale.”

“...Richard Grayson.”

" I know. You shouldn’t give out your name so freely by the way. Also, could I have a bit of your time?"

"Um...yeah, sure?"

“Perfect!”

And the next thing he knew, he was Here.

Wherever here was.

(Why had he said yes then? He would never have done that normally.)

At first his mind had been adamant in believing that here was the very same cafe he had been sitting in. But Dick wasn't trained by the man known as the World's Greatest Detective for nothing. However, it had taken him an embarrassing few moments to start noticing the abnormalities.

For one thing, he had been sitting in a booth in a cafe, not at an ornate wooden table, much like the one in Bruce's home office. The only thing the cafe table and this one had in common was that they were both rectangular.

Secondly, their table was covered by a veil. A huge gauzy one hanging from above. But try as he might he couldn't see where it was hanging from, just a yawning darkness.

Finally, he could see shadows moving beyond the veil, and the more he looked, the more bizarre they became. And at one point, the shadows lost all pretence of humanity. They weren't even humanoid, let alone human.

He definitely wasn't in Jump City anymore.

It had taken him even longer to notice the man sitting across him. That he hadn’t left this Daniel Nightingale behind.

Wispy white hair.

"Ah! You noticed so quickly. You really are the perfect fit for the job!"

Green. green eyes.

"Apologies for the veiling. It's necessary however.., some things are not just meant for mortal eyes, you see. Without it, you might just go insane! We wouldn't want that now would we?"

Unnaturally pale skin.

"Enough dillydallying! But first, introductions. You may call me either Daniel or Nightingale. By what name would you prefer to be called?”

Something about that question made the ex-Robin’s hindbrain pay attention. The wording of it, the tone…

You shouldn’t give out your name so freely by the way.

Could I have a bit of your time?

Something had felt incredibly off, so he had gone ahead and given one of the alternate names he had been thinking of taking up now that Robin was over.

“You may call me Nightjar.”

Nightingale had looked incredibly pleased then. And a bit smug too.

“Let me cut to the chase then Nightjar. I’m here to offer you a job. You’re a perfect fit for the role. We offer excellent compensation, and flexible work hours. Considering you’re out of work now that you’ve been fired from Robin, I believe my offer would be interesting for you.”

For some reason, perhaps because of all the strange things that happened, the fact that Nightingale seemed to know his alter ego hadn’t surprised Dick. Instead of asking how he came to know about this particular information, including the fact that he got fired, he decided to keep the conversation rolling on this supposed job offer. He had an inkling that he won’t get anywhere even if he asked, so might as well mine some information by making the other man talk.

“What kind of job is it? And what exactly would be included in the compensation?”

In response the man had snapped his fingers, and produced a file out of nowhere. He opened it, turned it around and slid it across the table. Dick started. Nightingale made a go ahead gesture, a smile on his lips once more. Dick gingerly dragged it a bit closer, and took a look.

“As you can see Nightjar, the position being offered is that of a courier. Due to many reasons, delivery across the realms is a cumbersome affair, not the least due to political complications. The best system to lay down in this situation was to have an impartial party be in charge of the work. You can say that I am a representative of the aforementioned impartial party that took over the role. If you would turn a page over-

Dick had dutifully turned the page.

-you’d see that we offer great compensation. In addition to your salary, you’ll receive health insurance, life insurance, death insurance, medical insurance, dental, vision care insurance, paid vacation time, overtime pay, paid time-off, flexible time-off, paid medical leave, free medical care, maternity leave, paternity leave, all other forms of parental leave, a good retirement package, loan assistance, wellness programmes, child care assistance, regular bonuses, promotions, raises, accommodation, a provident fund, and a whole host of other benefits that are clearly listed on the page. And of course at the end right there is our offered starting salary, which is highly negotiable up to the amount listed right below it. Please take as much time as you need to read through them.”

To say Dick had been overwhelmed was an understatement. He hadn’t thought that this was going to be an actual, honest to God job offer. If anything he just thought the entire job thing was an excuse or prelude to something much worse. But as he parsed through the file, getting increasingly bewildered as the man rattled on, he had to admit that this really looked like a weird recruitment effort. And then his eyes had fallen on the salary figure, and the amount to which it could be negotiated upwards, and he froze. Because even for the ex-ward of a billionaire, it was a ludicrous number. He couldn’t even accurately count the zeros on the thing. Even Wayne Enterprises wouldn't be able to match a deal like this.

At that thought Dick had felt a pang of pain as he remembered Bruce still hadn’t called him, or even made an attempt at apologising. There were no texts, no missives. Just radio silence. The pain in his chest increased and Dick had felt the ever returning feeling of being unmoored. He pushed those feelings to the furthest corners of his mind. He had to focus now.

Feeling marginally calmer, he had taken a deep breath and closed the file. He looked up at Nightingale who had been watching him avidly over the rim of a coffee cup which definitely wasn’t there before, and asked the most pertinent question.

“Why me?”

And now they are here.

Dick scoffed at the white haired being’s answer. Oh he didn’t doubt that it was the truth. By now he had somehow come to an understanding of how this worked. It was fae rules. Meaning he had to watch his mouth. Similarly Nightingale won’t lie, but he can certainly obfuscate.After all withholding information wasn’t technically a lie, especially if it was masked with a half-truth. In other words, Nightingale hadn’t lied, but that wasn’t all there is to it. And Dick wasn’t going to let it slide.

“How am I supposed to believe you to be a good employer if you’re already lying?”, he asked outright. You know, like a reckless fool.

Nightingale’s pleasant smile instantly froze, and then it gained an edge. A sharp, lethal edge.

“I don’t lie”, the man said, a cold cadence to his voice.

Dick could feel the figurative whetted blade on his throat, but he pressed forward. This was the first time he had taken blood in this fiasco and he wasn’t going to concede just like that.

“Lying by omission, is still lying.”

Nightingale’s entire mien darkened, and frost spread across the table. Dick didn’t back off.

There was silence. Suffocating silence. And then the vergals receded and Nightingale sat back with a satisfied air. Dick blinked in surprise.

“Good. You didn’t cower.”

Dick sat back on his own chair, his breath fogging in the still cold air. “Was that a test?”

Nightingale took another sip of his coffee. Was it even coffee? It looked like coffee, but who knows what anything is in this bizarre space. Certainly not Dick.

“It was a test. The position of a courier in this part of existence requires mettle, and a strong mind. You would be dealing with beings ranging from the divine to the demonic. I’m sure you know they are a stubborn lot. You’ll have to stand up to them often. Plus you would be representing Us. We can’t have an unprincipled, craven fool take the job can we now? So I had to test you. Congratulations! You passed with flying colours.”

Dick glared at the man. “I still haven’t agreed to anything. And you still haven’t told me why I was chosen.”

Nightingale chuckled. It was an unnatural, but pleasant sound. “Aah you caught that. Very well then.”

He clasped his hands together and put them on the table, bringing Dick’s attention to the black, razor sharp claws once again, as well as to the extremely ominous ring he wore on his left hand’s little finger.

“You were chosen because you are a multiversal constant. This job requires much interdimensional, interuniversal travel, and a multiversal constant is ideal for the role. And before you ask, a multiversal constant is essentially someone whose soul acts as a consistent axis across worlds through indelible aspects of their existence. They are rare, and their axial quality makes multiversal travel easy for them.”

The white haired entity’s eyes shone in the dim light. “You are a multiversal constant Nightjar. Centred around your potential, And also, I know you will agree to do the job. So I’m not worried.”

Even as he struggled to process what was just revealed, Dick found the energy to scowl at the impishly grinning man. “And how would you know? What’s in it for me? All I’m seeing is a job, the benefits of which, doesn’t make up for how dangerous it is.”

“But you will accept it nonetheless”, replied Nightingale with an amused air. “Think about it. You’ve been fired from Robin but still intend to continue being a vigilante, and vigilantism is expensive work. Now that you don’t have the Wayne coffers to pull from, you would have to find alternate means to acquire resources. You’re brilliant and I have no doubt you will find those resources and do spectacularly under your new mantle. But that would take time. And calling in favours that could either be used somewhere else, or make you indebted to someone. The salary this job provides you will allow you to finance your quest for justice, and still have plenty leftover. Not to mention the other benefits, such as the free medical care provided by Us, people who will never question your injuries the way a normal hospital might, or put your civilian identity at risk like a back alley doctor.”

Nightingale’s verdant eyes stared a hole through Dick as he spoke. “You wanted to get out of Batman’s shadow. This is your chance, Nightjar.”

The young vigilante had to give it to Nightingale. The man sure knew how to pitch an offer. He found himself agreeing to most of what Nightingale said, especially the finances part but he still wasn’t going to agree to a job that would put him in the crosshairs of gods and demons. That was just monumentally stupid.

“You make good points”, Dick said as he slid the file sitting idle on his side to Nightingale. “But I’m still not gonna agree.”

Nightingale slid the file back over to him without missing a bit.

“If I thought you were the type to easily capitulate I wouldn’t have approached you in the first place,” the man said, not a single sign of ire at Dick’s repeated refusal in his voice. In fact he seemed rather glad Dick was being difficult.

“You want to know more about being a multiversal constant correct? That is not the kind of information you’ll find lying around on earth.”

A pitch black claw scraped across the table, but there was no noise, and the deep scratch left behind instantly stitched itself back together, the tabletop pristine once more.

“By now you must have a rudimentary idea of the world you are being invited into. You would not have called yourself Nightjar otherwise. You also know that this is not a world Batman has access to.”

The man pointed opened his right palm, still resting on the table, and brilliant emerald fire blazed to life on it. Something in Dick’s lizard brain told him this fire ran cold rather than hot.

“Magic and everything associated with it is not something the Dark Knight can handle by his usual methods. And magic is just one of the aspects of our Realm. An infinite more mysteries keep it company. This world is yours for the taking. No mortal would be able to access what you can and you would be able to help so many people.”

Blue eyes met green.

“This will set you apart from Batman once and for all. An identity that no one can take away from you at their whim. Just think of this as your day job, as being a CEO is for Bruce Wayne.”

Nightingale clasped one of Dick’s hands resting on the table and transferred the fire over to it. Dick stared as the flame danced merrily in his palm. It really was cold. By the time he had his wits about him, the fire had vanished. Nightingale had seemingly finished his coffee, as the cup was nowhere to be seen.

Dick glanced at the white haired man who watched him calmly. Then he took the file and started reading through it. If he was going to take this job, he was going to make sure to read the fine print. Out of the corner of his eye, he could spy Nightingale’s gleaming, triumphant smile. Dick couldn’t help but feel annoyed.

He didn’t know how much time it took for him to read the file completely. Time ran strangely in this space. What he did know was there was an ornate, silver pen right next to him, which definitely wasn’t there before. He had to roll his eyes at Nightingale's antics.

Nonetheless he uncapped it, admiring the craftsmanship for a moment, and signed on the dotted line in his Alfred approved best cursive, bells, whistles, hoops and all.

Nothing happened. Dick felt kinda disappointed. He had thought signing a magical contract with a possible fae creature would be a little less anti-climactic. Across from him, Nightingale chuckled as if he could read his mind. Could he?

He slid the file over once more, this time for last. Nightintingale just skimmed through before sliding over an envelope.

“Your appointment letter”.

“You had that ready?”

“Of course.”

Dick snorted inelegantly at that. Obviously the man had foreseen how this would go. That should make him more wary than what he was feeling, but just as he had known the fire was cold before, he knew Nightingale wouldn’t harm him. Bruce would call him an idiot for this kind of illogical thinking, but Bruce wasn’t here now was he?

He was about to shove another medley of complicated emotions down, when Nightingale reached over and viciously ran a claw down his right arm. Blood spurted in a gruesome display and Dick scrambled back, chair falling down, and his body hitting the surprisingly sturdy veil.

“What was that about?”, he shouted as he clutched his bleeding arm to his chest. Just when he had thought the man didn’t mean him any harm…

Nightingale had the audacity to look nonplussed. He simply brought his palms up as if to show he meant no harm, but it was a moot point when one of his claws was dripping with Dick’s blood.

“Just testing something”, the man said calmly.

“Testing what?’, Dick asked angry and confused.

In response, Nightingale simply pointed to his arm.

“What? Testing whether your claws could tear me apar-”

He stopped short. There, before his eyes, the flesh of his arm was knitting itself together. In mere moments, the wound was gone, not even a scar where it should be. Dick was reminded of the table from before. What just happened?

“What did you do to me?”, he asked, voice soft, and emotionless.

“Don’t worry. It's your compensation. Part of your medical aid.”

He waved his hand, and the blood vanished. “Do sit down, Nightjar. Lets order something to eat.”

Robotically Dick walked to the table once more. The upturned chair was somehow rightened, already pulled out as if waiting for him.

“That was a healing factor”, he said rather than asked.

Nightingale nodded unbothered. “Yes, you’ll be needing that in your line of work.”

The veil opened and admitted a two-headed woman in, carrying trays of food in her four arms.

When she left, Nightingale eagerly took up his cutlery, looking excitedly at what looked like a luminescent crepe. He glanced at a shell-shocked Dick and frowned.

“Please eat. It's safe to consume, now that you’re one of us. If you’re worrying about your job, don’t. You have been assigned an excellent mentor in Harker. The White Grim will train you well.”

With that, he dug in, clearly enjoying his glowing crepe.

Dick just stared at the man, at his no longer injured arm, and sighed. Might as well eat. He hadn’t gotten to eat anything at the cafe and was beginning to feel hungry.

He scooped a spoonful from what seemed like an overly fancy bowl of cereal.

One of them huh?

He took a bite.

#dp x dc #My contribution to the agenda of more Dick Grayson in dp x dc #Ghost King Danny kinda forgot to human #In professional settings he emulates Clockwork #He doesn't know that because of how he looks he seems more mischievous but dangerous Fae King than Ghost King #Nobody tell him #He just doesn't have Clockwork's ancient and wise vibe #The infinite Realms offer the best employee benefits in the Omniverse #Shout out to the real ones that saw my boy Jonathan Harker #our very good friend #thanking @see-arcane for the inspiration for the White Grim title #much obliged #Courier AU

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