#bunni drabble

[ghoulbunni]

brian moser x psychiatrist fem!reader

tags 🔪⋆.*:･ֶָ֢ explicit sexual content, 18+, kidnapping, acrotomophilia, sexually charged dismemberment (you survive but he takes a piece of you), horrorporn, medical kink, possessive behavior, body worship

You're a psychiatrist who works at the same hospital as Dr. "Rudy Cooper". And though Brian doesn't really like you, he is oddly obsessed with you. Maybe because you know he's somehow a fake, though you just can't say how, and don't fully realize how deadly a fraud he really is until it's too late. Not even after a masked man kidnaps you, and only lets you free after taking one of your legs.

Suddenly that odd, handsome prosthetist you work with is all kinds of helpful in crafting and personally fitting you with a new one. And somehow, even though he's helping you, it feels like he's fucking with you. Getting inside your head.

note: i gave you a surname because i hate 'yn ln' so you are officially known as Dr. Rose

chapter 1: no more coffee

No one else seems to see it but you. But there’s something so haunted about the new, handsome prosthetist you work with at Mercy Hospital; Rudy Cooper.

“Please,” he’d said when you first met him, dark eyes shining bright, “Call me Rudy.”

You must be the only person in the world who doesn’t trust him.

For one thing, his smile isn’t genuine. His gaze so often creased with an affable curve, yet their bedrocks are always dull and black. Cold. Unfeeling. Not at all matching that attractive, fake smile plastered so easily on his face.

He’s hiding something. 

At least, you suspect he is.

Maybe you think this because of your background in psychiatry; his depthless gaze ticking so many boxes for potential sociopathy. Not that that is inherently a bad thing, but…

No, it isn't just that. Some instinct in you insists that there's more, but whenever you think you have a grasp on it, it slips right out through the door. Leaving you thinking you must just be paranoid. Suspicious about nothing.

It's probably nothing.

But, still…

Something about him–nothing, apparently–it puts you on edge, even so. 

That nothing about him. It seems, somehow, to wear the rest of him like a skin. Makes him feel like a shadow pretending so well to be human. Like he’s hiding something in plain sight–something only you appear disquieted enough to see. And whatever he needs so much to hide, to bury some place so deep beneath this handsome charade, so masterfully that no one would ever think to peel it back and discover what was hiding underneath…

Something about that puts you on edge. Something about him does. Which is, of course, crazy–he's perfectly charming and everyone you work with loves him, all of his patients adore him. You're the only one whose thoughts twist up at the mere mention of his name or glance in his direction.

It really shouldn’t bother you as much as it’s started to. Maybe you’re developing some sort of complex. I mean, plenty of your patients are hiding things. Masking. Pretending. It’s human nature to bury the aspects of ourselves we don’t want others to see. But none of your patients do so quite as convincingly as he. None of them make you question yourself like he does.

Maybe you’re on edge for absolutely no reason.

You don’t remember when he started bringing you coffee almost every morning.

It had seemed so harmless at first. 

What are you talking about–it is harmless. It’s coffee. And he’s always so nice when he brings it.

But.

Still.

Something about him…

To be honest, and if we’re overlooking the whole ‘you’re being paranoid’ thing…

It’s almost like he knows you suspect him of something. 

Like he’s trying to ‘win’ you over. 

Like your suspicious nature’s a challenge. One that he and all his mastery of playing people must beat. Either due to whatever he was seemingly hiding, in and of itself, or because it was merely a game to him; a game that he must win. Simply to prove that he could, that he will. That nothing–not even your wary, questioning nature–could stop him from championing.

Paranoid or no, one thing was certain; you’re sick of him gallivanting around your office all the time, being so friendly. And yes, you’re fully aware that makes you some kind of an asshole, seeing as how he’s done absolutely nothing to earn your distaste. But you have enough to worry about in life to also be constantly questioning just what the fuck this loveable, good-looking colleague could be hiding beneath all that seems faked.

This is why you’ve decided to put an end to it, regardless of whether that makes you an ‘asshole’ or no.

No more friendly outings to lunch together, no quick stops to the cafeteria or employee lounge. No more stopping by your psychiatry office unannounced, no more gossiping about the higher-ups. And definitely no more coffee.

He stops by your office again, as he so often does since he started working here a mere few months ago. He was the talk of Mercy Hospital for a while–that young, yet extremely talented prosthetist–with such a promising career, and did you hear that he’s single?

Most people thought that was a good thing, but you just saw a red flag, even if it was the same sort of flag you saw in you, being single yourself. Because why is someone as dashing and accomplished as he still on the market? He was certainly flirty enough to have someone on his arm, and yet the only person he ever bothered was you, and he never once asked you out. If he had, you could have turned him down already. It makes what you’re going to do this morning so much more awkward when you don’t have an aversion to romance as your scapegoat for sending him out. ‘You just give me a weird, creepy, somewhat… ‘I don’t even know what to call this but you seem like you’re hiding something’ vibe’ doesn’t exactly ease off the tongue sounding right.

Sunlight dazzles in through the small, bay window of your psychiatry office, lightly warming your chestnut desk, and… yep. Here he comes. You hear his footsteps drawing, and then he pops into your opened doorway like a handsomely budding rose.

He flashes that smile that wins everyone other than you over, though you’ll admit it at least speeds your pulse. You’re not blind, after all.

Speaking of roses.

“Dr. Rose,” he kindly greets, far too chipper for this early in the morning. Two coffees in his elegant hands, of course, and you ignore the pang of guilt that raps upon the walls of your heart.

It’s better this way. He can stop wasting his time pretending to be something he’s not, buying you coffee, and you can stop questioning his seemingly innocuous and nothing but friendly motives in a fit of rising paranoia. Win-win.

With it still being early enough for this uncaffeinated version of you to feel like a walking corpse, the little smile you offer in return across your desk feels forced. 

Guess he isn’t the only one masking things this morning.

“Dr. Cooper,” you begin, and see his handsome smile falter.

“Uh oh,” he muses, lips pursed as he lingers in the door. “This can’t be good.”

He reads you so well. 

Too well. 

He’s a prosthetist, he’s not in psychology, so why is he better at unspooling people’s minds than even you are?

You stuff that into the column of reasons for why you’re justified to end things like this.

“We should talk.”

He quirks a brow. Leans one shoulder against the doorway; white lab coat stretched taut across the bridge of him. “Why do I feel like you’re breaking up with me?”

When that inexplicably warms your face, he kindly laughs.

“Relax, doctor,” he needles with a grin, “I’m just kidding.” His expression falls more grim. “But, seriously… what did you wanna talk about?”

You sigh. Feeling even more like an asshole than you have all morning anxiously reenacting this awkward encounter over and over in your mind.

Just say it just as you rehearsed it. It’s not that hard.

“You really don’t need to keep bringing me coffee every morning.”

That is not how you rehearsed it–you were supposed to say to never stop by your office again unless it’s for a professional reason! You’re already fucking this up!

His face dons the lightest, speculative frown. “I know, but…” He offers the smallest shrug from his casual slouch. “I like to. And I don’t mind. You’re like a zombie without it, so I’m just doing my part in keeping my colleagues in line…” 

He laughs at whatever your constricted face is doing.

“It’s really not a big deal,” he assures. “I buy Gus in Housekeeping one, too. Black with a dash of irish cream. I don’t mind.”

Guilt creeps its spiderlegs over your mind. You really are an asshole. But you’re not backing out of this. You’ve been amping yourself up enough to actually go through with it for quite a while.

“Look…” you begin, and see his brows furrow. Rubbing one wrist sheepishly beneath your desk as you add, “I really appreciate the, um… The…”

A little smile creeps upon his face the longer he watches you floundering like the world’s most awkward, dying fish.

“The coffee?” he asks, and you’re forced to suppress how your ears heat up.

“Yes,” you say, more succinctly; adopting your psychiatrist’s tone. “Yes, the coffee. I appreciate it, and your, um… your friendliness, but…”

He exhales something like a laugh, tilting his head. “So you are breaking up with me.”

“There’s nothing to break up!”

His forehead’s creased at your heightened tone, and you yourself don’t fully know why you’re so defensive, other than for how embarrassing this is. You don’t have a good reason to end your friendship with him. But you’re ending it all the same.

“Look,” you try again, tucking your hair back a bit more tensely than what’s required. Not really meeting his gaze as you say, “I don’t really have time for relationships of any kind outside of work, and that includes fraternizing with colleagues.”

He eyes you for a moment in speculative silence. Seeming puzzled. A brand of suspicious all his own. 

“What’s prompted this?”

You blink a few times at the question. Forced to consider his fluid, unreadable tone. “I beg your pardon?”

His dark eyes drip across your features as though searching for something. Uncharacteristically solemn, though he doesn’t seem sad or anything; he seems…

…You have no idea what he’s thinking. He’s perhaps the only person who comes in here who so effectively closes you off from their thoughts.

Just one more tally in the ‘remove this weirdo from your life’ column.

“I said,” he repeats, quite clearly; eyes never leaving the discomfort of yours. “What prompted this? You ending things?”

He waits while you can’t seem to answer. Impatient enough to add:

“I’ve never hit on you.”

Your face warms up again. “I know that.”

One brow slowly rises. “So is it because of that…? Or–”

Your embarrassment won’t allow you not to cut his line of questioning off.

“Look–this has nothing to do with you personally–” 

Lies.

“–Or with whether or not you’ve hit on me, or…” 

Why is this the most humiliating conversation ever?

You straighten yourself behind your desk. Run your palms flat across the length of your dark, pencil skirt beneath your chestnut desk.

You’re a professional. A decorated, medical journal-published doctor. Act like one.

“Dr. Cooper,” you try again, doing your best to sound calm, though it’s hard with that clever little smile of his this inspires, like he knows it’s all a front.

“Dr. Rose,” he returns, just as cordially.

You swallow your inhibitions. “I’m afraid I don’t have time for any outside fraternization while I’m at work beyond what’s immediately related to my patients and the psychiatry department at large.”

He scoffs at you.

The bastard scoffs at you, before flashing that handsome smile of his as though nothing’s wrong.

“So no more friendly hospital outings or professionally courteous coffees, then,” he wonders casually, “I presume?”

He’s really good at making you feel like an overly-cautious asshole, isn’t he?

“I’m afraid not,” you say, “and it’s nothing personal. I just… need to stay focused on my work. I have a research paper coming up.”

More lies. But what does it matter–he doesn’t know. Though you can’t help but think that those wheels spinning in his mind might suspect so.

If he does, he doesn’t note it. Merely smiles, before pushing up straight from his previous lean against your office doorway.

“Well,” he remarks, “I’d just hate to get in the way of all of that with a harmless, annoyingly friendly gesture.”

Your insides squinch up. “It’s not annoying, I just…”

He waits for you to continue, but you’re not about to tell him what this is all really about. You’ll sound like one of your overly paranoid patients.

He slowly smiles, though it feels performative, like so much else he does. A mask of playing nice. And for a moment, you both just watch each other like that. Both biting back your hidden thoughts. Yourself, too uncertain and unwilling to press on, while he…

…You still have no idea what he’s still doing here. Nor what he’s thinking at all.

“I’ll gladly pay you back for the coffee,” you say to excuse him, but he just kindly waves the offer off.

“No need, Dr. Rose,” he says, as charming as ever, though it barely scrapes the surface of his eyes. “I was happy to do it. And if you ever need some comradery or caffeine…” His olive gaze slowly creases. “You know where to find me.”

He leaves your coffee on the bookshelf by the door, which lampoons you with even more guilt than you’re already wracked with. Though it’s hard to regret your decision to finally go through with this with the way his parting glance raises every hair on your nape. With how it somehow makes you feel hunted.

[bunny-jpeg]

most think that simon comes home from missions or deployment and just smothers himself in his wife's plush titties and fucks your sweet cunt like a mad man - a desperate dog for completion after so much time apart.

and while that did happen, usually he was dead on his feet when he arrived home. his bag thrown onto the couch, his hands moved without thought to get his boots off - left by the door to be cleaned in the morning. then he trudged upstairs to your shared bedroom. you were close behind asking if he needed anything: food, water, a change of clothes, a bath. he just grunted in response, his eyes heavy. the dark circles were noticeable, even with his mask still on.

he at least was smart enough to get out of his well worn (smelly) military clothes before he face-planted into your bed. the mask taken off and throw somewhere in the room to hopefully be found later. his body curled into himself and he just relaxed for the first time in what felt like years.

you tried to ask him if he needed anything: the heat pad for his back, a face cloth to wipe the eye grease off, a pair of sweatpants, the biscuits that you went out to buy just for him.

he barely lifted his head off his pillow as he looked at you. he said bluntly, but in a gentle tone, "just get into bed with me, dove." he scratched the stubble on his chin, "come to bed and read me one of those cheesy books ya love so much."

everything could wait: a meal, a bath, sex, it could all wait. simon in that moment just needed one thing: to feel you in his arms once more <3

a/n: i can't wait to get my baby back!

[anglbunny]

Virginity ♡ Nagi seishiro

cw: smut mdni, somno, dubcon, virginity loss (reader), deer!reader

⸝⸝♡⸝⸝♡

“Fuck… doll, you’re so warm.. Can’t believe you were gonna keep this from me..” nagi groaned, your panties pushed aside only for him to slip his cock in and snap it back, so the wet fabric covered nagi’s cock which slowly slid inside of your warm virgin cunt. You were just sucking him in, all while being asleep. 

You came here to spend time with him but you passed out on his bed while he gamed and by the time he turned off his switch, it was well past midnight. He couldn’t sleep even if he tried, not when his pretty little best friend was all sprawled out for him. 

His tip throbbed around your entrance, every vein and curve getting swallowed by your warmth. His head dropped onto your shoulder, voice mumbling filthy things while you stirred in your sleep. Both his hands cupped your boobs over your oversized shirt, large hands dangerously tight around it, squeezing them so hard, it hurt. 

You whined when he bottomed out, a low moan escaping his throat knowing he finally, finally took his best friend’s virginity. He’d been dying for this moment. He could feel your body trembling beneath him. Externally and internally. His thumb circled your clit to ease you, and your tight cunt; lips trailing down your collar bones, watching your mouth hang open, eyes shut tightly. 

‘Wonder who she’s dreaming about’ nagi thought at the sound of your desperate sleepy moans, he moved back, pulling out almost all the way and that’s what pushed you to wake up, you groaned, the throb between your legs seemed too real to be a dream, and you were correct because when you opened your eyes, you were met with your best friend, slowly thrusting inside of you, your eyes widened, hands flying to his chest, “n-nagi what’re yo–” 

“Shhh, just breathe, baby, the painful part is almost over” he lazily grinned, speeding up. There was no use in fighting him back with strength, he was far bigger, far stronger than you. His pace wasn’t too fast but he was brutal, rough, especially considering his monster cock, you swore he was tearing you apart every time he sunk back down into you. You cried, nails digging into him. All you were met with were his soft coos and needy whimpers of your name. 

At some point, you weren’t even aware of what was happening, you were too far gone, too far drunk on nagi’s fat length. 

TL: @samm1e13 @demiitria @syleepy @chaoslibra @bontenxo @pinkymangacaps @riinniies @samthesimp1 @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cookiesandcreammy @rinniebinniebay @ravenbc @kamelika @luvsymai @werfiedeii @mikemsmm @silverwings920 @cyberheartrebel @arwawawa2 @yanderebluelockfan @valexqpt @bigclownshoes @rinniewinnie787 @satorella @mihyas-dieehefrau

A/n: idk what to write, reqs r so overwhelming

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

[Masterlist]

[rawjutsu]

chapter six.

pairing: snow leopard hybrid!gojo x bunny hybrid!femreader

keep up here

the air was still—too still—and yet somehow simmering at the same time. a blackout had rolled across tokyo just as a thunderstorm began to loom, swallowing the city in heat and silence.

which left you with two options: suffer through the suffocating humidity in silence, no a/c, no fans, and zero distractions… or open the windows and risk letting the rain in.

typical tokyo summer.

work had sent you home early, and with the restaurant closed until the power returned, you were looking at at least two days of waiting it out. alone.

satoru, of course, had been adamant about escaping to a motel first thing the next morning, blackout be damned.

“bunny, i really don’t think being stranded in a dark, sweaty apartment is ideal—especially not for me,” he’d said, grinning like he thought this was cute. “c’monnn, don’t tell me you’re scared of the dark?”

you'd rolled your eyes and muttered something about how mopping up rainwater every thirty minutes wasn’t your idea of a chill night.

but he wouldn’t let it go. he insisted it wasn’t safe to stick around. that his rut wasn’t going to be considerate enough to wait for the weather to pass.

“i don’t get it,” you’d huffed. “does this mean you’re always gonna leave when you’re in rut?” then quieter, your eyes dropping to your fidgeting hands— “do you not want to…?”

he’d laughed too quickly, like it was obvious.

“oh, little bunny, trust me—i want to fuck you.”

then he’d shrugged, tone going lazy in that annoying way it always did when he was trying to seem unbothered.

“not that i’m saying i wanna lay you down on a bed of roses and recite haikus or anything, but i also don’t think the first time should be while i’m literally holding back from fucking my entire lineage into you.”

you’d rolled your eyes again, trying—and failing—to ignore the heat that bloomed in your stomach.

“don’t be so dramatic.”

but satoru just shrugged, all smug confidence and unreadable glances, like ‘you’ll see.’ like ‘good luck surviving that decision, babe.’

neither of you had brought it up again. not the almosts. not the nearlys. not the fact that you'd been teetering on the edge of something real for weeks now.

since last night, you’d kept your distance. shared the occasional kiss—soft, chaste, like he was scared you’d shatter. and you hated it. hated how even those gentle touches had you blushing like a middle schooler, legs weak from something as simple as his thumb brushing your cheek.

so now here you were, pacing the apartment and lining the windowsills with towels, sweating through your tank top and underwear, praying the storm wouldn’t hit as hard as the forecast promised.

half the windows were done and you were mid-cursing the broken fan again when your phone buzzed.

satoru.

you answered flatly.

“what?”

“okay,” he sighed, already sounding annoyed. “you win.”

you blinked.

“huh?”

“i’m coming back. just for the night.”

suspicion bloomed.

“i thought you said that was a terrible idea?”

“it is,” he groaned. “i’ve already changed clothes three times in the last hour and it’s not even full rut mode yet. but the power’s out everywhere, the motels are all booked, and honestly? i can’t stop thinking about you being alone in the dark with the windows wide open like you’re inviting every pervert in tokyo to come say hi.”

you rolled your eyes, but a weird little flutter kicked up in your chest.

“i’m serious,” he said, quieter now. “i know i should stay away. but i can’t focus. i can’t sleep. i just… i need to know you’re okay.”

your stomach flipped. you clenched the phone tighter against your ear.

“…just for the night?” you asked, even though you already knew the answer.

“just for the night,” he promised. then added, way too smug, “unless you start begging again.”

you scoffed.

“you’re such a whore.”

“your whore,” he shot back. “be there in ten.”

you hung up, heartbeat obnoxiously loud in your ears.

so much for waiting it out in peace.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

the night dragged.

trying to sleep was a joke. you were hot and sticky, your sheets clinging to you like a second skin. the breeze from the cracked window barely touched you, but it kept knocking your blinds against the sill like it was mocking you.

you groaned, flat on your back, staring into the dark ceiling. every inch of you buzzed.

was satoru asleep?

probably not. he hadn’t even let you near him when he arrived, mumbling something about boundaries and trying to be responsible while looking like he was two seconds from chewing through drywall.

screw it.

you threw off your blanket and padded barefoot to his door, knocking once, then wincing.

“satoru?”

silence.

you sighed.

“i know you told me to stay in my room, but the rain won’t let me sleep, and if i close the windows, it’s too hot, and—ugh.”

still nothing.

then the floor creaked.

the door swung open.

satoru stood there, all six-foot-something of sweat-slick, grumpy snow leopard hybrid, white hair damp, blue eyes narrowed like he’d just been yanked out of a dream. a muscle ticked in his jaw.

“and how exactly do you think i’m supposed to help?”

you offered a sheepish smile.

“can i sleep with you?”

satoru blinked once.

“no.”

“please? i promise i won’t do anything. it’s just—it’d be better if i had someone to cuddle.”

he dragged a hand down his face like he was holding himself back from screaming into the void.

“you really are testing me, you know that?”

you grinned.

he sighed and stepped aside.

“fine. but you keep your hands to yourself. no cuddling. i’m putting a pillow between us.”

“i’ll take what i can get.”

his room was cooler, the big tree outside the window blocking the worst of the storm’s breeze. the occasional crack of thunder rattled the glass, but otherwise, it was peaceful. you hadn’t really gotten a good look at his room before—last time, things had gotten a little… feral.

there was a queen bed, way too much space for two people pretending not to be in love.

satoru chucked a body pillow between you and flopped onto his side with a grunt. you climbed in beside him, suddenly way too aware of the last time you were here, of how different things had been.

you curled into the comforter, nose brushing the pillow. it smelled like him—sandalwood and citrus, and something sharper beneath. something him.

your body exhaled, like it finally felt safe.

and you couldn’t stop staring at him.

he was beautiful. stupidly beautiful.

from the other side of the pillow wall, satoru cracked one eye open and smirked.

“thought you came here to sleep, not stare at me like a creep.”

you flushed.

“i just haven’t really seen you up close like this.”

“you have, bun. very recently.”

“that was different,” you mumbled. “i wasn’t exactly focused on your face.”

he stretched, arm flopping above his head, smug grin pulling at his lips.

“yeah, guess there were more pressing matters.”

you giggled and kicked his leg under the covers, then burrowed deeper into the comforter.

“i’m going to sleep. try not to hump my leg in your sleep, perv.”

satoru looks deeply unamused. “goodnight, bunny.” ⊹ ࣪ ˖

you wake slowly, barely conscious at first—just heavy limbs and hazy heat. but there’s weight on you. arms. strong ones. a thick arm banded tight around your waist, another draped lazily over your belly, fingers twitching against the hem of your sleep shirt. his leg's hooked between yours, locking you in place like a puzzle piece he refuses to let go of.

it’s so warm, too warm, but you don’t want to move. not yet.

your eyes flutter open, groggy and unfocused, and it takes a second to process what’s happening.

satoru.

you glance down, blinking away sleep. yeah. definitely him. white hair messily flopped over your shoulder, face buried in the curve of your neck, and—

oh.

you feel it now. pressed right up against your lower back, hot and hard. his cock, thick and twitching beneath his sweats.

your breath hitches. “satoru,” you whisper, voice barely audible.

he doesn’t respond, not really—just breathes a little harder, the heat of it gusting across the nape of your neck. and then he pulls you in tighter. impossibly close. like his body’s trying to melt into yours.

your brain starts short-circuiting. you should wake him up. you should absolutely wake him up.

right?

he’s not in rut... right?

your heart’s pounding now, but you stay still, caught between logic and the way it feels to be held like this. his chest is firm against your back. his scent—warm, woodsy, a little smoky from whatever cologne he wore yesterday—fills your lungs and scrambles your thoughts.

it feels weirdly intimate. soft, even. you like it.

...maybe you stay. just a little longer.

you shift slightly, trying to get more comfortable—and that’s when he freezes.

muscles tense. breath stalls. his cock twitches hard against your ass.

shit.

“guess that pillow didn’t work,” satoru mumbles, voice low and wrecked, muffled against your skin.

your heart jumps.

you breathe out a quiet, awkward laugh. “no. it didn’t.”

there’s a beat of silence. his breathing’s different now—heavier, ragged. you try to turn to look at him, but his arms are like iron. you push again, squirming a little, but he doesn’t budge.

and then you feel it—his cock, growing impossibly harder, pressed directly into you. your whole body tenses as your ears twitch involuntarily. your instincts are screaming something’s changed.

“maybe i should go,” you whisper, even though it comes out way too breathy to be convincing.

but you don’t get the chance to move.

in one fast, fluid motion, he flips you onto your back. the air leaves your lungs as he looms over you, eyes locking onto yours.

your breath catches.

his cheeks are flushed—deep red blooming across his nose, up to the tips of his ears. but it’s his eyes that truly scare you: pupils blown, glassy, high off of something that isn’t sleep. it’s rut. you know it now. something feral is crawling behind his gaze.

“fuck,” he breathes, like he’s never seen anything so good in his life.

your hands go to his hair on instinct—scratching lightly behind his ears like you always do. you don’t even think about it. just trying to soothe.

and he starts to purr.

not softly, either. a deep, guttural vibration from his chest that reverberates straight through your ribs. he leans into your touch like a cat in sunlight, eyes fluttering shut, nose nuzzling your palm. it’s... weirdly precious. like this dangerous, overpowered predator just turned into your oversized housecat.

he’s not in full rut, you think. he can still be gentle. you can still leave.

so you try. carefully. wiggling your leg out from under his. but your thigh brushes against his cock and—

his eyes snap open.

and they’re different.

sharper. dilated. animal.

his claws dig into your waist, just shy of drawing blood, and you feel a shudder roll through you.

“satoru,” you whisper, panic rising in your throat. “i should go.”

you push against his chest, but it’s like trying to move a boulder. your muscles barely flex before he growls—a low, threatening sound—and pounces.

suddenly he’s on top of you, legs pinning yours, hands slamming your wrists into the mattress. his mouth brushes the skin of your neck, and your breath stops.

he doesn’t kiss.

he bites.

hard.

his canines sink into the crook of your neck, sharp and possessive, and you cry out, your back arching. the pain is blinding, white-hot, but he licks over the wound almost tenderly—tongue rough like sandpaper as he soothes it.

“should’ve left,” he murmurs darkly. “too late now. you’re gonna let me fuck you.”

your brain short-circuits. your breath catches.

heat floods your belly like a dam breaking.

“that’s probably what you wanted, anyway,” he grins lazily, eyes hooded. “bet you planned this. snuck into my bed all soft and desperate... just waiting for me to break.”

“no— i—”

but you don’t get to finish the sentence before he ruts his hips down hard.

you moan, shameless and loud, feeling the thick length of his cock drag against your soaked panties.

his grin spreads, predatory and all-consuming.

“see? can’t tell me this cute little bunny doesn’t want my cock stretching her open.”

you whimper, trapped somewhere between terror and arousal. this wasn’t supposed to happen. not like this. but your body doesn’t seem to care—your pussy’s already throbbing, clenching on nothing.

“satoru…” you plead, voice trembling. “i… i don’t know if i can—”

“you will,” he purrs, low and slow, licking over your neck again. “you’ll take every inch. every drop. because that’s what good little bunnies do, yeah? let themselves get bred by the strongest.”

his claws shred your clothes in one swipe. you gasp as cool air hits your skin, but his touch is already replacing it, dragging calloused fingers down your side like he’s memorizing you.

“all mine,” he whispers. “to fuck. to fill.”

the need to run fizzles and dies. your fear is still there—buzzing at the edge of your awareness—but it’s drowned by the way he looks at you. possessive. reverent. starving.

then he shifts.

kneels beside your head.

he’s huge.

the size of him is fucking inhuman. long, thick, barbed along the ridge of the shaft, designed to lock in and stay there.

you’re squirming now, hips trying to rock up, but he pins you with a snarl.

“you move again,” he hisses, voice trembling with restraint, “and i’ll knot you and fuck you until you can’t walk.”

you freeze.

and you realize where this is going as his cock brushes against your lips.

the scent hits you first—sharp, musky, addictive. your mouth waters before you even process it.

you glance up.

he’s watching you like a god demanding worship.

you open your mouth.

he groans, deep and shaky, as his cock slides over your tongue. thick. heavy. veins pulsing against your lips. he doesn’t wait—his hips roll forward and you gag slightly, your throat resisting the sudden intrusion.

but you don’t stop. you can’t. you let him in deeper until your nose hits the fur at his pelvis, tongue flicking, jaw straining, spit pooling fast.

“fuck, that’s it,” he growls, claws tangling in your hair. “just like that. take it.”

he sets a pace that’s brutal from the start—thrusting into your mouth like he owns it. like he needs it. your vision blurs, tears spilling freely as your throat stretches to accommodate his size.

he’s moaning now, openly. filthy, broken sounds.

“look at you,” he pants. “fucking perfect. made to take me.”

his hand dips between your legs, fingers finding your clit and rubbing fast, messy circles. your hips jerk. you whine around his cock.

“get nice and wet for me,” he grins. “i’m gonna ruin this pussy next.”

his thrusts grow erratic. sloppier. you can feel it—he’s close. his cock throbs against your tongue, thick spurts of precum hitting the back of your throat.

with one final thrust, he slams into your mouth and groans long and deep, spilling hot down your throat. you swallow automatically, tears still tracking down your cheeks as you try to keep up.

he pants above you, cock twitching as he pulls out, dragging wetness down your chin.

but he’s not done.

not even close.

he flips you onto your hands and knees, claws gripping your hips like handles. you’re soaked—pussy glistening, begging—and when he sinks in, it’s all instinct.

no prep.

just thick cock stretching you open, forcing a scream from your throat.

“mine,” he growls. “this pussy belongs to me.”

you can only sob out a yes, voice broken by pleasure. he fucks you hard, hips snapping forward with punishing force. you’re dizzy, eyes rolling, brain gone static from how good it feels.

“take it,” he pants. “fucking take it.”

his hands find your ears. tug.

hard.

you yelp, body spasming as your cunt clenches hard around him. pain. pleasure. sensory overload.

“you like that, don’t you?” he sneers. “like being my little fuck toy.”

your body agrees before your brain can. you’re pushing back against him now, desperate, hungry for more.

“i’ll breed you,” he growls. “make you mine. make this body only ever fit me.”

“yes,” you cry, frantic now. “please, satoru, please!”

your walls clench uncontrollably around him, pulsing in time with his brutal thrusts. your breath hitches, high and frantic, as his pace speeds up—merciless, primal, like he’s desperate to mark you with everything he has. his lips press against your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just hard enough to leave a sharp sting.

“mine,” he snarls, teeth bared in a feral grin, voice trembling with raw need. “all mine, bunny. you’re my fucking prey.”

your ears twitch, twitching from the tug on your fur, sharp claws grabbing your bunny ears and pulling hard, making you yelp. the pain is fierce, electric, and somehow it only makes the pleasure spike higher, fracturing your brain with every cruel tug.

the overstimulation hits like a tidal wave—your vision blurs, your muscles spasm uncontrollably, and you scream out, loud and desperate, your body trembling beneath him. his hips slam into you again and again, dragging you over the edge and back with ruthless precision.

he leans in, spitting into your open mouth before kissing you like he wants to crawl inside your lungs. and then he’s slamming in harder, deeper, until your thighs shake.

“i’m cumming—fuck, i’m gonna fill you—”

you feel him twitch inside you, his release building, the knot growing and locking you together like a shackle you never want to escape. his growls turn into ragged roars as he spills into you, filling you up completely, marking you with every drop.

but he’s not done.

even as his body shudders in release, he doesn’t pull out. instead, he collapses over you, heavy and possessive, claws still digging into your skin as his heated breath ghosts over your ear.

his voice drops to a low, dangerous rumble. “you’re mine, bunny. every inch of you belongs to me now.”

his hands move slower now, tracing possessive patterns over your skin, claws dragging gently but firmly along your sides, over your hips, reminding you with every touch that you’re his. his scent wraps around you like a living thing, thick and intoxicating, marking you as his.

he nuzzles your neck, teeth grazing softly, licking the sting he just gave you. his tail flicks around your waist, tightening possessively. you shiver, caught between pain and warmth, his wildness still thrumming through his every touch.

“good girl,” he murmurs, voice rough but softening just enough to make your heart pound. “you took it all like a fucking champ.” 

but you’re not listening, not really. your head’s spinning. you’re full—too full—but it’s not enough. not even close. his knot swells inside you, locking in place with a wet, squelching pop, and the stretch is unbearable—delicious—perfect.

and something inside you shifts.

it howls.

your instincts scream at you to move, to breed. and suddenly, you’re clawing at the sheets, hips grinding back against his cock like your body’s acting on its own.

“f-fuck,” you choke. “it’s not— i need more, i need— satoru, i need it deeper, need—”

he groans, pressed against your back, struggling to catch his breath. “you’ve got my knot, baby—‘s all the way inside. you’re locked.”

“then move,” you snarl—voice wrecked and needy. “i can take it, i want it—want you to break me—”

you twist beneath him, ears twitching, hips jerking against his like you’re trying to drag his cock even deeper. the movement sends a jolt through both of you—your pussy clenches, his knot throbs, and a feral snarl bursts from his throat.

“fuck,” he gasps, voice wrecked. “you’re—shit—”

you slam your hips back again and again, frantic, bouncing against the stretch. his cum leaks from your cunt around the base of his cock, soaking both your thighs, but your pussy just clenches harder.

you bite his shoulder.

hard.

hard enough to draw blood.

his roar rattles the walls.

that’s when it happens.

satoru—who’s been in control this whole time, all teeth and rut and possessive growls—loses it. you finally overwhelm him. his body jerks. his claws tear into the mattress. his knot pulses again and again as your cunt milks him, sucks him dry.

“holy fuck— you’re gonna kill me,” he pants, voice breaking, “—fuckin’— you’re milking me—!”

“i want it,” you sob, nails dragging down his back. “give me everything— fill me, fuck me— satoru please, i can’t— i can’t stop—!”

his hips stutter, locked against you, but your grinding won’t stop. your biological instincts have hijacked your body—you’re desperate, soaked, sobbing—clawing for stimulation, for completion.

“i can feel it,” you gasp. “feel it breeding me—”

his cock jerks violently, and suddenly he’s cumming again. no warning, no buildup—just another hot, overwhelming flood. you swear you can feel it in your womb, sticky and endless, and you cry out as your orgasm crashes through you again, harder than the last.

your ears twitch violently. your whole body seizes.

and then—

you flip him.

your strength is nothing compared to his, but he’s too wrecked, too overstimulated, and you scramble on top like an animal. knot still buried. pussy fluttering. sweat-slick and trembling and possessed.

“satoru,” you pant, straddling his hips, hands on his chest. “don’t stop. don’t you fucking dare.”

his eyes are glassy, pupils blown, mouth slack.

but he still growls. “greedy little bunny—”

you slam your hips down, grinding your cunt against the knot lodged inside you.

his eyes roll back.

“you wanna breed me?” you whisper, voice shaking. “then breed me. fuck me until you can’t breathe. fill me ‘til i’m pregnant with your kits.”

“fuck—”

he surges up, grabs your throat, and kisses you like he’s dying.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

and that’s how it continues for about a week.

you’re not technically in heat —not really—but something in your body doesn’t care. some dumb, bunny instinct still has you grinding against him in your sleep, nuzzling at his neck until his rut takes over again and he’s flipping you onto your stomach and stuffing you full all over again.

you swear you’ve forgotten what it feels like to not be bred.

your pussy's raw. sore. at some point you physically can’t take it anymore, so you shift to blowing him on your hands and knees —lips puffy, throat ruined, ears twitching as you moan around the thick weight of him because you're still needy and he’s still in rut.

satoru, for his part, is equally feral—grabbing at your ears, bucking into your mouth with glassy eyes and cum-drunk groans.

by day five, you’ve both stopped pretending to be normal.

by day seven?

you finally come back to yourselves.

you’re curled in his bed, limbs tangled, skin flushed and sticky with the fading scent of rut and everything in between.

your ears twitch as you blink up at him, chin resting on his chest. he’s warm under your cheek, heartbeat slow, lazy fingers tracing idle shapes on your thigh.

satoru groans softly, voice rough with sleep and exhaustion. “i think i almost died.”

you snort. “you almost killed me.”

“yeah, well,” he mutters, tilting his head to nose at your temple, “it’s your fault for sneaking into my bed smelling like a walking wet dream. bunny pheromones are, like, a war crime.”

“cry about it,” you mumble.

“already did,” he yawns dramatically. “i’ve been crying cum. for days. i’ve never been this dehydrated in my life. my balls are hollow.”

you giggle, face burying into his chest as you shake with laughter. “shut up, you were loving it.”

“i was,” he agrees proudly. “still am. 10/10, would breed again.”

you swat at his stomach, and he catches your wrist lazily, kissing your knuckles. then, more seriously, “...you okay?”

your smile softens.

“yeah,” you say quietly. “i’m good.”

he nods.

you both fall into silence again, the kind that’s comfortable and full of unspoken things. his arms pull you closer, protective and warm, and you nuzzle against his chest with a sleepy sigh.

“...worth it,” you whisper.

satoru hums. “what?”

you lift your head, ears drooping as your eyes meet his. “letting you almost maul me. worth it.”

his grin is slow. sharp. smug.

“i told you,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead like he didn’t just wreck you for a solid week. “strongest dick alive.”

“you’re so annoying,” you mutter—but you’re smiling.

because he’s still here. holding you. whole again.

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

[queenie-the-court-jester]

yandere bunny hybrid x reader

A/n: the Intro was rushed because I got too excited to write the smut. Not proofread 🌺

Tw: noncon turns to dubcon, androgynous breeding kink, little dirty talk, he's a horny bastard. Mommy kink but it can be applied to any gender. Slapping body parts, he has a minor lactation kink. Mdni please!

★you met the little furball while you were out on a evening walk. It was the middle of winter and being cooped up inside the house all day was starting to get a little claustrophobic

★you didn't notice him at first since he blended in with the snow. Stopping mid-walk when you heard a weak little whine coming from behind you. Slowly turning around, you saw a pair of red eyes staring at you from beneath the snow

★approaching them slowly, you could finally see him more clearly. Milky white skin turning a light blue due to hypothermia. He didn't have the strength to run when you picked him up. Patting his head, you headed back home.

★giving him a warm bath and setting him next to the fireplace, you slowly nursed him back to health. He was very reluctant at first, but your touch was too comforting to pull away from. He hasn't felt this safe since he was just a baby bun! He stayed with you nearly the entire winter

★midway he starts to get himself familiar with your home, peeking under furniture and into rooms, he seemed to understand you when you'd ask him questions in English

"what's your name little fella?"

"cotton.."

★eventually you had to let him go back into the wild, just a month before spring arrived. He was reluctant but with enough convincing he finally left. Looking back at you from the forest edge, watching you wave goodbye with that beautiful smile he loves

❣️cotton who goes into heat early because he can't stop thinking of you. Burrying himself in his burrow, humping the air. Nothing is as soft as you and your bed. Nothing can make him feel as safe as your touch does

❣️he shoos any females who wish to mate away. Claiming he already has a mate. Oh he wished you'd come into the forest looking for him, to take care of him again as he fills your tight little hole up with his cum

❣️he spends most of his time shamelessly masturbating to the thought of you. His entire heat cycle has been on loop since he left, so finally gathering the balls he heads back to your cottage. Watching you from a distance, lazily stroking his already sensitive cock.

★just minding your business, you don't notice the certain bunny hybrid approaching slowly. You don't have much time to react before a familiar mop of white hair tackles you to the ground. Desperately humping your clothed sex as he whines and grunts.

"cotton!? What the hell are you doing!?"

"hah- nhg need.. mate.. pretty mate.. need to breed! Ohh!"

★you tried pushing him off, but when did he get so strong!? Pining your arms down and ripping your clothes off, wasting no time in lapping at your genitals. Eating you out like a starved man, sucking and nipping your inner thighs until he's sure you're nice and lubed up

★he carefully pressed the tip in, but he doesn't last long as he slowly sinks deeper into your gummy walls. Letting go of your arms and roughly grabbing your hips, which were sure to bruise later, brutally fucking your brains out. Slapping your chest and privates as he grinds his cock deeper

★he keeps going even after he's ripped multiple orgasms out of you. The pleasure slowly chipping off your resistance. Leaving you a blubbering moaning mess under the bunny. A pool of his cum under where your sexes kept meeting.

★it doesn't matter what gender you are, he's determined to breed you until you're swelling with his children. He couldn't wait to suck and bite your chest once it was swollen with milk!

"gonna be so pretty- mph! So pretty, all swollen 'n fat with my babies.. gonna be a good mate, right? G-gonna give me lots of 'em right? Oh ohhh! Cumming again! 'Yer squeezing all my cum out! Mommy!!"

★let's just say that you should get use to your new roommate husband, because now there's no way of getting rid of him. Ever.

[moechies]

would you mayhaps mind writing more toji x bunny!hybrid reader... perchance...

pretty pleek 🥺

(ALSO I LOVE YOUR WORKS SM AHHH)

cw ❤︎ bunny is a little weird ‘n loves sniffing toji’s fat bawls ;( don’t make fun of her ! toji makin bunny jealous , throatfuckin !!!

you’re a possessive, insatiable, and messy little thing. and although he does truly love every single one of your animalistic traits, it’s definitely something anybody would find out of the ordinary. not like he minds a bit.

₊˚⊹ ❤︎

toji adores the way you pout, eyes growing bleary when he tells you he needs to leave the home for work. it’s not so much him needing to do his job, but at the mention of a ‘she’ twined into one of his sentences, and now it’s the only thing you find yourself focusing on.

he urges you not to cry, hoisting you onto his lap and pressing your hiccuping self into his warm chest before shushing you gently. but you don’t see the ill-intentioned smirk that spreads across his plum lips as he soothes you from above.

“mhm, it’s an overnight mission, s’i won’t be home till tomorrow, bun.”

“a-are you going to sleep with her ? in the same bed ?” you question meekly, and toji lets out an unassuring hum.

toji loves working you up with his words, and bringing you back down with his cock. it’s so much of a game to him, but not to you.

your poor sensitive heart clenches when he offers no sort of affirmation, leaving your little mind to wonder aimlessly. your chest huffs with both frustration and anger at his pauses, quickly attempting to pull off his chest and away from the mean, mean man.

“i-i hate you !”

but no, he doesn’t let you pull off. he holds you down tight, thighs clad against his meatier ones as his stiff cock prods against your warm cunt. “g-get.. away !” you yelp, turning away to avoid the man from seeing the falling tears that leak from your pretty eyes.

“shh, bunny. c’mere.” he chuckles, pressing your resisting chest against his despite your tried efforts, pressing gentle kisses across your face covered with streaky tears. “‘course ‘m not gonna sleep with her, dumb bunny.” you hiccup, refusing to look into him before plopping your cheek against his chest.

“liar . ‘m gonna kill her.” you whisper.

toji chuckles again, petting your hair and soft, fallen ears, pulling them up high to resemble your usual happy persona with perky ears.

“don’t be so naive, bun. ‘m yours, and yer mines. promise, hm ?”

“p-promise ?”

“i do, i promise.” he speaks, humping his bulge against your chubby cunt. you yelp, reaching out for toji’s arms for support. “c’mere. let me make it up to my bunny for bein’ s’mean.”

❤︎ ₊˚⊹

the sun’s glare peeks through the translucent curtains, waking toji from his slumber. he groans, reaching his arm over expectingly, wanting nothing more but to envelop your soft body into his; just to feel his arm fall against soft sheets instead of your skin.

the sudden throbbing ache in between his legs feels much more prominent than before, his thigh twitching at the unfamiliar feeling.

he cracks an eye open, peeking down, and…

he can’t believe his eyes.

you; your insatiable little self, with his boxers tugged barely below his sack, and your little hand pushing back on the base of his cock. your nose is nuzzled against his fat, dewy balls, taking deep inhales of his musky scent. his vision trails down your other arm, leading his sight to your hand in between your soft thighs, erratically pumping two little digits in your chubby pussy while grinding onto a soft, white pillow all at once.

“m—mister… hnnn,”

your nose twitches incessantly, nuzzling the bud impossibly deep against his manhood, little pink tongue even slipping out to get a taste.

your ears flare out to the side of your body, hairs standing, cottontail twitching because he knows you’re just so close, you’re almost there, and your little pouting lips trying their hardest to keep your mewls quiet.

and finally, you let out a content cry, filthing your tiny fingers in thick, creamy cum. your humping comes to a slow, and you finish the job by leaving a long lick of saliva against toji’s cock for one last moment of wonder.

toji can’t help but laugh, scaring the bunny life out of you. you freeze, but he stops moving. it’s just a dream, right ? there’s no way you woke him up.

and just when you’re about to scurry away, clean up your mess and slip back into the sheets as if nothing every happened, there’s a hard tug on your sensitive little ears, one that drags you back towards your boyfriend’s standing cock where you were just a few seconds ago.

did you really think he wouldn’t notice ? poor bunny.

you squeak, his cock is harshly pressed into your warm gaped, mouth, and—

“what a rude bunny. usin’ me t’get that weeping cunny off without somethin’ in return. y’owe me this, hm ?”

₊˚⊹ ❤︎

“y’r so damn messy.”

toji grumbles, fingers threading through your hair, tugging at your ears.

his thighs are covered in your sticky slobber, strings of saliva dripping down his length and falling against his bushy base.

you don’t care. a mess is easy to clean and temporary, but who knows when your owner will leave on a mission, allowing your mouth to be empty for days ?

your cheek bulges with his chub, his pre slipping against the soft flesh of your mouth and leaving a salted flavor against your tongue.

“c’mon, take it deeper.” toji urges, adjusting your little face by your hair so that his pudgy tip lays against your throat.

“bigggg stretch, bunny.” he giggles, watching your eyes widen and hands slap against his meaty thigh when he presses down your unprepared throat, stretching the resistant flesh violently. you gag a multitude of times, mouth leaking uncontrollably as if you’re lubing toji for a smoother process.

“looks like this messy bunny mouth does have some good use f’it, hm ?”

❤︎ ₊˚⊹

[cameronsbabydoll]

I love the fact that rafe treats her like a child. I need a part where she sleeps round rafes house and when she wakes up she walks downstairs in her night clothes and with her teddy and sees all of rafes friends round fr

TOO SOFT FOR HIS WORLD — ᥫ᭡

rafe cameron x bunny!reader

Rafe keeps you tucked away.

Not hidden, exactly—just preserved. Kept soft and sweet and untouched by the rougher parts of his world. His friends know about you, of course, but they don’t see you. Not really.

So when you pad downstairs that morning—rubbing the sleep from your eyes, wearing one of Rafe’s oversized t-shirts, your teddy bear clutched under your arm—you don’t expect to walk into a room full of them.

They go silent.

Kelce has a coffee halfway to his mouth. Topper’s mid-sentence. Some of the other guys are sprawled across the couch, beer bottles on the table even though it’s barely noon.

And then there’s Rafe.

Sprawled in one of the chairs, legs spread, watching you with an expression that shifts fast—from mild surprise to something possessive.

You blink.

They blink back.

And of course Topper makes the mistake of grinning. "Well, well—"

"Not a fucking word."

Rafe’s voice is low, dangerous, and just like that, the moment shatters.

You hesitate, curling in on yourself, but Rafe’s already standing. His hands are on your waist before you can think, steering you away from their gawking stares.

"What did I tell you, angel?" His voice is softer when he speaks to you, but there’s an edge beneath it. "Not down here dressed like this."

You pout, looking up at him. "I didn’t know—"

"I know, baby," he soothes, tucking your hair behind your ear. Then, voice firm, "Back upstairs."

Your fingers tighten around your teddy, but you nod, obediently turning back toward the stairs.

Rafe watches you go, his jaw tight.

And when Topper opens his mouth again, Rafe doesn’t hesitate—he tosses the nearest thing at him.

"I said shut the fuck up."

[cute-sucker]

note: this is an unofficial part 2 of this boxer!rafe and his sweetheart <3

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.

boxer!rafe can't stop thinking about you pregnant, and some would say he got more protective when you did get pregnant.

you weren't showing yet, but he was always keeping a watchful eye on you, protective hand wandering to your midsection.

after the scare you gave him at the games, he watched you all the time, willfully bringing home more food than was needed, feeling willing to come back home when he heard your whines through the phone, and buying you the most beautiful sundresses ever.

sometimes the two of you would spend more time together, looking out the balcony as he smoked a cigarette, and you looked outside with a dazed expression, hand stroking your stomach. he watched the way your nose wrinkled when a trendil of smoke reached your nose.

you made a screwed face, and then looked back at rafe with a pointed look, "i don't like that."

the next day all the cigarettes in your house were gone, and he went back to boxing. it was sweet the way your small proclamation could command him to do anything. sometimes you couldn't help but test it. test how much he loved you, and how willing he was go to. you knew it was bad the way you were acting, but you ached for the attention.

so it was all to plan when you woke up craving a burger.

not just any burger. it needed to be homemade, or even one of the burgers that rafe had made you during your first date. you remember it so clearly, the way his hand scimmed past your back as he helped you chop the cucumbers, a soft hand twirling a tendril of your hair.

it was all in your head, and suddenly you needed the burger with your life. you were pawing at his chest, soft whines leaving your mouth. he woke suddenly, taking a deep inhale of air.

"what's wrong?" he muttered, words slurred with sleep. you couldn't feel but feel bad as you pouted at him. you were wearing a pretty nightgown with a bow at the top. you watched him scan your swollen body.

you were pulling all the routes as you lowered your voice, "i need a burger."

he looked at you incredulously, eyebrows raised putting his rough hand on your shoulder, "right now?"

you frowned, before rubbing your stomach, "yes."

he groaned, falling back to head head first. you bit your tongue to stop giggles from spilling out of your mouth. he was so soft with you now, and you knew that months ago he would never act like this. but you couldn't help but tug at his arm as a grunt fell from his mouth.

"do you really need it, mama?"

now you couldn't stop your smile. you loved it when he called you 'mama,' and you loved the gentle tilt of his mouth when he called you that. and you rested your head back, nodding. finally, he gave an annoyed sigh before getting out of bed.

"goddamn it," he groaned, pulling a cleaner shirt up his head. you rested at his feet watching him put on his clothes. there was something so domestic about the whole scenario. tanyhilll was full of pictures of the two of you, small pieces of the two of you.

finally, as if he realised you were watching him, he scowled looking at you. still in your nightgown with a frenzied look on your face, he seemed to sigh again.

"ah, don't you think you should change?" he murmured, hands skimming over your top. you melted at his touch, practically hopping into his lap with eagerness. he let out a laugh before gently pushing you away, "listen. you gotta change out of that. can't have you looking like that."

you gave him a cheeky smile as if it was the middle of the day instead of three in the morning. somehow you found increasing amounts of energy and rafe was always confused about how you did it all.

"look like what?"

he shook his head, eyes flashing with slight annoyance, "nah. 'm not doing that today. get up bun, 'n go change."

although he sounded demanding you couldn't help but feel your heart drum harder at his words, biting your lip as you pulled on one of his old sweatshirts.

that night you got your burger, and he got you.

please let me know if you'd like to added to the boxer!rafe taglist!!

[justarandomweeb]

Yandere Informant Bunny Boy

MDNI

Warning: Stalking, Murder, Consumption of bodily fluids, Torture

A particular club that deals a lot of dirty work, but those are just rumors right? How can the bunny girl and boys do such illegal acts? They look too… innocent to do such deeds.

Yandere Informant Bunny Boy is the weakest looking out of all the bunny servers in the club, he usually works on the club’s corner bar serving amazing cocktails and spirits. Sweet talking with the patrons once they hit their tipsy state, getting information for the designated client.

Yandere Informant Bunny Boy always leaves the bar for you, personally serving you drinks and entertaining you on the booth. Someone is with you? Well they can go fuck themselves, the other bunny can handle them, not him.

Yandere Informant Bunny Boy puts on a facade of being cutesy and eager, a bundle of energy. He loves it when you drink his personally made drinks, he adds more of his blood special ingredient when the drink isn’t see through. He awfully loses his breath a lot when he’s with you that you probably thought he had asthma.

Yandere Informant Bunny Boy throws a tantrum on the basement of the club with the prisoner, punching them, pouring salt on the wound, electrocuting them. He saw them putting something your drink, a date drug. He gets pissed because nothing but the best will be served for you after a hard day at work.

Yandere Informant Bunny Boy has another bunny coworker to saw the body into chunks and feed it to the guard dogs, some will be used as fertilizer by another bunny, and the rest will be burned to ashes watching it burn with hatred and disgust. Then he goes back to being cutesy and energetic bunny boy who serves drinks in the bar. Your one and only bunny boy.

[zaynes-pookie]

Xavier' Bunny

𝐏𝐚��𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Xavier x Hybride!Bunny!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+, smut, little mean Xavier, calling reader bun or bunny, overstimulation, lot of cum.

𝐀/𝐍: just something that went through my mind...

You hissed has Xavier tugged on your lill tail. “Come on Bun, I know you can do so so much better than that…”. With his hand around your waist and the other one under your thighs, he was making you bounce on his dick like the bunny you were. His cock beating your cervix in a way you’ve never felt before.

“I can’t!” you begged. Your pussy was pulsating and tingling with the number of orgasms you had, juice gushing all around both of your pelvic area and forming a creamy ring around his thick cock. "Xavier…". You wanted to scream, trash, do anything, but with his cock so deep in you that you could feel a bump, all your dumb mind could think was about making it feel you.

“Yes, you can. Cum again and maybe I’ll give it to you. Cum again and I’ll make you a mommy.” A harsher tug on your tail and a deeper thrust from him made you wail and your cunt spasms around him. Squirt flowing on his stomachs and mixing with his cum overflowing your tiny cunt. The warmed of it making you dizzy.

Collapsing, you felt a touch on your long ears. His dick still hard and deep inside of you twitching from the orgasm. “ Xav…” with no thoughts, you nuzzled his neck waiting for the sweet that occurred every time after but, instead, he tugged you away with your ears, a scream coming from you.

“Did you really think we were done. I’ve barely even started, bunny.”

[ghoulbunni]

leland coyle x reader (full fic)

Coyle tips your chin up with the blunt edge of his cattle-prod; its end still warm with the afterglow of electricity.

The leather of his jacket flexes as he braces one heavy boot atop your crumpled chest. The soulless, black lenses of his aviators betraying nothing. 

“Ain’t no use fightin’ it,” he drawls in a thick, hungry purr. And it feels that his eyes stroke down your shape. Taking it all in. Fucking hungry for it. “You're my whore in need’uh judgement, now. Been a bad dog, gone ‘n pissed me off.” 

He sucks a charred drag from his cig, it's ember burned across his lenses.

“Gonna have you pleadin’ fer mercy 'fore I'm done.”

[bunny-jpeg]

simon doesn't have social media - he has a whatsapp to message exactly two types of people: military personnel (outside of their formal channels) and you. it was easier that way to keep everyone in one chat and the app was pretty handy.

you had never seen someone's phone storage be under fifty percent, but he didn't have much on the phone. most of the storage was taken up by the apps already pre-installed and photos - the man loved his photos.

his memory wasn't the best, he had his hunches as to why that was. so when he was home, he always took photos. especially ones of you. you hated when he sent you the worse ones - the time you tripped over your laces on a walk through the park, that time you just devoured your taco during a dinner date.

and all the photos of you asleep. so many photos of you asleep.

simon loved them all because they were photos of you. you didn't have to be all done up with the right angles or lighting. he wanted to remember you - so even when the distance felt large and unbearable. he could remember the times you two spent together. that exact walk in the park, that exact dinner date. a million little moments together, with the promise of a million more.

the whatsapp chat was like a scrapbook of your relationship - every i love you, the shopping lists, the times of returning flights and trains, the memes you sent (and he had no idea what they were meant to be), the pictures of wild flowers he'd take because they reminded him of you. a million messages flowed between you two - hundreds of photos and thousands of i love yous. good mornings in total different time zones, rants about work, the various emojis you sent and simon would respond with proper text. the i miss yous and the i love yous mixed together, yearning for return but keeping the love alive.

it was all mapped out through your frequent text messages.

and while you could map out your entire relationship through your whatsapp chat, there was a certain collection of photos that permeated through the chat. - simon riley didn't have social media. but he did love sending you some nudes.

you told him that he could have a thirst trap instagram which he replied with, "why would i? i don't want anyone else lookin' at what's yours." and for the first time in your entire relationship he used an emoji. the winking face one. <3

a/n: this got away from me- this was originally supposed to be about simon not understanding memes and you being the first to show them to him.... oops.

[bumpen-underbeds]

Having an open use agreement with your bunny hybrid girlfriend, so long as you're in your apartments, you are free game to each other, and you have made good use of that recently. Making use of the way she stands in front of the sink while waiting for a pot to fill, to slink your arms around her waist, resting your chin on her shoulder as you hush her questions with roaming hands.

Pushing her shirt up and cupping one of her breasts as you kiss along her neck, nibbling and sucking little marks into her skin. Feeling how she melts against you when you turn the tap off and slip your other hand down the front of her shorts, slipping your fingers across her folds and gently teasing your way to circling her clit.

You can feel her tail twitch and move as it presses against your stomach, cooing about such a pretty bunny getting caught by such a simple trap.

Laughing as she spreads her legs a little more to let your hand properly work between her thighs, sighing as you feel her slick coat your fingertips as you tease her by dipping just barely inside her before pulling back to circle here entrance, waiting till you hear a little breathy plea of 'please' before sinking two fingers into her.

Letting go of the breast you had been playing with to tilt her chin towards you, kissing her languidly as she moans and shivers through your fingers curling against the sweet spot of her cunt.

Feeling the slick slowly pool in the curve of your palm as you let her grind against your hand, encouraging her to use you palm between kisses, watching as he thighs shake and she arches against you, one of her legs thumping against the floor as she chases a high that you may or may not be keeping just out of reach as you slip your fingers out and hold them up to let her suck the taste of herself off your fingers.

Pulling away and watching as, without your support, she slumps against the sink, looking back at you with big, desperate eyes, adjusting her stance and pulling down her shorts to beg for you to let her cum as she spreads her own folds open and flicks her little cotton tail as if to entice you back into touching her.

[rawjutsu]

chapter five.

pairing: snow leopard hybrid!gojo x bunny hybrid!femreader

keep up here

you wake up sticky.

your furred ears twitch, the soft insides a little too warm. your skin feels too hot, too tight, like you’ve been sweating out something that doesn’t want to leave you. and for a second, you think maybe it was a dream—that your heat hit, but you made it through alone.

but then you move.

and everything aches.

between your legs. in your lower back. your neck, your thighs, the delicate skin beneath your breasts. even your tailbone, where your soft little puff tail flicks involuntarily.

you shift under the blankets and feel the soreness bloom, spreading through you like bruises in the shape of him. satoru. his mouth, his hands, his cock. the way he held you open with a possessive growl low in his throat. the way he looked at you when you begged him not to stop, pupils blown wide and slitted like a predator locked on his prey.

your chest tightens.

the sheets still smell like him—musky and warm and faintly like ozone, that unique wild-laced scent that always seemed to curl behind your sinuses and short-circuit your thoughts.

you drag yourself out of bed, muscles protesting with every step, legs trembling faintly with the leftover echo of instinct. the pads of your feet are sore—probably from all the heat-induced pacing you don’t remember doing. you make your way to the bathroom. there’s a toothbrush already on the counter—his. it’s electric and stupidly expensive-looking. blue, of course. probably one of three he owns, because he’s satoru and he lives like a hot idiot dragon who collects luxury essentials and then loses them immediately.

you stare at it for a beat longer than you should, your ears drooping slightly, then wordlessly reach for yours.

you’re mid-rinse when you hear footsteps.

you freeze, mouth full of mint foam. your ears perk straight up.

then his voice, rough with sleep, from just outside the doorway: “morning.”

you glance at him in the mirror.

he’s shirtless. of course he’s shirtless. hair sticking up like he lost a fight with the pillow. eyes bleary, but still that impossible glacier blue. his spotted tail flicks once behind him, betraying the calm facade. his sweatpants hang low on his hips—too low—and for one stupid second, all you can think about is what it felt like to grind against him yesterday. how he grabbed your waist. how he swore under his breath when you clenched around his fingers.

you spit. rinse. force your face to stay neutral.

but he’s already looking at you.

not just at you—at what you’re wearing. one of his shirts. big and soft and worn at the collar, slipping off your shoulder with every tiny movement. the hem just barely covers the curve of your thighs, your little tail poking out beneath it.

you hadn’t even realized you grabbed it.

he raises a brow, eyes trailing over you slowly, but doesn’t say anything. just reaches for his toothbrush and starts brushing, like this is normal. like the air between you isn’t charged with leftover pheromones and tension, thick enough to choke on.

you leave before you can do something stupid.

you’d think fucking your roommate at your most vulnerable—at the peak of your heat—would make things a little awkward between you.

but it wasn’t.

at first, anyway.

it was just… mental warfare.

not that you two made some silent pact to never talk about it again or anything. you did talk about it. sorta.

“so—um—thanks, you know. for… that.” you blushed furiously, handing him his freshly washed bedsheets (and a couple shirts you stole). okay, maybe you kept one. 

“right…” satoru trailed off, looking like he was debating between jumping out a window or saying something stupid.

he chose the latter.

“so, does this mean you’re like… in love with me or something?”

you scowled and smacked at him while he cackled, baring sharp little canines, dancing out of reach.

“no! i just—” you shrugged lamely, at a total loss. “i don’t know.”

“uh huh, suuure.” satoru made a face like he didn’t believe you for a second, then lifted the folded bedsheets as evidence against you.

you huffed. “oh yeah? what about you, huh? you were awfully quick to offer your services,” you said, aggressively air-quoting “help.”

satoru gasped like you’d just insulted his ancestors. “i was just trying to help my poor little roommate! but sure, let’s villainize the guy who volunteered his dick out of the kindness of his heart.”

“says the guy who literally said if he fucked me, he wouldn’t be able to stop.”

“says the one who begged for my cock or else she’d die,” he shot back, scoffing.

“yeah, well, here i am. alive. guess i didn’t need your magical dick after all,” you said, ears twitching in frustration.

he paused. then grinned. “you think my dick’s magical?”

you groaned, spun on your heel, and stormed off to your room. the door slammed. his laughter echoed down the hall—a rumbling sound low in his chest that made your nose twitch in spite of yourself.

so, yeah. you two talked about it. sorta.

then life just… went on.

you went back to work, finally relaxed, finally not on the verge of spontaneously combusting. your scent glands finally calmed, your mood stopped swinging like a pendulum, and you stopped gnawing at everything that wasn’t nailed down. satoru moved back into his own apartment—said living with nanami was like staying with a grumpy grandma who judged his cereal choices.

one morning, you bumped into the blonde himself in the hallway. he looked you over, head to toe, as if looking for any signs of mauling. then just said, “good.” and walked off.

so things were… normal.

kinda.

except, they weren’t really.

there’d been a few lowkey moments between the two of you lately. stuff that hadn’t really happened before. barely-there things—so small they could’ve meant nothing to anyone else.

but you noticed.

like when satoru’s hand brushed your lower back as he reached past you. not intentional. not not intentional, either. you were just making coffee, standing a little too close, and he leaned in to grab something—his hand lingering just a second too long, his tail curling slightly in interest before he caught himself.

or when your landlord stopped by to lecture you about the electric bill again.

you were both trying not to laugh. and across the room, your eyes met—just for a second. you grinned. he grinned back.

it felt like… something.

or when he came home late from work and tossed you that weird instant ramen you always get. no comment, no explanation—just a lazy underhand throw before he headed to bed. you hadn’t even realized he remembered.

they probably didn’t mean anything.

but you lingered on them anyway.

and in the quiet moments—the ones where your brain had nothing better to do—you kept thinking about him.

about satoru’s desperate eyes when he offered to help. the way you flinched when his rough tongue flicked your clit, sharper and stronger than any human tongue. how he growled into your cunt like he was starved, pinning your hips with brutal strength only a snow leopard hybrid could manage.

the way his veiny hand stroked his cock, fist flying, his cum spilling across your stomach in thick, hot ropes.

he was huge. thick. long. exactly the kind of thing that shouldn’t be stuck in your head mid-shift, but there you were—ringing up a customer while your ears twitched like radar dishes, thighs clenched.

the worst part? you weren’t the only one acting weird.

sure, satoru was still loud and annoying and said unhinged shit daily. but there were moments.

moments where he looked at you too long after a joke. where his smile faltered, jaw tight, whiskers twitching. moments when you’d step out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel and his eyes would drag across you before he forced himself to look away, tail lashing behind him.

you knew he thought about it. there was no way he didn’t.

but what now? just ignore it until the next time your heat hit? or—god forbid—until his rut?

you choked a little on your water at the thought.

because if that was him holding back, you didn’t want to imagine what he’d be like when he completely lost control.

(no matter how badly your stupid brain wanted to.)

you were frustrated. but mostly with yourself.

why were you thinking about this so much?

why did remembering the way he whispered “please” in your ear make your heart race more than the orgasm itself?

…that was the part you didn’t want to unpack.

you yawned as you unlocked the front door to your shared apartment, tossing your keys in the bowl and dropping your bag with a heavy thud. your shift had been long, your feet were killing you, and you were this close to collapsing on the couch when—

“hey,” satoru called from the kitchen. “i’m hungry.”

you blinked, confused. “okay?”

he appeared around the corner, keys in hand. “wanna hit up the convenience store on the corner?”

you groaned, every inch of your body aching at the thought of going back out. “satoru, i just got home and it’s almost midnight. can’t you go yourself?”

but he just waved you off, grabbed your arm, and tugged you out the door before you could argue.

the streets were quiet. your footsteps tapped against the cracked pavement while the neon sign of the shop ahead buzzed like a dying cicada.

satoru walked close—closer than usual. your hands kept brushing. your nose twitched, ears flicking in his direction, catching the faint scent of unease on him.

“so like… i’ve been meaning to ask,” he said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

your ears perked. “ask what?”

he rubbed the back of his neck, eyes locked on the flickering sign. “about the whole… heat thing. you doing okay?”

you nodded a little too quickly. but he didn’t drop it—just kept staring, unreadable.

“i just—i dunno,” he muttered. “i feel like maybe we should talk about it. not in, like, a fighting way. i just... i don’t want you thinking i took advantage of you.”

your heart stuttered. you bit your lip, caught off guard by how genuinely serious he sounded.

“i guess i made it seem that way, huh?” you mumbled. you chewed on the inside of your cheek before adding, “you didn’t take advantage, satoru. you really did help me. i don’t even know what the hell was going on with my body, but i wasn’t lying when i said it freaked out when you weren’t around.”

you looked down at the concrete, too flustered to meet his eyes.

“but when you… helped... it felt like i wasn’t on fire anymore. like, for the first time, i could breathe.”

when you finally looked up, he was smiling softly. no teasing. just something raw and sweet. his tail curled slightly around his leg.

“i meant what i said too,” he murmured. “that it was hell being away from you.”

you stopped walking, startled, and satoru did too. you stared at each other under the glow of the flickering convenience store lights.

“satoru…” you started.

but before the words could leave your mouth, a hand landed on your shoulder. and it wasn’t his.

“oh hey, if it isn’t my favorite little bunny waitress.”

you jumped, your ears flattening instinctively, turning quickly. satoru went rigid beside you—shoulders tight.

the guy was a regular at the sushi place—something like fuchi or oro or tochi? you couldn’t remember. big, broad-shouldered grizzly hybrid with choppy black hair and a scar that ran down his lip. scary as hell at first, but you’d gotten used to his… vibe after serving him so many times.

“oh, hi,” you said, giving him a polite bow.

“nice seeing you outta that uniform,” he said, eyes dragging over you like he owned the sidewalk. “though i gotta say, that little skirt you wear’s the highlight of my night.”

you laughed lighly. “pretty sure the highlight of your night is our happy hour specials.”

he snorted. “can’t argue there. see you around.”

he walked off, and just like that, he was gone.

you barely thought about him again as you turned to ask satoru what snack he wanted—

only to find him staring at you. hard. blank-faced. his tail was twitching, rapid and sharp.

the back of your neck prickled. you tried to lighten the mood. “you good?”

“peachy,” he said, tight smile on his face. “let’s get our stuff and go.”

he walked into the store without waiting for a response.

back at home, the walk having been tense and silent, you were putting your melon soda into the fridge when you turned and—

satoru was right there, leaning against the counter, tail swishing low and agitated behind him. his ears were upright, twitching—like he was trying to look casual but couldn’t quite.

“so,” he said, eyes a little too sharp, “who was that?”

you blinked. “huh? oh, he’s just some regular at the restaurant. pretty harmless.”

“mmm. the kind of ‘harmless’ who likes seeing you in tiny skirts and nothing else?”

you stared at him. “what?”

“you heard me.” he was smirking—but his fangs were showing, and there wasn’t a single ounce of humor in his voice.

“what are you talking about?” you snapped. your ears twitched defensively, flattening a little. “i don’t even know his full name!”

“nothing,” he shrugged, tail flicking hard. “just think it’s funny how you’re suddenly so friendly with other guys after, i dunno, crying for my dick a few days ago.”

your jaw dropped. “excuse me?”

“you heard me.”

you stared at him, chest rising and falling rapidly. you were trying to scent the air for clarity, for calm, but it was full of him—sharp snow and clean cotton and something hot, something feral, underneath it all.

“who the hell do you think you are?”

his eyes darkened, pupils dilating fast. “i think i’m the fucking guy whose face you came all over—and now i get to watch you flirt with someone else right in front of me.”

your ears flattened fully against your scalp. “you’re such an idiot. i can’t believe i actually thought for a second that maybe—” you stopped, biting your tongue before the truth could spill.

satoru’s voice dropped lower, like a growl pressed into syllables. “that maybe what?”

you blinked away tears and shoved past him, brushing against his chest. you didn’t miss how he flinched—like your scent was setting him off.

you cried silently in the shower. the hot water wrinkled your fingertips while your chest ached with the weight of everything unsaid. you felt stupid. stupid for thinking maybe—maybe this was more than just instinct and pheromones. that maybe he felt it too.

you missed when life was simpler. when your biggest worry was whether the harvest would last the winter. when your only daily stress was the exact angle of the sun on the carrot beds. when there wasn’t a snow-haired man with a stupidly fluffy tail and predator instincts pacing your thoughts like a caged animal.

you debated going home. but that wasn’t an option. not really.

maybe it was time to move out.

you sighed, turned off the water, and stepped out, towel wrapped tight around your body—and nearly walked straight into satoru.

he was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, tail low and still. his ears flicked forward when he saw your face.

“move,” you croaked, voice hoarse. your ears were drooping, betraying everything you didn’t say.

“no,” he said gently.

you sighed, exhausted. “satoru, please just—”

he reached out and cupped your face in both hands. his palms were warm—almost too warm.

your eyes fluttered up to meet his.

“i’m sorry,” he murmured. “for being an ass.”

you tried to pull away. “sorry doesn’t fix this.”

his grip tightened just a little. “please.”

you froze. that word. the way he said it. the need in it.

“i don’t know why i said that shit—well, i do, but it’ll sound dumb if i try to explain.”

“try anyway.”

he was quiet for a moment. his ears drooped, tail curling close to his calf.

“something comes over me when i’m around you. like—like my whole body’s tuned into yours and nothing else. and when you’re gone, it’s like my senses won’t shut up. it hurts.”

his laugh was low and self-deprecating.

“that day, when i said being away from you was hell, i wasn’t exaggerating. when you let me help you through your heat, it took everything in me not to—fuck, not to lose it. because my instincts? they’re not soft. they’re not gentle. they’re made for biting and pinning and claiming.”

you stared at him, stunned.

“i’ve never felt like this before,” he admitted. “and i know our relationship is messy as hell, but when you come home smelling like someone else, even just a little—it makes me feel like i’m gonna snap.”

and he didn’t need to finish.

because you were already kissing him.

soft at first. confessional. honest.

you pulled back just a little. “you’re stupid.”

“i know,” he whispered, kissing you again.

it got hotter fast—his hands gripping your towel-wrapped waist, pulling you flush against him. you whimpered when his canines tugged at your bottom lip. he growled, chest rumbling deep in his throat, fingers digging into your plush hips like he could mold them into memory.

then—he jerked back abruptly, panting. his tail lashed behind him like a whip.

you flinched, startled. “what—?”

his pupils were blown wide, his breath ragged. “maybe we shouldn’t do that. not right now.”

“oh.” you wrapped your arms around yourself, your ears drooping.

“it’s not you,” he rushed. “it’s just—shit, i think your heat pushed my rut forward. and this... definitely isn’t helping.”

“oh.”

you chewed your lip. your stomach fluttered with nerves. “i could help you.”

his gaze snapped to yours, pupils near-black. “no. absolutely not.”

his voice was low. commanding. there was a dangerous edge to it that made your knees weak.

“bunny,” he said, deadly serious, “i’d hurt you. i don’t think i’d be able to control myself during a rut—i’d tear you to shreds.”

a shudder slid down your spine at the threat veiled in warning. your ears pinned flat. the heat pooling between your thighs deepened. you should be scared—maybe you were—but not enough.

satoru’s nostrils flared. he caught your scent in an instant. and he leapt back like he’d been electrocuted.

“okay. no. seriously, don’t do that.”

your eyes went wide. “s-sorry.”

your heart was racing. you were trembling slightly. but… not entirely from fear.

“just, um—could we kiss some more?” you asked quietly, voice small, eyes dropping to the floor. you felt so stupid asking. so bunny-coded it hurt.

but satoru was on you before you could blink. he kissed you hard, his lips crashing into yours with the kind of force that made your knees buckle. his hands were everywhere—pushing your towel up, gripping your waist, your stomach, your thighs. you whimpered into his mouth and he groaned, the sound gravelly and raw.

he fisted your hair, tilting your head back. his nose buried into your throat and he licked.

you gasped. your whole body jolted.

he hissed—your scent was too much. a drug. a trigger.

then—he bit.

not hard. not enough to draw blood. but enough to sting. enough to make your body go rigid in shock.

your eyes went wide. every part of your prey instincts screamed: freeze. run. hide.

satoru jerked back instantly. his chest was heaving. his eyes were dark and wild.

“oh, fuck.” his voice was raw, full of panic. “i—i think i need to get a motel. for the next couple days.”

you nodded numbly, brushing your fingers against the graze on your neck. it wasn’t even bleeding. but it felt like a brand.

“don’t come out of your room tonight,” he said sharply. “better yet—lock the door.”

he laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. “i’m not sure i trust myself.”

“i trust you, satoru,” you whispered. your voice wavered—but you meant it.

his eyes softened, just a fraction. his jaw unclenched. he leaned in again, slowly this time, like he was afraid to scare you.

he kissed you—gentle. chaste.

you could still feel him trembling.

“goodnight, little bunny.”

[luvseii]

bunny iglesias fucking you from behind while holding you upright by double-fisting your hair, accidentally giving you bunny ears. chuckling in your ear when he notices, his voice barely audible over your moans as he compliments how pretty you look. how you’re his favorite bunny.

©luvseii, 2025 — do not copy, steal, translate, or use any of my works or pngs to train ai. all works and pngs/dividers on this account belong to me.

[moechies]

toji 𝓍 bunnie ૮ ˃̵ ˂̵ აㅤㅤㅤ

toji who grabs his little bunnie gf by the scuff of her tail to pull her onto him.

“bunny, come sit on it.”

“ouuuch ! toji, stop it! hurts..!”

“heh, sorry bunny. c’mere.”

it happens so quickly. you had just been sprawled across the sheets, playing on your phone before you were rudely interrupted by a desperate old man, in need of some assistance.

“sit on my cock, honey. w’na feel you.”

“y-you’re so crude , toji .” you frown, but in no way do you take your time tugging off his pants. his cock springs up almost immediately , the hard shaft slapping against his tummy causing a blunt noise.

“s’ hard toji . .”

your mouth waters at the sight, holding the fat girth in the small of your hand. your hands don’t fully wrap around him, nearly an inch left of cock that gapes in between your fingers. his digits reach to pull the crotch of your panties aside, quickly pulling you directly above him, making you hover over his cock head.

“mm,” he hums, “don’t make me do it all , work yourself on it doll.” he teases, coming up to tug at your fluffy ear.

“s-stop it !” you whine, making him laugh. it’s hard to work him with no prep, the sloppy tip of his cock immediately stretching the fat folds of your cunt. it burns , but you’re soothed over by the sweet circles rubbed into your skin to pace you.

“t-too hard, why’re s’hard . . mmf—“

“y’were swayin’ yer ass all over the place. how could i not be, bunny? don’t be so naive.” he grunts, watching intently as his pudgy tip slides in and out of your chubby walls.

“i wasn’t, toji ! y-you’re such a perv!”

he laughs breathily , hoisting you above his cock before slamming you down completely. you scream and thrash at the unpreparing stretch, round tail fluttering as hairs on your fluffy ears stand.

“oh, bun.”

his fingers sneak behind your butt to fidget and tug on the fur of your tail once again, but this time, you’re too lost in a haze to pay it any mind,

“that, i am.”