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coryosbaby · 5 months

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—Envy

synopsis: your jealousy gets the best of you.

♡ content warning . Mentions of murder, possessiveness, oral, cum play, plinth! reader

“I want to know why you did it.”

Your boyfriend’s voice rings out through your shared room in the capital, an octave lower and in a teasing lilt— maybe not a tone that a normal person who’s discussing murder should have, but nothing about your or Coriolanus’ relationship can be defined as normal.

You know the answer to Coriolanus’ question, though you don’t want to say it. A pout glazes your plump glossed lips as you think back to the scene that has started this conversation.

—

You remember Clemensia’s stupid ponytail, her stupid face, and the way her stupid sharp nails dug into Coriolanus’ shoulder the day before. She was asking to be in that room with you the next day— literally.

It was a class project. One that was for advanced students only, a one-by-one sort of assignment. You were Dr. Gaul’s personal assistant, the youngest ever— although, partner seemed to describe your dynamic with her better. You and Dr. Gaul went way back, and she trusted you.

You and Clemensia were in that brightly lit room you were oh so familiar with. Papers and folders were strewn around a desk nearby— and you and her were both alone. The body of snakes swimming throughout the small pool in the middle of the room had been enticing to stick your hand into. You remember Clemensia’s surprised look of awe as she watched you take one of the snakes trustfully into your grasp. It dripped water but it was beautiful. Its fangs scraped against you, almost teasing. It wanted to stick its teeth into your skin— you knew it did. But you trusted the snakes, and they trusted you. They would not be eating their handler anytime soon.

But maybe they would be eating something else.

Clemensia crouched in your same position; you were on your knees, gently rubbing your cheek against the snake’s rainbow scales. It whispered to you, lulling with soft hisses.

“Would you like to hold it?” You had asked her. “They enjoy a good petting every now and again.”

Clemensia had chuckled nervously, and you could tell by her body language that she was on edge.

“Don’t be silly, [y/n] plinth,” she had answered bleakly. “That snake would surely kill me.”

You remember turning to her. You could remember her brows furrowing, the softness of her skin. Coriolanus liked nice skin.

“I know.” You had said, and the rest was a blur.

A restling of limbs, your hands gripping tightly in her hair. There was splashing, gurgling, snakes crowding the surface. Her whole body had become submerged in that pool, and then you remembered that you had forgot to feed the snakes that day.

—

Thinking about it now, maybe you were a bit dramatic. Coriolanus has made his love for you very clear. There was no reason for such atrocities because of a girl he wasn’t even dating. But they had grown too close, and it had scared you.

Not to mention her excessive gossip about your fashion choices, which really pissed you off. Coriolanus shouldn’t have become friends with her, anyway.

“I told you,” You groan, watching him take a seat across from you. His shirt buttons are undone, just how you like them. “ I didn’t do it. She slipped.”

He doesn’t reply, and you groan.

“Why are you acting as if you didn’t do the same exact thing to that boy from economics class a few months ago, Coryo?”

“He was a complete dick, [y/n]. And a pervert. That was different.”

“I’m sure it was.”

Although Coriolanus should be disturbed, or quite possibly angered with you, he isn’t. You two tell too many secrets to judge. He doesn’t exactly have room to tell you who you should and shouldn’t kill with his past history.

And even so, the boy doesn’t have any room to care for Clemensia’s passing. She isn’t you, so it doesn’t matter.

After a moment of silence, Coriolanus sighs heavily. His thighs spread, and he leans back in his chair.

“But why…” he starts quietly, contemplating, as if this is funny guessing game. “Aren’t you going to tell me why?”

He knows the reason. He’s not stupid, and never has been. But he loves to tease.

“No.”

“Mmm…”

He turns his head to the side. His blonde curls have grown back, and for that you are incredibly grateful because they’re messy and make him look even more attractive. His eyes catch sight of a framed picture beside your bed— you and him, sitting at a shared desk in class. You were smiling at the camera, your favorite outfit on, and Coriolanus was only looking at you.

Smirking, Coriolanus lifts himself up from his chair. Your brows furrow in confusion as he approaches you, his tall form almost intimidating. His smell invades your senses as he leans over your shoulder to whisper into your ear.

“Was it jealousy?”

His tone is dark, flirtatious, and his breath is hot on the shell of your ear. Heat creeps up your neck— no matter how many times he speaks to you in this low tone of voice, it never fails to make your shiver.

You chuckle, your thighs squeezing together when his fingers grip tightly onto your shoulder.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply. Your head turns to him, and he’s so close that you can feel his steady breathing. “Besides, I didn’t do it. Like I said— she slipped.”

“Liar.” He says punctually. His fingers grip your chin suddenly, and his grip is harsh. “You didn’t like me with her, did you?”

Your teeth sink into your lower lip, and Coriolanus’ fingers stroke your shoulder softly.

“Did you think she was pretty?” You ask. The boy chuckles, slowly pressing a wet kiss to your jugular that makes something electric zigzag its way through your body.

“No. The only woman who’s pretty to me is you.”

That makes you let out a small sound, and Coriolanus’ body moves to the front of your chair. He falls to his knees, then, the candlelight near the both of you making him look ever so beautiful. His fingers ghost over your skirt, and you whine, squirming in your seat. He pinches the hem, and lifts up the cotton fabric over your thighs. Cute pink panties are shown to him, and he lets out a groan.

“You’re so perfect.” He mutters. He leans in, his breath fanning over you, but he doesn’t get as close as you want. He presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Coryo,” you whine, bucking up your hips. “Please. Please eat my pussy.”

He looks up at you, his gaze dark and glazed over with lust.

“Kiss me.” He demands, and you have no choice but to obey. Your hands settle into his golden locks, pulling him up further on his knees so he can gain access to your plump, hot mouth. Your lips slot against his, and it isn’t long before his tongue is grazing the soft flesh. His teeth bite down, nibbling on your lips with ferocious hunger as his fingers dig crescent moons into your thighs. Pulling away, your hands rest on his shoulders. Coriolanus grabs one of them, pulling you so far down that your forehead touches his as he presses your palm against the bulge tight in his pants.

“Do you think Clemensia could make me feel this way, angel? Could make my cock so hard?” He says, and his breath is hot against your open mouth as he utters his next words. “I’m yours.”

You yank your hand away, pulling him into another hot and heated kiss. But not before he’s pulling himself away and sliding your panties down your legs, mouthing at your inner thighs again as your pussy is exposed to him. Coriolanus practically drools, spreading your thighs and shoving his tongue inside your tight, aching hole. His big hands wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer to his mouth. He drinks up your slick with vigor, moaning against your clit as he devours you. Your mouth drops open, whimpers spilling out of you.

“Coryo,” you cry. His tongue moves from your hole to your clit, and he wraps his lips around the swollen bud as your hips buck up into his face.

He hums, savoring the taste of your nectar and grinding his hardened cock into the open air. He slurps into your cunt with everything he has and when you cum around him he drinks up your spend, too. His cock is still aching when he’s done and when he pulls away and wipes his pretty mouth on the back of his sleeve your gesture for him to stand up.

He smiles, watching as you grab his hips and pull them towards your face. You undo his belt, watching the straining fabric as your mouth waters. You pull out his hardened cock, the tip flushed red and dripping precum, and press a light kiss to the tip. Coriolanus shutters, letting out a tiny breath of air as he watches you press kiss upon lipstick stained kiss to his thick length. After a moment he grabs your hair and gently pulls you back from his cock.

“No,” he murmurs, when you try to put your mouth back on it again. “This is about me now, not you. Now open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”

Brows furrowing while you try not to pout, you lean back and do as the man says. Your lashes flutter as you watch him tower over you, putting his legs on either side of the chair and holding himself up with one strong, muscle-ey arm. You let out a tiny whine in your throat as he holds his cock over your face and begins to stroke himself. You watch how swollen he is, how desperate he is to cum, the way his balls sit against his skin and look desperate to be emptied. He lets out small breathy moans as he rubs himself up and down, his head thrown back and his lip caught in between his teeth. What a beautiful sight.

He grunts when he looks down and sees drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth.

“Hungry for it, aren’t you?” He chastises. “I know. Poor little girl loves drinking up my cum. Don’t worry, baby, you’re gonna get some soon.”

Your head becomes fuzzy, your tongue reaching out to graze just a sliver of his cock. But he’s quick to use his length to slap your cheek, a warning growl sounding from his lips.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” He asks you. “Keep fucking still, and don’t touch me.”

You pout, your mouth closing in the process, and Coryo fumes. He grabs your chin, forcing your mouth back open grabbing your tongue with his fingers. He presses it down onto your teeth, and begins to furiously jack his cock.

“You never fucking listen.”

You want to smile but you know you can’t. When Coriolanus’ hips thrust particularly hard into the open air, you know he’s about to be close. You push out your tongue even more, watching his tip begin to spew white creamy cum onto your flushed face. He grunts, the sight of your fucked out body covered in the sticky substance making his cock kick one last time before he goes soft. You look up at him with heavy breaths, your mouth open as you lick your lips and taste him on you. His thumb brushes against a puddle of his spend, and he brings it up to your mouth.

“Now clean it up, brat.”

#Coriolanus snow #Coriolanus snow x reader #Coriolanus snow x fem! reader #Coriolanus snow smut #thg #the hunger games #hunger games #the hunger games fanfic #tbosas #the ballad of songs and snakes #the ballad of songs and snakes fanfic #dom! Coriolanus snow #Coriolanus snow fanfic

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okwons · 23 days

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my one and only

♡ enhypen ﹒ female reader genre fluff est relationship word count 400 warnings skinship mentions of food — bookshelf

heeseung | having you close to him

in most cases, he does it subconsciously; an arm or hand of his snaking around your waist whenever you enter his bubble of proximity.

he adores the elicited reactions from such minute gestures; frequently glancing back at you to engrave the flustered expression smothered over your face in his memory.

jay | saving you the last bite

when making a meal, he tends to cook a serving of two —despite your insistent protests. he’d rather have you eat well than himself; always making sure to leave you the last bite.

it wouldn’t just be a spoonful, it would most likely be half the dish. his way with words would have you persuaded to finish eating the other half, occasionally feeding you himself.

jake | opening the door for you

following his gentleman agenda, he never lets you open a door yourself. often times, he races to the door handle before you can even lay a finger on it.

an example being, opening the car door for you before he gets in himself, managing to slip in a cheesy petname like “m’lady” in the process.

sunghoon | eye contact

a simple, but heart fluttering gesture that he does unknowingly. no matter how many people in the room, his gaze would always linger back to you.

he finds himself full on admiring you; his mouth slightly agape while his orbs are pouring with love. the lengthy eye contact between you two never fails to make his heart skip a beat.

sunoo | touching up your hair

if he happens to see a strand of your hair in its unjust place, he wouldn’t hesitate to fix it. he’s quite observant when it comes to you; taking into account your usual way of doing things.

he would probably be the type to buy you cute hair pins that compliment your hair perfectly. the way your face lights up whenever you receive them only makes him want to shower you with hundreds more.

jungwon | remembering the smallest details

he holds onto every word you say to him, no matter how futile it may seem to you, he makes sure to encapsulate them in a separate corner of his mind.

he notes even the smallest details you share with him, adding in things like “oh! i remember you telling me this.” or “isn’t this your favorite?”

riki | lending you his clothes

a privilege only given to you, given the fact that you look ten times better in his clothes rather than your own. it’s completely off limits to others, but when it comes to you; he simply turns a blind eye.

he finds you adorable in clothes that are twice your size, never giving up the chance to gawk at you whenever he sees you enter his room with one of his oversized tees.

@hysgf @beomgyu-stan-present @okwonyo @byhees

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sunfish-exotics · 9 months

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sorry to bother you with this (again, I think) but. my 1 and a half year old female hognose is only 76g but the vet a few months back said she was a bit fat (doesn't look it to me) and to already slow down to one feeding every two weeks... but 76g for a girl that age is quite little isn't it? I've seen males the same age (possibly her siblings) that were bigger than her... am I wrong in my estimate?

I think the issue might be that I'm having trouble sourcing appropriately sized feeders so if I AM right then I should probably double up on the fuzzies I CAN get my hands on..?

76g is on the smaller side of average for that age, but still pretty typical imo. A pic from the top down would be helpful in me checking out her body condition! I would definitely recommend small / medium hoppers for her if you can source them, until then doubling up on fuzzies is fine. You may want to dust them in a little calcium + d3 powder on occasion as well since fuzzies don't have all the solid bone that hoppers have. That being said it is pretty easy for hognoses to get chunky when fed multiple, fattier feeder items. Let me know if there's anything else I can help you with! Good luck!

#western hognose #snake feeding mention

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omg-snakes · 2 years

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If u start keeping quail then you can have free eggs and chick's for the snakes too!

I knoooooowwww and also I just adore button quail. I had some many years ago and they're such charming little birds that lay such delicious little eggs. Quail egg cookies are rich and special in a way I can't describe.

I also raised coturnix quail, but I found the buttons much nicer and easier to keep. Their social dynamics are more my speed. I like little birds with big personalities.

At present I'm not in any position to be keeping quail or chickens, so I'll just continue to live vicariously through others while being satisfied with my handfuls of snakes.

#quail discourse #snake adjacent i guess?#technically not snakes and i'm very sorry #quail #cw snake feeding mention #snake feeding mention #tw snake feeding mention #snake #snakes #reptile #reptiles #reptiblr #birds #bird #birdblr

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aft3rhrs · 5 months

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— close ღ

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: forbidden romance, step!siblings au

warnings: yandere, mentions of violence (not towards the reader), pseudo incest, manipulation, corruption, mentions of somnophilia, praise, degradation, cockwarming, breast play, dirty talk, dom!jk but he's needy, (he's also a pervert), humping, creampie

It started out as an unconscious gesture; searching for your warmth. Hugs that lingered and limbs tangled together under the sheets on stormy nights. A primal yearning, seeping into his consciousness slowly; until sharing a bed became a normal occurance, no need for rain or thunder. Until exploring your skin under the cotton of your t-shirt no longer served to comfort you; but rather to feed the starving fire in his bones, prickling your skin with its heat. He always needed more.

It was so hard to think clearly through the fuzziness in your head, his own warmth filling you up; and the innocence lacing his lewd actions. A pretty, silken ribbon coiled around a snake.

"I love you," he'd whisper, "I want to be close to you. Is that so wrong?"

The words, so heavy, sank all the way into your skull, their weight slowly crushing your common sense; and all that was left were the raw, unfiltered instincts creeping beneath. In a way, Jungkook was right, wasn't he? And it wasn't like anyone would ever know...

You ended up disappearing deeper into that thought the more daring his touches became, the longer his hands lingered so intimately on skin that so clearly longed for them.

"I missed you so much... Couldn't wait to come home."

The whisper turned into a sigh, his hand brushing over your abdomen. A soft moan was muffled into your neck when his hips pushed forward, the drooling, swollen tip of his cock prodding against your slick entrance. He filled you up inch by inch, throbbing as you clenched around him, so fucking tight a dull bang sounded through the room before he was even halfway in. He paid no mind to his head hitting the headboard, hissing and squeezing your hip with an inked hand, eyes shut and stomach twisting hotly.

Unfortunately — or fortunately, at this point, who knew — hearing the gentle quiver in each breath Jungkook took for some reason only made you clench harder.

"Ahh—" a weak, breathy, little groan that made his voice break. "F-fuck.. Please stop, baby..."

You pressed your face into the pillow, trying to stifle the whimper pushing past your throat. His hands lowered down to your thigh, holding you open with ease so he could slide in deeper, make you take it all before his hips finally touched yours.

You've spent many nights spooning like this, eyelids heavy and fingers intertwined. At first, Jungkook obediently kept his touches limited to caressing your thighs and tummy, decorating them with mindless patterns.

Until that, too, was not enough.

Every night he buried himself inside you, he found it harder and harder not to cross the line — and you found it harder not to fall apart. "You feel so good," didn't suffice anymore; neither did the gentle, appreciative way he felt your body. He needed more. And who could blame Jungkook with the way your cunt gripped his cock, dripping wet and heavenly warm, like it was made for him.

"So perfect."

His palm roamed your thigh, getting dangerously close to the curve of your ass.

"So perfect for me," he whispered softly. "Must feel so empty in the mornings, huh? Pussy so pretty gaping after I leave— ah."

It would have looked even prettier with his cum spilling out of it, but the thought turned to dust the moment he felt you react to his words, the pulsing around his thick girth drawing a groan out of him. The corner of his lips twitched upwards lazily, his eyes falling shut.

You felt like you couldn't breathe.

Being inside you was meant to serve a purpose; to comfort and relax. You never thought Jungkook actually looked at you, let alone while you were unconscious, and the admission made the room around you spin in hazy circles.

"Filthy," he murmured, his fingers finding rest on your ass and squeezing.

You gasped, squeezing him right back, and Jungkook wasn't sure how much longer he could stay still, the heat blazing through him too consuming.

"Shh, shh, shh, baby," he tried to soothe, one hand reaching to envelop your own. "Doing so good. Such a good girl."

Nuzzling your neck, he helped your heartbeat slow down a little, his embrace solid; leading you straight back towards the safety zone.

"Wanna watch a movie?"

While grateful for the offered distraction, you shook your head, wishing for nothing more than to finally fall asleep. For a moment, it was silent, and it almost seemed like Jungkook had the same idea.

Then, his lips inched towards your ear and you felt him twitch inside you.

"Wanna make one?" He breathed.

Your eyes shot open, stomach turning. Jungkook felt you tense up in his arms, and for some reason it turned him on to see you struggle, thrown from your safety zone into the deep water.

"What if my cute, little sister got stuck under the couch? Or t-the table—ohh fuck—"

He couldn't quite finish the sentence, his dick beating as hard as his heart as your walls constricted.

"Jungkook!" you tried, though your voice barely rose above a choked whisper.

He hummed in response, brushing his nose along the nape of your neck.

"You started it."

How?

You didn't get a chance to ask. His hand sneaked under your shirt again, shamelessly sliding up to cup your breast. Tingles crept up your spine, making it arch beautifully, and Jungkook groaned at the slight movement.

"I mean, how filthy are you, baby? You find out I lift the sheets every morning to look at your little cunt while you're sleeping, and you clench around me like a bitch in heat."

He couldn't deny the ache shooting through his stiff cock as he taunted you in a whisper, goosebumps flooding his skin. Not once in his life has he ever spoken to you like this before; maybe that was one of the reasons for the bubbling heat unfurling in his stomach. Maybe that was the reason for the way your thighs quivered as well.

"I felt you then, too," he groaned, rolling your nipple in between the tips of his fingers. "Is that what you want? To get stuck under a couch and fucked by your brother?"

The next roll turned into a pinch. Arousal made you burn from head to toe, and for a reason you couldn't fathom the shame worked like gasoline, making the fire spread quicker. You were struggling to breathe again, too hot under the sheets.

"I'm starting to see a pattern here... You like being treated like some mindless toy? You wanna be a little doll for me?"

You were meant to stop him, say his name, but it came out as a pathetic moan, and you felt yours eyes water. It was a mix of mortification and the intense need pulsing in between your thighs, the kind you've never felt before, the kind you knew you shouldn't feel at all when it came to your stepbrother.

As if reading your mind, Jungkook slowly began to pull back; dragging every thick inch of his cock through your walls slowly, until only the tip remained inside.

The moment he parted from you completely, you instantly felt his absence. There was no better time to say something than now, when your ability to form sentences wasn't completely blurred by lust.

"Jungkook," you tried again in a whisper, swallowing, "please, stop using that word when you're—" a gasp cut you off when he flipped you onto your back, leaning his muscular arms on either side of your head.

Even in the darkness of your bedroom, it was impossible not to notice how fucked out he looked, smirking down at you.

"What word?" He murmured, unceremoniously lifting your shirt.

Your heart jumped, hand flying down to try to cover your chest, but he caught your wrist and slammed it against the pillow.

"What word?" He repeated. As if he needed to ask. As if he didn't feel you squirm every time he used it. "Sister?"

While you were trying to process the situation, heart beating out of your chest, he lowered his head and wrapped his mouth around a hardened nipple, sucking. A veiny hand reached to fondle the other breast and you moaned softly, eyelids fluttering. Jungkook grunted in response, dark gaze flickering up to your face. It was a sinful sight, the feeling even more so, his tongue so hot and wet as it flicked against the bud. But your hesitation must have shown, because after a moment he pulled away and caressed your face instead.

"Don't act so innocent, baby. You think I don't notice how you don't even need to touch yourself to let me inside? Just seeing my cock gets your panties wet. Besides," he leaned in closer, staring into widening eyes. "That's what you are, aren't you?"

There was a look in his eyes you haven't seen before; something possessive that prompted you to nod and agree, despite the nervousness buzzing through you.

Jungkook purred, rubbing his nose against yours.

"Then be a good little sister," he whispered, "and spread your legs for me."

A tremble went through your spine, and you found yourself doing just as he asked. It earned you a tender kiss on the cheek, then another. He loved you so much. Was is it so wrong that he loved you? No, and he would continue to assure you that there was nothing wrong with you loving him either.

Biting down on his lip, he grabbed his hard cock and gave it a pump, then two, shuddering when it touched the warmth of your cunt.

He felt his abdomen tense, keeping eye contact as he began pushing himself into the welcoming softness of the tight hole. He's never kissed you before, but his lips were practically on yours, brushing your mouth and releasing hot, short puffs of air. Swallowing harshly when he bottomed out, he felt the moan that escaped you, felt your hole twitching around him, greedy and so much wetter than when the night began.

"G-god," he forced out, fighting back a groan. He buried his face in the crook of your shoulder.

"I love you so fucking much, y-yeah. I'm so fucking hard. Always m-make me so fucking—ah—hard. So pretty."

He was so drunk on you, his words were beginning to slur. Warmth tingled through your chest in crashing waves. His hand went back to kneading your breasts, any traces of gentleness gone and replaced by need. He lifted himself up to look, fascinated by the way your body reacted when he twisted and abused your nipple. He could have came just from this, from the view under him and the feeling of your perfect pussy. And fuck, he wanted to come so bad.

"Fuck," he finally groaned, barely conscious of the little grinding movement his hips began to make. You were getting lost in the pleasure, your hips lifting subtly to aid his in gaining friction.

Immediately, mindlessly, his grinding became faster, his cock rubbing against your walls so well and reaching so deep you knew you were going to come; and he wasn't even fucking you properly.

"Ohh fuck, baby— need you so much, please."

You heard him sniffle, the mattress squeaking beneath you.

"Please let me come. I need to come."

"Jungkook," you breathed, "I, I—" your stomach tightened, the tension in it so close to bursting.

Was this wrong? It didn't feel wrong; Jungkook always said that it's okay to have a special bond, that it's okay to feel good, it's your business. And you knew you weren't connected by blood, but you were still connected by family ties.

"A-are you still on the pill?" He asked brokenly, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah, I— am, oh—"

With a low groan, he humped you faster, making your legs stiffen around him.

"Can I come inside? Need to come inside. Need to fill this sopping fucking cunt."

You whined, hiding your face in his neck, a tiny part of you still aware that your parents were home, asleep. At this point though, it didn't really matter anymore. You wanted to feel him come so badly; you wanted to feel him fall apart with you.

"Yes, please," you whispered breathlessly, your fingers digging into his broad shoulders. "Come inside me."

The moan he let out was obscene, but you didn't get a chance to beg any more; your vision became blurry and you couldn't hold back any longer if you tried. His hand slapped over your mouth just in time to muffle the scream that broke through, his teeth biting harshly into your shoulder to dull his the desperate sounds of his own orgasm. His hips stilled, dick twitching and shooting rope after rope of cum until his mind went numb.

You've never felt this sated before; so full and complete, lost in the bliss. It took a while for Jungkook to gather up the strength to lift himself up, but you didn't mind at all, his weight on you adding to the comfort and the butterflies still swarming around your tummy. What caught your attention was the silky lips touching your own; a chaste, loving kiss, the first one he dared to give you, making your heart pound.

"I'm all yours. Are you mine?"

Not that he needed to ask; of course you were his. He'd sever someone's arm before letting them even think of putting a finger on you. But he did need to hear you say it. He needed you to know that you belonged to him only, that no one else was allowed to do the things he did to you. And you sighed, so sweetly, whispering your answer straight into his mouth.

"Only yours."

Eyes hooded, Jungkook stared at your beautiful face, peace taking over your features. You were already falling asleep, and he could barely keep his eyes open, even though arousal still stirred in groin. He came so much it drained most of his strength, but he'd be able to sneak into your bed again. And this time, you'd let him give it to you properly, you'd beg for it like you begged for his cum. You'd let him fuck you again and again until you were so dumbed out on orgasms and love, you'd barely question waking up in a new apartment he rented for you to share.

Your parents wouldn't question it either; they'd have no reason to. Wasn't it just heartwarming for siblings to be close?

#jungkook x reader #yandere bts #bts smut #bts reactions #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts yandere #jungkook smut

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eldritch-spouse · 17 days

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You are running naked in the Jungle, searching frantically.

You look and you see another human, the first one you've seen in months and you run towards them.

“Thank God! Listen, we need to get out of here immediately, it's dangerous! Do you know the way out? Back to civilization?”

You feel a tentacle around your ankles

[Months? Couldn't be me, I'd just die. Let's downsize that to a week. Fem reader.]

TW: Reader has a self-loathing inner monologue; Reader is in a bad place mentally; Dubcon to full consent.

It was a stupid idea.

You knew that when you started it. So did everyone that tried to convince you otherwise. But common sense isn't something that could have stopped someone like you, someone who was ill enough to think taking a break from life in the middle of buttfuck nowhere would work out.

You didn't even have any sort of experience in this type of thing. Neither did you seek any kind of useful tips.

You just wanted to escape.

And you did, literally, into a forested nightmare that you got lost in not even hours after your arrival.

You just wish you could find your car, you just wish you could find somewhere warm and comforting to sleep in.

It's been days. Probably a week by now. Your stuff all disappeared, somehow. You swear you're not tripping, it all just vanished! Your phone, your bag, your keys...

Your back hurts, the nights are cold and humid and you're sure you're getting sick by now. Clean water would be a godsend, you've been drinking and cleaning yourself with some questionable-looking sources for a while. Not to mention you can't feed yourself properly, and you certainly don't know how to hunt.

Not that there's much to hunt. Every time you think you hear a peep, there's a brush of foliage and silence dominates seconds later.

You're going to die.

A horrifying reminder that has your chest pounding painfully and sweat glistening on your forehead.

You don't want to die.

But the modern human wasn't born for the wilderness, and you can only stand being clothed for a little longer before the sensation of being dirty has you clawing the skin off your body.

It was a fucking miracle that you managed to get a small fire going.

Finally.

You can heat up that fish you caught earlier.

If it's still good. Is... This is safe to eat, right?

You lean to sniff at the leaf-wrapped catch.

Eh. You can stomach it...

God, you're starving.

One thing that's been bugging you for a while is how... Deserted this whole place feels.

You're no wildlife expert, but isn't this kind of location supposed to be brimming with animals? Why is it that, everywhere you go, it's mostly just you and insects bumbling around?

Shouldn't there be some mammals here? Some birds? Maybe a squirrel or a snake... Aren't there predators you'd have to worry about in this kind of scenario?

Ironically, being alone makes you feel even more stressed out than if you were constantly surrounded by wild animals.

You huddle closer to the small fire.

Alone.

But always so on edge.

Always getting that tingling feeling crawling up your spine.

The one that screams- Look, look behind you! You're in danger!

The phantom feeling of something hovering behind your neck, goosebumps that hardly fade every time you do turn around to check and find nothing.

Is this a normal amount of paranoia for your situation? Is this your brain trying to cope with the fact that you haven't seen much wildlife so far?

Or is there something watching you from beyond the trees?

Something stalking.

A persistence predator, coming and going, to check on its latest prey.

Oh, and what a catch you are. Big and juicy compared to the things that probably roam this place -Roamed, more like...

Have you wandered into the territory of something that'll inevitably snap its jaws around your neck?

...

Just eat the fucking fish already.

Food.

Focus on the present.

The smell starts to hit your nose. Salt, oh what you wouldn't do for some simple salt. How do people get salt?

You're glad you got some berries along the way too, because this fish is probably going to taste like ass. You're sure they aren't poisonous or anything of the sort. If they are, then you've been eating them for the past few days so honestly you could keel over at any moment.

You'll see.

Once the fish has roasted enough where it's likely safe to consume, you peel it open messily and start munching indiscriminately, ravenous.

It's... Well, it's sustenance.

It's about the most nutritious thing you've eaten since you got here.

This survival thing is harder than the fake actors on TV make it seem.

A sudden crack of a branch has you pausing mid-chew.

You truly feel like a deer when your head snaps up and you stand very still to listen for a follow-up.

Nothing.

Tired eyes strain, trying to make sense of a darkened blob in the distance.

Huh.

What the fuck is that thing?

Tall.

Two legs...

Arms?!

Shit- Could it be?!

That can't be possible, someone else roaming around this maddening forest. Is that a sign that you're somehow getting closer to civilization? That you're making it out by sheer luck? What cosmic force could be on your side this time? Maybe they just live here, like some kind of off-grid retired agent- Okay, you've been watching too many movies.

Without stopping to think twice about frankly important concerns regarding this sudden development, you place the cooked fish down on the leaf it was previously wrapped in and start scooting forward towards the silhouette you saw.

That build can only belong to a man. Well, you assume as much anyway. It's hard to spot more from here, with the foliage covering their form.

" H- Hey... "

You haven't used your voice in a hot minute. Some part of you almost doesn't recognize it. A healthy dose of paranoia stops you from brushing aside the obstacles and facing this person.

But you need to at least try, right?

The worst that can happen is that you really are hallucinating for some reason or another.

With a surge of bravery, but mostly desperation, you push all the branches and greenery away to run towards this person, opening your mouth to greet them, to beg for help, ask for new clothes or just something cooked!

" Hey! Please, I need your... Help? "

Nothing.

There's no one.

But that doesn't make sense, you clearly saw a silhouette, someone was there! You didn't even have to run that far, how could it be that you already lost sight of them? That they could get away so silently?

No. Everything's wrong.

Before you know it, your vision is blurring and your face heats as tears stain your cheeks.

Why... Why would your mind fuck with you like this? Going from a shining shred of hope to complete despair in seconds has you screaming inside.

Why is this happening to you?

Are you really about to die in a stupid fucking patch of nothing just because you can't deal with the stress in your life like a normal person? Just because you made one bad decision when everything was weighing heavy on your conscience? Are you really so incompetent and so pointless as a human that this is how your story ends?

Anger and regret blind you to everything, fingers course through your knotted hair as you sob and tug, having no way to calm yourself and nothing to unleash your tension onto.

The moment you try to stomp your foot in a petulant act, you find it rooted to the ground. It takes a couple more insistent tugs upward for you to realize that something is coiled around it, keeping it firmly planted.

The train wreck of emotions and bile of self-hating thoughts takes a backseat, goosebumps pricking your skin from tip of the head to your very toes. The first thing you think of is some kind of snake, eyes bulging behind digits.

You look down frantically, shaking, but in spite of the sky being clear, all you see is this reddish mass, with neither end nor beginning. What... What the fuck is it?!

The thing tightens around your ankle, starting to slide up the length of your right leg, up to your knee. And immediately, you panic, kicking and shrieking, achieving absolutely nothing and getting promptly tugged to the ground.

Yeah.

Maybe freaking out isn't the best bet for your survival here.

Twigs and dirt get on your face, it takes some coughing and swiping to finally clear your field of view. But honestly...

You almost wish you hadn't.

Curved over your prone figure, staring down, is a creature you have never seen before.

Bipedal and quite large, like the silhouette you had glimpsed before, but so very far from human. The reddish coloration spanning the length of that bizarre body makes him -Because, again, you can only assume that is a male- Look as if he's made of flesh quickly molded together to imitate the figure of a human. What initially made you think he was skinless soon turns into the realization that there was never room for skin anyway.

Because his body is quite literally comprised of what you can only call tentacles. Tendrils and coiling tissue that clings and organizes itself in the vague lie of an organism like yours.

From elbows to fingers and knees to feet, the tendrils become a lot more discernable, coiling and uncoiling while he watches curiously. The thing around your leg is one of said tendrils, coming from the mass forming his own. Along the length of its torso, sharp-toothed mouths form and shift, almost seeming to have a mind of their own as they scent the air and snap at nothing.

That head has got to be the most striking feature. It's an amalgamation of tentacles all wrapped around each other, leaving room for an incredibly sharp golden eye to fix you in place. This thing looks like it crawled out of a sleeping ocean, like the roots and vines of an ancient jungle came together to form a totally new an extension of themselves. He looks like he's been sculped from the guts of others yet also composed in a way your mind could never hope to grasp.

Somewhere between trying to determine if you're dealing with an animal or a person, you reach the conclusion that an animal wouldn't stare you down for this long.

An animal would take a couple of seconds to determine if you're prey or predator and act accordingly. He would have snapped your neck or suffocated you like a boa constrictor with those tentacles by now.

And yet, he just stares.

Like you're the strangest creature to ever grace the woods this thing probably calls a home. You're as freaky to him as he is to you, enough so that he seems out of depth on how to proceed.

You stare back.

This has got to be the monster that you saw back there. Watching you. Now that you think about it, maybe this was the reason you'd always have a tingling sensation reminding you that you're not alone. Because he was there all that time, stalking.

Plenty were the moments he could have dug your grave until now. It's strange that he hasn't. Because surely, he's seen how you're failing to adapt to this location. Every step you take, you're stumbling and getting pricked, hungry, thirsty, afraid, disoriented- You're a fish out of water and he could have ended that misery a long time ago.

Odd.

Neither of you move. It blinks, vertically. You blink too.

And then, it makes this chitter.

Wet, like a gargle, followed by some kind of rumbling as more of those tendrils that form his limbs unwind, explore.

They reach down towards your frame when he squats, and you stifle the urge to scream at the sight of them getting nearer. Because who knows what he's going to do...

They poke and prod, grabbing lightly at parts of you, wet yet not quite. Two coil around your arms, then elbows, then wrists.

Other strays squirm around your sides, unintentionally triggering a squirming reflex as you muffle helpless laughter.

The monster seems intrigued by the noise anyway, making his own vocalizations as if attempting to communicate with you.

Abruptly, there's a blur of movement and you're yanked into the air by the arms, shrieking in fear and pain.

Not for long, because more of his freaky, flowing appendages wind around your middlesection, hips and knees, pulling in different directions.

In seconds, mere moments, this being has you suspended in the air.

Immediately, your panicked mind is going places where it absolutely shouldn't.

He seems more relaxed now that you're restrained, that gaze becomes softer, clouded with curiosity. To be monitoring you this long, you don't doubt he has his own questions and intrigue regarding how you work.

When that hulking red mass walks towards you, anxiety prevents your mouth from staying shut.

" H- Hi? "

A sound not too different from the peep of a skittish bird.

One that causes him to cock his head in a brief pause, processing the noise, and returning it with his own light gurgle. One of the mouths on his figure gets the pitch right down to a T.

Soon, he's lacing a hand through your hair, grabbing it, manipulating the protrusion and stroking your head inquisitively. He squeezes and almost scritches at your scalp, reminding you of the way someone acts when spotting a particularly cute cat. Yes, hair is likely a mystery to this creature, you can kind of understand why it'd linger here.

But that doesn't change the fact that you're being patted like a pet by a strange, unknowable creature- And that's morbidly hilarious.

When your cheeks start to puff with laughter, his attention finally deviates. You can feel the tendrils that form every digit when he splays them across your face, tracing your eyebrows, playing with the tip of your nose and even trying to poke into your ears- Something he halts when you jerk away rapidly each time.

When he starts trying to put a digit in your mouth, he's a lot more careful, aware that you have teeth and can bite, even if yours are quite small and blunt compared to the ones he sports. He succeeds, because your strength is nothing compared to that of a monster of his size and nature. The digit he dips into your mouth rests there placidly for a couple of moments.

You aren't sure what to do. Biting is not a bright idea when you know this creature can probably easily dismember you in this position. He himself looks slightly lost, as if he put his finger in your mouth out of impulse mostly. A false sense of security begets your own curiosity.

Perhaps you're just insane already -That probably says a lot about your overall mental fortitude- But seeing another living being that behaves and looks vaguely like what you might call a person makes you feel calmer than you have since the beginning of all this. You know it's an irrational feeling, that you're not any safer than before, but it's a thread of comfort you desperately cling to.

And it's what allows you to look this thing in the eye while you experimentally lick his bizarre tendril-clump of a finger.

It was only a little flick.

But naturally, he felt it.

The monster rumbles something incomprehensible at you, leaning closer still to cast a shadow upon your front. In this position, he looms between your clothed legs, though seems mostly unaware of the lurid position he's got you in, fixated on your mouth.

The sensation of his digit unfolding into two separate thin tentacles is bizarre. You picture a human finger splitting in two and curse your brain. Said tentacles poke and wriggle, capturing your tongue between themselves.

Yes, that's probably the part of your body that most closely resembles the mass of prehensile tissue composing his own.

The touch has you drooling, saliva trying to break down something probably few to no humans have ever come in contact with. He tastes slimy yet slightly rugged in some areas, not something you'd write home about.

Reflex has your poor muscle squirming to be freed, but that only causes him to tighten the grasp upon it. And, surprisingly, to let out this humid noise that sounds far too much like a groan of delight for you to interpret it as anything else.

There's a pause from your part as you wonder, incredulously, if this thing just got turned on.

There's not much time to ponder, because that digit very quickly slips out, and as he examines the sheen of drool on it, something else steadily approaches your mouth.

Ah, you've graduated from finger to proper tentacle mouthfucking. Commendable.

Making light of the situation is about the least recommended course of action, but after what you've endured so far, you think you deserve to be a little, tiny bit, insane.

Apparently convinced that you won't try to harm him, the crimson monster wiggles that darkened appendage and taps it against your lips, seeming very interested in how this is unfolding.

You should not have opened your mouth.

But you did.

And he visibly brightened up.

The tendril wedges itself in without much hesitation, resting upon your tongue. Much thicker than his digit, your jaw has no choice but to stretch, and your lips wrap around it in a rather phallic, dirty image. You barely realize you're making an effort not to scrape your teeth on the appendage. Perhaps because the sensation of it is a tad spongy and remarkably similar to that of any standard manhood.

And, as if to give reason to your lewd comparison, he shudders at the warmth of your wet mouth, the thing pulsing within you.

While he mostly simply lets the extremity sit there motionlessly, you do explore, trying to lick around it out of morbid curiosity. He watches you avidly, but apparently, what really gets to this bizarre entity is feeling you suck down the saliva that pools in your cheeks, swallowing.

Suction. Because of course he'd enjoy that. What man doesn't?

That begs the question, is the thing in your mouth part of his genitals?

Again, thinking is a privilege you can't afford when that tentacle starts sliding down your throat experimentally. It doesn't take him long to trigger your gag reflex, a violent kick and curve forward from your part causing him to pull back quickly. But he continues to test the waters afterwards, probably seeking the sensation of your stressed throat muscles tightening around him.

Instinct takes over.

Because even if he seems truly out of his depth maneuvering a human body, he's curious and, if you had to guess, attracted to you. Enough to put sensitive things in your mouth, to fetishize that part of you. Hormones make things work, which means he soon realizes he can make repetitive back and forth motions to get friction.

And so, just like that, you're getting fucked in the mouth, inside the woods, by an eldritch abomination of a monster you might find in a cheaply made H. P Lovecraft rip-off.

It should not arouse you.

It should horrify you.

... But it doesn't.

Those reactions are missing, leaving you befuddled at your own enjoyment of the situation. Are you just happy to have someone around? Has it truly been so long since you received this type of attention that you don't mind if it comes from an entity of unknown origin who is clearly not civilized? Are you just a freak actively discovering new sides of your sexuality?

Who knows anymore.

All you know is that there's a wet noise ringing every time he thrusts that slimy thing into your mouth, that he's resorted to gripping your hips hard while making intense eye contact, that he growls and gurgles whenever you have enough control to suck at him. If you had to guess, it's his unwavering, lewd and fascinated observation of your face and lips that has you likely forming a wet spot on your poor pants.

You think your wanton squirming is subtle, but reality proves otherwise when the monster starts getting distracted, one of those pupils shifting to the rhythmic movement of your legs as you shamelessly seek friction. At first, he seems irritated, as if questioning why you'd want to leave when you'd been so docile so far.

Then it appears to click.

You can almost see it in his face, in spite of how inhuman it is, that eureka moment.

And the tendril in your mouth slows down to a crawl.

He starts pawing and pulling at your pants, but not aimlessly. Not at all. He's studied you, he knows what he's looking for, the button and the zipper. You pale a few shades, the only way this thing could know how to take pants off is if it saw you doing it, if it saw you relieving yourself or trying to bathe to avoid infections.

Just how many embarrassing moments did he catch?

Too many, probably.

Still, you're pleasantly surprised to see him so easily remove the garment, fluidly shifting the positions of his tendrils to avoid tangling the fabric in them. Your pants come off without a single blemish, aside from those they sustained previously. Is he removing them so carefully because he thinks you need them to survive or is he just being considerate?

Your underwear is treated the same way, he spares no extra thought to it, and only appears to pause once your pussy is exposed.

Usually, you'd feel self-conscious in this position. There's not a lot you can do to properly groom yourself without the simple privilege of soap and whatnot... But what does it matter here? As far as you know, for this monster, pussy is pussy regardless of it being shaved or bush-heavy, "perfumed" or au naturel.

And a soaked, needy hole is hard for a lonesome monster to ignore.

He looms closer to your womanhood, watching closely, gargling a string of vocalizations you still can't interpret, until another tentacle slithers into scene and slaps against your cunt.

No, literally.

The thing whips from mound to the bottom of your entrance, swiping up and down in a pace that has you seeing stars every time it flicks your clitoris and catches on a clenching entrance. To say your legs kick out occasionally from the intensity of the stimulus is no exaggeration, but he's quick to adapt his hold so you have no way of wiggling aside.

You don't know why it's doing that, but frankly, you don't care much, it just feels good. A racing heart and a heaving chest have you tipping your head back to moan against the thing stuffed in your mouth. You realize, a little belatedly, that he was probably mostly just trying to lube that appendage with your own arousal.

Your plump pussy still tingles when the assault stops on all sides, you strain to watch what he's doing, observing the monster evaluate the sheen now coating that wriggling extremity.

He's less careful than before now, a product of excitement no doubt, parking the somewhat thicker length at your entrance and pushing in tentatively for only a couple of moments before ramming a decent chunk of that tendril into your cunt.

Eyes bulging, you spit out a beastial sound that startles the monster, panting as you try to get used to the sudden stretch. He's reached a depth within you no one else has found before, and the pressure is such so that you've been robbed of the ability to speak.

He shouldn't be that far in you.

You may come from extremely distinct backgrounds, but some things are vastly universal, like the facial expression of pain. Which, credit where credit is due, he picks up on relatively fast. The moment the entity removes a good chunk of its length, you sigh and sag in momentous relief. That's a lot better. You still feel as if you're being stuffed to the brim, but there's no longer that stabbing pain.

He understands what he did wrong after a couple of still moments and some bizarre palping sensation from your insides.

Much like the previous tendril in your mouth, this one too starts to thrust back and forth, with more care now, experimenting with differing speeds and curling in various ways as he gets closer and closer to watch how you react.

You're no researcher, but maybe if the mounting pleasure wasn't swimming to your head and making it very very hard to think coherently right now, you'd be fascinated with the way this monster is being so thorough in his examination of you, wanting to learn what makes you tick in every way, what has you choking out noises and rolling your eyes.

So intense is the heat rushing through your body from his repeated, filthy motions that you hardly notice anything happening until his all-seeing eye is almost glued to your face. The tips of the tentacles that make up his rather disturbing head unfurl and appear to drip downwards, clinging to the sides of your face so he can fix it in place, observe every detail as soon as you part your mouth to moan and gasp and babble nonsense. Each noise you make is eagerly eaten up, he tries to mimic the same motions that make you squeal as if begging for more of them.

There's no time to warn or even shriek about it, your orgasm barrels its way down your body with the intensity of a bullet, curving you in its tentacles, a breathless "oh" being all you can offer as your abdominal muscles contract and you squeeze the life out of the tendril inside you, making a mess that drips to the ground between you two.

It may not have been easy to spot in that pleasured trance, but the monster halted to watch it all unfold, mesmerized. Retracting to test the nature of the new slick now grossly painting you.

By the time you're done riding the high of your climax, you've been shifted again, this time a little lower, and you find the entity staring down to the spot where your core meets something that wasn't there before.

You'll admit you didn't have the time to properly process the full extent of his appearance when he first appeared before your stunned self. Now you're unsure if this monster had some kind of pelvic pouch, or if he merely unfolded two more tendrils out of his mass where one would expect a dick to be.

The two appendages wriggle and roll impatiently, seeking each other before parting in search of heat, of wetness, slapping against your belly and thighs. They may not look like it, but you can only guess those are his cocks. And he's considering something quietly.

It's hard to tell what he's thinking right now, the communication barrier doesn't help. Maybe he worries that the length of them will hurt you. Perhaps he wonders if he can impregnate you this way. It could just be that he thinks perhaps mating with a strange human is not a good idea, but the way those things are spreading a coat of thick precum on your skin says otherwise.

Instead of letting his stall further, a small hand reaches down to feather over the tip of one of those members, immediately getting captured and pulled at in the process. His figure rattles, hips offering a useless piston before his head snaps back up to watch you.

" ... Try putting one in. "

You murmur, knowing damn well it can't understand a single word.

He looks back down, peels back to spread your cuntlips invitingly, then seems to make up his mind, allowing the very tips of both squirming cocks to connect with your entrance. They've found warmth and they're desperate to worm in, stretching and flirting with your walls.

You grin incredulously, already trying to guess what it'll feel like, gasping as soon as he leans forward and allows more exploration. The first hint of a burn arrives as he rumbles in delight-

But a branch snaps in the distance.

And the moment is ruined because he halts immediately, your cry of frustration ignored entirely.

His body twists in an unnatural way so he can glance behind, inhuman eye seeing through greenery and undoubtedly spotting something off.

In the tense quiet that has now settled, even you pick up on the faraway mumbles of what must be people.

Eyes widening, snapping out of this episode, you begin to squirm earnestly now, wanting to see them, to find a way back, to go home!

Finally, people came looking for you!

The monster snaps back around, making you realize how truly fucked you are in these circumstances. Something flashes in that gaze, a hint of contempt, of hurt maybe.

Something too human to fall upon such a nightmarish face.

You can only scream as more tendrils dart in lightening speeds to cocoon you inside them. That single noise being all that escapes before you're forcibly gagged and physically thrown over the monster's shoulder.

His molding body swings from tree to tree in a blur of movement, taking you God knows where...

And leaving your saviors in the dust.

#Sever oc #terato tag #monsterfucker #yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #monster boyfriend #tentacle monster #monster x reader #monster x you #minors dni #not sfw

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ataraxiaspainting · 18 days

Text

The Chauffeur.

Yan Aventurine x F Reader.

Synopsis: Life has always made losers out of people like you. You dream even now that that could be changed. But can it really?

Warnings: Yandere themes, manipulation, kidnapping, stalking, drugging, misogyny, abuse of power, and mentions of violence.

Word Count: 3.2k.

*~*~*~*

When thrust into a world filled with illusions of chance, one can only hope that change will soon arise.

The company, the appearances, the losers, the winners; nothing ever changes, not even the dreams that things will.

How you are treated is a gamble all on its own too, despite you wishing it were not so. Lady Luck has yet to smile upon you, but instead of gifting you with snake eyes, she gives you the utmost displeasure of being slapped, being threatened, or having your salary lowered. You sometimes wish she would just give you the lowest score on a physical die instead of an invisible one.

You wish she would have made you less appealing to unwanted stares, would have made you have a burned face that would scare off anyone as soon as they looked at you. Hell, even make you be an old woman begging for spare change. That would be a better existence than to live in this body, where you are forced to wave and smile and conceal the bruises and slap marks whenever they appear in a place not covered by your dress. Not that your dress covers anything.

You have three jobs in this casino. Your first one is to spin the wheel or make the letters visible after all the bets are placed and the speaker gives you the signal to do so. Your second one is to always look presentable, your boss’s definition of “best”. Appearances will bring in more onlookers, he said. Just get yourself all dolled up. Okay, toots?

You conform every time your clothes change in color, size, and pattern because after all, they could just replace you with someone more willing.

After all, you have your mouth to feed and your own back to clothe.

So, you endure not all of it, but most of it. You endure the times your assigned makeup artist has called you a whore for not letting him stay in your room during his breaks, the times the suited mascot of this place squeezed you a bit too tight when you were told to take a few photos with him. You pretend not to notice things like that, because if you start a conflict who knows what will happen?

The applause of onlookers is always paired up with lewd comments about your body instead of congratulations to the winner.

The heels you are paid to wear always manage to make you trip onto someone, or rely on some flirty stranger to help you walk to and fro. Your manager told you to grow your hair out when you first started working here, and when it finally reached the desired length he gave you very few options when it came to which hairstyle you wanted. If you remember correctly, it couldn’t have been more than four. All of them had curtain bangs and waves. There was even one, you think, that had something to do with bleaching.

You opted for the one that let you keep the most of your natural hair pattern, not that that was a lot.

Your dresses always come with a slit to see one of your legs. Temptations bring in more dreams, and with dreams come people wanting to be big shots. That is what your boss said to you after you questioned your given work wardrobe. You did not want his glare and mocking laugh to be aimed at you any longer, so you nodded and went to change. He praised you for it later, but your brain protected itself by not remembering what he said.

All you can recall is the way you shuttered at him wrapping an arm around your bare shoulders, a lit cigarette in his hand.

You don’t shutter as often anymore after he scowled and threatened to place it on your palm.

Your world is simpler than it was before when you were sleeping on the streets and given just barely enough to scrape by. You only have three jobs to do, but the third one holds the most importance. Sabotage the gamble. Never let them win unless they hold enough power that your boss permits you to stand back.

There have been very few instances of that happening, but they happen nonetheless. They are this casino’s equivalent of a blue moon. There are telltale signs before you are told of their status. Their clothes are always glittering like an invisible spotlight is on them. They always have guards, and people sticking to their arms like glue just itching for a taste. It is an even rarer sight to see one of them being chosen to be their partner for the night. You can tell when a person can buy you off with their proportion of pocket change. Not that anyone has, much to your gratitude.

This man is just like them. You can sense the ego dripping off of him, and can sense how much all those rings on his fingers cost.

This is the real deal. You can tell. That earring of his is probably worth twice that of all of your organs. That is being generous with the price you would most likely hold on the black market. In reality, perhaps thrice. That is not even going into his pink sunglasses, which have tiny gems stuck on the sides.

He has a gun holster, you think, but the gun itself is nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps one of his men is holding it for him. Perhaps.

From the corner of your eye, you see your boss amongst the crowd, nodding slowly at you. He is sitting in a booth a bit more distanced from the others, three women on either side of him. Every time he sits there, it is your first signal that something is surely going to happen. Good or bad. This time it is good, and you will end the night with nothing less than a few thousand credits for playing your part well. Last time it was bad, and you ended up having so much more than a simple slap on the wrist.

He has three dice between his pointer and middle fingers. One green, one teal, and one dark blue. They are each twelve-sided from what you can see, but the sigils remain unseen by you. Maybe for the best, you think, you don’t want him to take up as much memory space as he already has.

All you want is for this shift to be over, but with this unplanned patron skipping the line of gamblers to gamble himself, who knows how long until the dice stops rolling?

Your fellow staff members look happier, displaying genuine smiles on their faces. Not that you can blame them though, most of them are new hires because your boss tends to fire people on the daily.

“Hold on a sec, please. Madam, I would like to use my lucky charms before you spin the wheel. If you don’t mind, that is.” The man requests. It is not a sincere question, you note, because he clasps onto the dice in his palm so lightly like they are gravity-resistant.

Instead of looking at him, you look at your boss first. He doesn’t seem to be paying attention to you any longer with what looks like one of the women being straddled on his left thigh. Hmm. It’s your call then, you suppose.

“Sure,” You answer, trying to put on your best polite grin. “Who am I to deny such an… experienced gambler?”

“Thank you for the praise,” He replies, his free arm bending as he scratches the back of his head. “But you… misunderstand, I am just a simple bettor, nothing more.”

The positioned desk with a microphone attached has just become this casino’s newest playing ground. Faster than you can blink, the dice are let out of his hand and roll. When they stop, you can hear cheers and praises, as if they are all meant for him.

A spotlight is focused on him too, a color more dazzling than the brightest glittering gold.

“I’m going to choose the peach.”

You nod and spin the wheel, all of the colors blurring together, slowly but surely soon coming to a stop.

The pink area with the same peach is on the pointer, and the crowd all clap their hands and dance.

*~*~*~*

During your breaks, you are allowed to go to your recovery room to do whatever limited array of activities your bookshelf and dusty boxes under your bed had in store for you. The breaks are always nothing more than half an hour, but you earned the right to have your breaks’ minimal times be nothing less than ten minutes.

“I just… noticed you never play the games you so often assist, that’s all.” The blond stranger continues to follow as you speedily walk down the hallway to the backrooms. Little by little, the golden paint that coats the walls turns into a dull beige, a sure sign that your treasured little hiding place is near.

“I wish I could but right now I have my lunch break, sir.”

His speed is nowhere near diminishing, no, if anything it is getting more profound.

If you did not have unwanted company, if you did not have to worry about the security cameras in every corner of this part of the casino, if you did not have this job you hate to your very core, you would have torn the high heels off of your blistered feet.

But you cannot because you do have unwanted company, you do have to worry about the security cameras in every corner of this part of the casino, you do have this job you hate to your very core. So, the high heels stay on and make sounds with every step you take.

“Come on, Miss [First]. I know you want to.” You have been unable to get him off your back for the past ten minutes. Even when you attempted to walk around the less crowded parts of this casino in circles, he was there. “[First]. A lovely name, if I say so myself. [First], [First], [First].”

It takes everything in you not to frown or cross your arms. That could be considered rude, especially to someone as high standing as this man. “Utmost sincere apologies, sir, but I really-”

“Aventurine.” He interrupts. “It’s Aventurine, Miss. You don’t have to call me sir, you know. We’re alone here in this stank hallway. Without my money, I’m just like you, and I’m sure we can become great friends.”

“In my opinion, I believe that there are better people than me to form connections with, Mister Aventurine.” You try not to huff in frustration, but you could have sworn that one was let out.

In the distance, you see your recovery room, the number two on it turning off and on every few seconds.

It has always been that way. The only one who often gets renovations to their living quarters is your boss. The rest of you are nothing more than cow fodder to him, even his assistants.

“You should head back, Mister Aventurine.” You say, the smile on your face trying its hardest not to fade as you turn to look at him. “I don’t want your seat at the pinball machine to be taken from you.”

“And who do you think would have the guts to steal from me?” Aventurine smirks, one of his hands lowering his sunglasses down to the tip of his nose. “No one is that suicidal, that’s the hard truth.”

He winks at you faster than you can get a grip on your door’s handle.

“Just think about it, m’kay?”

In a flash, he starts walking off, leaving you all alone.

*~*~*~*

“Ah, you’re back!”

Aventurine is at the start of the hallway, the part where the gold paint is the most pronounced.

“My break ended.” You say your answer quickly and simply as you walk past him. Instead of your high heels, you are wearing black flats.

Your feet were bleeding much more than usual when you finally made it to your room. Yeah. That is the excuse you will give to your boss if he asks. He seems drunk and is still at his little booth, not to mention it is dark in the casino at the moment, so there is quite a low chance he will.

“You don’t look so good.” Aventurine nearly shouts, causing you to walk even faster to make it to the wheel of fortune. “Did something happen?”

His voice is soon drowned out by the crowds of people talking. Just a few more seconds. A few more seconds, and he won’t be able to bother you much longer and he will head back to that pinball machine he has been hoarding for the past hour.

You move past the ogling eyes of drunk consumers and move past the guards, who always let you behind the stage without a hassle. Your flats don’t make nearly as much noise as the heels as you walk up the five steps.

You only have three minutes before the curtains withdraw from their positions, so you pull on your bun to make it tighter and put the stray baby hairs behind your ears. You brush any dust off your dress and then brush off any dust that is on the gambling wheel. The cleaners only work after all the shows are done and all the guests go home, so it is up to you to make sure the show is always looking its best.

You hear the countdown from the electric speakers and the onlookers.

“Five! Four!”

You take a few deep breaths.

“Three!”

You hear the confetti cannons turn on.

You close your eyes and think about the best possible future, one where you can be happy. Where you can be yourself. Where your smiles are real. Where your happiness is real. Reading for as much as your heart desires. Trying all the delicious-looking food no matter how strange it may look.

“Two!”

Instead of hearing the number one, you just hear more cheers.

The curtains move to the designated sides of the stage, and the near-blinding spotlight shines at you. You smile, waving at the crowds of people, until you see something that nearly causes your facade to crumble down.

Aventurine stands there at the start of the line, holding his three dice just like before.

*~*~*~*

You avoid Aventurine just long enough for the casino to close for the night. It was not an easy task by any means, but somehow retreating to the bar on the job and making simple conversations with other patrons and fellow staff members was enough to repel him.

Since it is after hours, the bartender has gone back to his room to sleep after downing five shots of Spade. He will be hungover tomorrow, that much is certain.

Ah, to only work when it is far past dusk. A dream only for your boss’s most favored employees. Aside from the bartender, there is his guard, who has been seen for the past few months being so drunk that he cannot even stand; he has to sit on the floor.

There is no room for you in that little club. But your gut tells you that it is better this way, for no one unfavored can see what goes on inside.

It is only you in this bar now, spinning around on the stool closest to the gates that lead to the other side. It’s you. Despite this job, despite everything, you are still you. All you ever have to be is you. Only you.

The glass in front of you is half full. Half full with Melancholy. It is only slightly bitter, the rest of the flavor profile being floral and refreshing. This type of shot glass is only reserved for people as high standing as Aventurine due to the little scattering of gold at the rim.

They are stuck there so they won’t choke whoever is drinking from the cup. For once, your boss put his resources into something partially useful. If only he would do the same with your salary and put some more credits into it.

The door’s chiming bell rings. You hear the front door then close. Did the bartender forget to lock the door?

Should you say something? You don’t want to get in trouble with your boss tomorrow, and his hangover will certainly make his wrath ten times worse than it already was.

The sound of footsteps doesn't fade, and another sound accompanies it soon enough; Aventurine’s voice.

“Hey. Just wanted to drop by. See what you’re doing this late all alone, you know?”

Before you can turn around and politely ask him to leave, he sits on the stool beside you. Vibrant eyes make contact with yours.

A hand goes on your shoulder, squeezing with a purpose; to keep you quiet.

“Are you drunk? You smell like Blossom Dew and Soothing Soda. Heavily.”

He's exaggerating, you know this. You've barely had a sip. It's not nearly enough to get you intoxicated. Not at this early into the after-hours. You still need to have a few more beverages before heading to your room for the night.

“Mister Aventurine, I am going to have to ask you to leave.” As he chuckles, your body instinctively reacts, possibly as a protective response. You wouldn’t blame it for acting this way, even under ordinary circumstances.

“I don’t think you’re in the right place to be making orders like that. Maybe if you worked for the IPC, but you’d have to work at the speed of light to get anything close to my ranking.” His hands slither from his sides to your glass, tilting it so he can see the dark yellow liquid within it. “Hmm. Do you not have a high alcohol tolerance, Miss [First]?”

“I do.” You rebuke. He shrugs his shoulders.

“I don’t think I should believe you, honestly.” With one of his hands, he takes off his pink sunglasses, putting them beside your cup. “Maybe if you drank the rest of it in one gulp.” With a slam, he puts a stack of credits on the table. “Go on, do it and I’ll give you enough credits to leave Penacony forever. I promise.”

Who are you to decline such an enticing proposition, despite your distaste for the man's company? This employment, with all its hardships, can vanish if you are simply granted the funds. Thus, you hastily consume the remainder of your beverage without deliberation.

You’re too focused on the bet at hand to notice the unusual saltiness.

With a wide grin, he applauds enthusiastically, his cheers echoing through the stillness. However, his clapping abruptly ceases, leaving behind an unexpected emptiness. In its place, a throbbing headache emerges, surpassing the intensity of any typical morning-after discomfort.

The fall into a state of unconsciousness is far from effortless; it feels more like a sudden, jarring blow to the face, sharp and agonizing.

“I’ll keep my word, that is a gambler's responsibility after all."

#author aya #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #yandere hsr #yandere aventurine #yandere aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader

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just-some-trans-nobody · 8 months

Text

Naga boyfriend head cannons

Gender neutral reader

Warnings:light NSFW, brief mention of kink choking, biting, mentions of eating rodents, snakes

Minors Don't Interact!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

You are his personal heater I'm sorry I don't make the rules. Your body is warm and he wants that warm. It's a bonus that it comes from you, he loves you.

Ha you have cold hands? So does he don't worry about it.

Oh you have warm hands? Let him hold them. Hold his face in your hands he will melt into them this poor touch starved man.

At the start of the relationship he couldn't stand you touching him. It wasn't that he hated when you touched him oh no no no he absolutely loves when you touch him. He's just scared he's not used to being touched so gently before and he's terrified that he'll hurt you with his large size and not realize it. It doesn't help that once he started to get sexual feelings for you everytime you touched hin turned him on. Your pinkie could have lightly grazed his shoulder and he would hve grown aroused.

Further into the relationship he knows how much you can handle you and will absolutely man handle you. You'll be walking past him and he'll use his tail to swoop you in so he can cuddle you. He still gets turned on real easy but it's more tame now. Doesn't mean he won't be tame when having sex though.

Home boy is kinky will choke you if your also into and biting is a must. If it's agreed too and he's not venomous he'd love to bite you, really sink his fangs in. There will be times you'll be completely wrapped up in his tail will he fucks you.

If you manage to top him he'll be leaning on his own tail draped out on it begging and panting. He didn't know he could be so sensitive before.

Times he's being a grumpy pants he'll snap right out of it if told you'd top him. Instant good mood.

Whenever it gets even slightly cold he's super clingy. Will do grabby hands at you until you set down whatever your working on and come cuddle him.

Owns 700 heating blanket, hope one or both of you have a good paying job cause the electric bill is oit if this world.

Don't insult him by offering to feed him mice or rats thats gross. Guinea pigs have more meat on them any way. Just give him a BLT you weirdo he eats normal foods.

Hates broccoli though. Introduce him to cheesy broccoli and it's a whole new ball park for him.

Will be so confused on why you have a pet reptile, doesn't see the appeal.

Pet snake you say? Your mistake that's your guys child. Will refer to as himself as dad when talking to the snake.

"Now Junior be a good boy for dad and let me change out your water. Junior? Junior please get out of your water... Yes I see you blowing bubbles it's very cute."

The snakes name isn't junior he just keeps calling him junior.

Will get himself a shirt saying number one dad and wear it any time he picks the snake up.

Loves soaking in the tub, join him he'll love it.

He'll wash your hair and die from bliss if you wash his it feels so good.

Shedding is a cranky embarrassing time for him please be patient he's feeling very uncomfortable. If it's early in the relationship he won't want you near him, it's not you it's him he's not comfortable enough to have anyone bear him during this vulnerable time. If it is further into the relationship he'll be more comfortable with you being around him but just don't get to close to him, just be there for emotional support. Now if the relationship is a good amount of years in he'll act all spoiled asking you to peal his shed off for him after he soaked for a few hours at the least. He'll get all whinny and clingy demanding cuddles and snacks.

Bundling in a ball with way to many heated blankets on, this man is a fire hazard. Fire men hate him.

Can't cook for shit. Will order every meal out if you let him. Hates doing the dishes but he's good at vacuuming and dusting. Likes tidying up, not a fan of messes. He'll make sure he does his fair share of the chores and if he sees your having a bad day he'll take on more chores. Will buy your your favorite foods and snacks in hopes of making you feel better.

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ode2rin · 5 months

Text

Was it because he sometimes fail to call you due to opposite time zones? Or was it the frequent periods when he wasn't at home? Had the distance finally played its game in your relationship?

Out of all people, you were the last person Sae would have expected to betray him like this.

Yet, it happened. You blindsided him.

“I’m just three episodes ahead! Stop being so dramatic!” you protested from the other end of the couch.

Yes, that's the grave betrayal you've committed. Was it worth fighting over? Maybe. Was he being petty? Of course not. The act itself could be the equivalent of your partner lying to you. A literal crime, if he can say so himself.

“We were supposed to watch it together,” he frowned, his eyes fixed on the Netflix series playing on the TV with its soft glow highlighting the contours of Sae's face as he continued to express his mock indignation. “Together.” He stressed every syllable, dragging out the pettiness, much to your annoyance.

And there you both were, caught in the crossfire of a relationship dispute sparked by the unspoken rules of synchronized streaming.

Were there any rules in the first place? Well, according to Sae's book, there certainly were. Because, much to his denial, Sae loves your relationship’s traditions. One of them being this – the two of you wrapped in thick blankets with you curling up to his side and his hands fiddling with yours while you both spend the night away watching a show you mentioned in your call with him when he was away.

Now, however, the two of you (mainly him) are faced with the big question of how to enjoy said tradition when you're already three episodes ahead.

“I apologized already,” you point out.

“You said sorry after saying oh yeah, I kind of watched it and shrugged. Talk about sincerity.”

You bite back your laughter at his words. You knew your boyfriend had a great tendency to be dramatic, but he surprises you every time he pulls out a fit like this one.

“And look, you’re even laughing.” he glares at you. “You find it so funny that you broke your promise to watch it with me, is that it?”

“Oh, come on! How did you even know that I already watched it?! I was acting pretty well!” you exclaimed at him while inching closer, trying to get close to where he’s seated.

Five minutes before this whole theatrics, Sae was sitting close to you. However, after realizing your betrayal, the sheer spite in him compelled him to retreat to the opposite end of the couch, far from your lying ass.

“Your acting skills are shit,” he tells you before rolling his eyes again.

It was a lie. He almost couldn’t tell except after one passing comical scene of the show.

Sae has developed a habit of looking at you whenever there’s a scene he thinks you would find remotely funny, no matter how ridiculous the said scene might be for him. At every joke and witty banter, he would turn to you for your own laugh.

You never caught on to this habit, and Sae would rather feed on those horrendous french fries than tell you how he seeks the way you throw your head back, and how your eyes momentarily shut from laughing because the sight spreads an indefinable warmth in his chest and how the sound fills every quiet corner of his once empty space.

So imagine his surprise when you weren’t laughing. You were smiling – yes, but it wasn’t a laugh he seeks.

Sae was on the verge of turning his head again after hearing a sigh escape your lips. You’re sighing? And it was deep too, like it was telling him you’re getting sick of it. The absolute nerve.

“Did you just sigh–”

But before Sae could finish his sentence, your arms gracefully snaked around his torso, enveloping him in that comforting back hug you always bestowed upon him.

“I said I’m sorry,” you whispered against his shoulder blades, your right cheek caressing his back as you planted a feather-light kiss in that spot. You saw him momentarily close his eyes at your touch, making you smile secretly in triumph.

You’ve loved this man long enough to memorize how to soften his rough edges.

“I was bored to my wits’ end last week, I couldn’t help it but check it out,” you added, your voice carrying a persuasive tone.

Last week. He was supposed to be home by that time. If he was, the two of you would be comfortably cuddling on this very same couch. But some lukewarm fool managing the team decided to extend his misery in Spain for another week.

“I don’t like that look.”

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of your stern voice. Unbeknownst to Sae’s preoccupied self, you’ve been staring at his face far longer than a minute to notice his miniscule change of expression when you mentioned last week. Turning to his right shoulder where you were, he raised an eyebrow in question.

“I know you. Spit it out,” you demanded, a knowing glint in your eyes.

And truth be told, you do know him. You were right. For a moment, his thoughts lingered on how much easier it would be to have more nights of just you and him if he wasn't away all the time.

But he couldn’t tell you that, not just yet. Maybe when the timing finally called for his proposition. “I’m sorry my stay got extended,” is what he said instead, hoping to convey what he couldn’t put into words.

“You know I don’t mind, besides, I understand.”

“I know.”

Sensing an unspoken ‘but...’ in his words, you looked up to him, meeting his perceptive teal eyes. He didn’t need to say anything more. You knew him, after all.

To lighten the mood, you decided to test your luck by teasing him. “Oh, my big dramatic baby,” you cooed.

“I’m not a damn baby,” he snorted, beginning to squirm out of your embrace as if to prove a point without letting his ears betray him by turning red.

“Shh, you are. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone else. I wouldn’t dare sabotage the Japan prodigy’s aloof badass rep to shit.”

You saw his mouth twitched, holding back his own amusement. God, even after all of those tender affections from you, this guy is still trying to be petty as hell.

“I don’t have an aloof badass reputation.”

“Yeah, because what you are is a dramatic spiteful boyfriend who thrives on being petty.”

“You’re really making it hard to forgive you, y/n.”

“Forgive me already!” You gaped at him, “And you say I’m the dramatic one in this relationship!”

Sae, like the rude person he is, ignored your whines, reaching for the remote to turn the show to the fourth episode. He then carefully placed you in his lap, turning you to face the TV, your back now pressing against his chest. As you watched everything he did in bewilderment, you turned to him, “but you won’t enjoy the story if we start on the fourth episode.”

True, but he preferred it when you were the one enjoying. “I’ll ask you questions along the way, and you can tell me about it,” he reassured you before pressing a kiss to your hair.

Exactly as he anticipated, your excitement to catch him up on the last three episodes was palpable.

The living room transformed into a sanctuary of your laughter as you animatedly narrated each event that happened. He could barely understand the fourth one with all of your extra comments and snarky remarks on the characters that he doubts is even a part of the actual plot. The night danced away in the soothing rhythm of your voice and the murmur of a TV show, until your breaths finally eased into the cadence of sleep.

Silently, Sae turned off the TV, reveling in the tranquility of the room as he gathered you in his arms to head into your shared bedroom. Gently placing your slumbering form on your side of the bed, he settled beside you and draped the blanket over the two of you. Pulling you close, he nestled your head against his chest, one arm securing you at the waist.

But before sleep could fully claim his senses, he heard you mumbling.

“Sae?”

Responding with a gentle hum, he felt your movements, your hands exploring the contours of his back as if tracing invisible lines and circles.

“About earlier,” you start, your voice barely above a whisper, “I’m not going anywhere. I'll be here, waiting for you to get home.”

His eyes opened, the drowsiness dissipating in the wake of your words, replaced by your warmth all over his body next to yours.

“So, it’s okay,” you continued, your words a tender caress against his collarbones, “We have plenty of time for movie nights and catching up on shows.”

Silence embraced you both, the room a canvas painted in the soft strokes of your steady breaths and the gentle thud of his heartbeat. Sae didn’t verbally respond to your assurance. Instead, you felt him pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head and his arm around your waist tightening its hold.

He didn’t say anything, but his silence and his embrace was loud enough for you to know everything he wanted to say.

Of course, you both had time— a wealth of moments to spend more nights like this. He’ll make sure of it. After all, he looks forward to spending his days off in the tranquility of your presence. No matter how mundane it could get — as long as it’s with you.

note. it's been a while since i wrote this man.. i still cannot stand him and his petty ass by the way.

#☁️ my ode to you #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae #itoshi sae fluff #itoshi sae x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi

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yutaleks · 2 months

Text

cw: noncon, reader is restrained, oviposition, monsterfucking, belly bulge, blood, breeding, size kink, two (large) dicks, yuuta bites reader with his fangs. Mentions of a past experience on Yuuta’s part. reader is mentioned to be ovulating. Naga!Yuuta x fem!reader. Shoutout to Sage anon for starting the naga!yuuta agenda… sorry. it's the voices. you know how it goes. Length: 2.1k Banner by @/cafekitsune

For a creature that's holding you against your will, Yuuta is surprisingly considerate.

Despite telling you that the only reason he hasn't eaten you yet is because he can smell how fertile you are, he hasn't touched you in the week since he's kept you in his cave. Earlier, you told yourself it was perhaps because he's changed his mind. Or maybe he had realized, over the last week, that he did not actually want you to "carry his brood" as he so crudely put it himself within minutes of meeting you. Maybe he changed his mind, and was simply using you as a heater at night (which wasn't so bad, admittedly. Being surrounded by his thick tail was definitely better than cold, hard cave floor).

You had high hopes of being freed gently, after a week of him feeding you and attempting to charm you with the bloodied belongings of deceased spelunkers who were not as lucky as you were. You had told yourself that this half snake-half man creature that you could only dream up in nightmares was actually just being kind to you and would release you once your body was healed up enough to move. It was a nice thing to tell yourself each time you were faced with him reappearing from the dark, covered in blood, actively choosing not to feast on your flesh. It had to be for a reason, right?

After you'd eaten a meal of questionable origin (as all meals given to you by him were) he'd taken to his daily habit of 'smelling' you with his tongue. It is a strange thing, indeed, to watch his human lips part and produce a thin, forked tongue. It was nothing short of invasive, having him taste the air surrounding your body. And each day he'd mumble something along the lines of 'not yet'; you didn't understand what he meant by such a thing, and he did not offer to elaborate.

But today the smelling/tasting/whatever he was doing with his tongue produced a different result. Today, with a satisfied hum, he smiled at you with fangs protruding, the dark slits in his eyes looking especially fiendish.

"You're ready."

"Ready for what?" you asked, innocently, as his thick mass of tail had coiled itself around you. It was just on the edge of constricting, as its weight settled on your limbs.

What a naive girl you were.

His answer came to you in the form of him holding you down in his nest, scaled tail too weighty for your limbs to even dream of pushing back. And even with your incessant wriggling, he manages to peel away the layers of your clothing. It leaves your pretty, small human body delightfully open for him. He can’t peel his eyes off of your glistening cunt if he tried.

And despite the week spent in his captivity it is at that moment that you see him for the first time—two large, phallic appendages emerging from a slit where a human man's reproductive organs would be.

Does he really intend to put both of those inside of you?

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt,” he says, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as the rest of your body is immobilized. You want to say something, anything, but honestly you’re still so stuck on the sight of his two penises. They are way too big for your body, that much you know for a fact.

“It’s—they—they’re too…” your body attempts to move away from his approaching tongue, shoulders pressing back against the flooring. Your body moves not even an inch, held so firmly in place.

“I’ve heard that our saliva assists in easing the pain,” he tells you, syllables just slightly slurred by the weight of his tongue. “I will do my best.”

“H-have you,” you swallow, as his tongue flicks across the small space between his (admittedly) handsome face and your pussy. “Have you done this before?”

His dark eyes widen a little as he says, “Once. Another human.”

You don’t have time to question it any further—when he finishes speaking he unhinges his sharp jaw, further than a human should be able to, and quickly pierces your vulva with four fangs. The piercing scream that leaves your lips echos off the cave walls, pain stinging where he bites. Tears well at the corners of your eyes but the pain doesn’t last very long; just as soon as you begin to feel his teeth pull away, blood bubbling up from the wounds, so does a feeling of numbness begin to seep through the source of your pain. It is as he said—the saliva he leaves in your open wounds fizzles out the pain into nothingness. In mere moments, if it weren’t for the blood in the crack between your thigh and your pussy, you’d forget about the bites entirely.

He flicks his tongue over each bite-wound, and surely the area between your legs starts to feel—well, you can’t feel, actually. At least you’ve stopped thrashing about, to Yuuta’s relief.

It is behind the cages of dark lashes that he looks up at you when he’s done licking the blood away. Though your senses are dulled, you can vaguely feel his forked tongue swipe over your hole. Despite how much you don’t want this, your body responds to the stimulus of his tongue with dripping arousal—he can taste it, the tangy nectar that you drip for him. And to think you had resisted so intensely.

“So warm,” he notes, cool breath passing over your pussy. “You’re perfect.”

You do the math in your head, thinking to yourself that between your last period and the time you’ve been in this cave, it has to have been about two weeks…

Is what he is sensing… ovulation?

Your thighs shake against his palms, struggling as you watch his tongue begin to push itself inside of you. It’s the strangest sensation, that despite the numbness, you can feel his thin, forked tongue move around inside of you, coating your walls in that thin, sticky substance that is his saliva. Just as he had numbed the space between your legs, this too he covers in venom. It reaches a point where you can no longer feel the movements of his tongue, and your body turns boneless against his tail, tired from resisting.

When he pulls away, long tongue no longer numbing your insides, you look down upon his body once again. You more closely inspect his two cocks, noticing quite a difference between the two. The second, lower one is quite thicker, its girth intimidating, maybe even downright frightening. The upper one is thinner, more human-like in size and shape. Though it is large by human standards, it is not as scary as the first one. But the thought of him using both on you, perhaps even at the same time, has your heart pumping out of your stomach. Numbness be damned.

“B-both of those?” You blurt out, eyes wide in fear as his body draws nearer to yours.

“Ah, no,” he tells you, to your relief. “First, eggs. Then, mating.”

Again, you struggle against the weight of his body. Words like “please” and “don’t” leave your lips but he has kept you here for this purpose alone—surely, he’s told you this before, hasn’t he? You’ve accepted his gifts, his foods, his care. He has done it all for you, the one who will help him sire his brood.

He uses the lower cock first, its girth stretching you impossibly wide. He is as gentle as he can be, pushing in slowly and watching for any signs of pain. He had taken his time numbing you, and it seems to have paid off—besides general discomfort, the anguishing stretch that he had expected (judging from his last experience, anyway) did not seem to bother you as much as he thought it would. Your eyes screw shut as he stuff you full with his cock, and as he waits for you to adjust to his full size, he feels the muscles in your thighs relax. The resistance of your upper body against his tail wanes.

“Good girl.”

The sweet tone of his voice makes you shudder. It’s almost unfair that a monster using you like this can be so handsome, can sound so reassuring. You feel him pull out halfway, just to push back in. His upper cock, the one not inside you, rubs against your clit, creating a devastatingly delicious friction. And you watch your belly as he thrusts again, a bump moving along in time with his thrusts.

Is that bump his cock?!

It is unbelievable that your body can even stretch that much to accommodate him. Your eyes follow in time with his thrusts, and though he starts slowly he builds up momentum steadily. When he glances down at where your union begins, he’s satisfied to see a sheen that can only be your wetness. He’s convinced your body wants his as desperately as he wants yours.

“Is this enjoyable?” He asks you, sweat forming at his temples.

You gasp when the head of his cock glides against your engorged clit once again. With the numbness, you cannot feel it, but he certainly can feel how you tighten around his cock in response. He groans.

“Yuutaaa,” you whine, the first time you’ve ever called him by name. He’s elated.

The base of his cock begins to swell.

You screw your eyes shut as he picks up speed, deep breaths and thick, pained grunts erupt from his throat. He sounds different, suddenly, and when you look down you realize why—his cock grows thicker, bumps that you presume are eggs pushing past your entrance.

“Wait—wait—” you beg, arms pushing desperately at the tail that weighs them down.

“I will give my eggs to you,” he tells you between ragged breaths. “This may hurt…”

The word hurt is a blatant misrepresentation of what happens next. His tongue had done a fantastic job of numbing your pussy for him, but it does nothing for your cervix. Yuuta grabs at your hips roughly, and pushes himself into you as deep as he will go. The base of his upper cock pressed hard against your clit, and you quite quickly orgasm all over his cock, squeezing quite tightly. And though you feel nothing but fullness around his cock inside you, your orgasm spurs on his own, his upper cock leaking onto your navel. His lower cock pushes against your cervix, and with pain so sharp it makes you cry out, multiple eggs push through into your womb. You lose count of how many, Yuuta biting at your shoulder, your neck, your jaw—anywhere and everywhere to distract you as he deposits into your womb. You’re not sure how long it goes on for, but when he pulls out, your body feels both full and weak, reeling from waves of pain both in your cervix and everywhere he’s bitten;

Yet, he is not finished.

He removes the lower cock and replaces it with the thinner upper one. You make no protest this time, letting him rut into your used cunt. He’s mumbling something against your throat, but with your body numbed and tired, you pay little attention to it.

Overstimulation takes hold as he continues to fuck you long after you’ve already come all over his cock. He bites onto your breast, fangs and all, leaving puncture wounds with every bite from your shoulder to your nipple.

How pretty you look under him, he thinks. He even hopes he’ll get another chance to do this with you, hopelessly infatuated with this little human he’d met only a week ago.

You helplessly spread your legs as wide as you can when he finishes inside you, coating your insides in his spend and inevitably fertilizing the eggs he’d placed inside you. And just like a snake would in the wild, his cock anchors itself inside you, twitching with the last bits of spend and keeping you locked onto his cock, not wasting even a drop. A weak, defeated moan leaves your lips as his cock stretches inside you once again, plugging you full.

“Yuuta…” you call for him weakly. His tail coils around you affectionately, his arms pulling your chest closer to his.

“You did so well… thank you,” he coos to your weary, sweaty body. “I’m glad I saved you.”

You vaguely wonder: if this is what being “saved” is, would being forsaken have been the better option?

So tired from the ordeal, you quickly succumb to sleep, not knowing the answer.

#SORRY IDK WHERE THIS CAME FROM SORRY !!#naga!yuuta #yuuta x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #jjk x reader #cw.monsterfucking #cw.noncon #cw.oviposition #writing tag

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