Ambrosia
03 February 2026
100 words
Rated M for sexual content
Seven years. A perfectly respectable span for a hunt.
—
a drabble
Seven years. A perfectly respectable span for a hunt. The discipline to watch others hunger after the same target, trusting their impatience to be their downfall. Circling him, watching patiently. The euphoria of that luscious game finally surrendering.
Now, impaled, lay a willing sacrifice for the immortal gods, heavenly flesh for him to consume, his ambrosia.
The pleasure of being devoured left his beloved prey wordless and gasping. Each motion was a declaration: I love you, I cherish you, I adore you. They went on until both were sated.
“You’ve grown mellow.”
“I could say the same about you, darling.”
&
on AO3