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Mates (Sweet Thing Pt.2)

Hare! Original character x bunny! Male reader

Warnings: hints of possessiveness, your owner getting his poor eyes destroyed, cream pie, a bit of an exhibitionism kink, pwp, dirty talk

Note: if you’re confused about the anatomy, in the eyes of humans they’re animals but to each other they’re like hybrids (human with animal features), just don’t think too much about it lol and enjoy the story

The sun didn’t let you slumber peacefully after the night of merciless fucking. You could hear the faint sounds of water flowing nearby as you awoke blearily, feeling a little disoriented. “Ow!”A sharp stab of pain shot through your lower half, the ache a reminder of the shameless acts you had committed. A rush of shame left your face burning as you recalled what you had said in your haze of pleasure. Looking down, you noticed your lower half was clean, had Mr Hare cleaned you up?

Before you could ponder more about it, a loud grumble from your stomach interrupted your thoughts. “Hungry?” A low, magnetic voice sounded beside your ear. “Oh, Mr Hare! I…” Your throat felt dry, what could you say?! The embarrassment was too much… Mr Hare must have known from the way you avoided his gaze but he chose to ignore it, offering you an apple. Looking sheepish, he continued, “Listen, sorry about yesterday. I wasn’t really myself and I must have scared you a lot… I’ve just been really pent up and you smelled absolutely amazing.” His ears were red. Oh. Cute. Even Mr Hare had an adorable side to him. “I don’t mean to really impose on you bunny but after all that, I mean I have to know your name at least,” He smiled apologetically.

“It’s (name)!” You offered a toothy grin in return. “Thank you so much for cleaning me up and giving me this apple, I’m so sorry for intruding upon your territory as well…but I don’t regret it though! You’re so nice and handsome too..I mean..”You blabbered out a thanks but it seemed you said too much, you didn’t mean to! He was really good-looking!! You really didn’t dare to look at his face now, wishing you would vanish from the face of this earth. “Well, (name), the pleasure is mine as your mate. I am glad you found me satisfactory.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a gentle chuckle.

Mates?! Yours eyes widened as you tried to grasp the revelation, your initial astonishment at what he said melting into sheer happiness. Forgetting about the ache in your lower half, you bounced next to him in a fit of excitement, “Really? You mean it? You mean it?” The questions rushed out as you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning uncontrollably. Looking at your delighted expression, Mr Hare muttered an agreement, his eyes crinkling. “Well, Mister Hare, since we’re mates now, I have to tell my owner!” Your tail puffed out in eagerly as you grabbed his hands and stared at him with stars in your eyes.

It didn’t take much convincing as it seemed Mr Hare was rather smitten with you and didn’t mind for the latter part, if your owner were to reject you both, he would just whisk you away anyways even if you didn’t want to. As you bounded in the direction of your home from the meadow with Mr Hare in tow, it seemed as if the odds were in your favour, you even remembered the way back! As you arrived at the familiar sight of your house, you could see the frantic and panicked look of your owner through the window, a sense of guilt weighed down on your heart for worrying him because of your greed. Glancing at your worried face, Mr Hare offered some words of comfort, “(Name), it’s alright, I’m sure your owner would understand.” He was right! You could do this! Leaping through the window, you landed at your owners’s feet with Mr Hare behind you.

“(Name)!? Wait, I’ll talk to you later, this rascal just came back after a day of disappearing!!” Your owner spoke in a rapid fire manner at the person in the phone before hanging up. Disappointment apparent in his displeased expression, he scooped you up. “(Name)! Where have you been? I’ve been worried to death and you just disappear on me?? Where did your shorts go? And- Wait. Did you bring a girl home.” Before your owner could finish giving you a rough talking to, he noticed Mr Hare on the ground, who was clearly disgruntled by the fact that your owner had just snatched you up. “(Name), god damn it! I didn’t spay you because you were the only bunny I had at home but you bring home some random female hare?!?” Clearly perturbed, your owner bemoaned at you.

It seemed your owner was too exasperated to even listen to you…he had even assumed Mr Hare was a female! Mr Hare shot you a look that expressed his irritation. Desperate to explain yourself, you jumped from your owner’s embrace beside Mr Hare and he immediately mounted you, showing his dominance. “God what if she’s pregnant- (Name), what are you doing?! Oh- l.”Left speechless, your owner immediately understood. “Okay, so you were the one who got pounded?? My bunny got mounted by some random hare??? I give up…this is the price I get for pampering you so much (name)…let’s at least get this guy checked to see if he has an owner…” Your owner was so exasperated with the situation that he finally threw up my hands and gave up, leaving to call the animal shelter.

As your owner conceded defeat, you knew despite his sharp words, he had accepted that Mr Hare was now part of your family. Excitement coursed through you at the thought of having Mr Hare around and it seemed like he shared the same idea as well! Just when you were about to rave about the future you had already imagined with Mr Hare and your owner together as one big family, he interrupted you. “Bunny, I don’t really like how your owner just grabbed you away like that…” He wore a scowl of displeasure, his grip on you tightening as if to ward off any potential threat. Mr Hare being all possessive over you just because your owner touched you should have put you off but it didn’t, instead you felt yourself hardening shamefully, your hole twitching.

He noticed, wearing a smug smirk on his face as if he clearly relishing his victory over the competition. “W-wait, Mr Hare… my owner is still here…” However, your words were the opposite of your actions as you teasingly rubbed your ass against his already rock hard dick. “Bunny…you’re really tempting me…” He grunted as he pulled you close, your thighs flush against his cock. A faint blush crept up your neck and cheeks as a low pitched squeak left you. The blunt head of his dick repeatedly rubbing against your rim of muscle, precum wetting your awaiting hole. Mr Hare cooed at you patronisingly before he thrusted into your heat, the immediate stretch and burn of his impossibly huge cock filling you.

Almost going slack from the penetration, your body trembled from the stimulation as the excitement from your owner catching you both made you shamelessly clench around his cock repeatedly. “You like your owner just behind the door, bunny? Catching me pumping my seed into his precious pet, huh?” Mr Hare snarled as his hands teased your chest, hands rolling your taut nipples. “Please.” You cried out, unsure of what you even wanted as your vision grew hazy. It felt impossibly good. “God. Your hole is so tight, my dick’s gonna break.” He laughed as his hips snapped against yours at a brutal speed. “Unh- ah!” You moaned, tongue now lolling out and eyes rolling back as the pleasure built up and left you reeling in its wake.

The sensation of his cock spearing you open again and again felt so good. The obscene squelch of your hole after every slap of his balls against your skin echoed in the room. It was too much. The tension in your body building up and snapping as you orgasmed. As wave after wave of pleasure crashed into you, your walls pulsed around Mr Hare’s cock rapidly, milking him of what he was worth. Your cock painted your tummy in white as you slurred incoherently, Mr Hare’s grip on you bruisingly tight as his pace stuttered. “Fuck.” Mr Hare moaned. It was not long before hot spurts of cum splashed your insides with his semen. Pulling out his soft cock, a vulgar squelch sounded, followed by his cum dripping out of your swollen hole.

Too exhausted to even feel ashamed about what you did, you lay against Mr Hare as the afterglow left you dazed. Gently cradling in his arms, he kissed your nape in satisfaction. Unfortunately, your sweet moment was interrupted by your owner coming in. “Alright, I’ve confirmed he doesn’t have an owner so we’ll just adopt him and get him vaccinated for some shots… (Name)?! Oh god.”

At least you were both now mates at least…but your owner’s eyes would need some time to recover…

note: I rly need to give this guy a name lol I can’t keep calling him Mr Hare in smut scenes 😭💀 I didn’t beta this so there might be some spelling errors

Reblogs are appreciated! 🙏

Hehehehhe I feel like this is a good representation of me I love this ❤️❤️

i found this darling little picrew by @hellosunnycore and if it isn’t just the cutest thing i’ve ever seen!!

no pressure tagging some mutuals who’d i’d love to see! @pettyprocrastination @sprout-fics @soapskneebrace @yeyinde @mvtthewmurdvck @charnelhouse @inklore @guyfieriii @vaderstherapist @honeydjarin @haylzcyon & anybody else who’d wanna have a go <3

breaking news.

bruce wayne x male reader headcanon.

summary: bruce has been making national headlines once again, but this time, you're caught up in it.

warnings: bale!bruce, panicked!reader, media frenzy surrounding relationship with bruce!

dating bruce wayne in public included explosive media coverage when the news of your relationship first leaked. for weeks upon weeks, it was all every news outlet and the public could talk about—gossip about. people couldn't flip through their tv, or scroll through their phone without seeing:

THIS JUST IN: BRUCE WAYNE, MULTI-BILLIONAIRE PHILANTHROPIST AND PLAYBOY, CAUGHT IN ROMANTIC RENDEZVOUS WITH... A MAN?

it all started with a photo; a voyeuristic shot that framed you and bruce sitting in one of the restaurants that he'd invested in, holding hands and laughing by the candle light. it was one of the many dates where he closed business for the night for privacy reasons—to keep you safe from the public's eye. and judging from the angle, it was evident that it was one of the employees that had managed to stay back in the building.

to be honest, it was tasteful. nothing scandalous or even remotely explicit, especially if you had to compare to the scandals of men of bruce's status. as much as you felt like your privacy was invaded, you couldn't help but feel relieved when you saw bruce's smile in the photo. the way he looked at you with such doting eyes, his thumb caressing over the bridge between your index and thumb, the plates of food left cold because you were addicted to his company, and vice versa.

it was an intimate moment that was ruined by selfishness—greed.

for a brief moment, you felt... scared. the windows in your apartment were immediately shut and blinded by curtains; the locks in your doors were triple-checked; your passwords were immediately changed to new ones you'd probably forget in the future. you felt eyes on your back, pierced through the walls, watching your every move even if they hadn't.

and as much as you teased bruce about leaving him after your fifteen minutes of fame, you needed him more than ever.

"bruce, what do i—what's happening?""alfred's coming, you're at home, right? i'm talking with my security team right now and—"

it wouldn't be long until people found out who the 'mysterious man' in question was.

in less than an hour, your social media presence had a tenfold increase. photos on your feed received more comments and likes you could ever count. many of them ran with the narrative that you were simply an object of bruce's undisclosed desire for men, his boy toy. and before you knew it, the news outlet began reporting the same, including their own findings of your life.

dating bruce wayne in public included him hugging you as soon as you arrived to his manor. it was a protective instinct that had been brewing since he heard how panicked—how afraid you were—on the phone. while multiple phones rang off the hook, bruce took the time to let you breathe into you, to find a sense of peace as he held you, comforted you with affectionate words in your ear, affectionate touches that rendered you calm and ultimately safe again.

dating bruce wayne in public included bruce addressing his relationship with you in a press conference. it was silly that it had come to this point, but he made sure his feelings regarding how the news outlets had turned a relationship between two men into a media frenzy were known.

"yes, i am in a loving relationship with (M/N)." "no, i am not dating a man for relevancy." "who wears the pants—really? security, let's escort him out, please?" "no, my fiancé is not what those rumors have suggested." "and yes, (M/N) is my fiancé. be kinder, and i ever so might have the fleeting thought to invite you all to my wedding."

dating bruce wayne in public meant that you were advised to keep your answers as vague as possible when you were approached by paparazzis. there were few times where you could escape, but they came in massive groups, bombarding you, and the security team that bruce had hired to protect you, with questions that would guarantee the tabloids massive engagement, but you wouldn't falter.

"ah... yes—he's doing very well, thank you." "oh? my coat? bruce gifted it to me on my birthday a few years ago!" "what do i like... uh, cooking! i make a mean burger—ask bruce yourself!"

and as the public began to know you more, through your timid answers, to the wary and tired smile that only emphasized the dark circles on your face, you were rather... charming? compared to bruce, they've quickly fallen in love with how personal you could be at times. where bruce was always stoic and formal in his answers, you stuttered and answered with a laugh, unexpectedly cracking a joke in between.

it didn't take much interaction before the public realized what made bruce fall in love with a man like you.

dating bruce wayne in public included you becoming quite of a celebrity yourself. alongside bruce's, your day was documented from the very minute you stepped onto a sidewalk and started your day. what was your order at the local coffee shop? what did you like having for lunch? your favorite movie? your favorite thing about bruce?

you were a hot commodity and everyone wanted a piece of you.

though, that never stopped your weekly dates with him. golfing, swimming, hiking, eating; you'd hear the clicks of photos being taken from the shadows, and it was bruce who always held you closer, by the shoulders or by the hand to remind you that you were safe with him.

"they'll get tired of us eventually.""hopefully..."

with him by your side, it wasn't so bad that the camera flashes never failed to blind you whenever you two shared a sweet kiss.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

ⓘㅤ 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐌 ⠀⠀( 你将是我的！)

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 “ ✉. Being an exotic dancer can have its perks, making the bar owner obsessed with you is one of them.

⠀،،⠀Genre. ’ Suggestive, fanfiction, drama, Mafia! Heeseung x Stripper!malereader.

( 𝒄/𝒘. )───Alcohol, drugs, half-baked sex, blood (mild).

The club was at its peak, lights flickering across the space as bodies swayed to the rhythm of the music. Among them, one figure stood out—[...]—whose lean frame and hypnotic movements drew every gaze. He wasn't just another dancer; he was a living work of art, though he always kept an emotional distance. His job was to dance, nothing more. He wasn’t the type who sold himself for a few hours or minutes. If they wanted his company, they’d have to settle for watching, because his body was his own, and it wasn’t for sale.

Even so, he couldn’t shake the weight of Heeseung’s gaze from the VIP section—a stare that seemed to burn from across the room. It was impossible to ignore. Heeseung had a presence that consumed everything around him, like a predator surveying his territory. His striking face, chiseled jaw, and dark eyes made him stand out even more. But what truly made him intimidating was the effortless control he had over everything around him. As he smoked his cigarette, shirt slightly unbuttoned with a silver chain glinting under the dim light, he seemed to command not just the room, but the situation itself.

[...]—flirty but always mindful of his professionalism—continued his routine, his movements perfectly calculated to captivate but never invite anything more. It was a delicate game, one he knew how to play. Every spin, every glide of his body along the pole was a statement: "You can look, but you can't touch." But when his eyes met Heeseung’s, something shifted. That man had a silver tongue, one that had likely brought down people much tougher than [...] was used to. And worst of all, Heeseung knew it. He knew [...] noticed him and relished the power it gave him.

When the show ended, [...] stepped off the stage with the same grace he had climbed onto it, his eyes locked onto Heeseung's. He knew this moment was inevitable. He had watched Heeseung for weeks, aware that this man wasn’t like the other patrons who frequented the club. Heeseung was dangerous—not just for what he could do, but for what he represented. A man like him didn’t just have money and power; he had the ability to destroy lives with a smile.

Heeseung rose from his seat in the VIP section and approached with the same calm demeanor that defined him. Every step was measured, as though the world revolved around him. When he finally reached [...], he wasted no time.

“How much for the night?” he asked, his voice smooth but firm, as if he already knew the answer. His gaze never left [...]’s, not for a second.

[...] met his eyes, knowing that anyone else would have crumbled under his game, but not him. He couldn’t afford to fall so easily. Even though Heeseung tempted him with that silver tongue and overwhelming presence, [...] wasn’t the type to sell his body. Not for anyone, and certainly not for money.

“I don’t charge for my time—just for my dance,” [...] replied, his tone playful but firm, making it clear he wasn’t for sale. His smile was a double-edged sword, teasing but with enough distance to let Heeseung know he wouldn’t be easy to get.

Heeseung smirked slightly, as if he had expected that answer. His eyes narrowed as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, and the air between them grew heavier. “I’m not interested in what you charge, [...]. I’m interested in you,” he said, his deep voice cutting through the noise of the club. “And trust me, it’s not about the money.”

[...] kept his composure, though he felt the pressure of that gaze. He knew Heeseung wasn’t the type to take no for an answer easily, but he also knew how to handle these situations. His body was his business, and no one was going to claim it.

“Heeseung, you’re the kind of man who always gets what he wants, aren’t you?” [...] said, his tone teasing but measured. “But there’s something you need to understand. I’m not part of that ‘everything’ you can snap your fingers and get.”

Heeseung’s smile widened just a fraction, as if he was enjoying the challenge. He took a step closer, invading [...]’s personal space without hesitation. “I don’t bend for anyone, [...],” he said, his voice carrying a dangerous edge. “But I’ll give you a chance to reconsider. I’m not a man who waits around too long.”

The tension between them was palpable. [...] may have been flirting with the idea, but he knew Heeseung wasn’t like the other men he’d dealt with. This man was determined, serious, and behind those dark eyes, there was a world of danger that [...] couldn’t even begin to imagine. And yet, there was something about Heeseung that pulled him in—something that made him want to know more.

[...] smirked, tilting his head slightly. “Two hours. That’s all you’re getting. If that works for you, great. If not, I’m sure there are others who’d be happy to dance for you.”

Heeseung held his gaze, never breaking eye contact. “Two hours will do for now,” he said, his tone low and controlled. “But trust me, it won’t be enough for either of us. There’s more between us, and you know it.”

As Heeseung stubbed out his cigarette and stepped back, [...] couldn’t help but feel like he had just entered a game far bigger than he had anticipated. A game where Heeseung always seemed to have the final word. But one thing was certain: [...] wasn’t about to give in so easily, no matter how tempting this man was—the man who, with a smile, could burn the world for the right person.

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The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension when [...] finally walked in, making Heeseung wait over thirty minutes. It was deliberate—every second of delay was part of the game, a way to stretch Heeseung’s patience even further.

Dressed in something bold and borderline obscene, yet undeniably elegant, [...] sauntered toward him with slow, calculated steps.

The room—an exclusive, high-end suite known as the Crystal Room—was built for moments like this: low lights, velvet couches, and an unavoidable air of intimacy. It wasn’t like the other club rooms, this was reserved for the high rollers, the VIPs who craved a more personal experience. But tonight, [...]’ focus was locked onto his sole audience: Heeseung.

Heeseung lounged on the couch, watching him, his presence as commanding as ever. In one hand, a crystal glass of whiskey, and between his fingers, a cigarette that he lazily brought to his lips every now and then. His white shirt was undone just enough to reveal his chiseled chest, a silver chain dangling over his skin.

His piercing gaze had never once left [...] from the second he’d entered the room.

“Made me wait, didn’t you,” Heeseung’s voice was low and gravelly as he tilted his head slightly, taking a sip of whiskey. His eyes glinted with desire, but there was an edge of frustration too.

[...] smiled, knowing full well the effect he had on him.

"I just wanted to make sure you were ready for what's about to happen," he teased, his voice dripping with seduction as he moved with fluid grace through the room.

Slowly, [...] began his routine, spinning around the pole in the center of the room with movements that left little to the imagination. But it wasn’t just the dance that captivated Heeseung—it was the way [...] shed his clothes, piece by piece, each move a promise of passion.

First, he undid his leather jacket, letting it slide gracefully to the floor. Then, in one smooth motion, he pulled off his tight shirt, revealing his sculpted torso.

Heeseung’s gaze darkened, and he shifted in his seat, spreading his legs wider as his fingers played with the rim of his glass and the buttons of his shirt.

[...] could feel the shift in the air, the way the tension built with each step. His hips swayed slowly, his body arching, drawing closer to Heeseung only to pull away again. The game was clear—the seduction, the tease, the unspoken promise between two bodies that craved each other.

Heeseung, for his part, couldn’t stop readjusting in his seat. With a slow gesture, he began loosening his cool, his eyes never leaving [...]’ form. "You're killing me, you know that?" he muttered, undoing more buttons, exposing his entire chest.

[...] smirked as he spun around, letting Heeseung take in every angle. "Killing you? I thought you liked a little foreplay," he teased, though his eyes remained sharp, focused.

Heeseung let out a dry chuckle, his fingers undoing the last of his shirt buttons, fully revealing his toned chest, that silver chain catching the dim light.

“You know damn well what you’re doing,” his deep voice dripped with desire. "But come here... I don't want you dancing so far away."

Before [...] could respond, he felt Heeseung’s strong hands grip his waist, pulling him onto his lap. The contact was electric, their skin brushing as Heeseung’s breath became heavier. “Dance here,” Heeseung commanded in a tone that left no room for argument.

The contact was immediate, and the heat between them grew almost tangible. [...] slowed his movements as he settled on Heeseung’s lap, feeling the tension in the mobster’s body as he let out a soft groan.

“That’s better,” Heeseung whispered, his hands roaming over [...]’ hips, tracing his body with a mixture of possession and admiration. "Right where I want you."

As [...] moved slowly on him, Heeseung closed his eyes for a brief moment, savoring the feeling of having him so close, his usual control slipping away bit by bit. His hands traveled up [...]’ waist, over his back, until they reached his shoulders.

[...] met his gaze with a seductive smile, grinding slowly against him, creating a friction that only made the tension between them grow. "You like that, huh?" he teased, enjoying the rare vulnerability he saw flicker across his client’s face.

Heeseung’s eyes opened, locking onto [...]’, and for a moment, everything else faded. The room was silent, save for the soft music playing in the background, heavy with unspoken promises.

“It’s not about liking it,” Heeseung whispered, his voice a mere breath as his hands cupped [...]’ face, giving his cheeks a firm squeeze. “It’s about the fact that you’ve got me wrapped around your finger. Completely.”

The heat between them was building with every motion. [...] continued grinding on him, his hips moving slowly on the dominant’s lap, each brush a reminder of the rising desire.

But despite the closeness, there was an ongoing power struggle—a silent game where, no matter how much Heeseung tried to dominate, he couldn’t hide his vulnerability in front of the man who had him hooked.

Heeseung let one hand slide down [...]’ back, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone with his reputation.

“Quit playing games with me,” he whispered with a dangerous smile, his eyes a mix of frustration and hunger. “You know how badly I want you…” His breath was hot against [...]’ ear, causing the dancer’s skin to tingle.

Feeling the intensity of the moment and the growing ache between his legs, [...] leaned forward, his chest brushing against Heeseung’s, his breath hovering just over his neck. “Then why don’t you take me, boss? If you want me that bad…” The challenge in his voice was clear, but so was the invitation.

Heeseung’s gaze darkened, becoming even more intense as his hands gripped [...]’ hips firmly.

“You’re too damn good at this, shit..” he growled with a crooked smile, pulling him closer, eliminating what little space was left between them. “But I’m done playing... tonight, you’re all mine.”

Heeseung held onto [...]’ waist with a possessive grip, his fingers digging into his skin as the brunette’s heart raced even faster. The room felt charged, each passing second deepening the tension. Heeseung’s eyes dropped to [...]’ lips, darkened with desire, and with a sudden decision, he closed the gap.

The kiss was rough, desperate, a crash of lips that had been waiting too long. There was no gentleness, only a raw, primal need that had been building throughout the dancer’s teasing.

Heeseung grabbed [...]’ face with one hand, his thumb pressing firmly against his jaw, holding him in place. The kiss was intense, as if Heeseung wanted to claim every inch of the boy mouth, a hunger he could no longer contain.

The mobster’s tongue skillfully invaded [...]’ mouth, drawing a soft moan from the dancer as Heeseung’s lips moved with more wild urgency, the taste of whiskey and nicotine flooding his senses.

[...] could feel his own body reacting with a growing need, his hands finding their way to Heeseung’s shoulders, clutching at his shirt as the heat between them swelled, unstoppable.

Heeseung let out a low growl, his lips never leaving [...]’, as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Every movement was ravenous, like he wanted to devour him whole, and with every passing second, the control he prided himself on was slipping away.

His fingers trailed down [...]’ back, leaving a trail of heat in their wake until they reached the edge of his pants. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you,” he murmured against his lips, breaking the kiss just long enough to whisper those words before diving back in.

[...] could hardly think, his body trembling under Heeseung’s dominance, feeling the growing pressure of the mobster’s arousal beneath him. His mind clouded with desire, overwhelmed by the way Heeseung kissed him, touched him, made him feel like the only thing that mattered in the world at that moment.

Heeseung’s hands, quick and confident, slid lower, gripping his ass firmly. The touch made [...] gasp, his body instinctively leaning closer to Heeseung, craving more of the fire that consumed them both, burning hotter with each passing second.

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The room was filled with fragmented sounds,

[...]’s muffled moans blending with the steady rhythm of their bodies colliding.

Heeseung had taken complete control of the situation, his body moving with a wild precision as he thrust into [...] again and again, showing no mercy.

The stripper's body quivered under each thrust, his skin tingling, marked entirely by Heeseung's fingers digging into his hips and buttocks, leaving clear reddish traces that would take days to fade.

[...] lay on the bed, his chest pressed against the sweat-soaked sheets, his hips elevated in the air, fully presenting himself to Heeseung. His hands tried to grip the sheets, but he could barely hold on as every movement from Heeseung made him lose any semblance of control over his own body.

He was completely disheveled, his hair plastered to his forehead, and his skin flushed a deep red, a testament to the pleasure consuming him.

Heeseung, on the other hand, was focused on every movement, his gaze locked on how his cock plunged in and out of [...], marking him deep within, claiming him in a way that left no doubt about who was dominating at that moment.

“Look at you… taking me so well,” he growled through clenched teeth, his hands gripping [...]’s ass harder, pulling him apart with a force that only heightened the pressure and pleasure. “No one else will have you like this… only me.”

[...] tried to respond, but the words slipped away. He could barely form coherent sounds; his moans mingled with broken gasps, and every time he attempted to speak, all that came out was a faint stutter from his own lips.

His body was so sensitive that each thrust left him breathless, his mind completely clouded by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him.

Heeseung's movements grew more aggressive, his rhythm unyielding as he pushed deeper and deeper into [...], harder each time. The sound of skin slapping against skin grew louder, echoing with each wave that rippled across the passive's flushed cheeks, resonating in the room.

[...]’s muffled moans became sharper, his body unable to contain the impact of each thrust, his nails clawing at the sheets as he felt his mind unravel under the pressure.

“I'm going to fill you… until you can’t think of anything else but what we did tonight, how this ass took my cock...” Heeseung murmured in a deep voice, leaning over [...]’s body, his hot breath colliding against the stripper's sweaty back.

Heeseung took one of [...]’s hands and slid it down the side of his body, squeezing one of his glutes tightly, eliciting a stifled moan.

The sensation of Heeseung's touch, combined with the marks he left, made [...] feel completely possessed, invaded by an overwhelming wave of desire he couldn’t ignore. Every time Heeseung’s fingers sank into his skin, it felt like the heat inside him intensified, as if the fire burning between them would never extinguish.

The rhythm quickened, and [...] could no longer hold back; his climax had arrived once more. His moans turned into a constant echo, his body trembling beneath Heeseung as he filled him again and again.

His mind was lost in pleasure, every fiber of his being focused on the intensity of the thrusts, on how Heeseung claimed him without reservation, without mercy.

Finally, when the climax seemed imminent, Heeseung let out a low, deep grunt, gripping [...]'s hips tighter, moving with a brutal rhythm as he pushed one last time with a depth that made him groan in pure ecstasy.

[...]’s body tensed, his back arching from the pleasure of being filled. His mind went blank, his legs shaking from pleasure as his breathing became erratic, releasing soft sobs.

Heeseung, still moving, leaned down to gently bite the skin of [...]’s shoulder, leaving one last mark, a final claim over his body.

"You’re mine, forever," he whispered in a low voice, his lips brushing against the chestnut’s ear as they both collapsed onto the bed, their bodies exhausted yet satisfied, illuminated by the dim light of the moon that still enveloped them.

After a few minutes, Heeseung slowly withdrew, his breath still heavy as he pulled out of [...] with one last deep sigh.

As he exited him, the wet sound and [...]’s faint whimper made him smile with pride.

He watched as the boy’s hips sank heavily onto the bed, too weak to hold themselves up after what they had shared.

[...]'s skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, the muscles in his back taut and trembling as Heeseung gazed at him, utterly pleased.

His eyes drifted downward, darkening even further as he noticed his seed slowly leaking from [...], sliding down to his balls. The sight before him was living proof of his dominance, a testament to how he had marked and claimed the boy’s body during those hours when he had pushed him to his limits again and again.

Heeseung's smile widened, tinged with a mix of perversion and satisfaction at seeing the result of their wild passion.

“You look gorgeous like this, completely filled with me,” he murmured in a gravelly voice, his warm breath caressing the nape of [...]’s neck as one of his hands glided gently down his sweaty back.

He caressed the curve of his hip, making sure to feel every trembling muscle, every trace of exhaustion he had left on his body. “I can’t help but smile when I see you so wrecked... knowing I was the one who left you like this.”

[...], exhausted, could barely move. His body trembled with the remnants of pleasure and painful bliss coursing through him, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath.

Every muscle ached, every part of him marked, not just by Heeseung's hands and lips, but by the brutality with which he had put him into positions he had already lost count of. His mind was foggy, barely aware of where he was.

During the nearly three hours they had spent together, Heeseung had explored every corner of the room. He had flipped [...] over the sofa, pushed him against the wall, laid him across the center table, and finally returned to the bed, each time with overwhelming intensity.

In each of those moments, he had brought [...] to the brink of ecstasy, only to stop just before he could fall, prolonging the pleasure until the dancer's body could no longer withstand it.

[...] let out a low moan as he tried to move, but his body didn’t quite respond. His back involuntarily arched as Heeseung’s trembling hands still caressed him, now with a softer touch, as if savoring the calm after the storm.

The marks from the thrusts still throbbed on his skin, and he felt the heat inside him starting to cool, though the sensations remained as intense as moments before.

Heeseung, still wearing that arrogant smile, watched as [...]’s body surrendered completely.

“You’re beautiful like this... completely mine,” he murmured, leaning down to gently kiss the base of [...]’s back, right where the marks from his hands were still visible. “There’s not a single spot in this room where I haven’t taken you... not a corner I haven’t fucked.”

[...] could only nod weakly, his breathing labored and his mind lost in fatigue. Exhaustion was overwhelming him, but he still felt the echo of pleasure in his body, a constant reminder of what had just happened.

Heeseung slowly lay down beside [...], watching as his body still trembled slightly from what they had just shared. With a cigarette perched between his lips, he took a deep drag, letting the smoke drift through the dimly lit room.

[...] lay on his side, palm pressed against the bed, eyes closed, barely able to move, his body spent after hours of intense passion.

Heeseung exhaled slowly, observing how the stripper weakly shifted, his marks visible on every inch of his skin. His fingers gently brushed against [...]’s back, tracing soft lines on his skin, provoking a faint shiver.

“Does it hurt a lot?” Heeseung asked in a low tone, stroking his body with an unusual tenderness for someone like him.

[...] let out a soft “Mmh...” in response, too exhausted to formulate words but making it clear he was still aware of every caress.

“I hate you...” [...] murmured, his voice weak but filled with satisfaction. “Look what you’ve done to me... my whole body is covered in marks, I can’t even move properly.”

A wider smile spread across Heeseung’s lips, letting out a low, husky laugh. “You hate me? A few hours ago, you couldn’t stop saying how much you loved it when my cock was inside you and how big it felt,” he shot back, his tone playful but satisfied. His hands squeezed [...]’s hips tighter.

[...] rolled his eyes, hiding a smile at the corners of his mouth. “Mmh…” was the only response he could muster.

Heeseung regarded him with calculating eyes, relishing the control he had over him. "What a hypocrite..." he whispered, his voice laced with a teasing tone as his fingers glided down the curve of [...]’s back.

[...] let out a shaky sigh, too worn out to argue, too caught up in the moment to fight against the pleasure still coursing through him.

Heeseung continued to watch him in silence, his hand grazing [...]’s skin with a gentler touch this time, as the tension in the room began to ease.

Heeseung broke the silence again, his tone turning serious. “I want you to stop dancing.” His words were direct, shedding the softness of their previous intimacy. “I don’t want anyone else to see you. I want you to be mine and mine alone.”

[...] slightly widened his eyes, though he didn’t respond immediately. Heeseung pressed on, never breaking eye contact. “I can give you everything you want. You wouldn’t need this job anymore... If you want it, I can give you the whole world.” His fingers continued to trace the young man's skin, his cheek flushed from the agitation of the past few hours.

[...] merely smiled, letting out a soft sigh, shifting slightly closer to the taller man’s touch, though it was clear he was listening intently.

“You really... Would you really give me everything?” he murmured, his voice weak but curious, his eyes squinting again from the tender caresses he was receiving, fighting to stay awake.

Heeseung nodded slowly, though [...] didn’t see him. “Everything you want... Just say the word.” His tone was almost hypnotic as he continued to soothingly stroke the weary boy's face and body.

The room fell into silence after that, filled only with the gentle sound of [...]’s breathing. Heeseung watched him sleep, his expression softening as he kept caressing him, waiting, fully aware that [...]’s answer would take time to come.

“Just think about it.”

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ݁⠀⠀،،⠀⠀메모 ! ㅤ⸻ㅤ I honestly just wrote this idea while listening to this song by Amaarae. Although I didn't think I would add smut either... anyway, I'll do the second part later.︐⠀📍⠀

⠀𝒊. ⠀─⠀ All credits to @angelsfat3 / @foschiamara⠀𝄒

. . . ₍⠀아이디어 !ㅤ⸻ㅤI'm very short of ideas lately, so feel free to leave me any requests! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>⠀₎⠀ ִֶָ

˖⠀⠀ ݁⠀©⠀،،⠀If you liked it you can like, follow me or reblog!!

dealing with the worst case scenario

your condom breaks

you feel a lump on your breast

your friends are ignoring you

you’re stranded on an island 

you got rejected by a crush

you get into a car accident

you got stung by a bee/wasp

you got fired from your job

you’re in an earthquake

your tattoo gets infected

your house is on fire

you’re lost in the woods

you get arrested abroad

you get robbed

your partner cheated on you

you’re on a ship that’s sinking

you fall into ice

you’re stuck in an elevator

you hit a deer with your car

you have food poisoning

your pet passed away

you fall off of a horse

you or your friend has alcohol poisoning

you have toxic shock syndrome

your house has a gas leak

Like and reblog if you can relate to this:

Good shit 👌

I NEED A TASTE OF YOU (not proof read)

Fetishizing She/Her, She/They, Females DNI

Murdoc x Male reader x 2D (Seperate)

Smut Headcannon

Blood Kink, Marks, BDSM, Smut, Fluff

MURDOC

- Murdoc definitely seems like a person who would be rough in bed. He’s possessive wanting to claim you so people know your his.

- This man would totally bite you and have bite marks, scratch and hickeys all over you and you make you flaunt them. But I also feel like he would like a few hickeys and scratches on himself in return.

- Holy hell is Murdoc into BDSM? Yes, this man would have you tied up on the bed post dominating you. You’ll be crying with pleasure and be begging for his dick.

- He’s a huge tease especially if you’ve been a bad boy, It would be to the point that you have a cock ring on while he’s railing you from behind. He would fuck you dumb and you’d like it.

- I feel like he’ll have a blood kink but only if your into it and if you are expect a lot of cutting. But he would still be caution to not cut too deep or on a vain or something.

- Good thing about this man is that he has a soft spot for you and the aftercare you get spoiled. A bubble bath with him while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. Rubbing your back the next day while treating you with breakfast in bed and some cuddles while watching shitty horror movies while laughing.

2D

- 2d is a softie and would be soft in bed. He would always check up on you if he thinks he’s too rough.

- He is a GOD in bed, this man is slow but sensual, he’s defiently a dom in bed but would 100% let you be a power bottom and just ride him on some days.

- If you want to do something kinky he would gladly like marking with a ton of hickeys alll over your body like your neck, chest, ass, just spots where people can see and spots where he personally can see.

- One of 2D’s favorite thing is to just eat you out like a goddamn lollipop and he enjoys the faces and moans you make while he does it. He would ask for you to just sit on his face and just suffocate him to death with your ass.

- 2D’s blow jobs are to literally die for, he goes down on it. He’s just majestic in made and he fucks like a GOD. Like honestly he gives your more pleasure during sex basically meaning he likes to give rather than receive.

- 2D’s aftercare is something to die for like this man would spoil you and apologize if he thinks he went too hard on you. Expect a lot of cuddles, a heated blanket, and more cuddles. He wouldn’t let you lift a finger for anything and he’ll do anything for you. A glass of water? Already got it right here. Cookies? Yes. And that’s all he would do for you

I love this so much!

All’s Fair In Love and War

Summary:

“How would you like it if someone told you to stop sleeping around like the manwhore that you are?” He jabs back. Your hand goes to his face; roses wind up your arm, and the thorns prick at his skin as they come up to your fingers, “We may be lovers, darling, but need I remind you I won’t hesitate to strangle you,” you darkly tell him, stroking his cheek. “Oh, my poor sweet darling,” you coo, voice changing tone; Homelander’s body grows lax, and the rose on your hand puffs out a cloud of spores.

Pairings:

Homelander x Gender Neutral!Reader

Tags:

Deity AU | Ares!Homelander | Aphrodite!Reader | Ares/Aphrodite Inspired | Not Myth Accurate | Headcanons

Words: 2122

Author's Note:

I was curious, and I went through the Homelander tag and as it turns out there are apparently no male!reader or gender neutral!reader fics so I decided I might as well have a go at writing for the homicidal superman. This fic is inspired by the Ares & Aphrodite myth, which I took some ✨liberties✨ with.

So, how does the god of love end up with the god of war? Simple, Vought had decided the best way to appease the gods was to hold a feast and celebration in their name; naturally, John’s offering was violent. Yours, on the other hand, was quite interesting; two lovers dedicated themselves to you and, in their commitment, offered their blood as a seal of their devotion and then proceeded to use said blood to paint your insignia before dying from blood loss. Not sure what went through his head when he saw you smile at that, but he was down, scared, horny, and in love.

Tonight, the gods spend time mingling with the mortals, well, more like among them, as the humans stare at them all in awe, the humans looking up at the tall encompassing gods. Barely any of them spoke, but Homelander wasn’t paying any attention to that. His eyes were on you; you sat surrounded by several humans, lounging back as they brought you offering after offering. 

He decides to take the approach with the offerings; he sifts through the objects lying around; when none satisfy him, he moves to going through the humans waiting in line to see you; he steals finds a hand-tailored silk scarf, a hand-sized marble sculpture, and a handful of handcrafted jewels. He also cuts in line, dropping his ‘gifts’ in your lap.

“Stealing from my devotees, quite a boisterous move, warbringer,” you say to him, inspecting the statue. It was built in your likeness, painted colorfully, and detailed with small jewels. You beckon the sculptor forward, blessing her and then the others he stole from, before turning your attention to John. You beckon him forward, and he happily comes close; you hold his chin, “So then, Homelander, what can I do for you?”

You fuck, like he grabs your arm, and the two of you go and fuck behind the temple.

Given Homelander’s personality, and yours, the two of you have a strange relationship; you’re both rather possessive of the other, you much less and more subtle and equally prone to jealousy. The gods don’t care much; Vought doesn’t like it, but what are they going to do against the gods and the average mortals? They like it. When Homelander is busy with you, there’s less war because he’s focused on sex.

Let’s go back to that jealousy thing; there are two notable moments for both sides. For Homelander, it was the time a mortal prayed you would marry them; the town they lived in got leveled by a series of attacks until there was nothing left. For you, it was the time - correction multiple times - his little devotees tried to undermine you; note to self, nothing speaks divine retribution like a god striking you with death.

It gets the message across, but there’s also the fact that gods tend to have egos, so two gods who like each other but also have egos, that’s quite the combo. One moment you’re lovey-dovey; the next, one of you is threatening to kill the other, but if we compare other godly couples in mythology - ✨Dapne the naiad having her river-god father turn her into a tree so she could avoid Apollo✨or ✨Hera trying to kill off a lot of Zeus’ bastard children✨ or ✨any other Greek Myth at this point✨- technically, you guys are pretty normal 💀.

There’s a loud crash outside your temple, followed by the screams of your worshippers as they run off at the sound of Homelander’s anger. You roll your eyes, “If you kill another one of my worshippers, I’ll skewer you with your own weapons.”

He rushed in not long after, throwing his helmet by the door, pulling at his hair as you recline back in your long chair. He throws his hands in the air while grumbling to himself. 

“So then, what's got you angry today?” you ask. 

“The other gods want me to cease my duties, per Vought’s request,” he replies, “apparently, war makes it harder for humans.” He mutters the word humans with disgust, mimicking air quotes as he mocks what he was told. 

“Well, I must agree with them,” you start; Homelander rushed forward, hands coming beside your head as his eyes glow red. “Now, now dear, at least hear me out before you try and kill me.” His eyes lose their red tint, “Thank you, as I was saying, war may be fun for you, but for the mortals down there, it’s quite the hassle. You know, considering a lot of them die.”

Homelander’s face pinched in irritation, “I’m the god of war; what else am I supposed to do?! Hold their hands?!”

“Dearest, you are far too angry over this.”

“How would you like it if someone told you to stop sleeping around like the manwhore that you are?” He jabs back.

Your hand goes to his face; roses wind up your arm, and the thorns prick at his skin as they come up to your fingers, “We may be lovers, darling, but need I remind you I won’t hesitate to strangle you,” you darkly tell him, stroking his cheek. “Oh, my poor sweet darling,” you coo, voice changing tone; Homelander’s body grows lax, and the rose on your hand puffs out a cloud of spores.

He becomes putty in your hands, “I hate it when you do that,” he mutters, dropping on top of you; you run your hands through his hair as his voice drawls out into nonsensical mumbles.

“No, you don’t; you love it, don’t you, darling?” He shudders in your grip, and you move around the long chair, “Lie back, relax,” your voice commands, “let me show you some love.” 

As the god of love, you do have the underlying power of control and persuasion; it’s akin to having someone give you their full devotion, and believe you me, that power comes in handy when Homelander’s being a little shit. It also comes in handy in other places, but I’ll leave that to your imagination.

Like Aphrodite, there was talk of you marrying Hephaestus; unlike the original myths, there was interference. Homelander threatened to level whole cities if that happened; when the gods laughed it off, he did just that, managed to get through two cities before they called it off. The mortals were not happy; a few stopped giving him offerings but returned pretty soon when you persuaded them. A few of them, the Boys, as they call themselves, started desecrating Homelander’s temples, and boy, oh boy, if he wasn’t mad before, he certainly was now.

“Don’t,” you order, but his anger overwhelms him, “Homelander!” He ignores you, grabbing his helmet and weaponry and wrapping his cape around his shoulder; vines shoot up, and flowers bloom to cage him in. “John, don’t, these are mortals, not jealous conquests, and they are angry; you hurt them, and not even my share of tributes will keep you in Olympus’ good graces.”

His eyes are glowing red, and his jaw is clenched tight, “You think I give a shit about what Olympus thinks? Not even Zeus can tell me what to do!” He stabs the vines hectically, charging forward as you chase after him. “I’m the fucking Homelander; I can do whatever I want!” His angry war cry carries out through the skies, the birds fly away in terror, and you take a breath of frustration when the sky darkens. 

“Exalted one, should I bring out the wine?” one of your attendants ask; you nod, rubbing your forehead.

“Bring out the wine, food, and some medical equipment; that idiot’s going to limp back here like the fool that he is.”

“With all due respect, exalted one, why bother with him?” she asks. You turn to her, eyes furious, and she bows low, quivering, as she repeatedly apologizes, “Forgive me; I spoke out of turn.”

“Out!” you shout; another attendant brings what you requested, and just as you predicted, Homelander returns days later, armor torn, wounds and scorch marks everywhere. He falls next to you, head in your lap; you yank lightly at his hair, “Idiot.”

“I’m bleeding right now; can’t you offer me comfort?”

You yank his hair again, “Well, if you’d listened to me, then maybe, you wouldn’t be in this state. Did you kill them?” you dare to ask. He nuzzles into your lap and shakes his head slowly, “Good.”

Homelander gets to help rebuild every city he demolished during his tantrum; we’ve talked about Homelander and his scary moments; let’s talk about you. Because I’m sure, as you’ve probably been thinking, how exactly can the god of love be as terrifying as the god of war? Well, love is sweet, but it can also be dangerous and creatively murderous.

There’s only been one instance of your temple’s being desecrated, but that was quickly resolved after you drove the looters to madly seek out merfolk, so much so that they ended up crashing their ship and dying at sea. Or the time you cursed an entire army to doomed love, thus inflicting the end of their families, wives, husbands, children, and homes - all in one night. But perhaps the greatest example of your wrath is perhaps the brief moment when Homelander decided to go about and have a mistress, correction a second lover. 

Now you have nothing against one taking on multiple lovers, as long as all is consensual, but for this instance, it was with Stormfront, goddess of victory. It’s no secret that you and her share nothing more than hatred for each other.

There’s nothing quite like the sound of angry screaming coming from the god of love; there’s nothing quite like it since the sound causes every mortal close by to experience intense heartache.

“Of all the gods, goddesses, dryads, even naiads, you chose her?!” you scream, “And you did it behind my back?!”

“You–how did you find out?”

You slap him, “I am love incarnate, idiot; I know of every shred of love in every heart from here to the fucking Balkans!”

Homelander holds his jaw, wincing at the pain, “Yeah, so? I’m a god, I can have whoever I want, whenever I want, and right now, that’s not you.”

“Oh, so that’s how it is?” you speak, voice distorting, “Fine, then, let’s see how long you last without my love.” Your temple floors move, and he’s thrown out; the attendants all watch in surprise; by the end of the week, the mortals have a new myth to tell, an age of war and the absence of love.

Homelander is fine at first. Yes, without you in his corner, it’s not that much of a difference, at least not as far as he can see, but then he notices that his tributes dwindle to nothing, and his name becomes unspoken. Even the gods seem to disregard him; Stormfront suffers the same, if not worse. Her own temples are luted, dismantled, and the remains used to enhance yours. Her patronage is taken away, and soon, Maeve is the most beloved warrior-deity; Homelander’s popularity dwindles further, and soon the adoration he had is directed to a fucking demi-god. A demi-god, which, if the rumors are to be believed, is your new lover.

So he turns to war; he brings revolution here, destruction there, leaving a trail as Olympus watches this spat from afar.

“Can’t you ask them to stop this?!” Stormfront demands.

“And go back kneeling; I’ll survive this, then they’ll come back to me,” Homelander responds, admittedly; he should have realized sooner that your domain over love meant far more than just romantic love. You remained passive in love, giving and taking from those that deserved - romantic, platonic, self-love, deity devotion - and you took everyone’s love for him; even Stormfront seemed to be growing more and more apathetic towards him. His resolve breaks when he watches Stormfront fade from existence; when he returns to your temple, you’re lying back at your cult statue, a glass of wine in hand. He throws your demi-god lover’s head at your feet, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Two years, nine months, twenty-six days, and five hours,” you mutter; he falls to his knees, helmet placed to his side, an attendant takes you wine, and you sit up. Tilting his head up, “So tell me, what have we learned, John?”

“You’re a petty bitch,” he replies. You smile in response and kiss his forehead. John quite literally feels the love come back.

“Look who’s talking. Did you really have to take his head off?” 

“Yes.” The attendants disperse as Homelander stands with you, his arms wrapped possessively around you, “Since I learned my lesson, I think it’s time I got a reward.”

End Note:

Don't judge me ok, my taste in fictional characters is about as morally sound as russian roulette 💀

Listen, I get that you want to make content specifically for queer men and that’s fine. I also get that a lot of people fetishise queer relationships. But you can’t just say “She/Her, She/They, Females DNI”. I’m not even femme-aligned, but that’s honestly pretty misogynistic. It’s one thing to write stuff for a specific gender, but it’s another to intentionally exclude another group. You could instead just clarify “this is for male readers” instead. Same message, less sexist.

Hey!! Anon I get what you mean but you do know that most females that read male reader fetishize men? Like I won’t know if an actually female read this but it’s pretty common to see these things especially in male reader fanfic. Male reader fanfics are intend for the male readers or even trans readers. I get where your coming from but if you calling me misogynistic for simply excluding the female population of readers from reading my oneshot then maybe you should set your prosperities straight. But then saying “this is for male readers” won’t stop females either way but even my message won’t stop it but it makes male readers comfort with that message. So if you please understand where I’m coming from I would like to peacefully end this conversation. It was very lovely to talk to you. :)