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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months

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I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin.

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm.

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after.

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well.

— I’ll find something to eat, alright?

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged.

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you.

— Ah…your father is at home?

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was.

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you.

— You didn’t tell him about me?

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly.

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh.

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart.

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home.

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed.

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen.

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid.

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished.

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel.

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son.

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl.

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it?

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years.

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like.

— Ja. You can have it.

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it.

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you.

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him.

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home.

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you.

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom.

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you.

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet.

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz.

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce.

— What do you mean by this, sir?

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally.

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid.

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship.

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you.

König is.

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you.

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man.

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this.

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father.

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too.

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir.

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing.

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all.

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks.

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies.

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right?

You look like a good candidate.

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz.

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left.

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here.

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body.

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him.

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is.

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway.

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all.

— I don’t want to break his heart.

— He doesn’t have one.

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it.

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted.

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game.

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later.

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum.

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please”

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable.

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later.

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before.

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people.

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right.

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore.

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid.

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second.

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this.

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it.

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed.

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good.

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father.

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it?

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul.

— I’ll tell him.

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck.

— I need to return to my dorm.

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja?

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right.

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen.

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked.

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are.

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja?

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes.

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere x reader

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hqkalon · 9 months

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𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 | jjk men

cont. voice kink, lots of teasing, public teasing, choking kink, voyeurism kink, petnames, praise kink | pairings : nanami , toji , gojo , sukuna , and getou x reader

an : for the millionth writing, this piece is not proofread lmfao— so a future apology for any writing error (:

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐈 it was a total accident, he’s usually a very affectionate man who loves touching everywhere on your body— whether that be his arm around your waist, or cutely holding hands. Though underneath tables and closed doors, he seems to be a different man.

a double date with each couple on side of the table? “that’s so cute, how did the two of you meet?” a voice across the table excitedly asked, “oh we met at a local bak-” you hesitated, feeling nanami’s ice-cold fingers snaked inside of your dress, “bakery.” nanami’s nonchalant tone replied innocently. hand stills caressing your bare thigh, before meeting your eyes as he leaned in. “naughty girl. stay still and keep quiet.” his lips brushing the heat of your ear as a hushed hiccup left your mouth, feeling the pads of his finger against your clothed clit. “she was a cashier who always added extra pastries in my bag.” nanami sat up and continued on without an ounce of suspicion.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 his voice always had a natural sternness, which you’ve subconsciously obliged to; along with his husky voice, stringing out each contestant so perfectly like a feather floating in the wind. He knew his tone made you feel a certain way, but not necessarily his voice.

“how about this one?” you turned around, displaying the white strawberry panties in your hand, watching toji examine it in approval. “yeah it’s cute.” his eyes directed elsewhere, “don’t lie if you don’t like it.” aggravation trailed through your tone, “you can leave if you aren’t gonna help.” a small gust of air hit you as toji’s hand gripped your upper, locking you in place. “how about i stuff those panties in that cute little mouth of yours hm? maybe then i’ll help.” his tone maliced with lust— your head whipped around instantly as heat bubbled within your tummy, “hah? what’s wrong with you?” your palm against your mouth, “n-nothing let’s go.” you casually tried to brush the feeling off, locking onto toji’s arm. “my voice affects you that much?” your hand slapped your ear as heat flooded your face, “cute.”

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 he’s always been a tease just throwing out random allegations with a condescending outline behind his sentence. of course he’d be utterly amused once he’s correct, teasing you non-stop— watching you hide your face in embarrassment.

“wait like this?” you softly glided the razors against gojo’s lower jaw as his hands wrapped lazily around your hips. “mhmm, you’re doing a good job angel.” he hummed with his eyes closed, your hand tilting his head backwards. “thankss.” you continued dragging the blade before gojo’s hand cupped yours. “why are you saying thank you?” he questioned chuckling “ya got a praise kink?” his ocean eyes opened, meeting yours as you quickly looked away. “w-what?” you decided to play dumb, feeling heat pour to your face. his arms tightened around your waist pulling you closer to him, “just continue shaving my face pretty girl.” his tone innocently brushing the situation off as you began your movements again this time fully aware of any praise. “good girl.” gojo teased, looking at your reaction through the mirror. “shut up toru .”

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 such a cunning motherfucker when he finds out— similar to gojo, but much primal with it. he acts like he’s always knew that you’ve had such a kink, but wanted to wait till you announced it.

“such a brat.” sukuna scoffed watching you storm towards him, knowing how much his condescending tone sets you off. “kuna i told you about that name.” you pounced onto him, playfully raising a hand before feeling fingers wrap around your throat. “yeah you did.” his lips curled into a grin watching your movements falter as he pulled you near him, “what’s the matter brat?” his tone twisted with mischief, “move your hands.” you demanded with a hand tugging at his. “what’s the magic word princess.” his hand slightly tightened around your throat as a small mewl left your lips. “please..” you asked, adverting your eyes away from his— feeling his hand release. “atta girl.”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 nonchalant about it, BUT once the two of you get to a secluded area he’s on your ass. touching and groping your body non-stop because he wants to see it first hand himself. definitely had to bite back his horniness (failed).

"maybe i'll just cut my hair to my shoulder then?" geto questioned in question for you as you just shook your head side to side. "no geto don't cut your hair." you sighed reaching a hand out to play with his hair. "why not?" his eyebrow raised, turning within your direction. "beauseee it's pretty like this." you stressed out the vowels, meeting his eyes as he grinned before pursing hsi lips together. "i just remembered something.." a brief moment of silence passed by before you hummed in reponses waiting for his answer, "you know… you always tug my hair." his eyes glued to yours as you sat there confused. “what?” you laughed in question, “when your layed out with legs s—” his words muffled against your palm before grabbing your wrist with his hand, kissing the inside of your hand. “w-what are you doing?!” you stuttered out before snatching your hand— trying to bite back the embarrassment. “you’re too cute”

#scripts .📃#jjk x reader #jjk smut #nanami x reader #toji x reader #gojo x reader #sukuna x reader #geto x reader #nanami smut #toji smut #gojo smut #sukuna smut #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

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mareestoermers · 1 month

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i think we are all forgetting something when we talk about how toxic patrick, tashi, and art are — or when we decide one is “worse” than the other. they all have moments of seeing right through it, seeing each other’s toxic behavior for what it is, and STILL want and need each other in this possessive, envious, visceral way.

1. in the way beginning, tashi is clearly flirting more with art than patrick, and patrick is visibly annoyed. art sees right through it and even challenges him like “okay, let’s leave”, and has this little smirk on his face because he knows patrick won’t give up on tashi.

2. tashi immediately sees the visible tension and love between art and patrick, and literally orchestrates their first kiss. she sees right through their repression, and even calls herself a “home-wrecker” but still entangles herself with them, especially patrick because he’s clearly the better tennis player at that point and that is tash’s ONLY true love. tennis. that’s what she desires most in him, and patrick knows that. he even calls her out on it in the dorm room scene. but they have this mirroring fire in each other that neither of them can give up, not until patrick breaks the balance and bails — tashi’s injury is literally a metaphor for the balance shattering between all three of them when patrick leaves her.

3. before this, patrick sees right through art trying to break them up, and even admires that quality — maybe even feels smug and flattered because art is jealous and feels left out from both tashi and patrick. patrick has known this all along, we saw it in the “tick-serve” scene, where he even swears to tashi he won’t tell anyone but he still tells art, who is desperate to feel a part of them and patrick wants that, too — even keeps that close intimacy with art that we see in the churro scene (swoon swoon swoon).

4. haven’t you noticed that arts desire to be great is only ever tied up in patrick and tashi? how he needs to beat patrick to win tashis affection, how he needs to win in tennis so that tashi can live through him, how he lives up to his potential in the ending only because tashi and patrick push him to it, in their little fucked up ways? he knows this — he even admits that he’s playing for tashi, that he knows she’s living through him. he even admits he’s playing a fucked up little game with patrick when they’re in the sauna. yet he still does it. again, he knows what’s happening, sees right through them — still does it, still loves them.

5. when tashi calls patrick to come pick her up he knows it’s not just to tell him to throw the match — and despite how she battles him about it, they still have sex in the car, because he already knows. he’s so fully aware of her and her game and he’s so willing to be caught up in it, the same as art.

just some examples of how they all have moments of clarity and agency and yet they still choose to be entangled in one another because they’re all fucked up in their own, individual ways, and they’re all living through each other for their own specific needs. arts is to be seen as worthy, as great, but only through their gaze. tashis is to have the career that was stolen from her. patricks is truly to be in love and in lust with both of them, because we even see that from the beginning that tashis love alone will never satiate him; it has to be arts love, too. that scene in the sauna when he thinks he’s lost it from art is the most sad and fucked up we ever even see patrick. on top of tashi asking him to throw the game — he’s so defensive of arts feelings.

in short this is an actual love triangle (and i would go as far as to see it as a polyship). you can’t erase one without the whole thing unraveling, and you can’t say one character was the “worst” without picking apart the motivations and pointing to the fact that their bad behavior was never a secret or left unchecked.

even at the end, patrick signals to art that he slept with tashi — art knows and they still have that intimate completion at the end, all three of them. art living up to his potential and embracing patrick fully (id argue this could even be a metaphor for embracing his bisexuality), patrick having both tashi and arts affection again, and tashi playing a phenomenal tennis match through her little white boys — in such a visceral, emotional way that she cries out like she did in the beginning and the last frame is her smiling.

in a fucked up way, they all get what they wanted out of each other.

#challengers #challengers spoilers #tashi duncan #art donaldson #patrick zweig #zendaya #mike faist #josh o'connor #luca guadagnino #text post

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kaizynofsickness · 11 days

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Wolf Sukuna x bunny reader

Synopsis: cuteness and innocence comes with a consequence when you're just such a petite small bunny doing dumb childish activities at the dead of night, happening to attract some wolf in need

Warning: female reader, predator and pray play, wolf Sukuna, bunny reader, oblivious reader, dacryphilla, public sex (in a forest), manhandling, fingering, reader squirting for the first time, unprotected sex, non-con, slight chasing goin' on, yandere-ish vibes (he find himself needing you), hardcore, breeding kink, slight spanking, lots of tail/ear pulling, degrading (dumb bunny/rabbit, whore bunny, slutty girl) praising too (good girl, atta girl, cutie), true form Sukuna, two cocks, double penetration (anal & cunt), SIZE DIF (he's 7'6", u cant beat him) Sukuna is a bit soft at the end. Sex with plot (?) MDNI, I will block you!!

A/N: this idea has been rotting me, does anyone else do hybrid Sukuna? Just me? Damn... My warning list is long ASF. Lazy/half proof read.

"one, two... Oh, three!" You count out how many flowers you could find buried in the thick layers of snow, picking out nearly dead ones. It was getting dark, yet you wanted a new collect of your 'snow flowers' that you did every time it snowed. You never missed a season since you were 17, so why start now at 20?

The flowers soon start to lessen and so does the light around the forest, leaving everything dark. A pout tugs at your lips as your bunny ears perk up, alert all the sudden as darkness consumes the night. Your eyes darted to every possible corner inside of the small snowy forest—maybe you were a tad bit scared of the dark, more like what hides inside of the shadows. You decide to call it quits, getting off of your knees and brushing the little bit of snow that was covering on your puffy white coat that was down to your thighs. You waddled around the snow, grabbing your new collection of flowers that survived with a smile.

You give the sun one more wave, as night fallen completely. You watch the light shrink until you really didn't wanna be in the dark no more, a little hop in your step as you trailed down the snowy path.

You had a right to fear what was happening in the darkness...

The wolf who had been watching you this whole time, grab-able bunny ears and a cute little cotton tail he could just yank you by wiggling around, how goofy yet cute you looked in that puffy coat, scarf over your face. He licked over his complex set of fangs, lust filled his thoughts and caused his dick to stiffen, all four eyes on you.

Ryomen Sukuna, he was called, steps out the shadows that you childishly feared, watching the small footprints and stepping over them with his own, seeing how he covers the whole space. You're so small. He could just—

He creeps up closer to you as you examine your flowers, lazily tossing the ones you don't like, cotton tail mindlessly twitching under that coat. He only had on an all black kimono with a rusted red color cloak over, walking in socks and flip flops, you dressed for some fashion show. You didn't even notice the sounds of breathing getting louder, nor did you hear the soft sounds of snow behind you getting crushed.

Dumb rabbit, he snickers to himself.

It took you a while to finally pick up something, your nose twitching and ears perking up again, bobbing slightly. You turn around to see not a soul behind you. You look in the trees; bare, nothing to hide. At least from what you can see. You shrug it off for now thinking it maybe was another bunny, or a birdie.

Sukuna wasn't even phased or worried you'd catch him, folding his four arms over his bulky build with confidence that he has hidden himself well enough to keep an eye on you. You, his future sex toy and minx.

You kept hearing the sounds more after that little conflict, turning around faster. This time, your eyebrows knitted together. You glance around again, gripping your flowers in your small hands. You turn around back to your destination, walking a bit faster.

He couldn't help but notice it. You might've noticed you were being watched or followed. He speeds up with you, matching your stride in the mask of the dark woods. The sounds mingle with yours, side eyeing every tree and bush to check anxiously. The idea of being followed made you pout.

The one time you stay out as the sun set, this happens.

You speed up a little more, sweating a bit even in the cold breeze and snow around. You now feel something dangerous near you, you can easily feel someone is near you, and it doesn't sit well. Like whoever—whatever is following you wants you to know that it's here. And oh, he does now want you to know, that fear makes you look so delicious, and not like he would normally look at prey.

He might wanna eat you in a whole different way that will last and effect you over and over.

"h-hey!" You meekly shout out, stuttering stupidly and taking a cowardice stance, looking so adorable scared, ears pressed down on your head. What were you shouting at? No idea. Where were you shouting to? Also no idea. You just wanted to hear someone.

You would be dumb to say 'is someone there' as there just had to be, eyes dewy as you scan the area. You grip your flowers. A faint growl, or laugh, echos from the forest behind the trees, somewhere in there. It sounded deep, grouchy, and... Soothing. Now you know someone is in there, your fear spikes. Someone was following you, just an innocent bunny with a passion for flowers in the snow.

"little bunny," a tall and dark figure emerges from the dark, and what immediately catches your attention is the four arms, many marks and odd lines across his face and wrist (what you can see) of the man.

Man? No, no, no. You gave it another look, seeing the bushy and huggable, large pink tail swooshing behind him, spiky ears at attention as four eyes gaze deep into you. The way he looks makes you shiver alone. You back away out of instinct, not that stupid to be oblivious to ths clear situation that this was a predator in front of you, you—the most common prey. His emotionless stare finally turns into something, something sinister. He smirks at you, raising an eyebrow with his arms (all of them) folded over his chest.

Your eyes widen while you stare, your cotton tail being your biggest give away with how it trembles. You drop your flowers.

"strip." His voice booms in the night forest, keeping his mocking eyes on your fretful small figure.

What? Did he just— "huh...?" You manage to stagger out words. He told you to strip? You don't even know his name. You're an innocent rabbit, that's what you're known for, right? Why would he want to play around with you?

Sukuna finds no amusement in your questioning and why you're not moving that small body. "I said strip. Get naked."

You dumbfoundedly blink. "but I don't know y—a-ahhh!"

Your protest were cut off by the swift movement of one of his large hands going to yank you near him with your bunny ears, making them stand up. The sound you made cause his cock to stir and leak, never getting so turned on by any hybrid, let alone a weak bunny. But you were so cute. He bends down to your height, claws starting to tear your coats buttons. "I'm Sukuna, bunny. Let me know your name and let's get this out the way so I could start breeding you."

Breeding you? Him, breeding you? He was so tall and big compared to you, a dainty and petite little creature, and you never been bred before.

"n-no, let go of me!" You try to move your hands to grab his large ones tugging at your ears, but you forgot he has another pair of arms, one gripping both your wrist and using them to yank you into the cold snow. You wince when your bum makes contact with the cold ground, cotton tail buried into your coat and snow.

"I thought I asked for your name, dumb rabbit." He says while shredding your coat, making you gasp as your skin comes in contact with the cold airy snow, shivering.

You stutter out your name feebly over the feeling of the cold. He yanks off your legs warmers and scarf, at least neatly pulling down your panties and unclipping your bra. "Are you cold, cutie?" He whispers into your ear, pressing your body onto his heat. You nod into the strangers chest, feeling his clothes against your naked body.

Sukuna removes his cloak and wraps it around you, the thing like a blanket. You blink up at him, lashes coated with sweet unleashed tears. He chuckles at the sight of your dewy eyes, pouty soft lips and weak state. The power dynamic he feels... is so intoxicating. Oh, he's never been harder.

He abruptly flips you, making you go on all fours. If it wasn't for the cloak, you would've felt the cold snow way easier and it would hurt at some point. "Please... Let me go—" you get cut off again, squealing when he lifts your ass up by your cotton tail, you lower body off the ground while your top is still in contact. It stings slightly... "S-Sukuna!" You whimper.

Sukuna tilts his head at a 90 degree angel, examining your pussy after lifting his cloak up. "You don't mean it. You're a creamy mess. Please." He mocks you, landing a very aggressive hit on your right ass cheek. The impact immediately leaves large red handprint, making those unshed tears start to roll out your eyes. Sukuna smiles at the victory of making you start squealing and squirming.

He lets you go from your tail, knees landing on the ground with a thud. "You're such a whore bunny." He tsk. "Can you at least take two cocks?"

That wasn't a question. That was like a warning.

"t-two?" You stutter, baffled.

That's when you feel a small poke on your thigh and one near your exposed and wet pussy. Oh God, you knew he wasn't human, but is he even a hybrid? "Did I stutter? Who cares, you'll handle me if I'm fucking you, heh." He sadistically chuckles.

He keeps you in the position, having your back arched for him. His tail sways at the sight with a smirk of your ass, red from little smacks and pussy wet and messy. He rubs the tip of his thick fingers rub against your slit, playing with your folds. You whimper from the sudden touch, yet wiggle your hips away. He wasn't having any of that, "keep still, you whore bunny." He barks out the order, glaring at you, even if you can't see how cold his four eyes are on you, you can feel the heat of them.

He has his way with your sweet pussy, rubbing your clit until two fingers sunk into your hole, stretching deep in and feeling around to see if he'll hit a spot to purposefully make you scream. He starts to curl his fingers near your g-spot, teasing you. You push your hips back only to find how he uses one of his four arms to ground you. You whine, sounding frustrated, but know better than to be bratty from how he spanked you.

Sukuna begins to pump his fingers faster, kneeling down and watching how wet his palm is becoming, watching the creamy liquid coat his two digits. He barely gives you time to adjust before he puts another finger into you, trying to stretch you out but get an orgasm out of you.

"o-oh, fuck, right there, yes yes, touch m-" your eyes roll back, back dramatically arched yet so perfect for him. He cocks an eyebrow and starts to go faster, the inhuman pace making the nastiest of sounds you can't believe it's your pussy squelching like that.

"oh, so you do like it?" He scoffs, almost speaking in differently from your little fit. He watches as your wetness soaked him and listened to the sounds of 'pat, pat, pat!!' and lewd swishing sounds.

"m' gonna, gonna c-cum! M' cumming—" You babble on uselessly until you cream around his skilled fingers, the milky liquid making a mess, the cloak below you now getting a taste of your arousal. Sukuna watches you unravel under him, your toes curling and legs jolting, struggling to keep that pretty arch.

"atta girl, such a pretty mess."

He gives you no time to readjust to relaxing from your recent orgasm, he already positioned himself behind you, sitting on his knees.

Sukuna quickly begins to stroke his cock lazily, leaving his second cock neglected for now. He only presses his tip against your cunt.

You find yourself with your back forcefully arched by one large hand pressing you down, face in his cloak, feeling his wet tip teasing your cunt and sliding to meet your clit. Every touch makes you jolt, tears still coming. "'kuna..." you sob uselessly, gripping the cloak below you. Your cotton tail twitches with every smack he lands on your ass, making it red and marked his. He snickers before leaning his crushing weight onto you, voice in your ear. "What is it, bunny?" He flashes his sharp fangs, grazing your shoulder.

"gimmie..."

The simple word let's him know what you mean. He leaned back, a throaty and degrading laugh rumbling in his chest. "You were begging for me to stop, right? Now someone can't wait for it?"

Despite his words and acting like he wasn't going to give you what you wanted, he lazily strokes his cock before he angles it up with your awaiting cunt. For all of his rough manhandling and groping, he was actually trying to make sure his tip could at least sink in before he started to completely ruin you. He could hear the sounds of you struggling, which honestly only disappointed him because he wasn't even using any force. Was he going to have to baby you?

Finally, he gets to sink half of his length inside of that sticky and warm mess, groaning at the satisfaction of feeling you around him. You were so tiny and tight, it was a perfect combination for someone like him who just wanted his cock to be strangled by the perfect cunt.

Your thighs quiver, the new feeling of some monstrous size deep inside. You never had it this good, pussy so full of cock your juices dripped out because there was no room. Your eyes shut, trying to stop your cunt from fluttering deliciously around him.

"wan' it?" He asks teasingly, more like tormenting, grabbing a good amount of flesh from your plump ass. You nod frantically, wanted to see what it feels like to have someone this big, let alone have two cocks this big. Your answer doesn't surprise him much, it only took a few minutes and you were already on his side. "Then work for it. Fuck yourself on my cock."

You whined into the cloak, feeling hot and sweaty besides the cold weather outside. You slowly shifted your body forward, rocking against the ground and your knees, making his cock pop out. You back it up on him, feeling him hit your cervix as he sinks into your inviting pussy once again. You couldn't help but moan and shudder every time you could feel your cervix being threatened to be broken.

You took advantage of this small moment of control, making sure you moved your hips slowly off of his cock, a small sticky coating sound filling your ears with more possible lewd thoughts. You needed time to adjust.

Sukuna groans, feeling proud of you. He playfully tapped your ass with a smirk, watching your body rock back and forth against his cock. "Atta girl, fuck, you got it." He taps your ass more, loving how it jiggles and all the redness left over from his spankings.

You continue to fuck yourself into him like a toy, but you were going slowly. It was all too big, you could feel him so wrongly. It was absolutely sinful. It felt raw, so raw that it burnt if you made his cock stroke your insides wrong.

He groans again, but this time it was because he was frustrated. Why did you have to go so slow?

"Can't you speed up?" His hands travel up to the back of your neck, his middle finger pressing hard against your nape. Your ears fold down to your skull again, and you could tell this groan wasn't something good. You try to turn your head to look back at him, the way you pout and look for validation for your work was so cute. The way your ears will shrink down because he sounded disappointed, how your cotton tail was moving.

"I knew I shouldn't leave things to slutty rabbit like you." He places two hands on your hips. He snaps his hips forward into yours, causing your body to lifelessly bounce forward from his force.

"N-ngh, hmph!" You muffle your moans, your eyes finally opening once again as you feel the pleasure and pain.

Sukuna grinned at the sight, not wasting any time to finally get his second dick wet. He grabbed his other cock and quickly spreaded his precum all over the length of him before he was able to slide into your anus without any warning. The double penetration left you moaning, sobbing, and whimpering. You tried to move your hips away from him, feeling as his thrust slowly started to get more aggressive.

"Nuh-uh, bunny. Stay here, be a good girl." he delivers another painful smack against your ass for trying to run away from his cock, literally.

Your body kept jolting forward with every calculated and painful thrust of his cock deep inside, stroking your G-spot repetitively, making you see stars. You tried to grip onto the cloak below you, desperately needing something to hold for comfort. You couldn't help but feel so weak, you had a monster above you. You were just a tiny little bunny.

"s-slow doowwnn..." you whine, raising your head up so your voice could be heard, even if most of it was just incohesive noise and moaning, blabbers of his name like a chant.

Your request fall to deaf ears. He was too engrossed with how amazing your cunt was sucking him back in, your anus, and the view of such a tiny little bunny below him.

You feel a familiar knot building up inside of your stomach, and you can feel yourself slowly starting to ruin your perfect arch. Again, it was like you were trying to run away from the cocks. Your anus felt so full, you never had anything up there, not even your own fingers. You never knew how amazing good feel to have two holes occupied.

There was just one difference.

It felt so much more intense than a normal orgasm. You couldn't tell what was going to happen, for a second you felt like you had to pee. Your cunt started to spasm aggressively; never had Sukuna felt someone so eager to cum (unless it was rut season), and he fucked many hybrids.

You couldn't even process any words, no sort of warning came out. The only thing that did come out was a long gush of clear, sticky liquid absolutely ruining his happy trail and pelvis. Oh, and his cock? Soaked.

His eyes widen in shock, yet he was so proud of you in his own twisted ways. He rubbed over your sore ass, a smile if that was almost full of disbelief that you just squirted all over him like that. "You just squirted on me, slutty girl."

He most definitely has to make fun of you.

"little messy bunny, pussy just felt so good had to tap out?"

You find a good grip onto the cloak below you that was now soaked in your squirt. Your little cunnie continued to pleasure his cock, your very inexperienced anus getting abused, mind just full of his name and his cock, your sensitive body going crazy, making your toes curl. Your bunny ears perk up, voice desperate as you keep trying to run away from his cock—

"you can't just stay fuckin' still?" He growls and presses his hand hard on your back, breaking your arch and making your knees fumble, having you pressed flushed against the cloak, the cold ground more evident to your skin. He leans his weight over you, cocks still finding a way to work into both holes.

"'kuna, p-please, no—no more, no more..." you cry out, rosey and cute cheeks stained with tears.

"sh, just take my cocks. Take 'em, cum all over me." His tone almost changed and he gazed at how helpless you look, feeling an urge to... Bite you. He leaned more of his weight on top of you, making your eyes shot open—how close can he get? His fluffy tail comes around and wraps you up near him, fur tickling your sides. He allows his tail to slip under your body—he lifted you up real quick—and held you close.

He fucked into you with more focus now, focused on you. Those moans and how you were so small under him, he felt the power and the urge to bite you, make you cry, cream, squirt, beg, to protect you... Yeah, he wants you. So bad.

Sukuna growls lowly, his breathing becoming more heavy, what you can only assume as a sign he's close to cumming. He stiffens his cocks into both your holes, filling them both at the same time, his steamy seed flowing in white ropes in you, making you shudder. He filled you deep; his plans to breed you to keep you closer to him.

You limped like a doll on the cloak, naked and cummed stuffed in you. Sukuna's large hand runs down your body and grabs you cotton tail again, lifting your ass up, your lower body propped up for his eyes. You didn't even make much of a fuss, only muttering "m' so full 'kuna..."

He watches his cum leaking out your two used holes, seeing how much he stretched them out from his ministrations. He unwraps his tail from your body, which was once warm and the cold air ruined it, and he pulled you to him. He grabbed his cloak, your juices all over it, and wrapped it around your nude body.

"you enjoyed it? See, now all that fuckin' fighting was useless." He coos as he walked you away from the sex scene, his cum trailing down your thighs and dripping in the snow. All you do is nod on response, nuzzling into his chest. He looks down at your lazy state, looking fucked out after all of that fun.

"you'll come with me bunny. I'll eat my cum out at my place."

˚꩜⋆.°⭑Do not copy, translate, or steal in any way, reblogs are appreciated and allowed

Should I make this a series? I wanna start a series so baaad

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #ryomen smut #ryomen x you #hybrid #bunny girl #wolf boy #subby bunny #kaizyn drabble

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m-ayo-o · 2 months

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thinking of husband Kento who makes his wife cum from spanking <3

He started it as a punishment but when he realised how much his slutty little wife was loving this attention he started rubbing your pussy and spanking you simultaneously. It made for quite the head fuck, but when he bent you over his knee and you started squirming and creaming your panties he couldn't stop.. he just hand to make you cum right through them.

He saw a pool of slick building, making your panties stickier and wetter with every spank, so he just did it harder and harder till your little body started trembling, his handprints all over your ass, pussy messy and leaking.

"Aw, we're gonna have to find a different punishment now, sweetheart."

He coos between smacking you and sliding his fingers over the sodden pool in your panties.

"N-no-no--" you beg shamefully, but he's already made up his mind.

"Mm, you're soaked, princess..." he tuts and pulls at your pussy.

Ugh, what a mess you've made.

"But--b-but Ken- Kento~"

"Yes, honey?"

"mm-- m gunna... gunna.. uh---"

"I know, mm, just this once... I'll let you cum like this."

And he spanks and rubs you through it, getting you off with his hands, helping you ride it out by grabbing on your ass and grinding you over his thick fingers.

"You did it, sweetie," he coos and squeezes your cheeks, "came through your panties for me.."

And he swears if you didn't spill that coffee on his shirt earlier he'd be telling you how proud his is before ripping those panties open and licking you clean.

However, because you did make a mess on him before work, and because you are such a clumsy little slut, he decides to tie your wrists to the bedframe with his suit tie.

Before he strips.

Jacket off, braces off, shirt off...

He watches you drown in lust and squeeze your thighs at the sight of him, making him smirk.

"Calm down, sweetheart."

And he pulls down his pants and boxers, proceeding to tug himself off in front of you, deciding that this can be your new punishment until you somehow learn to cum to the sight of him alone.

He's sure if anyone could manage it, it would be you.

kento

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #18+ content #female reader #nanami drabbles #kento nanami #nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #hubby kento

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cream-stew · 7 months

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How about monsterfcking with Neuvillette? Him in his dragon form pounding and breeding reader's pussy until his cum leaks out and when Neuvillette saw his cum leaking out he tries to push it back in using his thick fingers but it just won't stay inside, a lot of his cum wasted so he fucked Reader full again with a new batch of cum and cockwarmed him after their down<3

(What if after they have sex, Neuvillette carries Reader to the bathroom to clean both of them and Neuvillette still inside of Reader but ended up fucking when Neuvillette and Reader are inside of the bathtub)

Sorry if my grammar is wrong! English is my third language hehe and I'm still learning

🔞minors dni

warnings: afab reader, breeding, creampie, multiple orgasms, squirting, tummy bulge, size kink, mosterfucking

// note: no worries anon I could understand perfectly <3 thank you for the request this was fun

he's bigger than you even in his more human form, but like this, arms and legs covered in light blue scales, thick horns crowning his head, he's just. huge. straight up huge. he has you in a mating press and your face can barely reach his pecs, your legs can't even hook on his shoulders, they're ramrod straight as he grips your ankles in his big hands.

his cock is a really tight fit too... your pussy is stretched to the limit as he pounds into you, leaving you gaping each time he pulls out before slamming back inside with full force. now you can really understand why he decided to fuck you on the floor this time, putting down soft blankets and pillows so that you'd still be comfortable, but simply refusing to do it on the bed: he would have destroyed it in minutes, his strength and stamina in his half dragon form is insane!

when he finally cums inside you, when you're well on your way to a fourth orgasm, you think maybe he'll calm down a little but nope... he just changes tactics, never pulling out completely again, bc he doesn't want his cum to leak out of you :(

he keeps fucking you with really shallow thrusts, just as fast as he did previously, praising and encouraging you to just hold on for "a little longer" bc he needs to cum again, to claim you fully and stuff your cute little pussy to the brim :(

your eyes are tearing up a lil by then, but it feels so good that you can't find it in you to complain... so you let him pump you full one, twice more, until you hear him grumble and mutter something under his breath, until his huge fingers replace his monstrous cock, trying to fuck the cum back inside you. "what a waste" he complains. in his lustful haze he doesn't understand that your pussy is way too small to hold on to all that cum, so the only solution he can find is to fuck you again...

except this time, after pounding into you so so roughly, making you squirt on his cock for who knows how many times, he doesn't pull out after cumming... he just makes you cockwarm him, thinking that there's no way it'll leak out if he keeps your pussy sealed off like that!

it's hours before he allows you to move, but he still doesn't let you go, carrying you to the bathroom with his rock hard cock still buried snugly against your cervix, an evident bulge in your tummy. he summons enough warm water to fill the tub before lowering the both of you inside, effectively making you straddle his hips as the new position allows his cock to reach even deeper inside your womb.

it'd be relaxing, the warm water soothing your sore muscles, if he didn't grab you by the hips to move you back and forth on his cock :/ he uses you like a fleshlight, bouncing you up and down and jerking off inside your pussy as you desperately clutch to his shoulders, moaning and babbling, and when he doesn't stop even after cumming one more time inside, you just accept that you're going to fall asleep in his arms, and he's probably going to keep fucking you through it until you wake up in the morning🥺🥺

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillette x reader

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kneelingshadowsalome · 4 months

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Minotaur!König x Ariadne!Reader Theseus is dead. You’re escorting the Minotaur, more beast than a man, out of the Labyrinth. The problem is, he seems to be more interested in what’s between your legs than in his mission of killing the notorious king of Crete… (12 k. Minotaur is not an actual hybrid in this fic. Reader is Hecate’s initiate. Part 1 here.) Tags/warnings: Shameless smut mdni, dubious consent, extremely possessive behaviour, abduction, first time (König & reader are both virgins), hugs & cuddles, washing blood off your monster boyfriend, awkward flirting, semi-rough sex, shifting power dynamics, sexist insults & slurs (the citizens of Crete do not approve of your choices), implied cannibalism, fluffy ending. Mythical AU.

The candle goes out before you reach the surface.

To someone else, it would be the end of the world: to you, it’s only a hindrance, a nuisance, mostly.

You’re not easily distressed. If you were, you wouldn’t be in the service of the greatest goddess of the Underworld. And you’re not mourning losing the sight of your warmly illuminated beast... You’re only worried about what he will do once the darkness descends. Whether he will forget about his vow, whether the baser instincts take over him once the darkness falls.

And darkness is not capable of making you lost: you can always follow the string in your hand. But without light, it’s difficult to predict the Bull’s moves: whether he decides to maim or fuck you against the wall, you can never tell. He hasn’t lived in the real world among people; he doesn’t know what’s right or wrong and what’s expected of him. Even the best of men can succumb to the demands of the flesh, so what power would a Bull Man have against his animal wants? No one ever taught him to respect the gods, let alone the maidens who serve them...

Then again, if a simple candle was the only thing that kept you alive, then what’s the point of lamenting the loss of it? Your life was already forfeit when you chose to descend here.

So you let it go: as always, the greatest lesson in life is to simply let go. Of control, of judgment, of fear, of hope.

He doesn’t say a thing when the light flickers, then fades. The candle goes out in silence, and you let it drop before the remaining wax burns your palm.

And it’s not the absence of light, but strength, that forces you on your knees before even an hour has passed. There’s still a long way to go, and the yarn is like a thin string of hope in your hand, but you’re too exhausted, too worn out, too hungry and too tired to go on.

The Bull Man doesn’t object to your suggestion to lay down and sleep for a while. He has walked behind you in silence the whole day. Or night… You can’t tell the difference; you lost count somewhere along the way down here. The air is stale and humid, and there’s no torch, not a single candle anywhere and even if there were, you wouldn’t do anything with them without a flint.

The horror is kept at bay only through your numerous exercises with the goddess who introduced you to darkness many, many moons ago. You were initiated during the dark Moon, the new Moon, the blood Moon, introduced to the mysteries of the maiden, mother and crone, to the secrets of both the living and the dead. You’re not afraid, but your body still warns you of danger: you just don’t know if it’s a memory from childhood or a reaction to the Bull, panting behind you – out of lust or exertion, you don’t even know. Someone who wasn’t a maiden probably could tell… At times, you curse the fact that there hasn’t been a single phallus inside you because men too possess knowledge. Taking a man into your bed would have initiated you to a different set of mysteries, but now, you are poking blind.

The Bull Man is an animal, you remind yourself. The longer you stay in his company, the more he starts to resemble a human, even if he is a man of few words. How he even remembers them is another mystery: you thought he was sent down here as a young boy. He speaks oddly but eloquently, a remnant of his noble descent, perhaps. Or perhaps he has listened to the people speaking in the Labyrinth, eavesdropped his victims an hour or two before killing them. Whatever the reason, you have to constantly tie your tongue because there’s simply no point in talking to a beast. The less you know about him and his past, the better.

You ready yourself for sleep, but the cursed cold of the tunnels keeps your body awake. Your flesh is human even if your mind is forged to withstand hunger, thirst and pain. Endurance against cold was never your strong suit, and you miss the heat of the sun, the warmth of it on your skin, even the ample light it gives. You, a lover of the moon, missing the heat of Apollo… It’s a joke, surely.

On the stone floor, it’s even colder, the rough, damp ground making your very bones ache. How on Hecate’s name has the beast survived this place?

“Bull Man,” you speak into the darkness, thick like an impenetrable wall and thin like a virgin’s veil.

“Maiden,” he echoes with a dark, low growl, slightly amused by the name you’ve selected for him.

“Are you cold?” You whisper.

Perhaps he doesn’t quite understand the question or why you asked it. It doesn’t matter: you have to swallow your pride and ask for his help if you’re going to survive this dark prison.

“I don’t get cold,” he finally responds.

“Good. I need your heat.”

The silence drags on, and you fear he has misunderstood you again, but then he speaks again, with the same slightly amused tone as before.

“Come take it.”

You’re not sure if you’ve completely lost your mind, crawling to him through the uneven floor of the Labyrinth. Who knows what he will do to you once he gets those arms of iron around you? You’re placing your maidenhood, your whole body at his mercy. And you’re not even sure if it’s a he, if this thing is human at all.

Human or animal, your hand meets the bull’s head on the way to him. He has taken it off, then... It’s not a part of him, just like you suspected. Maybe he is just a giant, daunting man, born from whatever forbidden desire Pasiphae had. Who knows if she only went to a foreign lover’s arms when her husband was at war? Who knows if King Minos has trouble getting his phallus up… These things happen: women get pregnant from their lovers, they do desperate things to pacify their husbands. And you don’t need a bull to get yourself an heir...

You feel his heat before you feel his skin: the Minotaur is verily blazing. He has gotten used to the cold, it seems, his body like a small bonfire in the clammy tunnel.

“Cold little female,” he comments when you snuggle towards him shyly, thoroughly aware of the uninviting chill of your body.

You settle next to him, every muscle in your body tight like a bowstring, your breaths shallow when he gives you a welcoming rumble. Goosebumps prickle across your skin and your throat goes dry, the thick swallow in the tunnel echoing around you like a thief.

Arms like iron go around you, and his body is taut, just like yours, but for a whole different reason entirely. He’s not afraid or nervous; he’s just… big. Pure muscle, his whole body thick, the stock and heat of him remind you of the sun. A miniature sun down here in these dark tunnels, but while you start to slowly soften in his arms, a different threat is already emerging. It doesn’t take long before his cock stiffens against you, and with the scarce clothing you both have, you can feel its every excited twitch.

Artemis… Protect me from this beast. Turn him into a dog if he tries to penetrate me. Let him rip my throat instead…

You’ve never prayed to the Virgin Goddess; you don’t know if she can even hear you from down here. But Hecate would only laugh if this Bull decided to breed you. No mercy would arrive from that direction: she would either send a disease of blisters upon the Minotaur for touching her chosen or then she would cackle like an old woman, thousand times raped.

“Thank you,” you whisper, hoping your kindness will distract him from what’s happening downstairs.

“My pleasure,” he grumbles, mimicking the words he probably heard as a child in his father’s great hall.

It sends a chill down your spine and butterflies into your heart to hear him speak like a polite man of court. And again, you think of asking him about his childhood... His mother, his father, the things he remembers from the surface. How he survived here without water, if there are underground springs here somewhere. Whether he eats humans like they say... If he ever embraced the dead women he killed.

“Can you do it again,” he rumbles against you, cutting you away from your grotesque thoughts.

“...Do what again?”

“Touch me… With your hand.”

His words are blunt now, his speech clumsy. But the way he says it is not an order. It’s an odd beg, more like. Laced with hope and wishes far away from greed. This Bull is never greedy, per se… He’s just lacking. Starved, for so many things that you fear there’s not enough time nor kindness to give him what he needs.

Your pulse flutters when you slowly lift your hand and caress the strong cords of muscle that make his neck. The rumbling returns; it turns into a low purr as the beast relaxes under your touch. Something softens inside you when he sighs from relief. His unbridled happiness tugs at your heart, trying to yank open something forbidden. It’s the softest violation you’ve ever felt: to be held by a giant killer having a roaring erection, while the said killer clearly enjoys your caress like it’s the touch of Aphrodite herself…

You even stroke his face. His jaw, unclenching under your touch; his cheek, covered with what you suppose is simply a wild, overgrown beard.

“Your hand,” he groans softly, “makes me sleepy and warm…”

The cold, uncaring goddess recedes. The burdens of past, present and future dissolve. Softness takes place in your heart; the iron locks give in like brittle brass. A smile plays on your lips as you continue to pet him softly, lulling you both to sleep with your voice.

“Then sleep, Bull of Crete...”

…

You wake up to his cock pressing against you.

Not against your stomach like when you went to sleep – that you could do with – but against your cunt, barely veiled by the thin linen of your dress.

The panic is soon wrestled down with reason: you tell yourself it’s just a cock. It’s just him. You’re simply in the Minotaur’s arms, and he’s sound asleep still; there’s no reason to buck and jerk and scream.

The darkness feels like a safe womb now, but with nothing to lock your gaze to, you have to take a moment to ground yourself into reality. And the first thing you ground into is a thick cockhead, pressing fast into your nether lips. He’s practically at the gates, and you’re lucky he’s still asleep.

It’s perhaps your fault this happened in the first place: you notice you’ve dragged your thigh over his hip; as if wanting him to fuck you in your sleep… You embrace him like Helen of Troy, and he holds you through his sleep like a man in love, perfectly content with napping on the cold ground with you.

“Mm…” The beast stirs, probably noticing how the female in his arms is tense as a rod. “You smell like you want to fuck…”

“No I don’t,” you hurry to whisper.

Gods curse this man’s ability to smell everything from miles away. Blood and humans and, apparently, a woman at her most receptive.

What if he can actually smell the wetness between your legs?

“We need to go,” you slowly remove your leg from on top of his waist, hoping it would go unnoticed that you were clutching him like a lover. You have no such luck: he grabs your thigh and draws it back, sets it safe and snug around his waist while adjusting his grip on you, now hugging you entirely like a lover would.

“I want to mate with you,” he says softly. “You want to mate too. Why go?”

He sounds so adorable when he’s still in the process of waking up to a new day. Drowsy and sweet, voice husky from sleep, body warm as can be, the hard-on between his legs happy and stiff.

“I thought you wanted to kill the king,” you try to point out.

“This is more important,” he gruffs. “Urgent.”

The cock pushes further up and against you, now spreading your folds under the dress, trying to penetrate into your heat. Your eyes go wide as thick need pools down to meet his greed. His body, his cock makes your head go dull for a moment; you feel like you’re not even capable of thinking actual thoughts.

“No, it’s not. We need to get up.”

You stiffen in his arms, push yourself away, and to your surprise, he actually lets you go. Reluctantly and with a hollow grunt, but he lets you go.

You rise with a wobble, and adjust your dress, your head spinning from his advances. You swear he becomes more man-like every day, every passing hour, even. Or is it just you who’s changing…?

The Bull Man is up before you get to ponder on that thought for too long. Your heart and head struggle to find their footing for a moment, your legs are so weak you feel like fainting. He catches you before you fall, the warm, thick arms closing around you with stout affection.

“You need more heat?” He asks softly.

You look up out of habit, even if you can't see his eyes, covered by the carcass again because his voice is muffled.

“No… I’m hungry.”

He’s silent for a moment, probably thinking what he could do to help the situation. You fear he will suggest you go back to visit his “pantry” and eat whatever horrible, half-rotten man-flesh he might have in store there, but he only holds you close to prevent you from sliding back to the ground.

“Hmm. No mice up here,” he ponders.

“You eat mice…?”

“Sometimes.”

You leave it at that: you don’t want to know what he’s had to do to sustain himself down here. You don’t even have a fire to cook the vermin, even if you would be ready to eat even those after another day or two without food.

“Not a long way up,” he says. “We will reach the sun soon. Then I’ll find you something to eat.”

“How do you know that…?”

“The air smells different.”

You sigh and search for the string, your lifeline to the outside world. You can’t wait to get out of here, and with both hurry and an odd dread, you hike for what seems like another whole day. Tension, hunger and thirst distort your thoughts, and you’re sure by now that the time flows differently here in the Underworld. With no small amount of pride, you feel accomplished to have survived this place so far. Even gods have had to do some tricks to escape the nether worlds: it is no small feat to charm the Minotaur and then walk out of here unharmed.

To your knowledge, you’re the only one who has ever escaped the Labyrinth. You haven’t even had time to think about what you will unleash with you… The demon that walks on your heels will take his revenge, not only on the king but on the city who threw him here.

Well. It’s their problem now. Minos and Pasiphae simply have to deal with their successor. The world will simply have to deal with the Underworld’s wrath.

And oh, how Hecate would laugh if she saw this monster prince of Crete escape his prison because of you – the feared Minotaur set free, only because he’s mesmerized by a woman. You suspect he would have his cock jumping for any girl, though. It's not because you're an exceptional sorceress that he follows you: it's your cunt he's after. And it shouldn’t make you feel jealous that he probably gets distracted the moment he sees a better offer walk by.

But it does. In your darkest wishes, you would keep the Bull Man all to yourself. Get him a leash, perhaps... Feed him with your own hands and let him grope you in the dark, watch him go wild from lust when you finally give him access to your cunt.

Many would hardly think you’re a virgin if they took a peek inside your head. But the things you’ve seen and done, the white bulls you’ve slaughtered for the dark Goddess, adorning them with cypress wreaths before slashing their throats open, would turn any woman bleak and twisted like this. For once, you would like to save the bull from slaughter.

When you see the first evidence of light, your body lets out a sigh it has been holding ever since you arrived here. Seeing the sun gives you more strength than any food or meal, and you pick up your pace while the Minotaur behind you begins to hesitate.

“It’s too bright,” he says before you’ve even walked out of the tunnel, now turning into a vast cave, the entrance to the Labyrinth.

You turn around to look and stop in your tracks when you see the fear in his eyes is acute. It’s mixed with wonder, the curiosity wrestling away doubt slowly but surely. He only needs a little nudge, a gentle pull, an enticing little smile and eyes that he can trust.

“You’ll get used to it soon,” you extend your hand.

He takes a step, then another, then another, until he reaches your outstretched fingers, and hand in hand you walk out of the Labyrinth and into the bright morning sun, burning over the kingdom of Crete.

He’s only a breath away from panicking, but covers it well. You wonder if it’s truly the light that’s too bright or if the feeling of being so exposed is what makes him so afraid. Clearly, the vast space opening up before him is intimidating.

There are grassy plains as far as the eye can see, little hills that dot the horizon, and skies so expansive and bright it must hurt his eyes. Goats are grazing under the sun, trees are bending in the wind, the rustling of leaves and the sound of birds calling him to look in all directions as he tries to make some sense of his surroundings.

“It’s alright,” you give his palm a soft squeeze, and the way he looks there under the sun, so big and powerful and able, and still so utterly lost, is giving you heartache you haven’t known since you were a child.

“There’s… so many colours,” he says, looking at the blue summer sky, the deep olive greens, the dirty whiteness of the goats, the flowers upon the grass. A butterfly, flying past, yellow like the citrus that people harvest from a few miles from here. A big blackbird with an orange beak, swooping down to catch a cricket, the slate grey pigeons flying so close to the sun that he has to shield his eyes even if they’re already safe and sheltered under the bull head.

Seeing his wonder and awe makes you look at the scenery so differently that it burns, it actually hurts: there’s so much beauty in the world, and you have always taken it for granted. Cursed the rain and the storms, cursed the droughts, cursed the gods for sending down another famine, when in truth, the world was filled with abundance, of colours, of life and joy… And all you’ve done is worship darkness. Now the darkness is out: it’s standing next to you, watching the view of your mundane everyday life like it’s nothing short of a miracle.

And when you turn back to look at him again, his eyes are upon you.

“What?” You ask, freshly caught in your moment of weakness.

“You are pretty,” he says, eyes wrinkling with delight under the mask.

Gods damn him…

He doesn’t know that human men don’t act like this, talk like this, or if they do, there’s usually something vile involved behind it all. He doesn’t know how to play games, he was never introduced to the lies and deceit of the world.

The Bull of Crete only looks at you with soft fondness in his stare – he doesn’t understand that he should cover that softness as well if he intends to win. Any woman could put a leash on him before another moon has passed, but he doesn’t seem to care. And it’s not even heat or hunger that makes you weak this time... It’s those eyes, looking at you with more and more warmth.

“Nonsense,” you huff without a voice, and turn towards the old road with an adoring bull on your heels.

The cold sigh of the underworld is quickly left behind you as you walk up the old carriage road, nearly grown in with weeds. The Labyrinth is located miles away from civilization, but the people living in these hills are used to the cold cave by now. They trust that the Minotaur will never escape and only turn away their heads and close the doors of their huts when the screaming, crying human sacrifices are delivered to the mouth of the cave. Little do they know that the monster is now looking at their little hills and goats with delight, not bloodlust.

For the Minotaur is fascinated with your world: he has to touch every leaf, every tree, every blade of grass, it seems. The goats are afraid of him, but one small nanny is bold enough to come and sniff his hand. Perhaps it remembers that beings walking on two feet give her apples sometimes, and the giant studies this small white animal with gentle curiosity, allows the goat to smell his hand, only chuckles when the goat gives out a little scoff when she notices there are no treats to be found there.

The vision is more adorable than when you’ve seen children play with kittens, and no matter what you do, you can’t turn your heart into ice anymore. You were taught that the Minotaur is a monster who enjoys torturing his victims, creatures far more helpless than him. Now you see him watching the she-goat with warm curiosity, rumbling softly inside his helm, far from the ravaging beast that approached you in that tunnel what seems like months ago.

You watch him with tender sadness as he marvels at the sky and remembers how he used to sit in the shade of an olive tree when he was a child. He goes to sit there now and examines how the sun filters through the massive branches of the tree as if trying to recall the memory.

He asks questions like: “How can you humans stand this heat?” or “Why is there only one road?” and listens to your answers carefully.

He says he can smell the sea, even if the salty water is miles and miles away, and gets curious about what’s behind that hill, or that one, what about that one… You wonder if he’s even interested in killing the king anymore and suggest that he could just forget about this cruel place and buy himself a sea voyage with that expensive sword. He could get rid of his helmet and ask if anyone needs a goat herd or an able-bodied man to help at construction sites or stables; he could get work from the docks any day, sail to Athens or some other big city, forge himself a new life.

But he doesn’t want to.

He says he has to avenge his mother who always cried when he was little.

More wretched tugs pull at your heart as you approach the city. The lovely summer’s day turns into a nightmare once people see who’s on his way to the heart of Crete.

You don’t understand their screams, not anymore, while only a few days ago you knew they preceded death. The Minotaur doesn’t kill anyone, mainly because he doesn’t have to. Everyone flees before his wake, people rush to their homes and bar the doors, even soldiers slip away to be with their loved ones or run to warn the king if they have any loyalty left.

You’re left to walk through the marketplace in settling dust and tense silence as the Bull Man explores the abundant samples of food on display. He has to have a taste of everything from all stands, but only after he has offered figs, olives, grain, grapes, grilled meat and fish to you first.

“Eat,” he says and shoves a handful of pine seeds your way. “You were hungry?”

“This is not the way to–” you ignore the food only through sheer willpower. “This is not right. People own these things. They sell them at the market, you need to pay for these.”

“Pay? With what?”

He looks at you for a moment, unable to recall what money is and how these things are supposed to work. He probably had his mother’s servants bring him everything he needed as a child anyway, so how could he know?

“They will take your hands for stealing,” you try to explain with softly building despair.

“I will take their heads before that.”

“The next king will hunt you down and punish you,” you rush after him, and when he won’t listen, you seize his hand and finally get him to halt. He looks down at the weak palm around his wrist, then raises his gaze to you.

“Bulls don’t have kings.”

Your attempts to tame him are futile. The things they’ve taught him to be are now being used as a way to escape responsibility, and while it’s none of your business, you refuse to let him believe that he is nothing more than an animal.

“You are not a bull,” you wail in frustration. “You’re a man.”

He hesitates, only for a moment; the gentle, loving gaze makes your legs weak.

“You’re the first to think that.”

Then he rips himself away from you, softly but sternly.

He doesn’t need directions to the palace: he knows he has to head for the most prominent building in the city to reach the king. The grandiose heart of Crete, white-chalked and beautiful under the burning midday sun is the pride of every citizen, even if it houses another monster.

You sigh as you watch him go: the Bull Man, the demon of the underworld, the one you thought would rape you bloody before you get to crawl out of the Labyrinth. The fact that he wanted to kill his father more than he wanted to be born again into a new life wasn’t a surprise, but that he chose to bloody his sword rather than his cock is somehow... insulting, almost.

What actually haunts you is how your insides coil and turn when you rush back to your temple. It’s not like you thought the Minotaur would take you with him. Board some trade ship bound for distant shores, and ravage you ever so softly in the belly of the creaking hull. It’s not like you dreamed of petting him to sleep while you two embark on a new life. But the way your heart twists and wails inside your chest makes it clear that losing him is even more painful than losing Theseus and the life he promised you.

You never even wanted Theseus; you only wanted him to take you away from here. His affection would have been the result of ample witchcraft at best.

He’s practically already dead, and your heart turns to stone far more slowly than you would prefer. It’s just your luck to first have the golden hero of Greece look down on you in disdain, and then witness even the Bull Man walk away from you like you never meant anything to him. Men killing each other is the oldest story in the world, and you want no part in it, but something in this beast has stirred you awake from a long, cold slumber. It’s infuriating that you can’t dispel a simple animal from your heart. Oldest story in the book, that one, too…

But oh, how you now yearn after some cruel, lowly, dirty beast… The Minotaur already owns you, and he never even had to plunge his sword inside you to prove that. Besides, you would’ve been perfectly willing had he decided to take you on the green grass, under the vast sky, while some noisy goats graze around you. You realize that that’s what you expected to happen, and when it didn’t, you’re left more than disappointed: you're left completely hollow. You always find out these things a little too late, it seems… The Bull is headed for the palace and will likely get killed after he slaughters his cruel father. There’s at least thirty spears in that building, and more will arrive when called.

You arrive at the temple, panting and with your body flushed and weak. The maidens at the entrance share a quick glance with each other before turning their fearful gazes back to you. They’re the youngest arrivals, not even initiates yet; one of them hardly even bleeds.

“The King is dead,” you announce without bothering to even greet them, and the girls huddle up together like they’re a bunch of slaves about to get slapped.

You realize you must look like an animal with your dirty robes, dishevelled hair and your wild, alive stare. No wonder they look like they’ve seen a ghost... You basically are one, coming back from the dead like this.

“What?”

A priestess arrives at the threshold like an image of Hecate herself, dressed in robes as black as the midnight sky, but you don’t shy away from her like you used to.

“Or he will be. Soon. The Minotaur is here.”

“How did you… How did it...”

You’ve never seen the priestess in disarray. She’s always composed, cold and distant, but seeing you like the wraith that you are, freshly escaped from the Labyrinth, spat back from the bowels of the earth like the dark gods didn’t even want you there, makes even the greatest of Hecate’s servants a little uneasy.

She gathers what’s left of her dignity and finds her most commanding voice. Sadly, it doesn’t have the power to shake the ground anymore.

“Where is Theseus of Athens?”

“Disemboweled… is my best guess,” you say in a listless voice, then turn your head toward the smell of fresh fruit.

Normally, you would walk these halls with dignity, but now, you simply barge in and grab the first piece of food you find. You ought to get whipped for your insolence, but no one dares to raise a hand against you. The maids and priestesses stare in shock as you eat and drink like a starved prisoner. You’re a living Hecate in certain aspects, your arrival the first toll of the bell of doom as the palace guards sound the alarm.

So…

The Minotaur has reached the king.

…

The priestesses deem it only logical that the King finally pays for his sins: the gods have been offended by the number of human sacrifices sent to the Labyrinth, and this is their way of exacting revenge. You were only an instrument of their will.

After a quick wash and some more food, you begin to feel like a human again. The maids bring you a new chiton, flowing and white: your old clothes are burned in a brazier as if that would help you forget.

And this might be the only place you don’t get blamed for unleashing a monster. You were at a crossroads with the Minotaur, and anyone would have done the same: try to talk him out of his killing spree, calm him down, entice him with a gift. No one expected that the beast could even speak, so your approach was unusual, perhaps, but it worked. Hecate guided you through the tunnels, even when the candle went out, she stilled the Bull’s loins until you reached the sunlight where the beast got distracted with other things. You leave out the Minotaur's attraction to birds, bees and butterflies because your story is unbelievable enough as it is.

But the Minotaur will be slain after he has done his deed: Minos is the one who should be punished, not the city of Crete. And it is only just to put down this beast, a mercy.

So when he appears between the pillars of temple, this time wholly covered in blood, people are bound to scream. Even the priestesses who are used to seeing blood, shriek like widows when the Minotaur steps inside the holy shrine of Hecate.

“Where is the maiden of the crossroads?”

He came back for you, after all…

The boom of his voice is familiar, and yet, you cower on the bench when you hear it. The Minotaur sounds like he’s an envoy of Hades himself, and while you’re not among those who scream and yell, it still sends shivers down your spine to hear him speak like that.

Or is it the excitement, a tiny flame of hope that makes you quiver like this?

“We all belong to the goddess,” someone peeps, the Minotaur now descending down the stairs.

The massive head turns, gaze like razor sweeping across the marbled shrine. You’re so far back that he can’t catch you, sitting behind many bodies and faces, and before you can force yourself to rise, the main priestess, the oldest, most crooked of the crones, steps forth to meet this beast.

“This is a House of Hecate,” she speaks. “No man is allowed to enter unless they are Death.”

The black carcass turns, but the priestess doesn’t waver. If anything, her spine turns into unbreakable metal before this man’s gaze.

“I am Death,” he says, far more gently than anyone would expect. Then he walks past the crone like she’s just a harmless elder. No one does a thing, because even the head of your temple is powerless now.

“She had a red string and a candle. Where is she?”

He grabs the first woman he sees, and you rise up before he decides it’s time to thrust his blade into someone to loosen the tongues of these women.

“Please,” you take a hesitant step towards your Bull. “I’m here... I’m the one you’re looking for.”

The Minotaur lets go of the frightened initiate the instant he sees you. She’s shoved aside with little interest, the blue eyes behind the corpse now solely fixed on you. The way they soften into hazy ice makes your knees weak – that’s the stare of someone who recognizes their loved one among a thick, dull crowd…

“Come with me,” he extends a hand when he reaches you, strong legs swallowing tiles like he’s in a hurry to get back to you. You open your mouth, close it, and look at his hand, the rough, enormous palm held out for you to place your own little hand in.

“You belong to me,” he says with great weight when you don’t speak. It should spark the ire of the goddess for him to dare to talk to you like this… But mostly, your body sings. It tells you to take a step and take his hand: to let him have you, once and for all.

“My place is here,” you utter, all power gone from your voice. All your dreams, all your fears are offering their hand to you with his, and the maidens, mothers and crones of this hall look upon your exchange with the Bull Man in stupefied silence.

“You were sent down to me,” he presses on. “You are mine now. You belong to me.”

Your body is singing, singing, singing.

It’s not a request… Or a proposal.

It’s a god, taking what’s his.

…

You swallow with nothing in your throat and look at the head priestess with helpless misery: she looks back with the eyes of a noxious Medusa, wholly dispassionate to the problems you brought upon yourself. And what could she even do? She’s unarmed against the claims of Hades: Death is now in love with you, and there’s nothing you or anyone else can do about it.

He doesn’t want to stay in the city, as enchanting as it is, saying that it stinks and that he’s tired of the screams. No one wants him here; he already knows that, and the task he was meant to do is done. He doesn’t seem to be much moved by it either, only asking you if there is a place where he can wash the blood off himself.

People become more bold when they see you walk out of the city. Not even the sight of a crimson demigod makes them watch their tongues. Insults and slurs follow you through the streets, shouts such as “Kingslayer!” and “Beast!” are accompanied with curses such as “You are an abomination!” and “Go back to your lair!”

No one treats him as their prince and savior, no one sees him as the man he truly is. And because hatred thickens in crowds, you get your share of the insults as well.

What kind of a woman would follow a beast like him? Have you sold your soul to the demons of the desert, or has Hades himself forced you to be with this monster? Are you behind the murder of their king?

“Must I remind you?” You turn on your heels, standing tall and proud with the posture of a queen. “According to the old laws, the one who slays the king is the next to rule.”

“You led him out of the Labyrinth, didn’t you?” the voices ask.

“Gave him your cunt, too,” they sneer.

“You’re worse than the bloody Gorgon,” they mock, but you have a thick skin: if anything, you take it as a compliment to be referred to the mighty slayers of men.

What cuts through your heart is the filth and hate they spit at him, the man who has known nothing but loath since he was born.

“Hecate’s whore… I should kill you first,” one soldier shouts with spit running down his chin.

The citizens of Crete would never hail the Minotaur as their king, but none can say the deed didn’t prove great strength. Some would even call it justice. He is the queen’s son, after all: he’s more royal than any of these dung-stinking peasants will ever be. He should never have been sent down to those tunnels in the first place.

Before you know it, the Minotaur swoops past you in haste, diving towards the screaming crowd with hunched shoulders and a fiery breath.

“Stop,” you say, and he halts immediately, gaze still directed to the one who called you a whore. The soldiers back away along with the peasants and tradesmen, these poor, humble Cretes who act like they never meant to be so mean.

“Let us go in peace,” you command, voice unwavering and stern. “Or I will curse you all. You and your families, down to the seventh son and seventh daughter.”

That manages to shut them up. The threat of a curse frightens these poor beasts even more than the enraged Minotaur breathing fire through his helm. No one wants rot and puke to follow them wherever they go; no one wants to doom their offspring with illness, death and sorrow. They disperse in all directions and only hiss and whisper as they go.

You spit on the ground as your last gift to these people, leaving the city of Crete with the ever-adoring Bull at your heels.

“You’re even prettier when you’re angry,” he says while walking next to you, voice thick with genuine passion and awe.

You roll your eyes: any man would cower before Hecate’s curse, but this one? This one only gets more horny.

“Perhaps you are part bull after all,” you retort dryly.

“It takes more than one spear to kill me,” he boasts, but you don’t need more proof of his prowess. Surely, people have tried to kill him in the Labyrinth, but he’s survived every single attempt on his life – for that alone, he should be a decorated hero.

The only thing that makes you annoyed, however, is this childish need to prove he could’ve taken the whole city by himself just because some man happened to call you a slut.

“Mother said I’m a monster instead of a man,” he says, completely unaware that your snap wasn't meant as a compliment. He says it like he’s partly proud of it, and you finally sigh and turn.

“Your mother was heartless. And wrong.”

The Minotaur only looks at you with a building passion that goes straight to your loins.

“But you’re not.”

“...What?”

“Heartless.”

You feel stripped naked before him, the way his eyes seem to burn away your poor dress. But the fact that he unearths your most guarded secret, just like that, is a catastrophe of a far wider scale.

You’re not sure who’s tied to whom anymore… Or if you’re tied to each other, the gods now laughing in their wine as they look down at you two: a fierce and bloodied giant following the maiden he stole like it’s you who took him and not the other way around.

You reach the roaring waters of a waterfall in silence, the night wrapping the lands inside a dark blue veil. Stars will be visible soon, and with the moon creeping up to the sky, you won’t be needing candles tonight. The silver mistress gives plenty of light for you to admire your beast, and compared to the thick darkness of the tunnels you emerged from this morning, it feels like a generous blessing.

You sit on the banks of the small, clear pond, utterly exquisite at nightfall. The sun’s heat has turned into a warm, caressing breeze, and you submerge your feet into the water, giving out a satisfied sigh as the cool pond embraces your travel worn feet. The Bull sinks to a crouch some distance away from you, curious about your obvious moment of pleasure.

“Did you meet her…? Your mother?” You ask from the cool water lapping at your feet – how can a simple man make you feel so restless and shy?

“Did you… kill her?”

“She cursed me,” he says, sullen and wholly unsurprised. Time and time again, you are shocked by the hatred his own kin shows him. How can a mother be so cruel?

“How could I kill my own maker?”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “For everything.”

You swallow before such unwavering love. The same man who cursed the gods yesterday honours the womb he came from so much that he won’t raise a hand against it, not even when his own mother spits curses at him. You don’t know if it’s his greatest strength or biggest weakness, but sometimes you wonder if he’s more human than humans, this beast.

“I’m not,” he retorts immediately. “The king is dead. Mother is safe. I have you... This is the best day of my life.”

You turn to look at him. Time and again, the lack of lies and deceit in this man catches you off guard. It’s more painful than any wound, to see how the Minotaur has no protective skin against the corrupted human nature, that he is human nature before it was defiled.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” you falter.

The chiton pools around your ankles, and you wonder if the man even breathes anymore. You know your skin is glowing with the last rays of the setting sun, you’re aware that the water and moonlight play upon your skin and make you look like an illusion, powerful in its own way.

When have you ever faltered…? Back when you were a little girl, you reckon, the notion euphoric and eerie in your bones.

You rise up and undress before him nonchalantly, trying to ignore the fervid stare of your admirer. Unclasping the brooches holding up your white linen dress, you let it fall down and set you free, secretly reveling in the downright carnal stare now glued to your skin.

Ripe for plucking, you think while stepping out of the pile of cloth and into the thin evening air. His gaze feasts on you: the plump breasts no one ever loved, the vulnerable navel down below, the dark triangle between your legs, the secret power it holds.

Heat pools into your core as you watch him: everything in your body turns warm and soft when you take in the utter heftiness of him. The mean, swelling phallus between his legs, the near inhuman strength those shoulders and chest possess. Your body is the complete opposite of him, ethereal, almost, compared to the absolute brute strength before you.

His eyes linger there the longest until he rises too, stiff and dreamy, a beast entirely taken by a thrall. The loincloth is practically torn away, as if it’s only a nuisance he must get rid of immediately. His eyes never leave your shape while he bares himself, and the phallus, you notice, belongs to a human. It’s thick and wondrous, fully erect, adorned with dark curls and accompanied by a set of balls you’ve mainly seen on horses. Big, full and round but unlike animals, they’re covered in dark fur, almost black here in the evening light. Thick seed beads through the slit of his cock from simply seeing you, and the way his chest heaves makes it clear that this man is ready to mate as soon as he’s allowed to do so.

“You need to take off your helm,” you lift your chin, thoroughly aware of your power over him, even if it’s laughable, a miracle that he doesn’t fuck you on the spot like the animal he is. “You’re a man, not a bull.”

His eyes don’t betray any kind of hesitation. He doesn’t seem to be interested in whether he wears his mask or not. He just blinks as if he’s indeed under a spell and nods.

“If you say so.”

The broad muscles flex as he takes it off, and what is revealed to you from underneath the head is both a surprise and a disappointment. There’s not a monster under there, only a man, a stoic, boorish, shaggy male who’s in desperate need of a wash and a comb. He’s somewhat handsome under all that facial hair and knots, actually, not bad at all – if you like your men rugged and wild.

He lets the head drop to the ground with a thud as if it was never a part of him at all, and follows you into the pool like you’re his mother and he’s your cub about to get scrubbed clean.

He seems to dwarf you, even when half submerged in the pond, leaning back with a sigh not unlike yours. If you’re afraid, your body has a peculiar way of showing it: even in the clear, glossy water, you can feel yourself get wet. Never have you seen such strength, not in any man: in horror and awe, you realize he could be a descendant of Zeus himself. As if providing proof to these claims, he looks up to the sky, mesmerized by the myriad stars dotting the vast, unattainable blue.

Using this momentary distraction to your advantage, you reach to pluck a handful of moss from the bank. With this soft little sponge in your hand, you hope to make it clear that this is indeed a bath, not foreplay.

“They’re stars,” you say softly while slinking closer to him. “Have you ever seen them...?”

“Yes,” he rasps with his head lolled back, throat completely exposed. It always hurts your heart to see that he trusts you so fully. You are no threat to him – even if the gods changed the moss in your hand into a weapon of some sort, you wouldn’t pose any kind of challenge. And still, the way he allows you to creep towards him and wipe his rough hide with the makeshift sponge without so much as flinching is heartbreaking.

“I have forgotten…” his voice drifts off as he examines the night sky, eyes filled with distant, glass-like delight.

“Beautiful, aren’t they...?”

“Your world is pretty,” he brings his gaze back to earth and to you. “But you’re the loveliest thing I’ve seen so far.”

You almost freeze upon hearing that. His compliments always catch you off guard, but this time, something forbidden and long forgotten comes undone: a lost want, no, a need to hear such simple words of shallow praise.

“You do not scream... You do not run. Why?”

Your eyes are liquid, glass about to break as you set yourself on the task of scrubbing him clean. You refuse to get emotional in front of him: an initiate of the dark goddess, shedding tears when a horny man calls her pretty? What utter nonsense.

But then he grabs your wrist: not to seize back power, but to prevent you from escaping this fragile moment.

“You are different,” he agrees calmly, then releases you, but you reckon it’s mostly because he misses the soft rubs you were giving him.

“Perhaps I’m crazy,” you breathe while looking at the damp curls on his chest.

Yes… That’s the only explanation for this madness. It has to be.

“Is that why you took me?”

“I took you because you’re mine. I want you.”

“You can’t just take what you want,” you warn softly.

“Why not?” His head tilts a little to the side as he’s trying to make sense of you and the manners of your world. “Don’t you want to be mine?”

You lift your gaze and risk a look into his eyes, stripped from all facades as always. You even catch a passing wave of worry there: he had counted on you being as fascinated with him as he is with you. The hunger behind that want, the need to be something special to you, is a whole another issue that must wait until your head is more clear. Way more clear…

“Perhaps,” you confess.

“I have nothing to give you,” he shrugs, eyes looking slightly past you this time, out of shame or anxiety. It takes a while for you to understand he’s liking you to the goods at the market and thinks he’s expected to have money to be able to keep you.

“You don’t need to pay for me,” you smile, trying your best to disguise the soft amusement in your voice. His brows only furrow as he tries to calculate and think.

“I don’t understand the rules of this world,” he finally shakes his head.

“I’ll teach you.”

For a while, he only looks on with fascination how you rub his arms and belly, basically massaging him with the wet moss. His eyes drift closed when you scrub the back of his neck, the stout erection only getting thicker under the cool water. You’re careful with his legs, not because you’re afraid he’s ticklish but because you try to avoid touching the huge cock already jutting up from happiness. It gives a few excited bounces when you wash his inner thighs, hopeful to get its needs satiated soon.

“I can hunt for you,” he suggests. “Bring you food… Protect you.”

He’s visibly excited when figuring out a way to give you something in return. He wants to provide offerings for your company, your lore, and eventually, your cunt, too. You might be a virgin, but you’re not stupid: of course he wants the soft, wet prize between your legs. A pair of lovely tits to squeeze at night... Ears to groan hushed confessions into, thighs to nibble, bite and suck until you cry...

“What do you think?” He asks, breath heavy from the bliss you’re already granting him by simply giving him a bath. “I could give you my heat. Please you...”

“You know how to please women?”

“No. But you could teach me.”

The way he says it is not shy. Only tentative. A bear, walking on ice and hoping it would carry his weight. One wrong step and the ice will swallow him, spitting out his bones only in spring.

And then…

“Do you know how to fuck?”

The ice holds, mainly because you’re too shocked to even slap or ridicule this man. His eyes bore into you with such unbridled greed that you have trouble keeping your precious pride intact.

“Of course,” you hear yourself whisper like it would be an insult to your intellect if you didn’t.

“Teach me,” he says, ever more greedily.

“I…”

Your jaw is left open, but not a word comes out. A strong palm closes around your wrist again, this time to bring you flush against him. The water laps at your skin, a distant crow cackles somewhere. Your hand is brought to his phallus, but he doesn’t have to wrap your fingers around it: you do it all by yourself, breath locked in your throat as you feel how hard and blazing he is.

“You want my cock,” he says, mouth only an inch from yours. “Don’t you...?”

You wet your lips – a mistake, because his half-lidded gaze darts to your mouth the instant your pink tongue lashes out. You’re in a predicament, but on the other hand, what else did you expect, taking your clothes off in front of a touch-starved bull?

“I’d give it to you happily,” he insists. “No female ever wanted to spread her legs for me.”

Or a leash.

Your fingers tighten on their own, they mould around him. Like a bond…

“Really?” You breathe. “What fools they were...”

The cock gives a full throb inside your palm, exalted to be yours. But only a moment later, the dreaded Minotaur moves.

You find yourself under him before you can even gasp for air: the soaked, hot body of a giant now pinning you on the grass and crushing you under it with ease. The weight of your error is fully pressed against you: he was never tamed, and you were a fool to think you could put him in chains.

The raw scent of earth and musk fills your nostrils, making the stars above you spin. His cock is trapped between your bodies, giving another rich pulse against your thigh. Gods, if he were throbbing like that inside you…

“You make my skin burn,” he growls into your ear, the heat of his skin now unbearable, the coarse hair prickling your skin from neck to thigh. “My loins, ache…”

“Are you a witch?” He asks, and you finally allow yourself to breathe.

If he only knew… But hexes and charms are of no use for you now: the only thing you can do is moan, apparently, as he dives for your neck, planting barbarous kisses on your skin.

Down, down, down he goes, pure avarice driving him to feast on every part of you. You’re too weak to stop him when he searches for the source of your intoxicating scent. Discovering it between your thighs, he dives nose-first into your sex, meeting your core with a hungry grunt.

Your back arcs with pleasure, your nails sink into his back: a funny thing to do when he’s already as close as can be. The trail of crude kisses leads him to your breasts, and you try to keep your whimpers in control, but a gasp erupts when he drags a hot tongue across your nipple. Massive palms close around your tits while you squirm in his hold: he doesn’t seem to be driven by the need to please you; rather, he wishes to study you first, examine how your body reacts to his groping. He leaves your breasts aching and sore, every bite and suck managing to make you wetter and wetter, your cunt screaming for attention by now.

“Gods...” you wriggle on the soft earthen bed, not expecting him to take you with his mouth first.

He withdraws, only a little, but his voice is surprisingly soft.

“Do I hurt you...?”

“No… But this is not mating…”

“Even I know that much,” he says darkly, and grabs you by the waist, moves you around like a doll until you find yourself on your belly.

He looks at you from between your thighs, demonic and keen. The broad shoulders force your legs wide apart when he’s seated there, waist-deep in the water, with you hauled to the shore like a siren.

Not a moment is wasted as he pulls you back to him by the hips: you’re drawn to all fours, a hot streak of cum dragging on the inside of your thigh from the cock that meets your skin. He grabs and steadies it with an annoyed grunt, and the fat tip is shoved straight into your folds, your nether lips parted with brute force almost.

“Guide me.”

His voice is demanding, impatient as he drags the fat head up and down the entrance of your hole, coating his cock with your slick in the process. You wonder if it’s instinctual, if he knows that this is where he should poke and that it will hurt you less if he’s well-oiled. He’s about to rut you into oblivion the instant you tell him where to shove his cock, and the prospect only sends more sap flowing down your thigh.

“There…” you stutter when he finds it, the aching spot that’s leaking profusely. He pushes the head in, not by teasing but by bullying, almost forcing it inside from how tight and unreceptive you are.

“Tighter than my fist,” is his only comment, and it makes you shudder. “I will not last long…”

You wince from the burn, but the rest of it glides in like a dream, and suddenly you’re filled, to the capacity, one could say. He grunts just from the way your womanhood is hugging him, not sure what this foreign object inside you is – is it a good thing or a threat?

“Easy then,” you breathe a huff into the sweet night air, filled with fireflies and night birds who know nothing about the fucking you’re about to go through.

He doesn’t move – inside you, that is. Outside, he crawls forward until he moulds around you, heavy body enveloping you completely. The hairs on his thighs tickle the back of your legs, his chest scrapes your back just so as he demonstrates how you belong to him in every way. But when your cunt starts to squeeze him again, he swallows thickly.

“Does this feel good to you too…?”

You catch faint confusion and concern in his voice, astonished that such a soft, frail body like yours can take his cock just like that. Little does he know you’re still adjusting to his size, thanking all the gods that he doesn’t move yet.

“Yes,” you confess because it does feel good: his thickness inside you, stretching you both gently and violently, studying how it feels to be inside a loving, wet heat.

“Then I will fuck you every day,” his lips come to brush your ear. “Many times...”

You hear yourself whimper, more humble now than ever. No man would dare to take you on all fours, but here you are, like a bought bride about to get stuffed…

He withdraws a little, asks, “Like this?” when he returns with a rough, nasty thrust. The balls meet your mound, heavy on the tender nub you’ve flicked when you’re lonely, covering your mouth while you do it. Both your hands are planted on the ground now, your legs spread before this beast, cunt filled to the brim with his cock.

“Not so rough,” you warn, and he heeds your instructions to the letter until he’s moving in and out with a slow, delicious pace that allows you to feel every thick bump of him. Soaked now down to your thighs, the sounds of your mating is utterly sloppy and slick, and of course he’s curious.

“Are you always like this…?”

“Like… what,” you huff in between the slow, torturous thrusts.

“Soft,” he rasps. “Tight… Wet like rain.”

“No. It’s just when…”

“When you want to fuck?”

You whimper for an answer, mostly because he starts to slip from the agreed sluggish pace. His cock invades you with more urgency, chasing the eruption that must be generous from those thick balls that should belong to a horse.

“I knew it…” he says dreamily behind you. “Some women want to mate with bulls...”

He punctuates his newfound pride with a full, deep thrust, and you wince.

“You’re not a–”

“Keep telling yourself that, little maiden.”

He exhales a hot smile next to your ear, and you’re neck deep in love. Your mouth hangs open, your lids half closed and fluttering from the way he pounds into your poor, abused cunt. Heavy balls slap your swollen nub with careless abandon, making you squeeze his thickness every time he hits the end of you. His grunts become more animalistic with every thrust, and your cunt is a wild thing, leaking and weeping and throbbing until you fear there’s something wrong with you – no woman is supposed to be this needy for a beast…

I’m going to come… You realize in horror as the slick sounds of fucking overthrow even the coursing roar of the waterfall. The knowledge shoots your body full of dark, hot ink; it explodes inside your core like a liquid star, throbbing through your cunt currently being ploughed like you’re nothing but a needy, sloppy hole for him. You’re swimming in so much pleasure that it’s almost painful, the revelation some secret of the gods, no doubt.

He growls when you moan, heavy arm snaking its way around your middle to keep you in place for him. The purr is eager and low, the rumble erupts from his chest like a thick, loving volcano, a statement of how perfect you are. He nuzzles his nose into your neck and rubs his scent all over you while fucking you through it, the divine rapture that leaves your throat dry from moans.

He doesn’t need to be told what it means when you’re crying like that: he doesn’t need to be explained that his cock is giving you ample pleasure. It’s so desperate, how much he wants to both fuck and please you, just own you and fulfill you, that you start to shake, your frail body not capable of handling the orgasm he just gave you.

Your strength fails, and you find yourself on your elbows, cunt even more exposed to him now, the cock pistoning into you with a relentless pace. He’s like a titan upon you, taking pleasure from your quivering, weak frame and the tight wet hole that belongs to it. You’re still in rapture when he starts to sound like broken, wounded man.

“You were made for me,” he huffs. “You were made...for me…”

His voice evaporates along with your thin, adoring mewls, just before he fucks himself over the edge. You can feel the hot, thick spurts, filling you as he roars into your hair, balls pressed flush against your sex, thighs meeting yours in a moment frozen in time.

They can probably hear him all the way to the city, hear what a cunt like yours does to an invincible beast like him… But his cries are only met with silence; the night sky looks back with disinterest, the birds continue their songs when they notice it was only the roar of a mighty beast that filled the land. Before long, he’s groaning above you, using your hole more softly; loving it until the last drop is milked.

When he stops, his whole body is trembling from release, but you’re not given a moment of reprieve. He forces you to the ground with him on your back, the rough, thick body never leaving yours. Coarse beard chafes your neck, his body trapping you completely under him, he even opens his jaw to take your shoulder between his teeth and bites you while his cock is still pulsing fat inside you.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he pants into your ear, angry, almost.

“Good,” you breathe a smile, but he’s not satisfied.

“You couldn’t get enough of me too… I noticed.”

“You gave me pleasure,” you agree. “Lots of it.”

“That was a lot of seed… I haven’t spilled in days.”

He huffs into your ear, astonished and proud that he could do such a thing. You feel him shift to take a better look at you, fingers arrive to graze your temple as if to make sure you’re real, as if having his cock inside you wasn’t enough proof of that. They’re a little shaky, a little uncouth, but the touch is gentle enough, and sweet.

He's boasting again perhaps, you don’t know, but you give him a soft laugh, notice how he stops breathing momentarily when hearing the bright sound.

“I am filled to the brim with you, yes… It will take a while before I can take more.”

“...You have other holes in you,” he offers after a while, quite seriously, in fact.

“Get off me, you beast,” you huff and squirm to get out from under him, but there’s a luscious grin on your face, a smile that tells him you would more than approve of his obscene ideas later.

“This feels good,” he murmurs into your hair. “This feels right...”

He allows you to leave from under him, only whines when his cock gets exiled from your cunt. He misses the wet heat like a newborn child misses the womb, but you need to recover from the recent invasion. Seed gushes out from your hole, making a mess on the ground as he pulls you against him, wanting to cuddle you next.

You wonder if he even knows what cuddling means as you lie there with a sticky mess between your legs and the heat of an entire sun on your cheeks. You smile into the coarse, sweaty body hair tickling your nose, deciding it doesn’t matter whether he knows or not: the most important thing is that he wants to hold you like this.

“Yes,” you smile. “This feels right…”

Something blooms in your chest. An odd flower, persistent and sweet.

The stars above are cold but motherly as they look down on you two: born again into a world that doesn’t want either of you. The only things that accept you now are flowers, birds, the wind and the rain, bees and salty sea, but that’s aplenty. That’s more than the whole of Crete could ever give you.

“Are you thinking about your hero,” he asks above you.

“What? No…”

“Good,” he rasps, so softly now that you start to fear he’s about to cry.

You are more than capable of lying, but Theseus hasn’t crossed your mind in hours: the last time it did, the memory was received with loath and disdain. Thinking about Theseus while you’re draped all over your Bull, his seed flowing out of your womb... What a ridiculous idea.

The reason for his hardly disguised anger is laid out plain before you: he's just jealous like any other man. Somehow, it makes you feel even more glowy inside.You’re my hero, you want to say, but have no courage to spill out the words. He was balls deep inside you mere moments ago, but telling him this intimate truth seems to be too much.

It never occurred to him, then, that you would enjoy copulating with him. He fucked you with the impression that you needed thoughts of another man to make you wet… That perhaps with the help of the image of Theseus in your mind, you were able to come with his cock inside you.

“My Bull,” you whisper. “Tell me your name. You must have a name…?”

His breath stops only for a moment, the heart in his chest gives an arduous beat before he answers.

“Asterion.”

Starry one…

Of course.

All monsters have names, usually the opposite of what they’re claimed to be. His birth is in heaven, in the stars; he belongs to the company of heroes and gods.

“Asterion,” you whisper it out into the night air while the animal an man both find their new home in your arms. “Your birth is written in the stars. Did you even know…?”

“Does that make me a hero?” He snorts, more old wounds torn open right before your eyes.

You wriggle yourself out of his hold, but he avoids your stare. You lift a hand to bring those beautiful Olympian eyes back to you.

“It makes you immortal.”

Perhaps you should’ve known he would be enticed with an apple instead of tethers and deals. Or with a palm, held out with no intent to strike…

It’s lovely, how he blinks every time he’s confused. You’ve yet to see him shy, but if he ever is, this might be the moment… You even catch him swallowing under that wild facial hair, an awkward blob right after that blink when his birthright is acknowledged.

But even more dumbfounded he becomes when he realizes you’re truly and veritably admiring him. When you whisper it to him – you’re my hero – and watch something shatter in him that was supposed to wrench itself free, that’s when he’s truly granted divinity.

Perhaps it was all about becoming animal again, allowing the other to have a sniff. Baring your throat and embracing the instinct to trust. Marrying your wild soul… The deepest magic of all.

#könig x reader #könig cod #könig x you #konig x reader #könig mw2 #konig x you #könig smut #könig fanfiction #konig smut #cod könig

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sweet-as-an-angel · 5 months

Text

Giant! König Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Creep! König, Perverted! König, König Owns a Cum Jar, Size Difference, Giant! König, Size Kink, Sadistic! König, Abuse of Power, Dub-Con, Cum Soaking, Attempts at Forced Impregnation, Implied Pregnancy, Voyeurism, Hostage Situation, Human Pet! Reader, Physical Violence, Human! Reader, Fem! Reader.

Giant! König captures you after he catches you sneaking around his castle, trying to loot something of value to take back to your impoverished village.

Giant! König immediately jumps at the opportunity to take you as his human pet, throwing you into a nearby jar and closing the lid, observing you like a spider beneath a glass.

Giant! König who, after deciding he wants to keep you long-term instead of turning your body into the sprinkles atop his ice cream, creates a more sustainable living space for you after discovering you’re not as durable as he thought (almost suffocating, dehydrating, and starving to death whilst being held in that damn jar).

Giant! König surprises you with a dollhouse of his own design: a door that locks from the outside, windows too small for you to crawl through, and walls made of a material too strong for your tiny utensils to burrow through.

Giant! König doesn’t take long to start using you for his own pleasure – almost like he has no other outlet; like he was just waiting for this opportunity to come.

Giant! König who, whenever he feels like punishing you, puts you in The Jar and stares you down whilst stroking his cock, gigantic even in comparison to other giants’. He grunts, berating you, telling you how he’d “Fill you with my cock if you weren’t so small – bet I could crush you with it if I wanted to.”

When he’s ready, he cums into the jar – all over you – thick and heavy, almost drowning you with just one spurt of his load.

He loves watching you struggle to keep your head above the viscous pool he’s trapped you in as you literally swim in his semen, looking up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to “Get me out, please!”.

He’ll often leave you in there without clothes to try and teach you a lesson. Until it turns into another reason – to breed you – which you accidentally sparked in him when you told him to be careful! You’ll end up getting me pregnant!

Giant! König can’t get your words out of his head, the primal urges he’s suppressed for so long unearthed by your pleas for him to spare you, if only once.

Giant! König knows he’s way too big to fit inside you, so this – cumming profusely into a jar he’s encased you in whilst giving you no means of refusing his attempts – is the next best thing.

Giant! König gets off on the sheer size difference between the two of you – the fact that you’re entirely dependent on him for your survival. Makes him feel like the kind of giant he’s supposed to be; strong and well-seeded.

Giant! König lays awake at night and fantasises about having a family, a far-off dream until you came along. It’s all he can think about as the image of you, his tiny wife, swollen to an almost painful degree as you bear his children, floods his mind, makes his cock twitch – harden. He resists the urge to relieve himself of this burden, preferring to save every ounce of his seed for you rather than wasting even a drop of it.

Giant! König who, despite his…questionable treatment of you, does try to treat you well. He lets you eat as much as you want, both because he knows you come from a poor background and because he has to keep you healthy to bear his offspring — especially since he knows they’ll be quite big compared to you.

Giant! König enjoys questioning you about your life before him, how humans work, what they do all day, whether the stereotypes of them all being lustful, pride-driven, creatures are true.

If you validate any part of this stereotype, he’ll use that as an excuse to sink you in even more of his cum, to subject you to the task of sitting on his cock (horizontally, might I add) while he commands you to get yourself off by humping the shaft.

Man’s had no outlet for basicall all his life – he’s feral.

Giant! König loves to watch you while you’re tucked up in your dollhouse, observing everything you do. Humans are a rarity in the Giant Lands, so to have one in his home is a mythic occurrence.

Giant! König loves showing you off; he thrives on the reaction he gets when his friends see you. You’re, as stated before, a rarity in their parts, often used as a delicacy rather than a pet since humans aren’t particularly sturdy compared to giants, so managing to keep one alive is something of a status symbol in itself; the mark of a truly capable mate (hence captive humans are often given as courting gifts between giants).

However, König is also highly protective of you – especially after he caught Horangi (another giant he’d been showing you off to) goading you – harassing you – stroking his cock, telling you to “Lick the tip. Never felt a human tongue before.”

Needless to say, König never invited him around again after that.

Giant! König is, obviously, good with his hands and technical know-how. Thus, if his method of soaking you in his semen doesn’t work when trying to knock you up, he’ll create some unlawful contraption to make it inevitable.

Despite his size, König has managed to make a tiny glass syringe that he’s packed with his cum, holding you down easily with one hand as he presses the tip to your entrance, pumping you full of his seed.

He struggles to contain how the scene – the feeling – of you trying desperately to fight him off, to stop him from filling you, makes him feel. You have to watch the bulge between his legs grow as the feeling of being filled past full overcome you.

Giant! König does this as many times as he likes until he knows his seed’s taken, when you start showing. Which, considering how big his offspring will be, is pretty early on.

He definitely makes maternity clothes for you – comfortable garments that show the swell of your stomach as the weeks crawl by into months.

Giant! König loves bathing you, too. Especially after he’s covered you in his cum.

There’s something so intimate and gentle about it – a scarcity in the Giant Lands. Having something so small and fragile in his hands, knowing that he can crush you in his grip at any moment, makes him feel…responsible. Trustworthy.

Giant! König will never let you go, btw. You can try to run as much as you want, but he’ll always catch up to you, his human pet.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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nanaslutt · 3 months

Text

Good boy

synopsis: Choso ditched you for his brother. His punishment? Getting tied up and watching you get off.

pairing: Choso x reader

cont: fem reader, established relationship, kinda sub!Choso, restraints, masturbation, cumming untouched, bed humping, oral(r!r), dirty talk, cum eating, praise

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Choso's strong arms pull against the rope that binds them, secured in a way that can even hold him down. He's sat on his knees with a pout on his face while a puddle of pre-cum grows on the floor underneath his twitching cock, a line of the slick connected to the tip of his dick.

Choso has to remember to swallow every so often as he watches you piston your fingers in and out of your cunt, his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. His face is all screwed in lust and need, his eyes glossed over and lips swollen and wet from how frequently he licks his tongue over them.

The squelches emanating from your pussy only makes his cock throb even harder. "F-fuuuuck Choso-" You whine, spreading your legs further apart for him, letting him get a better view of the mess you were making between your legs. Your fingers were coated with your wetness and were only getting wetter and wetter with each thrust.

Choso's cock bobbed at the sound of his name leaving your lips. "It hurts, I- I wanna fuck you now," Choso begged, stuttering out his words. He felt like crying, his poor balls felt so heavy and he needed to feel something wrapping around his cock before he lost his mind.

You shook your head, adding your other hand between your legs to start rubbing at your clit. Choso whined, watching astutely as your cunt squeezed around your fingers at the added stimulation. "D-did that feel good?" Choso asked, his eyebrows furrowing together tighter. "You got tighter when you touched yourself there." He explained.

You gasped, rubbing your clit faster while looking up at him, your eyes darting between his cock and his eyes which were focused on your hole. "Yeah, Cho, f-feels so good." You replied, your pace faltering for a moment as you rubbed your clit perfectly, making your mind go blank.

Choso's breath picked up, he was panting loudly now, squirming on the floor. "I wanna lick it. I- I wanna lick your pussy." Choso cried, licking his lips. "Please, please give me something It hurts, my cock hurts." You almost started to feel bad, but each time your eyes found his desperate face, it was hard to.

He looked so vulnerable, so needy, it was a good look on him. "No Choso, t-this is your punishment for ditching me for your brother." You said, staying adamant in your stance on not letting him fuck you. "I- I know I know I'm sorry, I don't have to put it inside just- please, please give me something." Choso cried, his shoulders flexing as he tried to wiggle out of his restraints.

Looking at him for a few seconds, you decided a little something couldn't hurt. Pulling your fingers out of your cunt, you sat up and crawled toward Choso who sat by the wall. He watched with hungry eyes as you slowly made your way closer to him, leaving your previous spot against the back of the bed.

"You wanna taste me?" You asked, tilting your head at him. You braced yourself on your knees and leaned forward, placing one of your hands on his upper thigh to steady yourself, dangerously close to his cock. Choso nodded hastily before you even finished speaking. "I'm not going to touch you, this is all you get." You told him, making him look into your eyes so you know he understood.

"Okay, thank you, thank you," Choso asked, his eyes dropping to your hand that had just been inside of you. "Open." You instructed, watching him with bated breath as his jaw fell open and his tongue fell out, his eyebrows furrowing together in need. "Good boy." And with that, you pressed your fingers against his tongue, letting him wrap his lips around them as he sucked off your juices, his tongue swirling around them.

A smile graced your features when his eyes rolled back in his head and a loud muffled moan vibrated your fingers. Your mouth fell open in a small o, the feeling of his tongue licking your fingers making you feel a new sense of need between your thighs.

Suddenly, Choso bit down on your fingers, not hard enough to hurt, just hard enough to catch you off guard, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise. You watched Choso's body jerk repeatedly, his eyes fluttering in their sockets before you felt something warm and hot land on your thigh.

"Oh fuck..." You whispered to yourself as Choso whined around your fingers, his tongue still working adamantly around them, trying to prolong your taste as much as he could. Choso's cock bobbed heavily in the air, his balls throbbing as he released his seed all over you and the floor between you.

Your fingers slipped out of his mouth when his chest fell forward, his head landing against your shoulder. "Oh my god Choso, fuck." You whined, your body feeling like it had been set on fire. Choso was cumming. Choso was cumming hands-free, just from tasting you.

You reached out to grab his hot cock at the end of his orgasm, slowly jerking him off, trying to milk every last drop out of him. "Oh- y-your hand-" Choso groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck, wishing he could cling onto you with his arms right now. "F-feels good, feels so good keep touching me, please." He begged.

You knew you weren't supposed to touch him, at least according to your own rules right now, but when he begged so sweetly it was hard to ignore him. Choso breathed heavily against the side of your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin. "You like my taste that much, baby?" You asked, running your freehand through his hair, still every so slowly jerking him off.

He nodded right away, a soft "uh-huh" leaving his lips. "You're so cute Choso, so cute." You praised, dropping your eyes to his cock, noticing how his abs still clenched and twitched every so often. He made such a mess, his cum had drenched your thighs and the floor under him.

"You made such a mess though, Cho." You said, gripping his hair tightly between your fingers, pulling him out of the crook of your neck softly. "Look at all this, it's everywhere." You said, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs at the sight as you pretended to act annoyed.

"I- I'll clean it." Choso immediately offered, looking up at you like a puppy as he nodded at his own words. You let go of his cock and wiped your hand clean on your thigh before grabbing his soft face in both of your hands, which he leaned into, his eyes closing as he nuzzled against your palms.

"How are you gonna clean it with your hands tied behind your back?" You asked, waiting for him to suggest a certain idea before you did. Choso was one step ahead of you as he answered, "My mouth, I'll use my mouth." He said confidently, his face staying serious even when you smiled, your eyes raising in surprise.

"Yeah? You gonna lick up your own cum off my thighs?" You asked, a hint of teasing in your tone. Choso nodded right away, already trying to lean down to start when you slid one of your hands behind his head and gripped his scalp, tugging his hair sharply, making him groan as he was stopped in his tracks.

"I'm not gonna make you do it on this hard floor, come lay on the bed with me." You said, your thumb rubbing against his cheek. Choso followed you like a duckling as you grabbed his forearm and pulled him backward with you towards the bed. You helped Choso situate himself between your thighs, his arms stim bound behind his back.

Choso sighed in relief, in this position his cock was pressed firmly against the sheets, making his still prominent arousal get a little relief. Choso nuzzled his head against your thigh as you placed your legs around his shoulders, your hands gathering the stray hairs around his face, making sure his hair didn't get any cum on it.

"Good boy Choso." You praised, looking at him fondly as he licked his first fat stripe against your thigh, taking his tongue back into his mouth and swallowing quickly before he scrunched his nose and opened his mouth for more. His reaction made you giggle. "You don't like the way you taste?" You asked, feeling yourself throb the closer and closer Choso got to licking up the cum that was right next to your throbbing pussy on your inner thigh.

Choso shook his head before swallowing, his hot tongue making your thighs clench as it caressed your skin repeatedly. "I was just thinking I feel bad for you." You laughed at how cute he was beginning before you shook your head and ran your fingers through his hair to recollect it before you held it back again, out of his face.

"I like the way you taste Choso." You said, making his eyes shoot up at you, locking onto yours as he leaned forward and licked another stripe against your leg, the eye contact making you swallow hard. Choso blushed at your shameless words before he shut his eyes and continued cleaning you off.

Your breathing started to pick up when his licks became kisses and bites, and he became less and less focused on cleaning off his cum, the trail of his mouth getting dangerously close to your cunt. You were throbbing at this point, you almost wanted to beg him to touch you. "Choso." You said softly, about to warn him not to touch you per his punishment, but you were unable to do so, instead tightening your hand on his hair, hoping that would get something across to him because there is no way you had the will to tell him not to touch you right now.

Choso looked up at you with lidded eyes, all glossed over and fucked out as he shimmied closer to your cunt, licking the skin just under your pussy lips. The look on your face now was pure lust and unbridled need as you swallowed hard, watching Choso try and be sneaky. Keeping his eyes on you, he stuck his tongue out before he leaned forward and opened his mouth, his tongue falling out, making your breath pause before he closed his eyes and made contact with your cunt.

"Oh fuck Choso-" You whined breathlessly, your head immediately falling back against the sheets at the contact, your grip in his hair loosening as you held him against you using the nape of his neck.

Choso moaned softly, shaking his head back and forth against your pussy as he lapped at your folds, his tongue breaching the entrance of your pussy as he swallowed up your wetness, replacing the bitter taste of his cum with the sweet taste of yours. Because Choso's arms were bound behind his back, the only thing holding him up was your legs that caged him in, so his face was getting buried in your pussy, bringing you the most delicious pressure.

"M-mmmm-" Choso moaned into your cunt, his fat tongue stretching open your walls. "B-bad boy Choso, you're such a bad boy." You scolded, with no real malice behind your words. You were too horny, and his tongue felt too good to care about him breaking your rules. Choso hummed in response before his plush lips found your clit, wrapping around them.

"Oh god- right there Choso- Fuckkkk right there-" You moaned, gripping his hair and the nape of his neck ruthlessly, trying to ground yourself. Choso moaned against your clit, the sound vibrating your pussy, making your body jolt and jerk with the stimulation.

You suddenly noticed how much the bed was shaking, which snapped you out of your own head a bit as you thought you were the one causing the commotion unconsciously. Peeking your head back up, you saw Choso's hips rutting quickly against the sheets, his eyes firmly shut as he ate you out, his tongue batting against your clit expertly.

You watched the way his hands clenched and unclenched in the restraints, the muscles of his back flexing every so often as he tried to fight them to no avail. "Does your cock feel needy again?" you asked, looking down at how sloppily he was working his tongue and lips against you. He nodded, his glossy eyes peeling open to find yours, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Are you gonna cum like that?" You questioned again, noticing how harshly he was fucking the bed, the frame squeaking underneath him. You blushed hard, from an outsider's perspective it sounded exactly like he was fucking you.

The man between your legs moaned as he nodded, his eyes staying locked on yours save for the occasional fluttering as he ate you out. His answer made your pussy clench around nothing. Choso was so shameless and desperate, you felt like you were gonna cum just from watching him hump the bed like some dog in heat.

"M-make me cum with you." You begged, feeling yourself on the verge of your orgasm. "I'm about t-to cum." Choso felt his balls tighten at your confession. The taste of you flooded his tongue, your smell invading all his senses as he flicked his tongue against your clit with twice the intensity, trying to make you cum before he did.

Suctioning his lips around you harder, your back arched against his face, which Choso followed with his head, not wanting to give you a second without pleasure. "Right there, right there, d-don't stop Choso, don't f-fucking stop-" You whined, your hips now humping against his mouth on their own volition, forcing him to nod his head with you to keep up, increasing the stimulation.

Choso was getting restless, he needed to touch you, needed to feel your body against his hands. He hated these damn restraints. Just before you felt yourself reach the edge, you heard an unintelligible 'snap' before you felt Choso's hands on you. Which is weird because you could've sworn you tied him up- but you couldn't think much about it as his tongue rubbing against you pushed you over the edge.

Choso gripped the fat of your thighs, keeping you flush against him as you rode out your orgasm on his tongue. Choso followed only moments after, his cock humping weakly against the sheets as he came for the second time, his cock rubbed raw from the comforter, but that didn't stop him from fucking it roughly, pretending he was releasing his seed inside of you as he came.

Moans of his name falling from between your lips as your thighs snapped around his head only made his orgasm feel that much more intense. You had to practically push him off of you when the shocks of your high died down, his tongue starting to push you into oversensitivity. Peeling your eyes open slowly, you looked down at Choso, who was gripping your thighs, then over to the very expensive red shibari rope, which had been snapped in two.

You opened your mouth to speak but the next thing you knew, Choso's lips were on yours, his softening cum covered cock pressing against your inner thigh as he crushed you with his body, his arms coming between your and the mattress to wrap around your body, keeping you flush against him. All you could do was moan in surprise and gasp into his mouth as he forced his tongue between your lips, your taste flooding your mouth.

After the rushed, needy kiss, Choso pulled away, a string of saliva connecting the two of you by your lips. His face was flushed and sweaty, and he was panting heavily, almost louder than you were. "I don't like that rope." Were the first words out of his mouth, making you giggle. You grabbed his face and pulled it against you, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"That rope was really expensive." You said, looking at him with raised eyebrows. Choso stared at you blankly before he squeezed his arms around you again and buried his face in the crook of your neck, his sweaty body overwhelming yours with heat. "Good. Don't buy another one I don't like it." He said pouting, his body relaxing into yours.

"I won't as long as you don't ditch me for Yuuji anymore." You said, poking the tip of his nose. Choso crinkled it before he nodded and buried his head deeper. "Okay. Sorry." He replied, his breath tickling your collarbones as his breathing returned to normal. "Good boy, Choso. You're a good boy.

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