#X male reader

[starboye]

with how much price is always there for simon it's only right simon gives back in some sort of way and what better way to do that other than let the captain have a go at his pretty little lovie

simon sat there with a smirk as he watched price fuck you, your face pushed into the pillow as he plowed your hole open, simon fisting his own cock to the erotic sight of it all "i gotta say si' your boy's got a good hole" price smirked listening to you moan out so loudly the pillows did nothing to muffle it

"wan' me to do something about that noisy mouth captain" simon asked standing up "affirmative" price answered lifting your head from the pillows to look at simons dark scowl "open" he ordered, his thumb holding up your chin to look at him firmly

dropping open your mouth with your tongue out for simon to slap his glistening tip on before pushing it into your mouth and all that way down your throat "quite a good gift i must say" price says tightening his grip on your hips as he fucked into you harder, pushing your mouth further onto simons dick

"only the best for you captain" simon nods at price, grabbing a handful of your hair and fucking your mouth back and forth before spurting his load down your throat, pulling out to slap his messy cock on your cute face "so fuckin' pretty" he leans down to kiss you

price soon follows, filling you up with his load "good boy, now what do we say" simon says "thank you sir" you tell price "that's right now clean him up too" simon orders and you do so, pulling yourself from prices cock to lick it clean like a good pup

[carnalcrows]

A DEAL - THANOS

pairing: plug!thanos x male!reader

synopsis: Your dealer offers you another way to pay for your drugs.

content warnings: 18+, bottom male reader, drug usage, breeding, free use?

word count: 1.1k

You weren’t about to walk all the way back home just because you forgot your damn phone. That was like an hour’s trip—both ways—and for what? Just to come all the way back to buy the same damn thing?

Nah.

Not when you were already at Thanos’ place, comfortably sprawled out on his couch like it was your second home. Not when he was right there, sitting across from you in his usual chair, one leg crossed over the other, smoking like he had all the time in the world.

And definitely not when you could already smell the good shit from across the room.

“C’mon, man,” you groaned, head tipped back against the couch, fingers drumming lazily against your knee. “You know I always pay you. Just let me take it, and I’ll send the money later.”

Thanos didn’t respond right away. He just took another slow drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke like he was contemplating his life choices, like maybe he regretted ever doing business with you in the first place.

Then, finally, he spoke.

“That’s cute,” he said, voice slow and deep, smooth as ever. “But I don’t do charity.”

You scoffed. “Wow. So heartless.”

He smirked. “Nah. Just practical.” He flicked some ash into the tray beside him, tilting his head slightly. “Though, lucky for you… I do accept alternative forms of payment.”

Your brows furrowed. “Huh?”

Thanos just stared at you.

And then—oh.

Your lips curled into a slow grin. “Oh, you’re nasty.”

Thanos chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

You leaned back, running your tongue over your teeth, tapping your fingers against your thigh. You should just leave. Should just call it a night and make the trip home. But… that was a lot of effort. And you really wanted that stash.

And, well.

Thanos wasn’t ugly.

You exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down your face. “Man, whatever. You better give me the top-shelf shit, though.”

Thanos grinned—dark, lazy, cocky as hell. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, voice dropping slightly. “I take care of my customers.”

Then, with no warning, he was on you.

His hand grabbed your jaw, tilting your head up just enough before he crashed his lips against yours.

It was messy. Fast. Hungry. There was no hesitation, no build-up—just Thanos, all heat and pressure and control. His fingers gripped your face like he had no intention of letting go, and his other hand pinned your thigh down, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

You barely had time to react before his tongue teased at the seam of your lips, demanding. He wasn’t asking. He wasn’t waiting. He was just taking.

A groan built in your throat, half a protest, half something else, but Thanos swallowed it whole.

"Relax," he muttered against your mouth, his tone edged with amusement. "You acting all shy on me now?"

You scoffed, gripping the front of his hoodie, half to pull him closer, half to push him away—but Thanos barely budged.

“Shut up.”

He smirked against your lips. “Make me.”

You tried. You really did. But Thanos had already won.

His hand slid up from your jaw, fingers threading into your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss. He was leading it, controlling it, and all you could do was keep up. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip, sharp enough to make you gasp, and he took full advantage, drinking in the sound like he owned it.

You barely registered the shift until you felt your back hit the couch, Thanos settling over you, pressing you down like he had all night to burn.

Your breath hitched. "You're enjoying this too much."

Thanos chuckled, low and knowing. "Maybe." He dragged his thumb over your swollen lip, voice dropping to a murmur. "But you're not exactly complaining."

And, well.

You weren’t.

That was probably how you ended up in this position. Face pushed into the couch while your ass was gripped by Thanos’ hands as he wrecked your hole. His hands, god, they were so large, gripping you by the waist, as his colourful nails dug into your skin, leaving crescent shaped marks.

"You feel so good around me... fuck", he groaned as you clenched around him, your hands gripping at the fabric of the couch for support.

The way he fucked you was almost animalistic, if anything, you could say that it was better that the drugs.

Feeling himself close to release, he fucked into you with reckless abandoned, reaching spots you didn't even know exist.

You felt your orgasm wash over you like a waterfall, arching your back into him as you came.

He came soon after, pushing all the way into you before painting your insides a pearly white.

He laid you on the couch and flipped you around to face him. Your fucked-out expression made him hard again, you felt him in your stomach.

"You thought we were done? Nah, the booze you want costs way more that this baby."

Oh.

Fuck.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time, and I take genuine effort to do them.

[bumblesimagines]

Common Interests

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Colonel Miles Quaritch never expected to be revived into the body of the very thing he went to war against but he adapted. Now, he can't fully understand if his new brain is making him imagine things.. like an attraction to one of the locals.

Pronouns: He/Him/His

CW/TW: Typical Avatar warnings, age gap (Quaritch's conscience is much older than (Y/N) but his body is much younger so), they match each other's freak to a degree that is dangerous to the public, Quaritch is probably a lil ooc, sexual content toward the end

~~~

A heavy sense of deja vu washed over Miles as he took in the module, now worn down from time and taken over by the forest's flora. He died, and while he had no memory of the day, the reminder settled over his shoulders like a weight.

It was hard to look away from the battle sight, too overgrown with lush plant life to hold any signs of a fight apart from the module and the AMP suit containing his bones. It chilled him when he first laid eyes on the remains of his human body, on the arrows piercing through where his chest had been. 

Looking at it now filled him with anger and the delicious heat of revenge. Killing Jake Sully would be an eye for an eye, in his opinion. It wasn't his problem Jake had disposed of his human body.

"This.. 'friend' of yours," Miles cleared his throat and tore his eyes away from the AMP suit to eye the feral child, his feral child by all means. Spider glanced at him. "Any idea when, or if, he'll show up?" There's a bite to his words. Patience wasn't one of his virtues.

Spider only swallowed and turned his back to him, the blue stripes painted along his arms humorous if not pitying. He was beginning to believe this 'friend' was a ruse, some lie conjured up in hopes that the Sullys would take notice and fly to his rescue. The tension in the air amongst his squad members told him they thought similarly, and the last thing Miles wanted was getting further on General Ardmore's bad side. His stunt with the scientists had left a notable bad taste in her mouth.

His head tilted curiously when Spider took a deep inhale, half-expecting a scream for help to leave his short body, but instead, Spider made a call of sorts. It sounded odd, likely due to his vocal cords being unlike a Na'vi's but it echoed through the forest nonetheless. Everyone held their breaths, ears twitching and flicking wildly as they examined the gigantic branches stretched out all around them. Miles waited, his muscles tense. A distant call echoed back and the clanking of soldiers grabbing their guns followed.

Spider's hands shot up, his eyes flying wide open in panic. It almost tugged on Miles's heartstrings. "Don't shoot him! I told you- he isn't with the Omatikaya!"

"You never told us why," Wainfleet mentioned stiffly, his hold on his assault rifle unrelenting. "He could be a cannibal for all we know."

"He's not- What?" Spider made a face, his blonde eyebrows knitting together in disbelief. Wainfleet shrugged. "He's not a cannibal. He was exiled for- for-" Spider swallowed again, nervous this time and even a little sheepish. "For making an attempt on Jake's life." 

Now that had Miles's attention, and his body reacted accordingly. His ears perked and twitched forward with interest and a throaty chuckle vibrated in his throat. "Is that so?" One of his canines dug lightly into his lip, half-eager and half-amused. Of course, his kid would befriend someone banished for attempted murder. 

A feeling of being watched suddenly bore into his back and he whipped around, one hand grabbing his rifle but the sharp inhale from Spider made him hesitant to raise it. His eyes studied the surrounding treeline, more adept and better than his human eyes but the Na'vi of the forest were raised to stalk their prey without being seen. An excited chill jittered up his spine. 

A little too late for his liking, Miles caught sight of the figure before a blur of blue jumped down into the small clearing, landing on the ground with a soft thump no human ears would've picked up. The soldiers whirled around and bristled at the sight of the unfamiliar Na'vi as he slowly rose from his hunches, those almost cat-like eyes studying them intently.

"(Y/N)!" Spider shouted, the relief in his voice immense.

(Y/N)'s ear twitched at the sound of his voice and before anyone could blink, Spider ducked past Miles and straight for him. There were shouts, ones that Miles silenced with a raised hand, and the soldiers reluctantly grew still. Spider essentially threw himself at the Na'vi, though his small human weight barely even swayed him. (Y/N)'s tail coiled. 

"Vrrtep 'eveng." He murmured, his hand comically large when he placed it over Spider's shoulder. Miles felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest watching Spider press his mask as close as possible into (Y/N)'s abdomen, seeking comfort and reminding him of just how young he still was. (Y/N)'s fingers pressed into his shoulder blades and then promptly tugged Spider away, his face neutral.

It only then registered what he'd called Spider. Demon child.

Miles found himself unable to tear his eyes away from his kid. "He speak English?"

Spider's mouth opened to respond but Miles caught the irritated tail swish and found his question answered. "He can." (Y/N)'s voice was accented, similar to the accent of Sully's wife, but it somehow sounded more pleasing coming from him. Perhaps the history between Miles and the Sullys ran too bitter for him to see any beauty in the family. (Y/N)'s eyes dropped back to Spider. "You are with dreamwalkers. Why?"

Before Spider could answer, or potentially plead to be saved and ruin everything, Miles took a step forward and lifted his hands away from his weapons. "I have an understandin' you and Jake Sully, the man your people call 'Toruk Makto', are at odds." (Y/N) stared at him. Right, right, human phrases and sayings weren't at the top of the school's list of things to teach the Na'vi. "You don't like him."

(Y/N)'s lip curled upward into a smirk, and the fact he looked unbothered by all the weapons pointed at him made Miles like him already.

"JakeSully is a vrrtep, a demon amongst the People. A false idol." (Y/N)'s features hardened then, ears pinned back and everything. Spider suddenly looked uncomfortable. "He stole everything from my brother. Tsu'tey should have been Olo'eyktan. Neytiri was meant to be his mate. JakeSully took it all from him, and then killed him. Him being Toruk Makto means little to me. He is.. vermin."

"You're preachin' to the goddamn choir, kid." That little furrowed brow look appeared on his face again but Miles continued. He could feel his canines pressing into his lip from how wide he grinned. "Jake Sully is a vermin, but he's a vermin I mean to kill." 

(Y/N)'s tail raised and coiled slightly so Miles interpreted it as a sign of interest. He took a moment to study the Na'vi standing before him, the Na'vi his son seemed to prefer over him. Miles couldn't blame him; he'd be apprehensive after all the shit the scientists put him through too.

Like all other Na'vi, (Y/N) was tall and lithe and sported as little clothing as possible which Miles tried not to focus on too hard. There was a scar along his forearm a paler blue than his skin but it appeared to be in the process of fading. A wound from the war, Miles assumed. His eyes captivated him the most though. 

His eyes were pretty, but his stare was intense—not intense in the angry or aggravated way of the Sullys or even Spiders, but in a predatory way. He watched them like a lion would a herd of gazelles when contemplating whether to leave them alone or go on the prowl. His stare was confident and calm while simultaneously intimidating, filling Miles with a thrill.

"We need to become more like the Na'vi, like you, in order to locate and terminate Jake Sully." 

Spider glanced up at (Y/N), his hands twitching as if he wanted to toss his arms around him again. "He means becoming an ikran rider." 

(Y/N) blinked at that and for the first time, he looked utterly bewildered. "You are not ready."

"Kid," Miles lightly scoffed and exchanged glances with the rest of his squad. "We're soldiers- warriors, if you will. We're more than ready for anythin'." 

"We were born ready." Wainfleet asserted cockily, a light pleased chuckle rumbling in his throat, but (Y/N) remained unconvinced. 

He stepped forward toward Miles in a long stride, and the air, which had been lightening up, tensed again. Z-Dog shuffled forward, nearly pushing her rifle close to his face, but he merely hissed at her, all canines and briefly flattened ears. It was a simple warning, based on how swiftly his features relaxed afterward.

"Leave him." Miles barked and she begrudgingly backed off.

Being in an avatar body gave him the advantage of equal footing with the Na'vi, and his self-assurance showed when he allowed (Y/N) to draw closer. (Y/N) eyed him from head to toe, his stare scrutinizing. To Miles's surprise, (Y/N) took his hand in his and studied it, lightly pinching the finger his own hand lacked. His touch was equally surprising: gentle, mindful, almost cautious. He hummed softly and trailed his attention upward until it stopped on the ink covering his bicep, tracing the outline of the bird with his eyes.

"It's an eagle-" 

(Y/N) dropped his hand, uninterested. "It is ugly."

Miles stared at him in surprise and felt some heat lick up his neck when his ears caught the stifled snickers behind him from his squad. He shot them a withering glare and they quickly silenced themselves, even straightening up and adjusting their hold on their weapons. Fuckin' Morons.

(Y/N) circled him, his eyes raking all over his body and lingering on his rifle when he appeared at Miles's other side. His curiosity was understandable; Miles often wondered what other differences there were between the natives and avatars besides the obvious. His hand reached behind Miles and carefully took his braid into his hand, the feeling alone sending a jolt up his spine.

He'd received an obligatory lesson on his avatar body, its limits and functions, all that jazz. He was beginning to think that maybe he should've paid closer attention to the parts he deemed useless for the mission. He'd probably know why his body was reacting so strongly to a mere touch. 

"You have kurus, you may perform tsaheylu." (Y/N) dragged his palm along the braid, the sensation making the air catch in Miles's throat though it seemingly went unnoticed. It was an odd sensation, one he couldn't describe. It sent shivers dancing along his spine and made his lungs struggle to breathe. (Y/N) stopped at the bottom and raised it so the others could see the wriggling tendrils. "You will need tsaheylu to bond with an ikran." 

"What's it like? This, uh, tsahehu shit."

(Y/N) glared at Wainfleet and Miles tugged his braid free, air finally flowing into his lungs with ease. "Tsaheylu is a bond. You will feel the ikran.. you will feel each beat from its heart, every breath it takes, every emotion it feels, any pain it endures.. and it will feel you, too. Once tsaheylu is established, the ikran will be bonded with you until death." 

The information settled over the squad and Miles gave a thoughtful hum, his fingertips lightly scratching his chin and eyes dragging down to (Y/N)'s 'kuru'. His hand raised to grasp it, curious to see how it'd affect the Na'vi, but (Y/N) snatched his wrist and held it hard in his hand before it could inch any closer to his braid. Miles's jaw clenched with a flare of irritation. 

"Tsaheylu is only performed in adulthood when you choose the person you wish to be mated for life with. It is serious. It is the strongest bond you will ever have with another." (Y/N) squeezed his wrist and narrowed his eyes. "Kurus are not toys."

"You mind lettin' me go, kid?" His teeth bared until his wrist was released from his tight grip and his nostrils flared with a sharp inhale. "Let me make myself very clear here, (Y/N). You and I, we fought on opposite sides of the same damn war. We may have a common enemy but you and I sure as shit ain't friends. We need a Na'vi, a real Na'vi, and you are as real as it gets. I respect your loyalty to your brother and what you tried doin' in his honor but I am Colonel Quaritch. You will treat me with some goddamn respect, understood?"

(Y/N) leaned in despite the already close distance between their faces, their noses just a hair away from brushing. The intensity in his eyes heightened, not a speck of fear in them or a tremble in his body. Most would have had wobbly knees from his tone alone. Miles's eyes unwillingly lowered to the constellation of lightly glowing white freckles scattered across his face and found himself startled when he considered the beauty of his features. 

That wasn't right.

Na'vi were strange, alien creatures who he typically found unattractive in every aspect but their admirable courage. He supposed becoming an avatar and living in a body that largely resembled them flipped a switch in his head, made him unconsciously reconsider how he saw them.

(Y/N)'s flat nose, round eyes, pierced ears, striped markings, and sharp canines no longer looked unnatural. It made him uncomfortable to realize but he was too stubborn to lean back or look away from him. He was a Colonel, goddamnit.

"You are vrrtep, too, like JakeSully. Your existence-" (Y/N) cocked his head to the side, his breath hot on Miles's face. "-disgusts me." 

(Y/N) leaned back, his chin slightly tucked and his unblinking stare challenging, silently encouraging Miles to test him. Miles felt tempted to; he wanted to strangle him or slam his knuckles into his nose, something, anything, just to put the fear of god in him and finally feel an ounce of respect from him.. another part wanted to squeeze his flesh and learn how he tasted. Miles hadn't expected the latter, and it made him worry for his sanity. Had it really been that long since he last gotten laid?

"You've got some balls on you, kid." He finally managed. 

(Y/N)'s hairless brows twitched downward, confused again. It was startling how easily he switched from murderous and eager to fight to then having innocent puzzlement over common human phrases. His mouth formed a frown and his eyes flickered to Spider questioningly, his tail flickering from side to side like a whip.

Spider sighed heavily, obviously discontent with the newfound alliance, however unstable it was. "It means he thinks you're brave."

(Y/N) hummed and looked the slightest bit satisfied, the corners of his mouth twitching up before it smoothed back out into a neutral expression. His shoulders straightened and he roamed his eyes over the rest of the squad, his eyes flickering around to study each of them and their bodies.

"Come then, we will see what Ewya thinks of your desire to ride her ikrans." 

When the opinionated and often grating Dr. Augustine was still around running her little avatar program, Miles paid little mind to her discoveries on Na'vi culture. His job was training each soldier that came to Pandora and ensuring they had a fighting chance when they ventured past the walls of Hell's Gate, not keeping up with sleep-deprived, yapping little scientists who more often got in the way. Now.. well, as much as he hated admitting it, maybe he should've done some more research on what going full Na'vi would entail. 

"You're fucking with us." Z-Dog breathed, uttering the words on everyone's minds as they stared up at the floating islands that made up part of the Hallelujah Mountains. The small clusters of rock and foliage floated above them, connected by roots and vines that extended up and through the clouds. "We're going up there.. on foot?"

(Y/N) grinned, his canines gleaming in the sunlight as Spider snickered under his breath. "You are climbing. Spider will lead the way."

Z-Dog scoffed. "And what the hell are you going to do?"

"Fly." 

Tilting his head toward the skies, (Y/N) made two distinctive calls, stronger and smoother than the call Spider had made but with a harder click of his tongue. The familiar shriek of an ikran responded and the squad took tentative steps back when the winged beast appeared through the clouds. It landed before them and gave its long body a hard shake, little chirps coming from her parted jaws.

"Do not look her in the eye. She will take it as a challenge." (Y/N) instructed with amusement, his palm gently running along her long neck. A soft noise rumbled in her chest and her four golden eyes fluttered shut. "Her name is Tìlor. We flew into battle together against the sawtute years ago."

Tìlor was a pretty girl. A mix of lavender and aqua-blue collided along her leathery body with navy blue markings covering her from snout to tail. The talons at the end of each dragonfly-like wing tapped gently against the ground, helping her move as she shifted around to peer up into the skies.

(Y/N)'s hand moved to carefully grasp one of the kurus protruding from her temples, moving it so he could connect his own with hers. Her body shivered and her pupils dilated briefly before her head affectionately bumped into his abdomen. 

"I will meet you on Mons Veritatis." He told them as he climbed onto the saddle fastened to her back. His grin sharpened into something cruel when he looked at them. "A fall from this height will kill you. Mind your step." 

 Tìlor swiftly took off into the sky with a shriek, her movements swift and graceful as they circled the main roots attached to the ground that led to the first floating rock before they disappeared beyond the clouds. Spider moved quickly, effortlessly climbing onto the roots and walking up without hesitance. 

"C'mon." Miles huffed, adjusting his rifle so it rested along his back and setting his boot over the root to test its sturdiness. It was long and thicker than his body but the bottom of his shoe slipped on the moss. He sighed and reached down to undo the laces of his boots. "We can't let some Na'vi outshine us, can we?"

The climb to Mons Veritatis was treacherous. Each time he looked up, more floating islands appeared above them, more spread out and dangerous than the last. Spider climbed as if he'd done the journey a million times before, even leaping from island to island and swinging from vines as if he were only a few feet from the ground and not climbing through clouds. His arms burned and ached like hell by the time they reached the mountain the ikrans called home, his blue skin shining with sweat and air leaving him in small huffs. 

Spider barely looked out of breath. 

He led them to the rookery, a cliff along the side of the mountain covered in thick vegetation with untamed ikrans scattered across the surface in an ocean of vibrant colors. Ikrans shrieked and growled at the sight of them, and those closest to where they walked shuffled away or flew off to settle somewhere else. Tìlor landed beside them and snapped at a nearby ikran, a youngling that darted into the sky in fright.

(Y/N) hopped off her back and reached out to grab the muzzle of the tranquilizer gun Wainfleet tried setting up. "You wish to be like Na'vi, you will do this like Na'vi. JakeSully's children have completed iknimaya with no weapons. You are adults." He effortlessly tugged the gun from Wainfleet's hands, his tail flicking with a hint of annoyance. His gaze turned toward Miles and the corner of his mouth raised mockingly. "Unless you are afraid, vrrtep." 

Miles's jaw twitched and he inhaled slowly through his nose. He was playing right into (Y/N)'s game and he knew it but his pride refused to let him be so openly mocked. "Alright," He rose from his hunches to be at eye level with him and he slipped his rifle free from his back to hand it over to Mansk. "How is this done, tough guy?"

"You do not choose an ikran, an ikran chooses you." His eyes suddenly brightened and his tail wiggled with a barely contained thrill, his sharp little canines digging into his bottom lip. He looked positively excited, in an almost deranged way. "It will try to kill you." 

Miles smirked, a laugh rumbling in the back of his throat. "Now, ain't that somethin'."

Bridgehead City's nothing compared to the forest encircling it that the machines slowly chip away at. All metal and concrete instead of soft dirt and towering trees, clanging and whirring of machines instead of soft calls and branches rustling, cold AC air blasting inside the buildings instead of the warm air outside. 

(Y/N) obtained a permanent nose crinkle the moment the chopper landed, and he hardly seemed impressed at the fact he had to breathe from a mask every few minutes when they finally escaped the machines working outside. His ears twitched in every direction and his eyes narrowed at every stare he received from stunned or petrified workers.

If he sported the outfit the Recoms wore instead of the beaded jewelry and little loincloth of the clans, he may have passed for one of them, but Miles figured he'd refuse to even put socks on; it took ages to convince him to visit Bridgehead, to begin with. His tail whipped irritability and Miles hoped Spider's quiet explanations of everything kept his temper in check. 

"Pull up the footage we've got on Jake Sully's attacks," Miles ordered, his hands coming to rest on his hips. He waited a moment for the footage to be projected but everyone in the room was frozen still. Nobody moved, nobody even breathed. What a bunch of pansies. "Am I talkin' to my-damn-self?" 

The nearest person to the control panel quickly reached over and tapped on the smooth panel that lit up briefly at her touch before she shrunk back into her chair as projections of the footage appeared. (Y/N) stepped forward, eyeing the technology curiously as he took a sip of air from his mask. 

"Jake Sully's attacks are well-coordinated," Miles admitted somewhat reluctantly, watching choppers explode from missiles shot by stolen weapons and the muted cries of soldiers struck by arrows longer than their bodies.

(Y/N) propped his leg up on an empty chair, the action so casual he could've been mistaken for a cocky Recom. Miles's eyes naturally drifted back to him and he felt his lip quirk. The Na'vi seemed to have an instinct to perch on things, something Spider picked up like a habit. The teen mimicked (Y/N) and crossed his arms over his chest, though he looked like he hardly cared for the footage.

"He was sawtute before he was uniltìrantokx. He claimed to be a warrior and he wielded your weapons effortlessly during the Battle of Ayram Alusìng." (Y/N) craned his head over his shoulder to look at him. "This does not surprise me." 

"The Na'vi fight-" 

"What the hell is this, Colonel?" 

General Ardmore's voice vibrated through the room, sharp and tense and dripping with controlled fury. Those in the room familiar with her stiffened immediately, more tense than they were when (Y/N) entered the room. Her bright blue eyes flickered wildly between the Na'vi and Miles, disbelief on her face first before the irritation returned in the form of a scowl.

"This is (Y/N)." Miles drawled casually, knowing it'd grate on her nerves. He still had to wrap his head around no longer being the top dog around the base. "He's an Omatikaya exile; he nearly killed Jake Sully." 

"So, you thought you'd just bring your new pet here to Bridgehead?" General Ardmore laughed humorlessly, her jaw visibly clenching. (Y/N) stared at her blankly, his tail twitching once with disinterest before he returned his attention to the projections. "Colonel-"

"We fought the Na'vi blindly once and lost because Jake Sully knew our ways. We need someone who knows how Sully and his wife work, how they think and act as Na'vi." Miles explained, his boots thumping against the floor until his body was between (Y/N) and the other humans with holstered weapons. "He's already proven useful, General."

"We aren't here to make friends, Colonel." General Ardmore spoke through near-gritted teeth, her eyes briefly fluttering shut in exasperation. "You know our new objective." 

"He's useful to our current objective, General. He's been trained to fight by the Na'vi since he was a kid and he despises Jake Sully. Trust me on this one, I know what I'm doin'." 

General Ardmore remained silent for a long while, her nostrils flaring and eyes narrowed into slits. Her chest rose with a deep inhale and she gave a firm nod, her eyes alone threatening him before she turned her back to him. "If he becomes a problem, you will neutralize him."

"Understood." 

(Y/N)'s curiosity of Bridgehead was limited. He seemed more disturbed than intrigued as they ventured down brightly lit halls and bustling rooms, disgusted grunts leaving him when the smell of perfume or cologne wafted through the air. His face alternated between scrunched up and blank but his tail moved by its own accord. More than once, Miles felt it tap along his leg or begin to curl around it before it jerked away. Eventually, it curled around Spider's arm and Miles realized he'd been seeking something to comfort him. 

It was sobering. All his memories of the Na'vi were violent: the consistent attacks on their machinery and soldiers throughout his years on the planet, Jake and Dr. Augustine's betrayal, the war against them where human numbers dropped considerably, his gruesome death at the hands of Neytiri. (Y/N) was feral, untamed and unpredictable, but the flickers of a caring side and the confusion over phrases reminded him he wasn't a mindless creature set on making his life more taxing.

Miles was beginning to loathe him. There was nothing more he despised than being conflicted over someone. He always knew what he wanted.

"You and I need to have a chat, kid," Miles said, his fist tapping against one of the panels by one of the wide doors leading into the sector specifically designed for the Recoms and their towering bodies. The doors slid open with a low hiss and he glanced over his shoulder at Spider. "Alone." 

"But-" 

"Fike and Z-Dog here will keep you company." 

With one last grin, he stepped through the doors and nodded for (Y/N) to follow. He did, albeit begrudgingly, and raised his ears when the doors slid shut and a soft whir turned on to replace the air with one they could breathe without help from the masks.

The second set of doors opened once done and Miles led him through the recreation room. From the chairs to the tables to the gym equipment on the far side of the room, everything had been specifically designed for them and easily dwarfed anything human-sized. 

(Y/N) still looked unimpressed. He was likely used to the vibrancy of the forest, the bright colors and open space that felt neverending. Bridgehead was dull in comparison, lifeless it if weren't for the residents adding splashing of color to it with their appearances. Miles wondered how long it'd take for him to adapt, if he could at all.

He stopped briefly in front of another set of automatic doors that slid open to reveal his room and entered, waiting for (Y/N) to step inside before tapping on the pad to lock the doors. His room was nothing to ogle at. Plain white walls, plain gray floors, a neatly made bed avatar-sized pressed against the wall, a metal nightstand with a forgotten cup of coffee, a desk with a tablet and lamp, a closet built into the wall. It wasn't much but it was home, and he had it all to himself unlike some of his soldiers who had to share bunks. 

"You.. live here?" (Y/N)'s lips curled when he nodded. "My cave is more welcoming than this. This is... sad."

Miles chuckled under his breath, lightly scratching his temple before he approached his desk to pick up the tablet. "We will begin our search for Jake Sully and his family in soon. He's gone beyond the forest, possibly to the islands across the eastern sea. What clans live out there?" His fingers tapped on the screen, searching the data of the closest whaling vessels that could help them narrow down their search. 

"The Tayrangi, Ta'unui, and Metkayina clans live throughout the eastern sea." There was the sound of springs softly creaking and he raised his head to find (Y/N) lying on his bed, chin propped over his arms and tail raised high in the air. He blinked at him, his eyes trailing over the stripes along his back until they stopped over the curve of his ass. "The Tayrangi live on the mainland but fish in the seas. They are too close. JakeSully would have gone further." 

"Right." His voice sounded strained. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with him?

"The Ta'unui and Metkayina clans live on the reefs." (Y/N)'s eyes gravitated toward him, his ears raising and twitching. Miles swore his lips twisted into a knowing smirk. "Far, far from here. You will have to learn how to ride better if you wish to fly across the sea. You risk much without experience."

"Well, ain't it good you're here, then?" Miles set the tablet aside, his original task forgotten in favor of approaching the bed with slow steps. (Y/N) watched him and lowered his tail until it thumped softly over the mattress. "I'm afraid we can't keep headin' out to the forest whenever we need 'cha, kid. You're hard to find, hard to track. Until we head out to find Jake Sully, you'll have to stay here in Bridgehead."

(Y/N) moved onto his knees, his eyes narrowing and ears pressing back tight against his skull. "No." 

"I wasn't askin'." 

(Y/N)'s tail moved like a whip, quick and hard. It slammed into the ceramic coffee cup and sent it flying into the wall where it shattered into pieces, the leftover coffee adding a brown stain to the wall as it dripped down onto the floor. His tail grew still afterward and his head cocked to the side challengingly again. Miles's mouth drew into a line. The silence was loud. He needed to get the buzzing out of his system.

His hand darted out and grabbed the back of (Y/N)'s head before he tugged him close enough to slam their mouths together. (Y/N) stiffened briefly before his tense muscles relaxed, the sharp whoosh of his tail swaying hard from side to side filling Miles's ears. His fingers dug into Miles's shoulders tightly, purposefully, and he allowed Miles to invade his mouth with a muffled hum. (Y/N) tasted tart and tangy, like one of the fruits he favored.

Miles dropped his free hand to his belt and fiddled with it until he could pop the button of his pants and feel them droop around his hips. He shoved them further down his thighs and left them to pool around his ankles, a grunt vibrating in his throat when (Y/N) bit his bottom lip and drew blood.

His hand reared back, a sting erupting along his palm when it made contact with (Y/N)'s behind. He swallowed the startled noise (Y/N) made and dragged him close enough for their chests to press firmly together. (Y/N)'s tail smacked against his thigh like a whip, hard and fast enough to have the effect of one. 

"You're a real piece of work, ain'tcha?" Miles chuckled huskily, the pain only adding to the heat flowing through his veins and making his briefs unbearably tight.

His tongue pressed against the small cut on his lip, the rusty metallic of blood dancing on his tongue before he dropped his hands down to the back of (Y/N)'s thighs and tugged on them to topple the Na'vi onto the mattress. A huff of surprise left (Y/N) but before he could prop himself up onto his elbows, Miles dragged him until his hips were almost off the bed. He tugged on the loincloth impatiently and tossed it aside blindly, his knees thumping loudly against the metal once he dropped to his knees. 

The way (Y/N) blinked down at him in bewilderment made him grin wolfishly. "Just wanna get a taste, is all." 

This body was new, young, and had the sensitivity of a virgin (which it technically was) but his mind had fifty-one years of experience sleeping with men and women on Earth and Pandora. He often preferred women, preferred the plushness of breasts over pecs, but he'd never been one to let an opportunity pass him by, especially not with his body reacting so strongly to the puzzled Na'vi. 

The last person he recalled being with had been Paz, Spider's mother. The surprise that came with her pregnancy left him taking a silent vow of celibacy while he wrapped his head around being a father, along with avoiding her as if she had the plague. He regretted it now but it was something of the past, unchangeable.

(Y/N) let out a noise of confusion when Miles spread him and then a startled, strangled gasp when his tongue prodded at him. One had to wonder how many times he'd been with someone else intimately. Miles laughed under his breath and began lapping like a starved animal, licking and prodding. He shoved his briefs down his thighs to free himself and felt himself twitch when he delicately pushed one finger past the rim. (Y/N)'s legs caged around his head immediately and he hummed, pressing his cheek into his thigh.

"Breathe, sweetheart." He called, grin lazy and voice teasing. "You ain't ever done this before, huh?" 

"Tanfwìngtu." (Y/N)'s tail smacked his thigh again, this time gentler. His face had flushed a deeper shade of blue and his chest moved with heavy pants. Reducing a would-be killer to a flustered mess made Miles's head spin and ego inflate. "You-"

Miles drew back and then pushed a second digit, mouth curling into a pleased grin when (Y/N)'s back arched off the bed. "Don't bite the hand that feeds now. I'm being nice, aren't I?" He moved his fingers at an even pace, ears absorbing each soft squelch and every noise flowing from (Y/N)'s mouth. "Is this how Jake tamed his wild woman?"

(Y/N) grunted and reached down, his fingers curling along the short hairs and firmly tugging. Miles nipped at his thigh in warning but (Y/N) simply tugged again, a breathy chuckle huffing into the air that made Miles's ears flick forward. He moved upward, flattening his tongue at the base of (Y/N)'s twitching length and dragging it along until he reached the spurting tip.

"Ain't this a pretty thing?" He laughed and (Y/N) scoffed. 

Miles had never paid much attention to his cock, other than when he was taking a piss or relieving himself of some stress with his hand, but if he had, he would've realized the difference in appearance. He'd expected something similar to human anatomy, and it mostly was, but (Y/N)'s twitching cock was in an ombre color: a light blue at the tip that slowly faded into the deep blue that covered the rest of his body. Little white freckles were scattered across it, glowing faintly with each shiver that went up his spine. 

Miles grinned wildly as he slipped his fingers out and listened to the strangled whine that followed, his tail flicking and coiling blissfully. "I gotcha, I gotcha, don't worry." He adjusted himself, pushing at his rim until the tip popped inside and he released a low hiss at the overwhelming warmth. He leaned over (Y/N) and pressed a biting kiss to his collarbone. "See what happens when you comply?"

"Skxawng," (Y/N) reached around and firmly wrapped his fingers around Miles's braid, grinning wickedly when Miles's body shivered. He tugged on it and Miles's hips jerked forward, a low groan and curse tumbling past his lips. A soft, near-purr-like noise rumbled in (Y/N)'s chest. "I will never follow orders from a vrrtep."

"Yeah?" Miles steadied himself, sinking his knees into the mattress and finding himself pleasantly surprised when (Y/N)'s legs curled around his waist. He could feel the coolness of the beaded jewelry rub against him through his shirt, pressing and leaving circular imprints. "We'll see about that."

If he'd come to learn anything since meeting the Na'vi beneath him, it was that he could handle just about anything. He pressed an uncharacteristically delicate kiss to his jawline and planted one hand by his head, fisting the sheets into his hand and offering one last crooked grin. His hips snapped forward, bottoming out and relishing both the warm squeeze and the feeling of (Y/N) biting roughly into his shoulder.

He groaned into his twitching ear and tried to focus all his attention on the knot in his lower belly. He'd done far too much teasing to end up squirting early like a teen boy during his first time. The concept of virginity and early release was likely nonexistent to the locals who barely batted an eye at nudity, but it'd be mortifying if any of the blabbermouths he worked with found out.

Miles evened out his breathing and grunted softly when (Y/N) released his shoulder, his unfocused vision turning to peer down at him. His hand had curled around Miles's wrist, tight as if he were holding on for dear life, but what Miles found most endearing (aside from the hint of blood smeared on the corner of his mouth) was the feeling of their tails curled together. "I gotcha." He repeated softly and, with slightly pursed lips, (Y/N) gave a small nod. 

When he took a second too long to act, (Y/N)'s ears flicked back. "Move." 

Miles huffed out a short laugh. "So bossy." 

But Miles did as asked and began snapping his hips, rough and hard just as he always liked it. His mind blanked and an almost guttural groan rushed out, mixing with the whines and moans of (Y/N) writhing beneath him.

His arm gave out so he braced himself on his forearm instead, his other hand dipping down to grip (Y/N)'s hip and keep him firmly in place. Miles buried his face into his neck, inhaling the scent of the forest still clinging to his skin and dragging his tongue over one of the stripes there. 

(Y/N)'s cheek pressed against his head, his hot panting making Miles's ear twitch annoyingly but when he nuzzled into him, obviously delirious, Miles felt his heart stutter in his chest. The knot in his lower belly tightened and only prompted him to drill into him faster, his fingers digging into his skin harder and canines grazing over his skin. (Y/N)'s noises were reduced to babbling Miles couldn't understand, though he assumed it was cursing, and breathless gasps forced out of him with each thrust. 

"C'mon, baby," Miles roughly kissed his throat, nipping it lightly after, and pulled back to eye the watery glaze over (Y/N)'s half-lidded eyes. He released his hip and wrapped his hand around his speckled length, giving it a few pumps until (Y/N) was squeezing the life right out of him. "Jesus."

With a cry, (Y/N) arched up into him and spurted all over his hand, staining Miles's olive green shirt in the process. Miles's rutting grew messy, his thighs quivering and threatening to give out on him. He pressed his mouth against (Y/N)'s again in a sloppy kiss and he let out a long, muffled groan when he finally felt the knot snap. His body slumped over (Y/N) and his arms wrapped around him firmly, keeping him from slipping out of reach.

"How's that for a vrrtep?"

"Could have been better." (Y/N) muttered tiredly, his fingers lightly dancing along Miles's braid. 

Miles snorted. "Fuckin' brat."

[soaln]

can i request hcs of monster trio and ace/law getting jealous of someone stealing reader’s attention?

𝓗𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 ﹒ ౨ৎ

𓏵 ﹒ ┈ warnings : none, pure fluff, gender isn't mentioned I think ｡— ◟ 𖦹

𝓜𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐃. 𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘

Luffy, despite his carefree and unrefined nature, is open about his feelings for you. His youthful exuberance and boundless energy make his attachment to you both overwhelming and endearing. If someone tries to take your attention away, he doesn’t hesitate to express his feelings. His face scrunches up into an exaggerated pout, his lips puffing out as he declares, “Hey! That’s my [Y/N]!” in a tone that is both childish and possessive.

Luffy usually doesn’t care much about competition, but when it comes to you, he will go to great lengths to capture your attention. Whether it’s interrupting conversations with his signature enthusiasm or pulling you into a tight, playful hug, he makes sure everyone knows you are his priority.

If someone continues to ignore him, Luffy's behavior will become even more outrageous. He might start doing silly stunts, telling jokes, or even challenging the intruder to a goofy competition—all to get your attention back. His actions are loud, chaotic, and completely in character, but they stem from a place of genuine affection.

𝓡𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐀 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎

Zoro’s jealousy is as sharp and precise as his swordsmanship. He’s not one to wear his emotions openly, but when someone catches your attention, his stoic demeanor becomes a little more intense. His arms cross, his gaze narrows, and his silence speaks volumes. He doesn’t need words to convey his displeasure.

If the situation escalates, Zoro's pride won't allow him to stand by without taking action. He'll find a way to involve himself, often pretending that he needs your help with something trivial, like adjusting his swords or reaching for a drink. His movements are deliberate, and his tone remains casual, but his piercing gaze is always fixed on the intruder.

Zoro’s jealousy is subtle yet powerful. He doesn’t create a scene, but his actions and presence are enough to remind everyone—especially you—that he’s not someone to be underestimated when it comes to matters of the heart.

𝓥𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈

Sanji’s jealousy is as intense and dramatic as his personality. When someone tries to capture your attention, his romantic nature ignites like a storm. His words are filled with passion and possessiveness, and his voice drips with charming sweetness as he declares, “Darling, you should know, no one could ever treat you the way I do!”

His jealousy is anything but subtle. He showers you with flirtatious compliments while his eyes smolder with intensity, casting pointed glances at anyone he sees as a threat. Sanji's love language revolves around grand gestures, which he uses to remind you—and everyone else—that you are his muse, his one and only.

If the situation requires it, Sanji will go all out. He might prepare an extravagant meal just for you, presenting it with a theatrical bow and flourish. His jealousy is intertwined with passion, spectacle, and an unwavering devotion that is impossible to ignore.

𝓟𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐆𝐀𝐒 𝐃. 𝐀𝐂𝐄

Ace’s jealousy is subtle, reflecting his laid-back personality, yet it runs deep. When someone captures your attention, he observes from a distance, maintaining a calm expression while his gaze remains intense. A quiet tension fills the air, and a slight change in his demeanor reveals the depth of his feelings.

If the intruder persists, Ace will step in with his trademark charm and ease. His words are teasing, his tone light, but there’s a possessiveness lurking beneath the surface. “Careful, they might bite,” he might say with a smirk, his voice smooth and affectionate. “You wouldn’t want to get too close.”

Ace’s jealousy is never overt, but it’s always present. He doesn’t need grand gestures or dramatic declarations to remind you where his heart lies. His quiet confidence and subtle actions speak louder than words ever could.

𝓣𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐃. 𝓦𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐖

Law's jealousy is a masterclass in restraint and quiet intensity. He doesn't engage in loud displays of emotion, but when someone attracts too much of your attention, his presence becomes unmistakable. He lingers in the background, his posture rigid and his gaze sharp, while his silence is heavy with unspoken possessiveness.

His actions are intentional and thoughtful. A gentle touch, a soft word, or a slight change in distance is enough to remind you—and everyone else—that you belong to him. “You seem… quite interested in them,” he might murmur, his tone cool but tinged with a hint of irritation.

When Law's patience begins to wear thin, his jealousy becomes more evident. A slight scowl, a protective arm around you, or a sharp glare at the intruder acts as a silent warning. His love is deep and intimate, and he won't hesitate to defend it with the same precision he uses in battle.

[spicyspiders]

Knotting anon 👀 Oh, I’m sorry. I was making a separate request. I hadn’t read the one you’d posted yet, whoops! I know a monster-fucker when I see one

Teen Wolf turned me into the monster fucker that I am today. This is loosely based on the Weapon X comics. Warning for rough sex and self-lubrication.

You awaken slowly, your eyes opening to a dull looking room. Upon looking around and trying to take in your surroundings, you weren’t even sure if the room was the right word to call it. You were surrounded by grey walls, laid on a stiff bed, and bathed in a sterile white light. 

It took a few moments once you were awake for the pain in your head to set in, making you wince. You sat up slowly on the bed, fighting through a wave of nausea. You brought a shaky hand up to your head, wanting to survey the injury, even if you couldn’t see it. 

“You might not want to do that,” a voice said from the corner of the room. The wall opened in the shape of a door before three people made their way inside. The room was already small enough as is, so having three other people in it made you feel confined and uneasy. More than you already did, of course. 

“I’m glad to see you’re finally awake,” the man at the front said, flashing a robotic smile. If he was trying to comfort you, it sure as hell wasn’t working. The other two men stood behind him, a gun held in their hands. 

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” the man said, a folder held in one of his hands. 

He gave you a minute to respond, but you stayed silent. From where the man stood, the light cast an ominous looking shadow around his head and shoulders, making you strain your eyes as you tried to read the badge on his chest. 

“You can call me Professor Thorton,” he said. 

Your eyes flicked over to the two men on his left and right. A sense of dread fills your stomach when one of them tightens their fingers around their gun. It makes you sink into the bed, your arms curling around your body protectively. 

Professor Thorton raises a hand, the man beside him relaxing. It does little to calm you down. 

“It’s just a precaution,” the professor says.

Your vocal cords burn when you speak, “I’m not dangerous,” you whisper.

The two men beside Professor Thorton glance at each other before their eyes are back on you. How could you be dangerous if you were so easily captured by whoever these people were? It made you think about the injury on your head and the bandage you could feel above your eyebrows that covers it. You possibly couldn’t be with how seemingly easy it was to knock you out and how much you felt the pain of it now that you were awake. 

Professor Thorton opens the folder and pulls out a photo. He holds it in front of your face, silently watching your expression. 

You look from his face to the photo in confusion before your brain begins to piece the image together. They were of you and Logan. It made something pull in your stomach, but you weren’t able to pinpoint if it was nostalgia, fear, or yearning. It was likely a mix of all three, but mainly fear.

Logan didn’t stay in your town long. “Just passing through,” he had said after literally bumping into you one night after he had left one of the bars. After that, he pulled you into a whirlwind romance that went by just as fast as it began. You told yourself to not get attached, but evidently by your reaction, you still are. 

Professor Thorton puts the photo back, but out comes a few others. This time, he lets you look through them yourself. Your fingers tremble as you look through the photos, all of them taken from angles that made you wonder how the fuck you didn’t see the camera. 

The final photo had you thrusting them back into Professor Thorton’s hand like they burned you. You placed a hand over your racing heart, trying to calm down as you sucked in quick breaths. “How?” You shook your head, “why do you have these?” You questioned, the last photo you just looked at seemingly burned into your vision, even as you tried closing your eyes.

You’ve never felt so violated as the photo flashed through the darkness of your tightly shut eyes. The first few hadn’t been that bad, just of you and Logan out and about as you showed him around town. And then after Logan had asked one night on your doorstep, the next one you had was to be a date. 

The second to last photo, you realized, had to have been from that night. It had been taken from an angle to see not only Logan’s old pickup truck, but to also see your bodies close together as you shared your first kiss. Even if by that time you hadn’t had your first date, you still accepted the kiss Logan had pressed to your lips. 

“Can I kiss you?” he had asked bashfully, and you had already known from that moment that you were gone.  

The last photo had been taken not long afterward, probably only a week after the other from what you could remember. It had been taken to see through your bedroom window to capture the image of Logan’s naked body on top of yours, your faces overcome with pleasure.

“It seems he took a liking to you,” the professor murmured as he put the photos back in the folder. 

“Why am I here?” You asked, opening your eyes to glare up at the man. 

“Logan has grown hard to control, and I think you can help with that.”

Your anger morphs into confusion. You glance over at the two other men, hoping that they would somehow give you the answer. “Control him how?” You haven’t seen Logan in months, which made you even more confused. Who were these people and how was he involved?

“He’s been too overcome with physical urges, which has been,” he looks over to one of the men beside him, “violent for my men.”

“So you want him to kill me, too?”

“No,” he answered, combing through the photos until he reached what you assume was a file, “When I was conducting my research to try and get him to calm down, the photos of you were the only thing to have a substantial effect.”

You responded with a shake of your head, “I can’t help you,” and when Professor Thorton looked down at you with an unimpressed look, you continued on, sounding hysterical, “I haven’t seen Logan in months!”

Through your hysteria, it gives you a spike of energy to try and move, but only for it to quickly be shut down by one of the men beside the professor. He slams you down into the bed, the barrel of the gun trained on your head. 

“I suggest you don’t try that again,” the professor says darkly.  

You lay shaking on the bed, even after the gun is removed, now feeling hopeless. Even as the two men leave before the professor, you stay on the bed. Your ears perk up to the sound of a light hissing noise filling the room, the professor’s voice louder as he speaks over the noise.

“You’re more dangerous than you know,” Professor Thorton says ominously in the open doorway. Once the door is closed tightly behind him, the hissing grows louder. 

The only thing you can tell about the noise is that it’s coming from the top of the room. It fills your ears, affecting those senses first before you feel a tiredness settle over your body. “You’re more dangerous than you know,” echoes through your mind before you’re knocked out once more.

The first thing you feel when you awaken is a heavy warmth. It makes you think that you’re back home, safe in your bed and under the heat of your covers. However, you soon realize the warmth is radiating from inside you, not like how your bed makes you feel. 

Your eyes open with a whimper, adjusting easily to the dim light in the room. Though, you weren’t sure if the room was the right word to call it with the tall barred walls that surround you. It felt more like a cell than a room, and from the noises coming from the darkness in front of you, you weren’t in here alone. 

You sit up slowly, looking down at the thin shirt and shorts you wore. Whatever had knocked you out earlier did something to your body to make it to where you weren’t cold, even as you took in the cool temperature of the cell. Or it possibly could have been another experiment the professor had been working on. 

You brought a hand to your forehead, registering that the bandage from before was now gone. Even if you were still injured from having been knocked out the first time, your body didn’t focus on that, instead, the only thing it felt was the waves of heat washing over you, one after the other. Whatever the professor or that noise had done to you, it was now taking effect. 

The ground of the cell is lush, soft, and green. Even if it was artificial, it felt real, making you feel like you were in the forest and not trapped in a facility. The soft, cool grass is a welcome relief to your heated skin, making you want to sink right into the ground. 

Heavy footsteps in the darkness in front of you brought your attention back to the moment. Even if you knew it was Logan, it made you nervous. From the way Professor Thorton had spoken, he sounded like he was more beast than a man now. 

The closer he came, the more sounds you heard. Joining the heavy stomp of his feet is the sound of heavy breathing, getting louder and louder with each step. 

With what little energy you had, you moved backward on your hands, trying to keep your distance. You gasped and fell onto your forearms when you felt a warm slickness drip into your shorts. Brows furrowed, you looked down in confusion as you felt more of it staining your shorts. 

You realized that as Logan came closer, more slick came out. Once he was close enough to see his silhouette, pleasure accompanied the waves of warmth. Whatever was done to you was directly affected by Logan, and from the sound of Logan’s pants, it had an effect on him as well. 

Logan didn’t look all that different when he was close enough that you could actually see him. Sure, he looked disheveled, but it looked more like that night you spent together in your bed. Really, the only difference was his hair was longer than before, as was his beard as it blended with his sideburns.

“Logan?” You whisper. 

Logan responds with a growl, deep from within his chest. Clad in only a tight pair of boxers, Logan comes close enough to scent the air, his nose twitching as he breathes in deep. He lets out another noise, this one a rumble that feels as if it vibrates the ground below your body. 

He makes his way down between your legs, his arms on both sides of your body as he holds himself up. Still not completely sure that he wasn’t going to attack you, you lean onto the ground, letting your head fall back as Logan presses his face into the crook of your neck. 

Logan sniffs at the hot skin, his breath puffing out against your neck. You gasp at the feel of Logan’s tongue on your skin, burning wet as it runs along your neck. Upon pulling away, Logan lets out a pleased growl at the taste, his hands sneaking under your shirt. 

You let out a squeak as he tears at your shirt, leaving it ragged and torn, giving him more access to your skin. The first time you touch Logan is when his mouth has latched onto your nipple, your hand making its way into his hair. You arch into the heat of his mouth, your fingers tightening in the strands of his hair as Logan works your nipple between his teeth. 

You let out a moan when Logan moves to the other nipple, a gush of slick leaking from your hole. Even more falls free at the feel of Logan’s cock against your hip, hot and hard. It somehow feels even bigger than it had months ago, but with the slick still leaking from your hole, you doubt you had any reason to feel nervous. 

Logan yanks your pants down, leaving you naked and slick. He sucks in heavy breaths as he scents you once more, this time through his mouth like he’s trying to taste the way you smell. Your half hard cock lays between your thighs, which only grows harder with each passing second as Logan makes his way down your body. 

Logan licks up the beads of sweat he finds on his path, sending vibrations through your body as he groans at the taste. You shiver as his spit soon cools as he continues on, feeling like a lifetime has gone by when he’s finally reached your cock. 

Logan chases the pearl of precum that drips from the head of your cock, his tongue digging in the slit to try and coax more out. Your mouth falls open with a moan, feeling shameless even as you register that Professor Thorton was probably watching. 

Much to your dismay, Logan continues down your body. At the sound of displeasure you let out, Logan seemingly answers as he runs his hands up and down your thighs, like he’s trying to wordlessly apologize. 

You feel his hands move down your thighs one last time before they wrap around the back. You let out a yelp as Logan pushes your legs forward into a position you never knew your body could stretch into. 

Logan grips the back of your knees in a tight grip, even through the sweat. He licks at the slick that’s dripped down both of your thighs, one, and then the other. It leaves your legs wet with Logan’s saliva, instead of slick. 

When Logan’s tongue meets your hole, you’re left gasping from the wet sensation. Logan starts off with slow, broad licks, like he doesn’t want to let any drop go to waste. He licks over the furl of your hole until you’re relaxed enough that he can press his tongue inside. 

Logan moans at the taste, his tongue delving deeper to run along the walls of your hole. The sound goes straight to your cock, making it twitch and let out another drop of precum, the liquid running down your stomach. 

Your hands claw at the grass below your fingers as Logan gets his tongue as deep as it can go. You clench down on the wet appendage, feeling a spick of pleasure shoot through your body at the combination of Logan’s tongue, and the roughness of his beard against your ass cheeks.

Logan pulls back with a gasp, his chest heaving. He moved one of your legs to his broad shoulder, the other he still held in his solid grip. Two of his fingers make their way into the space his tongue just was, going deeper than his mouth could. You couldn’t remember every single detail of the nights you slept with Logan, but from what you could remember, you knew how thick his fingers were, and you knew that your body couldn’t normally take two in the way you were now. 

Logan’s fingers pulled a loud moan from your chest when the pads of his fingers met your prostate. Instead of meeting it once more, Logan pulled his fingers free so he could add a third. Still, your body took it like it was now made for it, Logan’s fingers gliding back inside to finally meet your prostate again.   

When Logan added a fourth finger, images flashed through your brain of Logan fitting his entire fist where his fingers were. At such a large intrusion, flickers of pain made their way through the channel Logan was carving for his cock, now making you nervous to know what Logan’s cock would feel like. It already felt like it had somehow gotten bigger just from the feel through Logan’s underwear, but now, you actually thought that might have been true. It wasn’t like you were going to ask Professor Thorton if that’s what his experiments on Logan were doing. 

Pain was soon drowned out with waves of intense pleasure as Logan assaulted your prostate, the sound of it loud in your ears. And once he felt that you were ready, Logan pulled his fingers free in a slow pull. 

Your other leg joined the first on Logan’s other shoulder, his hard cock still confined in his underwear. He rutted against your ass, the slick of your hole soaking into the fabric. Logan leaned in close, his breath mingling with yours. You thought he was going to kiss you, sending a feeling akin to longing through your veins. 

You placed your hands on Logan’s broad, muscular back, feeling the way his muscles flexed and moved as he did. You ran one of your hands down his spine until your fingers met the waistband of his underwear, your fingers sinking underneath. 

Logan ripped his underwear off to throw them into a wet heap to join your shirt and shorts, the head of his cock finally coming into contact with your hole. Unlike the fast ruts of his hips, Logan instead rolled his hips, his cock going back and forth across your hole. By the time the head was pressing inside, Logan’s cock was wet with your slick. 

You knew the fat, velvety head of Logan’s cock was just the beginning of what was to come, your body bracing itself. What you had done months ago was to get your body to relax to the intrusion, but now, your body is literally doing it for you. 

Logan’s cock bottoms out easily, even as you do in fact learn that yes, it has somehow gotten bigger. 

When once Logan gave you time to get used to it, spending minutes showering your face in kisses to try and help you get used to the girth of his cock, he now established a brutal pace. The only word you could possibly fathom as your brain was quickly being turned to mush from the pleasure running through your veins was animalistic. If Logan fought in the same way that he now fucked, it’s no wonder why the professor needed him under control. 

It’s too bad– or perhaps it was good with the way his cock hammered your prostate, you were the one to test if fucking it out of his system was actually going to work. For the time being, all you could do was surrender to the pleasure Logan eagerly gave. 

The moans and groans you let out only spurred Logan on, his cock pistoning in and out. It didn’t take long before you felt the familiar feeling build, starting in your cock. You tried to reach down so you could get your fingers wrapped around your cock, but at the sound of Logan’s snarl, your hand fell away. 

Too overcome with lust, there wasn’t any space left in your body to feel fear. Instead of feeling fear, your back arched off the ground, changing the angle of Logan’s thrusts so that his cock met your prostate each and every time. 

Your orgasm tore through your body in only a few thrusts, your mouth falling open with a silent scream. Honestly, you weren’t even sure if that scream was so silent, as moments later, your eyes opened, realizing that you had blacked out. 

Logan’s heavy weight rested on top of yours, and what little space he kept between your bodies was used to keep his hips moving. Even if your body felt relaxed and open, you could tell that something was happening to Logan’s cock as it grew bigger and stretched your walls.  

“Logan,” you whimpered, a mix of feelings running through your body all at once. There was no room to run as Logan’s arms wrapped around your ankles to get your legs further down his body. The position was more comfortable, leaving less of a strain on your thighs. Though it was more comfortable, it did little to help you get used to the feeling of Logan’s cock as it grew at the base. 

Logan held your body close, his head hovering just above yours. You almost wanted to lean up and kiss him, but after taking in the scrunched up look on Logan’s face, you instead placed a hand on his cheek. 

If you were scared, you couldn’t imagine what it was like for Logan. You didn’t know how long he had been in here, hell, it could have been ever since he left your town. 

“Will I ever see you again?” you had asked on the final day before Logan planned to leave. You smiled at the man, trying to mask the sadness you felt. 

“I’m sure you will,” Logan replied before leaning forward to press his lips to yours in a soft kiss. A momentary flicker of emotion ran across his face, letting you know that Logan was just as sad as you felt. 

“Logan,” you said softly, running your fingers along his cheek before his eyes popped open, “it’s okay,” you continued, staring into Logan’s dark eyes. 

Logan’s eyes scanned your face, a glint of the man you knew all those months ago made itself known before it was taken back over with the side Professor Thorton had brought out. He cums with a shout of pleasure, his hands slamming into the ground on either side of your body. An unidentifiable noise hits your ears– something sharp. Something painful. 

You feel full, so fucking full, and there’s some sick sense of comfort there that feels normal. Like you’re at home, instead of in this cell, and you just ate a good meal. Or, like you’re out with Logan and sharing one of the many lunches or dinners you spent together. 

Logan’s hands pull free from the ground as you feel his cock throb inside of you. As it pulses and lets out another spurt of cum, Logan moans, the noise light and breathy. 

You turn your head slightly to see one of his hands, blood dripping from the knuckles. Above you, Logan lets out a painful noise deep inside his chest as he pulls his hands to his chest, his hands clenched tightly. 

With both hands now only his face, cradling his head between your hands, your voice comes out a whimper when you speak, “it’s okay,” you repeat, feeling a pang of affection when Logan leans into the touch. 

You pull his body down on top of yours, his head candled between your neck and shoulder. You gasp at the way it makes his cock shift, still hard, and still locked deep inside you. You wrap your hands around Logan’s back, his going to your midsection to lift your body up off the ground slightly. If left your skin touching in yet another spot, making it hard for you to distinguish where you began, and where Logan ended. 

Arms tightened around your body when you heard that same hissing noise, your eyes already growing heavy. Faintly, you heard a whimpering noise beside your ear, and the press of lips to your skin before you’re overtaken by darkness. 

[axetivev]

*Papa!Reader & Jason walking together in Arkham Asylum*

Jason : Pa, you love me. Right?

Papa!Reader : Of course I do, why?

Jason : What If I do something bad?

...Like. Really bad?

Papa!Reader : Jason. What did you do?

Jason : Are you SURE you'd still love me though..?

Papa!Reader : ...

Jason : ...

*Jason was running away frantically*

Papa!Reader chasing Jason : JASON PETER TODD. WHAT DID YOU DO!?

[obsessivevoidkitten]

The Mantis and His Moth

Yandere FtM Mantis Hybrid Cultist x Male Moth Hybrid Reader CW: Noncon, forced oral sex, aphrodisiac pheromones, musk, scent kink, eating pussy like it's groceries, pussy eating on period, minor character death, human-hybrid sacrifice, fictional religions, indoctrination, brainwashing, cannibalism, terms like pussy and cunt used for trans male genitals, dick riding, biting, overstimulation, non-sexual bondage, drenched in pussy juice, partially suffocated by pussy, public but discrete pussy eating, praise Word Count: 3.6k (Comm for @vanberryhearts, their OC Salem Blackthorn can be viewed HERE)

You grunted as you carried the box. You weren’t very strong, and it was filled to the brim with cans of food to go to the church’s community food drive and you were carrying it around back. The back door was closer to the basement and it was easier to walk it around then go through multiple rooms in the church. Plus the building was all locked up anyway. You had meant to bring the food earlier but you had gotten caught up with other matters.

That was okay though, the fence that led to the back of the property was ajar, so you were just gonna leave the food on the back porch and it would be easy for the priest, Salem Blackthorn, to take it down when he found it there the next morning. He was a strong mantis hybrid man and could carry down much more easily than a small moth hybrid like you.

After you sat down the box you started making your way off the porch, but as you did so the door suddenly opened and Salem stepped out carrying a large object that had been well wrapped in some type of cloth.

When he saw you he seemed surprised but you were already stepping forward and helping him with what he was holding. You barely noticed that the robes he was wearing, while ornate and clearly for religious purpose, were not the typical garb of a priest. They covered most of his body. The hood hid his tan skin, pretty blond hair, and relatively short antennae from the world.

“Oh wow, this is really heavy! I don’t mind helping, where are we taking-”

You tripped on the step off the porch, unbalancing Salem and causing him to drop what he was carrying. It fell right off the porch and landed beside you. The wrapping had been damaged and peeled away and what you saw took a moment for your brain to register.

A bloody corpse with bites ripped out of it in many places.

Before you could think to move Salem was upon you, pulling you into the church and down into the basement with a hand firmly over your mouth as he whispered into your ear.

“I’m sorry dove, you really weren’t supposed to see that.”

The priest took you into the room farthest from the stairs then put a gag over your mouth and left you tied in a chair in the middle of the room before running back upstairs, presumably to take care of the fallen “package” that he had left uncovered outside. He left you alone long enough for you to get a good look at your surroundings. You had never been down here before.

And after taking note of what was around you doubted many people that had seen this place were still alive.

In front of you there was an altar. A medium sized and intricately stone sculpture of a spider lay in the center. In front of the statue was a large silver goblet filled with blood. An offering. The sculpture’s eyes were inlaid rubies and its gaze filled you with despair. It was a depiction of the arachnid goddess, Arachna. She was mostly worshiped these days by small clandestine groups huddled in small dark rooms hidden from the gaze of society.

Much like this room.

Though you certainly hadn’t expected a worshiper of the insect god, The Great Moth Regalis, to be a disciple of the foul Arachna. Though you supposed that’s exactly why it was such a perfect cover.

Not fighting wasn’t an option. You struggled with every ounce of strength that you had. Sweat dripped down your brow. You didn’t want to end up another bitten corpse with your blood in that goblet as a sacrifice to the spider goddess.

You wriggled and writhed in your binds, drawing blood from various places where the ropes chaffed your bare skin. Your wings burned with the effort of flexing and vibrating them to try and squirm free. And your throat ached with the burden of trying to scream through your gag.

The binds were too formidable. Clearly made by someone who was experienced with this sort of thing.

All your struggles amounted to was making the chair you were in lean over and fall, causing your head to smack painfully against the cold concrete floor. You almost wished it had been enough to knock you out or even kill you outright, then and there, then you wouldn’t have to be conscious for the fate that surely awaited you as soon as Salem returned. All that you could do was cry as you awaited death.

Salem was so frustrated. How could he have allowed this to happen? He had left the gate unlocked allowing you to just traipse upon him right at the exact moment that he was hauling out the body?? The timing was absurd! What were the odds?

He ran over to shut and lock the gate that allowed passage to the back of the church before returning to the body. He re-wrapped the body properly, as it was an important part of the ritual, as he pondered what to do about you.

Killing you was out of the question entirely. Aside from the fact that he never killed any permanent resident or their visiting family, to avoid arousing suspicion, he also harbored quite a strong crush on you. He had sense he first laid eyes on you during his first sermon.

Your eyes stared up at him hanging on every word that passed his lips. So devout, so diligent in your charitable works, so deliciously… innocent…

Oh, how he longed to corrupt you. And to make it even better you were a regal moth hybrid. Such hybrids were regarded as being good luck to those around them as the insect god Regalis was a regal moth himself.

Just the thought of indoctrinating you into the cult made his heart flutter and wetness flow from his crotch. It would take his defiling of the mother religion to new heights and surely make Arachna happy.

The mantis had not yet put his desires into motion. He had planned to slowly get you more and more attracted to him before working on getting you addicted to his pheromones until you were totally dependent on him. Now it appeared that he would have to rush forward without much subtlety. But that was okay, he could definitely do so.

He finished with the body, taking it to a pit he had dug earlier, and placed it in carefully before topping it with a small apple sapling. Just one of many that would match the little orchard he had growing in the field behind the church.

You flinched when you heard the door open and trembled with pure fear, your mind conjured forth innumerable horrors, all the manners in which he may torture and eventually kill you went through your terrified mind. You renewed your futile bid for freedom, floundering about as best you were able.

When Salem saw you he scoffed.

“Tsk, tsk.”

He bent down to right your chair and brushed your cheek with all the tenderness in the world after doing so before placing a gentle kiss on your tear soaked cheek.

“There, there, my little moth. No need to be so scared.”

Obviously, those words did nothing to dispel you of the terror that had so thoroughly stricken you, if you even took notice of them at all with all the adrenaline coursing through you and your heart beating faster than it ever had before.

You looked up at him with pleading eyes as sobs racked your body.

“Aww. Please don’t worry, pretty thing, you won’t be suffering too much longer.”

This made you shake and sob much harder. This was it. That was his way of telling you that he was going to snuff out your life. That you’d be joining that other body wherever it had been dragged off to. You’d be offered up like a slab of meat to the vile spider. You were getting dizzy and hyperventilating. This couldn’t be happening. You were a good man and you had so much to live for. So much good to do.

Then something unexpected happened. Salem disrobed himself of the cultist garb he had been cloaked in, revealing a drooling pussy and dizzying your mind now not with a lack of air but with his musky pheromones.

He spoke as if reading your thoughts.

“Don’t worry, I am not going to fuck then eat you. That’s actually a harmful stereotype derived from feral regular mantises, not something a mantis hybrid does!”

You really had no reason to believe him.

Though he did lure in tasty horny sacrifices in with a promise of sex before forcing them to eat him out, to dose them with his pheromones, before partially eating them alive and then killing them. But that was because it was what Arachna demanded! Not because he was a mantis hybrid!

Still, he had no intention of harming you and you did not require the extra details at this time.

The tall man undid your gag and let it fall away before replacing it with his dripping wet cunt, pushing your head into it gently but firmly. You tried to move your head but were ultimately unable to avoid the smell and taste of his sex.

The smell was just amazing, slowly making you blush and your face feel overheated. The feeling soon spread all over your entire body. It relaxed your tense muscles and caused your member to tent in your pants. You whimpered in need as you began eagerly slipping your tongue into your captor, lapping at his surprisingly sweet pussy juice.

He smiled down at you, removing his hand as he no longer needed to force your face into it after his pheromones took effect.

“Such a good boy for me~”

No one could resist the scent of his pussy when presented directly in their face. They’d feel no pain and every touch would feel amazing. It didn’t hurt that little mothies like you were naturally attracted to sweet nectar-like fluids.

Your moans and overstimulated whimpers were just precious to him. Making him wetter and wetter. He toyed with his clit as he allowed you to drink up his fluid at your own pace. Your face was already absolutely drenched.

It seemed as if there was just no end to the impossibly delicious fluid that flowed from him like a fountain.

He had to push you away so that he could untie you and remove your soaked clothes, revealing your excited cock. You weren’t even paying any attention, just trying to get back into that pussy. When you were finally released you dove right back into it, clinging to him with both of your arms as you slurped his cunt.

When he came it was a fresh torrent of pheromones even more potent than the last. You became so overstimulated that you could barely move. He guided you to another room in the basement, one that was closer to the door.

You could barely stand by the time he got you through the door so he gently picked you up and carried you to a soft bed, laying your pussy juice covered body down carefully as if he was afraid you would shatter to dust in his hands.

If you had been one of his usual victims, one of the tourists he lured in off the street, this is when he would have started devouring you to death before draining out your blood and wrapping you in spider webbing. But you were his cute little moth so he would treat you with the utmost care. And one day you would help kill tasty snacrifices for Arachna. It would be Salem’s perfect relationship.

But until then there was something more urgent that needed attending to.

He lowered himself down onto your hard cock as he placed a finger coated in his nectar for you to suck while he rid you. He took his time, savoring the delicious moment when he took his sweet little new boyfriend for the first time.

You didn’t last very long at all inside the heat of his pussy, quickly mingling his fluids with your cum. You cried as you climaxed, it was all so much. The feel of the silk beneath you, the touch of his teeth gently nibbling and sucking the flesh of your neck, his hands trailing up and down your sides. Every touch against your skin made you shiver in pleasure.

It was all okay though, Salem didn’t mind at all. His naturally drugged juices kept you hard and ready to go several times over, he didn’t stop riding you until your balls had been thoroughly emptied into him and each orgasm began to approach the borderline of pleasure into pain. He had finished while riding you a couple times as well. The sight of your pretty little face gasping and moaning with the burden of too much pleasure, your erratically twitching antenna, your sporadically fluttering wings, practically sent him into a rut. Made him feel a primal urge to fuck you over and over until you were soaked to the bone in his juices and no one could deny you were his and his alone.

You were the only moth worthy of worshiping and giving pleasure. Not that pitiful god of yours. He’d make you convert to his faith with an unyielding flood of sex and love.

And that was exactly what Salem did.

Every waking moment, barring those where he had to maintain his priestly facade, were spent in unfathomable pleasure followed by aftercare and honeyed words. Sex, pheromones, cuddling, doting, feeding (he often mixed his very own pheromone laden “sauce” into your meals). But mostly the sex. You tried to remain devout, to maintain the hold on your beliefs, and while it took longer than Salem had expected the transformation was all the stronger for having been tested so thoroughly.

There was a brief relapse in the early days of the process. One of the church’s nuns had entered the bedroom you were being kept in down in the basement. You begged her for help as hope returned to your heart, only to be dashed as she held up a spider pendant. That’s when you realized all the nuns must be members of the cult too. Later that day, in response to having asked for help, Salem was extra “attentive.”

Despite the brief setback, your mind eventually transformed. You found yourself hopelessly clingy and in need of your Salem. You no longer needed pheromones for sex and were more than eager to taste him or slip inside him and often initiated the encounters yourself. When the two of you weren’t busy making love you clung to his arm. He made you feel happy and secure.

He no longer kept you locked in the basement, instead you attended services as normal. Making up an illness as an excuse for your previous absence.

But the changes to your ways of thinking and behavior didn’t stop at being hopelessly in need of your mantis boyfriend. He had also successfully moved you to the worship of Arachna. It thrilled Salem to no end knowing he had fully converted you, a moth of all things, into being a being of sinful debauchery and Arachna worship.

But there was still one important thing left to do to officially solidify your position in his cult. Your baptism in blood. You were nervous, but eager to appease your new goddess. And of course your boyfriend. In no small part because he said that after you did this with him then you could get married in the eyes of Arachna.

All you had to do was make your first sacrifice. Salem assured you that he would lure them down and drug them, all you would need to do is kill them with him and help wrap them in the traditional way that Arachna demanded.

You were really nervous, but Salem calmed you down. He selected yet another tourist who he said deserved it. Whose greatest contribution in life would be as a sacrifice to Arachna. He assured you that he was doing a service, he only selected the scum of society. He had mystic ways of knowing the kinds of things that they did.

Though at this point your mantis had so much control over you that even if he had told you that you were killing an angel you probably could have been convinced that you were doing the right thing for Arachna.

The soon to be corpse that Salem had selected for you was an ant hybrid. He eagerly followed the handsome priest down, thinking he was getting lucky with a priest of his religion. Which Salem pointed out was further proof that he was vile. Followers of the moth were not to seek pleasure from someone of the cloth, if he was a half decent person he would not violate his own religion so readily.

Salem had him sit in one of the rooms in the basement, they both disrobed and Salem guided the ant’s head to his cunt, forcing him to get drunk in much the same way you had been your first time with Salem.

Though this hybrid’s night started similarly to yours it would end quite differently.

After he was thoroughly inebriated from the musk and pheromones produced by Salem’s sex he was led by Salem into the altar room where you were waiting anxiously.

Since you were unable to bite him to death like Salem you used a knife instead. It was a small mercy as it ended him much more quickly. Not that it would have mattered, he was so drugged that he wouldn’t have felt anything but pleasure anyway.

“A-and you promise this won’t cause him any pain?”

Salem stroked your arm comfortingly.

“Of course not my little moth, he will feel nothing but pleasure and through his death he will be cleansed in the many eyes of Arachna. We are saving his immortal soul by discarding his corrupted flesh.”

With renewed resolve you leaned him over a bucket and slit his throat allowing the warm blood to pool into the goblet before you set it before the statue. Your mantis has you at least lick the knife. It was a jarring metallic taste that made you flinch and curl your antenna in disgust. Salem chuckled and assured you that you’d get used to it.

And you did, during subsequent sacrifices the mantis hybrid would bite pieces off the victim for you since you lacked teeth sharp enough to do so. Then he’d chew the chunks and feed them to you while the two of you made out so you could enjoy the full ritual. You definitely learned to enjoy the flavor of fresh meat and blood.

When all the blood had left the ant man you wrapped the body up in your own silk as Salem guided you in how to do the wrapping then the two of you hauled him out, Salem doing the antlion’s share of the work, and buried him before planting a tree.

Many months after your first kill, on a Sunday morning, Salem was giving a sermon. Your fellow church goers thought you were absent from service but you were present, just not in view. Not in their view anyway. You were closer to the priest than any of them. Right under the pulpit. It was a grand fixture, large and imposing, wrapping around and concealing all of Salem’s sides. Perfect, as it turned out, for concealing a lover worshiping between the mantis’ legs.

You were making out with his pussy, kissing and licking it lovingly and deeply. You started letting out little whimpers and gasps as his extra potent pheromones kicked in. He was on his period and it seemed the blood you were lapping up gave his juices an extra punch. As you began to forget just exactly where you were, getting lost in his bloody cunt, you began to make soft moans and whimpers.

Salem continued his sermon unabashed, passionately railing against the sins of the flesh. Preaching about how Regalis demanded marriage before fornication, as he carefully took one of his hands and pushed you into his crotch to silence your noises before they got any louder.

You had some difficulty breathing as his sex threatened to drown you, but you continued to seek out the unique flavor and musk. Your antenna curled as you came untouched, your moan thankfully muffled by Salem.

Salem came soon after, his pussy absolutely gushing all over you. All the stimulation, all the taboo thrill of getting oral sex from his little mothy while making a mockery of the opposing religion, honoring Arachna through hedonism, the sight of his debauched darling struggling for breath and looking up at him with half lidded eyes lost in pleasure, it all culminated in the best orgasm of his life.

He didn’t let it show on his face though.

Salem wrapped up his sermon, once more reminding the church goers to resist temptation as they filed out the door. When the last one left he stopped pressing your face into him. You gasped for breath momentarily but went right back to licking him clean.

The mantis smiled at the scene below him, you were covered in his lubricant, face smeared with his blood, you looked absolutely ruined just for him.

“Such a good boy.”

He stroked your wet cheek as he allowed you to continue for a while, basking in the pleasant sensation, until finally he took you back downstairs. He’d worry about cleaning under the pulpit later. Right then it was more important he cleaned you up and rewarded you for such a good job.

[one-green-frog]

Hi! I was so happy when I saw that your requests were open for your platonic yandere batfam series, also I’m sorry if I send in too many, just do the ones that interest you bc I can’t wait to see them!!

Can I please request them dragging you to a family movie night and sleepover (if you want) together

Snuggled in

By now, it felt like you had lived at the manor since the very beginning. The grand halls, the endless corridors, and the hidden nooks and crannies—all of it was as familiar to you as the back of your hand.

Your life had settled into a new normal. Or at least, as normal as it could be when surrounded by the Wayne family and their complete and utter devotion to you. They were obsessed, and you knew it. Their attention was intense, overwhelming at times, but you had grown to accept it. Maybe even crave it. The way they cared for you, how they anticipated your needs before you even voiced them—it was comforting, intoxicating even.

Earlier today, Dick had texted you.

"Movie night. I'll come get you later."

There was no room for declination, not that you wanted to refuse. Movie nights were one of the best things about living at the manor, especially when everyone was present. It wasn’t just about the films—it was about them, about the closeness, the warmth of being surrounded by people who made you feel safe. Sure, you loved spending time with them individually, but when they were together, it felt like a real family, a family you never wanted to leave.

So, all that was left to do now was wait, to enjoy the "calm before the storm."

It didn’t take long before Dick appeared in your doorway, his signature grin in place as he grabbed your hand and practically dragged you toward the theater room. His grip was firm—just a bit tighter than necessary, as if he feared you might pull away. As if he was still afraid you might reject them.

You knew they had doubts. That paranoia whispered to them constantly, telling them that your love for them wasn’t real, that one day, if they let their guard down, you’d disappear. It hurt knowing they feared that, but at the same time, you understood. They knew what they were doing wasn’t exactly right. The way they needed you, the way they clung to you—it was too much, even by their own standards. And yet, they couldn’t stop.

And you? You didn’t fight it. Maybe you should have, but deep down, you liked the way they cared for you. How they made you feel wanted.

When you arrived, everyone was already there, and unsurprisingly, a spot had been saved just for you. Judging by the tension in the air, there must have been a fight before you got here. The privilege of sitting next to you wasn’t something any of them would just give up. It seemed that this time, Damian and Dick had won, both looking entirely too pleased with themselves while the others shot them varying degrees of annoyance.

But now that you were here, no one dared to argue.

Time with you was precious, something none of them wanted to risk ruining. You were the one thing that held them together, that kept them from spiraling apart. They all knew it.

“Jason, why don't you pick the movie?” you said as you settled into your seat.

Jason raised a brow, looking mildly surprised but pleased. He was always good at picking movies, always knowing exactly what suited your mood. Sometimes, he chose thrillers, knowing you enjoyed the adrenaline rush. Other times, he picked romances, sweet and indulgent. No matter what he chose, you knew it would be perfect.

But in the end, the movie never really mattered.

Because the real highlight was always the closeness, the warmth of your family surrounding you.

Dick wasted no time wrapping himself around you, his body practically molding to yours. He had always been the most physically affectionate, taking any excuse to hold you. On your other side, Damian leaned against you, quiet but solid, his presence grounding. He never admitted it, but during movie nights, he always ended up snuggled against you like a cat seeking warmth.

Time passed in a comfortable blur. The others rotated around you, each finding a way to be close. Jason would ruffle your hair as he got up to grab snacks, Tim would drape himself lazily against your side when exhaustion took over, and even Bruce—ever the stoic—would rest a steady hand on your shoulder, a silent reassurance that he was there.

It was getting late, the movie long ended and the comforting presence of everyone slowly lulled you to sleep. You tried to fight it, wanting to enjoy the moment more, but at some point you lost the fight with sleep.

Your head grew heavier, your body sinking into the warmth around you. The others noticed almost immediately. Their voices quieted, movements slowed, as if afraid to wake you.

Bruce was the first to move. Carefully, he lifted you into his arms, his grip firm yet gentle, while Dick untangled Damian from your lap. He fell asleep first and somehow always ending up in your lap, snuggling into you as if seeking your warmth. The transition was smooth, practiced. They had done this before.

Your room was dark and quiet when Bruce laid you down, pulling the blankets over you with practiced ease. He lingered, brushing a hand through your hair, his eyes never leaving your face.

You had saved him. Saved all of them.

Bruce had long believed that some wounds would never heal, that his family would remain fractured, bound together only by shared tragedy. But then you came along—his son, his light, the one thing that brought them back together.

There were many things he regretted. Things he would never be able to fix.

But with you here, it felt like he had a second chance.

That was enough.

And as he sat beside you, watching over you as you slept, he let himself believe—just for tonight—that everything was exactly as it should be.

Taglist: @lilyalone

This was so much fun writing!

Thank you so much for requesting, I'll get to your other ask as soon as possible!

[flyervel]

Your stepdad was absolutely mad at you seeing your grades low. Frustrated, he took all of your gadgets. Everything was on him, leaving you have to study to get them back. But of course, this didn’t help. But your stepdad have his own tricks of his sleeve.

You were forced to sit down to your study desk, at first it was the simple things. Calculus, history, everything, he knew you’d just distracted yourself with whatever you could think of, he stopped mid teaching. Walking to you with glare, before then he unbuttoned his pants to his cunt. His wet absolutely desperate for attention cunt dripping with glory which moved your attention into it.

“I’ll give you this if you get a good grades.” He said with a smirk on his face as he showed his flesh up to your face. Making your pants felt uncomfortable and your cock twitching.

Before words could come out, he kneed down, his hands swiftly unbuttoned your pants to find your hard cock, weeping with precum. You’re eyes widened as your stepdad took your length to his mouth. It felt so good your eyes rolled, his warm mouth sucking and the slurping sounds made it better.

“C’mon boy, study more. I’ll let you breed me if you do,” Your stepdad said while he kissed your angry tip before shoving all of it into his mouth.

As he gagged, his words stuck to your mind. Immediately you became motivated, studying harder then ever before while you moved your hips forward to fuck his throat before cumming, your seed on his throat, your stepdad snapped his fingers to your face. Getting your attention, he swallowed everything.

[starboye]

simon riley who doesn't believe in breaking up

you can get mad at him all you want and he wont bat an eye but trust the moment you utter a word of breaking up he's making sure to hammer that thought right of your mind

fucking you into the bed with all his force while repeating how you're his forever and he's yours forever, doesn't matter what you or him do he'll never stop loving you

hell you could shoot him him and he'd still love you unconditionally

[murderofpigeons]

THIS IS HILARIOUS 😭😭

SWEET TREATS

pairing: thanos x male reader

synopsis: You and Thanos get high and make a bet.

content warnings: 18+, no actual smut, mostly crack, weed usage, semi-nudity (they stack donuts on their dicks).

word count: 0.7k (its pretty short lol)

It started out as a normal night.

You had a routine with Thanos—hang out at his place, mess around, talk shit, and eat whatever snacks one of you happened to bring. Tonight, you showed up at his door with a box of donuts, the good kind with the custard filling and powdered sugar that got everywhere.

Thanos answered the door in sweatpants and a hoodie, looking like he had just rolled off his couch. “What’s up?”

You lifted the box. “Brought bribes.”

He smirked, stepping aside to let you in. “That depends. Are we talking gas station donuts or real donuts?”

“The hell kinda question is that? I have standards.”

That earned you an approving nod as you strolled past him into the apartment. His place wasn’t fancy, but it was comfortable—lived-in, full of random shit that only made sense to him. Some game controllers were scattered across the floor, the TV was still on from whatever he’d been watching earlier, and a faint smell of weed hung in the air.

“Damn, man,” you said, kicking off your shoes and collapsing onto the couch. “Didn’t even wait for me to start the party?”

Thanos grabbed a lighter off the table and flopped down next to you. “Figured you’d catch up.”

And so, you did.

After a few lazy hits, the both of you were comfortably buzzed, passing the blunt back and forth between bites of donuts. The conversation meandered from deep philosophical debates (which superhero had the worst life) to aggressively stupid topics (could a horse wear pants, and if so, how).

Everything was good. Relaxed. Just another night hanging out—until Thanos, in his infinite wisdom, leaned forward and changed the course of history.

"Alright," he said, looking at you with a sudden intensity that was both alarming and hilarious. "New bet."

You took another bite of your donut, already skeptical. “Oh, this should be good.”

Thanos smirked. “Whoever can stack the most donuts on their dick… wins.”

A beat of silence.

You blinked. “What.”

“You heard me.”

“No, no, I did. I just—” You gestured vaguely, like the sheer stupidity of the challenge was too big to be contained by words. “You want us to—what? Balance donuts on our junk like some kind of carnival game?”

Thanos shrugged, completely unfazed. “Scared you’ll lose?”

You sat up, narrowing your eyes. “I’d win.”

“Big talk for a guy who hasn’t even tried.”

“Oh, screw you, I’m in.”

And just like that, the dumbest competition of your lives began.

What followed was a series of events that neither of you would ever be able to explain to another human being.

The concentration. The frustration. The pure, unfiltered determination.

"Dude, stop laughing," you gritted out, trying to balance another donut.

"I'm not laughing," Thanos wheezed, very much laughing.

You threw a pillow at his face. "You're shaking the damn couch, you menace!"

"Not my fault you're weak," he shot back, squinting down at his own tower of donuts with the intensity of a man trying to solve a complex physics equation.

For a moment, silence. The air was thick with tension. Your focus was absolute.

Then—victory.

"HA!" you shouted, hands flying up as the last donut successfully stacked on top of your pile, beating Thanos by one.

Thanos blinked, looking from your donut tower to his, then back to you. Slowly, his expression darkened.

"Motherfucker—"

Before he could finish, he lunged. You barely had time to react before you were wrestling like two idiots, rolling off the couch in a tangle of limbs, crushed donut remains, and wheezy, half-giggled insults.

"Take the L, loser!"

"Screw you, rematch!"

"You wanna cry about it?"

The playfight ended when you both collapsed back onto the couch, exhausted, crumbs everywhere, Thanos half on top of you. He was still grumbling under his breath about his defeat, but you could feel the laughter shaking his shoulders.

You yawned, stretching lazily. "Admit it. I'm the donut stacking champion."

Thanos huffed, but you could see the corner of his mouth twitch. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

A comfortable silence settled between you, the warmth of the room mixing with the leftover haze in your brain. Thanos didn't move off you, and you didn't make him (even though his dick was uncomfortably lodged between your thighs). You were both too tired to care.

"...Next time," Thanos mumbled, eyes fluttering shut, "I'm bringing bagels. Just wait."

You snorted, already half-asleep. "You're on."

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time, and I take genuine effort to do them.

[dao-afterdark]

oubaitori

(n.) the idea that people, like flowers, bloom in their own time and in their own individual ways.

warning(s): male!reader, reader is straight (for now), brief mention of financial abuse, assholey behavior, threats, queer themes.

a/n: finally i have something to post on here! i was having such a hard time trying to figure out what to do, but i think i got something now. thank you @sooniebby for offering to help, and being one of my main big inspirations to even make a blog like this. here → is wei’s little bio if you’re curious! this is technically supposed to be a drabble, or an intro to what i’m attempting to create! please enjoy 🙏🏼.

Life’s full of surprises; some good, some bad, some marvelous, and some downright ugly.

You fled your parents house the moment you were able too; freeing yourself from the shackles of financial abuse and the stifling atmosphere.

One of your friends from high school, Cody, had a friend who had enough room for you to live at, and you took the opportunity without hesitation.

Normally you wouldn’t stay with a complete stranger, but you’re desperate, plus you’re sure you can handle yourself.

You arrive at the address that was sent to you and raise your fist, but the door swings open before it can make contact with the wood.

There stands a distraught and disheveled young man, a college student like you, you guessed. His fair skin was flushed from emotion, and his eyes were wet and wild.

“Uh.. Are you Wei…?” you ask hesitantly.

The man’s expression suddenly sours, his dark eyes narrowing in on you, lips curled into a sneer. “Who are you?”

The accusatory tone has you blinking, gobsmacked, but annoyance quickly begins to brew in your gut. You open your mouth to defend yourself when another voice from inside cuts in. It’s nice on the ears, but twinged with vexation.

“Yo…”

From behind the defensive man comes another man, his black curls wild and partially tangled, torso bare minus the barbell’s that adorn his nipples- something you stared at for far longer than you should’ve- and the robe that’s barely hanging onto him. He’s barefooted and wearing fuzzy, Hello Kitty pajama bottoms.

“…What’re you still doing here? Didn’t I tell you to leave already?”

From that statement alone, you knew pretty quickly what the situation had to be.

“Who’s he? Another person you’re toying with?” spits the irked man, glaring with betrayal at the man you assume is Wei, his thumb directed at you.

Wei rolls his eyes, a smile full of exasperation on his face. “Respectfully, get the fuck outta my house. You’re not my boyfriend, you freak.”

“Fuck you, Wei!”

“I’m good. I had my fill,” Wei throws back with a careless shrug.

“You’ll regret this..”

The heartbroken man then shoves into you as he storms off in a fury, the gate rattling and clanging as it’s slammed shut. It makes your ears hurt.

Some regret and agitation floods in your system.

Wei then draws your attention, pinching his chin with his thumb and fore finger, squinting at you. “Sorry about that, but uh, who are you? I don’t think we’ve fucked before…?”

You balk at his words, heat rising in your face. You defensively sputter out, “W-What?! No! We’ve never met before!”

“Oh! Sooo who are you exactly then?” Wei asks, leaning casually against the doorframe with his arms crossed, studying you with curious garnet eyes.

“I’m supposed to be your new roommate? I’m sure Cody mentioned me?” you explained, a little frustrated and flustered.

Realization eventually floods Wei’s face. “…OH! Cody’s friend! Shit that’s today!? Fuck, I’m sorry dude! Here come in!”

He rushes back inside the house and a hefty sigh leaves your lips, uncertainty clouding your mind.

Great. It seems like your roommate is a playboy of sorts. Hopefully that drama doesn’t trickle into your life…

᭄᭡ decor credits to: @/ribbonrabbitdaycare, velaazuretail, caecusmedicus

[tiki-was-here]

It is so late in the night and I don’t have my glasses on so idec if this makes any sense but-

« ⋅ʚ🍎ɞ⋅ »

Need homelander and reader who’ve just gotten into an actual relationship and are still figuring out each other’s preferences. After a night of… taking care of yourself you leave out to work only to come back to find your apartment ransacked and all of your toys lazered to nothing but lumps of silicone.

Homelander’s there waiting for you looking like a disappointed teacher but you practically see the effort it takes to contain his rage because “How dare you disrespect like that? Fucking yourself with these worthless pieces of trash when you have the best dick in the US at your disposal?”

Very quickly ignoring the glaring red flag that is the fact that he must have been stalking you in order to know your business you have absolutely no problem apologizing to him for your gross misconduct.

You do this of course- by bouncing up and down on his cock with energy that you shouldn’t have considering you just had a full day of work.

Homelander’s so close to forgetting what he was even upset about cus all he can focus on is your voice whispering praises into his ear, telling him how he’s so pretty and he’s the only person that could make you feel so good. That you were thinking of him when you were fucking yourself last night but nothing compares to the feeling of his hands on your hips and his lips trailing down your neck.

And by the end of the night when your sheets are stained with cum you can’t help but hope that he doesn’t find out about the new set of toys you’re definitely gonna order. Because if this is how he fucks when he’s upset you’ve got a lot in store for him.

[bloody-night]

Slow

(Harmony) Sunday x male reader

fluff

What time was it again? Midday…? You were sure it’s been a while since you’ve both been inside your bedroom. You and your ‘new’ lover.

Although you have had the hots for him since before his conversion to a passenger. In Penacony, always seeing him past the corner of your eyes, before finally able to talk to him face to face. Later on to fighting him with the others, tough times.

After sometime of not seeing him, you finally saw his new and altered self, missing his beautiful halo but enjoying his newest looks. Now here you both are, in the same train, same room, together.

“Dove, are you alright?” You whispered, holding his gloved hands in yours, your thumb rubbing circles on them. Sunday grinned softly, enjoying your touch. “Yes… I’m alright my dear.” He whispered, looking up to you. His cheeks covered in slight pink. “Though… I think I… want a kiss.” He had finally asked, after being patient for him.

First time he’s ever been in a relationship after his freedom given by the IPC, after everything. He was flustered about being with you, extremely shy, but little by little he opened up more and more.

You chuckled softly, nodding a bit. “Of course, I’ll give you a small peck.” You hummed, leaning in, seeing Sunday’s wings tremble slightly with how close you got. Your lips landed on his, feeling his soft and cared lips, before you pulled away.

“There.” You whispered, grinning at your partner. Sunday chuckled a bit, his wings hiding his red face, a chuckle leaving your throat as you found it adoring. Your hand still caressing and comforting his hands.

You hummed and waited for him to relax, listening to your music playing as you held his hands, waiting patiently.

“Ugh! C’mon you guys! Time to eat!” You heard March 7th groaned loudly, knocking on your door before leaving to eat. You chuckled, seeing Sunday peek at the door. “We should head out, I’m starving.” You mumbled, standing up and stretching before grabbing onto your boyfriend.

Sunday stood up, stretching as well as he yawned, wings flapping on his cheeks. “Right.” He spoke, clearing his throat. “Ah… hold on.” He whispered, grabbing your arm, stopping you from opening your door. “Hm?” You questioned, glancing at your partner.

Sunday smiled softly as he leaned to kiss your lips, lasting longer this time. He gave a small grunt as he gave your bottom lip a little licked before heading out before you. Leaving you standing in a stun. You chuckled and jogged after him.

[thatguywrites]

F1 grid with Chronic pain Boyfriend

Verstappen, Piastri, Hamilton, Alonso, Bottas

Headcannons

Max Verstappen

Pays for the highest level medical care for you

Whatever helps your pain the most, braces, medications, straight up weed, you've got it in abundance

He'll always give you massages, or run hot baths for you whenever you need

When you start to get fatigued, and lean on things more than not, he's instantly at your side

He's more than willing to spend a whole day in bed with you if you just don't feel like getting out of bed

Advocates more for disabled people, beyond paralysis, looking into the Chronic pain that racing can cause like the back pain Fernando and Lewis have ended up with

Lewis

Funds a lot of research into your condition and similar other conditions

Speaks out about it a ton

Pays any fees necessary (I mean if mental health is included ig?)

Finds acceptable fashion, things that don't snag on your mobility aids or clash with your braces

Helps you do pt exercises

Considers training Roscoe to be a service animal for you

Decides on getting you a pretrained breed of your choice instead

Fernando Alonso

Makes sure his drivers room always has everything that helps you

Let's use use his body to support your joints

Will massage your joints as long as you agree to massage his back later

Or not, hes not too pressed

He likes buying fun gadgets that are supposed to help

He hates seeing you in pain, so he figures that whatever money can buy you will have

Valtteri Bottas

Encourages you to bike for pt, or to just to move

Finds/designs braces that fit your esthetic so you never feel uncomfortable wearing them

Always brings you to the sauna when yall are in Finland so that your joints don't get too cold

Is also perfectly ok vacationing wherever is best for you

Spain? Sounds good

America? Sure

Japan? Wonderful!

He's also very adaptable day to day, if you need to cancel because of pain he'll never complain

Taglist (Comment or DM to be added)

@koalapastries @justaf1girl @spoonfulofmilo @lokisen