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holybibly · 3 months

Text

Pretty Flushed | MATZ x Reader | Part I

Genre: smut, hybrids!Au

Word Count: 10.6k

Summary: Debts must always be repaid, even if they are not your own, and you will learn this cruel lesson from your own bitter sweet experience.

Or where innocent bunnies are the most delicious dessert for the big bad wolf

Part II

WARNING: Unprotected sex, Mommy/Alpha! Seonghwa, Daddy/Alpha! Hongjoong, Omega/Bunny! Reader, оral knotting, stomach bulge, vaginal knotting, breeding, fingering, choking, degrading, pet names, spit kink, size kink, face fucking, hair pulling, manhandling, threesomes, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, dacryphilia, oral, cum eating, overstimulation and more.

Tag list: @jeolmeunday @meowmeeps @wayzatiny @stolasisyourparent @iweirdthingsblog @staytinyville @yoonivjpg @spooo00oky @kibs-and-bits @yunnieo @avantalem @dreamingofyeo @uuviey @mxnsxngie @bahngchatsfx @yeosang-dot-mp3 @zzz-zzs @yeos-bunny @seonghwasstar @fvlvy @bunnyluvr25 @watermelon2319 @weedforthoughtz @teez-the-time @bakarilennox @atinyreads @bluesungshine @kihyuns-military-wife @seventhcallisto @maximofftrash @0325tiny @edusweah @haven-cove @nhari @sanhwalvr @hecateslittlewitchling @icecold2baby @readerofallthingss @appleschre @wannabebarbiesworld @kpopmonstur @ohflorah @yoongiigolden @unxverxse @kuromiiy @cherryynoir @mitchikeli @atinism @minaizum1 @st4rhwa @kayleigh-28 @onedumbho3 @imthetempter @soobiverse

A/N: I hadn't planned to split this into two parts, but I'm not good at writing anything under 25k, so Part 1 is here today.This universe will evolve, and there are a few more works to come. I'm kind of obsessed with them. Sorry, but I'm on my knees in front of men in furs, and I'm not ashamed of it at all. I hope you all look forward to Part 2 as much as I did.

All comments and reblogs are very much appreciated and are a great motivation for me. Feel free to ask me anything; questions and private messages are open.

The whole tag list will also be relevant for the second part. I may add 10-15 more people to the second part tag, so if you want to be tagged, please leave a comment under this post.

divider by @cafekitsune

Have fun, bunnies; the heat is on.

Ever since you were born, your mother has always said to you, "Good bunnies should be submissive and grateful; they shouldn't cause any problems," and you have always followed her words with an exceptional level of obedience.

Responsive, soft, and gentle, you were the perfect embodiment of all the best qualities of your breed. You were the best bunny in the litter, something you were undoubtedly proud of and always justified with your perfect behaviour.

You were so tender, affectionate, and charming—the absolute image of a good girl. Always helpful, understanding, and ready to help in any situation. Despite the mocking nickname "Goody Two Shoes" given to you by the other bunnies on the farm, you were happy to be who you were.

"Good bunnies are obedient bunnies" was the simple truth of your entire life.

You bowed your head and bared your neck in respect, went to church on Sundays, helped breastfeed the younger bunnies in the nursery, studied hard, and, of course, had a clean and pure reputation.

It's not that you didn't have a clue what sex was. You'd gotten your fair share of heats, but unfortunately, you were too shy and indecisive to get laid with someone. You spent all of your heats in the company of a cute little glass dildo and a silver plug that was adorned with a shiny pink stone.

The obscene thoughts and pornographic images that filled your mind at the time always made you feel extremely ashamed. But what could you do when you were literally born to be a beautiful sex toy? It was a rather humiliating fact for your species, but all rabbits were something of a slut for a big fat cock. Their primitive reproductive instincts were stronger than any sense of decency they had.

From your point of view, this was the one and only blemish on your otherwise "saintly" image. A black mark on your spotless reputation. Your small guilty pleasure.

In everything else, you followed strict rules and remained a naive, obedient girl.

At the moment, the situation in which you found yourself was a traumatic one for your fragile, isolated mind, to say the least. On top of that, your heat was coming on relentlessly, and the growing excitement tingling beneath the surface of your skin was making it a hundred times worse. All the more so when it was being fuelled by the heavy, seductive pheromones emanating from the man sitting in front of you.

In all the time you'd been in this room, you hadn't even dared to look at him.

Torn between the deep-seated prey instinct that urges you to run and hide and the forbidden dark desire to submit to the dominant species, your mind goes haywire, causing almost physical pain.

It was a choice between fuck and death, and you were stuck in the middle. If you dared to turn your back on him, he wouldn't hesitate to rip your throat out with his teeth or rape you right there on the fluffy carpet, rough and animalistic.

In spite of the very real danger, the nymphomaniac half of your brain was happily imagining how nice it would be to feel the soft pile of the carpet against your skin as you were put on all fours and fucked senseless.

Embarrassing as it was to admit, bunnies weren't the smartest of creatures, more concerned with mating and satisfying an insatiable sex drive than anything else. Sometimes they lacked intelligence and common sense in situations where it was needed, and this was one of those times. So it was not surprising that you thought more about the carpet under your feet and the cock between your legs than the real and obvious threat to your fragile life.

All air and glass, too brittle and soft for this world; you were easily broken.

"Haven't they taught you any manners, pretty thing? Stop staring at the floor. I'll never believe he's more attractive than me, so lift your head up, bunny, and let me have a good look at your sweet face." The voice was deep and rich, with a kind of chocolate smoothness that glided over your skin like a forbidden caress.

The sensation was so clear and vivid that a pleasant warmth spread over your entire body with a gentle blush, and a tingling sensation began to tingle palpably in your lower abdomen.

You almost start to whimper in response, but you manage to suppress the humiliating sound deep in your throat and bite the inside of your cheek in pain.

His presence is so strong and commanding, so suffocating, that it feels like the whole world has frozen at his feet. The sensation burns you to the bone, and a primal, little-used instinct signals the impending danger, sending an icy shiver down the length of your spine.

The bunny's submissive nature can't help but react to such blatant dominance, and your body responds by sending out signals of submission, causing you to tilt your head slightly to the side to show him your gently exposed neck.

Your long ears flutter weakly at the sound of a velvety purr escaping the man's lips, and you let the muscles that are taut as silk ribbons relax a little, knowing he's accepted your gesture of submission.

"A good bunny is an obedient bunny," so as soon as the dynamic between you is cleared, you immediately follow the command he gave you earlier.

"I... I don't... Excuse me, sir." You stammer as you awkwardly try to formulate the right words and finally raise your head to look at the gorgeous man in front of you with the glassy stare of big, wide, open eyes.

"There you are, my cuddly little bunny. Such good manners, my pet. I wonder if you are always such a docile sugar thing, obediently following all instructions." He chuckles slightly, the mockery of it clearly audible in the soft sound. "Do you like what you see?" As if inviting a kiss, the tip of his pointed tongue flicks sensually across his voluptuous, plump lips. There is a flash of something in his seductive, languid gaze. A sense of knowledge. Feeling of power. Every move and every word were deliberate.

This was the beginning of the game between predator and prey. He seduced her only to tear her to pieces once she was in his clawed hands.

No one asked questions on your farm; you were always told what to do and how to answer. So his question, to put it mildly, has you confused, and you don't know what to say to him, or rather, what answer he expects from you.

The man before you is magnificent. The majestic face is like that of a fierce beast of prey and an angel of death rolled into one. Warmth surged to your face at the mere sight of him and sank to the depths of your soul in the same moment. What could you say? Are you the most beautiful thing I've ever seen? Even that wouldn't have been enough.

A pair of pointed ears could be seen between silky black curls that twitched with interest at every sound. Silver fur that felt so soft to the touch. Not as soft as your own, perhaps, but that did not diminish the desire to be touched in any way. The same silver shimmered in the lazy movements of his thick tail.

He was half-reclining in a large leather chair, as if he were sitting on a royal throne. His long legs were spread wide and covered in a pair of designer jeans that drew attention to his crotch. The outline of a large, thick cock was clearly visible through the fabric.

At the mere sight of him, lust spills deep into your loins. The sweet voice of approaching heat sings happily in your head, "The perfect mate, just what you need. He'll destroy you, satiate you, and tie you up with his big fat knot." These thoughts were so sickening, but that's what you get for being a bunny.

You had to shake them off. Good girls don't think about dicks. Especially when their lives are literally on the brink of death.

Tattoo lines ran down the length of his slender neck. There was a small scar where the mating bite had taken place. His skin was uneven and swollen in places. It was as if teeth had sunk into him several times in a row, overlapping the bites.

But there was one detail in the whole of his stunning appearance that made your eyes widen in fear, and the space between his thighs filled with the liquid honey of desire.

Wool in all shades of brown and sand, harmoniously woven into a massive, voluminous fur coat. It didn't take a genius to figure out who he was, and your pheromone-fogged brain would only belatedly realise that you were in serious trouble. There was only one species that could afford to wear fur in such a provocative and shameless manner.

A wolf. And an Alpha at that.

The ultimate predator. He was cunning, stealthy, and tantalising when he wanted to be.

The moment of realisation hits you like a lightning bolt. A nervous shiver runs down your spine, and your hands start to shake as you crumple up the hem of your white skirt. You look a little ridiculous in your pretty white outfit—all frills and lace. It was your idea of a sweet outfit. But it looks naively childish, almost silly, compared to the Alpha's luxurious furs and designer clothes.

He's clearly amused by your nervousness. The corners of his luscious, perfectly sculpted lips curve into a mocking, devilish smile. The sharp tips of his fangs are revealed, and your pulse races.

You've heard many stories from other bunnies about how tempting predators can be to natural prey like you, like moths seduced by flames and such. But how could you, such a gentle and sweet girl, be attracted to this alpha standing before you?

The way you squeezed your thighs together clearly showed how excited you were. The Alpha sniffs at this and then laughs deeply and darkly.

"Ah, you obviously like what you see, don't you, little slut? It turns out the rumours were true; all bunnies are such whores for dick. I was under the impression that we had an innocent creature on our hands here. Mmm, that's a shame, sweetheart."

You open your mouth to object, but all you hear is a soft whimper that makes him laugh even harder. The sound practically vibrates against your heated skin, a deep shade of burgundy spilling over your chubby cheeks in a humiliating blush.

And yet, you're a very stupid bunny.

"I want to see more of that slutty nature, but we'll get back to that later, sweetheart. Now tell me, do you know what you're doing here, Fluffy?" You squirm under the intensity of his gaze. His eyes are dark and so predatory. There's a hunger in them that's hard to hide, and it makes your heart beat so fast that you can feel every beat in your ribs, and your legs start to tremble harder than ever, but underneath all that fear, there's something else.

The tugging feeling of arousal in your lower abdomen grows stronger by the second, drops of viscous mucus moisten the silky folds of your pussy, and your panties suddenly become very uncomfortable, clinging uncomfortably to your crotch.

A new wave of sweet, tempting pheromones fills the room, smothering you with delicious sweetness, responding to your actions. Your head begins to spin, a numb sensation of excitement crawling out from under your skin and spreading throughout your body until it spills over your chubby cheeks in a bright red blush.

It was too twisted for your fragile mind, and you were furious at the terror and bliss hidden beneath it, but the attraction was too strong to deny. But for silly, sweet bunnies, it was the world's biggest mistake to feel and react like that. You're supposed to be this calm and brave bunny, not trembling with lust under that hypnotic black gaze. And you certainly shouldn't have found this wolf to be so attractive and so sexy.

But some part of you had already surrendered to him before you were even aware of it, and your body seemed to be unable to overcome the perverse attraction you were feeling.

You tried to convince yourself that it was all about the deep-seated instinct to procreate—the very natural rabbit instinct and the impending heat—but that would be self-destructive.

Good girls always end up with the big bad guy's dick in their mouth. And that wolf was big and mean. The fear of his sharp teeth sinking into your neck practically melted away at the thought of him tying you in a knot and fuck you so good you'd forget your name.

"Я... I don't know, sir. I'm a good bunny. I'm very obedient. Please believe me..." Your mind is a mess; you can't form coherent thoughts, and you speak in scrappy phrases that make no sense.

Your eyes start to water, and a lump forms in your throat, making it hard to breathe. It's like a sudden temper hysteria, as if all of your senses have been rebooted at once and you can't make up your mind how to react at the moment. Something inside of you snap, like a self-defence mechanism that has just been activated, and crystal tears will begin to flow down your face.

Here you are, a cute little bunny in a wolf's lair, left to be eaten by a big, bad wolf.

You finally realise that all this is happening in a wolf's den, where you are completely helpless and vulnerable to the danger represented by the handsome man sitting in front of you. The most important thing is that you have absolutely no idea why you have been brought here. The head of your farm has asked you to ride with him, and of course you have obediently agreed; you would never dare to refuse; it would be so disrespectful and rude, as your mother has always told you....

Oh my God, Mum! Did she know where you were? She must be worried. Isn't she?

Your heart is pounding in your chest, fear is coursing through your veins, and hot tears are stinging your eyes. Your left heel hits the ground a few times in a convulsive manner. The panicked sound is drowned out by the softness of the carpet—the same carpet that pleased you just a few minutes ago.

The wolf's eyes grew hungrier, lust blazing in them like a golden flame, and he licked his lips sensuously. The moan he lets out is nothing less than pure porn, and you shudder. Whether it's from sheer terror or from excitement, you can't tell.

His long tongue traced the outline of his full lips once more, and you understood the meaning of what he was doing.

He's tasting your fear. Oh, fuck.

It was no secret that all wolves were a little sexually perverted; they always found the display of primal fear extremely arousing and had a tendency towards dacryphilia.

One day, one of the bunny girls from your farm spent her mating season with one of the wolves from a neighbouring clan. She came back looking as if she'd been abused for years—bites, wounds, bruises, and hickeys—but her blissful sighs and her belly, swollen from all the sperm she'd received, said she had no regrets about choosing a mate.

For a bunny like you, sex with a wolf was like flirting with death. He'd tear you to pieces, and you'd be grateful. If you survived, of course.

Yet there was something deeply erotic about being at the mercy of this ferocious, godlike creature; helpless and defenceless against his cruel touch, his fierce stare, and his razor-sharp fangs.

You're almost feverish. Your cheeks are beginning to burn from the shameful excitement building up between your legs, your lower lip is quivering with barely suppressed sobs, and your palms are sweating from the hot, lingering, perverse sense of temptation that is bubbling under your skin like scalding water. It's so deadly and dangerous that it's almost blissfully pleasurable.

Cotton tail twitches nervously, and your long ears flatten against your head, the whole body trying to curl up into a ball in the hope of escaping that greedy gaze.

In the wolf's eyes, you become even more appetising—such a sweet little thing for his taste. He smiles sweetly at you—as sweet as a wolf's smile can be. This sudden change in his demeanour makes you swallow noisily the viscous saliva that has gathered in your mouth. The smile on those beautiful lips is so much softer, gentler, and almost motherly, and your body unconsciously relaxes, fooled by the feigned kindness.

Stupid, stupid bunny.

"Didn't they tell you, my sweet little bunny?" His voice is a wicked, velvety purr. Your fluffy cotton tail twitches nervously, as if warning you of impending danger, and you squeak weakly. "You're completely empty-headed, sweetheart."

Almost lazily, Alpha brings the glass of amber-coloured whisky to his lips and takes a small sip from it. His tongue is slowly rolling the liquid in his mouth; it is poking at his cheek in a vulgar way that is too obvious to be an accident. It's a deliberate move. The glass is set on the table with a soft clink, the echo of which is matched by your heel hitting the floor.

When he speaks again, his lips are wet, glistening with drops of alcohol, and you realise with a sense of humiliation that your silk panties are getting much wetter.

"My name is Seonghwa and I am the Alpha Leader of this house. Your farm owes me a debt of gratitude, my little one. I've been patient enough to wait for a while, but you bunnies are such damned greedy things, always wanting to take and expecting to get away with it just because of your pretty face. But you don't. It's time to pay your bills, and you're my sweet girl; you're going to pay me back everything your farm owes me. That's what you're here for." Seonghwa tilted his head sideways, almost childishly, and added mockingly. "Do you understand me, pretty thing, or do I have to repeat it to you again so that your tiny brain can understand it?"

He is blatantly humiliating you and openly mocking, knowing full well that rabbits are a little on the small side mentally and sometimes have a hard time taking in information correctly at first go.

You let out a half-whine, half-squeal, and shake your head negatively. Your fluffy blonde curls fall over your flushed face and stick uncomfortably to the thick candy-pink gloss on your lips. Right now, you look absolutely nothing like the well-behaved bunny you are.

"That… that's not true… Please don't do this to me, my farm; we are very good bunnies. Seong…sir, I am a good girl, the best bunny in the litter, and I have never taken anything from anyone." You respond with a soft whimper that turns into a loud sob.

You're a pretty pathetic sight to behold, but that only seems to turn him all the more.

Seonghwa places a dainty palm on the inside of his thigh, too high for propriety, and you shiver at the sound of his dark laughter. This action is a subtle, almost primitive, act of dominance. It is designed to draw attention to his large, hard cock hidden beneath the fabric of his jeans. His knot must be huge.

Your mouth fills with saliva at the thought and you swallow loudly, fluffy tail quivering and flicking slightly in response to his behaviour. Thoughts of what it would be like to be tied up by an alpha, for once in your life, make your breath catch in your throat. Apart from the gossip you've heard from the other bunnies, you're not even aware of it. You are wondering what it will feel like when the Alpha is tying you up with his knot and stretching your pussy wide open around it.

It's something that's on the edge of your sanity, and you're both scared and eager to rub your face on his cock, drooling all over it like a proper slut.

All of your nerves are stretched to the breaking point, and your mind is consumed by a fog of hormones and a mixture of terror. Your skin melts from the sensory overload, and your body begins to prepare itself for the fact that this man is about to ruin your life. You are almost desperate for what is about to happen.

His aura grows heavier, and finally, for the first time all night, you get a whiff of him. It's thick, enveloping, and evil—the smell of bitter almonds with notes of whisky, black cherry, and something else. Your nose twitched as you tried to catch the subtle note, and when you did, you sobbed loudly. There was a faint, subtle scent of blood emanating from it, a scent common to all predators.

In a reflexive response, you try to put as much distance as possible between yourself and the predator by taking small steps backwards. Somewhere in your chest, a feeling of panic is building up, and you can hear your heart beating frantically, pumping blood.

Even through the fog of excitement, your brain is responding to the real danger, telling you to back away, and you obediently follow its advice before your back hits something that's both hard and incredibly soft at the same time. As your trembling fingers sink into the luxuriously thick fur, the feeling of terror returns with redoubled force.

Somebody else was here.

Seonghwa growls, his eyes rolling back as he throws his head back. His mouth opens in noisy, deep breaths, as if he were choking to death, and the sweet pheromones fill the room even more than before. His thick tail flicks behind his back like a whip, and his body shakes a little, overflowing with the energy and lust he has suppressed. Your fear is like sweet ambrosia on his tongue, and he craves more; he wants to hear your scream, your hot tears, your terror, and your excitement pouring out of your tiny cunt.

Oh, baby, he's going to tear you to hell.

His hand squeezes his cock hard under the fabric of his jeans a couple of times, causing him to let out a passionate moan. It's a deep, animal sound, full of dangerous warnings.

And there's nothing but hunger in his eyes when he looks at you again. Seonghwa looks like he wants to rape you until you're numb, to fuck you to death, and to fill you to the brim until your belly swells with all the cum he's going to pour into you. And there's so much of it—somuch that it'll be pouring out of you for hours.

You whimper, every nerve in your body vibrating and tingling, and you try to take another step back, but the hard body behind you won't budge an inch.

"Oh, Fluffy, are you leaving us already? I just came to play." His voice was soft and a little feminine, and you could hear a barely concealed evil chuckle in it. He purred in your ear in a sensual way, and a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around you in a tight embrace. Painfully digging into your soft curves were fingers adorned with massive silver rings. The man behind you mooed with satisfaction as he squeezed you even tighter into his arms. "Mmm… what a pretty pet we have here, Seonghwa. A tiny, sweet doll, how lucky we are to have you, huh? Such a silly, innocent little bunny in a den of big wolves". Soft fur wraps around you like a blanket as his cold, sharp nose burrows deep into the curve of your neck. Taking a deep breath, the wolf runs his nose along the pulsating scent gland. He must really like the smell, because you can feel the slight vibration of his growling against your skin. "You smell good - so delicious, fluffy - like peaches and cream. Makes me want to eat you alive." The man chuckles, playfully clicking his teeth against your neck as the slippery liquid moistens your thighs.

"As always on time, Hongjoong." Seonghwa remarks with an irritated tone.

"Don't be so greedy, Hwa. The scent of her excitement wafts through the house like an invitation." The Alpha behind you continues to fiddle with your throat. He runs his nose over your skin almost lazily, as if he has all the time in the world. "You can literally feel her taste on your tongue; you should have a look at Mingi and Yunho right now." He chuckles again and weakly bites the skin of your neck. You tremble all over in his arms, your fear heightened by the mention of other wolves, but with it comes a shameful sense of arousal, and you're clearly aware of how much is dripping from you. The thick, clear liquid is dripping down your legs and soaking into the fabric of your shoes.

Your heart flutters as they speak of you so casually, as if you are nothing more than a thing, a shiny new toy that has caught their attention. It's a knowledge that is simultaneously exhilarating and frightening.

So you try to speak to them again, to ask them to let you go to the farm, but all your words fall on deaf ears.

"Please..." Your voice sounds rather pathetic, more like a plea for their dicks than for a safe return to the farm. "I don't... I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a good, obedient bunny, and I owe nothing to anyone. You've got to be mistaken." You stammered, sobbing, turning your full attention back to the black-haired Alpha, belatedly noticing how faintly the blood-red frame of his bottomless black irises glimmered. "Let me go home, please. My mom is worried."

"Do you think we should let the bunny go, Hwa? She's so courteous, and she's got mum worrying about her." The Alpha behind you, Hongjoon, brings his hand up to stroke the velour base of your ears, and you make a small squeal as his fingers touch the sensitive spot.

"Aren't you just the most adorable pet, Princess? Don't worry, you've got another mommy to look after you now."

As Hongjoong rubbed the soft base of your ear harder, all rational awareness left you completely. Your ears have always been your erogenous zone, and you never let anyone touch them. You stifled a long, whimpering moan when your large front teeth dug painfully into your lower lip. You had to cross your knees to relieve the throbbing between your legs. But that only made more slick run down your legs.

Alpha presses his hips against your plump arse, and you can clearly feel the sheer size of his cock; it's hard, massive, almost palpably hot, even through the fabric, and despite the numbing excitement and lust of your impending heat, you realise that you'll never be able to fit something so thick and large inside you.

You let out a loud squeal at the thought and immediately covered your mouth with the palm of your hand, but it was of no use at all. Through the veil of tears, you can see Seonghwa's fluffy tail swaying upwards, interested in the sound, and Hongjoong letting out a long, languorous moan into your skin.

Wolves and their twisted, lustful minds.

All of it is driving them mad, making their cocks throb painfully in their trousers, and releasing even more of their pheromones. Your crystal-sweet tears on your cheeks, flushed with humiliation and desire; the terror frozen in your wide open eyes; that vulnerable, helpless look; and of course, the thick, creamy scent of your slime.

"My innocent bunny, hasn't anyone told you that there are many bad people in this world?" Seonghwa says with an exaggerated tenderness that makes his plump lips pucker up cutely. Every word that he says is a pure sneer at you, wrapped up in the velvety purr of his deep voice.

"Hwa, it's too hard for our sweet little pet; she's got air in her head." Hongjoong chuckling tauntingly again, and you notice, not without horror, that the distance between you and Seonghwa has shrunk to the extent that you are standing between his spread legs, the toes of your pretty pink satin shoes touching the hem of his luxurious fur coat. Hongjoong's actions were so distracting that you didn't even notice that he was bringing you closer to the main Alpha. Wrapped in a haze of seductive pheromones and lust, your head was indeed empty and light.

A sweet, empty-headed bunny. Such a perfect toy to be used for their amusement.

All Seonghwa has to do is reach out to stroke the soft silk of your thighs, and judging by the way his gaze slides to the edge of your skirt, which frankly left little to the imagination, and his nostrils flare as he inhales the creamy peach scent, the thought crosses his mind as well. And it would appear that he's not the only one.

Hongjoong's fingernails scratch the thin skin on the inside of your thigh like delicate, sharp claws, causing a stream of warm liquid to flow from your pussy. He growls contentedly as the sticky, sweet-smelling moisture remains on his fingertips.

"Is someone excited, fluffy?" His tongue is hot and wet, licking languidly over the swollen, scented gland, and your cunt clenches reflexively. Your face flares with humiliation. "You're such a dirty girl, my darling."

"I'm a good bunny." Slapping your heel against the floor, you protest weakly. Your lips curl into a cute pout by themselves, almost childish.

The scent of Alpha rises, and for the second time tonight, you lose your head at it—it's something so delicious, almost sinful, with notes of chocolate, rum, spice, and pink pepper. A sharp spark of excitement runs through your body, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Your knees buckle, and if Hongjoon wasn't literally holding you, you'd be lying on the floor at their feet. That's where you belong. Turning you to face him, he wraps his fingers around your chin.

Hongjoon's just as strikingly handsome as Seonghwa, but unlike the long-haired Alpha's sensually seductive features, this one has sharper, almost demonic ones.

A truly wolfish smile—all fangs and hunger—plays on his red lips. A pair of pointed white ears twitch interestedly at your attention, and his tail sways lazily behind his back. He's also dressed in furs, a toxic orange and scarlet, and you can't help but notice how perfectly they fit him. It's as bold as his owner.

"Come on, fluffy; don't cry; let daddy take care of that sweet face." In long, slow motion, he licks the tears from your cheeks. Something seems to be breaking inside him as the Alpha rolls his eyes and moans gutturally.

Afraid to even take a breath, you freeze completely in his arms. The excitement rushes through your vagina, and your pussy clenches desperately against nothing. Your big, wet eyes don't move from his face until he meets your gaze once more. A look so dark and predatory that it makes you want to cry even harder than before. Only you can't tell if you're afraid of him or if you want to continue to please him.

"Bunny…you're just asking for a knot, aren't you? All these tears… you're driving me crazy, my angel." His purr is sweet as sugar. His hot tongue licks away your tears as his lips press against your plump, wet cheeks. "Let me explain this to you, my darling. Your "wonderful" farm gave you away to pay off a debt. My fragile little girl, you belong to us now. Ours to play, ours to fuck, ours to breed."

"Hongjoong is absolutely right, princess. From this day on, you belong to us, my bunny. You are such a jewel for our house. Maybe we'll even let the younger wolves play with you a bit. They're a bit rough around the edges, but I promise they'll be on their best behaviour around a beautiful thing like you. If they bite you, they'll lick your tiny cunt to make up for it."

Your left heel taps the floor a few times, and you manage to make a low squeaking noise.

"I'm not an object." You didn't even know who you were trying to convince—you or them. Of course you were a thing in their hands, nothing more than a pretty cock sleeve, and the words Hongjoong and Seonghwa had said a moment before had accurately described your position in their house.

The black-haired Alpha rose from his seat and towered over you. Up close, he's not just beautiful; he's godlike. Instinctively, you arch your back and tilt your head back so that your eyes meet his. His gaze is so searing, so sharp, that you feel your skin burning underneath as you begin to wriggle and whimper in Hongjoong's tight grip, the two Alphas chuckling merrily.

"Aren't you?" He raises an eyebrow at you in a mocking manner. The corners of his lips curl up in a mischievous grin, just enough to reveal the tips of his pointed fangs. "So tell me, bunny, what shall I call you?"

"Y/N." Your voice is no more than a whisper to him. Seonghwa's ears twitch in your direction with interest, and Hongjoong's warm breath kisses the sensitive skin on the back of your neck. They heard you very well. But that doesn't stop them from addressing you with a certain harshness.

Seonghwa's hand runs gently through your hair before he grabs a handful and pulls it out sharply. You squeak shrilly, and the sound echoes with their laughter, velvety and mocking.

They are large, warm, and deadly, and you look tiny in the midst of them; the difference in your size is so obvious.

"Speak up, fluffy. I want to hear that pretty little voice of yours loud and clear."

In the meantime, Hongjoong's fingers are already pulling at your hair on the other side, without any ceremony at all. His claws scratch your scalp for a second, and the stinging prick sends a shiver down the length of your back.

"Be gentle, Hongjoong; you don't want to break it before its time, do you? The puppies will go mad if they can't get their teeth into the bunny." Seonghwa chuckles.

He tilts his face towards you to lick away your tears as he watches you squirm in his mate's arms with sadistic pleasure. You can't help but notice that Seonghwa's tongue is much longer than the other Alpha's, so attuned are you to their every action.

"Be a good girl and do as you're told. You don't want to disappoint mommy, do you, Fluffy?"

Be good. That's what you've always been told. Be obedient, because that's what the perfect little bunny should be, and you would never dare break that rule. It's literally tattooed on the subcortex of your brain. Standards of behaviour and obedience have been pounded into your pretty little head for years, and even if your instincts weren't to please your more dominant partner, prey, or predator, it doesn't matter; your obedience reflex would definitely be kicking in.

"Y/N." This time, you speak clearly and loudly as you are asked. "My name is Y/N."

"Y/N." Seonghwa pulls. As if tasting your name. "Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, it sounds so sweet, bunny. Mommy likes it." He grins broadly at you, showing his sharp teeth, and your cunt clenches shamefacedly in response, releasing another copious amount of mucus.

You make a soft sound, something between a squeak and a wheeze, your tail tucking in, your long ears drooping and flattening against your head.

"So what are we going to do with you, Y/N?" Hongjoong rolls your name over his tongue as if he's licking you between your legs, sounding almost pornographic. You want to hear it over and over again, any way you can.

"I don't know..." It's such a shame, but your instincts take over your mind, making you flow like a waterfall, dumbing yourself down for their pleasure.

"Mmm, my little angel, don't you know?" Hongjoong's lips touched the bowl of your ear, the tip of his tongue licking the soft skin and teasing your already shy nature. "Do you want daddy to spoil you, fluffy?" He purrs, making your cheeks burn shamefully, and you desperately shake your head to say yes, heated and embarrassed.

All rational thought becomes a blur, and your clouded mind focuses only on the growing sensation of the void between your legs and the puddle of liquid flowing from it.

"Please." Tears roll down your face, and your knees buckle as you shake violently and begin to go limp in the grip of the wolf. Seonghwa sucks aggressively at the skin of your swollen scent gland, leaving a mark of his right to you, a mark of his superiority. You're nothing more than a pretty fuck toy, the cutest sleeve for his cock, and the perfect bitch for him to breed with. "Ah-alpha, I beg you..."

"Look at her, Hwa, such a polite girl. Begging and pleading like a well-mannered pet. Shouldn't we have a reward for her?" He puts wet kisses on your throat. The sound of his purring voice sends signals straight to your quivering, warm pussy. "Don't you want the big, scary wolves to breed this small, narrow cunt?" You draw in a sharp breath as you feel Hongjoong's hand move down, squeezing the inside of your thigh and forcing your legs to spread apart.

As the palm of his hand cups your pussy in a possessive manner, you wheeze for air, and Hongjoong gasps slightly at the sensation of how wet you are. A shiver runs through your body as the Alpha slowly rubs his fingers along your folds through your silk panties, filling the room with a wet slurping sound as the fluid pours out. His fingers glide over your needy clit, trailing lightly as you fall deeper and deeper.

"My angel, daddy is going to make sure that this sweet pussy is always fed and filled with his warm cum." His fingers rub roughly over your throbbing clit, through your damp panties. They slide lower, pushing the panties lightly into your hole, mockingly watching your body jerk weakly. The touch stings, the sensitive edges of your hole tightening instinctively around his fingertips.

You want to spread your legs as wide as possible for the Alphas in front of you. To show how ready you are to be used, to be stuffed with their cocks, and, of course, to be tied with their big knots. To let their rough, long tongues hit the weakest places inside you, to let them eat you up all night long until you pass out from screaming their names and the number of orgasms you've had.

"Alpha..." You say, your hips arching shamelessly as you try to push Hongjoong's fingers as deep as possible. Your chubby butt swings from side to side in a motion that invites him in. Eliciting a hiss from him through clenched teeth, your soft buttocks rub against the large, firm bulge. "P-please spoil me... I-I'm begging-I need you, p-please, I need you so much..."At the moment, you're openly sobbing.

Seonghwa's long fingers are running along the side of your jaw, lifting your face as you stare into his mesmerised eyes, completely losing all sense of reason.

He's so close; the luxurious fur of his coat caresses your naked skin, burning where they touch. Their expensive furs envelop you, trapping you in a cage of hot bodies. The only thought in your head is the desire for them to spread you out on those furs and fuck until you can't stand it anymore, and even after. All you need is for them to stuff you full and knotting up your needy hole.

You're going to be a good girl for them—the best bunny they ever had.

"Shhh, don't cry; mommy will take care of you, my princess. Come to me." Seonghwa's voice seems to have dropped a few octaves, becoming more hoarse and hungrier than it was before. "Give me a taste of that sweet mouth."

Your face lifts obediently as he asks, and the next thing you know, his lips are burrowing into yours, burning painfully. Your eyes widen for a moment, and you are in a state of panic.

You weren't good at kissing. All those lazy, soft touches of lips you exchanged with some of the bunnies on the farm could hardly be called a full-fledged kiss, and they certainly didn't compare to the way Seonghwa devoured your mouth.

He pulls away from you for a moment as you squeal against his lips. While you're distracted by Seonghwa, Hongjoong slide the fabric of your panties to the side. His nimble fingers push the sticky, swollen folds apart and give you incredible pleasure. Cottontail twitches, your breath catching in your throat.

"Feeling good, sweetheart? Do you like the way daddy is stroking your needy cunt?"

"Yeshhh, it feels so good."

"Don't let yourself get distracted." Seonghwa digs her fingers into your skin and turns the touch into a painful grip. "Now mommy will teach you how to kiss properly. Open your mouth for me, darling." In obedience to his command, you open your mouth to find his lips attacking you with renewed force. As you unconsciously reach out to him and press harder against those plump, plush lips, the Alpha moans in approval. He sucks your lower lip between his sharp teeth before biting down hard on it, only to then stick out his tongue and run the rough appendage over your bruised lip in a soothing manner. An action that leaves you gasping and clutching the luxurious fur of his coat with your hands.

Seonghwa's long tongue slides between your teeth and presses against yours, licking your palate and pushing deep into your throat, literally licking your mouth from the inside out. His silky appendage moves sinfully, sliding and twirling in teasing motions that make you dizzy and your toes curl. You are intoxicated by the sweetness of the pheromones on his tongue, which enter your mouth with his saliva. Liquid desire builds up between your thighs. Viscous, transparent strands of your juices flow directly into the palm of Hongjoong's hand, down his wrist, and soak into the sleeve of his fur coat. The pain between your thighs is almost unbearable; your stomach twists and clenches, and you moan long and hard.

As his lips pull away from yours, thin strands of saliva hold your lips together before they break apart and fall to the side of your chin. The soft petals of his mouth slide down your face before he licks your lips, collecting saliva.

"Stick out your tongue, little slut." Hongjoong's subtle order echoes in your ears, and of course you do as you are told right away.

Your tongue is sticking out as you open your mouth as wide as possible. With glassy, tear-filled eyes, you watch as Seonghwa collects the saliva in his mouth and spits it out onto your waiting tongue. He purrs at the sight of a thick, viscous droplet rolling down your pink tongue.

"Swallow, darling." And you obliged.

"Aren't you the loveliest pet we've ever had? Such an obedient bunny for mommy." He leaned in again to kiss you almost innocently, which contradicted what he said next. "Now kiss Hongjoong and give him a taste of this fucking honey mouth before I spread you out on any available surface and stick my tongue so deep into your tight, wet cunt that you won't be able to live a day without it."

Your heel hits the floor a couple of times in a nervous manner, and Seonghwa runs his long fingers through your fluffy curls and turns your head in the direction of Hongjoong with all his might. His rings are clinging to your blonde strands, pulling them painfully as he moves, practically ripping them out of your head.

"There you are,, my angel; give daddy a kiss." He purses his lips sweetly and looks at you expectantly, the devil's delight and apparent derision dancing in his eyes. Oh, he is having so much fun watching you squirm.

"But, I... I thought that..." You babble confusedly.

"Don't be a disappointment to daddy, princess. You were told to kiss him." Seonghwa is pulling at your hair again, and it is hurting you.

In a clumsy attempt to repeat what Seonghwa had done to you, you tentatively reach for the other Alpha's lips. You stick out the tip of your tongue and lick weakly at the plump lower lip. Then you scrape at it with your big front teeth.

"Stupid bunny, do you even know how to do that?" Hongjoong laughs. Finally, he pulls his hand out from under your skirt and wraps it around your cheeks, his fingers digging painfully into the flesh as he does so. His fingers are wet and glistening with your own slime, and thick drops of it run down your cheeks where he is holding you.

Your velour ears twitch slightly as a whimper rises in your throat.

"You can't do anything on your own, can you, pretty? Of course, you don't. After all, you're just a cock sleeve; you have absolutely no intelligence. But daddy is going to teach you everything, sweetheart. Don't worry."

Hongjoong's kiss is as hungry and cruel as his humiliating words. His teeth are sharp, and his breath is intermittent and hot. You mindlessly submit to every insistent movement of his lips, letting him push his tongue into your supple mouth. Alpha kisses like he's hungry for it, deep and loud. Before you know it, you're moaning into his mouth and gripping the front of his gorgeous fur coat as if you'll slip away if you don't.

You've never been kissed like this before, and the sensation is like a current against your skin—painful, searing, traumatic, and shudderingly pleasurable—awakening something inside you you didn't know existed. Your insides are burning like fire, the desire blazing in your veins and roaring in your ears. All caution is long forgotten; you feel like you have a fever. Gasping through kissed lips, you look straight into Seonghwa's eyes as Hongjoong begins to kiss your slime-stained cheek and jaw.

Hwa is licking the top row of his fanged teeth and slowly rubbing his thumb over your swollen scent gland.

You whimper as Hongjoong presses his mouth to the other side of your neck again and again, worshipping the skin with his lips and tongue before finally nuzzling his face into the curve of your throat and inhaling noisily.

"Daddy..." It feels like you're drunk; your hormones are working so hard. Your hands come up to tangle in his auburn locks—so soft and silky—and you run your fingers through them as he plants long, lingering kisses on your throat and the curves of your breasts where the organza blouse allows.

"My sweet bunny, it's time for your reward." Seonghwa murmured somewhere deep in his throat with a soft grin. "Are you ready to take mommy's knot?" The word 'knot' made you whine even louder. Yes, yes, you want his knot. A thousand times yes.

"I want it; I want it badly, please." You beg, tugging at the collar of his fur coat.

"I'm sorry, what was that, fluffy?" Hongjoong's voice becomes very deep, yours in contrast sticking in your throat as he growls angrily: "I didn't hear you, angel..." Your breath caught in your throat again as his hand found its way under your skirt once more, his fingers pressing painfully against your throbbing clit, causing you to twitch and new tears to roll down your swollen cheeks.

"Please daddy, please mommy, knot me; I've been a very good girl."

"This is my little pet."

Hongjoong lets go of you, and his hands replace Seonghwa's as the tall Alpha turns you around in one sharp motion, pushing your body down. Your body practically falls into his large leather chair. He quickly throws your legs over the armrests; your short skirt scuffs up; and Seonghwa runs his fingertips over your wet panties, causing you to wriggle and squirm. Your legs are bent and spread, and you squeal softly as the Alpha kneels down in front of you, his luxurious fur spreading out on the floor all around him.

Hongjoong kneels beside you too, his fingers rubbing the base of your long ear. Your hands fly up to cover your face, flushed with embarrassment.

"Put them down now, bunny. I want to see you crumble under my tongue." Seonghwa growled, and you nodded in pure submission, slowly lowering your hands and breathing the words out of your lips before you could choke on them.

"Yes, mommy."

"Don't you think you have too many clothes on, Fluffy?" It's a question that doesn't have to have an answer and has a clear command at the end. "I want to see your boobs. Take your clothes off.

You obediently obey, despite how shaky your fingers are and how humiliated you must look right now—your legs spread wide, long strands of slime dripping from your knickers, forming a shiny puddle on the soft carpet, your cheeks red, and your mouth swollen and wet from being kissed.

Your tentative hands undo the buttons of your blouse, revealing your plump, heavy tits encased in a silk bra.

Once your blouse is completely undone, Hongjoong's insatiable mouth is immediately on your breasts, caressing them with hot, open-mouthed kisses. He squeezes your breasts together over your bra and lifts his eyes to you as you let out a shrill moan. You want to bring your legs together, whimpering and squirming in the uncomfortable position, but Seonghwa's broad palms hold your thighs painfully.

"They are very sensitive; please be gentle." You barely speak; the words are solid breaths and whimpers, your heart pounding in your chest as the top of your bra is pulled down, exposing your swollen, wet nipples to the two hungry Alphas.

The smell of milk fills the room with a new wave of pheromones, this time coming from both Seonghwa and Hongjoong.

A sharp, hot tongue slides over your nipple as Hongjoong stares at you through his half-closed eyelids. His mouth closes around the pink-candy flesh, the tip of his tongue slowly circling around it as he pulls back his cheeks and swallows the sweet liquid that pours into his mouth. Your other breast is lazily squeezed by Seonghwa's warm hand, making you tremble and whimper from the intense stimulation. It feels so good and new—not at all like feeding babies on a farm.

"Aren't you a complete delight, princess? Sweeter than sweet." More like a cat than a wolf, Seonghwa's tongue finds your other nipple and licks it slowly.

"I...Hm...I was helping to feed the little bunnies; we're short of helpers and nobody wants to, so I...oh..."

Hongjoong moans at the taste of it, and pulls away from your breasts for a moment to tear the strap of the bra with strength, tearing the thin silk fabric. Your tits are now completely exposed to them, the milk still gushing out and trickling down the length of your body. You are a dreadful mess, not at all like your normal tidy self. What would your mother say if she saw you now?

"Look at you, all flushed and ready for us, my angel".

At that moment, you felt Seonghwa bury his nose in your folds and take a deep breath. It sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine.

"Mommy, please…"

"You smell like peaches and cream, princess, I wonder if you taste the same." Seonghwa licks a long strip of the silk, his tongue hot and rough with saliva dripping from it, and God, it's too much for your innocent mind, but you can't tear your eyes away for more than a second.

Hongjoong takes your nipple in his mouth again, sucking hard, and you can feel the streams of mucus flowing freely from the folds of your wet vagina from all the stimulation you're experiencing.

Seonghwa lazily sucks on the silk partition between his mouth and your needy cunt. He makes soft sounds of approval as he licks and licks again, as if the taste of your mucus is something he desperately needs. Strong hands hold your hips still, even though you desperately want to try and close them around the handsome face of the dark-haired Alpha, to squeeze his tongue until you cum.

Your panties are pulled to the side so that Seonghwa can press his face against the warm, slippery folds and slowly begin to lick your labia. The pressure of the wet, open-mouthed kisses and the deceptively soft, caressing licks on your sweet skin are almost unbearable. A helpless sob comes from your throat as Seonghwa's tongue plunges into the heat of your sensitive hole, and you clench around it, trying to hold the sensation as long as possible.

Teeth slip out now and then, reaching out to the side of your vulva, teasing seductively, a sweet reminder that no matter how nice the Alpha is being to you, no matter how cute his fluffy tail is wagging, when he's eating your cunt, he's deadly. This simple fact makes your pussy throbbing with desire.

"That's right, bunny; let mommy enjoy your sweet cunt. I don't think I'll ever get enough of you; you really do taste like peaches and cream. Joong, you should have a taste of her; she's a real treat. Sweet, silly bunny." Seonghwa cooed and gave the thin strip of silk panties back to you, moving it so that it was between your labia. He pulls it a little tighter, causing that painful pressure on your swollen clit and friction between the sensitive folds. You feel a shuddering sensation, but the Alpha just laughs at it. "Don't be so greedy, fluffy, and say thank you. Otherwise, I won't let Joong play with you.".

Much to Seonghwa's delight, you react immediately and show obedience.

"Thanks mommy." A response that shows just how desperately you wanted to be tasted and gobbled up.

As soon as Seonghwa steps aside, Hongjoong is between your legs. You can finally enjoy the devilish beauty of this Alpha as his red-orange fur coat spreads across the carpet like a poisonous puddle. Hongjoong's face is unjustly handsome. It's stunningly framed by strands of soft brown hair; the red lips are insidiously parted in a broad but hungry wolfish grin; and the gaze is sharp and predatory. There is a dark, terrifying glint in it, like that of an animal that has found its perfect prey.

The prey instinct in you kicks in again, causing you to squirm and writhe, trying to close your thighs and squeeze yourself into a ball. Your hormones and your slutty bunny nature, on the other hand, want you to spread your legs even wider so that the Alpha can eat your pussy more comfortably.

"Is that all for me, angel?" He runs the palms of his hands down your trembling thighs, leaving long streaks of nails on your milky skin. Rude. "You look so sweet, blushing, and needy, like a feast ready for the wolf to eat, don't you, bunny?

"I...aah...I'm g-ready for you." It was hard to concentrate on the words as Seonghwa's hands started to squeeze your boobs again, causing even more milk to flow down your chest and body. Your pretty clothes were all ruined; what a shame.

"My good little bunny girl. Let's get rid of all the excess." Your knickers come off in one sharp motion, completely exposing your pink, oozing pussy to the two hungry wolves.

The new influx of sweet liquid oozing from the soft petal-like folds makes Hongjoong growl, his fangs showing, his gaze never leaving your wet, tantalising pussy for a second.

"Lick her already, Joong, or I swear I'll kick you out of here and keep her all to myself, or I'll let Wooyoung get to her first." Seonghwa's tail whips irritably behind his back like a whip, and he rolls his eyes at Hongjoong.

"If you let his pretty face bump into that pussy, you'll have to deal with a whole bunch of impatient puppies who can't keep their dicks in their trousers. Is that what you want, Hwa?" The auburn-haired alpha chuckles evilly and finally presses against your cunt, a dirty, open-mouthed kiss.

Tears of vague relief run down your face, and you feel Seonghwa's rough, long tongue on your cheeks again.

Your heel tried in vain to kick at the air, and your whole body shook with the fine tremors of Hongjoong's sharp, stinging kisses. Wet as syrup, the wolf's grinning lips cling to your hypersensitive, swollen clit and refuse to let go. Your back arched in an awkward position, and you pressed your pussy closer to his face, literally rubbing against him. His nose is pressed tightly against your wet mound, and his jaw works with every eating movement.

Your slick is everywhere—on his cheeks, his lips, his chin, dripping down his neck, and over the collar of his white t-shirt.

God, it's fucking dirty.

He is ruthless, the movements of his tongue wild, sloppy, and hungry as he digs greedily between your trembling thighs and dripping folds, sucking the sweet nectar of your excitement from the contracting orifice. Lips suck roughly at the edge of the swollen pink flesh, and your shamefully wet insides clench in a disappointing void. Clawed fingers dig painfully into the softness of your thighs, leaving blackened bruises.

A high-pitched squeal gets stuck in your throat as Hongjoong's thumbs force your tender labia apart and his tongue slides deeper. The sensation is almost heavenly. Streams of viscous mucus pour out of you like a waterfall into that beautiful, insatiable mouth, and your whole body shudders in short spasms. Your heel twitches desperately in the air, kicking in vain, and your ears fall back to your face, drooping and muffled with pleasure.

"Ahhhh... daddy."

Seonghwa's fingers wrap around your chin, squeezing painfully, and you lift your head so you're looking into his eyes.

"All your pleasure is mine. Only I will decide when to fuck you, who will fuck you, and how long it will last. When you cum, you will look at me and only me, no matter whose face or cock is in your cunt or tight arse. Do you understand, mommy, my sweet slut?"

Barely aware of all that is happening, you at least try to answer; your mouth opens, but the only sound you make is a long, drawn-out moan.

Apparently that wasn't the answer he wanted, because his other hand snakes down your body, slapping your clit with palpable force. Electric shocks shoot through your body, and you wriggle in the tight grip of the two Alphas, practically folded in half in the uncomfortable leather chair.

"Do you understand me, pet?"

"Yeah, yeah, I understand... I understand you, mommy." You shake your head like a doll to confirm this, and a new wave of sobbing sweeps over you.

Hongjoong pulls away from you for a second, his whole face soaked in your sweet slime, and his gaze is wild and unfocused, as if he's drunk.

"Fuck, I can never get enough of you, fluffy. Daddy's precious princess has the sweetest, most beautiful cunt in the whole world."

"Of course, Joong, that's our bunny." Hwa presses his fingers even harder into your face, the touch turning into a brutal grip. His fluffy tail swishes enthusiastically behind his back. The gaze of Seonghwa's bottomless, hypnotic eyes turns to Hongjoong. His sensual, kissable lips stretch into the exact same toothy smile as the Alpha between your thighs. "Do you want to make it even sweeter?"

It's only a moment before the palm of Seonghwa's hand slaps your swollen, mistreated clit once more. Your body ripples with sharp pain mixed with blissful pleasure. It's a wild mixture of sensations, resembling a combination of sweetness and sharpness.

"Try it, it's definitely better now." He laughed joyfully, like a child, looking down at you.

As soon as the burning sensation has subsided, Hongjoong's mouth locks onto your battered clit, mercilessly sucking and licking it with his hot tongue. He's so insatiable, possessively devouring his beautiful princess's exciting cunt, his face practically smothered in pussy. His hungry mouth is vicious, and his appetite is endless as he devours his selfishly greedy pleasure and demonic features soaked in the sugar nectar of your slime.

As the ferocity of his mouth grows—hungrier and hungrier—you try to pull away, too sensitive and overwhelmed, but a painful slap on your thigh stops all movement.

"And where are you going, fluffy? Daddy's not done playing with you."

Long fingers slide between your delicate creases, opening them wider for second Alpha. Hongjoong moans in appreciation as he gains more access to your quivering hole, swallowing the juices pouring from you with a loud grunt.

He chuckles in sadistic amusement, gazing up at you through impossibly long and thick eyelashes before his predatory wolf lips pull away from your clit to tell:

"Cum for daddy, bunny. Fill me with your cum."

It only takes a second for your body to obediently follow his command, and you come with a high-pitched moan. Huge jets of fluid are spurting out of your used pussy, forming a puddle of it under your arse and dripping down onto the floor.

Your glorious, twisted screams of agonised ecstasy and super-sensual sobs filling the room are music to the ears of these two Alphas.

Seonghwa bends his face over your cunt in order to prolong your orgasm and sucks all the juices out of you as if he were dying of thirst. The sound is utterly animalistic and disgusting, but it makes the fucking slime squirt even harder. Hongjoong's mouth keeps up, sucking mercilessly and lapping at the lush, honey-soaked folds.

The only sounds that come out of your dolly lips are the whimpers and hoarse moans of despair that are so beautiful to them. In the eyes of Seonghwa and Hongjoong, you look amazing - a gorgeous, broken thing, all flushed and obedient for their pleasure.

You should know what disgusting and perverse things they will do to you and how much they will ravage your innocent and fragile body. The party has just started.

These thoughts make their cocks throb and flow in pain, and the knot at the base of it swells up. Seonghwa and Hongjoong look at each other as they keep licking you methodically. Their tongues meet in long, sweeping strokes, caressing each other and mixing all your flavours together. You twitched weakly, half lying back in the chair, limp and exhausted from orgasming.

"Don't you dare fall asleep, honey. We were just at the beginning of our game."

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mladenpuljic · 2 years

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(via Bow drill master Cap by djomla88)

#findyourthing #redbubble #primitive firemaking #bow drill #bowdrill #ancient fire #cap #tshirt #stickers #feather stick #bushcraft skills #survival skills #mors kochanski #ray mears #firemaking skills

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ckret2 · 5 months

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A leaked list of some of the exciting upcoming content from The Book of Bill:

The pyramids of Giza ranked from most to least sexy.

Winning lottery numbers. He does not say which game they're for.

Three pages of Bill practicing blackletter calligraphy so that he can write the fancy-looking "The Book of Bill" on the cover. (Meant to tear those pages out before submitting book to publisher.)

A section where he implies that all your headcanons about him are stupid. Yes, your headcanons specifically. If you compare your copy of the book to a friend's, these sections will have different text. He insults all headcanons equally, even the ones that contradict each other.

A long, rambling story about a funny thing that he saw at a party in the Nightmare Realm, but he keeps getting distracted gossiping about the embarrassing love affairs and crimes against reality the partygoers have committed. Not a single one of these characters has ever been mentioned before or ever will be again. He gets so distracted he never finishes the original funny story. He was clearly drunk when he wrote this section.

A pet care sheet on how to keep a pet axolotl. All of the information is extremely wrong.

Some of the other dimensions he's tried and failed to conquer. He keeps insisting that all the failures were somebody else's fault. It's extremely obvious that they're his fault.

A photograph of a vivisected elephant, for some reason.

A phone number written on a cocktail napkin that Bill insists would be really funny for all the readers to prank call. It leads to the desk phone of the director of the CIA.

Bill claims he definitely totally knew that Stan was disguised as Ford the whole time, he only played along to trick the Pines back, and then he quickly changes the topic.

A page of Bill's original poetry. It's all unintelligible symbols. It will take 27 years for somebody to crack the code. They're all gory but juvenile limericks.

A cocktail recipe. It will kill you.

Bill's original version of the portal blueprints that he copied to give Ford, with Bill's handwritten annotations. One part of the blueprints is labeled "component that will accidentally destroy the universe. REMEMBER NOT TO INCLUDE THIS COMPONENT IN SIXER'S COPY!!" He underlined this twice. If this page is compared to the portal blueprints in Journal 3, it's clear that Bill included that component in Ford's copy.

A personality quiz to help you meet your ideal sleep paralysis demon.

Bill's baby pictures. He looks exactly the same, except his bow tie and top hat are too big.

Bill reveals that he thought the llama symbol on the zodiac wheel referred to that farmer guy on the edge of town, and he was super confused to see Pacifica there.

Multiple pages scattered through the book about Bill's amazing powers, his brilliant and fun plans for our dimension, and all the cool favors he's willing and able to do for his friends and followers. All these pages end with a passive-aggressive aside about how somebody would have to be REALLY stupid to turn down an invitation to join Bill's crew, Stanford Pines—

A page labeled "My loyal servants and slaves!" filled with several hideous, oozing, nightmare-inducing Lovecraftian monsters, and one Mickey Mouse.

A self-portrait depicting Bill riding a rocket ship playing an electric guitar while rainbow lightning flashes all around him and money rains down from the sky.

A cynical, sneering tirade about how love is evolution's idiotic way of tricking primitive species into reproducing and how only simple-minded mortals who can't separate their true thoughts from their hormones fall for it. In the margins he's drawn a heart around the words "Bill Cipher +" a scribbled-out blot. The blot is completely unreadable. Despite this, the fandom will spend years debating the name underneath based on the size of the blot.

Extremely stupid "explanations" about various unsolved mysteries and crimes. In six years the world will discover one of them is accidentally correct and Alex Hirsch will get investigated by the FBI.

The book will be divided into four sections. Each section will begin with a big illuminated letter. In order, the four illuminated letters spell "F" "U" "C" "K".

#gravity falls #bill cipher #the book of bill

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thestonedknifeman · 2 years

Text

Bundle bow introduction

A bundle bow is primarily for small game and or fishing. Constructed from saplings or shoots ranging from 3/8 to 1 in in diameter that are bundled together much in the same manner as a leaf spring for a car or truck.

Quite a ride range of materials can be used for this method of bow making from Spruce saplings to Willow shoots. For these posts I'll be using the local Creek Sage

#bushcraft #ways of survival #art of bushcraft #outdoorlife #outdoors #ways of old #knowledge is the best survival gear #primitive skills #bow making #primitive bow #art #my art

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artificial-transmutations · 10 months

Text

A new character

"I approach the king and bow, before I say: 'Greetings, most noble King Tanarath, first of your name. Allow me to introduce my friends and my humble self.'" Brian said enthusiastically.

There was a moment of silence on the table before Dylan, another of the players, groaned: "Dude..."

Brian blinked and readjusted his glasses. Dylan sighed and explained: "You're not playing your bard anymore. That is totally out of character for a barbarian! Look at your intelligence stat. There's no way your character would even be able to form sentences like that."

"Oh. Right." Brian said. It had been four sessions now since his bard had died at the hand of a wicked owlbear, and although he had been sad about it, Brian had really looked forward to playing something else, for a change.

So, he had created Briarok, his barbarian. While he absolutely loved his new character stat-wise, he sometimes had trouble of actually playing the huge, muscled and dumb-as-a-brick man.

"So, I guess, I just go: 'Yo, king! What's up?'?"

Brian could feel the cringe in the room. Why was it so difficult for him to get into character? Steven, the dungeon master rolled his eyes. "Uhm... okay, let's try this one more time. Before I continue the session, I'd like you to say something in character. You just need to get into it, Brian."

"Yes, Brian, you need to... become one... with... your... barbarian." Dylan mocked in a slow, hypnotic voice and laughed.

"Okay, I think I got this." Brian said. He thought about the character he had created. Brian had chosen the barbarian class because of the raw power and durability it provided. He wanted to be able to protect himself and his friends from harm. Besides, barbarians were just plain awesome. Brian also chose the name Briarok, because he thought it was a cool name.

However, getting into the primitive mindset was difficult for him, especially since he was used to play a bard with lots of charisma.

Brian rolled up his sleeves, took a deep breath and flexed his unimpressive muscles.

"Alright!" he said in a loud voice and nodded.

The other players looked at him with disbelief, before Dylan laughed again: "Okay, that was kind of cool. I give you a 7/10 for trying."

However, something weird had happened. Brian was the stereotypical nerd, with no muscles to speak of. However, when he just flexed, small mounds of muscle popped up on his arms. When he relaxed his arms, however, the bumps did not shrink away again, but stayed visible.

"What the..." he mumbled and rolled up his sleeves further, trying to get a better view.

He could see his own arm, and the small protrusions. It wasn't much, but it looked definitely different from before. Wanting to explore further, his eyes scanned the room before settling on the six pack of large soda bottles on the floor. Usually, he had his fair difficulties lifting the 12 kilograms worth of beverages, but right now, it was easier. It was still a notable weight, but somehow, it felt lighter than before. In fact, he longer he lifted it up, the lighter it felt.

"Hey, guys?" Brian asked, while still staring at the soda bottles.

"Yeah?" Steven replied.

"What's the heaviest thing in this room?"

"Uhm... I'm not sure." Steven mumbled.

"The sofa?" Dylan offered.

"Not sure, but it's pretty heavy."

"Yeah, probably."

Brian placed the large bottle down again and flexed his arms. Bi- and triceps were now clearly visible on them, and didn't disappear when he stopped flexing, like before. His arms weren't the only thing to change, Brian noticed as he went over to the sofa. His shirt clung to his back, as if it was several sizes too small for him and his pants felt constricting as well.

Brian bent down and grabbed the sofa. Were his hands bigger than before? He needed to know now. With a grunt, he started lifting. Very slowly at first, but then it became quicker and easier.

Brian should be confused and normally, his brain would have gone to overdrive, trying to process what was happening, but for some reason, Brian only felt... good about it! His thoughts were slower than usual, but he felt a good deal of pride. He managed to lift a sofa with ease! That was awesome! He bet nobody else in this room was able to do that. He was the strongest of them!

With the sofa safely on the ground, he turned around to look at his friends.

They were all staring at him, eyes wide. Brian couldn't remember having seen anyone looking that surprised. Dylan looked at him and slowly shook his head. "Dude. Did you just lift a sofa?"

"Yeah, I did!" Brian answered with a big smile.

Dylan's mouth opened a little further, and his eyes went wider.

"You're all... ripped and stuff." Dylan remarked.

"Yeah, it's awesome! But sorry guys, I have to get out of my shirt and pants now, they're way to small."

Brian began to fumble on his button fly with his large hands and needed several moments to get it open. The buttons almost flew through the room as he released them.

The reason for the enormous pressure was not only Brian's package. His hips had become considerably wider and stronger. His ass was pronounced and muscular and exerted its own pressure to the construct. However, even though it was not *only* Brian's package, it certainly also had a part: his entire crotch region had become bigger and more prominent. Brian's soft cock made a clear outline on his retro pants. Would it become hard, Brian was sure it would rip right through them.

Brian took his pants off and stood there in only his underwear. It was now tighter than ever and stuck to his body. He gave his friend a broad grin and tried to work on his shirt. That, however, proved to be way more difficult. By now his shirt looked like it was painted on him, showing the clear outline of impressive pectoral muscles and at least a six pack underneath.

"Damn, man! You're... hot!" Dylan said in awe while Brian was still trying to wiggle out of his shirt.

With a frustrated grunt and a gasp from his friends, Brian finally resolved the problem another way. He grabbed his collar with both of his strong hands, and with a bulge of his massive arms, he just ripped the clothing in two, from top to bottom. His undershirt went down the middle, along with the remnants of his destroyed button fly, as he held up the pieces in front of himself.

Victory! He just felt like shouting, so he roared loudly in triumph and threw the remnants of his clothes to the ground.

Grinning broadly, he grabbed his chair and pulled it away from the table before sitting down with his legs spread widely. Man-spreading like that and readjusting his large package shamelessly, Briarok rumbled loudly in his deep new voice:

"Alright! Where were we? I want to kill stuff!"

Dylan, Steven and the other friends had trouble to hide their erections from the display of raw power.

Steven gulped and continued: "Okay, so, after speaking to the king, you venture out into the cold mountains..."

I think I would enjoy playing with that dude afterwards! What do you think? If you want to see stories like this as soon as they appear, alongside exclusive content like the 15(!) picture candidates that did not make it into this story, be sure to subscribe to my riot page!

#male transformation #muscle transformation #dumbing down

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contentloadingandstuff · 4 months

Text

Bounty Of The Heart - Bounty Hunter!Male!Reader x Candace

A/N: This is a long one. Hope you enjoy! CW: Mild violence, moral ambiguity. Themes: Enemies to lovers.

They say Sumeru is a nation of wisdom. A peaceful people who, with their gentle Archon above them, pursue to examine the world and contain its secrets within tomes, fathomed by both human and divine mind.

They are wrong.

Mora and fame are the true pursuits of the men and women of Sumeru. Science is only a means of achieving wealth and status, different from sell-swording only by the lack of physical violence. Those who can navigate the maze of dusty tomes and old, bearded, complaining professors can achieve a high position and see eight figures on their monthly pay. But to reach this level, one must have determination and a patience of cold steel. And you? Had neither of those things when you were young.

You craved money, but also adventure. You just couldn't force yourself to sit down and study boring and mostly irrelevant information, only to pass a test unreflective of your actual knowledge. You needed something more - adrenaline. Just like many other young and inexperienced men, you decided to join the Eremites. The promise of gold and fame lured you in quite effectively. Clad in red, you served a few years in that organization. You were immediately picked up by some scruffy-looking old man, assigned to a sizable band, and sent into the desert. Even if you were fully aware of how dangerous and harsh the conditions were, you could hardly adjust to them at first. Especially that the pay was surprisingly meager. But you served nonetheless, gaining valuable experience and learning the craft. The first kill was quite shocking, but the more blood there was on your hands, the less you cared. You put in three hundred percent, but you never rose that much in the ranks. Your efforts were never appreciated, and you didn't enjoy that. So, you faked your death on one mission and moved on to make a name for yourself.

Surprisingly, contracts weren’t that difficult to find, even right from the start. The jobs were dangerous, there was scarce information, but the pay was mostly better than you received in the Eremites, especially that you didn’t have to hand the lion’s share to your superiors. If not for your skill, determination - and mostly just pure luck - you would have already shared the fate of many like you.

Time flew by. You completed job after job, killing monsters and humans alike. The majority of your earnings went towards upgrades of your weaponry and armor, and it’s not like you could afford a lavish lifestyle. You had the money, yes, but flaunting your wealth would attract unwanted attention. You may have kept your true identity a secret from both your victims and contractors, but it’s better safe than sorry after all. In spite of what the amount of mercs in Sumeru may suggest, it was hard to find equipment that would meet the demands of both dense, humid jungles and barren, scorching deserts. You picked a mixed armor set of mostly hardened leather, cloth and a chestplate, coupled with an armored but fairly cool helmet. You made sure to use dark green cloth and paint to outfit the set specifically for jungle bounties, also buying a separate second set with various modifications - like fingerless gloves and a Hydro-infused chest piece - for the deserts.

Many prideful Vision Holders reject the crossbow, labeling it as a weapon much more primitive and crude than the bow. You gladly showed some who happened to be your targets that it all depends on who uses it - a perfect shot in between the ribs from a hundred meters is nothing to scoff at, after all. The only minus was that reloading it is fairly difficult and requires plenty of strength. It’s all worth the armor piercing capabilities though, no doubt about that. You purchased two flintlocks and one high-caliber buckshot and kept them sealed tightly in your pouches so as to not let any humidity or sand break them. They were high quality and expensive, even by your standards - Fontainian quality costs.

The selection of a melee weapon was a fairly problematic matter. You weren’t a Vision Bearer - at least not back then - so there was no way to just make the weapon disappear and appear on demand. You needed something universal, hard hitting and able to be wielded with just one hand. You picked a hand ax as your main weapon, and it served you well ever since you first used it. It was wonderful both against humans and monsters, and could help by chopping firewood or hacking hunted animals apart on longer commissions. Even when you finally managed to snatch a dying Vision of one of your targets and claim it for yourself, your preference stuck. Quite soon just the image of your signature steel weapon prompted a quieter tone and wary looks from the people discussing you.

With such a kit, hardly anything was a challenge. No matter if human or monster, you hunted it down for the right price. After some practice, you managed to form a routine on equipment management and optimize your spendings to secure even more funds for yourself. This in turn allowed you to afford your own house. The location you chose was the desert. People there weren’t very nosy and often dabbled in the gray area of the law, which went by a few rules, one of them being a saying regarding why ignorance is bliss. Aaru Village was welcoming, especially that few were interested in buying property there due to the harsh conditions, borderline unbearable to the jungle dwellers. For a sizable amount of ill gotten Mora you purchased a decrepit storage building and, with some creativity and patience, transformed it into a cozy base of operations.

You rested and maintained your equipment by day, and went to do your job by night. Quite the comfortable routine, maybe minus the cleaning of blood from your clothes. The jobs were plenty, but under many names since you never officially introduced yourself under a specific alias. It's not like the people could come up with anything suited to your tastes anyway. With time and a lack of reinforcement, these tags faded away, replaced by just your occupation - bounty hunter. If one were to ask for a chance to contact you in the right places, they would ask for not ‘a’ hunter, but ‘the’ hunter, and you responded. When the money was worth your time, of course.

Your nighttime activities didn't go unnoticed, however. How could they fly under the watchful eyes of Candace, defender of Aaru Village, descendant of Al-Ahmar?

It took only a bit of observation from a considerable distance - which wasn't hard for Candace, a desert dweller since birth - and a conversation with Dehya to learn who you are. She wouldn't mind (that much) if you were just another smooth-brained run-of-the-mill mercenary, looking for luck in the endless sands. But someone like you? If the tales she heard about your deeds, you were a dangerous, very dangerous man. Candace made many enemies amongst the Eremites, who would have no qualms about raising funds to pay for her head. Candace’s concern only grew the more she stalked you. The sheer brutal efficiency you showed was nothing to scoff at, especially that you seemed to slaughter both monsters and men with the same emotionless professionalism. There were rarely any survivors, especially amongst humans. And if they were, you let them go on purpose.

For her, you were a danger. For you, she was a hindrance. Ever since you first caught her spying on you during one of your clean-up jobs, Candace became a stable thorn in your side. You knew she aimed to protect her home first and foremost, but there was no certainty what she would do in your case. Those that threatened the village were dealt with swiftly, while those that weren't malicious were left to their business. Since you never attacked civilians or officials - to keep these sweet and stable contracts from both the Corps of Thirty and Aaru Village Chief going - you weren't a threat. Why then was she spying on you? An uncertainty, maybe? Her personal anxiety? Maybe fear or jealousy? It was hard to tell, but you certainly enjoyed the attention and silent respect, even if it was mixed with hostility. Well, you would more if she wasn't such a headache. Not only was she following you with unclear intentions, but she, as a respected figure in the eyes of the chief, could potentially break your contracts and cut your earnings.

Even if the distant glances at each other over the dunes were tense, there never was a direct encounter. It was a bloodless and quiet conflict - a cold war of mutual mistrust and wariness.

Your activities were a benefit, certainly, but they were far from enough to convince her to overlook your presence. Despite knowing his intellect, Candace didn't fully trust Uncle Anpu’s judgment. Your loyalty was a commodity that could be purchased by anyone with enough funds, and it wasn't as her Vision gave her a massive advantage either. She wasn't as cold hearted and ruthless as you were. For the moment, although with a heavy heart, she resorted to simply keeping tabs on your actions. Meanwhile, she used her spare time to get more sleep, finally go shopping with Dehya and relax at the village’s meeting house.

Though most times she was drinking with either her friends or by herself, she has been hanging out with a stranger she met there, usually at dusk. He was about her age. Candace found him kind, well mannered and intelligent - quite interesting in general.

You looked at her with a knowing smile while she was going on about what deeds she handled that day or what kinds of trespassers ended up on the wrong end of her spear. After all, you saw her in action more than once, always from a safe distance. But up close, you met a kindred soul with a similar sense of diligence as yourself, even if she didn't know about your true identity. Candace was a wonderful person to be around, and, soon enough, you found yourself enamored by her maturity, sense of responsibility and caring attitude. Although you introduced yourself under your factual name, you still had to maintain some sort of cover for your true identity. You fed her a story about how you were a statistician working for the Sumeru Academia. Although your muscular stature wasn't quite like that of an overworked mathematician you painted yourself as, she accepted it - partly because she lacked even the fundamental knowledge of the subject. Variance and standard error were things of Academia, not the desert. You could explain the basics to her and write out a few random formulas you remembered from your cut-short time in the university. Even if you developed a mild crush on her, work came first. After all, she was a potential enemy.

And Candace returned the feeling. It wasn't anything beyond a crush, but she did really enjoy your company. In your long, flirtatious conversations you discussed many things, from culture through history to recent events. The topic of The Bounty Hunter was a prevalent one, and soon enough you brought it up to Candace as if she wasn't sitting right in front of the perpetrator. With care not to blow your cover, you probed her opinion of your actions, and teased her a little by complimenting your own actions’ contributions towards the safety of the village.

This sparked a certain, unusual envy in Candace. Her crush was complimenting the work of some (un)common outlaw? And what's more, in an area she takes pride in? While not one to act reckless, Candace did allow her emotions to set the directions that time. The woman disregarded the additional self care time she had on her hands for monster hunting. Her plan was to snatch your prey from your hands before you went out hunting, cut your earnings and hopefully discourage you from working around the village.

And she did succeed. Your professional wariness turned into a competition, as with less kills came less money, and less money meant less satisfaction. But what annoyed you more than the smaller paycheck from the Aaru Village Chief was the fact that Candace was attempting to root you out. And, on top of all that, the casual Candace was mostly busy or tired, delaying your official date each time you mentioned it. For the moment, Candace stopped appearing as your sympathy, but rather as a competitor. A competitor that had to be put in her place. You needed something more impressive, a proof of your capabilities and talent.

You knew exactly what to aim for.

Consecrated Scorpions, rare as they are, pose a significant threat to everyone that happens to stroll by their territory. Having feasted on the remains of defeated gods and absorbed a part of their power, these often ancient monsters weren't picky eaters, meaning it made no difference whether their food was Hilichurl, animal or human. With their terrifying size, elemental affinity and thick carapace, these creatures were nigh unkillable, even for most Vision holders. But you weren't most, were you? Such a proof of capability would fetch a mouthwatering amount of Mora and respect.

And you? You'd do anything for fame and fortune, as that was your way of life.

After giving Candace a cover story about a work trip to Port Ormos, you packed your supplies and moved south into the Land of Upper Setekh. Finding a massive, dangerous demigod beast proved more troublesome than you assumed. You knew scorpions tend to reside in dark caverns, but poking your head into each lightless crevice you found was far from a good idea. The creature could easily kill you, especially if it had the element of surprise on its side. You stalked the gorges and ravines by night, as it is the time when they are hunting. After a few unsuccessful escapades you finally managed to spot one, feasting on a Sumpter Beast. You followed it though the sunless hours, carefully memorizing the path it took when that oversized arachnid felt drowsy just as morning rolled in. The scorpion made its lair inside a sizable crevice underneath the cliffside.

Upon relocating your base camp and concealing it behind sand-colored cloths, you started your research. Scorpions, especially the giant man eating variety, weren't your forte. There were little details to go off of when it came to common knowledge, and even scientific studies. Thus, you had to experiment.

Your guinea pigs were the common, yet still quite sizable scorpions of the desert. You tested their sensitivity to light, sound, scent and visual stimuli.

Just as you thought, their eyesight was exceptionally poor. They could hardly see where they were going, often falling into pits and cracks in the rocks, usually getting out thanks to their spiky legs. A bright, white flare could make them panic if thrown at them during the night, causing them to shriek and escape. When you tried this on your prey, with whom you've gotten quite closely acquainted with due to your constant nightly tracking of the beast, turned aggressive instead of frightened. Assuming the characteristic defensive position, with claws tight to its body and the abdomen raised, it prepared an attack, and struck the flare with its massive stinger. Interestingly, instead of the venom of its smaller kin, this one delivered a powerful Electro discharge through the stinger, scorching the sand and burying your tool underneath it. Soon after it lost interest and went back to its routine. But there was an even more important discovery. When it was in its offensive pose, a fact of its anatomy revealed itself. Due to the massive and unnatural size of the Consecrated Scorpion, the exoskeleton plates weren't tight to its body, creating large openings when it was ready to strike. A well aimed shot could severely debilitate, or even kill the creature.

Scorpions, as you found out, were mostly interested in three things. Things that move, things that smell and things that are bright. This gave you enough information to formulate a plan. At dusk, you would lure a single Sumpter Beast into the small gorge near the scorpion’s lair, keeping it there with a pile of hay until the scorpion would wake and attack it. To make things more enticing for it, you would leave a burning campfire beside the animal. Then, as the stinger would be lodged deep in the prey, you would take the shot laced with a very potent horse sedative. The scorpion would pass out, and you’d have plenty of time to end its life undisturbed.

It was such a brilliant plan, the fruit of a week’s worth of meticulous observation. So much so that you felt a bit sorry for it. But ultimately, work was work, and the creature would most likely appreciate your respect by ripping you to shreds and shoving your remains down its mouth.

You set the ambush, and waited.

You breathe steadily. This is not your first time. Your gloves hands grip your empty crossbow securely - an accidental misfire would waste the precious poisoned bolt. You peer out from behind the plain cloth covering your dark campsite, spotting the oblivious creature unfortunate enough to trust you and end up as your bait. The animal is sleeping in the hay. You glance up, seeing the red remnants of sunlight painting the horizon. Any second now.

As you check your equipment, a sound reaches your ears. Footsteps. Continuous, measured - human footsteps of a single person, off to your left. Even if your helmet is painted to prevent the metal from reflecting light, you still look out with care. Your brow furrows as you spot the figure walking down the rocky cliffside towards the fire. Though she is covered in clothes, you recognise Candace by her deep blue locks of hair poking out from underneath a fabric.

You mutter to yourself. “Come on. Not you. Not now.”

You watch on as she approaches the bait and examines the campfire, before walking over to the snoring beast. She stretches out her hand and scratches the back of the furry creature while examining the hay. Candace turns sharply in your direction, causing your heart to sink. She looks around the ravine, standing in place without a word. You let out the breath you held when you realize she is oblivious to your presence.

Candace summons her shield and spear and moves down the ravine, sticking to the left side of the cliff.

The side on which the scorpion's hiding place is.

Though trying to suppress it, you feel anxious. She might just blow your whole operation wide open with her little trip. Why now, of all times? Does she have too much free time on her hands? Maybe taking contracts in her area wasn't such a good-

In a flash, a huge dust cloud raises up where Candace stood mere seconds ago. The bait wakes up and runs, kicking up even more sand. You spring into action, aiming the crossbow at it and ripping the cover tarp down. Screams and screeching resonate through the canyon as you squint your eyes on focus, using your elemental vision to see what's going on. You see the vibrant blue figure of Candace fighting with the hulking, deep purple shape of the scorpion.

Grabbing the tranquilizer bolt, you take off along the ravine’s edge towards the ongoing fight. When you find yourself directly across them, you assess the situation. Even if the scorpion assumes the stance, you won't be able to take a clear shot at your bounty. Thinking quickly and dropping your main weapon to the ground, you pull out your high caliber with a trained movement. You aim it at the rough center of the purple abdomen, and pull the trigger.

“Roar, mighty duel!”

You scream, with a loud pained hiss of the scorpion following suit. Moving to the side and out of the smoke cloud the shot created, you pick up the crossbow, lower it to the ground, hold it down with your foot and pull the string back into place. You place the bolt carefully on the wooden body of the weapon, and take aim. By this time, the smoke cleared enough for you to see what's going on without using your vision. The scorpion was wounded - a sizable chunk of its carapace has been shattered by the bullet, enough for a good chance of hitting your mark from your position.

Candace meanwhile was fighting for her life. She was jumping back, dashing between the claws of the monster in a tight dance of death. Her spear was a toothpick, and had just as much use against the Consecrated Scorpion. Now, wounded and agitated, the scorpion moved its trunk-thick stinger into action. The woman dodged the first stab, just barely avoiding being impaled on the massive stinger. The second sting, however, finds its mark. Candace manages to bring up her shield just in time to stop the tip from embedding itself in her flesh. The beast instantly tries to pull it back for another attempt, but it's stuck in the wood. Candace bashes her shield downwards, trying to break the stinger. While she struggles, and the scorpion stays still, you fire.

The bolt lands in the damaged area, embedding itself in the exposed insect flesh. Your game shrieks and struggles harder, to get its weapon free. Candace fights with all her might as you grab a handful of flares from your belt bag and tie them with a piece of rope. She manages to break the stinger, causing the monster to hiss and back away. You jump down, flare bomb in hand. You recover from the fall and set off the flares one by one. Then, you throw it straight at the scorpion.

It shrieks, using its claws to cover the six sensitive eyes it has. Candace, shield still raised, backs away towards you. You stand beside her, pistols drawn and pointed at the monster. Suddenly it turns and scurries away in the opposite direction, further down the ravine.

Candace is panting heavily, but you hit her on the back.

“Come on! It will be out in a moment. We need to catch up.”

She nods, and both of you run after the fleeing scorpion’s tracks. It doesn't take long for the poison to kick in, making it weak and slow, letting you catch up. By the time you two see it again, the monstrosity is low to the ground, claws lowered and stinger relaxed. You slow your pace, quietly watching as it slumps down, relaxing completely.

After a solid minute of staring at it, you make your careful approach, making sure to keep your distance just in case. You examine the thing's mouth, making sure the smaller pincers located there aren't moving. When you confirm that is the case, you finally lower your pistols. Candace takes a deep breath.

“It's dead?” She asks, voice raspy from the pursuit.

“No. Just out. Will be for a few hours.” You reply, holstering the weapons. You turn to her. “You alright?”

The woman closes her eyes, breathing rapidly, and dismisses both her weapons. “Yes. I’m fine.”

She walks over to a nearby rock and plops down, trying to calm her body. She looks back at you with her blue and golden eyes.

“Was this your bounty?”

You nod.

“And that animal? Was it the bait?”

“Correct.”

“I see.” She sighs, rubbing her temple. “Thank you for helping. I disrupted your hunt and damaged your prey, didn't I… I would offer to compensate you, but I don't think I have the Mora. If there is anything I could do to make up for this, tell me and I will do it.”

You smile underneath the faceplate of your mask. You move your hands to undo the straps, and pull the metal helmet away from your head. The cold night breeze is refreshing on your hot and exhausted face. You turn around.

“You could finally let me take you out on that date we planned, Candace.”

She sits there, wide eyed. Blinking a few times, the struggle to comprehend the new reveal becomes visible. She silently nods a few times.

“Alright. I can… do that, Y/N.”

You turn back to the scorpion, approaching it with your axe in hand. From the side close in on the left claw, and give it a gentle poke. The scorpion doesn't react.

“Or you can help me get the poison gland and some other valuable stuff out of this thing. I could use a pair of hands, you know.”

Candace frowns. “Ugh. Being elbow deep in insect guts wasn't my plan for the evening, but…” She gets up, and smiles warmly at you.

“A promise is a promise.”

Thanks for reading!

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin impact x male reader #fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact candace #candace #candace fluff #candace x reader #genshin candace #candace x male reader #candace x you #candace x y/n #enemies to lovers

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sotwk · 11 months

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The Fighting Abilities of Thranduil, his Sons, and Warriors of the Woodland Realm

The following are all headcanons as written into the "Sons of the Woodland King" (SotWK) universe.

History of Warfare in the Woodland Realm

The First Age Silvan elves of Greenwood the Great developed systems of combat equivalent to "real world" martial arts, similar specifically to wushu (Chinese martial art).

Close-quarter combat is more efficient in tight spaces, and therefore well-suited for densely wooded areas in the Greenwood forest.

It is useful for one-on-one fighting and stealth attacks, which was usually all the Silvans needed to defend themselves, since they did not participate in warfare prior to the Second Age.

Before the arrival of their Sindarin overlords, the forest-dwelling Silvans used only weapons that might be considered "primitive" by the High Elves: bow and arrow, daggers, spears, and staffs, but they used these to great effect and in tandem with their unarmed fighting skills.

When Oropher, his son Thranduil, and their kin arrived, they helped the Silvans ward off attacks from rogue orcs and monsters that survived the War of Wrath and threatened to infest their lands (separate HC post about that here). In gratitude and admiration, they accepted Oropher as their king.

The Sinda introduced other types of weaponry and styles/methods of warfare, including longsword, phalanx, and cavalry. They also promoted blacksmithing as a trade and art (albeit not as sophisticated as their Noldor counterparts), so real armor and stronger weapons were created.

Over many centuries, the fighting techniques of the Silvans and Sindar merged to develop the combat style that was practiced in the realm from the Third Age onward.

Images above: Spear fighting is highly-utilized by Greenwood warriors, and every soldier excels in both one-on-one combat and fighting as a unit. Inspiration can be taken from the deadly style of Achilles from the film Troy (2004).

Thranduil the Warrior King

Thranduil is acknowledged and remains unsurpassed as the greatest warrior in the Woodland Realm's history.

In his role as Prince of Greenwood, he was instrumental in forming and enhancing the military forces of the Woodland Realm throughout the Second Age. A veteran of the War of Wrath, he understood that a strong army was vital for the protection of any kingdom.

Among his countless talents, combat is Thranduil's strongest and most favored, the one he takes great pride in honing and exercising. (In contrast with his father Oropher, who was an expert politician first and foremost.)

Young Thranduil was also passionate about sharing his knowledge, and devoted his time in both training his Silvan brethren and, more importantly, learning from them and absorbing their combat culture.

Thus, the distinctively flashy yet lethal hybrid fighting style that married Silvan martial arts with Sindar swordplay was developed and wielded perfectly by Thranduil.

Thranduil is also a brilliant tactician and field commander, who served as General of the realm's armed forces for many centuries (until his eldest son eventually succeeded him in the role).

He is known for always leading the charge in every single battle, stubbornly rejecting the use of his kingsguard on the field (much to father's chagrin and wife's anxiety). But for this, he is revered by his soldiers, all who would sacrifice their lives for him without hesitation.

Thranduil and Oropher were frequently at odds when it came to policies on managing their military forces and engaging in outside conflicts. Had it not been for Thranduil's push for more training and investing in better armor and weaponry, the realm's losses during the War of the Last Alliance would have been even greater.

After he ascended the throne, Thranduil made it an even greater priority to increase the strength of Greenwood's army, which fortuitously saved the realm from being caught off-guard and overwhelmed when the Necromancer began his assaults from Dol Guldur.

Images above: Thranduil's sword-fighting style and battle prowess is very similar to that of Prince Nuada (also an elf-prince!) from the film Hellboy II: The Golden Army (2008).

Thranduilions: The Warrior Princes

The Elvenking passed his combat knowledge onto his sons by training each one of them personally.

For centuries, the princes also trained alongside the rest of the realm's armed forces and gradually grew in skill, each according to his own unique talents.

Crown Prince Mirion, the king's eldest and heir, inherited leadership of Mirkwood's army around TA 1200, when he was named General and "Protector of the Realm", as he was a fierce defender of the Woodland people during the rise of Dol Guldur. (Upon his untimely death, the role reverted back to Thranduil.) He is physically the strongest of the princes, even stronger than his father.

Prince Gelir Thranduilion (fourth-born) is famed for being the realm's most talented archer and hunter, eventually becoming Captain of the Spider-hunters.

Prince Legolas Thranduilion (youngest) is the most acrobatic, creative, and "playful" fighter among his brothers, being the most naturally agile. He is also quick to learn just by observing, and so carries the fighting styles and tricks of his older brothers with him.

Prince Arvellas Thranduilion (third-born) is the least trained and and experienced in the fighting arts among the princes, not for lack of talent, but because (like the Elvenqueen), he chose early on to devote himself to academia and the healing arts instead.

Five Princes of Mirkwood: Personal SotWK commission by hffhifjou (click to enlarge)

Prince Turhir: Born for Battle

While all the Thranduilion Princes are skilled warriors with their own styles, the most naturally gifted and the most like his father in martial strength, skill, and ferocity, is Prince Turhir Thranduilion (second-born).

Turhir can be described as the ultimate fighting machine: brutally strong, virtually inexhaustible, extremely fast (esp. for his 7'6 size), and possessing flawless battle instincts. He is also uniquely hard of body, and in the rare times he sustains injuries, he recovers with no help necessary from healers.

Over the entirety of Thranduil's kingship (Third Age), Turhir is the only one, anywhere in Middle-earth, to have ever bested the Elvenking in single combat--and he did so several times during the Third Age, proving he had the potential to surpass his father in fighting ability.

In TA 542, Turhir was granted the role of Master Trainer of the Greenwood armies, making him responsible for teaching many of the young soldiers that fought for Mirkwood in the wars of the Third Age.

But where was he during the Battle of the Five Armies and War of the Ring?? To be revealed in future HC discussions and/or SotWK fics.

Images above: The spear is Turhir's favorite weapon, and his skill with it is best exhibited again by Prince Nuada from the film Hellboy II: The Golden Army (2008), especially in this training scene.

Thank you for reading!

For more Thranduil/Mirkwood headcanons: SotWK HC Masterlist

Tolkien Headcanon tag list (plus some others who have shown interest in this subject--thank you all!): @quickslvxr @laneynoir @auttumnsayshi @achromaticerebus @tamryniel @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @blueberryrock @aduialel @glassgulls @ladyweaslette @klytemnestra13 @jezzibee @creativity-of-death @heilith @fizzyxcustard @absentmindeduniverse @lathalea @tamurilofrivendell @jordie-your-local-halfling @laurfilijames @i-am-pinkie @ladyk8tie @princesschimchim1325 @kazimina @scyllas-revenge @asianbutnotjapanese @conversacomsmaug @lemonivall @ratsys

#sotwk headcanon #thranduil #thranduil headcanon #legolas #mirkwood #mirkwood elves #the elvenking #oropher #lord of the rings #tolkien #tolkien headcanons #tolkien elves #sotwk ocs #thranduilion

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chaosroid · 3 months

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I think it's really interesting to see patterns of double standards crop up in fandom again when it comes to racist behaviour exhibited by certain characters. People love to point out Shadowheart's racist attitude towards Githyanki but give Lae'zel a pass for some reason, when she is arguably far more racist. Nobody talks about it, they just call her blunt and brutally honest, but that's really understating things. Girlie is straight up a Gith supremacist who, for all of act 1, believes everyone in Faerun are beneath her and inferior. She makes derogatory remarks about your physical appearance, is frequently condescending about your people, tries to force a Tiefling to bow before her, and says some pretty vile things like believing children deserve death if they are weak. All the result of indoctrination of course, but despite sharing so many similarities with Shadowheart, the latter is treated far more harshly.

Nevermind that it's later revealed that Shadowheart is wary of Gith bc they recently just slaughtered her entire team, making her the sole survivor. Can't say they didn't have it coming since they stole their artifact, but her hostility doesn't just come from nowhere. If you play as a Githyanki, she'll be nervous at first but very quickly warms up to you and admits she's misjudged you. Also considering that Githyanki are literal fascist raiders with the only thing preventing them from pillaging all of Faerun being their war with the Illithids, her wariness is hardly unfounded. We hear instances of Githyanki patrols slaughtering Tieflings as early as act 1. It doesn't make her comments any less wrong, but considering the context, it makes sense.

Honestly, it feels like a case of Shadowheart looking too similar to a human earning her more scrutiny, whereas the more alien characters tend to get away with racist behavior despite acting in the same manner, if not worse, excused by "cultural differences". The Mass Effect fandom treated Ashley Williams similarly, where being human earned her more scorn while the racist remarks said by the alien crewmates were brushed aside and barely acknowledged. Garrus tries to make Tali feel contrite about her race, Wrex and Grunt straight up call Salarians a slur multiple times and is fine with making the Rachni extinct, Mordin contributed to the culling of the Krogans, Javik thinks everyone who isn't Prothean are primitive, and fans cheer when Shepard calls a Hanar a "big stupid jellyfish", but Ashley's the most bigoted squadmate of that franchise apparently.

It's a fascinating phenomenon that I notice in many fantasy and sci-fi fandoms, and it's amusing seeing it happen to BG3's as well now.

#saw a reddit thread where half the comments said they preferred lae'zel over shart bc she 'wasn't a racist bitch' like huh???#baldur's gate 3 #shadowheart #lae'zel critical #mass effect #ashley williams #fandom critical

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rizlowwritessortof · 8 months

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Worth It

This was written for @stusbunker Stu's Sinema Challenge. My Deadly Sin was Envy, quote is in bold in the fic.

Of course Dean doesn't mind if you go hang out with some guy you knew in your civilian life. You know, the kind of life he never had. It's fine.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4,174

Warnings: Smut, Oral (male & female receiving), swearing - you know, the usual 😊

The air is thick with the smell of sweat, blood and death. You, Sam and Dean are back to back to back in the middle of the room, most of the nest lying scattered around you. Dean lunges forward and slices another vamp across the chest, then swings his machete in a hard downward stroke, taking the monster’s head and sending it rolling across the floor.

He turns as you take on the last one standing. The furious creature hisses, running at you, and Dean watches in admiration as you whirl and slash in a graceful, macabre dance of blade and blood, sending the undead thing to Purgatory. “Fuck me, nice move,” he says, and you turn, wiping a smear of blood from your cheek.

“Thanks!” you answer with a bright smile. Dean’s stare is like a physical touch, and your smile slowly fades, something primitive crackling in the air between you. Then Sam speaks and the spell is broken.

“You got the last one, I guess Dean’s buying!” he laughs, and Dean huffs as he turns to wipe the blade of his machete on a bale of hay.

“I don’t know why I bet with you,” he grumbles, and you laugh.

“Hey, it was your idea, champ.” You grin even wider at his grumpiness, digging a little more. “I’m feeling really thirsty, too.”

His lips twitch as he smothers a smile, reluctant to give in that easily. “Yeah, yeah. I pay my bets. Let’s burn this dump and get outta here. I could use a beer or six myself.”

You hit your room almost running, anxious to get showered and hit the bar, conveniently located right across the two-lane highway from your motel. You feel alive, a buzzing just beneath your skin - adrenaline and something else, something that’s making you feel a little reckless. You push down the memory of Dean’s expression back in the barn, staring at you like he was just as hungry as those vamps. That’s something you don’t allow yourself to think about, so you focus on the night ahead, hoping there will be some pretty local boy in that place who’s in the mood to get lucky. And who hopefully has the skills to make you get lucky.

The three of you walk into the local dive together, eyes adjusting quickly to the dim, cloudy lighting. Dean heads to the bar to grab some beers as you and Sam stake out a table, waiting for the night’s benefactor to return with the reward for your victory.

He’s smiling as he arrives, handing you an icy longneck with an exaggerated bow and holding his out as you all toast together. “Hate to admit it, but that last move of yours – you deserved to win. This time.”

“Awwww… thanks, you big teddy bear, you.”

“All right, all right,” he grumbles, but he’s smiling and you know he likes it when you call him sweet names, even if he’d never admit it.

Sam is staring towards the bar, and you turn to look. “Oh, Sammy – bartender’s kinda cute, and she’s looking at you!” you tease, and he blushes a little, his dimples flashing as he shakes his head with a grin.

“Shut up, half-pint.”

“Want me to introduce you?” Dean jabs at his brother, and Sam rolls his eyes.

“No. Both of you, get drunk and stupid and do what you do, I can take care of my own shit.” He grabs his beer and heads for the bar, taking a seat and striking up a conversation with the cute brunette.

“Kind of dead in here. Wanna shoot some pool? Maybe you can win something tonight!” You head for the back of the room, Dean following you with a smirk.

“Gloat away, smartass – I’d love to teach you a lesson.”

The two of you play a couple of games, exchanging snarky comments and sexual innuendos as usual accompanied by laughter and more beer. Around 9 pm a small group of guys walk in, and you glance up, followed by an ‘Oh, my god… I don’t believe it.”

“What?” Dean asked, taking his shot, standing when he finishes to look towards where your stare is aimed.

“I know those guys. Well, a couple of them.”

“Oh, yeah – you grew up around here somewhere, didn’t you?”

“I went to high school a couple of towns over. Still, never thought I’d see anybody I knew. I’m gonna go over and say hi. You don’t mind, do you?”

Dean shrugs, shaking his head, turning his attention back to the pool table, one eye on you as you approach the group of twenty-somethings. Of course he doesn’t mind, why should he mind? That self-destructive, uncomfortable feeling is kicking up in his gut, the one that whispers that he doesn’t fit in, that he’s a freak who will never have anything those kind of people have and take for granted. He’s lived with it for years, every time Dad moved him and Sam to a new town, a new school. The armor he’s always worn - the snarky, smart-ass attitude, the I-don’t-give-a-shit bad boy persona – that was its origin, developed and thickened like a scar to keep that fucking feeling from overwhelming him. It’s never so bad when he has backup, which is usually you and Sam, but Sam is busy flirting with the bartender and now you’re talking and laughing with the locals. Guys who got to grow up like normal kids, go to high school, take girls out to movies and proms, have family dinners and vacations. And what makes it all worse is that he tells himself, tells Sam, that the kind of life people like that live would drive him crazy – but the truth is, deep down, that’s what he’s always wished for.

Dean watches as Sam catches his eye with a little wave. He’s on his way out with that cute little brunette, and Dean nods in reply. Guess he’ll be sleeping in the car tonight. He thinks about finishing his beer and leaving, too – instead of watching you flirt and laugh with the normals, probably hook up with one. He thinks about taking Baby and going for a drive, parking out in the country somewhere to sleep so he doesn’t have to see who you bring back to your room with you.

Where the hell did that come from? Not like the two of you have ever even thought about hooking up. Ok, that’s a fucking lie, he thinks about it all the time – just has never allowed himself to actually make a move. Besides, he knows how it would end up. Like things always end up for him. But tonight, watching you with those guys – it’s hitting harder than usual.

The sound of your laughter makes him clench his teeth, and he clears the pool table with a series of forceful shots, one right after the other. An older man comes strolling over to challenge him, and Dean accepts, telling him to rack ‘em up as he grabs another drink. He does a shot of whiskey before taking his beer back to the table. Ok, might as well make a little money, pay for the drinks and maybe make a little gas money. It has nothing to do with keeping an eye on you. He ignores the voice inside him that tells him he’s full of shit.

You’re really enjoying yourself, laughing and talking, reminiscing about high school (which is the last time you saw these guys). Kurt, the one you really remember, is looking good, and apparently the feeling is mutual – he keeps touching you, hand on your shoulder, brushing your hair back, occasionally slipping an arm around your waist. You actually dated him a few times, and you’ve had enough beer and tequila shooters that your edges are softening and your walls are a little wobbly. After all, you were kind of looking to blow off some steam tonight, right?

You glance over at Dean when a little pang of guilt digs at you, but he’s focused on beating some guy at a game of pool, so you push it down and turn back to Kurt. His two buddies are restless, no other prospects for them to focus on. They all head for the bathroom in the back, and you order another beer, letting your eyes wander back towards Dean. He’s heading that direction, too, so you lean back on the bar and nurse your drink. Just want enough to keep the buzz going, keep that pleasant, blurry, happy glow.

You watch Dean come back into the bar, his face stormy. He doesn’t even glance your direction, and you wonder what’s going on with him. He’s probably pissed that you ditched him for some local dude, but you’re allowed to have some fun, right? I mean, you guys can hang out anytime.

Kurt comes back, his buddies vaguely mumbling ‘nice to see you’ and ‘catch you later’ as they head out for greener pastures. Kurt’s staying, so you smile, and he leans in to kiss you as he waits for his beer. It’s nice, not earth-shattering, but beggars can’t be choosers, and you’re to the point of settling in for the night. He’s cute, and he’s obviously interested, and it’s better than the vibrator in your bag at the motel, right? You tell him you’re heading for the little girls’ room, and he kisses you again, letting his hand roam a little, down over your hip, a little squeeze. You leave him with a little smirk, walking to the back hall and into the bathroom.

You wash up, check your hair, decide you don’t look bad for being half wasted, and head out. Dean is standing there, one shoulder propped against the wall by the door. “You know he’s a piece of shit, right?”

You roll your eyes. “You always think any guy I’m with is a piece of shit, Dean.”

He has his mouth held all tight, those little dimples above the corners of his mouth prominent. “Yeah, well, he really is. You didn’t hear him in the bathroom before telling his douchebag friends how he was gonna be balls deep inside you by midnight.”

You glare back at him, instantly pissed off. At Kurt, for being that guy, and at Dean for pointing it out. “Yeah, well, maybe that’s right where I want him.”

Before you can blink, your back is against the wall and Dean’s lips are crushed to yours, his hands gripping your arms hard enough to leave bruises. Your body betrays you, your brain shuts down, and for a few seconds you respond to his touch, the feel of his hard body pressing you into the wall, his lips at once soft and demanding. When you breathe again, your temper flares and you shove him hard, forcing him a step back as your eyes fire lasers at him. “What the fuck, Dean?”

“He doesn’t even know you. He has no idea what you’ve been through, who you are now. He doesn’t deserve to be with you.”

You are even more pissed off when you feel tears stinging your eyes. “First of all, not planning to marry him and have his children. Second of all – none of your goddamn business.” You turn on your heel and leave him standing there, heading out to the bar, reaching for your beer and draining it in one go. You order another, ignoring Kurt’s questions about what’s wrong. “I’m fine. Where were we?” you say, refusing to watch as Dean drops a wad of bills on the bar to pay the tab and stalks towards the door, which closes with a slam as he leaves.

Kurt tries valiantly to get your mood back to where it was before you left the room, you’ll give him an A for effort. But you finally have enough and turn to face him with a tight smile. “Sorry, Kurt, I’m gonna have to take off. Great to see you again.”

“Awww, don’t go. I was hoping…”

“To be balls deep inside me by midnight? Yeah, I heard.” You pat your hand firmly against his chest. “It’s okay, I’m sure you’re more than capable of taking care of that little problem yourself. You’ve probably had a lot of practice. See ya.” You head for the door and don’t look back to see the look on his face, but you can imagine it clearly. You smother a smile as you leave the bar, but it completely fades when you look across the way and see Dean leaning against the Impala, his head tipped back as he drinks from his flask.

“Oh, well – fuck it,” you mutter, squaring your shoulders and striding across the asphalt to reach the parking lot. Dean looks up as your boots crunch in the gravel, then looks back down, avoiding your eyes.

“Where’s the used-to-be frat boy,” he asks as you stop in front of him.

“Licking his wounds, I imagine.” He looks up, wanting to ask, but keeps his mouth clamped shut. “Come on, we need to talk,” you say as you walk to the door of your room and unlock it.

“About what?”

You turn and glare at him. “Just get your ass in here. Please.”

The frown on his brow would intimidate most people, but you’re used to it. He finally scuffs his feet around a little and reluctantly trudges towards you, shouldering his way through the door and crossing the room. He leans against the wall near the bathroom door, arms folded across his chest and his ankles crossed, those dimples showing the level of his displeasure.

You close the door and lock it, tossing the key card onto the table as you approach him and stop directly in front of him, staring into his defiant eyes. “Well, go ahead. Tear me a new one,” he bites out.

Instead, you step closer, place your palm against his chest and lean up, your head tilting a little to the side as your lips land on his, nibbling and nipping at that tempting bottom lip. You feel his chest tense up, and you draw back a little, meeting his wary gaze. “What… uh… are you doing?”

“You started this… you will forgive me if I finish it,” you manage, your voice raspy with restrained want as you kiss him again. His arms drop to his sides, and for a second or two he is still, as if he’s afraid to move, afraid he’ll make you shy away. When your tongue teases at his lips, he moves so suddenly that your heart trips up in your chest. He scoops you up, hands behind your thighs, perching you at his waist as he turns to hold you against the wall and return your kiss with a quiet desperation that makes you clutch him tight, your arms around his neck.

He kisses you like it’s what keeps him alive, savoring you, every glide of his tongue against yours a languid, thoughtful caress, and his lips are pure heaven, just like you’ve imagined a hundred times. His fingers are kneading rhythmically at your waist, his hips rocking into you slightly, and you adjust your position so his growing erection is hitting just the right spot, forcing a low moan from you both.

You break apart for a moment, both of you panting for air, and he buries his face in your neck, your name a rough whisper in your ear as he nibbles at your soft skin. You buck against him, your need a raging fire, your voice a desperate whine. “Dean, need you…”

“You got me,” he rumbles, kissing you again, fierce and ravenous, then turning to let your feet slide to the floor. You shove impatiently at his t-shirt, and the corner of his mouth quirks up in a little smirk as he complies, pulling it over his head and dropping it to the floor. He reaches for yours, watching your face as he begins to lift it, waiting for your eyes to tell him to continue before he pulls it off. His eyes are hungry as you unclasp your bra, letting it fall before reaching for him, your breasts crushed to his warm chest as your lips crash together again.

You finally push back, your eyes drifting shut for a moment as he brushes his fingers across your nipple. You reach for his jeans, opening the zipper and looking up at him as his jaw tics, his teeth clenched as you touch his heated skin. “Better get those boots off, yeah?” you smile, and he grins.

You both sit on the end of the bed, boots and socks flung out of the way, and before you can stand back up, he pushes you back on the bed and opens your jeans, tugging them down and bending to kiss your belly button, making you giggle. He works them down your legs, then goes after your panties, his tongue darting out over his lips as he finishes removing the last barrier. Your eyes are riveted to the bulge in his boxer briefs, his jeans barely hanging on to his hips, and you literally feel your mouth water and your pussy clench.

He drops to his knees and kisses his way slowly up the length of your legs, finally reaching the apex and dropping a gentle kiss to your mound. “Can I?” he asks, and you hear the want in his voice. You nod with a little whine, your head dropping back as he nuzzles his face between your thighs, rubbing his nose over your clit. The first sweep of his tongue through your folds punches a moan from your throat, and he responds, sending a delicious vibration over your sensitive flesh. He’s nudging and nibbling, driving you insane, finally spearing his tongue deep inside you as he moans again at your flavor.

He explores you thoroughly until you’re squirming beneath the onslaught, and you gasp as he slides a pair of those thick, calloused fingers inside you, stroking, curling. You’re on the edge already, and when he moves up to suck your clit into the warmth of his mouth, you buck up into him and come.

“Fuck, Deeean!” He keeps you at the peak of pleasure until you are begging him to stop, and he finally backs off, gently cleaning you with wide swipes of his tongue. He rubs a hand over his face, looking very satisfied with himself as he begins to stand, and you glare at him playfully, breathing hard. “Pants off, mister, and get your perky ass up here.”

“Perky? Really?” he says a little sarcastically, but he’s smiling.

“It is perky, and I want to see it naked.” He complies, an extra little wiggle as he finishes, and you laugh. “Get up here, Magic Mike.” You’ve moved yourself up to lie on the pillows, your breath catching in your throat for a second as he turns to walk towards the bed. Your imagination doesn’t hold a candle to the reality, and you take a breathless moment to appreciate him as he approaches, his cock proud and bobbing slightly as he moves. “Wait – side pocket of my bag, condoms…” you manage to say, and he turns to where your duffle sits on the chair in the corner.

He digs a little, then turns with a naughty smirk and raised eyebrow, your purple vibrator in his hand. You can’t help but laugh again at his expression, and he grins. “Another time maybe.” He puts it back, finding the original target and tossing the foil packet at you as he climbs onto the bed.

“Lay back – my turn to play,” you say, and move to let him settle himself in the middle of the bed, watching as you move down between his legs, his eyes glowing with anticipation. His stomach muscles jump as you reach for him, your fingers gently petting his erection, hot and hard and soft as velvet beneath your touch. He exhales harshly, his jaw working as he watches, swearing as you lean down to smother his cock with your breasts, your neck bent so you can run your tongue over the head.

“Jesus! Fff-uuuuuuck…” His hands are clawing into the bedding, the sexiest noises you’ve ever heard being punched from his chest as you suck the tip into your mouth, one hand squeezing at the tense, hard muscle of his thigh. You lift your body so you can bend and take him in deeper, pushing yourself to your limit, working him with your tongue and sucking hard as you pull back up. You do it again, and then once more, finally pulling off completely with a tease of your tongue into the slit. His chest is heaving with the effort of holding back, and when you tear open the packet, he reaches for your hand, shaking his head. “No… no, let me, I can’t...”

You hand it to him, watching as he grips the base of his cock, squeezing, his eyes clenched shut as he backs off the urge to come. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, and you can barely hold still, your cunt pulsing, impatient to be filled. Finally he blows out a breath, taking the condom out and rolling it over his length. You climb up over him, attacking his lips as he clutches at your breast, and your sigh mingles with his moan as you lick into his mouth hungrily.

You can’t take it any longer, raising up to reach for him, guiding him to your entrance, mouth open in a silent cry as you slowly take him in. There’s fire in his eyes as he watches you, his gaze moving from your face to where you are joined and back again. You whimper as he fills you completely, piercing the deepest part of you, and you bite at your lip as you savor the sensation of your body shifting, molding itself around him.

Dean reaches to run his hands over the soft skin of your thighs, squeezing gently. “C’mere, baby,” he whispers, and you lower yourself back down to kiss him. “You feel so damn good,” he murmurs against your lips, and you hum in response, grinding down against him.

“Mmmmm, so do you.” You begin to move, rocking against him, the delicious friction on your clit making you moan. Soon you want more, and you reluctantly abandon Dean’s lips to raise up so you can ride him for real. His fingers dig into your hips as he helps you move, and each time you drop down to take him deep it forces a muffled cry from you. You fuck him until your legs are burning, right at the edge, almost desperate.

Dean sits up, one hand holding you tight against him as he puts the other down between you to rub at your clit, a low groan in his throat as your pussy clenches around him. “Come for me, and I’ll roll you over and fuck you so hard,” he promises. You’re begging now, ‘please’ and ‘Dean’ and swearing, gritting your teeth, and when he leans close to your ear, growling, “Give it to me,” you do. You barely recognize yourself in the sound that bursts from you as blinding ecstasy floods through you, and Dean grunts as your cunt seizes around him with a vicious squeeze.

You’re still riding the wave of your orgasm when he manhandles you, flipping you to your back and seamlessly driving back inside you. You clamp your legs around him, hips rising to meet every thrust as he hits a fast, furious rhythm, his arms caging your body and his face buried in your neck. You’re shaking, fingers tearing at the bed, shouting as he hits his peak and bites down on the slope of your neck. “Fuck!” You feel his cock pulsing as he comes, and it makes you shudder, your muscles seizing up again for a moment before you go completely limp beneath him.

He relaxes slowly, his body heavy and warm on top of yours, his lips and tongue soothing the bite before he goes motionless. You both lie there, chests heaving together, riding out aftershocks with soft little whimpers and moans. He finally moves, pulling out of you, sending a hard shudder through your body, and he laughs softly, making you smile. He rolls to his back, ridding himself of the condom before turning back to pull you close.

For a while there are slow, lazy kisses and roaming hands, and then he turns to his back again, cradling you against his side, your head tucked into his shoulder. His last thought as he dozes off is that maybe he doesn’t have a normal life. But what he has, right now? Worth it.

Tags for my lovelies: @saenalife @deanscarlett @jensensgotyoudean @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @geeklibrarian @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @mrswhozeewhatsis @littlegreenplasticsoldier @sleep-silent-angel @darcia22 @winchesterprincessbride @ellen-reincarnated1967 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @deanslittleangel2y5 @melanie451 @spectaculacular-sammy @bookchic20 @jodyri @selma-jean-blog @savingapplepie-eatingthings @kittenofdoomage @masked-maiden42 @lean-mean-deanwinchester @ericuhlorain @undecided-garden @ceeceewinchester @typicalweirdbookworm @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit @youtoldalie @tanithlowisabamf-blog @deandoesthingstome @jxackles @nerdwholikesword @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic @kreweofimp @gabavaldman @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog @darkx143 @disassociativedogma @ioanashalala @jencharlan @deansthirstblog @dorky-and-i-know-it @mischief-maker1 @winchestersandwordprocessors @percussiongirl2017 @bringmesomepie56 @akshi8278 @torn-and-frayed @sandlee44 @wingedcatninja @evansrogerskitten @emoryhemsworth @peaceinourtime82 @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @sarcasmqueen74 @maliburenee @mrsjenniferwinchester @yeehawbitchs @emily-winchester @hobby27

#worth it #stu's sinema challenge #dean fic #dean x reader #dean smut

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