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#they came from the deep au
doppelneer · 2 months
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Just a ref of the eel creature in treasure reef. The screen shots I used as reference are below
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puppetmaster13u · 8 months
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DP X DC X Subnautica
Where the Justice League (mostly focusing on the Superfam or Batfam or Flashfam) are large leviathan-esque creatures living on Planet 4546B. Maybe they can change forms due to Precursor experimentation, maybe not. Those with young hang out around the shallows more than the others, what with most of them being large super or specialized predators.
Enter Danny Fenton, interning on the Aurora when the ship is shot down by the Quarantine Enforcement Platform. Oh sure he probably would have tried to stop the destruction and help, but his ghost powers are a bit on the fritz and a well-meaning worker pushes him into one of the last life pods seeing as he's a child.
Now the leviathans may not know what a ship is exactly, but they can definitely understand that in most cases things technology = precursors. As far as they understand, a metal deathtrap not unlike the old labs or caches fell alongside several metallic eggs, with the emerging hatchlings misshapen and not living long.
But then there's the egg that landed in the shallows, which at first they thought was empty. But a hatchling- much smaller than the previous ones- emerges, a day later than the rest, but they're alive even if their swimming is all wobbly! It's so tiny, and obviously hatched too early with the strange split tail and how it keeps swimming to the surface for air, and they have to protect it! Now if only the little hatchling would answer their calls and not dart into hiding spots whenever they approach...
Honestly this is up to the writer lol, but I like to think that Danny's ghost form, when he finally manages to achieve it again, goes a little naga-esque. Almost like a sea snake instead of just a whispy ghost tail, which while better for swimming doesn't help his freak out over most ghost powers still not working.
Danny is just trying to survive man, maybe find other survivors, turn off this big alien gun, stop creating frost crystals when he sneezes, the usual. He doesn't need giant humanoid-esque leviathan-sized sea creatures poking around!
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tricoufamily · 5 months
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of course he'd fall for this
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lammydraws · 7 months
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sorry my handwriting is messy
"Mercy": Magic user, rings constantly rotating/orbinging (around her horns), wings made using magic, same as the "eyes of judgement" (both can be put away)
She's the person having the red crown before it is given to Narinder
???: receives one of the rings from Mercy, they can change their size freely. After Mercy's disappearance ??? returns to their realms, but keeps a close eye on the events ocurring in the Land of the Old Faith
"Oomi": also received one of the rings from Mercy, they also can use magic and use it to create their wings which they can put away
oomis character design was an adopt purchased from casper (@secondsonaym ) (they make cool stuff) (and i still have to properly draw them my apologies)
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lattekatte · 1 year
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Survivor’s Guilt AU, Chapter 1
i’m really nervous to post this but fuck it here we go. i wrote this back in july and never posted it until literally right now but kept thinking about it and i am going to write a chapter from adam’s perspective of what happens with him after this cause the story isn’t finished obviously. also this was before volume 4 when we found out that adam was an alternate all along so this was going off of the assumptions about adam’s nature that were kind of prevalent at the time. anyway here we go
Winter Break, 2009. 
Jonah’s head hurt. He felt the throbbing at his temples along with a red-hot sensation in his swollen eyelids as acrid tears irritated his eyes and dripped into his open mouth through gritted teeth. Wordlessly screaming internally against the incessant whispering in his mind, he pulled the car over with a jolt of the brakes and grasped at the door handle, half-falling out of the open car door onto the pavement. 
The road smelled freshly paved with pungent asphalt, reflecting an unwelcome white light into Jonah’s stinging eyes: the headlights of an approaching truck. Jonah felt a spike of terror as he rolled himself underneath his parked car, narrowly avoiding the front wheels of the large pickup truck as it crushed sticks and pebbles of asphalt inches from Jonah’s soft hands pushing his body out of the lane. Scrambling out from under the mechanics of the car onto the side of the road, his hands clawed into coarse dirt and grass, digging rough particles of cold sand into his nail beds as he pulled himself out and away from the street. 
Dehydrated from crying and dizzy from the adrenaline, he allowed himself to crumple onto the ground. The blood rushing through his ears raced through his head with an audible hissing noise, like static, putting a loud pressure on the inside of his head, like he’d just sprinted a mile with no water. Louder still was the rapid echoing and amplification of thoughts ricocheting off of the sides of his brain: you left him behind, you left him to die, you’re going to hell. He let out a strangled sob at the thought of Adam still in that house with no way out. If Adam hadn’t already been killed, the only other option was that his death was happening right now, at this very moment, with his only means of escape collapsed on the side of the road miles away. The worst best friend in the world.
Jonah lay face down in the cold grass, heaving sobs past the lump in his throat. He felt like throwing up, tasting bile that wasn’t there. After a long time, he was too exhausted for the frantic racing thoughts to continue, explosive whispering transitioning to morose silence and a painful kind of brain fog. A split second later, through this despondent haze in Jonah’s mind, the voices cut sharply from inside his head to outside. Outside, and right in front of him; emitting like radio static from a figure that came into focus as Jonah lifted his head. 
The figure was tall, and proportioned in a way that made Jonah go cross eyed trying to piece it together. Dressed almost angelically, with starkly pale skin and long blond waves of hair, it seemed to shudder in and out of focus. Its eyes looked drawn onto its face; the shapes of eyelid, iris and pupil geometrically aligned with each other. It was staring at Jonah, and emitting the same whispers that had haunted Jonah since he left Adam less than half an hour ago. It arranged its teeth in a smile, and spoke to Jonah without moving its mouth. 
“You left him to die.” 
Coming from the unmoving lips of this alternate, the phrase sounded less like an accusation and more like a sentence from some terrifying holy court. You cannot un-abandon a friend. 
Jonah stood up sharply, only to fall once again on his knees before the angelic alternate. He couldn’t stop himself from crying out, at first just a guttural scream, which made the figure take a few steps back. Slowly at first, Jonah’s wails changed into something more recognizable as “Is he alive? Is Adam dead? Is he dead?” 
The angel said nothing. 
Jonah had never been religious, but out of something analogous to complete desperation, he clasped his hands together so tightly that his nails drew blood, and he prayed in front of this mockery of an angel, and his prayer was a scream that tore its way through the raw tissue of his voice box: “Please, fucking please, bring him back! Let him come back alive!” 
The angel took a step, barefoot in the sparse grass, towards Jonah. 
“I’ll do anything! Anything you want me to do! I don’t fucking care! Kill me if you want, but bring Adam back!” 
The angel tilted its head to one side, like a curious nocturnal predator. It took another step toward Jonah, and then suddenly, like it was ambushing a small animal, it made a swift motion downwards. Jonah closed his eyes and flinched away, preparing for the worst. 
Nothing. Cautiously, he opened his eyes to see the angel kneeling on the ground inches from Jonah’s own kneeling position, grass staining its white robe where it touched the soil beside the road. Jonah’s dizzy gaze met the angel’s, and as his vision evened out to match the angel’s unwavering stare, the eyes looking into his own melted from pure black irises and uncannily wide eyelids to the same dark shade of umber as Jonah’s, sparkling with the same swollen redness of tears. Jonah gasped sharply, the cold air hitting the back of his throat like ice water, and fell back, hands against the rough soil. He tried to wrench his eyes away from the gaze that now matched his own, but found the eye contact impossible to break, as if it were a physically locked bond between them. 
The angel spoke again, and it spoke with Jonah’s voice and its own, two voices merged into one: “Do you blame yourself?” and, simultaneously, “You should blame yourself.”
Jonah tried to push himself backwards again and broke the eye contact, tears crashing back in a tidal wave to the corners of his eyes, but the angel reached out to him out of the darkness with a birch-white arm and grasped his face with a pale platinum hand that felt strangely warm against Jonah’s skin, the way metal gets warm after immense friction. The angel guided Jonah back towards it, tilting his head with its hand and holding his jawline in a way that was almost comforting. 
Jonah wanted to scream, but his voice broke with a sob as his eyes were fixed into the angel’s eye contact once again. Completely exhausted both mentally and physically, he gave in to the angel’s control. 
“It should have been me,” he whispered. 
Softly, almost kindly, the angel concurred, “It should have been you.” 
The guilt that Jonah felt was strong, but stronger than the acidity of guilt was the gravitational pull of acceptance. Jonah’s body went slack, and the angel took him into its arms and laid him down in its lap as it sat cross-legged on the short grass. 
“Do you wish to take his place, Jonah?” 
Jonah, for reasons unbeknownst to even himself, nodded. 
The angel sat silent for a while, then held out a closed hand to Jonah, who opened it. Inside was Jonah’s pocket knife, the small one with the faux pearl handle that he kept in his glove compartment for emergencies. Adam had bought it for him at a flea market in Mandela County several months ago. 
Jonah took the knife from the angel’s palm, and regarded it for a long moment through bleary eyes. Finally, he raised his head to meet the angel’s eyes, and this time it was him holding the eye contact. 
“Give me your word,” Jonah said, “that you’ll bring Adam back. The real Adam. Alive.” He pointed the knife forwards towards the angel’s chest in a final attempt at a threatening gesture, knowing full well he could do nothing, that he was harmless. 
The angel, holding the eye contact, melted its eyes from the velvet brown that matched Jonah’s irises to the slate blue-gray of Adam’s shining eyes. “I give you my word.”
Jonah sat up, slowly. There was a strong flavor of dread in his mouth and an even stronger conviction of what he was doing solidifying itself in his mind, like iron filings clinging onto a magnet. The rest of the world started to fade from his view into mist, matching the gray-dark of the night and the road. He felt a sense of clarity, seeing himself from the outside, silver-blonde hair soaked with tears trailing over soft mahogany skin, a trembling hand deliberately being raised as if by a crane operated in Jonah’s conscious mind, bearing the bright silver blade as cargo to its intended target, and he didn’t want to do it but at the same time he did. He owed it to himself and to Adam, of course to Adam. 
For Adam’s sake, he pushed his train of thought away from the memories of little Jonah eating raspberry lime popsicles in the backyard, hugging his parents at his fifth grade graduation, holding on tight to his favorite stuffed tiger and running around in the grass. For Adam’s sake, he refused to give himself the time to let his life flash before his eyes and to regret what he was about to do. For Adam’s sake, he ignored the mental image of little Jonah crying and afraid as an older version of himself taught him to fear the end of his life, blade pressed against little Jonah’s neck. 
With a lump in his throat, Jonah turned away from his childhood self, and he looked into Adam’s blue eyes. They looked back at him, kindly, from the porcelain face of the angel. 
“I’m coming back for you, Adam,” he choked out, and pushed the knife into his neck. 
Jonah woke up – wait, woke up? – on the grass, with a warm hand on his forehead. It felt like the only source of warmth in the world, pouring heat into his freezing body. Save for this feeling of heat on his forehead, he was completely numb head to toe, his lips and fingers blue and his face bloodless. As the warmth spread from his forehead to the back of his head, he felt that his hair was cold and wet, sticking to his scalp like red metallic mud. As he regained his sense of smell, the stench of iron and dirt gradually registered in his brain as the smell of blood, lots of it. He knew that this blood had to have come out of a living thing, and before it could dawn on him that he had been that living thing, the warmth spread to his neck. 
It intensified in a split second, becoming a white-hot scalding, burning heat, and Jonah screamed. The scream broke the fragile flesh that had already been split open, letting loose a flood of choking hot liquid into the boiling agony of his throat. He took a sharp inhale, a million tiny swords and knives embedding themselves into his vocal cords, and as he tried to restrain himself from screaming again, another hand clamped itself over his mouth. In total shock, Jonah froze, eyes widening in a stunned and agonized state of suspended animation. The hand that had been on his forehead moved quickly down to his neck, applying pressure from its palm onto Jonah’s throat, and the pain vanished, like a candle being blown out. He felt the sensation of his skin shifting and reattaching to itself, closing the wound that had been inflicted there. 
The hand returned to Jonah’s forehead, and he fell into a black anesthesia. 
Jonah woke up again, still on the grass, entirely paralyzed. Not even his eyelids would move, completely still across his eyes like two heavy weighted blankets. He tried to sit up, to open his eyes, to open his mouth, but it was as if the cord between his mind and body had been cut, like trying to flick on a lightswitch when the power is out. 
The angel– the alternate– was standing over him. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel its presence there, an obelisk of radiant horror. Acknowledging its presence formed a pit in his stomach, but he also felt an unfamiliar draw towards it that he couldn’t rationalize. He fought against this pull, struggling to breathe with the stiffened muscles around his lungs. A pained sound escaped him as his ribs cramped, sending a spike of discomfort through his chest. The angel reacted frighteningly quickly, stooping down to place a hand on Jonah’s upper torso and releasing the paralysis in his lungs, allowing him to intake a sharp mouthful of air. As Jonah’s breathing stabilized, he scanned his body for feelings of any injuries. He focused his attention onto his chest, trying to gauge how fast his heart was beating. It wasn’t. 
Before Jonah could even register this, he felt the angel settle down next to him, the hem of its robe rustling his hair as it folded around the side of Jonah’s head. It placed two fingertips, still strangely warm, on each of Jonah’s eyelids, and opened them. 
Jonah felt the sensation of being pulled through thick cloth, like he was being forced through the very fabric of spacetime. 
When his eyes opened, he found he could move again, and he dug his fingers into warm, dry carpet. Confused, he sat up, feeling the solid surface of a floor where a moment before there had been dirt and grass and frost. Breathing heavily, he scanned the space– small, with gray walls and a beige carpet– for the angel, for any other sign of life, alternate or otherwise. Although he still felt the imprints of the angel’s fingertips on his eyelids, there was nothing and no one to be seen. 
There were no windows in the room. The air was stifling, with no circulation, dry and warm, and Jonah got the distinct feeling of being enclosed by the earth. Sitting up on his knees, he struggled to hear a sound in the cloying silence of the room. The quiet was deafening, like white noise. Like static. 
The silence was suddenly broken by a wail that made Jonah’s stomach drop. Though distorted beyond its previous quality, it was all too familiar to him. It repeated again, a few seconds later, and again, and again: the warped sound of a cat’s cry. He was in the basement. 
“Oh no, no no no no,” Jonah’s voice quavered. He spun wildly, standing up too quickly. “Adam? ADAM!!” 
The recording of the cat resonated like a foghorn in Jonah’s brain, only causing him to panic further. It wailed again and again, like a broken alarm, low and threatening and pervasive. Jonah stumbled and fell, his body hitting the carpet with a thud, flinching as the wind was knocked out of him. He opened his eyes to a staticky white light, directly in front of his face, emanating from a box in the darkness ahead of him. With a startled gasp, he scrambled backwards, away from the TV. As he watched in horror, the cat sound lowered in pitch and stretched out, one continuous droning of absolute terror. And suddenly, the TV shut off, plunging Jonah into darkness, the tenor siren of the cat remaining, dropping sharply in pitch and quality once again, one long screaming sound in the dark basement. 
The panic in Jonah’s lungs drained the air from every part of his body, grasping hands of vacuum pressure forcing their way through his torso and out through his mouth in a sharp spasm of air. The pressure of his fear was palpable and all-consuming, painfully crushing his body into the carpet and digging nails into the crevices of his subconscious mind. The atmosphere itself had him pinned to the ground, rendering him absolutely helpless against the sentient, ambient terror enveloping him. He struggled in the gravitational restraints of his own form, a last desperate effort to escape the feeling that was overcoming him. Hot tears streamed down his cold face, flowing over the surface of his skin like warm water from a tap, generating a sharp tingling sensation like pins and needles that spread over him entirely. Nothing hurt anymore, but Jonah screamed for his life, writhing against the visceral shifting feeling spreading throughout his body, fighting the strange comforting lull that had started to seep into his consciousness. 
For as long as he could, Jonah resisted the change, but finally, all at once, he felt the last bit of his strength slip away. The pressure pulled him under and covered him completely, and it dissolved him until he was unrecognizable. 
.
.
[author’s note: fuck] 
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transsweet · 2 years
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favs from tge aggie tonight ‼️
forest gods au - charliedzilla
musical nerds - rain-writes-fics
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dxppercxdxver · 1 year
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yeehaw!! (more of that collaboration with @chiropteracupola!!)
deep within, your hunger burns
The grandfather clock in the corner of Filomena’s study clicked steadily toward sunrise, keeping in lockstep with her sluggish, pounding heart. Reams and reams of paper sat as yet untouched upon her desk. Her night’s work was young, despite the hour, and the stacks of blank parchment spoke to the effort still the come, the anxiety wracking her body like an unseasonable winter’s chill. Looping scrawl disintegrating by the minute blurred before her eyes; her hand was beginning to cramp from the duration of her encryption, and yet, Filomena had far to go before she could rest.
While her task would be Sisyphean to anyone, the threat of discovery loomed heavy over her shoulder, sending icy chills down her neck. It would hardly do for one of her newfound teammates, or enemies, or friends, or whatever they would become to her, to find her here. Sighing, she drew her shawl tight round her shoulders, fingers worrying at the fraying tassels.
She would need to replace her candle soon.
There was a gentle tap at her door, the familiar sound of silver-bound fingers against an oaken jamb. Without looking up, Filomena already knew who was waiting for her.
“Lady Helen,” she said, never staying her duty, not even for a moment. Long ago, Filomena had mastered the art of continually writing, no matter the distraction, and Helen valued her for it. It made her efficient. Helen did not abide idleness.
“Miss Pauling.” Despite her age, Helen’s voice was slick as oil, sturdy and cutting as any blade. Only the hour demanded the hushed tone in which she spoke, but her words still carried a weight Filomena had come to dread. “May I come in?”
“Certainly.”
Filomena placed her pen back in its inkwell, grateful for the moment to stretch her arms and listen to the joints pop in quick succession, before turning to where Helen stood, regal in her rich purple gown. Her bony fingers clacked against each other under the weight of her jewelry, hands clasped at her stomach tense as the sharp line of her mouth. Eyes narrowed, flashing gold in the firelight, she did not look pleased.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” It was rare to hear from Helen nowadays. The war occupied much of her time, and the air of mystery she had worked so hard to cultivate around their hired band of mercenaries would hardly do to be shattered by too many sightings of her goings about the house, so when Filomena chanced to see her, it was always a relief and a warning in equal measure. The maddening quiet was over, but the news it brought was often a knife to Filomena’s stomach.
Helen laughed without humor. “I should hope you would be glad to see me no matter the cause.”
“Well, of course I am, my Lady,” under the force of her gaze, Filomena always felt herself floundering, a little girl scolded for staining the carpet again, “but given the circumstances, I would presume something is on your mind.”
“Hm. You presume correctly.” Eyeing the scattered papers, Helen raised a sharp brow. Filomena smiled, hesitant and apologetic. Taking a whistling breath through her nose, Helen inspected a long fingernail, flicking at it with her thumb. “Are they getting along?”
“You mean our houseguests?”
“You’re a smart girl, Miss Pauling,” Helen said. “What do you think?”
Shrinking against her mother, Filomena twiddled with her glasses. “Well, I would hardly call them friends, to be sure, but they are settling into their roles quite nicely.”
“Really.”
“Yes, my Lady.” Fishing through her files, Filomena selected two sheets of paper from her personal records, detailing her observations. She passed them to Helen, who skimmed them with a scowl, while she continued, “Monsieur Laurent and Mister Thornton have been more troublesome than most, but not nearly so much as we suspected. Their antisocial tendencies and… exuberance, respectively, have been rather tempered by the contract work and the company we keep. Extraordinarily hard workers, the lot of them. It is… commendable.”
Helen nodded, humming approvingly, before returning Filomena’s notes. “This is good news, indeed.”
“I should say so.”
When it became clear Helen had said her piece, Filomena slowly returned to her work, ears pricked for any further remarks. None came, and for a moment, she felt herself frozen in time, hours before sunrise, with nothing but hollow breathing for company. The scratching of her pen eased her back into a familiar rhythm. She had done alright for herself, she mused, and if Helen’s drawn conclusion was any indication, her mother thought so too.
“Do you think they suspect?”
The question reverberated around the study with all the deafening, omnipresent clamor of a church bell, batting Filomena about the head until it rang in harmony. Without the unequivocal reminders of the true nature of her job, she could almost pretend away the secret mission, the turning of knives in hands and the arrangements of the decks of cards; the forgeries, the lies, the killing. It stood to reason Helen would not allow her to forget.
Knot twisting in her stomach, Filomena’s hand froze.
“I sincerely doubt it,” she said, and found it to be an honest observation. The mercenaries taking up residence in the manor that had stood as her second mother since she was but a girl were too friendly, too naive, too stupid to know the purpose of their mission, and she was damn good at what she did. Her web was around them, and they would be none the wiser.
If they were, she would be dead. They were good at what they did, too.
This was how she knew.
“Excellent. Ensure that it remains that way.”
“Yes, my Lady.”
Clicking her tongue, Helen about faced and headed for the door, heels tapping staccato against the clock’s pendulum. It took Filomena longer than she would have liked to notice the off-beats of the cork abruptly ceasing.
“A word of advice, Miss Pauling?” Helen’s expression was stern, gray streak defiant against the inky black of her hair. Shadows played off the bones in her face, rendering it skeletal. When she spoke, her message crawled down Filomena’s spine and into her ribs, clutching at her heart with blackened claws. “Don’t get involved.”
Memories of joviality flitted forth, unbidden, as if reminding Filomena of her secret shame; wine around the dinner table, target practice on the expansive lawn, and games of cards in the library, among many other little pleasures she had allowed herself in the company of their guests. Their guests, who had been nothing but kind to her, even if she suspected a fair few of them never actually meant it. Their guests, who trusted her, who wanted her, who seemed to like her. A lump was fast growing in her throat, threatening to choke her.
“I won’t.” Filomena tapped the side of her nose. “Promise.”
With a conspiratorial wink, Helen said, “Good work, Filomena,” and disappeared into the hall, letting the heavy wooden door slam closed behind her.
“... Thanks.” All that answered was the empty, and the whistling of the wind outside. Beside her, the candle burned ever lower. The wax was beginning to pool atop her paperwork, and she pulled it aside with a huff, scraping it off as delicately as she could.
Damn this, she thought to no one in particular. Casting around the study, replacement candles were not to be found, and only then did Filomena remember she had run out the night before. While others could more than likely be sourced from elsewhere in the house, her legs ached, and her eyelids were threaded through with exhaustion heavy as lead.
“Damn this,” Filomena said again, as the candle winked out, leaving her in the darkness. Instinctually, she reached for the chain wended about her wrist, a token of appreciation from her mercenaries, more than likely stolen from the house of some New Jersey noblewoman. Her thumb quickly and comfortably found the etching in the bronze cross.
She was cut loose, swimming in the warmth of the metal in her palm, the euphoria of Helen’s admiration, and the grandfather clock simply continued its steady ticking march.
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So here’s a Minecraft… theory? AU? Me looking at skulk and going ‘I can make an apocalypse outta this’
I want you to image what could happen if skulk could spread to and effect mobs & players.
What if Skulk infection caused violent and murderous instincts because it wants them to kill to spread the skulk more.
Imagine a wolf getting infected by it and becoming hostile because it has to kill because the skulk needs to spread.
Imagine entire villages tearing themselves apart because this is like the zombie infection but worse because nobody knows how to cure it. It drives the people it infects insane until all that they can think about is helping the skulk spread. Until they can’t fight it - they have to kill.
Maybe the little ‘souls’ in the wardens rib cage are those of the people who have lost themselves to the skulk, only to be released when the warden is killed. That’s what the warden guards. The souls of those lost to skulk.
Maybe they (the people living in the over-world) went to hide underground. Maybe it found them anyways. Maybe the survivors kept trying to escape and it led them to another dimension entirely. Maybe, maybe, maybe they had to adapt, change completely to fight it of. Maybe it’s not that skulk looks similar to end-portal-frames but it’s the other way around.
Maybe the endermen don’t want you to look at them because it makes them feel seen - they know they’ve changed, they look like a monster. Maybe it dregs up those old instincts from the skulk they try so hard to fight off.
Maybe the skulk can infect mobs. Maybe it destroys an ancient civilisation. Maybe all that’s left are ruins.
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hirokiyuu · 1 year
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(ripping my hair out by the handful) Sol Is Not Trapped In The Time Loop Sol Is There Because They Choose To Be
#life on earth i am begging you please get life on earth#teenexo stuff#this is my biggest adn pettiest pet peeve but every time a fic is tagged fix it abt either#a) sol leaving the time loop or#b) dys not [redacted]#i start ripping out my hair. please. please. please#the irony is besk lives au actually does hit point b eventually however. however#i dont think its a fix it for him to do it or not do it i think its just a choice he can choose to make#i really do honestly and genuinely believe its fine and morally neutral and not a bad thing#i dont think relationships need to last forever to be deep and meaningful and i think dys staying for sol for so long is already like#a sign of his love and how much he cares for them. like. i think its fine. i genuinely do think its fine that he goes#idk theres a quote from this book i really like thats smth like uhhh#your lover doesnt belong to you they are choosing to lend themself to you every day#and i think abt that w/rt dys/sol a lot its just good u kno#dys stays for sol because he loves them. he leaves because he wants to do that too#and i think the act of him staying bc he loves them is really nice! having the time together they have is nice!#idk i also dont think sol would be able to be like....... With dys long term if they didnt understand/acknowledge this at least a little?#basically. i think there are circumstances where dys wouldn't do it but i dont think those are fix-its lol#ANYWAYS clambers back off my soap box#this wasnt even what i came here to complain about#ok back to packing byeeeeeee#i was a teenage exocolonist spoilers ?#probably somewhere in there im guessing
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doppelneer · 14 days
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Wip of a Sketchbook page that's au related I'm working on. Might go into some of the darker horror things further down... (Trust me, it gets worse and maybe bad ending related. Yes, this au may have multiple endings now)
I enjoy the unsteady vertigo feeling it's giving so far, like a boat rocking back and forth violently in a storm.
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I love pen and ink... probably the medium I am most comfortable with and so good for horror vibes.
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vyrion · 1 year
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stares off into the distance. iam creating aus you wouldnt even Believe
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telaraneas · 2 years
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god i could write whole ass essays about yesfir's writing its so good
#and maybe i will someday!!! maybe tomorrow or something!!#i have. WORDS about how they write vriska and john tbh i dont super like it#that said the rest of the words are about HOW FUCKING GOOD THEIR WRITING IS???#like..... the worldbuilding. exquisite. mwah#i came to first contact for the davekat and rosemary arranged marriage shenanigans and stayed for the engaging political drama#theres so much exploration of like... feferis role and how it contrasts with karkats.#how despite theoretically being the most priviledged member of the system vs someone who the system does not allow to exist at all#they are actually The Same#it made me realize how in like any canon setting non sgrub au. feferi and karkat would be the only two of the group to die before adulthood#like. non debatable! they were not going to make it past their teenage years.#how despite their opposing aspirations for their future#feferi wanting to change the system to be kinder and not based on cruelty#and karkat wanting to prove himself worthy enough to be allowed to uphold the violence of the system instead of being its target#in the end neither actually has a choice. the system would not allow them to take part in it#i think even MORE about the hunger games one#about the stark contrast between canon karkat and the karkat of that universe#how in canon karkat was so gung ho about becoming a tool of the empire and how he glorified cruelty and violence#despite very evidently not being capable or willing to commit that violence deep down!#while in lets play a game he has been raised in a society in which the horror derived from the violence is a core part of the propaganda#and this combined with Being Raised By Kankri And Meulin makes him a person who is in fact VERY aware of his own aversion to hurting others#the divide between karkat's talk with kanaya before the battle where despite understanding and accepting he is not a fighter.#he cannot fathom any way of measuring his worth that isn't intrinsically tied to the battlefield#while karkat in lpag refuses time and time again to allow the world to pain his actions in those terms despite everything#refuses to kill another even framed as kindness and refuses to pretend the death of terezi would be desirable even for his survival#like im obsessed with how these SOUND like inconsistencies but like no??? this IS pretty clearly the kind of person karkat is!!#but hes a lil prospit idiot and is thus even more strongly shaped by his enviroment and the narratives that surround him#and its so fascinating to see how his actions and mindset play out in a different enviroment
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tteokdoroki · 7 months
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ೀ⋆OCT 1ST PRINCESS DIARIES ━━ satoru gojo + breeding !
୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. satoru gojo + breeding. thirty days until you become queen, thirty days to get married and thirty days to stop sneaking around with the man trying to steal your crown… (5.2K)
୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, royalty!au, enemies to lovers (?), forbidden romance, infidelity and cheating, spit kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, pregnancy kink, breast play, agoraphilia, baby trapping, oral sex (f!recieving), unprotected sex, princess + fem!reader, lord!satoru gojo.
୨୧ — director’s note. woo happy spooky season my loves. welcome back to another tteokdoroki kinktober! im excited for you to see whats in store this year, hope you enjoy this fic to start off mwah! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧
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you have thirty days to get married.
being from a small town, somewhere that’s not even on the map — you never expected your family name to carry much meaning aside from the one you carved out for yourself. let alone expect your name to come from royalty.
if you thought discovering how to be a teenager at sixteen was hard, then try discovering how to be a princess at sixteen on for size. everything you’ve ever done since finding out you were royalty has been for your family. you’ve kept your head down, out of the spotlight aside for the occasional appearance and charitable events. you’ve studied hard, double-majoring in international relations alongside political science and diplomacy. 
you’ve prepared yourself thoroughly enough to feel ready to take the mantle of queen — especially with your grandmother planning to step down. all of your accomplishments have been leading up to this very moment — it’s so close that you can practically feel the weight of the crown on your head. 
except there’s one itty, bitty, little problem.
you still have to get married in thirty days. otherwise, your family title will be poached from right beneath your nose.
satoru gojo (aka public enemy number one) is the nephew of a member of parliament who just so conveniently knows genovian law better than your grandmother does. since satoru came of age before you did, and he’s lived in genovia for longer than you have, and has some random distant relative in connection to the first king — the men of parliament have decided that he too is in line for the throne. 
especially if you, the princess, do not marry before your coronation. 
how ridiculous is that? 
and not only is this satoru gojo an evil, conniving, crown-stealing bastard. but he’s charming, a silver tongue wrapped around each and every one of his words. charming, like a prince (blegh) he’s also stupidly attractive. with deep sapphire blue eyes that are gorgeous enough to make the crown jewellers weak in the knees and a smile so sweet it feels like a sugar rush whenever he looks at you. there’s something so unique about the frostiness to his soft white hair, matching his unfairly long lashes — the ones you know girls back home would kill for. 
it angers you to know that you’d been dancing with your rival at your welcome ball, pains you to know that you’ll never forget his slender fingers splayed out against the small of your back to guide your every movement. if you had been back in college (and had a few litres of hard liquor in your system), perhaps gojo would have been the type of guy you’d have snuck into the dorms for a night of fun and an NDA in the morning — your secret signed away from the paparazzi’s keen eyes. 
alas, these are very different circumstances and there’s a lot riding on you being sensible about the situation. yet, satoru proves himself to be a problem every chance that he gets — cornering you in closets with his breath hot against your ear, trapping you against the walls while the ghost of his touch feels like heaven against your skin… on the staircase too, insistent on reminding you of the passionate dance you once shared.
all while you’re set to marry the duke of another country so you can keep your fucking crown (pardon the language, your highness).
suguru geto would be the perfect king consort if you managed not to mess this up. he is warm, where satoru is a flip between disastrously hot and frustratingly cold. he balances you out, a mellowness to your clumsiness whilst understanding your need for a rushed proposal and wedding. raised a gentleman, suguru is mindful of you in every action he takes. he doesn’t stare too long but smiles when you think he’s not looking and he’s a wonder with your grandmother — the parents, too. his family gem (a serpentine, making you feel much like a snake) sits heavy on your ring finger, dazzling under camera flashes at your engagement dinner…. and he recognises duty and honour above anything else too. 
if satoru is your enemy, then guilt is your friend. no matter what either of the men in your life do, you find yourself comparing their every move. when you’re with suguru your mind is away chasing the fairies, imagining the touch of another man who sets your heart alight in a cool blaze — like gasoline trickling through your veins waiting for its candle match. when you’re with satoru, all you can think about is how wrong this is. how geto doesn’t deserve this. but you’re an addict without a cure, and your drug is satoru gojo and you don’t see yourself ever  quitting him.
you're in desperate need of a wake up call and a nicotine patch, the cocky yet lecherous air about him almost acting like a smog in your healthy and capable lungs. sometimes through the fog, you wonder if satoru knows how much he weighs heavy on your mind— though if he did, you’d never hear the end of it. 
the current queen tells you not to worry about the white haired man that’s slowly freezing over the four chambers of your heart. you tell yourself that suguru geto is the only man that you need, one that could help you rule and create a beautiful and better kingdom for many years to come. geto tells you that he loves you, that he can’t wait to marry you in two or three weeks time and you respond with equal (yet, faux) excitement.
perhaps that’s why you find yourself sneaking away from this respectful, loving man to be with the one trying to ruin your life?
why are you following satoru gojo deep into the royal gardens, where the rose bushes are the only witness to your sick and twisted sins?
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your back hits the jagged pattern of tree bark before your brain can catch up — causing a little wet whimper to bubble up on your pinky-peach tainted lips. the flutter of pain just beneath your skin only lasts for a second before it’s replaced by the sensation of satoru’s fingers traversing up the dips and curves of your body. he soothes you where it hurts the most, rough fingertips leaving bruising marks made with affection along your thighs and small of your back while he swallows your sweet gasps — licking into the wet cavern of your mouth to taste you. 
“you’re not even…” his words spill into you, adding fuel to the spark of lust beginning to form a pit in your stomach. “you’re not even attracted to him,” he spews, surging forward like a storm knocking on your door to press his greedy spit slicked lips to yours. his tongue, syrupy and wet, intertwined with your own, filling you up and giving you something to suck on. 
before you can even think of kissing your rival back, he retreats and takes his swollen lips with him — latching onto your neck and weaponizing his teeth against it. you gasp, your angel’s song tipping out into the rose garden while your fingers tangle in silver-moon locks and let him work against you, claiming you just below the neckline of your dress where no one will be able to see. 
except for maybe your fiancé and only god knows how you’ll be able to explain the marks to him tonight. ‘oh you know me, suguru. i’m way too clumsy for my own good.’ you’ll say, all while thinking about how the man after your crown blew your back out at your engagement party. 
you know why satoru’s acting such a fool — taking risks that he wouldn’t normally. the dress you’re wearing, the colour of his eyes, drives him fucking insane. you can’t say that you didn’t ask for this, like it wasn’t on purpose. 
“can’t fucking stand you,” gojo groans against your skin, nose pressed to your collarbone as he inhales the candied notes of your perfume. “been giving me those angel eyes all day. knowing that i can’t take my fucking eyes off of you when you wear that colour, princess.” 
he’s insufferable, but here you find yourself at the mercy of his touch — offering up your body to satoru gojo like a sacrificial lamb as your back arches away from the tree and presses your chest into his eager strawberry tongue. it leaves a slimy track over your neck and dips between the cleavage of your dress while gojo makes his descent down to hell — tasting the shimmering crystals of salt on your skin. 
satoru gojo belongs on his knees. 
kneeling before you with the royal blue tule of your dress between his shaking hands. you can tell he’s trying not to rip it off of you. born to worship you.  mirth weighs down his lashes and desire dances between the navy blue flecks in his sapphire eyes — he needs you so bad it might kill him. from this position he can practically smell how turned on you are, he’d recognise the mouth-watering aroma of your drooling cunt anywhere, slick gathering in the crotch of your barely there panties. 
there’s a depraved, royal treasure hidden between the string of fabric that runs between your juicy pussy lips — swollen and waiting to be devoured by your enemy. not that you’d ever admit that to him. “i think you should be referring to me as your queen.” you manage between ragged breaths, satoru eyeing the way your chest heaves from beneath the bust of your dress. 
instead of responding, his head unceremoniously dips beneath your skirts and he drags a thigh over the width of his broad shoulders. “watch your mouth,” the lord purrs salaciously as he licks up your inner thigh, the vibrations shooting straight to your swollen clit. “let’s remind you of who’s really in charge.” the both of you feel it, the aching throb of your pussy against gojo’s lips as he wedges his face right between your thighs. you can’t help but grind against him in wanton, desperate to be filled up with fingers, tongue whatever your sworn enemy has to offer up to the crown. 
but your warmth and wetness does nothing to coax satoru into tongue fucking his way past your clenching, creaming entrance. rather, he draws his head back just a touch and rubs at your cunt like he loves you, dips his fingers just into your quivering hole and then — smack !
juices run down satoru’s arms as if he’s taken a bite into the fruit that tempted eve while he laughs in awe of just how fucking sloppy you are between your thighs. the spank to your puffy folds makes you jolt in surprise, causing you to scratch your back against the jagged tree bark. 
“gojo!” you squeak in warning as your thighs close around his veiny hand. 
he sticks his tongue into his cheek, smirking in amusement before prying your shaky legs apart. “that’s not quite right, try again for me, princess...” gojo repeats the process, running between your slick folds and spanking you against them when you fail to respond. “you know my name, baby. c’mon it’s easy, i’ll even say it with you. d…d…” 
you refuse to stoop so low, to let demeaning words escape from underneath your tongue but not having satoru’s mouth on you is like torture — just his breath against your cunt is akin to dangling a carrot in front of a starving horse. you know what that pleasure is like, you crave it and you’re not above begging no matter how royal you may be. 
“f-fuck, daddy!” you whinge defiantly, screwing your eyes shut and letting your head fall back against the tree. satoru wastes no more time then, slotting his hot mouth against the entire length of your silken slit. the first thing he does is moan, the vibrations shooting twinges of ecstasy from your clit through the rest of your body and even reaching your head — making the world around you spin. 
the tip of his tongue teases its way past your entrance, squirming around to brush up against pleasure spots your little fingers can’t even reach. “that’s right princess, knew you could do it. you’re not just some stuck up little girl.” the white haired lord praises, drawing back from your quivering hole — connected to you by a string of your glistening slick. 
“shut up, just… put your mouth to good use.” you grunt, your hips canterint down onto gojo’s face to keep him quiet. your fingers take root in his silvery moon locks, dragging the man and his pink tongue onto your sex once more. gojo takes the hint, making your cute little clit his next victim as he rolls it between perfect rows of pearly whites and sends your eyes into the dark depths of your skull. 
the sinful and salacious sensation provides a welcomed distraction from your responsibilities as the crown princess. if your grandmother could see you now, you know that all she’d feel is disappointment— especially if she knew her granddaughter was fucking the biggest threat to the crown. and suguru, your poor fiancé — he was probably stuck mingling with guests he didn’t even know, looking for your eyes in the crowd like he always did. 
shame should be burning through your veins, not the white hot trickle of desire that you’re filled with as satoru slurps your juices from between your fat pussy lips. the needy groans he lets out against you inch down your spine, drown you in stormy waves of lust and you find yourself addicted to the bob of gojo’s head from underneath your tule skirts. you’re just so wet, pouring the royal family’s riches, liquid gold straight into the man’s greedy mouth as he drinks you in.
your nectar glazes his cheeks and chin in a devilish shine, brighter than the crown set to sit atop your head — his mouth barely parts from your ravaged and swollen romping as if he’s married to eating you out, tongue licking you up and down before your juices even have a chance to drip to the ground. you can only imagine what would happen if the press found out, your life would be over and so would satoru’s. but you don’t care, because every second that gojo spends between your thighs dragging you to orgasm is worth it. every single time. 
he grips at your ass, pulling you back onto his tongue as it flickers in and out of you. the whole ordeal is disgusting and delightful and you never want it to end. pleasure mounts high within you, evident in the shakiness of your gripes and grouses, lust laden in its tune. 
“s-satoru…satoru. i’m gonna… g’na fuckin’ cum!” a high pitch squeal tears in your throat like music to gojo’s ears — now working relentlessly to get you off just like you need. he doesn’t care if he’s suffocating, at least he’ll die a happy man between the thighs of a princess. 
he chuckles against your sex. “such a dirty mouth for such a proper lady.” the lord says as if he’s a scolding you.
but you can barely hear him, for static rings in your ears as your body loses the war to your orgasm. your release bubbles up on his tongue like the fresh pop of champagne, while your brain fizzles and clears itself of all logical thought. guilt is replaced by bouts of lust, making you realise that this cycle of avoiding and fucking gojo will never end. you’re too addicted to him and he’s too obsessed with you, as long as things remain that way — sex with him will always be on the agenda. 
you can’t promise yourself, your grandmother or suguru that this will be the last time. 
dopamine dances across gojo’s brain as he drinks in the tangy-honey flavour of your release, letting it splatter against his puffy lips as they encircle your clit to prolong your orgasm. you gush as if you’re a rushing erotic river, spilling into satoru’s earnest mouth while he licks you clean with wanton.
“look at that… oh look at you. cumming for me already.” 
“f-fuck you.”
“fuck me?” he smirks, making your gut lurch with wanton. “fuck you. i’m the one that’s working on it, princess.” satoru slowly rises to his feet, licking a nasty spit-slicked trail from your hole to the cleavage peeking out from underneath your dress. he doesn’t even stand to his full height, his large frame towering over you as he yanks down the front of your dress to lick and suck and play with your breasts until you can’t tell what’s up or down anymore.
his perfect teeth graze a pert nipple which makes you gasp and cry, loosely looping your arms around satoru’s neck while his ravaging mouth works your sensitive breasts, even going as far to swipe his tongue over the spot where each one meets your ribcage. he doesn’t leave any marks, you’re not his to keep. large and rough hands replace the warmth of his mouth on you to toy with your mounds of flesh — pinching and pulling as satoru kisses you senseless. you groan at the taste of your slick on his tongue and salt of your skin as well, tugging him closer so that there’s no space between your heated bodies. 
“don’t cry,” satoru comments softly against your swollen, cherry-bitten lips — cupping your face between his fingers. blinking slowly, you allow your frenzied brain the chance to catch up to reality  and you don’t realise the tears that wet your cheeks until he points them out. why are you even crying? “you’re too pretty for that.” his compliments do nothing to clear the lustful, confused fog settling over your mind like a dark cloud so you follow your body’s instincts and reach for the metal clasp on his belt. 
nimble fingers make their way down the front of gojo’s dress pants and he hisses at the quick pumps of his perfectly hard cock before you’re dragging up your skirts and guiding him towards your entrance. “baby, wait—“
you push his pants down enough to let his erection spring free, pulsing with need and standing at full mast against the cotton blouse covering his tummy. “i need you.” you sniff, dropping your panties to your ankles. “please.” 
the thing about sex with satoru is that it never feels like just sex. he tenderly hikes the meat of your thigh over his slender hips, lets his dribbly, sticky cockhead twitch forward and ease past the salaciously slick barriers of your empty hole, and presses your bodies so close together that you think you might forget how to breathe. satoru makes love to you each and every time — and it’s terrible. 
like eating too much sugar or indulging in a bad smoking habit. you’re not supposed to be in love with him and the way he fucks up into you, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis even with all of the fabric in the way. “don’t cry for him, f-fuck,” the both of you look down, your pupils dilating at the sight of your pussy swallowing his lengthy shaft whole — catching on the ridges of each blue vein spiralling around him. “cry for me, princess. i’m the one that’s ruining you.” 
with his forehead pressed to yours, silver hair matted down by the line of perspiration against it — satoru braces a hand against the tree above your head and sets stream to his passionate thrusts, fluid like water under a bridge. it’s not fair, how wrong this is and how good it feels to have gojo lick over the parts of you he would bite down on if you were his. your pulse point, your neck, the spot just under your ear that’s way too sensitive for your own good. it should be suguru fucking you like this, your fiancé. 
yet, there’s no room for self-loathing and despair between the rough tree and satoru gojo above you. nothing aside for the thick curtain of lust that protects you from prying eyes in the rose garden, floral scents twisting with the raw, aphrodisiac-like smell of sex and sweat while he pounds away at your swollen pussy, grinding his cock wetly against the sweet spots dotted along your ribbed walls. 
“i should put a baby in you,” he says suddenly, just barely audible over the wet pap, pap, pap of your sexes working together. embarrassment burns bright under the surface of your cheeks because you’re that wet and it’s that loud, the remainders of your previous orgasm making it easier for satoru’s cock to glide in and out of you. “leave you with a little gift. a present — reminder of our time together, yeah?” he knows that he’s not making any sense, leaving his confession behind sex and sultry words. he would never admit to how much he loves you, he’s already ruined you enough. he’s already taken more than enough from you too. “i’ll get to the crown either fuckin’ way.” 
satoru talks with his dick and you fucking like it, squeezing the damn daylights out of him. he can barely pull back with you locked down on like that, his seedy tip snug between your ruined folds — clinging into him by viscous ropes of your last orgasm and freshly formed globs of his white hot precum. “you like that, don’t you princess?” he coos down to you condescendingly, picking up the pace of his hips as he rams into you mercilessly. the tree shakes from the force, sprinkling pretty and innocent petals over you both. “you wanna make me a daddy? my queen? give me a little prince or princess.”
“fuck yes, satoru!” nodding your head with wanton, you press yourself into his neck and squeeze him close by the ass cheeks so the only place your lover can go is deeper. you want to be able to feel him in your guts, hot in your womb like an iron rod — anything to forget the trickle of betrayal filling you up like a glass of wine. “i want it, i want it…i want—“
you cut yourself of with an abrasive sob, as you moan your agreements. i want you. you feel the words on the tip of your tongue, drowned out by the slippery sounds of sex and creaking tree trunk. you’ve never wanted anyone as much as you’ve wanted satoru gojo.
but he’s the wrong person, in the wrong place, at the wrong time. 
“i know you do, i know,” you can feel gojo move to slobber over your chest, pacifying his whistle tone whimpers with your nipples bouncing in his mouth. he looks up at you with vacant cerulean eyes that shimmer like the skies above, the crude mix of your arousals slinging at the point at which your bodies join. “tell me how much you love daddy’s cock, princess.” 
he goads because he craves your attention. satoru can feel you slipping from between his fingers, the guilt that rolls off of you in waves as he languidly rams into your cunt. he’s asking a lot of someone who’s too stimulated, too fucked out to speak — your tongue barely staying in your mouth. 
“sato—!”
“c’mon… answer me, fuck, there we go.”
that’s when he hikes you up in his arms, lifting you a little to feverishly thrust up into you — dragging you closer to another high. your nails dig deep into his taut ass, nudging his dick against your g-spot. suguru would never be this rough with you, would never want to fuck you so good that the pleasure hurts.
shaking your head, your eyes glisten but the denial doesn’t stop small streams of arousal from squirting out and webbing against gojo’s soft pubes. “i-i can’t! i don’t—“ satoru bites down on your nipple, hard, cutting through your train of blurry thought. “i love…h-him!” 
you love your fiancé, but you both know that’s a lie.
“yeah, sure you do. that’s why your pussy’s huggin’ my cock so tight. you don’t wanna let me go, baby.” even while he’s a mess for you, your rival still finds it in him to be such an egotistical prick. you can’t even tell him that he’s wrong, because you never ever want to be without satoru, without this immensely overwhelming feeling of ecstasy fluttering through your entire body. it’s all too much, he’s too much, stretching you wide and filling you with the love (and cum) you should be getting from suguru. 
thunder cracks above your head, lightning flashes through the trees as if the higher power up above is bearing witness — growing distraught at your sins. it’s not long before the heavens open up on you both and your sweaty, sex slicked bodies are doused in rain. but it doesn’t stop you, doesn’t stop satoru from dragging down your bottom lip to lovingly spit into your mouth. 
he kisses you as if it’s not enough, rocking his hips into you so he can bully your insides and mark them with his pre. “bet he’s lookin’ for you right now, hm? his precious wife to be…drenched in my cum ‘n drenched in the rain.” satoru heaves, letting the patter of the rain drown out the sound of his tightening balls slapping against your ass. “bet he wishes he could fuck you like i do.” 
you can’t tell if it’s the tears of guilt and longing or the rain that blurs your vision. “h-he doesn’t get to!” you cry like a dirty porn-star, hardly becoming of a soon to be queen. “o-only you!” 
“only me, hm? i’m flattered.” he seems elated, hiding his flushed face and happy smile in the junction between your neck and shoulder. his wet hair tickles your skin. “too bad he doesn’t know his princess comes used and abused between her pretty legs, huh?”
the rain is cold against your skin, seeping through your clothes, ruining your makeup — but the way satoru licks up your hot streaky tears and the droplets of water against your skin as if to sooth you… the way he does it fills you with warmth. 
your limbs become heavy from your water-logged clothes and exhaustion, your whole body slumped against satoru’s strength but you still manage to rake your nails down his back as if you can’t be any closer. gojo doesn’t let your hips run from his either.  his mind races, stuck on the idea of asking you to run away with him because he can’t just let you go back to geto. not again. 
he can’t let you marry someone you’re not in love with. 
it would be selfish of him to ask you to stay, even when you wrap your legs around him and have him plug up your tiny little hole with sticky white. he sees it in your eyes how much you care for him, even through the rain. he’s ruining you, from the inside out, knocking the crown from your head and he hates it.
“daddy loves this pussy,” he wishes for the moment to last forever, but you’re already so close — crying from every hole, suffocating his throbbing cock. neither of you can hold back. “he loves you. i love you.”
the confession nearly tears your world in two — but it’s all you need to hear before everything comes crashing down on you. “i-i love you!” you tell him, wailing the words loud and proud as you release on him for a second time, gushing obscene amounts against gojo’s tummy smooshed up on your clit. “sato—! satoru! cum with me, cum inside me!” scratching down his back and screwing your eyes shut, you tilt your head up to capture his lips in a passionate kiss. 
the taste of salt on your cupid’s bow throws gojo over the edge too — his cockhead pours viscous white directly into your womb. “fuuuck, you’re so good princess…” and even though you know you should tell him to pull out, you don’t want him too. you want his baby, want his cum, want him always. even if that’s greedy of you.“fuckin’ take it…take all of me. all of that cum’s for you.” he slurs, beyond brainless.
lewd clapping noises echo between your bodies like the thunder up above as satoru fucks you through the rest of your highs, nose nudging your cheeks tenderly to soothe your tears. moaning, and crying against one another’s swollen lip. when his slow grinds come to a stop and your breathing recovers, the white haired lord gently sets you back in the ground — tenderly helping you to fix your drenched clothes back into place. 
your thighs are completely bruised and his back is completely torn up. the last marks you’ll ever leave with each other.
“so about—“
“we… we can’t do this anymore, satoru.” you say almost immediately, shaky as if you’re in the verge of panic. 
for the first time since you started doing this, sneaking off with one another, gojo notices the glint  on your ring finger. and you feel the very same weight of that ring. 
he shrugs you off, pulling up his pants and smirking. “that’s what you said last time—
“no satoru, i mean it now. we can’t.” it’s like you’ve come to your senses, realised the gravity of it all and what’s at stake. thirty days to get married, thirty days to become queen. “i’m going to become queen, your queen, in a matter of weeks and to do that i need to be married to him. i can’t mess this up. we have to stop.”
“but you don’t even want him,” he growls like a petulant child, roaring above the rain that cascades down on you both. “you want me. i want you. who gives a fuck about anything else?”
“duty gives a fuck! i have to marry him!”
throwing his hands up in defeat, satoru steps towards you, loud and intimidating, and you step back towards the tree. “you can’t even say his fucking name.” 
“his name is suguru geto and i will marry him because you forced me to.” you spit, going toe to toe with him — chest heaving but tight from your heart break. “if you and your stupid higher ups had just stayed out my way. maybe there could have been a chance for us. but they didn’t and here we are and duty freaking calls, gojo.” 
you storm off shortly after, be before he can see you cry again (for real this time). from his place hidden in the royal gardens, gojo watches sullenly as you approach your grandmother and fiancé — the elder queen disappointed in your current state and suguru clearly worried that the rain might make you catch a cold. 
the perfect alibi to cover up the fact that you’d just fucked satoru gojo. 
but the entire time, you never look back. 
you don’t even look at gojo — and  that’s how he knows you meant it. you always look back, always look for him in the crowd. 
the knowledge hits him like a strike of lightning. he’s royally fucked up — you’re marrying for the crown, all because of him. and there’s no room for loving when you’ve got the weight of the nation on your shoulders.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
9K notes · View notes
lxnarphase · 2 months
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keep it quiet ๋࣭ ⚝
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☾₊‧⁺...ft. : g. satoru + g. suguru + n. kento + h. hiromi + f. toji + k. shiu + k. choso + r. sukuna + h. kinji + t. fumihiko + t. aoi ☾₊‧⁺...cw : college au, 'we have to be quiet' trope, unprotected sex ☾₊‧⁺...synopsis + a/n : this is based off an old ask from my old account that i just HAD to redo but for the jjk men : "which of the jjk men would fuck you when visiting your parents in your childhood home?"
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who teases you the whole time ↴
g. suguru ; oh, he’s an asshole, acting like an innocent angel when in reality he’s slipped his hand into the back of your sweatpants several times today, giving your ass a squeeze when your parents weren’t looking. you nearly curse him out when he ‘squeezed past’ you, his hand on your waist pulling you against him as he makes sure you feel how hard he is through his pants. so it's no surprise when he whisks you away and has you pressed against your bedroom wall. 
“do you hear that? those dirty noises you making from me fucking you? bet you wanted this all day, didn’t you, princess?” “didn’t mean to go that deep…but might do it again, just like this. oooh, I like that noise you made, pretty girl, make it again for me.”
g. satoru ; satoru can sense you getting needy, pulling you to your bedroom the second your parents bid the two of you good night. it's technically his fault, just a few minutes before your parents said goodnight, he excused himself to the bathroom. you were confused when your phone buzzed and you saw a message from satoru, opening it just to see a picture of his hand wrapped around his dick. 
“didya plan this, baby? hm? for me to fuck you until you cream on my cock in your parents' house? so needy, my pretty little baby.” “such a whore f'me...you can’t stop thinking about my dick, look at how wet you got just from that picture. bet it feels good being stuffed with it now, right, baby?” "oooh, she's creamin' all over me, so pretty, i can't stop, can't fucking stop, so fucking pretty when you're all messy like this."
f. toji ; he acts like it’s not him who had you against the wall with his hands up your shirt and his tongue in your mouth literally seconds before your parents came back home from the store. the two of you are on edge, and the second your parents tell toji he is free from helping in the kitchen, he drags you away to your old bedroom down the hall to continue what he started. 
“you're not talkin', but fuck, you’re making so much noise down here, they’re gonna know, sweetheart.” “you gonna cum, mama? aww, pretty thing's gonna make a mess of my cock while your parents are down the hall waiting for us to come eat? fuck, do it, baby, cum all over my cock like a good girl.”
r. sukuna : it's some family get-together your parents invited you to, but you can barely focus on saying hi to everywhere with the way sukuna is draped over you, arms around your waist as he presses his hips into your ass as you talked to your parents. the moment you have the chance, you make some excuse about showing sukuna your childhood home, dragging him inside to your old bathroom. 
“you really wanted me, didn’t you? my pretty whore, sucking me back in, your squeezing me so tight.” “had to pull me away into the bathroom to fuck you stupid. tch, desperate slut." "you know your parents are literally right outside, what if they come back in? mm? come on, let me really fuck y'deep, give ya what you want.” 
h. kinji : he just wants to get on your nerves, seeing how bold you were acting in the car earlier about being your parents’ best kid, telling kinji what an angel you were in your parents’ eyes. sure, you still are the biggest sweetheart kinji has ever encountered but...little angel? oh, he couldn't wait to prove to you how that’s changed.
“’little angel’, huh? pfft, if only they knew what a slut their precious girl is. what if they walked in right now, seeing how their ‘good little angel’ is taking her boyfriend's dick like a dirty little slut?” “right there? is that where it feels good, cupcake? ohh, shit, baby, did you cum already? aww, you can keep going right?” "i know, i know, 's too much, 's too much, but you're takin' it like a champ, hun, just keep cummin' and let your man fuck you good, baby, pretty please?"
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who is loud and doesn't care ↴
t. fumihiko : if you want to keep him quiet, you better kiss him or put something in his mouth to shut him up because he’s so lost in how good you feel that he can’t keep his volume down, knowing that your parents are probably watching tv downstairs.
“i-i can’t stay quiet, ‘m sorry, if we get caught i-i’ll make up to you, just-just lemme go faster, pretty please?” “ah, i know i said one more but can’t stop, n-need to cum again!" "’s already leaking out of you, hohmygodd...g-gotta fill you again, keep you nice and full of my cum, fuuuuck, ‘m gonna cum again!”
t. aoi : it's those damn sweatpants. the second he changed when you got to your parents’ house, you can fucking see his dick print when he sits down, the way he has to spread his legs not helping. you drag him into the bathroom with the intent to fix it, just to see this motherfucker isn't wearing underwear.
“aww, bunny, ya didn’t have t' lie. if you wanted me to fuck you so bad all you had to do was ask.” “saw you starin’ at it, you're not very subtle...you happy now that 'm fucking you full, bunny? shh, don't whine, babe, 's okay.” “so loud, they're gonna know i’m about to stuff you with my cum. hey, don't cover your mouth, it's alright, i'll buy 'em somethin' to make up for it, bunny.”
k. choso : as you sit next to him at the dinner table, you can feel his leg bouncing, rubbing up against yours. you press your hand to his leg, looking at him with a concerned face when you see how choso is sweating a little, his ears pink. all it takes is one glance down for you to see he got himself worked up. 
“i know, 'm sorry, 'm so sorry, b-bad timing but i need you. i’m so fucking hard. g-god, you're just so pretty and-and i gotta fuck you, i promise i'll do it nice 'n' good, you'll love it so much, baby.” “h-huh? fuck, i knoww, g-gotta be quiet but you feel so good. can i go harder? please? i know it’ll make noise, but need to go harder, wanna cum in you, wanna fuckin' stuff your pretty cunt full of my cum, babyyy.”
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who manages to stay quiet ↴
h. hiromi : hiromi didn’t know what happened until you sat him on your bed, locking the door behind you before getting in his lap and pulling him into a deep kiss. he doesn’t know how thin the walls are so he opts to keep your lips on his so your moans don’t reach your parents in the living room.
“shhh…stay quiet, sweet girl. i know it’s a lot, but you have to be quiet.” “i can…see a little bump whenever i fucking slide back into you...god. what if i press down on it- oh fuck, don’t squeeze me like that, fuck.” “you’re squeezing me so tight, sweetheart, does it feel that good? yeah? hey, hey, shhh, come here. kiss me, don’t be too loud, kiss me when you cum.”
n. kento : kento is hushing you the whole time, not questioning the way you shook him awake while whispering his name. poor thing, he can instantly hear the desperation in your voice, the want and need to take care of you helping him wake up quicker. but your parents were above your room, so kento knows he had to keep you quiet. 
“nonono, let me take care of you darling. i don't mind, you just focus on staying quiet, i’ll make it all go away.” “mhm, i know i’m hitting your spot, angel, but you have to stay quiet. i know it feels good, i knowwwww, but stay quiet for me.” “shh, shh, you can do it, cum quietly like a good girl, i've taught you how to be a good girl, right? come on, be good, be a good girl for me, cum for me.”
k. shiu : it's 4am when he wakes you up, mumbling something about not being able to sleep. you don't even get the chance to ask him what's wrong before he pulls his pajama pants down, his cock slapping against his stomach as a thick stand of precum dripping down the base. he needs help otherwise he’ll be up all night.
"mm, angel, you're being too loud. be quiet for me, don’t need your parents hearing us.” “stop making so much noise before i fuck your mouth instead, or is that what you want?” “i should've had you like this in the first place...poor thing, always so noisy when my cock hits you this deep, right? mmn, just keep your ass up and your face in the pillow, baby, sound so pretty all muffled.”
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all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
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jeonsweetpea · 1 month
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Will It Fit?
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Roommate!AU | Roommate!Jungkook x Reader
genre: fluff, smut, comedy, lil angst, slight idiots to lovers
rating: explicit
description: So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can’t exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom…
word count: 6.7k
warnings: size kink, JK has a big dick (no, really), slight pain kink, light choking, dirty talk, Dom!JK, flustered/shy JK at first, unprotected sex (this is fiction, we all wanna be raw-dogged by JK okay), lube, JK loves OC’s panties a LOT, fingering, mentions of masturbation, OC gets embarrassed at first but JK is sweet about it, oral sex (male & female receiving), cursing, Soft Dom!JK, JK is overly concerned with how big your dildo is, embarrassing moments from both parties, spanking, prone bone, creampie, confession scenes, 
a/n: As soon as I saw JK’s OJO face from that GCF, it kicked me into gear to write this. I’ve had this idea for SO long, but never had the motivation to finish it. I was supposed to release it last winter, so hope you’re all excited for it! Asks and reblogs are much appreciated (I read them all!). Also, much love to @jkeuphoriadreamland for bouncing ideas around with me. 
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“[Y/N], I can hear you in there.” 
The muffled, disgruntled voice came from the other side of your door. Your eyes fluttered open and your hand stilled in your panties, your heart rate spiking. Maybe if you didn’t move a muscle, he’d go away. 
“I know you’re up,” he added. You rose up from your bed.
“Um… exactly what did you hear?” you squealed, face burning up at your terrible acting skills.
“Unlock this door.”
You didn't know what compelled you to saunter over and open the door a mere crack, but oh the sight before you was almost worth the humiliation. Jungkook was in nothing but gray sweats that sat dangerously low on his hips. He had a bad case of bedhead, but his locks looked so soft that you wanted nothing more than to grab onto them and make out with his beautiful lips, which were captivating you just as much as that intense gaze of his. 
“Hey… you…” you said with a meek smile, which he did not return.
“It’s 2 AM in the morning. I have work at 5. As hot as you sound, we either do something together so we both get satisfied or you let me get my rest because I am incredibly frustrated right now.”
Your eyes widened at his curt response. You’ve never seen him so tense, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek as his glare bore into you. He leaned against your door frame with one arm, leaning in close enough to make you break eye contact. He tapped on the wooden frame with his index finger, awaiting your response. 
“Sorry…” 
God, you sounded absolutely pathetic . 
“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?” Before you could respond, he let out a tsk sound and retreated back to his bedroom. You stood there in a trance until his door shut loudly, snapping you out of it. You wondered if he realized how much worse he left you than when he found you. 
Fuck, was he always this hot when mad? 
You went back to your room after closing the door. Climbing into bed, you got under the covers and laid flat on your back deep in thought. The only reason you were masturbating in the first place was because your room was freezing cold. You thought the heater was fixed, but your room was somehow still the coldest one in the apartment. You knew you’d never be able to go to sleep at this rate, so you decided to do something that would tire you out and hopefully lull you into the rest you craved.
It was supposed to be simple. You, your hand, your phone, and sweet, sweet release. Damn Jungkook for interrupting you. It’s bad enough his room was nice and toasty while you were suffering. Yeah, you heard his loudass snores. You assumed he was deep in the REM cycle so how the hell did he catch your moans? Ugh.
If he was so annoyed with you, then he should have warmed you up instead!
You shook your head and got under the covers, groaning at your lewd thoughts. 
He’s my roommate. And he’s too good of a roommate for me to fuck things up. 
“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?”
Those words echoed in your mind. The way he changed his tone to a lower register with his Busan dialect slipping through was incredibly sexy. It was the perfect mix of frustration and anger and made your thighs rub together in want. Leaning over your nightstand, you opened the drawer and grabbed a velvet drawstring bag. Slipping off your pajama shorts, you pulled out your trusty dildo. Impatient, you closed your eyes and imagined Jungkook taking you right then and there. However, the moment you allowed the tip of the dildo to touch your entrance, all pleasure was lost. It was cold!
“Damn it…” you muttered. “I gotta warm it up. Ugh!”
You left your room in frustration and entered the bathroom, turning the sink on to the hottest setting and running it over your toy. 
This might’ve been the most desperate masturbation session you’ve ever had, but you didn’t care. This was all Jungkook’s fault!
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The next morning was Saturday. You were eating your breakfast on the kitchen island while mindlessly scrolling on your phone when Jungkook came out of his room. As soon as you two locked eyes, you almost choked on your food and had to chug some water to calm down. The man, confused, ruffled his hair and watched you through drowsy eyes.
“Are you okay?” he said, followed by a yawn. 
You nodded as you beat your chest with your fist to get everything down. “Yeah… I just… didn’t expect you to be home. I thought you had work.”
“Oh,” He sounded more awake now. “I read my schedule wrong. Turns out I’m off every other Saturday now.”
“... Oh. Cool.”
He circled around the kitchen island to get to the fridge and you recalled last night’s events, mortified he had heard you. Should you apologize again? After all, you’re both two grown adults; there’s nothing to be ashamed about. If you didn’t say something now, that icky feeling would only fester inside you. 
“Hey Jungkook.”
“Yeah?” he said from behind the fridge door.
“About yesterday… I hope you can forget all about it.”
As the refrigerator door shut, you were greeted by the sight of the most adorable man sipping a carton of banana milk. His eyes were wide and brimming with curiosity from your words. 
“Did something happen yesterday? I was knocked out.”
You blinked at him twice. “Do you… not remember talking to me last night?”
“Hmm? I did? I was fast asleep, don’t remember a thing.” He took the seat next to you. “Why? What did we talk about?”
Pure relief washed over you like a tidal wave as you shook your head. “Oh, nothing much. My room’s a bit too cold. It was hard for me to sleep.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to the landlord. Do you want to sleep with me?” You shot him an incredulous look and he began to stutter. “I-I mean! Sleep in my bed! Not with me in it. Unless you wanted to—ah—fuck me!
There. That’s the Jungkook you knew. He’s never crossed the line and flirted with you, so you didn’t either out of respect. But… It was too hard to resist teasing him. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up.
“Unless I wanted to… fuck you?” you repeated innocently. This was new territory for you—teasing him. His flustered reactions were so damn adorable though. The way his nose scrunched and his eyes darted around everywhere except for your face. If anyone was watching you, they’d swore you had hearts in your eyes. 
He set his drink down and proceeded to cover his face with both hands, panicking at his poor choice of words. “That didn’t come out right. Oh god… this is embarrassing.”
You covered your mouth to stifle your giggles. “It’s okay. I don’t want to peg you—I mean, take your bed.”
Jungkook dropped his hands, speaking the next sentence in pouts. “Hey, I don’t want to be peg—not the point. No, seriously. My room’s really warm.”
“I mean… if you really want me in your room, all you have to do is ask, you know,” you remarked. Jungkook’s cheeks were flushed with a tinge of pink, adding an extra charming element to his already cute self. Were you being too bold? 
It didn’t matter because seeing how his lips trembled and how he could barely hold himself together was fun to watch.
“I didn’t realize it was that easy…” he mumbled, more to himself than you. You tilted your head at him and he noticed how you crossed one arm over another “Not that I’m calling you easy!”
“Uh huh. I’m watching you, Jeon Jungkook. Hmph.”
“No, wait. I’m sorry.”
You placed your index finger on his lips to shush him, even going so far as to tap his lip piercing teasingly. “Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?” 
You watched as his eyes widened once more and that caused you to realize what you were doing. My god. Using his own words against him was satisfying, but all this newfound confidence was going to get you in trouble. You cleared your throat and withdrew your hand, grabbing your breakfast plate and heading over to the sink before things could escalate.
“Uh… I’m gonna go to the gym. Run some errands or something,” Jungkook stammered as he got up, nearly toppling out of his stool. You bit your lip to hold in your laughter as he recomposed himself. Walking in the same direction, he flinched when you got near his proximity. “W-What are you doing?”
He’s so cute when nervous.
“Nothing. Grabbing my keys. I’m heading out too.”
“O-Okay.”
Your smile made his heart rate escalate. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”
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You spent the day with your closest friends on a brunch date, followed by a trip to the mall, and then hot cocoa in the evening. It was much needed after the week you had and after bidding them farewell, you went back to your apartment. Upon entering, you took off your shoes and put them on the shoe rack.
“Jungkook? Are you home?” you called out. 
“Yeah! I just finished showering!” he called back in the distance. You went further into the apartment and plopped down on the couch. 
“Damn,” you muttered, rubbing your arms. “Wish I could have showered with him. It’s so cold outside…”
As if on cue, Jungkook called for you again. “[Y/N]? Could you come here?”
You took off your purse and slowly rose up from the couch, hesitant. This had to be a dream. Why would he need you to come to the bathroom? He must’ve forgotten a towel. Or a t-shirt. Or pants. The specifics didn’t really matter because your hormones were going berserk at the possibilities. 
You walked through the narrow hallway and stood in front of the bathroom door, excited at the thought of teasing him again. “I’m here. What’s up? Did you forget your towel or something? Silly boy.”
The door swung open and the shit-eating grin you had on your face dropped to the floor in an instant. 
“Why is there a dildo in the bathroom, silly girl?”
Shit. Quick, say something. Anything. Don’t just stand there like a gaping fish! Oh dear, how many seconds have passed? You must look like a total idiot.
Fuck! I forgot I left it here!!!
“Well…” you started to say, “I’m assuming it’s yours.”
Out of all the things your roommate could be calling you for, this was not on your radar. The awkwardness was more suffocating than the steam from his blazing hot shower minutes ago and you wished it lingered around long enough to make you disappear. 
Jungkook made a puckered face at your accusation, picked up the object, and shook it side to side, the bendy silicone material flopping everywhere. His big doe eyes were the highlight of his classic OJO face, the blatant confusion so adorable if you weren’t absolutely mortified. For the second time this week. 
God, and how could you even focus when he was dressed in nothing but a towel, his hair still slightly damp. The bulging muscles of his biceps were a feast for the eyes as well as his tattooed sleeve. You yearned for the day he’d use his arm as your necklace, but of course that shouldn’t be a priority at the moment. If anything, it was his fault you had to use a dildo anyway.
“[Y/N], you know damn well this isn’t mine.” He met your gaze and flashed you a soft smile, biting his lower lip. “I like mine bigger.”
You covered your face in shame, wishing the floor could open up and swallow you whole. “Good god, Jeon.”
“You still didn’t answer my question. Why is it in the bathroom?”
You gulped, finding enough strength to not die of embarrassment. “It’s getting colder outside and the heater doesn’t reach my room as well as it reaches yours. So…”
“Yeah…? But I’m not following.”
“The… thing in your hand—”
“Dildo?”
You visibly cringed. “Yes, okay, THAT. It got cold and I don’t like cold objects... Inside me. So I took it to the bathroom to run hot water on it to warm it up.”
“Before you use it?”
“No, to melt it. Yes, to use it!” you snapped, feeling the humiliation burning through your body. “I wasn’t aware you weren’t working today, remember? I clean it after each use so please just give it back!”
You ran over to yank it out of his hands, but he lifted it up high out of your reach. While cackling. That motherfucker. “Hey, maybe I want a turn.”
You had to bite back. “I knew you liked being pegged.”
“I do not!”
“Then give it back!”
“This thing is huge though. It fits?”
“I’m not having this conversation with you right now.” You jumped up but failed to reach it due to his quick reflexes. 
“Doesn’t it hurt? Because if something this big went up my—”
“Jungkook!”
“I’m just saying!” he said with his arms up in the air like you were about to tase him. “I find it hard to believe, that’s all. It’s really big. Like damn.”
Without thinking, you ripped his towel off his waist and he gasped, scrambling to shield his privates while you seized the opportunity to get your toy back.
You stormed out of the bathroom and ran to your room, locking the door afterwards. Falling to your knees, the embarrassment caught up to you, causing you to hang your head low in shame. You could hear the soft shuffling sounds of his footsteps approaching your door, followed by a gentle knock.
“[Y/N]? Are you okay?” He pressed his ear against the door to hear small sniffles. “Shit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you upset. I was teasing, I thought you wanted to tease me back and—I guess I took it too far.”
“Go away, Jeon,” you said, throwing the dildo at the door. Jungkook nearly had a heart attack at the loud thump and jolted back, clutching his chest. 
“Holy shit, that scared me,” he said, which earned a small chuckle from you despite the tears. “Hey… come on out. Please. I’m not judging you.”
“No. I’m humiliated. You heard me yesterday and now caught me today. I can’t face you ever again. It’s over!”
He placed a hand on your door, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “I didn’t even know we started, so how could we be over? You’re cute.”
That made you snap your head up. You quickly wiped away your tears and rose from the floor. “This isn’t fair… I’ve been embarrassed twice now.”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“You heard me masturbating yesterday!” you exclaimed, frustrated at his obliviousness. “You woke up and told me I had pretty lips or whatever and suggested we do something about it together!”
“I mean, you do have pretty lips. Yup. That sounds like me, yeah,” he said, nodding to himself. “But I really don’t remember. Come on out. I wanna see you.”
“No.”
“Would it help if I shared something embarrassing about me?”
You narrowed your eyes at the door, considering his offer. “... Go on…”
He sighed, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Well… you know how I’ve been doing your laundry for you?” 
“Yeah…”
It was your most hated chore. Putting the clothes into the washer and dryer wasn’t your issue, but folding them was so tedious. So you and him made a deal. You were in charge of dishes and he would do the laundry. However, the one thing you refused to let Jungkook wash for you were your bras and panties. Those you handled yourself.
“You… left a pair of panties in my basket once by mistake.”
“I did?”
“Yeah. I washed them for you but um… before that, I might’ve… sort’ve… jerked off with them.”
Your doorknob jostled for a second as you unlocked it. Jungkook waited as the door swung open and was greeted by a displeased you, hands on your hips and all.  
“What? They were really pretty…” he added. “They were pink and had lace—”
“You… PERVERT!” you shouted, hitting his chest repeatedly. Of course, you were aware your feeble punches did nothing to his insanely toned pecs. Jungkook stared at you fondly, catching the hint of a smile that threatened to spill from your lips. 
“Oh, I’m a pervert? Says the girl who has an 8-inch dildo,” he countered, snatching both your wrists. 
“At least I’m able to take 8-inches!” you retorted, laughing at the situation. He joined in your laughter and then said,
“Good! That means you’ll be able to handle me!”
Your brain fizzled out at this point as the laughter subsided. “... What?”
Jungkook’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he gulped. “... You heard me. Go ahead, take off my towel again. See for yourself.”
He guided your hands downward to the soft fabric, which was already on the verge of unraveling itself with his prior movements. You stared at his pelvic lines, excitement bubbling beneath the surface while you tried your best to maintain a calm expression. 
“... Pervert,” you mumbled. Jungkook chuckled, taking one of your hands and placing it directly on his boner. 
“Maybe. But only you can make me feel this way.”
You bit your lip, feeling the heat radiating from beneath the fabric and your curiosity peaked. Tucking a finger into the towel, you pulled it down and let it fall to the ground. 
A loud squeal came from your lips as you covered your mouth. “Holy shit!”
Jungkook covered himself after seeing your reaction with both hands, embarrassment crawling up his spine. “Sorry, I’ll put it away.”
“No, no, no!” you said, putting your hands out in a stop motion. “Sorry, I just… you… you weren’t kidding.”
“Does it scare you?” His tone was sincere, his eyes genuinely showing concern. “Because… I don’t want to hurt you. And I know it can hurt. That’s why I was so curious about the dildo. Will it fit? Will I fit…?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at how he phrased it, but quickly stopped when you noticed the fear in his eyes. Your thoughts wandered to if he had slept with someone prior and if it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Truth be told, you’ve never been with anyone as big as him so it’s all new for you.
“Well… if I’m prepared well enough, I can take it. The dildo fits but sometimes not all of it goes in. Um… man, this is embarrassing to talk about, ahhh. I feel like I keep making a fool of myself in front of you.”
Jungkook’s gaze softened at your vulnerability, taking your hand and placing it on his chest. His heart was beating just as rapidly as yours if not more. Then he put his other hand on the small of your back, pulling you close. 
“That makes two of us. But you make me crazy.”
He was so close that your senses were intoxicated with the fresh scent of eucalyptus and cotton wafting off him. His eyes shifted to your lips for a split second before meeting your gaze once more. 
“I really want to kiss these pretty lips of yours… If you’ll let me,” he said, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb and whispering the last part.
You begged him to kiss you already, so he leaned in and finally pressed his warm lips against yours as you closed your eyes. It started off as a gentle smooch, like a little tease to test the waters. When he pulled back, you leaned forward and chased his lips urgently. You felt him smiling into the kiss as he moved in tandem with you, deepening the kiss while switching positions to press you against a wall. One of his hands pinned your wrists above your head while his free hand slithered down the side of your body until it rested on your hip, giving you a firm squeeze.
“Jung—mmph—Jungkook…” you moaned. He used that chance to ease his tongue into your mouth and the kiss went from passionate to messy. When you moved your wrists in the slightest, he asserted dominance and pinned them back down into place. 
“You think I’m going to let you go so easily now that I have you?” he asked, the hunger in his voice evident. He carefully tugged your bottom lip in between his teeth and pulled it back in a seductive motion, which turned you on even more. 
Once he broke the kiss, the only thing that remained was a string of saliva that broke seconds later.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he said in between pants.
“Since you’ve jerked off to my panties?” you teased while catching your breath.
He rolled his eyes. “Like you’ve never rubbed one out to me before.”
You scrunched up your nose at his response, unable to counteract his statement right away. “Hey… I wouldn’t have had to rub one out if you warmed me up in this cold weather.”
He smirked. “All you had to do was ask, you know.”
Releasing your hands, Jungkook went into your room and grabbed the dildo off the floor. He left you for a short moment and you waited there, confused, until you heard the sound of running water. He came back a minute later and then grabbed your hand, leading you to his bedroom.
“Had to wash it. Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up properly for the real thing.”
He guided you to his bed and helped you remove your jacket, blouse, and leggings. His grin was extra toothy because the set you were wearing was the exact set he jerked off too before. 
“What?” you asked, amused.
“N-Nothing.”
When your back was turned for a second, he mouthed the words ‘Oh my god’ and pressed his hands together as if thanking the universe for this very moment.
Now left in your bra and panties, you laid on his bed and he climbed on top of you, his lips latching onto the side of your neck. You mewled at the sizzling contact, pulling him close by his soft locks so that his hot skin was pressed against yours. He trailed his searing kisses down to your collarbone and then settled between the valley of your breasts. 
“The bra is pretty… you’re so pretty,” he said, full of admiration. He pulled one of the cups down to gain access to your breasts, capturing your perky nipple between his lips. He sucked tenderly, swirling his tongue around before tugging on it hard enough to elicit a moan. His other hand was greedy, slithering into your already soaked panties. His middle finger dipped in between your folds and he rubbed in circular motions to coax some more slick out of you. 
As you arched your back and moaned his name, he dipped one finger into you and began to pump it slowly. He added another one when you begged for it, sounding so desperate that he had to oblige. 
“Please fuck me already. I can’t take it,” you breathed. Jungkook only curled his fingers deeper inside, grazing your sweet spot while shaking his head. 
“Patience, beautiful. I need to make sure your sweet pussy can take it, remember? Gotta prep you well.”
“But I can take it, I can, oh god please.” 
“If you’re a good girl for me. Can you take another finger?”
You nodded eagerly, so he added a third finger and you squeezed your eyes shut from the delicious burn. 
“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, observing your expressions carefully. You clutched onto the pillow and panted heavily. 
“Y-Yeah, I—god—your fingers feel good…”
He began to finger you with all three digits, the tightness of your walls bringing some resistance to his actions. But with a few more neck kisses to relax you, it became easier and you became more undone. 
“You’re doing so well,” he whispered into your ear, his heavy breath tickling it. He finally removed his fingers and grabbed the dildo at the end of the bed, bringing up to your lips. 
“Show me what those pretty lips of yours can do.”
You stuck out your tongue and licked a long stripe on the toy in a tantalizing slow motion, causing Jungkook to grunt. That damn smile of yours was going to kill him. You were the perfect minx—sweet and naughty. He didn’t have to tell you to suck it because you already were. 
“Such a good girl. You’re going to handle my cock so well.”
He removed the dildo out of your mouth and reached into his nightstand to pull out a bottle of lube. You stared at it like it was foreign to you and Jungkook was quick to notice.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I can take it. I know it.”
He chuckled, admiring your determination. “Still, I want to take my time.  Besides… it’s not every day I get to fuck someone so beautiful.”
He popped open the cap and squeezed a decent amount of lube onto the toy. Then he got back in between your legs and slowly began to insert it into you. You squirmed from the slippery, cold contact but Jungkook captured your lips into a deep kiss, igniting your body with fervor. 
He thrusted the dildo as deep as he could, stopping when there was resistance from your panties. Which you were more than thankful for because you already felt full. But then he began to pump it in and out of you at a steady pace, only accelerating when your moans became more constant. 
“Shit, shit,that feels so—“ Your words were swallowed by his lips and that stirred something within you, allowing Jungkook to easily glide the toy back and forth. He soon increased his speed, the obscene sounds your pussy was making the only thing that could be heard in the room. 
You broke away from the kiss and began tearing up from the intensity. 
“J-Jungkook, I think—“
You couldn’t, actually. Your orgasm crept up on you and made your entire body convulse. You shut your eyes to only see white, your ears were ringing, and your pussy surrendered to the pleasure. 
Jungkook removed the toy out of you gently and then kissed your sweaty forehead, giving you a bunny-tooth smile as you calmed down from your high. 
“Did you cum?”
You smacked his arm playfully. “Did I cum… pfft. No, actually. I’m waiting for a real man to make me cum. With a fat cock.”
“Well not to toot my own horn but…” He grinded his swollen cock against your thigh. “I think I meet the requirements.”
Now that things slowed down, this was the first time you really got to look at his cock properly. He wasn’t kidding about needing to prep you. It was as big as your dildo but much more girthier. It was a mouth-watering sight. 
Flipping the switch, you got on top of Jungkook this time. His eyes widened in surprise but then eased into a smile. You leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. 
“Let me take care of you now.”
“But I want to fuck you so bad.”
“You can wait, darling. My pussy is yours.”
His dick twitched at that. You giggled as you got in between his thighs, stroking his member a few times to hear those cute, breathy moans of his. 
Will it fit…? God, I hope so.
“Are you afraid you can’t take it?” Jungkook asked with concern. Shit. Did you say that out loud???
“I can. I will.”
“We don’t have to if you don’t—“
“Jungkook,” you said, squeezing his dick tightly, almost like a warning. “I can take it like a good girl. And if not, I’ll tell you. Okay?”
He closed his eyes and nodded as you began to suck him off. There was no way you could take all of him in your mouth but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try. You went as far as you could and stopped when your gag reflex kicked in. Using your hand to stroke the area you couldn’t reach, you swirled your tongue and bobbed your head up and down. 
Jungkook’s abs clenched and unclenched at the action and he rested on his elbows to watch you. The way your bra cupped your breasts at this angle was enticing, your pretty lips working so hard to please him, and the view of your ass in those panties could make him cum right then and there. 
“Fuck, you’re so good at this—don’t stop.”
You smiled at the praise and continued, loving how he took a sharp inhale of breath when you cupped his balls. He put his hand on your head and pushed you down gently, not wanting to overdo it with his size. You controlled the pace, but he just wanted to touch you and admire you. 
“You’re too good to me…” 
You released his dick with a satisfying pop sound, kissing the tip and smiling. “Teach me what you like.”
“I love everything you do,” he said, grunting when you began stroking him again from the base to the tip. “Your hands are so much softer than mine.”
You stopped momentarily to spit on your hand before resuming your lewd actions and he threw his head back. 
“Fuck [Y/N]. That’s so hot.”
“Yeah? Have I been a good girl? Are you going to reward me?” He snatched your wrist, his eyes darkened and full of lust. 
“Can you handle it?”
You turned around on all fours, shaking your ass side to side to tempt him. “Take me, baby. Raw.”
His OJO face returned from your bold suggestion and you flashed him a wink. 
“I’m on the pill. Promise,” you informed. 
A burst of energy surged within him as he grabbed the bottle of lube and hurriedly squeezed some onto his cock. You giggled when he squirted a bit too much, haphazardly trying to divide it between two hands and spreading it evenly. But things turned serious when he grabbed your hips, yanking you closer to him.
He pulled your panties to the side and ate you out from behind first, loving how delicious your backside looked with them on. You moaned in delight and he placed a hand on your upper back, forcing your face down into the mattress. His tongue dipped into your folds and he flicked it on your clit a few times, loving the whiny sounds you were making. Then he pressed his entire mouth onto your pussy and sucked hard. 
You were overwhelmed with pleasure and were on the verge of cumming when he removed his mouth and replaced it with something else.
“Are you ready?” He teased his tip at your leaking entrance and you shuddered. 
“Yes, please fuck me.”
“Breathe baby. Relax as much as you can.”
You obeyed, feeling him push himself into you smoothly, knowing he prepped you more than enough. At least, that’s what you thought until he got in halfway. From there on, it felt like he was invading your walls and stretching you to new limits. 
There was a mild discomfort and Jungkook kissed your back lovingly to relax your tense muscles. You sighed and allowed him to bottom out, feeling the wind knock out of you when he did. 
“God!” you shouted, fisting his bedsheets. 
“F-Fuck… you feel amazing I—can I move? Does it hurt?”
“It doesn’t hurt… I just feel really full.”
“Okay,” he said in a restrained voice. “I’ll go slow.”
He gripped your hips tightly, like he needed something else to focus on or else he’d lose control and fuck the living daylights out of you. He eased himself out of you but only half way, wanting to savor your warmth a bit longer. Then he pushed himself back into you, making sure to go as slow as possible.
“Your ass looks amazing in these. You should wear them again.”
Your heart fluttered at the thought of doing this with him again. “Maybe if you spank me.”
He stilled his hips. “You really want me to?”
You began rocking your ass back and forth on his cock. “Yeah. I’m not that fragile… I can take it rough when I want to.” You swore you felt his cock twitch at this. “Hmm, looks like that excited you. You wanna fuck me rough, Jeon?”
He delivered a spank on your cheek, the sensation sending waves of pain and pleasure through your body. Your pussy tightened from this and it made Jungkook hiss. He spanked the other cheek and then both cheeks and you moaned, the slight pain distracting you from the girth of his big cock. 
“You think you’re in a position to be a brat?” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you up so you were on all fours again. Laying on top of your back, he whispered in your ear, “Do you know how badly I want to fucking ruin you?”
He bit the shell of your ear and you let out a content sigh as he slowly thrusted in and out of you. 
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he reminded you. “But god, you feel so good. So tight. So slippery and wet. I just wanna have my way with you.”
You couldn’t wait anymore. “Please do. Make my pussy remember the shape of your cock. It’s yours to wreck.”
Jungkook got off your back and grabbed a nice fistful of your hair into a makeshift ponytail, forcing your head up as he thrusted into you to the hilt. That feeling of being full hit you full force and you submitted, letting him rock his hips back and forth to the pace he deemed fit. He undid your bra with his free hand, letting the undergarment fall onto the bed as he cupped one breast.
Your moans came out unashamed and full of whiny desperation. The intensity was becoming too much, but it felt too good to stop. There was no more discomfort, only lust and the desire to be fucked so hard that it had your eyes rolling. And Jungkook was more than willing to deliver.
He then grabbed a nearby pillow and placed it under your stomach, pushing your back down until you laid flat. 
“I’m not sure, but I read this makes things feel better on Reddit,” he explained quickly as he helped remove your panties. “But let me know if you want me to stop.”
You’re smitten by the fact he cared this much about you but also trying hard not to laugh at how he admitted to going to Reddit for sex advice. He was too precious.
“I will.”
With your ass propped up higher thanks to the elevation of the pillow, Jungkook eased into you once more and you bit into your pillow. He started to slam his hips into you, gripping onto the headboard to steady himself. 
“Fuck!” you said through gritted teeth. 
“Am I going too fast?” he breathed, slowing down his thrusts.
“No, it’s okay. I want it. I want you.”
Your words unleashed his primal urges to finally give it to you. He shoved his cock deep inside you, each thrust making your ass jiggle, the sight so unbelievably sexy that he had to spank you again.
“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me harder!” you shouted. Jungkook laid on top of you, wrapping his bicep around your neck and planted a kiss on your cheek as he fucked you harder. You begged him to choke you and he obliged, squeezing your neck just enough to make you slightly dizzy. 
It was euphoric having that slight danger while being used for his pleasure. Your pussy tightened so much that Jungkook felt he was going to cum. 
He slowed the roll of his hips and then pulled out, quickly flipping you onto your back. Thanks to the pillow from earlier, your hips were propped up at the perfect height. 
“Spread your legs for me. Wider. Hold them open.”
You were so drunk on lust that you did everything he asked. He held onto your thighs and inserted his cock into you again, the new angle making your moans come out strangulated. He was so huge, you swore his tip was brushing against your cervix. Picking up the pace gradually, you took the abuse of his fat cock and screamed at how good it felt. 
“I can’t get enough of you,” Jungkook said through pants, wrapping a hand around the column of your neck. “I’m gonna cum.”
His hips began to stutter and you felt your pussy growing sore from the stretch. Anymore and you’d be in tears. You wanted to cum too, so you snuck your hand down to your clit and rubbed in circular motions. Jungkook used the last remaining bits of strength to fuck you for a few more minutes, which was more than enough for you to reach your climax. 
Cumming a second time was more painful than the first time due to the over sensitivity. But somehow it was more enjoyable because you had never felt something so intense. Jungkook kept coaxing you with sweet words, promising he was almost finished. 
He rutted into you for the last few seconds, counting 3, 2, 1 before spilling his seed inside you. His body laid on top of yours, the two of you sticky and sweaty but it was comforting just being in his embrace. 
“Jungkook?” 
“Yeah?”
“Get off. We gotta pee.”
He laughed at your serious tone. “I think I need another shower. Care to join me?”
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Your roommate literally just fucked your brains out 5 minutes ago. Why were you feeling self-conscious in the shower with him? It didn’t make sense!
With the hot water on, you took a deep breath before feeling a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. 
“Questions, comments, concerns?”
Oh my god, you had to marry this man. “Um… I think I’ll be sore for the next few days.”
“I’m sorry.
“Don’t be. I enjoyed it a lot.”
He turned you around, so that you were facing him. “Enough to do it again?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Tonight?”
“W-Well… I mean—“
Look at him fumbling over his words. Adorable. “You’re such a pervert.”
“I can’t help it. You turn me on.”
You covered your chest, feeling shy. “Is that all I’m good for…?”
He immediately understood what you meant. “Of course not. Look at me,” he said while tilting your chin up. “Don’t you know how I feel about you?”
Your lips curled into a smile. “Well I learned today that you jerked off to my panties and you count down before you cum.”
You couldn’t help but explode into laughter at his OJO face when he heard you say that. 
“Hey! I do it to let you know when it’s coming!”
“Yes sir,” you teased with a salute. “I appreciate your punctuality, sir!”
“Oh my god, you’re so cheeky.” He hugged you again and booped his nose into yours. “I like you. You know, when a boy likes a girl and they go out on a date and then—oh shit, I did things backwards.”
You giggled. “I think I prefer it this way. I like you too. I’ve… liked you for a long time.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because! I didn’t want to make things awkward. But I guess things ended up being awkward anyway…”
“Because you were masturbating to me?” 
He had such a proud smile on his face. 
“Whatever! Panty thief!”
“You left them there.”
“You should’ve told me!”
“I did!”
“After you had your fun! You are so—”
He gave you a surprise peck on the cheek to distract you. 
“Awesome?” He smooched you again. And again. You couldn’t help but giggle. 
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“Mmhmm. So… do you want to stay in my room tonight?”
“As long as you warm me up.”
“Oh, for sure. I’m great at that.”
“Because of experience or Reddit?”
There was his OJO face again. “Hey~!”
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I truly hope you enjoyed the fic! Thank you for giving my writing a chance. :) Also I have an AO3 if you're more comfortable commenting there. Thanks!
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yandere-daydreams · 2 months
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Title: In The Serpent's Den.
Pairing: Yandere!Suguru x Reader (JJK).
Word Count: 4.7k.
TW: Non/Con, Hybrid AU, AFAB!Reader, Cobra!Suguru, Rabbit!Reader, Biting, Aphrodisiacs, Heat Cycles, Oviposition, Manipulation, Biting, Breeding Kinks, and Predator/Prey Dynamics.
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“It’s time to come out, little rabbit.”
 His tone was sickly sweet, lulled into something saccharine and tempting, only slightly distorted by the uncommon shape of his tongue. Despite his melodic coaxing, you curled further into yourself – pulling your thighs flush to your chest and burying your knees in your face, doing your best not to breathe, not to cry, not to make a sound. The temptation to uncurl yourself entirely and run, run, run until you found somewhere small and dark and safe gnawed on the back of your mind, but it never would’ve worked. You were in Suguru’s enclosure, Suguru’s territory, and there was nowhere to run where he wouldn’t be able to follow.
“I’m losing my patience, little rabbit. If you come out now, I promise I’ll try to hold myself back.”
Why was he even looking for you? It’d been weeks since his eccentric, white-haired owner forced you into the sprawling greenhouse that made up Suguru’s enclosure, and he’d never paid you a second glance. You did your best to avoid him, to make sure you never crossed his path while he was prowling for a meal. You could count the number of times he’d acknowledged you on a single hand, and he’d never so much as lunged at you. You couldn’t imagine why he’d decided you’d make a good meal now, after weeks of relatively peaceful cohabitation. Maybe he’d gotten tired of keeping you around, of having to share his territory with another hybrid – one so far below him on the food chain. Maybe, this was just the first time he’d gotten hungry enough to hunt you down.
You heard branches shift, twigs break, and instantly, all of your thoughts (rational and otherwise) were replaced with a frantic, buzzing static. “You’re only making this worse for yourself,” Suguru went on, and his voice was too loud, too close. You’d tucked yourself into the densest patch of foliage you could find, but your white ears and cottony tail stood out like blood on snow against the vivid greens and blacks of the flora. Suddenly, trying to hide at all felt stupid. Rabbits weren’t supposed to hide. Rabbits were supposed to die and get eaten by the big, mean snakes who preyed on them. “I’m going to find you, and when I do, you’re only going to be sorry you made me wait as long as I have.”
You could hear the dull drag of scales moving over rough stone, the ebbing ‘hiss’ that formed a slight lisp at the end of each sentence. You raised your head just far enough to see a large, black shape move in front of you, and something buried deep inside of you cracked and spilled open.
Running wasn’t a choice – it was the only option. You were on your feet in a second, sprinting deeper into the greenhouse in another. The direction didn’t matter. As long as you got away from him, nothing else mattered.
Blindly, you vaulted over fallen branches and overgrown roots, rotting leaf litter threatening to steal your balance as you veered away from the beaten path and threw yourself into the tangled wilderness. If Suguru was chasing you, you couldn’t hear him – the world little more than a blur of color and your own racing pulse. You just needed to find somewhere better to hide, somewhere he’d forgotten. A tunnel, or a tree hollow, or a cave dark enough to hide your snowy pelt from prying eyes. You just needed to—
 Your trek came to an abrupt end as your collided with a pane of thick, emerald-tinted glass and were sent crashing to the ground. It took you a second to process what you’d run into – the wall of the greenhouse, the edge of Suguru’s enclosure – and another to remember that you weren’t in the wilderness, anymore, that you wouldn’t find a tunnel or a cave or anywhere else to hide that hadn’t been created deliberately to trick animals like you into to think they were safe. You might’ve cried, if you hadn’t been so desperate. You might’ve gone looking for Suguru yourself, if you hadn’t been too scared to remember what it meant to be caged.
Fighting back tears, you started to scramble onto your feet, but it was already too late. There was no sound, no warning, just a sudden pressure against your back and an agonizing pain burrowed into the side of your throat. His fangs were planted in your neck before you could so much as scream, his strong tail wrapped around your legs and his arms crossed over your midriff, keeping your body locked against his as he pinned you to the ground. You expected his venom to burn, to be able to feel death as it flooded into your veins, but instead, there was only a slight numbing sensation around the point of insertion, a distant fog over your senses that might’ve just been your own fading adrenaline. If anything, you felt…
You felt warm.
Suguru took his time pulling away, his ribbon-like tongue flickering over the skin of your throat before he lifted his head. You weren’t facing him, one of your cheeks pressed into the dirt, but you could just barely see him out of the corner of your eye, make out the dark hair tucked behind his shoulders, the pitch-black scales littered over his face, his chest. You knew he was a snake, but you thought you might’ve heard his owner call him something else, once or twice. A ‘cobra’, maybe, but you’d never met a cobra before. You felt safer thinking of him as a snake.
He opened his mouth, but you were already babbling. Trying not to cry had been useless. Tears poured down your cheeks unabashedly, blurring your vision and making it that much harder to spit something coherent out. “P-please don’t eat me – I’m really small for a rabbit, and I promise I won’t taste very good, and I—”
“Quiet, little rabbit.” You’d been wrong, before. You didn’t feel warm, no, you felt hot – something deep inside of you beginning to smolder at the sound of his voice. Immediately, you shut your mouth, and he rewarded you with a raspy chuckle. “You thought I was going to… to eat you?” You nodded stiltedly, and he went on. “Ah, no wonder you were so afraid. And here I thought my timid little bunny just didn’t like me very much.”
“…’m sorry.” You must’ve run farther than you realized. A few minutes of sprinting shouldn’t have left you this breathless, this dazed. “You… You aren’t going to eat me?”
“No, bunny. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“But, you bit—”
“I gave you a present.” Another dry chuckle, his tongue flitting over the back of your neck. “Just a little something to make sure you wouldn’t be so shy. You should already be feeling better.”
You weren’t sure that you felt better, but you didn’t feel scared, either. A different feeling had taken the place of your fear – the sensation viscous and churning and prone sending pangs of dull, burning pain to the pit of your stomach. You had to make a conscious effort to move your lips, and even then, it was hard to get any sound past your suddenly dry throat. Suguru waited patiently, seemingly more than happy to watch you stumble over your own tongue. “It’s really warm,” you managed, eventually. “I think I might be… tired?”
“Oh, of course. I forgot how easy it is for prey animals to wear themselves out. I’ll take you back to my nest, where you’ll be able to rest safely.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded eagerly. Safe. You wanted to be safe. You couldn’t remember what you needed to be safe from anymore, though.
He uncurled, but didn’t pull away from you. Rather, your smaller body was pulled against his broad chest as he took you in his arms and carried you through the greenhouse. His destination was a raised loft – set above the wild foliage of his enclosure, accessible only by a sparsely wrung ladder you never would’ve had a hope of climbing on your own. His nest wasn’t at all like a rabbit’s nest, either. Rather than a deep, dark tunnel padded with fur and leaves, he’d taken you to a mess of tangled roots and woven blankets, all piled onto one another to form a box-like bed. Your form, limper than you would’ve liked it to be, was laid on a relatively soft patch, and Suguru positioned himself above you; upper body supported by his forearms, his never-ending tail taking up whatever space you left unoccupied. You wanted to sleep, to do what he said you should, but he was still touching you – dragging a single, clawed finger down your chest and over your midriff, only pausing at your waist to draw slow, swirling patterns into your hip. “My venom has a unique side-effect, you know,” he muttered, his voice low and soothing, the tapered tip of his tail lashing from side to side as he spoke. “A full dose would be fatal. It’d be fast, too – a few seconds of screaming, a few seconds of twitching, and then—” He paused, clicked his tongue. “—dead, just like that. It’s a little anti-climactic, to be honest.”
Something deep inside of you began to throb. You shrunk into yourself, trying to relieve the pulsing ache, but Suguru mistook your agony for fear. “In controlled portions,” he continued, splaying his open palm over your hip. “The symptoms are much more pronounced. Humans tend to get all feverish and clumsy, but hybrids—”
Again, he paused. His hand drifted lower – first to your thigh, then your cunt. You didn’t realize you were dripping until his cold fingertips skirted over your slit, gathering up the slick already staining the inside of your thighs.
“Hybrids go into heat.”
A cold wave of dread washed over you, and Suguru’s smile widened.
“…heat?”
“Heat, little rabbit.”
His hand lingered on your pussy, two of his massive fingers splitting apart your lips and making room for his tongue to lap gingerly over your entrance. The sensation was strange – not good and not bad, a little ticklish – but your hips bucked as it flickered over your clit. You knew better than to get so close to a snake’s mouth, but you couldn’t seem to move, to think about anything but getting closer, closer to anything that could touch and poke and lick you. “Is heat—” You started, only to be cut off by a cracked whimper as the throbbing in your core intensified. “Is it supposed to hurt?”
“Only for a while.” His deep voice reverberated against your cunt, and you couldn’t stop yourself; attempting to rock your hips against his mouth with a high-pitched whine. It was embarrassing to be so needy, so desperate, but Suguru didn’t seem to mind, only ghosting his lips over the inside of your thigh as he pushed you back down. “But, you’ll need a mate to help you through it. Do you want a mate?”
“Y-Yes! Mate!” You’d never felt this empty, before. It was a little like hunger, but not as jagged, not as desolate. It was more of an absence than anything more tangible; a total and complete vacancy that had to be filled. You tried to roll onto your stomach, to scramble onto your hands and knees and present yourself, but Suguru held you in place with minimal effort. Your protest came in the form of a drawn-out whine, a waving sound Suguru mocked with a low coo and an airy laugh. “Please, please, it hurts, Suguru, I can’t— I need—”
“You need cock,” he finished, his tone one of pure, undeniable satisfaction. With a sigh, he picked himself up, straightening his back and towering above you. You felt saliva pool at the bottom of your mouth as the junction between his upper body and his tail came into view – pale skin slowly giving way to ebony scales, the sculpted muscle of his chest meeting the plated armor below his hips. His hand fell away from you, but you couldn’t mourn the loss of contact, not when your attention was so fixated on the thin, almost invisible slit just below his pubic bone. His fingertips slipped shallowly inside of it, and his gaze shifted back to you. “Come, little bunny. I think you’ve earned another treat.”
The encouragement was appreciated, but unnecessary. You were already crawling towards him, your limbs uncooperative and your movements jolting but your resolve absolute. There was still a throbbing emptiness inside of you, getting worse and more demanding with each neglectful second, but all you could think about was settling onto your knees in front of Suguru and drooling at the sight of his fluttering slit. You weren’t sure what to do, whether to use your hands or your mouth, but Suguru didn’t leave much time for indecision. His free hand found its way to the back of your head, nudging you forward until your mouth was pressed against his slit, just starting to leak thick trails of translucent slick over his dark scales. Your tongue darted past your lips hesitantly, at first, but your trepidation didn’t last very long. It couldn’t, not when you had a hollow pit inside of you still begging to be filled.
Suguru’s fingers carded through your hair as you lapped and sucked at his slit. The taste was mildly acidic, but surprisingly sweet – your eyes quickly falling shut as you sank into a pattern of wet sounds and strange textures and point claws grazing over your scalp, scratching at your ears. Throaty moans (the loudest noise you would ever hear Suguru make, in hindsight) and mumbled praise trickled past his lips as you worked, letting you know that he liked the way you were curling your tongue, that the spongy spot you could just barely reach inside of him was particularly sensitive. It wasn’t long before a mix of your saliva and his arousal dripped past the corners of your mouth, before the end of his tail was lashing violently within the confines of his nest. Maybe Suguru was in heat, too. You hoped he was. You didn’t want to be the only one in so much pain.
You felt the tapered tip of something smooth and stiff against your tongue, and Suguru buckled forward, a ragged gasp tearing past his lips as he took your head in both hands and pressed you flush against his abdomen. Confused and panicked, you tried to pull away, but his grip was iron-clad and it was all you could do to whimper, to sit there helplessly while something filled your mouth – hard and ridged and hot enough to burn. Cock, the pulsing in your core filled in, but it couldn’t be. Suguru had made it sound like something you needed, something you were supposed to want, but you didn’t like the way the blunt head prodded at the back of your throat, the way the ridged underside ground against your tongue. For the first time since he’d caught you, your instincts agreed with your better judgement, both urging you to get away, to run, to put distance between yourself and this newfound threat.
Your pussy, though, couldn’t seem to do anything but chant mate, mate, mate.
You could feel something else, too – not in your mouth, but pressing into your chin, your throat. Reflexively, your hands shot up, wrapping around the thick intruder, and this time, Suguru let go of you entirely, biting back a half-choked groan as he pushed you away, leaving you sprawled out and alone in the center of his nest. The hollowness inside of you was nearly unbearable, and rubbing your thighs together only seemed to make it worse. You tried to look to Suguru, to ask him to do something, but instead, your eyes caught on the long, pale appendage pressed into his lower stomach. His cock. Or, his cocks, you guessed.
You hadn’t expected there to be two of them.
You hadn’t expected them to be so big, either. Even at a distance, it was clear they weren’t meant for a rabbit. Just one would’ve been more than you could handle – as long as your forearm, as thick as your wrist, the end tapered to a steep point but the base absolutely massive before they disappeared into his slit. The color was strange, too – the tip flushed a dull pink while the base was nearly as dark as his scales, creating an ombre that might’ve been pretty, if you weren’t so terrified. You couldn’t see any veins, but both were sculpted with pronounced, perfectly spaced ridges. You couldn’t imagine having something like that inside of you, but you couldn’t imagine not having anything inside of you, either.
You couldn’t be sure how long you spent staring up at him, trying to wrap your head around his size, trying to decide if you’d rather be torn apart by his cock or your own increasingly demanding needs. In the end, it wasn’t really your choice to make. His eyes darted from your clenched thighs to your heaving chest to yours, wide and watery, and a grin found its way back to his lips. For some reason, his smile wasn’t as comforting as it’d been, the first time you saw it. “I’m sorry, little rabbit. Did I startle you?” The tenderness in his voice was almost cloying. You didn’t move, didn’t respond, but he didn’t seem to need you to. “I didn’t mean to. Why don’t you spread your legs nice n’ wide for me, and I’ll make it up to you?”
Your gaze fell back to his cocks. One of his fists had wrapped around both, pumping idly while he stood above you. “Are those supposed to…?” You trailed off, shrinking into yourself. Suguru hummed, and you took it as confirmation. “But you’ll only use one, right? I don’t think I can— I mean, it won’t fit if you—”
“Really? I could’ve sworn you were begging to be fucked properly just a few minutes ago.” You stiffened, but he only laughed. “Fine, fine. If that’s what you think you want, I’ll only use one.”
You didn’t think you could trust him, but you could feel yourself getting hot, again, a haze forming over your mind. You could leave when he was finished, you figured, even if you weren’t entirely sure how to get out of his nest, or where to go once you’d escaped back into the greenhouse. After you got over your— your heat.
Hesitantly, you started to listen to the negging mantra still playing in the back of your mind, to obey the near-deafening voice in the back of your head urging you to get on your hands and knees and make him fuck you, but Suguru must’ve decided you weren’t moving fast enough. His tail shifted underneath you, a thick coil catching your side and leaving you bent over one of the thicker lengths, your stomach pressed into his cool scales and your feet barely able to reach the tangled roots of his nest. You scrambled for purchase, but Suguru was there to steady you – his hands finding your hips, his cocks pressing into your ass. The calloused pads of his fingertips pressed into your waist as he aligned one of his cocks – the upper one, you thought, just a little thicker than its twin – with your entrance. He was kind enough to give you a long, slow second to breathe before his hips rutted forward and he inside of you.
Immediately, it felt wrong.
You’d been right when you decided he was too big for you. He was only half-sheathed, and yet, the tip of his cock pressed into the floor of your cervix, the head of his cock alone enough to stretch your pussy as far as it could go. Thankfully, he didn’t try to force himself deeper, but feeling the smooth ridges of rub against the walls of your pussy as he pulled back wasn’t much better. Still, your cunt clenched around him eagerly, doing its best to suck him in despite your physical limitations. Suguru, of course, seemed more than happy to indulge you. His thrusts were slow and lethargic, as gentle as they could’ve been but still forceful enough to leave you pinned to the curve of his tail. You weren’t in control of your body, anymore. As he rolled his hips against your ass, you ground back against him, your greedy cunt never warm enough, never wet enough, never full enough. You tried to dig your blunt claws into his tail, to ground yourself, but it was a futile effort; a limping dear attempting to evade a wolf who’d already tasted its blood. Suguru’s only response was a stifled groan, a new roughness to the way he fucked into you. You felt his chest against your back as he bent at the waist, draping himself over you, his dark hair falling from his shoulder and replacing chunks of your vision with a curtain of thick, endless black. It didn’t matter. A fresh wave of tears would’ve left you just as helpless, not that Suguru seemed to mind the way you sniffled and sobbed between moans.
“They say— fuck, you know what they say about rabbits, don’t you, bunny?” His voice was barely audible, but it seemed to echo on and on and on in your overly sensitive ears. His cock ground against something softened and vulnerable inside of you and your back arched, your pussy clenching impossibly tighter around him. “That’s it,” Suguru encouraged, as you tried to pry yourself away from his freezing tail and chase the gentle warmth of his chest. “They say bunnies make the best sluts. Knock them up once, and they’ll never stop begging for it.”
Kits. A strong mate. A safe nest. The thought alone had you crying out for nothing, your convulsions growing that much more erratic, and Suguru chuckled in-turn. “Like that? Want me to make you into my little mate-whore?”
“Want it, please, w-want it so bad.” It was all you could do to force yourself to speak, to spit something out through the daze of lust and exhaustion and total, unrelenting fullness. You’d never been more sure of anything than you were in that moment, never knew something as deeply as you knew that you wanted Suguru’s kits inside of you. “Please, wanna be you mate, wanna—Suguru—!”
One more thrust, one more scape of his sleek scales against your clit, and you were coming undone around his cock in jolting, erratic convulsions. Suguru let out a ragged grunt and straightened his back, but the distance was short-lived. Strong arms snaked under your knees, spreading your legs and hauling you up to his height. Your back remained pressed against his chest as he pulled out of you entirely and slammed back in. Even through the overstimulation, the wrongness hit you immediately. His cock was too big, too thick, and—
And he was inside of you.
Completely inside of you.
You forced yourself to open your eyes, letting your head fall forward limply. The shock was minimal, but still devastating – both of Suguru’s cocks buried inside of you to their pitch-black bases, their outlines just barely visible against the plush flesh of your lower stomach. “You—You promised you wouldn’t—”
His face was buried in the dip of your shoulder, his lips parted as panted against you. You felt his teeth catch on your skin before sinking into you, had time to process the pure heat of his venom seeping into your veins. Instantly, anything you might’ve said died on your tongue, your mind going utterly, entirely blank save for a single thought: mate.
Your mouth fell open, your thighs spreading that much farther. Suguru pressed a lingering, open-mouthed kiss into the injection site, then pulled away, grinning wildly. “A few drops, and you’ll want everything I have to give you,” he muttered. “That’s better, isn’t it, bunny?”
Much better. You could feel something swelling at the base of his cock, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge anything other than the utter bliss as a small, round shape was milked up the length of his cock and emptied into your core. Kits, you thought, and did your best to settle onto his twin cocks, to hold still as another egg was forced through your tight pussy. You stopped trying to count after the fourth – giving in completely to the shuddering, splintering euphoria every new member of your little family brought you. By the time the final egg was safe and snug inside of you, you were limp, twitching, and so full, it was hard to imagine ever feeling empty again.
As the last aftershocks started to fade, Suguru sucked in a stilted gasp and pulled you flush against his chest. You felt his second cock twitch once, then twice inside of you before something warm and thick flooded into your pussy. You whined miserably as he pulled out of you, but he didn’t stay gone for very long. Your pliable body was turned around in his arms, his cocks slid back into your leaking cunt as he carefully lowered himself onto the floor of his nest – your body laid on top of his. You strung your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against his chest, closing your eyes and giving in to your well-earned exhaustion.
You lasted just long enough to hear him mutter something about mates and clutches before your consciousness faded entirely and your mind went mercifully, blissfully silent.
~
Hours later, you woke up to the sound of a low, long whistle. “Really did a number on the poor thing, huh, Suguru?”
It took you a second to blink your eyes open, to raise your head and glance toward the man standing at the top of the ladder that led to Suguru’s nest, and another to recognize him as Suguru’s owner. His white hair was in a state of disarray, his eyes hidden behind circles of tinted glass, and for some reason, he was looking at you. You shrunk further into Suguru, but he only laughed – the noise loud and piercing to your foggy senses.
Suguru’s cocks were no longer inside of you, the flushed tips just barely visible at the base of his slit. You were still on his chest, and his arms were wrapped around your waist, his hold loose but possessive. There was a small bump over your lower stomach, and you weren’t sure whether to grimace or beam at the feeling of Suguru’s eggs shifting inside of you with every little movement. He was already awake – had been for some time, judging by the unimpressed scowl pressed into his lips. Something sharp and icy lodged itself into your chest, but his glare was directed towards his owner, not you, and the very tip of his tail curled around your ankle protectively as his owner stepped into his nest.
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to walk into a serpent’s den?”
“I don’t think it counts if I own the den.” He straddled the bulk of Suguru’s tail, then gestured to you. “Turn the pretty baby around. I wanna see the damage.”
You shook your head vehemently, clinging to Suguru’s neck, but his own response was an exasperated sigh, a fleeting hiss to your cheek as he flipped you over; leaving you slayed across his chest and exposed to his owner’s prying gaze. “Five minutes,” he said, as his owner shrugged the waistband of his pants down just far enough to free his cock, already half-hard, already enough to send a bolt of pure dread from your heart to the pit of your stomach. “I don’t want your scent on my mate.”
You opened your mouth, ready to whine that you were sore, that you were tired, that you didn’t want anyone but Suguru and your kits inside of you, but the words withered into nothing on your tongue as his owner eased himself into your dripping pussy, as Suguru caught you by the chin and pulled you into a shallow, lingering kiss – the points of his fangs just barely scraping over your bottom lip. Looking back on it, it had been silly to ever worry that he’d eat you.
You should’ve been worried that he wouldn’t.
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