#so I can squeeze a lot of meals out of stuff

[docholligay]

One extreme benefit of my being gone so long is that my wife had to do the grocery shopping, and found out that yes, groceries are very expensive, and yes, considering I feed five people on the regular I do an excellent job.

It's not that she was ever accusing me of doing a shitty one, but I have done all the grocery shopping, meal planning, and cooking for what....eight or nine years now? And she just did not realize how hard I work to keep the grocery bill down.

[rambling-at-midnight]

Guide Me Home

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: While walking downtown, you inhale fear toxin. It's up to the Bats to find you before your heart gives out.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: Scarecrow attack, (kind of) graphic hallucinations (only a small allude to blood though)

Fun fact: As I wrote this, 'quiet' started to not look like a word anymore.

You rub at your eye, muttering below your breath. Wind has been whipping through the Gotham streets all day, drying out your contacts to the point of discomfort.

The next time you blink, one flips up. Cursing, you cup a hand over the affected eye and blink until the stupid contact rights itself. Digging around your purse, you find your suspicions to be true: after the last time you needed to use your emergency backup contacts, you forgot to replace them. The small bottle of contact solution is missing, lost to the abyss of the purse or somewhere else. All you know is that it’s not here.

The only alternative is your glasses, and those are always a last resort. With an outdated prescription, uncomfortably heavy bridge, and scratched lenses, they’re far from ideal.

It’s fine. You’ll splash some water on your face when you get to the cafe and blink a lot. They’re fine.

Your friend is already sitting by the time you get there, but hasn’t ordered their drink yet. You haven’t seen them for several months, though you used to see each other every day during undergrad. They’re only here for a work conference. They live in Metropolis now, and are wearing an ‘I SURVIVED MY VISIT TO METROPOLIS’ shirt to show it. A couple Gothamites around them are actively laughing into their hands at the sight of it. After all, compared to this city, really nothing is worse.

After the usual greeting, hug, and exclamations over how long it’s been, you say, “Sorry, but my contact’s actually killing me right now. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll watch your stuff,” they say cheerfully.

The bathroom’s about as good as someone could hope for in Gotham. The remains of scrubbed-away graffiti lingers on the wall around the mirror, and a paper towel with a suspicious red stain hangs over the edge of the trash can. Not quite the vibe this place is going for, judging by the painted ivy around the walls and the hanging plants, but oh well.

You blink, squeeze your eyes shut, rub them, and open them again. Much better.

There’s a drink in front of your friend by the time you make it back to the table they found, pushed in the back corner where things are a little quieter. “They have seasonal syrups,” they say, sipping the drink. “Though a lot of them are named after supervillains.”

You scoff and shrug off your coat. “Please. Clayface is hardly a supervillain. He’s just a washed-up actor.”

“That must be nice,” your friend says wistfully. “Did I tell you I had to replace my car last month?”

“No!”

“Yeah! Some alien dictator had beef with Superman. A lot of cars were thrown in that fight.”

“Ugh,” you say wistfully. “We had some good memories in that car.” They’d had it since undergrad.

“Gone but never forgotten,” they say, holding their cup up for cheers, and you both remember that you haven’t ordered anything yet.

Even though you’re on a bit of a caffeine ban—boyfriend’s orders—you order a coffee. One a day won’t hurt you, not when you were averaging at least four during the recent busy season. The pathology lab you work at always has a huge rush of biopsies ordered between Thanksgiving and New Year’s. Now that it’s a little into January, you’re not scrambling quite so much.

With your drink in hand, you head back to the table to keep catching up. Your friend started a new job with a much better boss than their old one. They’re thinking about proposing to their partner of five years. Their dog got into their family’s big holiday meal and they had to order last-minute Chinese takeout instead. And they can’t decide whether to cut their hair or keep growing it out.

Then it’s your turn. You’re four years into your job at the lab, kind of feeling like you want a change, but the generous Christmas bonus is making you think twice. Your apartment is okay but not nice. Your cat is healthy and happy and extremely spoiled. Your family lives across the country, all with separate plans, so you stayed in Gotham for the (surprisingly uneventful) winter.

“What did you do for the holidays, then?” your friend asks, their drink long since finished. Judging by their eyes drifting back to the counter as you speak, they want another.

“My boyfriend’s family celebrates Hanukkah and Christmas,” you say. “Nothing too fancy, of course, none of us are terribly religious. But it was nice to see each other on a regular basis for a week straight.” Jason would disagree, but only out of principle. “We’re all busy people.”

“And your boyfriend? Jason, right? How is he? What does he do for work, again?”

Here comes the hard part. No matter what happens in your personal life, you can’t talk to anyone about it unless they’re in the know. Keeping Gotham safe requires a fairly large system; you and several other scientists or similar professionals are able to contact the Bats through Leslie Thompkins, Lucius Fox, and Commissioner Gordon, but of that number, only a fraction know their identities.

Working overtime at the lab as a new hire, you were the only one Leslie could reach at midnight when Black Bat came in contact with a mysterious substance through an open wound. From midnight to eight a.m., you collected blood and skin samples with hands that shook under the scrutiny of Batman’s white-lensed gaze. Your treatment was a gamble but a success, and after that, the Bats started to come to you more and more. So many of their rogues use biowarfare, after all. Still, it took over a year for Black Bat and Spoiler to take off their masks around you. At that point, you’d only seen Red Hood once, when he brought Robin in and ordered you to never tell Batman that he’d done so. Months after that, he took off his helmet around you, but only because of a nasty cut on his neck, and the domino mask beneath it stayed on. You’d known each other for a year and a half before he spoke more than five curt words to you at a time. Analyzing a new street drug was the first time you two ever worked together, and it was fun. After that, he just kept coming back.

It took so long to gain their trust, and you won’t risk it. But there are so many secrets. How can you explain to anyone else that not only is your boyfriend related to Bruce Wayne—yes, the Bruce Wayne of Gotham, billionaire, CEO, activist, and philanthropist—but he is, in fact, the man’s very publicly dead son?

So you can tell people about your boyfriend named Jason. You can’t introduce him to anyone from outside Gotham; the jagged scar on his cheek and glowing green eyes tend to raise more questions than answers. You can mention that he has a large family. You can’t tell them who his family is. You can tell them that Jason works flexible hours, usually at night, so the two of you see each other often despite your busy schedules. You can’t tell them what Jason actually does for work.

“He runs a not-for-profit community service organization,” you lie, the words familiar and tasteless from how often you’ve had to say them. And he sort of does, but with a lot more violence and criminal cavorting than most other not-for-profits. “He’s really passionate about helping Gotham’s kids that come from low-income households.” The foster system reform laws passed last year were lobbied by Wayne Enterprises, but it was the Red Hood showing up in politician’s houses in the dead of night that really sped up the process.

“I talked to Avery the other day,” your friend says. “They’re convinced you’re making him up.”

You sigh. Avery is another friend from college. You two were in the same friend group for years, but were never particularly close outside of it. “We don’t like to take pictures together, okay?”

Your friend eyes you with a faint air of dissatisfaction. “Well, if you say so. I was actually hoping to meet him while I’m here.”

You try not to let it show how your heart leaps into your throat at the thought. Around the lump, you say, “I’m sure he’d love to, but he’ll be stuck all day at the office.” Lie. He’s at home right now, baking muffins and wearing an apron with the words ‘Kiss the Cook.’ Damian and Tim scribbled over the two ‘S’s with Sharpie to make it ‘KiLL the Cook,’ but the sentiment is still there.

“Right,” they say slowly.

The meetup doesn’t last long after that. At the end of it, you hug and promise to meet up more often, even though it’s unlikely. With a wave, they head off for their conference, and you’re almost out the door when you blink wrong and—

Half the world goes blurry.

You feel the contact fall down your cheek and onto the ground.

“Goddamnit,” you hiss under your breath.

Glasses it is.

You’ve been wearing contacts for so long that you can take out the other one without breaking stride. The wind hasn’t let up in the slightest, and it makes your nose run.

Sniffling slightly, shoulders hunched against the chill, you don’t see the pumpkin until it’s too late.

They’re after you.

It’s not safe, not for you, not for anyone, they want you, they’re grabbing you, hands on your shoulder, people screaming—screaming at you—for you to stop—no—for—for something to stop?

Something is wrong. Dimly, in the back of your mind, you know something is wrong, but your hands are shaking and your bag is ripping, someone is clawing at you, screaming, desperate, they want you to fall back so they’re safe (from what?) and someone else shoves you and you go spinning out, bag in one direction and you in the other and—

They’re changing, the person clawing at you, turning into a monster, and you scream.

They’re after you

(who is after you)

They want to hurt you

(why)

(what is going on)

And you can’t see, something is wrong, you hear glass crunch and then the whole world goes out of focus.

You can’t see.

They’ll get you if you can’t see, and now you can see them, the dark shapes rising from the shadows, claws out and maws gaping, hungry, hungry, hungry for you and your marrow and your heart and they’re going to get you—

You run.

You trip over something (or someone; something like a bone crunches) and your heel slides and your hands catch you but not really, chin clipping the ground so hard your teeth click, and your hands burn, and your chin aches, but they’re still behind you, behind and getting closer—

You run.

You run and they get closer and you see the corner of something dark and blurry, and maybe it’s another monster or maybe it’s a building, and you skid to a stop and throw yourself behind it.

It’s not a monster. It smells awful—a dumpster—and the ground is wet, you hope from rain, but maybe it’s blood

(you’re sitting in a pool of it)

(you’ll be covered)

(the monsters will smell the blood and come running and they’ll hear you shuffling, they’ll hear you panting, they’ll hear your heart pounding, pounding, pounding—)

You scramble to the farthest corner between the brick building’s corner and the dumpster—maybe their clawed arms will be too short to reach you—and hide your face in your hands—you need to stop breathing so loudly—you need to be quiet, quiet, quiet—

People continue to scream. The city, the city Jason and his family try so hard to protect, everyone is dying and you’re going to die and maybe they’ll die, too, or maybe they’ll survive, and maybe they’ll find your dead body and that would ruin Jason, or maybe they won’t and you’ll rot behind the dumpster, smelling just as bad as the trash inside it—

Quiet quiet quiet.

You can’t stop shaking, your teeth won’t stop rattling, and you have to be quiet quiet quiet.

But your heart keeps pounding, faster and faster. It hasn’t slowed down since the monsters came, it’s only getting louder and faster.

Dimly you think you might be having a heart attack.

Everything gets a thousand times worse when one of the monsters shouts your name.

How do they know your name?

Footsteps on the pavement and people have stopped screaming.

Dead, you think. And you’ll be next if you’re not quiet quiet quiet.

The monster shouts your name again. It’s louder—they’re closer. You curl into a tighter ball. They can’t find you.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Your chest hurts; your heart wants to jump out of it.

Jason, you think wildly. Jason will save you. If Jason finds you, he’ll keep you safe. Your hands fish at your side, but find empty air: your purse is gone. There’s no way to reach him, and he can’t even track your location through your phone.

The monster shouts your name again. It has a deep voice.

Another voice joins it, deeper, pitched lower. You can’t quite make out the words.

“They’re around here,” the first monster insists. “B, we don’t have long, this strain is strong—”

“They’re strong,” says the second monster. “Their heart can handle it.”

Something thumps and a third monster says, “Everyone else is clear. Signal had to take two people to the hospital, but they’ll be fine, don’t look so upset, B.”

“You have the antitoxin?” the first monster demands.

“Relax, Hood,” drawls the third monster. “‘Course I do. So you tracked them here?”

“Yeah, I just—” Again it shouts your name. It sounds almost upset. “Please, it’s me, I can help you. Come on. You’re safe. You inhaled fear toxin, I know you’re terrified, but it’s me. You know me.”

It’s trying to lure you in. You won’t fall for it.

You squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath. Let them move on. Let them search somewhere—

“There you are.”

A hulking figure is blocking the light.

The monsters found you.

“Stop it!” you yell, trying to sound brave. “Leave me alone or—or you’ll regret it!”

“Please,” it wheedles, “I’m just trying to help you. Don’t you recognize me?” It reaches out with clawed hands and you kick frantically, but there’s nowhere else for you to go.

“Hey, aren’t these their glasses?” asks the third monster. “What happened to their contacts?”

“Don’t come any closer! The Red Hood will get you, I know him, if you hurt me he’ll kill you! Stop it!”

“I’m really sorry about this, honey,” the monster says, and its clawed hand latches around your ankle and you howl. The sharp points dig deep through skin into muscle and sinew, and it hurts and you’re going to die—

“Jason!” you shriek. “Jason, help me!”

“I’m right here,” the monster lies. “Please, I’m right here, look at me—”

You won’t. You won’t do it. You can’t watch while it kills you. “Jason, please!” you bawl again, but it’s too late. The monsters have you, you’re surrounded, he’ll never forgive himself but what could he even do against them—

Sharp teeth dig into your neck.

You’re dead.

“There we go, darling,” the monster says. Strong arms wrap around you—it wants to crush you to death—and you struggle, but there’s no use.

Except—

You can hear now, kind of, the rush of blood in your ears is receding a bit, and something heavy lands on your nose. This time, when you blink your eyes open, the world’s edges have sharpened. And the monster in front of you—

Well, you recognize the dark hair with a shock of white, and the brilliantly green eyes would be visible if not for the white-lensed domino mask, and the jagged scar on his cheek.

“Jay?” you murmur, hand coming up to touch it. He doesn’t flinch away. It took so long for him to stop flinching when you touch his face. Over his shoulder, you see Batman and Spoiler watching with satisfaction and slight worry. “What happened?”

“Scarecrow,” he says grimly. “He gassed the street, but only about twenty people were affected. I was patrolling nearby, and when I saw your purse on the ground—” He grimaces, then fixes you with a hard look. His two hands can span most of your head, and he takes it to press a firm kiss to your forehead. When he pulls back slightly, without looking away, “I want their heart checked.”

“The antitoxin—” Batman starts.

“I don’t care,” Jason snarls.

Your hands loosely hold his forearms, still shaking a little. “How’d you find me?”

“I tracked you,” he says softly.

“But my phone—”

“Honey,” he says gently, “of course that’s not the only one.”

Well. You should have guessed that, honestly.

“I’ll go check on the victims,” Batman says suddenly. “Come on, Spoiler.”

“Glad to see you’re okay,” Spoiler says to you, then dashes after Batman. In a whirl of capes, they’re gone.

“I’m so sorry,” Jason says in a rush.

“Jay—”

“I should have protected you,” he grits out, white lenses turning to slits as he squeezes his eyes shut. “This should never have happened—”

“You couldn’t have known,” you say softly, letting go of his arms and wiggling beneath them to wrap yours around his torso. Your nose wedges against his chest kind of uncomfortably, but now you can smell him, the familiar gunpowder and a little bit of sour sweat, and the faint tremble in his bones that mirrors the one in your hands. He clutches you close, head buried in the crook of your neck.

He croaks, “I’m so sorry, so sorry, so—”

“You saved me,” you mumble into his armor. “I knew you would.”

“I almost didn’t.”

“Jay.” You pull back to look at him seriously. “Even when I couldn’t think straight, I knew you would come. I’ll always know that, no matter what toxin’s messing with my head.”

Judging by the twist of his mouth, he doesn’t quite believe that. He’ll beat himself up internally for days, you know.

But you also know that while Bruce runs his tests in the Cave to make sure there’s no more toxin in your system, he’ll hold your hand the whole time. You know he’ll hold you tight in the bed you share tonight. You know, as long as Jason lives and breathes, he’ll always protect you.

“I love you,” he says thickly. “So much.”

“I love you too.”

“Let’s get you checked out.” He helps you up and holds you close and you know that you’ll be okay.

Jason’s here, so you’ll be okay.

DC Taglist

@evalynanne @mismatchsposts @cliosunshine @fictionalwhor3 @bellathecatastrophe

Let me know if there's anything you want to see from me. Inspiration strikes at odd intervals, and I get lonely.

[changbunnies]

Scent Of You (18+)

♡ Pairing: Wolf Hybrid!Bang Chan x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader x Wolf Hybrid!Changbin

♡ Genre: dubcon, little red riding hood au, fantasy/supernatural au, hybrid au, vague allusions to omegaverse dynamics, porn with plot

♡ Word Count: 7.8k (oops)

♡ Summary: In which a sweet, naive bunny hybrid nicknamed 'little red' becomes lost in the forest at night, and finds herself face to face with the big, bad wolves her grandmother always warned her about.

♡ Warnings: uses the little red riding hood fairytale as a base for inspiration before it devolves into smut, words like "alpha" and other omegaverse terms aren't used but the vibes are There lol

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): dubcon, pet names (though mostly as a title- such as bunny, little red, and sweetheart), the word slut is used a few times, gendered language such as "dirty girl", scent stuff lol, dom/sub dynamics (dom!chan, sub!reader, allusions to switch!bin), a lot of kissing, size difference, size kink (i'm sorry if you're tall just pretend ur small and they're huge because ur a rabbit and they're a wolf fsdgsdf), oral (m + f rec), spitroasting, some manhandling, some banter and mild rivalry between bin and chan, unprotected piv, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms and multiple creampies

♡ Notes: so i intended to take a small break from writing after finishing crave but inspo struck me as i was trying to fall asleep and i NEEDED to write it so i literally shot up and wrote all of this in one sitting in a cold sweat fsdgdsf so here we are, one last surprise upload before my break <3 it's easily the most self indulgent fic i've written to date dfdgh bunny is my fave petname and this is basically just my excuse to be called bunny in a wolf binchan sandwich lmao this is not as proofread as my other stuff given how quickly i wrote it, and it's my first time writing a threesome, but i hope you enjoy! edit: there is now a sequel you can read here !

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

"Please, take care sweetheart. Don't stay out too long," your grandmother warns with a tender kiss to your forehead as you prepare to head out for the day, pulling the hood of your long, red cape up over your head, tucking in your hair and covering your lopped ears.

"I know, grandmother, I know! I'll be back before you know it, I promise," you assure her with a smile, hooking your twine basket into your arm, empty and ready to be filled with treats of the forest.

Your grandmother heaves a soft sigh, as she falls back against the bed, and you give her hand a reassuring squeeze and a soft goodbye before you make your way out of your quaint cottage, a long line of intimidating, tall standing trees before you. Grandmother always worries for your safety, as the woods aren't entirely safe for a rabbit like yourself, but so long as the sun hangs bright in the sky, you'd be perfectly fine.

Really, it's only at night that the woods near your home become truly dangerous, as all manner of nocturnal predators leave their dens in search of their next meal. For a rabbit such as yourself, lingering in the woods at night is assuredly a death sentence; your diminutive stature and weak limbs would cause you to easily fall victim to the beasts that stalk through the forest with the moon's aid. 

The only thing on your side would be your speed, but even then it's no guarantee of safety once a predator has you in their sights. And so your grandmother always instilled a proper fear of the dark within you, in the hope that you'd never find yourself in a situation in which you'd have to flee in the first place.

Entering the forest brings with it countless anxieties for your species, but it's not like you can simply not go. The gifts of nature are what sustains you, and you have to enter the woods, even live near them, if you want to have food in your tummy and herbal medicines on your shelves. 

As such, you are always very conscious of the amount of time you spend in the forest, only ever entering when the sun is brightly illuminating your surroundings, always careful and alert as you gather what you need. You observe the sun's position in the sky, use it to determine how much time you have left before it begins to set, always heading back well before it starts to sink behind the trees.

And you'd never stay longer than necessary, especially not when you have grandmother waiting at home praying for your safe return! But well.. grandmother is quite ill these days, and you spent more time than you usually would gathering the berries and leaves you’ll need to make her sweet, healing brews of tea.

Soon enough, winter's chill would cause all the greenery to frost and wither, and you wanted to stock up now to ensure you had enough to last 'til the end of the season. It was for grandmother's health! Surely she'd understand and forgive you if you stayed out just a little longer than usual. 

But as dusk started to settle over the trees, and you realized how precious few moments of sunlight you had left to make it home with, panic began to accumulate in the pit of your stomach. You tried your best to take deep breaths, to not allow your heart to race– as long as you remained calm, you could get back before dark, you were sure of it. 

The more the sun sank however, the more you lost your clarity; you found yourself stumbling in circles, the encroaching dark causing the forest to become unrecognizable, leading you blindly in circles. You'd long since lost sight of the path you always followed home, and the moon and stars, which were normally such a beautiful sight, now came with a sense of foreboding.

It was dark, you were lost, and grandmother was now all alone, probably worrying herself half to death wondering where you could be and if you're even still alive. You continue blindly weaving your way through the trees, just praying that you're moving in the direction of home; you can't afford to hide away and wait until morning, not when a beast could be around any corner.

Using your speed to your advantage, you dart past a near endless sea of trees, praying, praying, and praying the clearing will come into view and you’ll see your cottage in the middle, with orange light from the fire peeking through the windows and smoke billowing from the chimney. 

Suddenly you stop, entire body freezing as your hair stands on end, nose twitching as an unfamiliar scent fills your nostrils; someone is near– someone that you should avoid at all costs. It’s so heavy, overwhelming beyond comprehension– the scent of the forest itself is still identifiable, but mixed now with something akin to leather, black coffee, and hot iron.

The scent is actually quite pleasant, so that's not what causes you to freeze; it’s the unfamiliarity that is the true root of the problem, evoking a deep rooted, innate fear response. You know all the “safe” smells– that of other prey animals such as yourself, for instance, are recognizable, comforting, and bring about a sense of calm.

To be met with the unfamiliar is to be met with danger; it means that whatever is near is something you’ve never encountered during your safe treks through the forest, it means that a predator likely has you in their sights. And as grandmother has told you, if you smell them it’s already too late– they’ve found you. 

“Now, now, what do we have here?” A deep voice calls, hidden from your sight. Your heart erupts in an erratic rhythm, a chill running down your spine as your eyes desperately search the darkness for the source of the voice. And there, you finally see it– or rather, him. A man, standing much, much taller and bulkier than you, sharp fangs exposed with his smile, fangs that you are sure will be used to rip you apart. 

You see pointed ears and dusky blue-silver fur, a long tail that swishes with intrigue and delight, a fur coat with the arms cut off, an exposed chest laden with scars both fresh and faded. He’s a wolf, you realize with dread, the thing you were taught to fear most of all.

You unconsciously take a step back as he approaches, the moonlight illuminating him in a way that evokes both fear and reverence; as beautiful as he is dangerous. “What’s a little thing like you doing in the forest at night, hmm? Don’t you know it isn’t safe, little red?” he says with a sickeningly sweet smile, referencing the caped hood you’re wearing, a gift from your grandmother meant to keep you safe from men like him.  

You clutch your basket tighter as your legs begin to tremble, lowering your head and pulling your hood down further, trying your best to ensure your ears and other features are completely covered. He probably knows by smell alone you’re a prey animal, but you vainly hope he’ll let you go if he doesn’t realize you’re a rabbit– a stupid hope, but it’s the only one you have.

“Poor thing, don’t be scared. You got lost, didn’t you, little red?” With each step towards you he takes, you take another step back, until your back meets that of a thick tree, the erratic rhythm of your heart building to a speed you thought otherwise impossible. 

“Tell me– where did you come from?” The wolf asks with an intimidating smile full of fang, “I recognize you from somewhere. Where was it I’ve smelled you before..?”

With nowhere to go, caged against the tree as the wolf closes in, all you can do is tremble as you watch him sniff the air, licking his lips as if tasting your scent. Most prey animals are generally the same, but there’s only one place he’s gotten the scent of sugar and cream from.. 

“Ah, I know,” he says suddenly, smile growing wider as he speaks, “That little cottage in the clearing– that’s it, isn’t it? That’s your home?” You swallow as you timidly nod, your nerves much too frayed to attempt to lie– you’ve never been a good liar anyways, your grandmother having raised you to be honest and good.

“You’re quite far from home, little red. But I can help you,” he offers, but you know better than to trust a wolf– they’re liars, all of them. “N-No, I.. I can get there by myself,” you say, finally finding your voice (shaky and timid though it may be.)

The man hums, seemingly amused by your brave display; he knows how scared you are, can quite literally taste it, but he has to commend you for trying, at least. “I’m not sure that’s true. Do you know which way home is?” 

“W-Well, uhm, I.. I– I, I don’t–” you stutter and fumble, and he chuckles, a smug look of “thought-so” clear on his face as he grins at you. His hand finds your cheek, and you look up at him with glassy, teary eyes, heart thumping out of control as he strokes your skin with his thumb.

He smiles sweetly, almost boyishly– a look that would be endearing if he wasn’t a wolf, and you weren’t afraid for your life. His clawed hand travels from your cheek to the top of your hood, and you quickly reach your hands up to clutch the fabric, keeping it fully tugged down in a vain attempt to continue to hide your identity.

The wolf laughs, clearly amused at your reaction. “Come now, little red, show me what sort of ears you’re hiding under there,” he coos and you shake your head, eyes squeezing shut and knuckles turning white as you desperately cling to your hood. 

At this point it probably no longer matters what you are exactly– no matter the answer, it’s clear the wolf before your eyes has plans for you that won’t go unfulfilled. But still, your survival instincts are in overdrive, and you can’t help but try your best to protect yourself, even if the endeavor proves to be worthless.

He tugs at your hood, not yet trying to fully pull it off, but rather playing with you– he could easily pull it off in one quick swipe, his claws could tear the fabric to ribbons, but he chooses to instead have his fun, watch you panic and struggle with the hood in your tiny hands. 

You look at him, unfallen tears blurring your vision; you don’t know what else to do. Grandmother always said if you found yourself cornered by wolves, your only option would be to run and pray for the best, but is that really the best you can do? And while you’re fast, wolves are faster– you’re sure the man would be able to catch up with you easily, especially given that the moon is his ally and he is likely extremely familiar with the deep woods.

Further still, he clearly stated he knows your home; even if you escape, he knows exactly where to go to find you. It fills you with dread, knowing that even if you do make it home, your grandmother would be there too; and you’d never forgive yourself if something bad happened to her because of you.

It’s an impossible choice you are being dealt– surrender to your fate now, or try your best to flee and risk dragging your precious grandmother down with you. But as he finally tugs down your hood, your white, snow-like lopped ears are fully exposed, and the wolf’s fangs shine as he gleefully smiles, you find yourself unconsciously making a choice– you run, as fast as your legs will carry you.

The cape gets caught and snags on stray branches from the myriad trees, tearing as you continue to run, adrenaline coursing through your veins, chest aching from the erratic, forcefully thumping of your heart, breath coming out quick and harsh. 

You barely make it 10 feet ahead through the trees before you’re crashing into something, the sudden impact causing you to let out an involuntary shout as you stumble back and fall ungracefully on your backside. Looking up, tears fall from your eyes when you realize it’s another wolf– shorter than the one who’d cornered you previously, but bulkier, with fur as dark as obsidian and a scent that matches it.

You suspect that he was there the entire time, and you just didn’t notice due to the panicked focus you held on getting away from the blue-silver wolf. “Where do you think you're going, little red?” the new wolf speaks, affirming your fears; he was there for the entire exchange, witness to the moniker you’d been given and now using it for himself.

“Oh Changbin, you caught her,” you hear the previous wolf say from somewhere behind you, leaves and twigs snapping beneath his feet as he approaches your spot on the ground. “Course,” the dark wolf evidently named Changbin speaks, kneeling down to look directly in your teary eyes, “I’d never let such a sweet little thing get away from us.” 

He reaches to the side of your body, where your twine basket has fallen from your arms and spilled its contents, all the berries and leaves you gathered now decorating the dirt. “Hmm, most of these are herbal. What a sweet girl you are, gathering until late into the night! Your grandmother must be proud of you, hmm?” Changbin smiles, looking up to the previous wolf once he stands again, your basket in his hands, “Don’t you think so, Chan-hyung?” 

The blue-silver wolf that the dark wolf calls Chan hums in agreement, once again calling you a “sweet thing.” Chan offers you a hand to help you stand, and you hesitate, swallowing as your eyes dart nervously between them. Their eyes on you make you nervous beyond just the predator-prey relationship you share; they’re both so impossibly ethereal in the light of the moon, and it makes you wonder if all wolves are such divine creatures. 

Maybe that’s why the rest of the forest view them reverently; beautiful, powerful, utterly intimidating in all aspects– they offer no choice from a rabbit such as yourself but submission simply from presence alone. “What’s your name, little red?” is Chan’s next question, and again, you find yourself unable to lie; against your own sense of self-preservation, you tell him your name.

He hums, repeating your name as if testing the way it falls from his tongue before diverting back to his nickname for you. “Let’s make a deal, little red,” the wolf says, still holding out his hand, waiting for you to take it. You finally do so cautiously, letting Chan help you to your feet, your legs still trembling but not yet buckling in the face of fear.

“W-What kind of deal?” you ask hesitantly, looking between the two wolves who smile and lick their lips, tongues ghosting over their fangs as they do. Beautiful, powerful, intimidating, your mind repeats.

“We want to play with you,” Chan says smoothly, the answer coming natural to him, “play with us for a little while, and then we’ll take you home. We promise.” You look at the other, younger wolf who nods, backing the sentiment of his superior.

Here you are, confronted in the deepest reaches of the forest by two wolves, and instead of devouring you they just want to “play”..? What does playing entail with them? You’re not sure how much you truly want to know, but the promise of home dangling in front of you makes you consider their offer despite how foolish it may be.

“You’re not.. tricking me, are you?” you ask, voice small, full of naivety and hope. “Of course not, sweetheart, we would never,” Changbin affirms, even going so far as to pick up the spilled contents of your basket and nestle them carefully back inside– a promise that by the time you’re done “playing”, you’ll be reunited with your sickly grandmother and able to care for her again.

“You just smell so sweet,” Chan says, his clawed fingers once again tracing over your cheek, “and we’ve always wanted to play with a sweet little bunny like you.” You nervously exhale the breath you unconsciously held when his hand traced your skin, searching his eyes for any sort of deceit.

If you’re being honest, you’re not entirely confident in your ability to tell if the wolves are lying to you– they’re masters of manipulation, after all; lying is second nature to them. Still, you want to trust them– trust that after you play with them for a little while, they’ll keep their promise of taking you home with your basket in your arms and everything you need to get through the winter.

“If you really promise, then.. I’ll play with you,” you answer, and the wolves both smile eagerly, with the elder wolf taking you in his arms, swiftly lifting you up off your feet. You squeak in surprise, instinctively clutching tightly to his fur coat, scared of being dropped. 

“Let’s go have some fun then,” Chan grins at you, making sure his hold on you is secure before he starts to move, “but not here. The floor here’s too dirty for you, isn’t it?” It’s a rhetorical question in which he expects no answer; instead he starts winding through the trees quickly, a destination clearly in mind.

You vaguely see the other wolf trailing behind before you squeeze your eyes shut, the blur of trees and wind whipping through your hair and past your ears making you dizzy as you’re carried further and further into the forest, likely towards its center. It takes you a few moments to open your eyes once you’ve realized you’re no longer moving at high speeds; Chan, who still has you in his arms, is now walking at a leisurely place through what you assume is his den.

The smell of other wolves is distinct but distant– evidently, the three of you are the only ones home for the night. It makes you breathe a small sigh of relief to know the rest of his pack is absent, attending to their own matters. It makes you feel safer, somehow; as if you’re not literally inside a wolf's den, at the mercy of whatever it is the two before you want with you. 

Eventually you are carried into a bedroom– one that smells more of Chan than the other wolf, which leads you to believe this is his room specifically. Changbin doesn’t seem to mind that the “playing” will take place here, a smile still clear on his face as he shuts the door behind himself, locking the door behind him as Chan sets you on his rather large bed. 

Your ears lie flat against your head, your nerves eating away at you as you fiddle with your hands. You watch them both carefully, taking note of where Changbin sets down your basket before he meets you and Chan at the bed.

The two of them standing over you makes you feel impossibly small, affirms how much better they are than you in every evolutionary aspect; speed, strength, size– they have it all. And you, one measly little rabbit with no significant qualities in comparison to them, who has no choice but to put her life in their hands if she wants to survive. How unfair. 

“Tell me, little red,” Chan starts as he sits next to you on his bed, one large hand enough to cup your entire face and direct your complete attention towards him, “are bunnies as slutty as they say?” Your eyes widen as you gulp in shock, having not expected such a forward, explicit question.

“Yeah, I’m curious,” Changbin follows up, sitting firmly on your other side, caging you in between the both of them, “they don’t say ‘fucking like rabbits’ for no reason, right? So what are you? A slut?” 

“I-I’m not!” you sputter out; it’s true that rabbits have a reputation for promiscuity but you live a rather sheltered life with your grandmother– you hardly even know other rabbits your age, much less male rabbits. That being said, you have been a little.. intense during your heats– but you rode those out with toys, not with the help of men.

And you don’t think there’s any shame in promiscuity, but that’s simply not the life you lead; you live modestly, simply taking care of your grandmother to the best of your ability. You barely even have time to masturbate these days– fucking is entirely out of the realm of possibility, as busy as you are. 

“But you’ve taken cock before?” Changbin asks from behind you rather shamelessly, and Chan looks at you expectantly, waiting for your answer with a cocked brow. “W-Well, yes, but–” you start and Chan is smiling again, another happy hum leaving his lips. ..Does your virginity status really matter here..?

Your eyes widen again when the reality of what you’ve agreed to clicks, and Chan chuckles at your delayed reaction. “You’re not very smart, are you, bunny? But that’s okay– you don’t need to be smart to have fun, isn’t that right?”

Changbin is the next to speak, his hot breath coming out against one of your lopped ears, his hands tracing your hips, “Mhm, sweet, dumb bunnies are cute, don’t you think? I bet they have lots of fun,”

It’s vaguely condescending, how they speak of you– sweet and dumb, as if your intelligence pales next to theirs, as if you are an object designed for their pleasure and no other. And somehow, it adds to the tremble in your legs, your breath hitching when Chan squeezes your cheeks between his fingers and thumb, forcing your mouth to open. 

You overtly whine, the wolf’s obscenely long tongue sliding into your mouth, exploring with another eager hum, his fangs catching on your lip with each kiss. As he kisses you, his fingers tug at the knot of your caped hood, leaving the task of discarding it to the other wolf once the knot is undone.

Goosebumps once again rise on your skin, with Changbin kissing and licking your neck after your cape has been tossed aside, deeply inhaling your scent as Chan continues to abuse your lips with his tongue and teeth. “Chan-hyung wasn’t kidding when he said you smell so sweet,” he whispers against your skin as he continues to trail his kisses down towards your shoulder, “it’s intoxicating.”

It’s shameless and almost embarrassing, the way arousal pools in your underwear despite all preconceived notions of how a rabbit should behave in the face of a predatory animal; but the more they kiss and lick, the more fear ebbs away, and becomes replaced by pleasure and yearning.

It’s been so long since you last felt the touch of someone else, having been stricken to solitary heats since becoming your grandmother’s carer. It almost humiliates you to admit how good their touch feels on your burning skin. 

They can quite literally feel your body release its tension, Changbin’s strong arms being the ones to hold you up as you melt into their touch, and the smell of your leaking arousal obviously doesn’t go undetected by either of their noses. Chan pulls away from your lips, a smirk visible on his features when you open your eyes to look at him. “What a dirty girl you are, excited already,” he says, another whine escaping you not only from his words, but from the feeling of Changbin’s teeth grazing your neck.

Chan, who could quite easily rip your dress from your body, instead opts to tug the fabric away much more carefully than you’d have anticipated– perhaps they really mean to return you home after this? Changbin, whose torso was substantially more covered than his elder’s, removes his top, leaving you to feel his bare, muscular chest against your now exposed back.

He wastes no time in latching back to your neck, licking, sucking, teeth grazing the skin, but not biting down– whether to spare you the shame of returning home with the clear mark of a predator, or because he doesn’t have permission from lead of the pack however, is unclear.

Your breasts, which you’ve always considered quite full despite your diminutive frame, easily fit within Chan’s large palms. Their ability to not only make you feel, but look small leaves you dizzy. You should be afraid of how they eclipse your frame with their size, but instead you find it exciting, your brain unraveling everything you’ve been taught about self-preservation in favor of experiencing utmost pleasure from two hulking wolves. 

Shame, it seems, has entirely left you, as slick leaks from you easily, drenching your underwear with each touch from their rough hands. Chan’s fingers play with your sensitive nipples, pulling and tugging until you’re writhing against Changbin’s body, who has his own hands tracing your hips and thighs, pressing lingering kisses to any patch of skin he can reach.

Chan lowers himself to take one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, tongue swirling around it as his hand continues to play with the other. Meanwhile, Changbin’s hand slinks around, brushing over your stomach before his hand dips between your legs, rubbing your heat over your soaked underwear. 

“Fuck, this messy for us already? You have to feel her, hyung, touch her pussy,” Changbin speaking such filthy words right next to your ear makes you shudder, a whimper leaving from deep in your throat when Chan obliges, his hand quick to replace the younger wolf’s.

Instead of touching you over your clothes however, he opts to completely tear them from your body, in stark contrast to how he treated your dress– you suppose the underwear is less important to remain intact, or maybe he just can’t help it after having gotten this far? 

“Oh, look at that Binnie, you’re right,” Chan grins as his fingers rub along your folds, spreading the slick around to create even more of a mess between your legs, “You’re such a dirty bunny underneath, hmm?”

Your face burns red, another whine escaping as shame finally returns to you, your hands reaching to cover your face. The pair of them coo, finding the display cute, whilst simultaneously making their cocks throb– what a treat, to have found a bunny that is both incredibly sweet and effortlessly sexy all at once. 

Chan pushes Changbin’s hands away from your body, and quickly turns you around. Your back is now against Chan, and he hooks your legs over his knees, spreading you open for the younger wolf to see. “Let’s give Binnie a look at your dripping pussy, don’t you think he deserves it after being so sweet to you?” More slick dribbles its way out of you, soaking the mattress beneath, a treat for Changbin’s eager eyes. 

Peeking between your fingers, you see his dark tail swishing behind him in delight, very clearly excited by the sight he’s met with. “Can I taste her, hyung? I want to so bad,” he asks, licking his lips, his eager, sparkling eyes not leaving you for even a second. “Mm, what do you think, little red? Should we let him have a taste?” Chan asks, and though you can’t see him anymore, you can practically hear the smile in his voice– playful and fun. 

You nod quickly, though Chan doesn’t seem content with that response– he tsks, once again grabbing your face and making you twist your neck to look at him. “You gotta use your words, sweetheart, you understand?” You start to simply nod again, but then quickly follow up with a small “yes”, to which the wolf smiles. He diverts your gaze back to Changbin, forcing you to hold the darker wolf’s gaze. “Good bunny, go ahead and tell him, then. Tell him you want him to eat you.” 

He can feel your face burn beneath his fingers, and though you can’t see it you’re sure there’s a smug smile gracing his perfect face as he waits for you to properly address Changbin. “I-I.. I want you to eat me, please,” you force yourself to mumble out, not missing the way Changbin’s cock throbs in his torn shorts. With one last lick of his lips, he’s diving between your thighs, looking up at you with a grin, “I’ll devour you, sweetheart.” 

You gasp when his tongue licks between your folds, a loud moan unintentionally falling from your lips as he eagerly laps away at you. You can’t help but squirm in Chan’s hold, his legs continuing to hold yours open and preventing them from closing around Changbin’s head.

Changbin moans as he licks and sucks on your clit, as if the act is more pleasurable for him than you; and eventually he alternates between giving his undivided attention to your clit, to sliding his tongue as deep into your hole as it’ll go, letting his nose bump your clit instead. 

Chan’s erection digs into your back, sometimes groaning when your squirming and twitching causes friction; but he’s not content to just sit behind you and watch– he wants to add to the fun. So his hands come up to the soft base of your ears, expecting it to be as erogenous of a zone for you as it is for them– and by your reaction, he can tell it is.

Your head falls back against him, and he can just catch a glimpse of your eyes rolling to the back of your skull, mouth hanging open as more moans and desperate whimpers leave you. “You getting close, sweet bunny? You wanna cum?” Chan asks, grinning when you once again quickly nod your head, a near endless stream of whimpery moans leaving you as your high approaches.

“Answer properly,” he reminds you, though his tone isn’t as strict as before– it’s almost playful, amused; he’s having fun. “W-Wanna cum, please, please let– hah– please let me cum,” you beg between harsh breaths, your entire body feeling like a wire on the verge of snapping.

“You heard her Bin, make her cum,” you hear Chan say as he becomes harsher with your ears, his calloused fingers now rubbing in rough circles. Your entire body jolts and convulses as the wire finally snaps, cry after cry of white pleasure spilling from your lips as you release on Changbin’s waiting tongue. He hums as he licks up all you offer him, not separating himself from his spot between your legs until he’s sure he’s got it all and you’re shuddering from the overstimulation. 

Changbin takes your face in his hands, pulling you just slightly away from Chan as he drags you into a kiss, his tongue shoving its way into your mouth. Your taste is all over his tongue, his mouth stealing away all the breath you’ve just barely managed to breathe into your lungs after the intensity of your orgasm. Your eyes are hazy when he pulls away, fogged over by lust and needs for the wolves you are sandwiched between. 

You just barely register Changbin looking past you to Chan, as if asking what to do next; though the exchange is silent, it seems like Changbin knows exactly where to go from here after receiving a certain look– have they done this before, you wonder?

Changbin scoots back just a bit before grabbing your legs, unhooking them from Chan’s knees before he’s pulling you down, closer to him. You gasp, your head falling straight onto Chan’s lap– well, more accurately to one of his thighs, before he’s closing his legs to act as a pillow for you. 

His cock, though still obscured by the fabric of his shorts, is right next to your face and impressive in its size, just as Changbin’s is. The two of them, in almost practiced unison, pull down their shorts, though the task is harder for Chan, who has your head resting on his lap. He still manages well enough, and you’re met with the sight of his hard, leaking cock right in front of your eyes, almost close enough to touch your cheek. 

You look up at Chan, who looks down to meet your gaze with a grin. “Hope you’re ready, bunny,” is all the warning you get before you’re flipped around to your front, another squeak of surprise as you’re manhandled to your knees, bent to where Changbin wants you, with your face still squarely in Chan’s lap.

One of Chan’s hands holds his cock at the base while the other reaches under your chin, lifting your face up to look directly at him. “Show me what you can do while you’re taking cock,” he instructs, your body trembling as you feel Changbin’s cock rub between your folds, slicking himself up. 

You whine when his cock presses against your hole, Changbin’s hands holding your hips up while Chan’s guide you to take his leaking cock into your mouth. You never imagined you’d be in a scenario where you’re taking in the cocks of two wolves at once, but you welcome the challenge.

Changbin enters you first, the stretch the most intense you’ve ever taken– you can’t help but gasp, the sting pricking up every inch of your body. Chan, thankfully, doesn’t force you to take him entirely into your mouth in this state– he lets you instead kiss and lick the tip, recognizing your need to adjust to a size you’re entirely unused to taking. 

They both praise you, though Changbin’s voice is significantly more strained and breathy as he continues his slow push inside your tight heat. Your nails dig into Chan’s thighs for support, and he doesn’t scold you for taking pauses in giving him attention, instead just watching as you squeeze your eyes shut and do your best to control your heavy breathing.

“Big stretch, isn’t it bun?” Chan ends up asking, which causes you to nod with teary eyes. “‘s so big,” you exhale, and Changbin whines from behind you– you wonder if he likes hearing how big he is? You can also hear the loud swishing of his tail, almost like a whip with how quick it snaps from side to side; it’s an undeniable truth that Changbin has been very, very excited to play with you the entire night.

Changbin hisses once he’s fully aside, while Chan takes this time to rub your back in a soothing gesture you wouldn’t typically expect from a wolf. You look up at him, eyes full of equal parts gratitude and lust, and he simply smiles, hunching his back down to meet your lips in a kiss. 

“Not fair, I wanna kiss her too–” Changbin protests from behind you and Chan scoffs when he pulls away from your lips. “Your dick is literally inside her Bin, shut the fuck up,” he says and to your surprise, you giggle– Changbin is kind of cute, isn’t he? At least, in a weird, wolfy sort of way.

“Are you laughing at me?” he asks, and you can almost hear the playful sort of pout in his voice. “S-Sorry, didn’t mean to,” you mumble, hoping you didn’t offend him. You take a cautious peek at him from over your shoulder, relieved to find that he’s actually smiling once he stops his dramatic pouting. Cute, you think again, but he doesn’t let you feel that way for long.

He pulls out to the tip and presses back inside in one, swift motion, causing a moan to erupt from you as your nails once again dig into Chan’s skin. “Won’t be laughing by the time I’m done with you, bunny,” Changbin says as he repeats the motion, and it takes everything in you to not utterly collapse onto Chan’s lap. 

He hits your spot every time, and you swear you can feel it all the way in your stomach– but Chan doesn’t let you stay idle in your pleasure for very long. “C’mon, sweet bunny, you know what to do,” he says, his hand under your chin directing you back to his own neglected length.

Unable to control yourself much after Changbin starts picking up his pace, you simply open your mouth and stick out your tongue, allowing Chan to enter your mouth however much he wishes to, completely handing your control to him. Changbin’s thrusts cause you to take more of Chan into your mouth than you’d initially take all at once, and it causes Chan to curse, his cock hitting the back of your throat within seconds of entering your mouth.

It doesn’t take long for your eyes to well with tears, and then for those tears to cascade down your cheeks, trying your best not to choke and gag as Changbin, voluntarily or otherwise, forces you to take more and more of Chan’s cock down your throat. You can hardly even breathe between the pleasure of Changbin drilling you from behind and Chan’s cock obstructing your primary airway, but it makes you dizzy in the best way possible.

You feel floaty, every cell in your body knowing nothing but intense pleasure. Chan strokes your head, sometimes petting your ears for that extra burst of pleasure that makes you clench tighter and causes Changbin to curse from behind you each and every time. 

Changbin, who is observing the way his cock looks sliding in and out of your tiny hole, gets a flash of inspiration when he looks at your cute, fluffy cottontail. Experimentally, he takes it into his hands, rubbing your tail between his fingers, and you keen, a shiver traveling throughout your entire body.

“Oh, you like that?” he asks, a bit smug as he continues to rub and gently tug at your tail, a loud whine escaping you that is muffled only by the cock lodged in your mouth. Chan can see your eyes rolling back, and decides to double the pleasure, not letting his hands leave your ears for even a second.

Your noises tumble freely now, quick and constant, rising in volume despite how muffled they are. It’s overwhelming being played with like this, but it feels so fucking good you’d never think to complain– you may become addicted to this sensation when it’s all said and done.

You’re so wet and warm, and now squeezing impossibly tight– Changbin isn’t going to last, and you can feel him throbbing and twitching as his pace begins to stutter. “Shit- fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” he whines, letting go of your hip with his other hand to reach under you and find your clit with his fingers. “Cum with me, pretty bunny, c’mon, I know you’re close too,” he says, quickly rubbing your clit between two of his fingers. 

Chan guides your head off of him, letting you suck in the breath you desperately need before he’s lifting you up just enough to meet his lips, capturing your moans with his mouth. You cum again with a succession of loud whimpers, your hands squeezing at Chan’s body desperately. “Oh my god, yes, ‘m cumming, c-cumming–” Changbin gasps, his cum shooting inside you in quick spurts, his bottom lip tucked between his sharp teeth as he groans. 

Chan lets you fall back to his lap, breathless and almost entirely spent, with Changbin breathing heavily behind you. He pulls out when he finally starts to soften, and you glance behind you the best you can to see him pouting at his elder again.

“You did that to make me jealous!” he accuses Chan in reference to kissing you, and the other wolf simply shrugs with a smirk. “I can kiss you too, Binnie,” you mumble, just loud enough for the two of them to hear. 

He whines again, and you realize it’s the first time you’re actually using one of their names. “You should’ve said my name while cumming, bunny,” he grunts as he scoops you up, pulling you back to his chest. “I don’t think she could’ve–” Chan starts to interject, laughing when Changbin glares at him, capturing your lips in a possessive kiss. 

They’re not actually fighting over you, but you find the dynamic fun– maybe that’s why they like to share; and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this desired before. Changbin’s tail is swishing again as he kisses you, and you giggle when you hear it– he’s like a puppy, you think; eager, and easily excitable, with a hint of jealousy that makes him fun to tease.

When he pulls away, he looks at Chan and then back at you, “Can you handle one more, sweetheart? Channie-hyung still needs a turn with you.” 

“I can take it, I’m a good bunny,” you affirm and they both grin, Chan reaching out to you and pulling you away from Changbin’s arms, into his own. “Such a good girl,” he hums as he lays you down on the mattress, taking his place between your legs while Changbin lays down next to you, rubbing his hand over your soft tummy.

Changbin’s cum is leaking steadily out of you, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind the mess it’s making on his mattress– you've made your own mess of his bed too, after all. He instead uses his fingers to gather up what has leaked and spread it over his own length, using it as lubrication for his own push inside of you.

Changbin presses kisses to your heated cheeks, licking away the tears that fall as Chan starts to push his cock inside you. Chan, who has been entirely composed up to this point, finally breaks just a bit– enough for his breath to start coming out harsher as you feel him twitch and throb inside you. 

His tail doesn’t swish as fast and erratically as Changbin’s but it is nonetheless moving happily side to side, a clear indicator that you’re actually affecting him, and he’s not all confidence and smug charisma. “Can I play with you while Channie-hyung fucks you, bunny?” Changbin asks, his hand creeping up to your chest, smiling when you quickly nod at him. 

Chan should scold you for not answering properly, but he’s focusing on his own pleasure now– taking your legs into his hands and holding them open while he fucks in and out of you. Changbin plays with your nipples, his hand taking turns between them while the other is used to keep himself propped up to watch.

“You’re making him feel good, can you tell?” he asks, and you look at Chan, who has sweat trailing down his brow and his plump bottom lip sucked between his teeth, face scrunched in pleasure. It makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you turn back to Changbin, a small pout on your lips.

“I-I wish I–” a deep breathy moan interrupts your dialogue as Chan hits your spot, but you continue, “I wish I could’ve s-seen you too.” You bet he looked absolutely divine, just as Chan does. Changbin groans, your sentiment evidently having an affect on him. 

“God, you’re the fucking sweetest, bunny,” he tells you, leaning forward to kiss you some more, his tongue once again shoving it’s way into your mouth. You tangle your fingers in Changbin’s curly hair as he kisses you, and he whines when you unintentionally tug during a particularly harsh thrust from Chan. 

Changbin simply watches your face in awe for a moment when you pull away to breathe and let yourself fall back against the mattress, finding you incredibly cute, beautiful even, even with your hair a mess and drenched in sweat. “B-Binnie, Channie, think ‘m gonna cum again–” you whine, eyes rolling back once more when it causes Chan’s thrusts to become harsher.

“Yeah? Gonna cum again, slutty bunny?” Changbin smiles, egging you on with his voice. You nod quickly, pleas starting to fall from your lips effortlessly, “I-I can, right? Been a good girl, a good bunny? Good bunnies can cum?”

They both smile, endless encouragement leaving them such as “yes pretty, go ahead and cum for us,” and “good bunny, good girl, cum sweetheat.” Changbin pulls you back to his lips as you cum, wanting to kiss you as you cum since he missed the chance earlier, and he eagerly swallows your noises, his fingers finding your clit once more to drag out your orgasm. 

Chan as well starts to become louder, his grunts becoming more successive with each thrust, not losing speed even as his hips start to lose their rhythm. He grabs your face and tears you away from Changbin, kissing you in a display that is either meant to make Changbin jealous again, or is simply for his own pleasure.

Or maybe it serves both purposes at once, because as Changbin whines in protest, you can feel Chan smirk against your lips before he’s losing himself again. His groans are muffled against you as his hips stutter once, twice more before he’s spilling inside you, ropes and ropes of cum filling you to the brim. 

You reach out to Changbin’s hand, squeezing it in a gesture that is meant to stop his jealousy, and he smiles at you, calling you a “sweet little thing” once more, giving you a peck to your forehead. Your eyes close, not opening even as Chan softens and slips out of you, exhaustion having clearly seeped into every molecule of your body.

“Poor thing’s tired,” you vaguely hear Changbin say as he wipes the sweat off your brow. Chan responds, though it’s hard to make out what he says as you unconsciously slip into sleep, unable to prevent it with how heavy your entire body has become, rest quickly claiming you. 

The sound of birds loudly chirping wakes you, and you blink slowly awake, eyes straining as you realize you’re in the sunlight. You sit up quickly, looking down at yourself and then your surroundings; you’re out of the forest proper, in the clearing where your home sits quaintly in the middle. You're dressed back in your prior clothing and with your hood over your ears– barring the underwear you lost. 

You’d think last night was a dream if it wasn’t for the fact that you could feel yourself bare underneath your dress; so they really upheld their promise and brought you back home..? You see your basket, sitting neatly in arm’s reach, a small note resting atop the berries and leaves you gathered yesterday that simply reads, “Last night was fun, wasn’t it, little red? Come play with us again sometime,” with a cutely drawn heart at the end, signed ‘Binnie and Channie.’

[coquettepascal]

felicitas and her general

summary: general acacius has caught your attention after being the first mortal to worship you in decades. you only face one challenge: don't get too attached.

warnings: rated g, contains spoilers for gladiator ii, follows the timeline of the movie somewhat, reader is the goddess felicitas (who is the goddess of good luck,) this fic is basically just an add on to the movie.

tags: goddess!reader x general acacius, emotional infidelity, lots of roman mythology stuff, writer is basing all her knowledge out of what she remembers from PJO and HoO, worship, complicated feelings, marcus does not cheat on lucilla physically, yearning, pining, grieving, guilt, major character death(s), stalking (kind of), a lot of obsession/dedication, angst, hurt no comfort but also hurt with comfort.

a/n: i watched gladiator ii and then was too emotionally devastated to finish this fic the way i planned. i really hope you all like this!! also, this fic is also dedicated to my dear friend @pascalssbabyy because she is my biggest cheerleader and i love her <33

wc: 7.2k (not beta read)

It was he who woke you.

A quiet sacrifice in the evening that felt like the freshest breath of air you could have, more intense than what you could have atop any mountain, near any spring. The scent of burning meat and smokey vegetables grasped at your lungs, and you almost choked on it. How long had it been since someone had offered you something so kind? Real food, not just scraps of something they didn’t wish for. 

You’d never complain about how difficult it is to be a minor Goddess, you know that you could be a mortal, but most don’t think of how Gods can fade. It’s a physical process, one where you’d notice how your fingertips passed through things like chalices and bowls, how a spoon slid through your hand once. The clatter of gold on the table was embarrassing, even though you were alone. Nothing about being forgotten, or fading, physically hurt. It was only mentally taxing, knowing that you weren’t as important as you once were, that mortals found you insignificant.

Generals used to come and offer things frequently sometime ago, but you couldn’t even begin to understand how long ago that was. When you’re immortal, or supposed to be, mortal lives seem fleeting. You had taken them for granted, and regret it now, for all you have now are the empty clouds above your temple. 

The last offering you can gather was from a young boy, who wanted to win a board game against his sister the next day. He had given you half a bun with strips of meat. Sure, it was thoughtful, but this was something rich. 

You finish inhaling the offering, and then hear the offerer's voice. But it’s muffled, and you want to see who it is anyways, so you swipe through the clouds and create a window to see. Then you can hear him clearly.

Someone who is clearly a general kneels at your altar, which is chipped and dirty. The ashes of the food are in front of him, smoking still, and you can taste the wealth in his meal. It can’t distract you from him though, he is striking.

Broad shoulders support a heavy, curly, grey, head of hair, which is bowed in honor of you. His body is widely built, sturdy for battle, and his voice is just as powerful. You’re so focused on hearing his voice you only catch the tail end of his request.

“... Allow me to come home safely, if not for Rome, then for my wife.”

Your heart squeezes, and you swear you can feel the ichor gushing through your veins. Scarcely when a General came to give you an offering all those years ago would he mention a wife, only ever wishing for luck in the upcoming battle or war. But here, now, you’ve been given a respectful request and offering. It isn’t a thought in your mind to not favor him now, your eyes closing and your mouth murmuring a blessing to him. It feels intoxicating to use some of your power again, especially on someone who asked for it. It also feels intoxicating to watch this General leave.

He looks around before he goes, seeming to note how degraded your small temple has become. The statue of you that lies ahead of your altar is yellowing, and ironically, multiple fingers have broken off. The General seems displeased by this, sighing as he exits the temple.

His gait is heavy, sandaled steps weighted as he walks down them and into the torch-lit night. You find yourself looking for him even after he’s disappeared from your sight, the warmth of gratefulness hugging around you. Part of you knows better than to play around with the thought, but still you wish to know more about him.

—

It worsens when he comes back. A few times a week he returns, offering rich foods. It’s been a month now, and you are coming back to life.

Fading didn’t feel like anything, but coming back feels like so much more. The first few offerings had your body feeling alight again, like the ichor in you was flowing again, but within the last two weeks you’ve gotten your fingertips back. They were tingling for a day and then the next you were able to properly grasp things again, nothing was slipping through you.

In that time you had also learned his name. A guard had come looking for him one night, and stood behind him whilst he prayed. You had found yourself smiling when he didn’t interrupt himself, instead acting aggravated once he had finished. The guard had apologized for interrupting and let him know that “Your wife wishes to speak to you, General Acacius.”

Acacius. 

You still don’t know his first name, but it is enough. You can think of it when you feel lonely, when you are bored. Something to associate with the offerings, with the blessings. The fact he has been so consistent hints at a desperation, which would usually repel you from blessing him, but he is the only one who seems to recognize you. His efforts are not going to go unseen by you, not when you have so little to do.

You can feel yourself conceding to your need to know him more, but just as you begin to fight yourself again, he shows up.

Tonight he’s dressed a little nicer. Usually he arrives in a plain tunic but this one has golden trim on it, and his hair is a little more tousled. He stumbles into your altar holding something in a cloth, but he’s walking like he’s… drunk? 

Acacius meanders to your altar, grabbing a torch along the way, and then empties the contents of the cloth. It produces a small dessert bun, a Libum, or honey cheesecake, and your mouth waters. So much of the food that is given to you is savory meats, masculine foods that are heavy on the senses, but this is sweet and delicate. You can, of course, eat whatever you’d like. You’re a Goddess, and though you aren’t major, you are still very fortunate.

But this feels thoughtful.

The General drops to his knees after lighting the bun ablaze, swaying slightly, and now you know he must be drunk.

“Goddess Felicitas,” he begins as normal, “I am sorry I am later than usual. Though I don’t know if Goddesses sleep. I was… caught up in other affairs, but I made it in time.”

He is less eloquent than usual and seems particularly focused on how it is nearly past midnight.

“I brought you this though,” he gestures to the half burnt bun. “I wanted to bring you something different than meat and… things. I thought a dessert would be fitting for that task.”

Acacius pauses now. His thoughts are probably muddled from whatever he drank, and you find yourself smiling. Foolery has never been so endearing to you.

“You have been listening to me, I suppose. My requests for luck in battle have been answered, as well as my safety being ensured. Your blessings have brought my wife peace of mind, something I could not previously afford to her.”

He looks so small in your temple tonight. Normally he is not so vulnerable, but his shoulders sag as he mentions his wife. Some sort of shame runs over him at the idea that he could not ease his wife’s worries, but it makes you feel better that you could help. 

“Goddess Felicitas, I come here tonight bearing no requests, just gratitude. Your blessings have soothed wounds I could not see, and I feel like a young soldier again. You invigor me.” 

Then, he leaves. 

You watch helplessly as he stumbles back down the steps and away from your temple, and more than ever you wish to chase him. The love he has for his wife is clear, and you hold no jealousy of that, but you wish it were you. Something in you is deeply attached to this General now. He has awoken you so much more than rekindling your power as a goddess, more than releasing you from the grief that comes with fading. Yes, Acacius has made your heart beat again, your mind curious again, and you feel seen. Being worshipped is not the same as being loved, if that were true you’d have had many children by now, 

But after so long being forgotten, this feels like what you remember being loved as.

—

You try not to interact with the other Gods for the most part. They tend to meddle in things they don’t need to, and are sensitive. You are not exempt from this stereotype, but that’s only more reason for the distance. 

But today, you venture to meet another deity.

Morpheus is not hard to find. He is pretty stationery where he is, usually lounging on a rock or bench near his temple, or above it in the clouds. He is a bit…dramatic, from what you remember, but wise. 

Today he is stretched out on a cloud above his temple, eyes shut. His pale skin stretches taut on his bones as his lean frame breathes deeply. But, he is not asleep. 

“Morpheus,” you speak. 

His body rolls toward your direction, eyes still shut, but a small smile on his face.

“O young goddess Felicitas, what brings you to me?” He questions.

It’s hard not to feel embarrassed. You’ve spoken to Morpheus on very rare occasions, but he’s always been somewhat helpful, though nosy. Dreams tell a lot about people, and when he’s the one giving them to people, it’s hard to hide anything at all.

You don’t want him to know of your true affection for General Acacius, just that he is… worthy of a visit. 

And so you begin to describe it to Morpheus, your need to visit Acacius. He doesn’t open his eyes at all, but he raises his eyebrows a lot and seems bemused at your situation. You’re only halfway through your rambling before he raises a gangly limb and waves at your words.

“Felicitas, you think you are the only Goddess wishing to visit her admirer? You need no explanation,” he says jovially. 

Morpheus reaches into the air and pulls 6 black berries into existence, then drops them into your open palm.

“When you know he is asleep, bite down on one of these and think of him,” he describes to you.

The berries smell like nothing, but a powdery residue is left on your skin as you roll them in your palm. It doesn’t repel you at all.

Tonight, you will visit him and express the same gratitude he did to you. 

—

Marcus lays next to his wife, Lucilla, with her hand in his. She fell asleep sometime ago, leaving him to lie awake by himself.

He didn’t make it to her temple tonight and the guilt is festering in his body. Marcus knows that she is a Goddess, that he probably isn’t a thought in her mind. He knows that he is just another whiney mortal, giving her food that isn’t nearly as good as whatever Gods eat. His insignificance grows as he feeds into his guilt. 

Stress has permeated his life for much of it, from his time as a young soldier up until now, as a General. Battles, politics, and his family, have created a breeding ground for him to be wracked with anxieties, but he stays strong. Thanks to his time in Felicitas temple, it’s been better.

Which is why failing to make it to her temple tonight is making him feel so bad.

He grabs at the linen sheets of his bed, stressing and trying to reassure himself until he falls asleep finally.

—

Being in a dream is weird. It feels much the same as it does when you disguise yourself as a mortal, the out of body experience is semi-familiar, but it’s weird because someone else is there.

You’ve been watching the General enjoy the lake in front of him for a few minutes now. He hasn’t slipped into it, but just walks along the waterline. It seems like he is looking for something. Surely his dreams usually contain more action, or perhaps are memories, so you assume it may be strangely understimulating for him.

The appearance you’ve chosen is one of modesty, but elegance. A seafoam green peplos hangs off your frame delicately, with golden clasps at the wrists and waist. You did your hair so it would be tucked out of your face. There is no guarantee that Acacius will recognize you like this, but you look much like your statue that’s within your temple.

Swallowing your nerves, you shimmer yourself into visibility. The grassy field is odd beneath your feet, and you walk toward him with uncertainty in each step. You’ve never met with a mortal before, and you haven’t stepped on anything earthy in a long while. His broad stature only becomes more daunting as you get closer, especially since he seems so focused.

You will have to speak first. You’re much too quiet in this environment, and you must act fast lest he wake before you get his attention.

“General Acacius,” you speak firmly, though your hands shake. 

This is so unfamiliar to you. You’ve barely even seen his face, as he’s usually bowed at your altar. It is the first time you’ll see him at an equal level, the first time you’ll have brought yourself to him rather than him to you. 

He turns quickly, an instinctual aggressiveness toward the unknown. You stand about 10 feet from him, eyes widening.

Acacius is striking. His nose is what you focus on first, strong in shape and line, but behind it are his eyes which look to you with wide acknowledgement. His hair curls around his head in greying ringlets, like a permanent laurel crowning him. The wide expanse of his back was once impressive, but now you can see the solid wall which he becomes when facing you. Nothing could push him over it seems, a man built to stand.

Your heart squeezes the way it did the first time he gave you a request, a tender rush tingling your whole body. No words come out of either of your mouths, and the General drops to one knee instantly. 

He recognizes you.

“Goddess Felicitas,” he rushes out in a breath. His chest is heaving as he bows his head and no, no this isn’t how you want this.

Your feet are moving before you can focus on your anxiety, bringing you so close to him that you can kneel too. Maybe a goddess should not kneel before a mortal general, but you are just on your knees rather than putting yourself below him. Your peplos billows a little as air rushes through it when you hit the grass.

He is above you like this, and you tilt your head to see his face again. His strong brow is furrowed, eyes squeezed shut like he is afraid of you. 

“Acacius,” you say softly, “I am not here for… for ill reason. Please relax yourself.”

You lean back as he relaxes, head tipping upwards as he kneels in front of you as well. Now you can meet his eyes, see the crinkles that are beside them, and really take him in.

An energy of anxiety is shared wordlessly, with him stiff from the sight of a literal goddess, and you with the fear of… something. 

The identity of your anxieties isn’t something that you can figure out. Maybe it’s too much to see such a handsome mortal, or maybe it’s that you’re going to thank him for his offerings so personally. Maybe it’s humiliation from this act. What would other Gods think of this? Is it not degrading to become so attached to a mortal? Are you no better than Zeus or Hermes, the gods who interact too intimately with mortals? 

The sound of his labored breathing alerts you, calls your attention back to the present moment. 

“I wanted to thank you,” you admit meekly, “for your offerings. You have been very generous and… devoted.”

His eyes are shifty, and you can see the terror in him still. You don’t want him to fear you, but you can understand why. Visits from Gods or other deities can mean trouble, but you aren’t significant like that.

“General Acacius you are the first mortal who has acknowledged me in a long time,” you offer a vulnerability, perhaps trying to soothe him.

It feels so backwards for you to be kneeling in front of him, speaking. He has done so in front of your altar for many weeks now, but now the spots are switched, yet you are still in power. You avert your gaze as you speak up, wanting to request something of him.

“You’ve been so generous to me, General, I was hoping to know more about you.”

And now, rather than scared, he seems suspicious. 

“To know me?” He clarifies. 

You nod.

“I only know your last name. I think I could offer more luck and splendor if we were more… personal.” 

Gods that felt awful to say. You’re no better than the whorish brutes on their thrones, offering petty glories for intimacy. Everything feels flirtatious but that’s not what you’re looking for. Acacius has a wife he clearly loves, you would never want to interrupt that. 

He seems to hesitate, but he knows he cannot refuse you. So far your blessings have brought ease to his life, he wouldn’t want to lose that.

“Then… yes, I suppose I can offer myself if it would please you.” He responds stoically. 

And it does please you, to know his name. Marcus Acacius, the one who woke you, the one who has saved you from being a fragmented memory within the temples. 

Marcus Acacius, who you are too fond of.

—

You visit him 3 more times. In an attempt to space out the usage of the berries Morpheus gave you, you only visit him once a week. The bleak tasting berries are sour on your tongue, a rotten sour which lingers once you wake up, but it’s worth it.

The two of you have grown closer, with Marcus opening up more. He tells you about the stresses in his life, how much anxiety is buried in him. But, he’s confident for the sake of his wife. You’ve learned that her name is Lucilla, and much more about her. Marcus talks about her a lot, in passing or retelling something she told him. In the small amount of time you’ve gotten to know him, you’ve gotten to know her as well.

It burns you with a strange warmth, a desire and envy which makes your stomach growl. You are hungry for him to admire you in the same way, to speak of you, but doesn’t he already? Shame grips your throat when you think of it. You are a Goddess who he sacrifices to, who he wishes to have blessings from. What more do you need? A mortal couldn't offer you what another deity could. 

After the fourth meeting, you found yourself lonely. Lazing back in the clouds above your temple, you woke with a deep hunger. Marcus is beautiful, an admirable man, and he loves passionately. You are already being such a glutton for even speaking with him, meeting with him repeatedly, so why must you yearn for him too? 

Worship isn’t enough, you want what you will never let yourself to have.

Nothing hints that he might feel similarly. His starry gaze which lands on you is not due to your beauty, your personality, or anything more. You have blessed him, and that is why his eyes glitter. Goddess status has never made you feel so low and isolated. Still, you are happy to help him achieve what he wishes, even as it cripples your heart.

Tonight you plan on visiting him. That fourth visit was a week and a half ago, he may be wondering where you are. He still comes to your altar each night, but the prayers are less personal. Marcus saves his stories and ramblings for when the two of you are in the field, or near the lake, when the two of you are really alone.

—

You bite into the berry at around midnight. Its tangy yet death-tasting juice floods your mouth, clinging to the crevices between your teeth and staining your gums. Closing your eyes, you think of Marcus, and his curls, and his eyes, and his nose, and his strong hands.

And then you are there, and he is waiting. 

It seems like his subconsciousness has picked to be at the lake today, and he’s sat in the sand at the edge of the water. You walk over to him, but notice how… down he appears to be.

“She is not happy with me,” Marcus confesses before you even sit down.

You stand a few feet back from him, looking at how his curls fall around his bowed head.

“Lucilla?” You ask softly.

He nods.

A wicked feeling begins to steep in your heart. She is upset with him, he is in need of you for something more than a blessing. 

And so you listen. 

It’s one of the longer meetings the two of you have had. Marcus doesn’t cry, but he seems truly upset. He’s been called to go off somewhere far again, to fight and kill. Reassurances that you will protect him as best you can only soothe him so much. 

He doesn't care if he dies, he cares that his beloved is distraught over this. 

The more the two of you talk, the closer you get. There are marks on the sand from where you originally sat, but now you kneel in front of him, with creased brows and worried eyes. This isn’t something you can fix, you aren’t familiar with love and its intricacies. 

His knees were tucked closer to his chest before, but they’ve loosened now and his fists rest atop them, clenching. Frustration sits on his face like a mask, one you wish to take off him.

Touching is not… something either of you partake in. Sometimes your shoulders will brush when you sit together, but nothing more has ever been initiated. 

That is why it doesn’t surprise you when he flinches as your hand reaches out to rest on top of his right clenched fist. 

“Marcus,” you say softly, wanting to offer comfort, but he cuts you off.

“Don’t,” he replies swiftly.

At first it hurts, watching as he waves off your hand from his own, but then you look at his face rather than where your hands were joined. The frustrated look on his face is gone, replaced with something worse, something guilty. His eyes aren’t glittering at you like usual, nor are they hardened with anger.

They’re soft pools of conflict that mirror your own.

It doesn’t soothe your burn, satiate your envy. You can see in his eyes that maybe you aren’t alone in these feelings of admiration, of want, but maybe this is not what you want.

Maybe you want a different universe, one where he doesn’t have to be a mortal and you, a Goddess. So you wouldn’t have to worry about him dying, and have this friendship survive off death flavored berries. Maybe you want a universe where he isn’t married, where he could be yours and you wouldn’t feel like a spectator to his heart.

Maybe you want that, but you won’t get it.

Instead the flames of jealousy die in your chest and are replaced with tumors of guilt. Your whole body feels bloated, embarrassed, and ugly. 

The pair of you stare at each other, a stupid realization between the both of you as you realize that your secrets have been spilled, even though it’s the same one.

His eyes don’t move from yours, so you move from his.

The sandy edge of the lake does not look so bright now, even though there are no clouds in Marcus’s dream. 

“When do you leave?” You ask softly. 

You will not follow him into whatever battle he’ll win. Don’t embarrass yourself, Goddess.

He tells you two weeks. You say you’ll see him before then.

Then you wake on a cloud again, with a cavity of guilt in your chest.

—

Marcus wakes alone. 

Lucilla had not wanted to sleep with him that night, choosing to stay elsewhere. She didn’t tell him where, she left in a quiet flurry of tears and anguish.

It’s easier for him to feel guilt over his Goddess than it is to hurt his beloved, even if it is the same.

In a moment of frustration he grasps at the sheets, turning over and biting at his pillow. The bed is so cold, and the room smells like stale air even though the window is open, the night breezy. 

He knows she is beautiful because she is a Goddess. All Goddesses are beautiful, ethereal beings that mortals cannot even comprehend at times. Marcus knows he is lucky to even perceive her, for her to have chosen to visit him.

Yet through all her blessings, he feels cursed.

A plague of emotional infidelity is crawling through his body, sticking to his bones and making him stiff. Everything he does has felt flat for so long, from pretending he is grateful to the Emperors, to now pretending nothing is wrong in his marriage. He’s scared, and exhausted.

Marcus rubs a hand over his face after rolling over and sitting up in bed, groaning into his palm. 

At first he tried to blame her for it. What would a Goddess want from a successful General other than a demigod hero son? What could truly be so special about him? He assumed she was manipulating him, using some sort of power to morph his heart, but now he knows it is not true.

If she had wanted to, she would have had him by now, and he knows this. If she had wanted to, her hand would have stayed where it was tonight, and pushed him further. It isn’t unlike the Gods to force themselves on a mortal, but she didn’t.

Instead, his hand feels hot where hers rested, and his mind is spinning. 

Marcus doesn’t fall asleep again, afraid that he’ll see her. 

—

You wait for a full two weeks before you visit him again. He had been coming to your temple less, and you had assumed he was busy with preparations for the coming battle. 

The stubbornness you felt that night has not left you. At first you did not leave your temple in fear that you would grow attached, now you remain there because you have grown attached. 

“Enough is enough,” you had thought to yourself. 

But it is hard not to miss him, and his soothing prayers. The way his offerings tasted of smoke and sweet, and how he’d always burn such a large portion. Marcus never gave you scraps, he seemed to refuse to. 

However, you can only distance yourself so far. 

It is quiet when you approach him. He is sitting in the field this time, the lake a distant glitter in your eyes. He does not face you, but his head isn’t bowed like before.

“Marcus,” you greet, your voice muted.

He raises his head, turning over his shoulder and nodding, as if to direct you to come closer, and so you do.

Tonight’s visit isn’t vulnerable, or even pleasant. Marcus seems so distant as he dryly tells you about how he’s preparing, and his wishes to return safely. His eyes barely meet your own as he talks, and he continuously twists the ring on his finger.

It grows tiring, watching him ramble about politics you could care less about, listening to him say things that have nothing to do with him. He’s so far from the friend you thought you had made. When the air between you goes quiet, you don’t fill it for a while. You listen to the sound of the wind in the grass as his eyes still will not meet yours. It’s breaking you apart.

This is the last night you’re able to visit him, unless you visit Morpheus again. You will not waste it like this.

“What is ailing you, General?” You ask, deciding to prod more than you usually do.

To your surprise, he scoffs in light laughter.

“You,” he responds quietly.

His words don’t hurt, at least not yet. You have the option to walk away now, wake yourself and leave him with his final blessings, but of course you don’t.

“Me?” You ask, “what have I done?”

Marcus rolls his shoulders back, lifting his head to look into the everblue sky above the both of you.

“You have made my life difficult, Goddess.”

Difficult? You have made his life difficult?

You have half a mind to tear him to pieces, curse him with something awful like snakes for toes, or spoons for teeth. After all that you’ve done for him, all the safety you’ve provided, he is telling you that you make things difficult? How dare he? Be outraged, Goddess, for he disrespects the holy luck which you bestowed to him.

That’s what you should think, that’s how most of you should feel.

But instead you feel small, and hurt. Yes, he is disrespecting all that you’ve given, but also you feel like a failure. Your physical existence is because of him, because he did not let you fade. All you wanted to do was make his life easier, help him to have an eased mind and a safer life.

But instead, he’s telling you you’re difficult.

It feels like your body is shrinking in the white peplos you’ve worn, the sheer fabrics swallowing you. Shame is flooding in the form of tears behind your eyes, wetting your orbs with an unexpected outburst of emotion.

“I am sorry,” you manage weakly.

Marcus does not look at you while you cry, and you want to believe it is because he cares too much to watch, but you cannot verify that.

The wind picks up again, but it does nothing to hide the soft cries you can’t hold back. Once you were a fading Goddess, now you are just a failing one.

There is no luck involved with love.

Eventually he speaks again, with his head turned away from you.

“I am sorry too,” he says. There’s a finality in his tone that makes you ache.

So much is said in such little words. He is sorry to you, for you, and with you. A sorrow is shared between the two of you, knowing that your hearts ache for one another as they are worlds apart yet on earth together. 

This last berry was only supposed to mark the end of your visits, not the end of everything. It feels like this is all there is for the two of you, since it’s too complicated to continue on like this.

That’s why he doesn’t move away when you move closer and rest your head on his shoulder as tears leak down your cheeks, or at least that’s what you’ll believe. 

—

Time moves weirdly when you’re immortal, but it all happens so quickly.

Marcus stopped coming to offer things for you, and so you were blessing him less. Admittedly you had kept an eye on him, but not a keen one. It didn’t feel right, not when you and him weren’t… friends anymore.

But this feels too soon, too fast, too unfamiliar. Has your sadness caused you to be blind?

You watch as a man kneels in front of Marcus, panting and bloody with a sword beside him on the ground.

The only reason you are here was because you had felt the roar of a crowd all the way at your own temple, a wide distance away. It had drawn you in, and instead you had found this.

That roaring which you had heard crescendos to a new height around you as you shimmer into existence, cloaking yourself to the mortal eyes in the stands of the coliseum, but existing enough to touch him.

Arrows stick out of his front, more crushed beneath his back, as he is slumped on the white, gravel, ground. His hair is curled with tacky blood streaking through it, and he is so, so, still.

You drag your hand across his forehead, feeling the remaining heat, and in the echo of the crowd you begin to sob. 

Everything around you is moving, changing, fighting, and screaming, but you sit invisible in the center of the coliseum, running your hands over the now dead General Acacius. There is nothing you can do to bring him back, to ease Lucilla, to save him and apologize. He is dead beneath your fingers, with arrows lodged deep in his irreparable, mortal, flesh. 

You were supposed to keep him safe.

Hot tears run down your cheeks as you keep grasping at his armor, unable to move him or yourself. The last visit felt official, but this feels final. There is nothing more for you here, no friendship in a corpse.

Thoughts are running through your mind at the rate that your breath is puffing from your chest. The question of where he will end up in the afterlife is overwhelming you, and the chance for him to go to Elysium feels reasonable. It’s where he should be, where he deserves to go, especially after all he had done for Rome. You don’t even care why he’s here, or why he seems to have been brutally killed, but after the time you spent with him, Elysium seems right for him.

—

It’s where he should be. Elysium is where he should be.

And it’s where you find him.

His place there is somewhat similar to his and Lucilla’s home back in the mortal world, with lush greenery and airy drapes that flutter in various colours. It seems like he has left space for Lucilla here too, with space left in the chests for her things, and a permanently made half of the bed.

Elysium offers a true celebration of life for heroes, demigodly or not, and you’re sure Marcus has been enjoying that. Anything that he had been shackled to in his mortal life was gone now, and it seems that all he would have to miss is his wife. 

Most of your time is spent there, in his afterlife home. You peer from behind curtains when he comes back, hidden in drapes and keeping yourself small. 

He is already dead, but after the last time you abandoned him, you cannot bear to leave him alone again.

The vision of him, bloodied and murdered on the coliseum floor, flickers into your mind every time you see him lying in his bed. It’s an obsession to be near him, to be looking after him. Pluto might not even know you’re down here anymore, but what does it matter?

Marcus Acacius was the last living mortal to worship you. In the underworld, you are beginning to fade. Your fingers are slipping from you again, which is making it easier to lurk near him, but it is a painful process.

You want to speak to him. No longer do you yearn for his love, not after being in his home and seeing how dedicated his heart truly is to Lucilla, but you yearn to speak to him again. A panicked emotion runs through you at the thought of fading alone, of being entirely forgotten. 

It didn’t matter before he died, fading was just something bound to happen, but now it’s more. Is he forgetting you?

—

You’ve lost most of your arms by the time you work up the courage to speak up. Lucilla arrived sometime ago, joining Marcus in the afterlife. Watching them together brought some warmth to you, some kind of happiness that you couldn’t have for yourself, but seeing it for him was enough.

You sit on the terrace of their home, invisible to their eyes, and somewhat to your own. From the tips of your fingers to just below your elbows, you are a specter. Grey shadow fills where your limbs used to be, and they pass through all objects. You couldn’t tap his shoulder if you tried.

Oftentimes you sit, hidden, and ponder by yourself about more than Marcus. There were so many things you were adamant about when he was alive, and you regret it all now. Your determination to avoid your feelings, or at least not show them, and your need to not become attached… it bites at you now, a stinging, grieving, venom, that won’t leave. Your status as a Goddess blinded you to how tender that friendship could have been, and now you sit as a ghost spectator to his afterlife, obsessed with a mortal as a fading immortal. 

The tips of your fingers pass through the glass you try to grab as you think of this on the terrace. You’re glad that you’re such a minor deity, so at least you do not have to feel so humiliated about fading. A smile has just graced your face as you feel blessed for being so unimportant you can essentially stalk this mortal, when suddenly his voice cuts through the humid air of the space.

“Felicitas?” Marcus’ voice asks.

It’s so hesitant that you think you’re imagining it. You thought you had their home to yourself right now, thinking they had gone to do… whatever souls do in Elysium, but when you turn your face, he is there.

Marcus has not worn fancy clothing in a long while now, and right now is no different. He stands before you in a plain looking tunic, which just graces his knees. To see him at ease has been so nice, but he looks distressed at your sudden appearance.

You cannot find your voice as you awkwardly stand up, trying to think quickly. There is no good way to explain what you’re doing here, hidden away in him and his wife’s home. You could just vanish into thin air, but that feels wrong. He has seen you already, any attempts at pretending you aren’t here would be ridiculous.

His eyes scroll from your face down to your arms, and the smoking shadows that used to be there. Concern pinches onto his face with knitted brows and pressed together lips.

Something in you wants him to turn away, so you don’t have to think about why he is worried for you, even after all the trouble you caused, but he doesn’t.

His sandaled steps are heavy as he comes to you, reaching for your hands but finding the gesture fruitless as his own slip right through yours.

“Dulcissima,” he speaks weakly, shock woven in his words.

You had told him about fading a little while ago, when the two of you were in that field. Now it seems the severity of it has hit him.

What is hitting you is the name. Dulcissima, or sweetest. How long had it been since you had been referred to so fondly? All at once you are being remembered, recognized, and shown some affection. It feels like too much and tears are falling out of your control.

“I’m sorry,” you manage, “I was supposed to– to keep you safe.”

Marcus is shaking his head already, refusing your apology.

“No, no. You did keep me safe, you did. I pushed you away, I couldn’t control myself and I caused this,” he argues. 

It does not comfort you that you both blame yourselves. You wish to reach out to him and touch his face like you should have when he was warm and alive. You want to know if he is cold now, and it’s as if he hears you.

Marcus places a hand on your cheek, a softness in his eyes and hold that says that he missed you.

“I saw you,” he claims, “when I was on the ground. You were the last thing I saw.”

Somewhere between life and death for mortals, there are moments of godly clarity. Some see the light, others see their families and memories, but in that tiny glimpse of time, some see Gods. 

He was able to see you as you knelt over him, sobbing as you were cloaked to any mortal's naked eye.  You were the last thing he saw, and the last thing he truly regretted. 

All you can do is stiltedly nod at him, feeling like you were in trouble even though it seems he’s not upset.

For a moment, his eyes flick away, contemplative, but then he meets your gaze again.

“I told Lucilla of you, before I died. Not– not of my feelings which I struggled with, but that you were a close friend, a blessing in many ways.”

A blessing in many ways.

Another choked sob is wracked from your chest, your bottom lip curling out embarrassingly as your face contorts. He almost coos at you, the thumb on your cheek rubbing away your tears.

“Goddess, I have missed you,” he admits. 

Stupid nods are all you can offer, your voice imprisoned in your ever tightening throat which cries. When he was alive he was never this tender, too confused and insecure to ever touch you, but it seems he has been regretting things too.

“Felicitas,” he says quietly, “do you come here for ill reason?”

You shake your head this time, rather than nodding. You have no reason to be here, other than the fact that guilt has taken over your mind and heart since he died.

“Then relax, dulcissima. I have an offering for you.”

Marcus relaxes his stature, eyes still gazing over you. He looks at your fading palms and you watch him swallow nervously.

“I will worship you again, lending you offerings here, and all I ask in return is for our friendship again.”

It’s the opposite of how you met, almost completely, but it’s everything you need. You will not fade, he will not struggle in marriage, and you will have one another again. 

Again, you are nodding stupidly, but soon you’re embraced by him and nodding into his chest. His hands grasp at your back as he tells you how much he missed you in his final weeks, how he regrets losing you entirely, how he requires you as a friend. 

You are satiated in his arms as he comforts you, awakening you again there on the terrace. Unbeknownst to you, Marcus has let tears slip down too as he holds you close. 

“You will keep me safe here?” he asks jokingly.

It makes you smile, the idea of offering luck to a man who already died.

“Yes, General. I will keep you safe here, from all the horrifying glory and splendor,” you assure.

The two of you laugh, breaking the embrace but staying close. A passionate connection is still between the two of you, but in a different way now. Maybe when he was alive it was romantic because it is all you could think of, but through his death the two of you have come to understand it more. 

You require one another in a unique way, and leaning on one another does not have to be intimate the way he is with his wife. Marcus does need you, just as you need him, and now that you are both immortal in a way, you will never be separated again.

please leave a comment, like, reblog, askbox, or ANYTHING. i'd love to hear thoughts on this <33

tags (people who seemed excited for this) (sorry if these dont work)

@pascalssbabyy , @moonshapedflan , @gossipgirl-03 , @kyloispunk , @frannyzooey , @coocoolahh , @bug-boy32 , @honeymarvel , @magicalmorg , @1deakybass , @tuquoquebrute , @harryshousewhore , @teeagain, @chewie-bars , @vampyyweek , @queenslandlover-93 , @amijenn , @aquanatalie

[princessbrunette]

outlaw!johnb had tried not to take advantage of your sweet body during his stay. what transpired between the two of you on the evening you met felt wrong. not-gentlemanly. like he’d taken advantage of someone sweet and sheltered. he’d been determined to keep his hands to himself until the time was right once more, but as your parents extended their stay away — leaving the house for the two of you to be alone in even longer, he found it increasingly more difficult to do so. especially when you were so keen on playing house.

you’d settled into a routine. john b would get up and tend to the ‘handyman’ things that needed to be tended to, like fixing the fence that had been destroyed in the storm or odd jobs around the house, and you would do all the domestic stuff — like cleaning, preparing meals, tending to the animals. today was laundry day, and clearly the routledge boy was ill prepared for what this meant.

whilst hammering away at the planks of wood beneath the blistering sun, the wavy haired brunette raises his head to see you appearing not far from him, a laundry basket balanced on your hip, wearing the flimsiest, shortest white sundress known to man. he allows his gaze to wander, offering you a small smile when you wave. you set your basket down to begin hanging up laundry on the line to dry, and as you bend down to retrieve the first clean clothing item — a warm breeze gently blows your dress astray, displaying your glistening cunt. john b tips his head towards the sky, closing his eyes with a pained groan. there would be no stopping him.

he tried, for a solid minute — but as he continued to watch you bend, your folds gently spreading each time you did so, he grew hard beneath the hot sun and decided enough was enough. he’d give you what you’d been pawing at him for all week.

“uh, are you kidding? you’ve got to be doing this on purpose. right?” that familiar chesty hum comes from behind you as you hang up a dress and you freeze, a gentle breeze washing over you.

“s’laundry day, john b.” you shrug, not daring to turn around. you wasn’t sure if you could control your lustful gaze.

“yeah? okay well — the lack of underwear is definitely gonna make this a lot easier.” he mutters as he strides closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing his crotch to your ass. “touch your toes, sweetheart.” he commands and you shakily do so with an aroused whimper.

he decides it’s not enough, and when you’re fully bent at the waist, he gives you a gentle nudge forward and you topple onto your knees in the plush grass. “yep, stay riiiight there.” his words are somehow comforting as you hear his belt buckle unlock and his zipper come down. he pulls your dress up your back and swears under his breath at your puffy wet pussy staring back at him. “definitely… knew what you were doing there, huh.” he speaks mostly to himself.

“can you please try n’give me a baby this time, daddy?” you mewl, as he lines himself up and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“please shut up.” he blurts out before opening them. “i mean, uh… just… you can’t say those things sweetheart. trying real hard not to be too rough here.” he pushes in and your toes curl in the grass, a high pitch squeal leaving you as you grasp around at nothing. “i know, hey— stick with me here lil’ pup.” he coaches you, watching the way your body tries its best to relax. john b was big, and taking him with your ass in the air and your cheek in the dirt made him feel heaps bigger.

he bottoms out, tipping his hips completely forward with two hands on your lower back and his jaw agape. “wow.” he breathes out, staring intently at the way you’re stretched around his thickness. he’s snapped from his trance by your head craning round, some dirt on your cheek and grass in your hair.

“john b, the cows are gonna watch you give me a baby.” you’re pouting, and whilst the whole innocent act turns him on — he needed to lock in or he’d really cum inside you again. without much thought, he yanks his bandana from his neck and stuffs it into your mouth before gently pushing your cheek back to the grass.

“there you go. just hold on for me, okay?” he asks before he starts to thrust, bottoming out each time making his thighs slap against your ass cheeks. with each thrust, you let out a devastating little sound — pussy drooling around him. “see? gooood girl. you really like the whole mean, ruffian, outlaw thing, huh? soaking me here, bub.”

[luffysscraps]

Thinking about dog! Hybrid Luffy🔞

Cw; Fem reader. Pet play. Non-con/Dub-con. Breeding kink. Established relationship.

-He leaves holes everywhere in your yard. Literally the moment you step out into your back yard you almost create a sinkhole due to his digging habits. And he’ll just stare at you with a smile and lick you all over.

-He’s very energetic, running up and down through the house, dashing around every chance he gets and begging you to play with him. “Y/N! Play with me! Throw ball! Throw the ball! Please! Play! Play! Play!” Luffy begs his black tail wagging as he runs in a circle around you.

-He can speak a little, but nothing complex. He says stuff like “let’s go outside!” “I’m hungry!” “Can I sleep on the bed?” “Pets please!” “Walk! Walk!” Despite his simple way of speaking he understands everything you say, but takes a while for it all to process. But he doesn’t get the concept of math at all, numbers don’t make sense to him so don’t even try to teach him it.

-“Luffy!” “ Hi Hi! Y/n!! Good morning! Wanna play? Wanna eat?! I’m hungry! Let’s play! No let’s eat! Can we do both?! Hi hi!” He appears the second you call him babbling on and once you call his attention. You mutter the syllable ‘L’ And all you hear is the jingling of his collar. He’s just so happy you called him! He thought he’d just be squeezing his chew toy all day without you. (Which he squeaks on all day regardless)

-Eats all the meat in the house. You literally can’t stock pile meat and have to buy meat literally two portions at a time. The butchers stare at you funny when you only buy three chicken legs at a time. Or one small tiny portion of beef to feed three. And you come here like every day? Little do they know you have a menace in your home who will eat every scrap of meat you have with no shame. You usually only eat one serving while Luffy eats two plus snacks and extra meals when he begs. And he’s in healthy shape due to his energetic nature.

-"LUFFY NO!" is one of your most used phrases whenever you bring him outside with you. He’s very protective of you and any other male hybrid in around you. He’s quick to jump into fights without any warning signs. He’s happy and docile one minute and then he just pounces on whatever male hybrids come close to you. A crocodile, a bear, a flamingo, he was even crazy enough to fight a dragon?!?

- As aggressive as he is, he’s also super friendly?! Like once hybrids clarify they’re not after you he’s trying to play with them after just giving them a black eye??? And somehow it always ends up working???

-He loves to explore and adventure. He’ll just get up, give you a kiss goodbye and run off for days at a time. He has so many friends with other people and hybrids that you’ve never met or heard before. Like you’re sure half of the people he’s mentioned don’t even live in this area. Where the hell did he go? Well he always returns home safe so there’s nothing to worry about. Plus he’s always so excited to see you when he gets back. “Y/N!! I missed you! I had so much fun! But I missed you a lot! “

-Call him a good boy and he’ll melt. His ears stand up and his tail starts wagging. “Really?! I’m your good boy!” He really likes that nickname.

-Oh and if you don’t like being active I’m sorry but Luffy is not the hybrid for you. He’ll literally drag you out with him, and force you to play with him. Trying to do homework? Mf eats it. Trying to play a video game or watch tv? He unplugs it. Trying to simply rest? No you’re not because he wants to play and he’s a selfish bastard. “Let’s play now Y/N!” He says with those puppy dog eyes as he unplugged the TV for the one hundredth time.

-Brings and makes you gifts all the time! They’re not the usual expensive gifts you expect from a partner. He gifts you, your sock he stole from you like a month ago, Old bones from meat he already ate and gnawed on, Dead rats he killed. And then he also likes to draw and write, he draws pictures of you and him with hearts everywhere. Your fridge is filled with them. And he writes you love letters, they’re simple and short but very sweet.

‘Y/N I love you. You pet me on my head. You play with me. You’re pretty and kind. My heart goes fast when I’m with you. -Love Luffy’

-Now when he’s in heat he turns into a horny demon. “Sex! Sex! Sex! Sex!” He chants bouncing around ripping his clothes to shreds and tackling you to the ground, dry humping your body as you just got home from your nine hour shift.

-You’ll know he’s in heat because now he’s walking around the house butt ass naked, balls out with a sweet and devious smile on his face. Don’t try to make him wear his clothes because he’s not going to AT ALL. He’ll rip them to pieces right in front of you and simply say. “Too hot!”

-Steals ALL of your panties. Literally keeps a heap of them in his bed. And has no shame in it, licking them while you’re watching him. His bed sheets have to be washed daily when he ruts because he cums gallons and will jerk off all day long.

-He just stared at you with lidded eyes. “Please Y/N… sex…” He whines out licking your earlobe. He tries his best to hold back, he really does but his urges take over after holding out for so long. He needs to be inside of you and now.

- And when you bend over it’s practically over. That’s you basically inviting him to mount you and stick his hard on inside! One minute you’re bending down to pick up a book you dropped, the next you’re on the ground, face first with Luffy’s large meaty hard cock inside of your cunt.

-He never really asks but he can smell your hormones. You want it too. Plus your moans are enough to tell him you do! Or are those his moans? He can’t tell at this point, he’s so horny and he needs to release.

-You honestly don’t mind his heat, he’s surprisingly gentle and will stop if you ask him too. But the only thing you have to do is always be on the pill- Luffy has no idea what condoms are and when you tried to put one on him he ripped it off in seconds. “Feels weird. No way!” He says with a smile before pounding into your pussy raw. And because he’s in heat, his number one goal is to get you pregnant.

-So every time you guys fuck and the next day your stomach isn’t big and round with his kids he gets mad. Just staring at you and your stomach. “What’s wrong?! Get pregnant already!” He whines with frustration. Oh well if you didn’t get pregnant the last time, he’ll make sure you do now, every last bit of his cum is going in your pussy. He doesn’t let a drop escape it when he finally releases into you.

-Yeah your hybrid boyfriend is pretty hard to handle, but would you settle for anyone else? Not a chance. <3

[rubylovessharks]

floyd leech x fem reader x jade leech smut warning: this has some yandere details and this is smut. kinda dark (?) reader is fine with it though. this didnt start with an established romantic relationship with the twins but did end with one. from my (very short) research i have found some stuff about how moray eels get to the point of mating, which is to have enough food, for the water temperature to be warm and if i remember correctly the ok sign for them to mate is their mouth being open (?) so ive been thinking of this scenario for the past few days. this was longer then intended :(

You were in the Monstruo Lounge with your friends after you all finished all of your tests for this semester, you all wanted to celebrate together. So here you are talking and waiting for your orders but you feel eyes on you. I mean it makes sense because you are in a dorm full of scheming guys, so you can never tell what any of them is thinking. Yet the unnerving feeling of being watched doesn't seem to end. Little did you know that a set of twins were looking your way from not too far preparing you and your friends order.

"Ughh I just don't get why shrimpy hangs out with those guys! Like are they better then us? no!" The taller of the two pouts his face as he talks with his twin. "Now now Floyd, there's no need to worry. I know she prefers us a lot more then her..." he pauses for a moment there as to find a better word then the one he is thinking, "friends." his signature smile on his face as he finishes making your food. "how about you help me get these orders to the customers and then we'll call our lovely pearl for a little..talk?" "ohhh~ that sounds sooo much more fun then handing out orders!"

And here was your food. Delivered by the Leech twins. Their smiles uncanny yet charming, you think to yourself. It really was true that you like them over your friends. Your fantasies just as twisted as theirs, you wouldn't even mind if your food was spiked just so they could take you down into the depth of the sea.

"I hope you all enjoy your food and drinks." Jade says with a smile. His head then turns to you, "i hope you won't mind if he had a chat after you finish your dish? Me and Floyd had something we wanted to talk to you about." It wasn't everyday you were called to a one on two chat with your crushes, you nod a bit to fast with a smile that was too wide. "We hope you enjoy your meal! We worked reaaal hard on it, we even got you extra!" Floyd says as he waves to you while he and his brother walk away.

You finish your food quickly as you were excited for your interaction with the twins. You bid your friends farewell and walk to the Monstruo Lounge bar table to find the twins, instead you are greeted by Floyd. "You actually came! Saves me work. C'mon Jade is waiting in our room!" He tells you, seeing your confused look he adds, "what you didn't think we wanted to talk here. With all of those hungry eyes on you."

as you walk over to their room Floyd takes your hand roughly, squeezing it. He is also tagging you a bit but other then the rough treatment nothing really happens on your way to their room. Although you seem to notice that Floyd's eyes are on you and not the way ahead. Once you get Infront of their door Floyd slams it open, not enough to break it but you are sure they'll need to fix it later...

In the room Jade is standing there with a bunch of different stuff mostly food and bottles of water, and there's even more on their tables. "I brought them!" Floyd takes you as if showing his brother a prize he won, big smile on his face. "Floyd i am sure you are leaving a ton of bruises on them...You should let them go a little." Jade says as he finishes putting all the stuff he had in his hands on the table and turns back to the both of you. "oh come onn.. We are gonna leave marks on them anywaysss! Why not start now.." Your face turns to one of confusion after what Floyd said, what did he mean by 'we are gonna leave marks anyways'...?

"My Floyd you are scaring the poor thing." Jade gives Floyd his usual calm face. "Do not worry pearl, it won't hurt too much." he looks at you now, yet his words don't help you understand the situation any better. "I do hope you ate all of the food we gave you. We would be very upset if you didn't." He gives you a hurt face "yeaah we worked so much just to keep you from bein' hungry in our lil' session~" now you are even more confused.. "Oya? It seems she doesn't know what we are talking about. My did you not tell her brother?" "huhhh? Was I supposed tooo.."

"Alright then, dearest I hope you noticed the temperature this season. Eels don't have an actual mating cycle. We get to mating when the water temperatures are warm, that there's enough food to eat and we have all of these conditions." Now you get it...All that extra food, that talk about marks.. All of it was their natural instincts. Wait- what does that mean that they took you for that?!

"ahha! Red fits you well shrimpy~!" "It seems our little prey has understood their situation." You weren't actually listening, still trying figure out how you got both of your crushes to pick you as their mate you don't even notice as Floyd pushes you over to his brother who pushes you on the bed. "Do not worry pearl, we will take good care of you." Jade smiles at you as he starts taking your uniform off. "Can't we just rip it though?? Like she won't need it anyways if she is gonna be staying here.." "my brother where are your manners."

You try to ask what is it that they mean by that and you immediately feel small after asking. They laugh at your question, your stupid, stupid question. "My shrimpy you are so silly!" Floyd gets closer as he says that, "you won't need to go outside when you are our mate. All you need to think about is being a good lil' wifey or us, yeah?" "Floyd's right dear. The outside is no place for you, with all of those hungry, hungry people just wanting even one bite out of you! You are a lot more safer here with us." they flash a smile at you, one that should be considered creepy yet you aren't afraid at all. Instead you give one smile of your own, maybe not as creepy and sadistic, yet still a smile that says a lot from how you feel about your situation.

"Oh what a cute smile you've got there shrimpy! I just wanna squeeze you to death!!" Floyd falls on top of your body as he says that and immediately starts to touch your squishy parts. You guess that he isn't a huge fan of your clothes as he starts to claw at them trying rid of them. "Oya oya Floyd no need to claw at her clothes." The shorter twin tries to calm his twin down yet to no avail as the taller one broke the fabric with his unkept nails, scratching a bit of your skin in the processes. Seeing as he already got to break down some of your uniform he continues until he finishes destroying the piece of clothing off your body, leaving you naked and easy for the taking.

"See! I told you it'll be better if we just cut her clothes to pieces!" Floyd tells his brother, big smile on his face. His brother looks at you before answering Floyd, "my, I guess you were correct." As you look at Jade Floyd gets to work on your body, his not so human tongue all over your neck and some of your chest, licking and licking until he puts his mouth on your body.

Sharp teeth nibling on your body threatening to draw blood, as he gets closer to your most sensitive spot and he bites it. And he bites it HARD. You let out a small scream as tears well up in your eyes and you immediately feel a set of fingers on the top of your head. "shhh. As I said before this doesn't hurt too much, please try to endure for us love." Jade pets your head trying to keep you from thinking too much about the pain. You try to keep yourself from making any more pained sounds as Floyd's mouth lets go of the spot, Jade shoos Floyd to let him comfort you further as he licks the wound.

"Hey hey shrimpy now even if someone sees you they'll know who you belong to! Ain't that funn~?" You nod at him as your hand reaches to Jade's head as he still licks your wound from Floyd. "YEAH!? Greatt!! I'm so happy to know we both agree this is for the best" his smile grows wider by the second. You suddenly feel a soft kiss being placed on another sensitive spot of yours, Jade loooks up at you from his spot before speaking. "Now I want to warn you before I mark you as well love, I promise to be gentle just bear with me, alright?" you nod at his words preparing yourself before the second assault, and as Jade promised his bite is indeed more gentle then Floyd's yet it still hurts a lot.

"Heyy shrimpy how 'bout you jerk me off as Jade continues to mark you up?" You look over to Floyd as he already has his pants off and his dick out. So now you have one hand that is clenched on Jade's hair and the other is jerking Floyd's cock. You take time to take in the details of his privates, a lot more girthy then long, it gets more red as it gets to the head it would probably hurt to take into your mouth. Yet you don't think you will be against it. The closer Floyd is to orgasam the louder his noises are.

You feel Jade stop what he was doing and his head's direction turns to Floyd. "Don't you want to have your first orgasam of the session inside of her Floyd?" "ugh get off my back I can paint both her outside and insides white. It doesn't matter!" Even though it is clear Jade doesn't approve of his twin's way of thinking, he can do nothing as Floyd releases his come over your stomach and chest.

"Heyy Jade think lil' shrimpy could take the both of us in the same time?" Floyd looks over to Jade with a sadistic smile, "my not with her dry her flods are!" your privates are in fact not dry at all, how wet do you even have to be to properly take them?! "Oh don't worry love. I'll make sure you can take us both as soon as I finish eating you out." "whatt? I was hoping I could eat her out first!" "you can take her mouth if you'd like. I'm sure it's just as fun."

Right when they finished arguing they both got into position. They lay you down on the bed so your head would stick out for Floyd to have easy access to your mouth, and for Jade to have an easy access to your privates. Jade's own mouth is skilled enough to please you to orgasm after a short while of just some licks and tongue fucking, while Floyd abused your mouth and throat already getting close to his second orgasm.

That's what your few next hours looked like. Sucking on Floyd's cock as he throat fucks you and as his balls slap against your face. Having Jade in between your legs fingering you, sucking on your clit and of course, tongue fucking you. You came so many times by now you have lost count! Of course Floyd isn't any different.. Stuffing and messing your throat, mouth and face with his sticky cum.

"Don't you think she is ready to finally take us both?"

[sinning-23]

#1 Eater (Sukuna x Reader) (Modern Au?)

Alright yall I know you guys really liked the Uncle!Sukuna x Reader I put out a while ago so here’s some more of that but with a bit of a different plot lmao. ENJOY!

Ps. Please excuse any spelling/grammar mistakes I tried to proofread but I always miss stuff

Warnings: THIS IS 18+ minors gtfo.

————————————————————————

If there was anything you knew about your boyfriend, it was that he loved food. That mf could eat seconds, thirds, and forths if you let him and not even break a sweat. His love language was without a doubt home cooked meal and his favourite dessert after (9 times outta 10 it ended up being you)

That’s besides the point though. Today, his attitudes seemed a hell of whole lot more irritable than usual and it was taking everything in tiu figure out what the problem was.

The cabinet had closed for the third time after Sukuna had shuffled to the kitchen the fourth time in an hour. He scoffs, kissing his teeth as he moves to the fridge again.

“I don’t know what you keep looking in there like somethin’ new is gonna magically show up.” You tease, mindlessly scrolling on your phone, already looking for something to get delivered.

Hell you were hungry too, and if you were hungry, he definitely was. He fold his arms over his chest, hangry scowl ever present over his tatted facial features.

“Tell Yuji he can’t come over no more if he’s gonna eat up all my snacks.” Sukuna scoffs, plopping down on the couch, his cheek now resting on your warm and plump thighs.

He’d probably never admit outright but that was his favourite spot.

“Ryo, he’s a growing boy. He’s gonna want to eat everything you have in here. I’ll just get you more, let the boy eat what he wants.” You defend, brushing your fingers through his hair as he rolls his eyes, pressing kisses to your skin now.

“I don’t give a damn he need to stop eating up all MY shit.” Sukuna pouts, brows furrows as you laugh in response, still caressing his scalp as he hums into your thigh.

Your order had finally been placed and according to the app, food would be here in about 30 minutes. You drop your phone beside you, adjusting a bit but stop when you feel two strong hands and a set of teeth sink into you.

“OW! Ryo, the fuck-“

Your complaint is cut short when he looks at you, that same hungry scowl on his face as he kisses the indentation of his teeth upon your skin.

“ M’ starvin.” He states plainly, tugging your leggings down and away from your ankles.

“Yes I know, I just got-Oh fuck.” You swear, his tongue already sliding between your folds.

He’s got your thighs covering his ears partially so any protest on your part is muffled. He groans, only pushing his mouth further onto you, the grip on your thighs tightening.

“Yeah, this’ll hold me over just fine.” He hums, rubbing circles on your hips as you arch into his touch.

He takes his time, tongue sliding circles around your clit, the teasing making you whine. He laughs at your struggle to get more. Pulling away, he smiles, tongue running over his teeth when he does, chin glistening in the sunlight that fills the apartment.

“Squeezing your legs awful tight, you just want me to starve huh?” He jokes, plunging two fingers into you as your grip his forearm.

You can’t even think up a response, his fingers curling up, in, and out.

“Ryo I-.”

Sukuna had formed a habit of cutting you off in moments like this, especially when you were too blissed out to finish your sentence anyway.

“Ryo, Ryo, Ryo~” He’s mocking you, bastard.

“Hush and lemme finish.” He scoffs playfully.

His head delves right back to where it was before, only helping your orgasm creep closer and closer when paired with his fingers. And you can feel it, fuck can you feel it. The base of your spine tingling with that oh so familiar feeling and right before you can let that pressure snap-

*DING DONG*

There’s a pause, Sukuna’s brows furrows downward. He tried to ignore it but as soon as he put his mouth back to work there it was again.

“DING DONG*

*DING DONG*

By the third ring Sukuna is already up, his slides dragging angrily over the hardwood.

The swings the door open, the little delivery driver looking far more frightened than anything. Sukuna’s hulking frame fills the doorway as he leans down with a scowl, eyeing the bags in the persons hands.

“WHAT?” He announces loudly as the driver scampers to thrust the two big bags of food toward your boyfriend.

“D-Delivery for Y/n L/n! I just-just needed to confirm it before I leave!” They defend, hands shaking as Sukuna looks over his shoulder toward the couch where you resided.

“Uh huh. You only need to find the doorbell once, she’s busy.” He smirks, taking the food before shutting the door.

There’s a moment of silence before you hear slides shuffling again and the wrinkle of plastic bags. Then more shuffling, and before you know it Sukuna is back over you.

“Aren’t you gonna eat? I got food for us baby?” You hum, holding his have in your hands before he presses a sweet kiss to your lips. You can briefly taste yourself on them.

“Well yeah, gotta finish my dessert first though. I don’t waste food.”

[gayvorestories]

How about predator who’s having huge indigestion/belly ache from the person he ate, and he’s struggling very much with hiding his belly because prey is melting much longer than he expected?

this got very long, so I'm gonna have to write a second part another time. I liked this idea, and I thought it would be kind of a hot twist for the pred to get caught and have to eat the person who figured them out. I hope you like it!

Derek sighed and stretched, the warm water of the shower running down his distended, shaking belly. A hot shower after choking down a hookup always felt amazing, and this one was putting up a huge fight.

He sighed and patted the sides of his belly, "hey, shhh, it's okay, you're gonna hurt yourself fighting like that."

The man in his stomach yelled something he couldn't make out, but sounded very angry.

He turned the water off and stepped out, drying off with a towel as he stepped up to the mirror to fix his hair. The smooth surface of the counter was cold as his belly brushed it while he leaned in close to the fogged up glass, making sure to get the part even. He wiped the glass with a towel and stepped back, getting a good look at his stomach.

Derek was 6'11" and built like a brick wall, and his latest lucky meal was a 5'2" twiggy twink he had picked up online. He let out a long burp and gave his belly a rub while he thought to himself, I give him a few hours and no one will know.

He wandered towards the kitchen, his stomach shaking and kicking, and searched the fridge for a beer. When there was nothing in the door he took a deep breath and bent down to check the lower shelves, his meal thrashing as the contents of his stomach went sloshing forward.

Ah FUCK, I forgot to get the beer first!

Absently rubbing the bottom of his gut while leaning on the fridge door, he questioned whether it would be worth an in-and-out at the gas station down the street. The cashier is usually high and it's a weekday... maybe if I wear the baggy hoodie... he was kind sm-

Derek let out a pained moan, his meal had just given him a pretty solid kick. He flexed his abs back hard in response, squeezing his entire core on the man trapped inside until he started to shout.

"Don'tchu fuckin kick me like that again. I can squeeze harder than that, I'll break your fuckin arm. I'm not lettin you out, but I can make this hurt," he said as he gave another mild squeeze with his abs.

He heard a whimper in reply and went to get his big hoodie. Now he needed a beer.

The biggest hoodie in the house barely covered his belly, but it was bulky enough he just looked like he'd had a huge meal if he leaned forward a little. He slipped out, hood up, and tried to quietly slip to his car.

Two steps out, he almost walked directly into his neighbor.

"Oh hey man!"

"Oh, uh, hey Kenny," Derek said, trying not to lose his balance stepping out of the way.

"Really great day out today, it's finally warming up," Kenny said smiling as he turned the key in his apartment door.

"Oh, yeah, yeah it's great. Gotta, uh, go do some stuff."

"You alright man?" Kenny said, pausing before going in.

"Yeah, yeah I'm good, just woke up late," Derek lied. He felt his meal shift, pushing into the front of his stomach. He moved his hand to cover the spot and turned around quick, unsure how much Kenny had seen, "I gotta get goin, good to see you man."

"Yeah, you too," Kenny said in a slightly different tone.

Fuck I hope he didn't see that.

Derek put his hands in his pockets and walked across the lot to his car, the heavy weight in his stomach starting to weigh him down. He practically fell down into the seat of his car and leaned back for a moment, rubbing his sore belly. It felt like the guy in there had been doing backflips the whole walk, and his stomach was starting to wake up.

He tried to sit the seat up, but was immediately stopped when his gut pressed hard into the steering wheel. Derek sighed, repositioned the seat, and cranked the car. At least my feet reach the pedals, he thought to himself as his stomach gave an uncomfortable groan.

The entire way to the store, his stomach bubbled and churned as the man inside struggled against his waking digestive system. He parked and leaned back in the seat again, patting his gut as it let out a low, unhappy groan. "Buddy you have got to stop moving so much."

Derek got out and walked inside the almost-empty gas station and headed straight for the beer cooler in the back. He picked up a single 24 pack and felt another rough bump from inside. After a long sigh, he reached down and picked up another and headed for the door, only to be see that the previously empty store was now packed with about a dozen people.

He steeled himself and pushed forward. Two people blocking the first aisle, one person in the second but standing in the dead center... ah, I see a path, he said to himself as he slipped around a kid spreading out candy bars on the bottom shelf and counting them. He stepped into the next aisle through a gap between them and had to take a quick step back when two kids running through the store almost ran right into him.

His meal gave a solid nudge against one of his organs and he lurched to the side, bumping belly-first into a display rack filled with individually wrapped muffins. As it tipped Derek tried to catch it, but his newly-weighted stomach knocked him off balance and he lost his footing, hitting the ground alongside it, plastic wrapped sweets sliding across the floor.

Derek was dazed and blinked a few times to get his bearings as he tried to stand, but couldn't quite do a full sit-up.

"You alright, mate?"

Derek looked to the side and saw a hand reached out. The man reaching out was tall, decently built, and had a thick aussie accent.

Oh fuck, he's hot

He took the man's hand and stood up, picking up the stand with his other hand and setting it back where it went.

"Yeah, yeah I'm good," Derek managed to put together.

"Yeah you took a hard fall there mate," the man said as he picked up a few muffins off the ground.

Derek realized everyone in the store had just watched him wipe the fuck out, including this incredibly hot man who was now helping him clean up.

Oh no, he's hot

"Y-yeah, just lost my balance there," Derek said as he picked up a few muffins too and set them back on the display.

Unthinkingly, Derek stood up to full height as the man turned around and looked up at him. He froze while putting a muffin back, his mouth slightly open.

"You uh. Glad you're good. Good you're uh, on your feet," the stranger said with a very familiar look.

Derek smiled, suddenly a lot less embarrassed. The man had a handsome face, a thick blonde mustache with dark brown eyes, and the tanktop he was wearing showed off nice arms and a cute beer belly. He seemed so tall from the ground, but now Derek could see he was at least a foot taller than the man.

"I'm uh Joshua. Josh. I'm Josh."

Derek's stomach gave a low grumble as his meal shifted again, rippling the surface of his hoodie.

Josh's eyes widened and Derek grabbed both cases of beer. "I gotta go," Derek said, taking a step forward.

"W-wait!" Josh said, taking a step in front of him, "I uh.. do you.." he started. He lifted his arm and scratched behind his head while he tried to form the words and Derek did everything he could to stop from darting his eyes right to his pit. His stomach let out another groan and the movement under his hoodie was obvious this time.

"Do you want to go to dinner? I uh. Can bring a friend," he said, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

It took a second for what he was asking to process, but when it did Derek's eyes widened. "Oh, uh, yeah. I'd like that."

His stomach let out another gurgle, like water flowing through a pipe, and someone looked over from the next aisle. "I gotta get going though."

Josh took out a pen and wrote a phone number on the side of Josh's beer box. "Just uh. Y'know, gimme a text."

Derek smiled and went over to the line, his stomach starting to pick up in intensity. He could feel it starting to squeeze and fill with juice by the way it sloshed when he walked. He leaned forward to hide the movements under the jacket as he waited for the person in front of him to pay, his stomach making increasingly loud, increasingly wet groans.

The person in front of him took his receipt and looked at Derek as he passed, clearly unhappy with the noise. He put up both cases on the counter and set his card against the chip reader, using his other hand to lean on the counter. The constant weight in his stomach was starting to turn from a dull ache to a steady pain as he heard the card reader beep.

"Keep the receipt," he said as he took the cases and slipped out the door.

...

When he got home, he set both cases down on the couch and kicked his shoes off to the side. His stomach ached and he was ready t-

The doorbell rang.

Oh my god please let me sit, he thought to himself.

He looked through the peephole and saw Kenny. Oh fuck, he saw.

After taking a deep breath, Derek opened the door.

"Hey man, what's up?" Derek said quickly.

"Hey man, can I come in for a sec?"

"Y-yeah, sure, why?"

Kenny stepped inside, "hey, y'know, we've been neighbors for a while, right? I uh, I see stuff. I see guys go in, I see... only you come out. I'm not dumb, I know what's goin on. I know where all the protein for that bulk comes from," he said laughing.

Derek was silently staring down at him.

Kenny stopped laughing and his smile dropped. "Look man, I got stuff in my apartment I don't want the cops going through. You can't be going out all..." Kenny mimed having a bloated stomach and Derek felt a bead of sweat running down his neck.

"All what, Kenny?"

Kenny froze, locking eyes with Derek. He reached for the doorknob but Derek was fast, grabbing him by the wrist so hard it hurt.

"A-Ah! Dude stop, stop! It doesn't have to be like this!"

Derek let go of his wrist and shoved Kenny down the hall. He turned the deadbolt and tossed his sweatshirt on the couch as Kenny stood up and tried to get his balance. He looked up and froze when he saw Derek approaching, the distinct shape of a man still shifting just underneath the muscles of his stomach.

"O-oh fuck. I-is... dude what the fuck."

The man struggled inside Derek's body, kicking and yelling. Derek could make out one word: "run."

Kenny crawled backwards until he hit the wall. When the meal in Derek's stomach gave another hard kick to his kidney, he flexed his abs hard, the vein in his forehead popping out. Kenny's blood ran cold when he heard a sickening crunch.

"Should have minded your own business, man."

Kenny tried to make a dash for the door, but Derek reached down and grabbed him by the neck, slamming him into a wall.

"Here man, since you're so curious," Derek said as he shoved Kenny to his knees and pushed his belly against the side of Kenny's head, "have a listen."

Kenny struggled and tried to push Derek back, but he was stronger than he could have imagined. He grabbed Kenny by the neck again and lifted him to his feet.

"I think his name started with an 'A'," Derek said as he made a strange face. His stomach gurgled and a few seconds later he coughed up a slimy, half-digested wallet. He opened it and looked at the license inside and showed Kenny, "I was right! His name was Aaron." He popped the wallet back into his mouth and swallowed it, forcing Kenny to watch as his throat bulged when it went down effortlessly.

"You know, it's so nice not to have to fuck my meal first for a change. You wanna know a secret?"

Kenny was too stunned to speak and just gasped.

Derek leaned in and whispered in his ear, "do you wanna know a secret?"

Kenny let out a sob and shook his head.

"Well I'll tell you anyway. Men taste so much better when they're afraid. Are you afraid?"

Kenny nodded and let out another sob.

"You should be. I'm going to digest you alive."

"P-please," Kenny said sobbing again.

"It's gonna hurt the whole time."

Kenny panicked and tried to fight back but barely shook Derek's arm.

Derek changed his grip and lifted Kenny by the back of the neck with one hand and grabbed one leg with the other. He put the first foot in his mouth - shoe and all, and swallowed while he grabbed the other foot. He bent Kenny over as he started to drag him in, his knees scraping Derek's teeth.

"No, no no no! NO!" Kenny screamed as he tried to swing a punch. He missed every swing as Derek turned him, forcing his legs to cross as he continued to descend down Derek's throat. He was at his waist and Derek straightened up, speeding up the processes as gravity started to do most of the work.

"You can't do this! You can't! DON'T DO THIS!"

He pushed against Derek's face, but his throat was too strong as the steady pull of his esophagus and hard pulses from forceful swallows dragged him deeper. When he felt teeth on his chest, Kenny pushed hard on Derek's shoulders but he wouldn't budge, and a hard gulp pulled him in so far his arms could no longer bend all the way down.

"SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME, PLEASE!" Kenny screamed as Derek gave another swallow, bringing Kenny's head into his jaws.

"SOMEONE PLEASE! HE'S EATING ME! PL-" Kenny's voice was suddenly muffled as Derek took another swallow, dragging his head into his throat. A few more gulps and all that remained outside were his hands. Derek walked over to the couch before the final swallow and plopped down. He gave one last very difficult gulp and felt Kenny's fingers disappear into his body.

As Kenny's body slipped under his rib cage and into the wider part of his stomach, Derek felt his entire center of gravity change. He pulled the lever on the couch to pop out the chair and leaned back as he felt Kenny's hand slip past the valve to his stomach, sealing him in permanently.

Kenny began to thrash as Derek turned on the TV and cracked open a beer. He chugged half the can and gave his enormous belly a rub. "Shouldn't've gotten involved bud."

Derek leaned his chair forward slightly so he could see over his gut, but after a few minutes of watching Kenny struggle and fight he leaned back again to watch.

He looked over at the box of beer cans and remembered Josh. He reached for his phone and punched in the number, hoping Josh wouldn't block him for calling.

"Hey it's Josh."

"Hey, it's Derek, from earlier."

"Oh, hey, didn't uh. Didn't expect you to call."

"Yeah uh. Well earlier you asked if I wanted to uh. Have dinner."

Derek blushed a little when he heard the voice on the other line laugh softly, "yeah, you feeling hungry mate?"

"Oh, well, I ate a pretty big meal."

"Yeah I remember you looked pretty full when I saw you earlier."

Derek grinned, "I mean I ate again just a minute ago."

Josh laughed, "Twice in one day?"

"Yeah, I didn't think I would be able to but I got it down. I was wondering if you want to come over for uh... dessert."

"Mate I'll level with you, I'm bad at the double-meaning thing, you askin if I want to come over for a good fuck?"

Derek laughed hard, "yeah, pretty much."

Josh laughed back, "alright yeah that sounds fucking great. Text me your address."

"Alright, see you in a bit then."

Derek texted Josh the address as Kenny thrashed in his stomach. He leaned back and finished off his beer, stretching as his stomach gurgled happily.

Part 2 Coming Soon!

[paperultra]

eye to eye.

Pairing: OPLA!Monkey D. Luffy x Reader Word Count: 781 words Warnings: None

He’s been staring for five minutes now.

Five minutes and thirty-three seconds, to be exact. Twenty-seven more seconds and it’ll be six minutes, and you don’t know if you can handle six minutes of him looking at you; everyone on this ship has fallen prey to those big brown eyes, and you are certainly no exception – how many times have you scraped off the last portion of your meal onto his plate, or let him trail after you and chatter away while you did inventory, or sat on the figurehead with him despite your fear of heights because of those eyes? The answer is more than once, and you know you’d do it again in a heartbeat as you finally look up from your newspaper.

“You need anything, Luffy?”

“Nope,” he says.

He continues to stare at you, that achingly wide, sunny grin on his face. You blink. He does too.

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

“... Well,” you say slowly, more befuddled as the seconds tick by – surely, it’s now been over six minutes – “do you want something?”

(There is always a ninety-two percent chance that Luffy wants something, concrete or not. Seventy percent of the time it is concrete, and the thing he wants is food.)

Luffy shakes his head. He props his elbows onto his knees and rests his chin in his hands, and you swear you see his eyes sparkle underneath the tattered brim of his straw hat.

“I just like looking at your face,” he chirps.

The force of those few words is enough to stop your heart in your chest. It stutters in place, then starts again, jumping with glee.

“H-Huh?”

“I like looking at your face,” he repeats as if you didn’t hear it the first time.

You lick your lips, grappling for something to say in response to such a strange answer. “It’s … it’s not much to look at,” you finally say, curling up out of habit. “There’re better faces out there.”

“But I want to look at yours.” Luffy jabs a finger towards you. You shrink back a bit, cheeks beginning to warm. “And there’s lots to look at, like your nose and eyes and stuff.”

You wonder if you should take that as a compliment. But Luffy doesn't do compliments; he only does the truth, and maybe that makes what he’s said infinitely more valuable.

"Thanks for noticing," you reply, awkward but fond. He nods happily, and you find yourself adding, "I like looking at your face too."

It's not a lie, nor an attempt to return the favor. You do like looking at Luffy's face. You like the wild, coal-black curls framing it, the perpetually goofy smile, the scar, the eyes that turn into dark honey in the sunlight. The eyes that look back at you and promise freedom and joy and everything good the world has to offer.

"You do?" He sounds very pleased and scoots closer. "That's great! We can look at each other."

"Won't that get boring after a while?"

"If it does, we can go and eat something."

You snort, face now very hot as you move to sit cross-legged. "You're funny, Luffy."

And so you look at Luffy, and Luffy looks at you, knees touching and the room still with a few rare seconds of contemplative silence. A few seconds, because that is all you can take before you dissolve into giggles, half flustered and half entertained. (This is how you often are around him nowadays.)

It isn't long before Luffy joins you, and the two of you end up lying on the floor, cackling until you're out of breath.

"Ahhh! That was fun," Luffy gasps once he can speak coherently again. "Now let's get something to eat!"

"You're bored already?" you ask in between gulps of air.

"No, but I'm hungry." With a grunt, he rolls back and catapults himself onto his feet, then picks you up and sets you down to stand before tugging on your arm. "Let's ask Sanji to make us a snack."

You nod, and soon enough, the floor of the Going Merry thrums with the sound of two scruffy pairs of shoes running over it, laughter bouncing off the walls as Luffy's hand grips yours. It's the same way he holds your heart, tightly but kindly. You squeeze back.

Three words balance on the tip of your tongue. You swallow them.

One day, you think. One day, he will look at you like he did today, and you will tell him how much a person like him means to a person like you.

But right now, you're going to ask Sanji to make you and Luffy something to eat.

[weebsinstash]

I've been having a lot of FOOD based ideas for Alastor recently, because cooking and eating in general can actually be VERY personal, intimate things, so here's a bunch of concepts all at once

- I keep thinking of ideas where Reader's hotel room is set up like a studio apartment and you have your own little kitchen in there and ideas stemming from that where Alastor likes to pop in and see what youre cooking and, semi occasionally give critique you didnt ask for but is sometimes actually super helpful

You know, I've had a whole "hotel having group meals" thing and I just picture there are specific nights or times where everyone has the option to gather for some home cooked food, but Alastor refuses to participate because Lucifer is the one cooking, so he's wandering the Hotel until he smells something absolutely delicious, and he finds you cooking in your room, and him visiting you starts becoming a regular thing. He just suddenly appears two feet behind you without warning, "SO! What's for eatin' tonight?" with his Cheshire grin while you give a startled shriek and he potentially has to keep you from spilling or breaking whatever you're holding

- I've been learning how to cook more things and, since it's, you know, LEARNING, I have to look up and double check a lot of stuff, which I use my cellphone for, and I can imagine Alastor HAAAAATING this. You're telling me you've got this intelligent, distinguished gentleman chef right next to you and his nosey ass peeks over your shoulder to see you Voogling "how to cook rice"???? You'd rather use that blasted device than ask your deer friend? He'd be kind of offended actually. Just one of those things that makes him click his tongue at you and pat your head like you're so pitifully helpless, how are you EVER going to be able to care for yourself if you overly rely on tech so much? Guess he'll just have to use this as an excuse to become a mentor to you--

- so, you know, I'm gonna come right out and say I have some, vaguely disordered eating habits, and I can just picture Alastor having some uh, feelings about if his dear Reader wasn't eating properly. Like, this is a Louisiana man from the deep south who's probably grown up on all kinds of soul food and delicious but soooo unhealthy meals where the focus is really more on if it fills your tummy and tastes good, so like... imagine he's been dining with you and getting closer to you and he pops in on you one day, "hey hon, what's for lunch today?" in his typical joking self and you're just like, "oh actually I'm on a diet so I'm fasting right now :)". Pandemonium.

Like literally, Alastor is deriving so much comfort and entertainment from your food and getting to spend time with you and even just chat with you while you cook even of he isn't hungry, and one day he hears your stomach growl and he asks you when you ate last and "oh I had a breakfast sandwich yesterday morning" and you act like that's totally normal that you're standing there borderline salivating from hunger and he can HEAR your tummy growling and you're just "oh my gosh I'm so happy I've been losing so much weight! This new diet is really working for me ^^"

- honestly I keep thinking of. Alastor with a BBW or just plus sized person in general and he loves how big and soft and cuddly you are and you bake all kinds of delicious treats and snacks to spoil him with and he gives you hugs like he did with Mimzy so you can really SQUEEZE his lanky scarecrow ass up against your plush body, BUT I also see him in this scenario personally detesting when you start dieting, because in this scenario you're basically becoming kind of orthorexic, fasting, limiting what foods you eat and how much, eating foods with very little caloric value in high amounts. He can't share meals with you anymore. You don't cook the foods he likes anymore. You're becoming obsessed with diet and exercise but you're not even consuming the right combination of nutrients to properly and healthily lose weight and build muscle so you're just, slowly becoming weaker and more malnourished like LITERALLY becoming significantly more unhealthy trying to diet than what you were doing before

I just picture it gets to the point where Alastor literally forces you to eat. I'm talking you're bound in a chair, he's sitting across from you, and there's a hearty meaty bowl of stew in his hands as he raises a spoonful up to your mouth. You're crying and whimpering over how this will make you gain weight and being forced to take bites and, something about this meat tastes a little unusual as Alastor starts talking about, "lovely ladies such as yourself need more iron in their diet to stay healthy"

- I know I keep thinking of Alastor cannibalism ideas in a horror context but I've also thought about Reader CONSENSUALLY engaging in cannibalism. Like. Alastor comes to visit you one day and he can tell something has happened to you. It's all over your face: dour expression, dead eyes, low voice, just more withdrawn. You're cooking some kind of meat in a way he would consider almost experimental, as if you're not used to preparing this dish before, dont know how to season or flavor it. I think he would be able to tell by the smell what it is but I like to picture he's in peaceful ignorance until you quietly set down a plate in front of him and one for yourself as you take a seat with him and you just, quietly glance from him and the food and start talking,

"I, uh... was drinking with a friend of mine, a male friend... JUST a friend, and, I, I thought he was really nice, and, funny, and, I caught him trying to put something in my drink, so," and you look up at Alastor after you finish chewing a bite,

"Does he taste overcooked to you?"

And Alastor just gets this BIG smile, ears twitching happily, so thrilled for multiple multiple reasons, "oh hon, he tastes DIVINE, you really outdid yourself❤️❤️❤️"

- I will say though an idea I keep coming back to actually involves Rosie! You've been cooking with Alastor for weeks and, one day he shows up with company! I think it would actually be quite flattering at first: Alastor brought a friend to eat with you? And she's like, an important person? So... you're friends then? He likes you enough to bring his buddies around and introduce you? And of course, Rosie is an absolute delight, loves your cooking, loves your jokes, adores you, tries to chatter and pry all kinds of juicy details and gossip out of you, just a friendly chatty Cathy

Unbeknownst to you, some of the meat Alastor occasionally provides has been different types of Sinner Demons and one day Rosie comes to stop by where you're staying and, you're absolutely hysterical, in a rage, and Rosie has to ask Alastor, "oh, what's wrong? What's with all the tears, hon?"

"She doesn't like eating Hector."

"But she LOVES eating Hector! She loves how all his cartilage and fat cooks down!"

"She :) may or may not have been aware she was eating Hector"

"ALASTOR >:("

But Rosie is also too attached with you at this point so, you know, they'll ""apologize"" for not informing you you've been eating like entire fucking people, but, they're not uh, they're not gonna stop coming around. Like can you picture they come to visit you days later like it's nothing and you don't come to the door and they "invite themselves in" (alastor may or may not have copied your key, not that he needs to but it's more formal than using his magic to break in) and your fridge and pantry have been completely cleared out of every single ingredient and cooked meal, like you couldn't trust a single fucking thing, not even the bouillon cubes, and they find all your lovingly cooked meals that the two cannibals loved to eat with you, rotting in a garbage can outside. Not that they're gonna dig shit out of the trash or anything but like imagine them BEING ANNOYED that you've wasted perfectly good food. Not just your money, but, sweetie, all your hard work :'(

- also, final one. Circling back to the "you cook in your hotel room but sometimes Lucifer serves group meals" idea, imagine Alastor eventually really does something to piss you off and, he's coming to join you for dinner and there's already other people there, the whole Hotel actually, INCLUDING Lucifer. And I just. Oooo I picture the jealousy, like EXTREME JEALOUSY where you're turning and asking Lucifer how to do certain things and teach you and you just seem so much more COMFORTABLE around the tiny devil over the cannibal and Alastor is grinding his teeth while you're talking, "Alastor doesn't like tea so, I guess you and I get to have all this sweet tea I made for ourselves" and Lucifer just, "oh gosh, I'd never pass up on something YOU made. I've been having a lot of fun teaching you stuff and cooking more! You could even call us," *looks DIRECTLY at Alastor* "best friends >:)"

ALASTOR GRINDING HIS TEETH TO DUST, stalking up to the two of you, twisting and snapping his neck to tower over Lucifer, "may I SPEAK with you PRIVATELY for a moment" and Lucifer just, "uhhhhhh, no? I'm helping her finish food for everyone" and then the little fallen angel turns his head towards you, "oh no, don't cut that like that, you might hurt yourself!" And he slides up next to you on a stool or uses his wings and, he's MUCH touchier than Alastor so the stag is like VISIBLY UPSET as Lucifer gently puts his own hands over yours, "here, place your fingers like this and cut in this motion--" AND WHAT'S THE WORST IS YOU DON'T SEEM TO MIND LUCIFER TOUCHING YOU, like. Alastor is about to start full blown tantruming on a room full of people. Charlie is inviting him to come and sit down while Husker knows the Radio Demon well enough to see he's about to pop a blood vessel and prompt excuses himself from the room to avoid what will surely become a physical altercation

God forbid, Lucifer says some shit like, "you know, your cooking reminds me a lot like my third wife's" and you're just "oh, you got married a third time???" And here's the Devil, SHAMELESSLY "oh, not yet ;)"

Yeah, I'd say a pretty big fight would break out after that

[meowzfordayz]

NSFW Alphabet — Shinazugawa Sanemi

Author’s Note: technically didn’t finish this, but enjoy nonetheless. 😅 As w/ all headcanons, these are simply my opinions in this exact moment of writing, and are subject to change depending on the context/my mood! 😉

NSFW Alphabet — Shinazugawa Sanemi

Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader

Word Count: ~1,100

CW: 18+NSFW, explicit language, Fem!Reader, spit

MILESTONE 20.0

~faqs~

Aftercare? what they’re like after sex

Sanemi is sooo stern about aftercare, to the extent that sometimes aftercare feels not so caring. 😆 #soft dom vibes It doesn’t matter how exhausted you are; he’s coaxing you into a bath (or shower 🚿 ), watching you eat a full meal (full meal = at least one glass of water and a lil snick snack 😋), and making you brush your teeth. He’ll absolutely carry you from one location to the next, tenderly wash and pat dry your body, spoon feed you if you pout hard enough, and massage you to sleep 😴, but he’s not letting you pass out smelling of sex. 😒 “Dehydration is serious, my love, and I know you came at least once.” <— You definitely came more than once. 😌

Dirty Talk?

Sanemi’s generally quiet during sex—he’d rather listen to your pretty sounds than himself talking—but sometimes the most lewd things slip out from his mind to your ears. “Fuck yes baby, you like spreading your asscheeks while I fuck you, hm? Makes you feel extra exposed? Greedy? Bet you can feel how wet you are, what a mess you’re making.” He actually prefers when you talk to him, but not necessarily about sex. “What do we need to buy at the grocery store?” he asks nonchalantly, fixated on the sight of his cock inching its way into your pussy, slipping out and then farther in, becoming shinier and stickier with slick as his thrusts move deeper into your heat. “Seri-ously?” you huff, fingernails digging into his arms, unable to catch his gaze as he continues staring at his cock, “We n-need, we need eggs, milk, b-bread-” “I’m sure you’d like to be bread,” Sanemi interjects, voice tight with restraint, “Shit you’re so fucking gorgeous.” “You did not just-” “Shh darling, surely we need more than eggs, milk, and bread?”

Goofy? their sense of humor

Sanemi doesn’t like to be silly during sex, but it tends to just kinda happen anyway. 😅 Pinning you against the wall, one warm hand wrapped loosely around your neck, a muscular thigh nudging its way between your trembling legs? “Uh, Nemi,” you squeak, breath hitching as he nips at your collarbone, “I think I hit my tailbone-” “Seriously?” he grumbles into your skin, other arm slinking around your back to provide extra padding between your back and the wall. “Yes seriously,” you whine, eyes squeezing shut as he licks a hot path from the hollow of your throat up to the tip of your chin. “Shaddup,” he mutters, nose scrunching, “Gonna make me laugh.” “So my pain is funny to you?!” Groaning, he cracks a smile, exasperation expression meeting your petulant one as he shakes his head, “‘Course not, but I thought you liked when I shoved you into walls ‘nd stuff.” “Well yeah, but not when it hurts!” “Relax darling,” he purrs, sucking lightly on your cheek, grinning when you pout, “I’ve got you.” 😒😌😏

Hair? pubes maintenance

Unsurprisingly tidy. Sanemi has a weekly shave + trim schedule (for both his face and pubes). He’ll occasionally skip a week if you insist (sometimes a lil scruff is endearing ☺️), but he feels better knowing things are neat and maintained (for you and himself). Plus, since his hair’s so light, you might think there’s not a lot going on, but it actually grows quite fast 😅, and Sanemi absolutely notices when he starts shedding everywhere (even if you don’t).

No? turn offs

Sanemi would be hard pressed to be physically rough with you, but he’d also be hard pressed to disappoint you. He is capable and willing to explore more dangerous kinks—he doesn’t half ass anything—but best believe you’ll be negotiating and scripting scenes for days before he’s actually comfortable playing. “You really want me to spit on you?” he asks again, voice round with obvious concern, “If you don’t like it, then I can’t exactly take it back.” Your cheeks warm at his tone, eyes gentle as you meet his hesitant gaze, “We can always keep a cloth on standby. If I don’t like it, then you can simply wipe it off.” “That doesn’t address the potential psychological damage.” “Nemi, for me this is like… trying a new vegetable. There’s risk, sure. I might forever remember how much I hate zucchini, and how much it sucked to find that out. But I tried, and that’s what matters most to me.” “Your safety matters most to me,” he retorts, reaching across the dining table for your hand. Your fingers intertwine. You squeeze reassuringly. He cracks a faint smile, sighing lowly as he finally acquiesces, “Fine.” Grinning brightly, you lean in, cleavage visible as your breasts press into the tabletop, whispering conspiratorially, “Besides, I thought you liked claiming me as your slut? This is just another way to do so.” Eyes widening, Sanemi coughs loudly, face quickly reddening, unable to resist glancing at your tits as he mutters roughly, “I mean, yeah. I do. Of course I do.”

Toys?

Sanemi loves the idea of toys, but they’re So fucking expensive, the hell?!, so you don’t (co)own too many. That being said, he’s game to utilize whatever toys you had prior to meeting him. 😎 Rest assured he’ll pull out the vibrator (always fully charged 😉) when his hands get tired (this man became ambidextrous for the sole purpose of being able to personally pleasure you for double the amount of time 🤯), his pace barely faltering as he toggles through the settings to find your favorite, thick cock twitching in your cunt when a warm gush of slick makes his movements even smoother. “Hm, is my cock not enough for you?” he murmurs teasingly, holding the vibrator steady and unforgiving against the hood of your clit, fucking the breath from your lungs with a satisfied smirk. You manage a loud whine in response, legs trembling while your back arches, hips greedily chasing the overwhelming sensation of your looming orgasm. “So beautiful,” Sanemi rasps, drinking in the sight of your scrunched face, your little gasps accompanying each of his punctuated thrusts, “So. Fucking. Gorgeous.”

[aetherdoesthings]

Can we get the strawhats with a reader who's kinda creepy? Like poping up out of nowhere, obsessed with dangerous creatures, blanked faced, macabre interest, stuff like that. I kinda want to see how they react to that. Like, would they get used to it, or is it a jumpscare every time? Would they be used to it and new ppl aren't? I wanna see your interpretation, honestly.

I'm becoming a mortician, and ppl tell me that I have those traits a lot, lol.

lowk describing me in my day to day life lmao

forethoughts: i have returned to my roots and have wrote something about one piece again :D. i'm gonna be quite busy for the next week, so won't upload as much. i'll try and squeeze some in here and there though!

notes: gn!reader

Old Straw Hats (Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji)

The Old Straw Hats have somewhat gotten used to your ‘creepy’ attributes.

One time when Luffy was trying to share a spooky ghost story with the crew at night, you’d barge into his story midway through, appearing behind him and whispering ‘boo’.

Yeah none of the crew slept last night.

Luffy finds you funny though. It’s like a game of tag to him. If he could spot you before you’d scare him, he wins. If you’d make him scream, you’d win some Berry from him.

Zoro in the beginning jumped whenever you’d suddenly approach him and talk to him, but now he’s just used to your sudden appearances and morbid queries about death and everything spooky.

If you’re a boy, Sanji would yell at you and scold you everytime you randomly showed up and asked him if he’s ever cooked with human meat and if he was willing to experiment. If you’re a girl, Sanji would stifle a scream, and then offer to cook you a meal or snack, giving him the chance to keep an eye on you so you would at least stop disappearing and reappearing at the worst possible moments.

You had become Usopp’s bane of existence the moment you joined the Straw Hats. No matter how many times Usopp claims to be the strongest and bravest pirate ever, just one ‘hey’ was enough to send him packing. He eventually got used to you jumpscaring him, but he still shakes in his boots and has to take a minute to recuperate himself before continuing what he was doing before you approached him.

I’d imagine Nami would see you the way she sees Robin, so she does not pay much mind to you. Sometimes she’d even give you Berry to scare the living soul out of the other boys if they got too rowdy. Nami was the only one you’d be comfortable with sitting down and talking to, since everyone else was always screaming at your unannounced and unexpected presence or at each other.

New Straw Hats (Chopper, Robin)

Chopper was freaked out by your presence in the beginning, finding it creepy how you could show up out of nowhere and no one noticed. But over time, he started to see you differently and respected the strange amount of medical knowledge you possessed and how you could probably operate on someone with your eyes closed. Chopper still screams every time you pop up, but he had to admit you two made a good medical team when it came to trying to resuscitate Luffy after the billionth time.

You and Robin complimented each other and were definitely the closest. You two would always scare the living soul out of any Straw Hat member who dared to trifle with you. Robin would always have the answers to your morbid questions and vice versa. You two would spend your time in the library researching the most weird and out of the world topics. Robin shared the same fascination with dangerous creatures, macabre interests, anything you liked she had already studied. All in all, the two of you were an unstoppable morbid duo, and you both knew it. The moment Robin walked on board the Sunny you KNEW you two were going to be pals.

[yoon-kooks]

playtime & punishment | jjk

⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader

⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au, this specific chapter is pwp

⛓️summary: You decide to push Jeon Jungkook's buttons until he snaps and puts you in your place like the little slut you are.

⛓️word count: 2k+

⛓️warnings: catdilf!jungkook, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, daddy kink, good girl kink, nudes, hickeys, oc is a lil horny brat, jk puts her in her place, degradation, "slut" is used a lot, boobie squeezes, begging, she wants his cock so bad🥵, masturbation, oral nerd fantasy, fingering, edging, orgasm denial

⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️

⛓️a/n: this is the dirtiest p&p drabble yet🥴 can be enjoyed without reading the previous drabbles!

It’s another one of those long days where Jungkook has class all day, and you’re sitting around his place doing homework while keeping an eye on his mischievous kitten. The only reason you’re not procrastinating on your assignments is that your hot nerd friend refuses to let you near his tattooed cock until all of your school stuff is done. Thankfully, today’s homework is simple enough to finish before he gets home.

After submitting your last assignment of the day, you stretch your arms out and check the time. Jungkook should be on his way home in about half an hour, so that gives you plenty of time to soak in a nice bubble bath. You may or may not have been dying to send him some naughty nudes to look at while he’s in class. And a bubble bath is the perfect backdrop for your steamy photoshoot.

Once the tub is all set up with a sea of cotton candy bubbles, you slide your body in and make sure every part of it is nice and wet. If Jungkook wasn’t going to be back soon, you’d be tempted to slip your fingers down between your legs. But you might as well wait a little bit longer for him since it’s been a minute (aka less than 48 hours) since the last time the two of you had sex.

Just as you’re about to snap a pic of your naked body, a notification pops up from Jungkook.

dilf🥴 [4:32PM] “Can you feed Lucy her dinner?”

dilf🥴 [4:32PM] “I have an interview after class”

He must be talking about an interview for that fancy tech job he mentioned a few days ago. If he gets an offer, he’ll be all set and working full-time after graduating this summer. You, on the other hand…

You’d rather not think about it. You were given the opportunity to turn your last internship into a whole-ass career as a software engineer, but it just didn’t work out. The internship was great, the job would’ve been great, but your would-be boss apparently only wanted you on his team because you’re pretty and not because you’d earned it. That was the big rumor floating around throughout the last week of your internship. And that’s why you declined the offer for what would’ve been your dream job.

You just hope Jungkook doesn’t have to deal with any bullshit like that. Probably not.

Y/N🍒 [4:33PM] “ah yes lucys eating good tonight😌🤝🐱”

Y/N🍒 [4:34PM] “good luck with your interview✨”

Then you send him a pic of you with your wet boobs squeezed together between your arms “for extra good luck.” Not that the nerd needs luck to land any job he wants.

dilf🥴 [4:39PM] “👁️👄👁️”

dilf🥴 [4:39PM] “Y/N”

Y/N🍒 [4:39PM] “yes daddy?🥺”

You snicker at your phone screen. Is it bad that you hope he passes his interview with the biggest boner bulging out of his pants? If he’s mad about it, he can punish you when he gets home. Perhaps he’ll slap his hard cock against your cheeks or shove it down your throat. You won’t complain. You like it rough like that.

dilf🥴 [4:40PM] “It’ll be hard to focus on the interview after seeing that”

dilf🥴 [4:41PM] “Wait until I get home”

Y/N🍒 [4:41PM] “👼”

He’s so silly if he thinks you’re actually waiting until he gets home. You were willing to wait until his class ended, but all bets were off when he said he’d be home even later thanks to the interview. 

As soon as you climb out of the tub, you feed the kitten her gourmet meal, hop on the boy’s bed, and pull your sweatpants down to your thighs. 

Your fingers waste no time in making their way into your panties. You wish Jungkook were around to pleasure you himself or at least watch, but that doesn’t mean the boy isn’t contributing here.

The mere thought of him gets you so wet. Ever since you slept with him the first time, you can’t stop thinking about him. Like, he’s not only someone you click so well with but also the one your body craves 24/7. 

Oh what you’d do to have his cock inside you, his tongue on you, and his nerdy ass here with you right now.

You kick your sweatpants and panties off, slowly massaging your clit and imagining it’s Jungkook eating you out. Like his tongue is lapping you up and making you all hot and bothered in an endless cycle. You’d never really craved to be on the receiving end of oral sex until Jungkook had gone down on you the first time. He’d hooked you in for life with a single flick of his tongue.

Your fingers obviously can’t compare to the real deal, but you’re still thoroughly enjoying your little oral nerd fantasy. Plus, you love the idea of sneaking around and doing something naughty on his bed while he’s gone. Especially when he told you to wait for him. 

You can’t always be a good little girl for daddy.

As you continue to pleasure yourself, the post-bath warmth and lazy pace lull you to a sleepy state even before you’ve had a chance to orgasm. The least you can do is wait for your boy friend to join in before hitting your high.

It’ll be worth the wait.

You feel your eyelids getting heavier as your fingers slow down. Before you know it, you’re out.

“Someone’s been naughty.” A low voice wakes you from your nap as the boy’s weight sinks into the mattress beside you.

Your eyes flutter open to Jungkook unbuttoning his dress shirt. What a great view to wake up to. His gaze, however, is locked onto your fingers resting on your clit with your legs spread open on his bed like such a little slut.

Knowing he’s watching, your fingers start to move again. You’re still quite wet despite the long nap break. You must’ve dreamt of him tying you up and torturing your body for hours with his fat cock. That’ll keep you wet for weeks.

“My bad, I got impatient and couldn’t wait,” you say, swirling your fingers against your slippery center. You’re not sorry at all. “Bad girls need to be punished, don’t they?” You suck the coating off your fingers one at a time.

“Wouldn’t that just be giving you exactly what you want?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Don’t sluts love to be degraded and put in their place?”

You nod, wanting nothing more than to be manhandled and used as his little plaything.

“Sure you can handle the punishment?” He tosses his shirt and glasses aside but leaves his trousers on. Ah fuck. He knows how badly you want your holes to be filled with his cock, so he’s not giving it to you. That’s your punishment. Despite how torturous it sounds, your submissive little head nods again.

With a sinister chuckle, he gets behind you, tears your tank top off your body, and leans your bare back against his hard chest. You can feel his erection digging into your ass through his pants. Great.

His hands slide around and grab your breasts, squeezing them together and making your nipples all perky. You let out a squeak like a stuffed dog toy with each squeeze.

“You’re so weak to my touch, you know that?” he whispers into your ear. “It’s kind of pathetic.”

“Mm,” you squeak again. He’s right. You really do love it when he degrades you like that.

With one hand still on your boobs, he pulls your head back and angles it to give him full access to your neck. His lips find the most sensitive spots on your neck and suck each one until you’re covered in his marks. You’re definitely going to need to wear a turtleneck for the next few days.

You try to turn around to get his mouth on yours, even for just a second to taste him, but he pulls back and shakes his head. “Bad girls have to earn that back.”

Jeon Jungkook is evil. The worst, even. You’ve never been denied a kiss in your entire life. And he knows you’ll do anything for a taste, anything for touch, anything for more pleasure. You love it.

“Jungkook, please, anything,” you beg softly, pulling his hand toward your wet center. But instead of getting straight to it, he grabs both of your wrists and holds them together behind your back. Apparently, he doesn’t approve of the way you tried directing him to your core. He’s the one deciding your punishment here. Not you.

“Brats like you need to learn to be patient,” he hums against your neck. “Will you wait for me this time, baby?”

You’ll say it again. Jeon Jungkook is the worst. You’d rebelled against him and got caught touching yourself earlier out of impatience, and now he’s gonna make you wait even longer for any sort of pleasure or release? Just to teach you a lesson and punish you for your actions? He’s the definition of torture. No other guy has ever challenged you the way he does. But that’s why you’ve stuck around with him these past few months.

“Yes, daddy,” you whimper. Your horny little body will wait as long as he makes you.

“Good girl.” Still holding your wrists captive with one hand, he slips two fingers between your legs. He’s moving slower than your fingers earlier. “And you’re not going to cum until I say so. Understood?”

“Yes, daddy.”

He rewards your submissive behavior with a quick flick over your clit. The sudden jolt of pleasure snaps you into a pathetically horny state. Your body starts squirming on its own for more stimulation. Your brain shuts off. Your mind melts into pleasure.

For a while, all you can hear is your moans and the slick sounds of his fingers rubbing against you, pumping in and out of you. So wet and helpless. So close, and yet, your body knows it can’t orgasm until daddy says so.

“Are you close?” he asks. You hate how calm he is compared to the horny mess he’s made of you.

You nod. “Cum… please…”

“Not yet, baby,” he warns, digging his fingers deep inside you and hitting you where it feels best. Meanwhile, his thumb toys with your swollen clit, rubbing circles around it and bringing you so close to your breaking point. “Keep edging for me.”

You need to cum. You need it so badly. You bite your lip and squirm around to fight off the wave of pleasure waiting to wash over you. The need for a release is at an all-time high, but Jeon Jungkook’s hold on you is stronger. Because you know it’d feel so much more satisfying to be rewarded by him with an orgasm after waiting so long like a good little slut. You just have to be patient.

He lets go of your limp wrists, knowing you’re too lost in the pleasure to move your own fingers. You like his better anyway. His now free hand takes over your pussy, while he holds up his other fingers to your face. They’re perfectly glazed by your lust.

On instinct, your mouth opens with your tongue out. You’ve already accepted you aren’t getting his cock today, so his long veiny fingers will have to be the consolation prize. He kindly allows you to wrap your lips around his fingers and cleanse them of your milky glaze.

While you suck on him, he rubs you faster, adding more pressure to your clit all swelled up with pleasure. You let out a violent stream of muffled moans as if you’d actually orgasmed. If he doesn’t let you cum soon, you’ll go mad.

“Do you want to cum now?” He pulls his fingers out for you to answer.

“Yes… daddy…” you whimper between gasps. Your body aches in anticipation. Finally.

“Have you learned your lesson today?” He uses that stern dilf tone you love so much. “Will you be a good girl from now on?”

“Yes, daddy.” Nope. As soon as you’re done here, you’re not against being a brat and doing it all over again. Because when you really think about it, this “punishment” comes with what you know will be the most intense and rewarding orgasm of your life. That’s why you’ve endured the torture for so long. And that’s why you’re eager for plenty more in the future.

“Good,” he slips his fingers out of your pussy and gets up from behind you. Looks like you’re getting cock after all. It really does pay off to be a good girl.

But then he hands you your tank top that he’d flung across the room. And your panties and sweatpants. Still in a bit of a horny haze, you sit there and blink at the boy. He needs to hurry his ass back over to you and tend to your poor clit. It’s so swollen and aching for that release.

Then he looks back at you with a big fat smirk. “Oh, did you think I’d let you cum today, baby?”

Seeing how your little brain still isn’t comprehending his words, he helps you back into your clothes and lays your body down next to him on the bed. “Wouldn’t be much of a punishment if I let you cum, would it?” he chuckles as reality sinks in for you. You immediately pout.

“You were supposed to shove your cock down my throat and let me cum,” you mumble, wiggling yourself closer to him. “That’s what a punishment is, Jungcock.”

“Hey,” he frowns at your petty nickname for him when you’re sexually frustrated. “You’re the one who asked to be punished. I was down for the usual.”

He’s right. You really did bring this upon yourself. And honestly, despite the lack of an orgasm and cock, you can’t deny that Jungkook still managed to make it amazing. Plus, the longer you go without hitting your high, the better it’ll feel once you finally do. So you’ll just have to accept your fate and wait another day.

“By the way, how’d the interview go?” You try not to stare at the bulge in his nice trousers. After the hell he just put you through, you really do hope your bathtub pic forced a huge boner on him during his interview.

“They gave me an offer, so I took it,” he says nonchalantly. You know he’s downplaying it after you’d told him about how awful your first job offer had gone. He doesn’t need to, though. It’s something he earned and worked hard for. The two of you should celebrate.

“Oh yeah?” You smile and give him a peck on his lips as you roll on top of him. “We should have new job sex.”

He lets you finally get a taste of his tongue before rolling you back beside him. “Nice try.”

You frown but steal another kiss from him. “You’re really mean, you know that?”

“You’ll thank me later,” he promises. “I’ll make it worth the wait.”

[monayen]

I love the madness going on here but it feels like we’re on a slippery slope with this milk stuff 💀

BUT hear me out… this lends itself so well to a cow person reader. the anime kind with cow print bikini, a headband with small horns and a bell around the neck. iykwim 👀

(pologies’ if you don’t like lactation kink in this saga… mama has to feed those hungry ratmen somehow !! to make it clear, no babies are involved in my writing unless it’s a parent/babysitting/au situation. when i’m talking about the ratmen breastfeeding, it’s just magically something the reader can do and the ratmen love it. alrighty !?)

I think the dynamics of a cow person reader and other characters is something I’d like to think about more… But we’ve been talking about the ratmen so I will focus on them here ^0^

The ratman are terrified when they first lay their eyes on you. You basically dwarf them, since a cow person would definitely be bigger in height and not just in *cough* certain areas… so they jump to the conclusion that you’ll try kill them like everyone else

After they learn you won’t kill them, they stare. If you got that classic anime cow person look (bikini and all), they practically wouldn’t be able to wrap their heads around why someone would walk around showing so much skin… let alone a bell around their neck that jingles with every movement

Not that they complain about the outfit… it *flatters* you very well. It can just be awkward at how many times you have to remind them that your eyes are up here! Robert, Ratman 4, and Ratman 5 are basically shameless… but at least Micheal and Ratman 3 will have the decency to do a nervous dart around the room before they lock eyes onto your barely covered chest

They ask a lot of questions. Will your horns grow longer? How often do you shine your pretty bell? Are you cold in that outfit? ‘Cus your nipples are hard!

You definitely make the mistake of revealing too much of your… capabilities. What do you mean you can make your own drink? Is it like beer? Or more a soda? Whatever it is, they definitely are eager to try some

They’ll pester you about it every single day, following you around and asking when can they try some of your drink. It’s enough that you don’t get a lone chance to actually let go of the milk inside you, discomfort quickly settling in

You finally cave in when the pain of the buildup becomes too much, standing over the ratman as you untie the knot of your bikini top, dropping it to the floor as you present your aching chest

They absolutely waste no time scampering to get a taste, their heads pushing together to lick and suck up whatever leaks out of you

Robert picks up that squeezing helps get more milk out, gesturing for Ratman 4 to help knead the soft skin on your chest. Ratman 3 catches the strays, licking up the small trails of milk that manage to drip down onto your navel, while Micheal and 5 take turns fighting over a nipple… teeth are involved and you aren’t the only one that gets bit!

Trust that they’ll never let you get backed up again now that you’re their favorite meal<3

[izzabela]

i beg thee… more cod stuff.. specifically kyle gaz garrick hitting it from the back.. or the front.. or the side..

PLEASE WOMEAS EOKEAS ELEMA SE PLEASE

Acrobat - Gaz x f!reader

in which Gaz is quite flexible

a/n: i was so convinced lewis hamilton was his CGI face...

ship[s]: kyle "gaz" garrick x fem!reader

warning(s): MDNI- graphic descriptions of sex, mirror fucking, spanking, little dirty talk, multiple positions, semi-aerial fucking, bondage, fluff in the beginning, oh gaz...

You really wish you could shut up sometimes.

Birds chirp the loudest in the morning, but where nature seeks reprimand with apex predators and hunters, your punishment is a man named Kyle fucking Garrick.

"You've quite the bend, soldier," you teased him that morning. "Back's killin' me now..."

And when Gaz replied with a sickeningly sweet "I can help"? You should've realized you stepped in a bear trap.

It started with the yoga lessons. He brought you to the studio he frequents whenever on a day off or leave, a pretty nice studio on the busy streets of London. It wasn't all that bad either, especially with how slow Gaz was going with you.

Despite him being in the hardest difficulty of this yoga studio, he took the time to join the beginner classes with you. He made sure to push your limits when he saw you were about to master a skill, or he helped you out with some poses with kind, yet firm, pointers and demonstration.

And when you didn't have time to go out? He was your personal yoga instructor.

Back arched beyond human flexibility, Gaz kisses the tip of his head to your cervix, bruising it over and over again with how deep he's punching in. Between the perverted slapping of his thighs on the fat of your bum, to the little hiccups of your broken sobs, and the hoarse moaning from your pretty little beak... it was music to Kyle's ears.

"Aw, bird," he coos as he squeezes the supple fat of your ass, "Downward doggy shouldn't be so hard to do..."

You felt like a dumb dog, falling victim to a trappers cruel antics. You couldn't respond to him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the rhythmic pounding of his hips into your ass made you drool and moan for more.

"Got me a dumb mutt..." he spanks your ass again, and again, and again.

And you couldn't be mad at him, because the yoga lessons were really helping! If you had a pretty pence for every time you felt the aches of night time acrobatics leave, you'd be a fucking millionaire. But flexibility lessons didn't stop there.

Gaz took you to a silks studio next. A graduate from the basics of flexibility and mobility, you were moving on to the next parts of Gaz's torture.

It's hard for you to imagine a man to do silks, it's even harder when a man of Gaz's stature and history does silks. Then again, Gaz has always been somewhat lean compared to his comrades. Yes, he still has meaty and round bulbed flesh he calls "muscles", but he was rather lean, a little smaller, and moved a little quicker than the others.

When seeing Gaz lift himself effortlessly on the fabric, wrapping himself up in different patterns and movements, falling- practically floating- gracefully from the ceiling to the ground- you wanted to be that man.

Unfortunately, it would take a lot more for you to be at his level. For now, you stuck with twirls, core-stimulating moves, and full-body poses using all of the fabric. And just like the yoga studio, Gaz would always help you out.

Even at home! Gaz sets up a mirror, takes out his silks from the closet, and unhooks the hanging light from the hook in the ceiling (since when was that there?). Making sure the rope is tight up top, you begin to practice your moves learned from the studio.

Although, "practice" should've had fine print with Gaz. The minute you get into position in the silks, belly facing up, you're stuck (fucking wonderful). Spread like a flayed fish (or a Michelin-starred meal), Gaz takes this opportunity to rip your leggings off, one hand on your back while the other gripping your ass.

You're trying to wriggle out of the silks, but a quick pinch and the vibrations of his "tsk tsk tsk", you're stuck for real. Reluctantly accepting (embracing, he'd argue), Gaz lapped your juices up like a starving animal. Ravished on your folds, digging his tongue inside of you while he moves his hand from your arse to your clit. Pinching, lightly pulling, rubbing- the sensation from his talented tongue and his fingers made you cum not once... not twice...

three times before he gently caught you from the air. Carrying you to the bed to be cleaned up by him and the same hands that made you peak so many times.

And as much as you wanted to be angry with him, the knots that disappeared from your back told you to sit down.

You stopped talking back when Gaz took you to a pilates class. There's no shock anymore, just pure and unbridled confusion watching Gaz not break a damn sweat while on that whole... thingy-majigger... in the most uncomfortable positions.

You try your damn-dest too, but you haven't been in a gym proper since grade school- and since when did these gyms have these fancy workout machines?

Still, Gaz helps you out like the rotten peach he is. Holding your hands when you're visibly shaking on the platform. Hand pressed on the small of your back as his other hand is resting on your tummy.

And speaking of your tummy, Gaz is pressing on the lower part of your belly as he pistons right in your gummy walls. So tight and wet, and the fact you're squeezing with his mating press is making him go insane.

While his hand is there, the other holds your leg up and out, like one of those pilates poses. Though, you're on the bed- still, it doesn't take away from the stimulation of your cunt being abused, and your core burning from holding position.

"K-kyl- Ga-" you stutter the multiple identities this man has, and he chuckles at your indecisiveness.

"Hold fo' a bi' longer..." he grits out, hips slamming into your tight cunt as your core twists and you climax. Doesn't matter though, not when Gaz hasn't reached his limit.

"A bi' longer dove... c'mon, fo' me," he tries to hide the slight falter in his voice, but it's no use as you squeezes again (despite the overstim of your cunt).

After this, you don't whine or complain since the aches have disappeared completely. He really is an acrobat, flexible fucker.

And as all great acrobats do, they can't go without practice- and thank goodness you're up to the task now.

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guys i just had the fattest meal and i'm about to clock out for the night (i live in the US)

see yall in the next fic!