Your heart pounds in your chest as you run as fast as you possibly can. Your chest tightens as your lungs burn, pushing back all pain to the back of your mind as you try to escape the monster that wants you dead.
A man with a pyramid for a head.
A low growl rumbles in the creature's chest as it closes in on you. Its massive strides closing the distance between you two. Each step it takes shakes the ground beneath you.
You should've gone with James. You should've stayed where you were. You should've...
A gasp leaves your mouth as you stumble on a crack in the ground, and despite regaining your balance quickly, you glance behind you to see that the beast is right behind you
It raises its great knife, preparing to strike you down like the countless souls before you. It swings its arm back, ready to slice your body into two pieces.
Screaming, you duck down and hear a loud whoosh as the blade cuts through the air above your head. Your ears ring from the force of the blade slamming against the lamppost beside you. The post creaks under the pressure before breaking apart.
You take the moment to make some distance, your heart skipping a beat as you realize how close death was to claiming you.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Your voice cracks as you shout at the top of your lungs. Fear courses through your veins like electricity, making each breath feel like daggers slicing through your throat. Your heart races faster than it ever did before. Every beat feels like a explosion in your eardrums. Sweat drips down your forehead and pools in your neck, staining your shirt.
You take a sharp turn into an alleyway, sprinting towards the end of it, but as you reach the end, you find yourself staring at a dead end. Panic sets in as you realize that there's nowhere else to run. Your pulse quickens even more as adrenaline surges through your veins.
You're trapped like a rat.
You hear its stomping as the monster catches up to you, trapping your only way out. It looms over you with its massive frame, casting a shadow over your small form.
You take one step back, then another, and then a few more until your back hits the wall.
Its 'head' tilts slightly as it studies you, as if expecting something from you.
Then again, maybe it is simply waiting for you to break down. To beg for mercy.
James.... I'm sorry. I hope you find your wife.
And with that final thought, it closes the gap swiftly, moving far quicker than you imagined a beast that size could move.
Before you can react, a large hand wraps around your throat, squeezing tightly against your windpipe. Your nails dig into its forearm as you attempt to pry it away from you. But it's like trying to move a mountain.
You immediately stop struggling as it presses the end of the blade's handle against your stomach, almost as if warning you. Struggling to draw in air, you and the monster stare at each other.
Minutes pass, and even though it hasn't moved or loosened its grip around your throat, it remains completely still.
Then suddenly, it pulls away slightly, raising its massive blade.
With dread settling in your stomach like lead, you squeeze your eyes shut.
...but nothing happens. No pain. No death.
Instead of feeling the searing agony of steel cutting through flesh, you hear a metallic thud followed by a low rumble. Cracking open your eyelids slightly, you notice that it had thrust its blade into the ground beside it.
It watches you closely for several tense seconds before slowly reaching out to touch you with its hand.
You instinctively try to pull away from its touch, but its grip on your throat tightens slightly, holding you in place as its fingers trace lightly across your chest.
As its hand continues to travel further down your body, you again try to struggle against his grip. It doesn't try to correct your behavior. Not that it needed to.
Your breath hitches in your throat as its hand slides under your shirt. Its burning touch sends a wave of unease through your body, threatening to engulf you fully like fire.
Maybe you'll spontaneously combust and be free from this.
Whatever it was searching for, it seemed to have found it as its hand begins tracing over the jagged scar that runs under your left breast as if trying to reopen it. You wince in pain as its rough touch irritates the sensitive tissue surrounding the old wound.
After a few moments, its hand shifts over to the matching scar under your right breast. Its touch lingers longer here compared to the last one, almost tenderly caressing the marred flesh before pulling away suddenly.
Withdrawing its blade from the ground, it turns away and starts to walk out of the alleyway. Yet instead of releasing you, it drags you along by the neck. Its coarse hands digging into your skin uncomfortably.
"Let go of me," you choke out between coughs, attempting to pry its hand loose from around your throat. Although it doesn't seem interested in releasing you anytime soon.
You frantically try to dig your heels into the ground in an attempt to slow it down, but the behemoth seemed unfazed. As you finally stop resisting, one thought throbs through your head...
scum/kinktober is about to start and I just feel like I NEED to write for Micah. Who else will??? That being said drop some kinks/scenarios in my inbox hehe
I‘m gonna try to write seven prompts, so a week worth of content. We‘ll see how we‘ll it‘ll go…😭
(no limits lol we go all out this time)
edit: YOU GUYS ARE SO CREATIVE I LOVE IT keep em coming!!! i might write more than 7 if i find time
Monty's massive head rested heavily on your lap, his body rigid and tense as you gently stroked his snout. Your touch seemed to be helping him relax, just a little, but there was still a visible tremble in him. His hands clenched and unclenched, as though struggling not to lash out. Those piercing red eyes stared blankly ahead, unseeing, unfocused, into the wall.
"I didn't mean to scare her…" He muttered, almost too quietly for you to hear.
"Oh Monty" you murmured softly, your voice low and gentle as you tried to help him relax. "She's a little girl. Lots of things spook them," you offer, trying to make him feel better. "You were just-"
"She looked at me the same way you did." His deep voice rumbled through his chest, sending vibrations to your legs.
You paused mid-stroke, looking at him. "When did I look at you like that?" You asked curiously.
"Your first day here," he answered, his tone dismissive, as if it should have been obvious.
Monty remembers how you flinched when he got really angry during a heated argument. What it was about, he doesn't remember. Knowing himself it was probably something stupid. But what he won't forget is the way you shook with tears in your eyes.
You fell silent for a moment before starting to slowly stroke his snout again. It took you a minute or two to gather your thoughts before speaking again.
"I didn't know you." You admitted, keeping your gaze fixed on the floor. "I only judged you by your appearance."
There was a heavy pause as you thought back over the past few months since meeting Monty. You had definitely judged him harshly at first, mostly because of how he looked, but also because of your coworkers warning you about his "temper". But now, after getting to know him? Well, he wasn't exactly Mr. Friendly, but he certainly wasn't the monster everyone made him out to be.
"But then…" you started again, hesitating slightly before continuing. "I got to know you."
At your words, Monty's head shifted in your lap as he turned his attention up towards you. He took a moment to move his arm, wrapping loosely around your waist as he listened to you.
"And then...I grew to love you," you finished, your voice soft as you leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the tip of his snout.
A soft bellowing sound emanated from his chest, shaking the whole couch slightly. Both eyes shut as he soaks up the attention.
"I love you," you say, running your fingers through his hair lovingly.
A soft growl left his throat as he let out another one of those breathy, low moans. The vibration of it sent shivers down your spine as you heard him whisper once more.
"Again."
"I love you," you whispered again, pressing another sweet kiss to the end of his snout before pulling back to stare into his eyes.
"I think when people show you who they are through actions, you have to believe em."
Jimmy refuses to look at you while you speak, opting instead to look forwards at the wall. His back leaned against the cold wall of the corridor, sitting as his legs splayed out. You doubt he had anything to say.
"The problem was...I was too busy listening to you," you sighed. Your hand finally relaxes, and a loud clang echoes through the hallways. Walking over, you turn and slump against the wall, sliding down to sit besides Jimmy. "So I wasn't seeing clearly."
Your hand trembles as you bring it to your face, nails digging into your skin.
"She has no reason to lie," you whispered shakily.
You lurch forwards, feeling burning in your chest as nausea hits you like an asteroid. "Anya..." you groan, your free hand gripping your shirt to pull it away from your chest as you feel it tightening. "I'm so fucking sorry... I should've protected you."
Raking your hand across your face, you focus on the pain as apologies continue to spill from your lips. It's what's stopping you from tearing apart at the seams. You want to make him hurt, to make him feel what you feel right now.
But it didn't matter.
Not anymore.
Your mouth waters as you try to calm your breathing and stop yourself from puking, but it barely helps. Your steady breathing quickly deteriorates to quick and shallow ones as every place he's touched you begins to burn.
Those kisses you remembered so fondly open up like wounds, festering with an itch that makes you wanna scratch your skin bloody. A sob tears through your throat before you compose yourself. You wipe at your face as you turn to Jimmy, expecting him to finally speak.
But he doesn't.
He couldn't.
Not with that hole in his forehead.
You lean your head against his shoulder, staring at the handgun you dropped earlier. Even if you wanted to, you only had the one bullet.
It wouldn't be long before the others come to investigate the gunshot. You didn't really know how they'd react, but you're certain Curly would forgive you...eventually. He was just like you, a big fucking pushover. At least with Jimmy gone he'd listen to you.
You feel as Jimmy finally falls over, his cold body lying limply on the colder floor. You reach out to touch him only to stop a few inches away. Retracting your hand, you let your head fall back against the wall. As you stare at the ceiling, numb to the sound of footsteps, you let out a long sigh.
Gabriel's body was rejecting the very act of living. The pain came and went as time went on, but recently its been getting worse. More frequent, and more excruciating. Before, he could suck it up and lock himself in his room, but now, he's been going to Moira for painkillers.
But she's not on base right now.
Sent to do some "fieldwork" as Akande put it. So, without her help, Gabriel's only real option...would be going to you.
Gabriel did not like you.
Granted, he didn't like Moira either, but something about you really irked him to no end. Your constant flirting, teasing, and downright sadistic tendencies made you insufferable to be around. But there was one single thing that truly made you unbearable, maybe even more than the pain he felt now.
You couldn't be intimidated.
Any attempts to threaten you would be met with a blank look, a curled smile, or downright laughter, and Gabriel could attest to that himself. Not even Akande could get you to sweat. So getting any help from you would be a hassle. But as Gabriel felt wave after wave of flesh-rending pain course through his body, he decided that dealing with you was better than spending the night like this.
Hobbling through the halls, Gabriel made his way to the infirmary wing, clinging to the walls for support as his body threatened to fall over. It was late so there wasn't many agents roaming the corridors, and if any were around, Gabriel stopped to hide, unwilling to let anyone see him in this state. He knew that any perceived weakness would make him look pathetic, and he couldn't allow that to happen.
As two Talon grunts walked past, Gabriel pushed himself off the wall with a grunt as he made a dash for the infirmary doors. He pressed entry codes into the interface roughly and nearly tripped on himself as he pushed in immediately once the door opened. His relief was short-lived as he saw a Talon grunt sitting on the exam table with you beside him, stitching some wound shut.
The growl that left his throat was very loud, probably louder than he intended. Storming forwards, he slams his clenched fist onto the table, shaking it violently.
"Get out. Now."
To their credit, the grunt immediately stood up, not wanting an early death at the hands of Talon's scariest agent. But before they could take a single step, a hand gripped their shoulder and yanked them back onto the table. Their head instantly snapped to look at you, and despite wearing a helmet, you can tell what they were saying;
Are you trying to get me killed?
"Even he...must wait his turn," was all that left your mouth, calm and stern.
And with that, you grabbed the needle that hung from his injury and continued to suture it shut, your eyes never leaving theirs. But the grunt felt another pair of eyes on him.
Reaper's.
They burned into their skull, melting their brains as you pulled the thread taut. They didn't dare look back, choosing to look at their injury, mentally counting the seconds before they could get the hell out.
With the final stitch, tie, and cut, the poor thing jumped to their feet and ran out the door as quick as an assassin unit.
Gabriel then turned his burning gaze to you, watching as you put the suture kit away...slowly.
Reaching out, he slaps the kit out of your hands the clattering echoing through the room as he then gripped your wrist.
"Give me the fucking pain meds."
You didn't even flinch.
Snatching your hand away from him, you gesture to the exam table. You turn to walk over to one of the cabinets and open it as he takes a seat. Your eyes scan the labels as you go through bottles and vials, trying to remember what your fellow coworker uses to deal with Reaper's situation.
"Morphine....codeine...prozac," you mutter to yourself, taking note of that last one for later use. A creaking groan broke the silence, making you glance over to your patient. Gabriel had bent the metal of the table beneath his hand, no doubt from the pain. You hum, turning to open another cabinet, certain that you've seen the medication before.
The sound of clinking bottles are accompanied by Gabriel's heavy and strained breathing, but it does little to hurry your hand. After a few more seconds of looking, you find it.
"Adenosine," you read out, grabbing a clean syringe on your way back to the writhing man
Gabriel watches as you plunge the needle into the vial, drawing up some liquid before flicking the syringe. His hand grips the table again as a wave of burning hot pain rolls through his head.
Barely registering your footsteps, Gabriel tenses as he feels your hands on him.
"Lie back for me, darling."
You push him onto the table, hand burning into his chest as he resists the urge to smack it away. Leaning closer, you hold the syringe over his jugular for a few seconds before jabbing it in. And before he could stop it, a whimper leaves his mouth. Whether or not you heard he isn't sure.
For a few seconds, nothing happens.
And then it hits.
Gabriel feels as if a giant stone is rolled over his body, starting at his chest. It crushes his lungs as his body runs colder than before. The pain starts to become heightened, nearly mind-breaking. The only thing he can manage to do is let out a couple of choked gasps. The pain reaches a peak, and for a second, Gabriel truly believes he's going to die.
And then it's over.
It takes a moment for his body to regain its senses, and the first one that comes back is the feeling of being touched. Your hand rubs his forehead as you look down at him, your face an expression he doesn't care to read. As he settles, he notices the lack of pain anywhere. Letting out a deep exhale, he tries to sit up, only to be pushed down by your palm.
"I can see why Moira likes sticking things in you," you coo, your hand wandering lower. "You make such funny faces."
Before your hand could go lower than his stomach, he finally regains the strength needed to smack it away.
"Don't fucking touch me."
Your lips curl into a smile as you lean closer, your mouth hovering over his ear. "You should come to me more often."
He quickly rises up from the table, pushing you away as he stomps out of the infirmary. You scoff, shifting your attention to the mess he left before grabbing a nearby broom.
"Prude."
Despite the pain being gone, unease lingered in his bones. And as Gabriel made his way to his living quarters, he couldn't help but think about you.
The scent of burnt candle mixed with the smell of alcohol filled the air; it was clear that Hana had gone all out for her birthday celebration. You're sure the others are enjoying themselves, but you've never been the party type.
Your scene is way more calm and quiet, so staying near the back and watching the others socialize from there seemed like the best play for tonight.
But it seems like loud has a way of following.
Walking up beside you, Reinhardt hands one of the cups in his hands to you with a warm smile, "Guten Tag mein Freund! I thought you might need something to drink."
The cup seemed to disappear in his big hand, his giant form dwarfing even yours as he stood next to you. Reinhardt watches as you take the cup, your hands making brief contact. At that moment you realized that these cups were rather large, barely being able to hold the whole thing in a single hand.
The old crusader leaned in closer to you, his arm brushing yours lightly. "I am glad you could make it tonight," he says, raising his voice over the loud music and taking a sip from his own cup.
"At least one of us is," you mutter, taking a sip of your own. Despite not putting any effort into projecting your voice, he seemed to have caught it.
You see a slight furrow in his brow at your words, "Ah, well…", he starts to speak, hesitating slightly, "if you do not wish to be here…"
He takes a big gulp from his cup, letting his gaze drift towards the other guests before focusing back onto you.
His expression turned serious now, "If it would make you feel better, we could leave early?"
Silence fell between you as you meet each other's gaze.
Feeling your fingers tracing along his stomach, Reinhardt couldn't help but let out a soft moan at the sensation, his muscles relaxing under your touch. His eyes were shut, head leaning back as he let you explore his body.
Soft whispers left his lips in German, too low for you to hear properly, though they sounded sweet.
As you grabbed his hand, pulling it up to hold your palm to his, Reinhardt opened his eyes lazily, watching as you examined both of your hands.
A small smile graced his lips as he spoke up, "Ja, mine is quite larger.", he says, sounding a bit prideful.
"Everything about you is larger," you huff, pushing him onto his back, eliciting a grunt from him as he lets you do so easily. "It's not fair."
He folded his arms behind his back, exposing his muscular torso to you fully. "Ah~ my apologies mein Liebling", he said in a playful tone. "I did not mean to be so imposing."
Chuckling, you climb onto him, straddling his chest.
Reinhardt groans, a light blush appearing on his cheeks, "And how does your Crusader look from there?" He asks, his voice lowering slightly.
"He looks...less intimidating," you mutter, feeling like those birds you see on rhinos.
Smiling softly, Reinhardt moved his hands from beneath his head to gently grip your thighs, squeezing them tenderly. He then moved one of his hands to your belt buckle, slowly undoing it while looking into your eyes.
A low hum escaped his throat as he worked on it, clearly enjoying every second of it.
As he finished undoing your belt buckle, he lifts your legs up with one hand, carefully sliding off your pants with the other, leaving you in just your boxers.
A soft sigh leaves your lips, a bit embarrassed he was manhandling you so easily. His eyes glance downwards briefly to admire your newly exposed legs before looking back up at you.
He hooks your waistband with his thumbs, motioning to pull them down. However, instead of doing it alone, your hands reached out to cover his, helping him remove your boxers with ease.
As they join your pants on the floor, he gives a small smile, grabbing at your hips and pulling you higher up on his chest.
Your face burned up as he did so, causing your cock to bounce slightly, dragging across his skin. Holding you firmly in place, he looks at your hard-on that was now a few inches away from his face.
Reinhardt leans forward slightly, his hot breath washing over your cock as he breathes deeply, taking in your scent. A shiver ran down your spine as he held you in place with strong hands, pausing for a moment before finally pressing his lips against your cock, placing a soft kiss on the throbbing shaft.
"Rein…"
Hearing you moan out his name and reach out to grab at his hair sent a jolt of heat throughout his entire body, causing him to shudder. He pulled back after placing a kiss on your cockhead, looking up at you.
"Sweet boy," he coos before planting another kiss onto your cock, followed by another, and another, peppering wet kisses across the length of your shaft. Each time he kissed it caused his already hard cock to twitch, precum beading at the tip.
He barely hears your little whines as he pressed his lips against your cockhead again, slowly parting them as he took you inside of him.
You gasp as you felt yourself slide into his mouth, your hands maintaining a strong grip on his head. A low moan escapes your lips as you struggle to stay upright.
Grunting at the sudden movement, he wrapped his arms around your hips, holding you close as he began bobbing his head back and forth, working your length in and out of his mouth.
Each thrust pushed your cock deeper into his mouth until you bottomed out, the tip of your cock hitting the back of his throat. He hummed softly in approval, the vibrations strumming through your dick as he held you there.
"F-Fuck," you whine, tugging on his hair a bit harder than intended.
His hands gripped your hips tightly as he controlled the pace at which you fucked his mouth, changing between slow sensual thrusts and slamming your hips into his face harshly. It wasn't long before his mouth became sore from all the movement, but he paid no mind.
"Rein, I'm gonna…" you moaned, tugging at his hair as you felt yourself getting close.
Reinhardt suddenly thrust your hips forward, forcing you all the way down his throat. He swallowed convulsively around your cock, triggering your orgasm immediately. With a loud moan, you cum down his throat, filling it with rope after rope of hot cum.
Once you were done cumming, he slowly pulled back, releasing your cock from his mouth with a pop. Cum dripped from the corners of his lips as he smiled up at you.
Pulling you down to meet him as he gets up from laying down, his large hand gripping the back of your head firmly as he crushes his lips against yours. You let out a muffled whine, your hands holding on to his chest as you open your mouth to let him in.
You could taste yourself on his tongue as it wrestled with yours.
Pulling away from the kiss, he kept his large hands on both sides of your face as he squished your cheeks playfully. "Mein Schatz," he chuckled softly. "You taste delicious."
Your fingers curl tightly around the shovel handle, knuckles turning white as you try to thrust it into the hard earth again and again. A few stray locks of hair fall onto your forehead as you lean forward, sweat trickling down your brow. You curse under your breath, "Stupid furry rat bastard… Useless little shit… Fuck…"
You liked babysitting for the Ulgan family. Despite how society views Orcs, they treat you well. The kids were mild-mannered, the neighborhood was safe, and the pay was great. So, you came into work today expecting a normal day while the mister and misses went out for a date.
But Dura's old ass hamster decided it was the perfect time to straight up die.
You sigh heavily, leaning on the shovel handle. As you stare down at the chopped dirt beneath you, you realize digging a grave here is nearly impossible right now. It was winter after all, the ground was frozen solid.
Your gaze shifts towards the window where you spot Dura happily chowing down on a bowl of ice cream. Not exactly a nutritious choice, but she did cry a lot after finding Hammy stiff in his cage earlier today… It wasn't until you promised her a whole gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream from the store that she finally stopped the water works.
You let out a deep growl of frustration and plunge the shovel blade directly into the frozen soil with all your might. Angrily, you rip it free and stab it back into the ground once more.
Frustration bubbles within you as you think about having to explain death to a ten-year-old orcling. Though, you shouldn't have been surprised, considering how fragile hamsters are. To be honest, you kinda expected her to squish the damn thing some day. But here you are now, dealing with this mess.
You grit your teeth, continuing to stab at the ground with the shovel.
A sudden, low laugh draws your attention upward to see a tall figure looming over the wooden fence that separates the Ulgans' yard from the next door neighbors'.
Donovan.
The minotaur leans casually on the top of the fence, watching you curiously with his arms crossed over his broad chest.
"Calm down killer," He says teasingly. "Does the backyard owe you money or something?" His deep laughter echoes through the otherwise silent street.
Wiping the sweat off your brow with your arm, you glare up at him. "Shove it asshole," you sneer.
Of course he would find this funny.
"Alright alright," Donovan replies with another chuckle. He watches you dig for a moment longer before starting to speak again.
"So uh… How's business treating ya? Still likin' your job?"
"Ehh," you say, letting out a loud exhale. "Been better. The little one's pet died."
"Shit," he mutters sympathetically as he watches you struggle to make any dent into the frozen soil.
With a roll of his eyes, he grips the top of the fence and in one swift motion, he vaults over it, landing with a thud onto the ground.
"Here, gimme that," he offers, reaching for the shovel. His hand wraps around its base and easily rips it from your grip.
"H-Hey, dickhead! I could've done it myself!" You snap at him, smacking his muscular back as he starts to dig up some dirt with ease.
"Hey!" he exclaims, spinning around to face you with a raised eyebrow. "What was that for?"
"For being made out of hamburger," you retort sarcastically as you stretch your arm toward the shovel in his hand.
"Made outta hamburger?" He repeats, raising an eyebrow at you as he hoists the shovel high above your head. "And just what kind of burger would that be, huh?" He asks teasingly, his snout curling into a shiteating grin.
"A big stupid one," you retort, jumping upwards slightly in an attempt to grab the damn thing from him.
He chuckles as he watches you jump like an angry honeybadger.
You give him a annoyed expression. "Dude, come on," you complain, gazing up at him as he holds the shovel out of your reach.
"Let me do this for you," he insists as he leans down towards you, all traces of humor gone from his voice.
He looks serious, like he truly wants to help you bury some orcling's dead hamster.
"Fine," you say with a heavy sigh, stepping back and gesturing towards the hole he started.
"Go ahead then."
He gives you a warm smile before getting to work. His strong arms swing the shovel effortlessly into the ground as his tail wags happily.
As he digs, you finally take note of his fit. White T-shirt and grey sweats. Classic lazy bum style.
It looks good though.
...
Very good.
...
You wouldn't mind taking a bite outta him.
Wait, how far is he digging?
You lean over to get a closer look at the hole.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, that's enough!" You call out, rushing forward to tap his strong shoulder. Your hand comes to rest gently on his firm muscles.
Looking down at you with wide eyes, he stops digging immediately before glancing at the hole.
It was at least ten feet deep.
After a brief pause, Donovan returns your gaze with a sheepish smile before shrugging.
With a huff, you glance over at the house again to check for any sign of Dura. She doesn't seem to be in the kitchen anymore. The small orcling probably left to watch TV in the living room.
With the coast clear, you nonchalantly nudge the small corpse into the gaping hole with your foot and watch as it tumbles down into darkness below.
"Alright," you say with a nod. "Fill it."
He flashes you a quick salute before refilling the freshly dug hole. In minutes, there's nothing left but a patch of disturbed dirt to show that anything ever happened here at all.
You clap your hands and close your eyes.
"Here lies Hammy, who lived a wonderful..."
You peek at your fingers to count.
"Two years."
After your mini eulogy, you open your eyes and peer over at Donovan.
"Okay, you can leave now," you command, jabbing a finger towards the fence line.
He claps his hands together and presses them under his maw, batting his eyelashes dramatically.
"Don't I get a reward for helping?" He asks coyly, giving you a smile that makes you wanna bite him.
You can't afford to argue with him when Mom and Pop can come back at any moment.
Rolling your eyes, you slowly walk over to him, stopping to stand on your tiptoes directly beside him. Leaning in close, you press your lips firmly against his furry cheek.
Donovan stands there dazed for a moment before scratching his chin
"I was actually thinking you could make me some mac and cheese or someth-"
Before he can finish his sentence, you get a tight hold of his horns before shaking his head back and forth.
Something something cannibalism as a metaphor for love.
Sure, on paper it sounds hardcore, but is there anyone out there can say they've experienced a lust so great that you wish to fill up someones stomach? To take the initiative and serve your flesh for eating?
No one can, not even you. That was until you met him.
A genuine man eater.
And ever since then, you've savored the marks and scars he's given you, cherished the burning of his bites, and cried out orgasmically when he tears into your body.
Because this wasn't a metaphor, this was reality.
"How do I Look?"
Jack tilts his head slightly, eyes focused on your naked form as you lay on the bed. A low chuckle rumbled through him as he reached up to adjust the mask over his nose and mouth. "Like a deer…" he murmured, leaning forward.
His fingers trailed along your collarbone, tracing a line to your chest and then dipping lower. It was an soft touch, loving even.
But there was nothing innocent about the hunger burning within those empty sockets. He could feel the heat radiating from your body, feel the rise and fall of your chest against his palm. "Do you have any idea…what I want to do to you?"
"What are you gonna do?" you ask, sighing softly as you run your hands along the sides of your stomach.
"Turn you into roadkill."
The tip of his index finger brushed against your cock and felt it twitch in response to his touch. It was already starting to harden, growing thicker and longer as he grasped it in his hand. He hummed, giving it another gentle squeeze before letting go entirely.
He leaned in closer to your stomach, nose pressing against your skin as he took a deep breath in. The scent of sweat and soap filled his nostrils, making his mouth water just slightly. His tongue flicked out to taste the saltiness coating your flesh like a marinade.
You could feel his hand slide into yours, freezing fingers intertwining with yours as they rested above your hip. Your free hand roamed further down, sliding across the soft pudge of your stomach before coming to rest just below your navel.
Jack leaned in closer, lips parting ever so slightly as they pressed against your abdomen. He bit down, teeth sinking into your skin as he sucked at the flesh.
You couldn't help but cry out at the piercing pain, the sensation sending waves of heat through your body like being run over by a truck. You could feel your cock throbbing against your belly, staining it with precum.
"Fuck…" You gasped, voice ragged as you fought to keep control of yourself. But even as you did so, you could feel yourself losing reason.
It wasn't long before you found yourself bucking your hips upward, thrusting your leaky cock into the air. Every now and then, you would glance down to watch him suck at your stomach, hearing his soft moans as he drinks up your blood.
Your cock twitches at the thought of him tearing a chunk out of you and swallowing. You'd probably scream and cry, flailing around like a fish out of water. You can imagine yourself cumming at the sight of him chewing your meat alone.
He's working you up to it though, slowly.
Jack pulls away, leaving a swollen gash in your skin where his teeth had been. Before you could speak, he was already moving onto the next spot.
Another bite, this one deeper than the last.
Your hand tightened around his as you tried to breathe through the pain. It hurt, but goddamn did it feel good. Like getting punched in the gut or twisted up in hot barbed wire. It was rough and gritty and fucking intense.
