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velvetvexations · 15 days ago

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you’ll see a trans boy be like “i dont personally have the power to oppress you” and then later the same day 3 of their little trans boy friends will start calling you out for making the first trans boy cry so hard he almost died (by disagreeing with him) and then all the cis women in the space will instantly side with the fragile little boys against the scary big [t-slur] who uses intimidating words like “transmisogyny” and thats how the whisper network against you starts, leading to far reaching professional and social consequences that never leave you

This didn’t happen.

Not this way, at least. All marginalized people are at all times at risk of being canceled unfairly. Their marginalization tends to play a major part in that, obviously. Trans women get hit with it a lot and that fucking sucks, and some transmascs are in TERF-y circles and can theoretically use that against transfems should they feel the need to.

This that I’m quoting, however, is a fantasy. It’s a page from a dream journal. People are giddily imagining things like this happening because they live in a world where trans women are feared and have their reputations ruined by lies, and they want to exploit that for their own benefit. The best way of doing this is putting themselves above other trans people, because cis people don’t give enough of a fuck to care or get involved with these bullshit arguments, but if you whine about other marganalized people they will actually be affected by it and forced into the conversation you created out of thin air. It’s not so much a victimization complex as it is a death cult fascination with the misery of transfemininity identical to the TERF obsession with fymyl suffering, defining ‘trans woman’ as 'the thing that feels pain always and forever.’

It’s disgusting and I can’t imagine identifying with such a sniveling and pathetic vision of what being a trans woman is like. It’s so undignified it makes my skin crawl. It’s embarrassing. There’s nothing in this crying little effigy covered in pins and needles I can relate to. I can’t tell if these people need more self-esteem or less. I’m so fucking tired of this wounded gazelle shit.

But for the TRF, transfemininity is all about the abuse. Just look at the beyond absurd assertion, made over and over again, that trans women are maliciously called the t-slur by other trans people. That’s just. No? No. But in claiming that the t-slur can only ever refer to trans women, and that transfeminine suffering takes priority above all else because everyone forever at all times hates trans women more than anyone else, it again becomes necessary to construct this false vision of intercommunity dynamics where “scary big t-slur” is a stereotype that exists within the community in the first place, and which trans men are constantly using against trans women.

It’s just so blatantly selfish for one to act like a transfeminist when all one does every single day is bitch about other trans people. We’re all about to get fucked harder than ever and there are people who profess to sincerely believe they’re fighting the revolution by making up lies about their siblings. I’m easily triggered by transphobia outside of the community and yet even I manage to engage with actual transphobes and make them considerably less transphobic, yet people who don’t even know enough about what TERFs believe to understand they hate men too will fritter the day away on how they could theoretically be canceled if they did something bad ,and wouldn’t that be the worst thing ever? Oh, what if I broke up with someone and our mutual friends believed I was the jerk, because that’s a situation that exclusively happens to poor helpwess twans women and the mere suggestion I could possibly be a jerk in the first place is unthinkable? Hate to keep saying this, but trans women are being actually murdered and this obsessive fixation on “social murder” within the trans community exists purely to spice things up with a feeling of danger because the spaces we’ve managed to carve out for ourselves are otherwise a little too safe and it feels more authentic to the Laura Palmer Ultimate Victim narrative. Massively popular transfems with over ten thousand followers will happily sic them on people for the most upsettingly asinine reasons and then cry-type about how they’re the underdogs in every possible social situation.

But most obnoxious of all is the implication here that, because this can only happen to trans women, gossip and slander does not happen to other trans people, or other marginalized people in general.

That’s fucked, considering how much this discourse has attacked specific targets. It’s most maddening to see that “the coiner of the word transandrophobia has dykebreaking+detransitioning-of-transfems kink” has evolved to “most people who believe in transandrophobia have those kinks” because I constantly see TERFs making huge compilations of transfem blogs engaging in cis dykebreaking kink from the dom perspective. Just transfem dom blog after transfem dom blog enthusiastically into cis dykebreaking, which TERFs use to paint us in a way that fits their narrative.

Literally the only example they can ever give of a transandrophobia-connected person* being a dom for dykebreaking with transfem subs is someone who was being paid by a transfem. Detrans kink is overwhelmingly non-transfems, but almost exclusively as subs to either transfems or cis men, and those transfems aren’t getting paid for it, they actually are just in it for the love of the game. There’s nothing wrong with that, but people want to act like there is when it’s anyone else, and that’s not only weird but also setting up a bear trap to step in later.

Which gets to the point that, hey, wow, I’ve noticed a lot of cis women in particular who self-identify as TME are super into anti-shipping. You cannot possibly imagine you’re safe for trans women if your big issue with trans men articulating their oppression is “they masturbate evilly.” Popular transfem blogs will talk at length about how you shouldn’t judge transfems for their kinks but cis women are so eager to kinkshame transmascs that they not only make shit up out of thin air, but specifically copy and paste kinks almost entirely made up of transfems onto transmascs. Someday very soon a TERF is going to show them it’s much more convenient to be a general transphobe and not make special exceptions for the ones that use the same pronouns as you. They’re going to show your anti-ship cis lesbian friend one of those transfem dykebreaking blog compilations and she’ll take Trans Rights Are Human Rights out of her bio within the hour.

Like, even if you didn’t care about being monstrously inhumane to others, all of this is so against transfem self-interests in the long run, but people who consider themselves the most transfeminist transfeminists there are, of a radical nature, one might say, care more about notes than helping anyone, least of all the transfems they’re feeding into a grinder of paranoia and isolation. Especially the isolation.

It’s a little hard to take it seriously when I get accused of calling all trans women groomers for thinking it’s bad when people talk about “curing” other trans women’s “comphet,” how “TMEs” are obligated to bottom for them to compensate for transmisogyny, and writing long treatises on why it’s one’s moral responsibility to throw forcefem kink at random men because they may like it. Like, am I saying trans women are groomers, or am I saying some people use being members of a marginalized community to be kinna gross? People somehow find it in them to be angry at gay men who cross boundaries in spite of the messaging that they’re all sex abusers for the past two hundred years. Especially since 90% of the concern is for other trans women.Like, sorry, but I care enough about trans women that I’m going to say something if I think you’re putting them in a bad situation, and someone being a trans woman doesn’t make them immune to that. But oh, it does if you assume that this is all just common sense transfeminism, and I am in fact making this accusation of most trans women instead of an extremely niche group.

Never mind that in the screencap people use to accuse me of calling trans women “rapists” I was saying something a self-identified TME said was coercive, and whose identity as a Not a Trans Woman I explicitly noted.** Never mind that I’m the not the one telling people to name their blogs after the original transbian separatist group that famously fell apart after resulting in heavy sexual abuse. Never mind that I have said over and over again that TRFs act no more entitled to people’s bodies than lesbian TERFs who treat people they perceive as women the same way.

But I’m supposed to believe that those cis anti-shippers who post things like “every time someone says kinks are fine they’re just protecting predators in the LGBT community” is a great ally and I’m a traitor because they hate men and I don’t?

Sorry, no, not a traitor. A “pickme begging to be beaten to death with hammers.” Who’s probably not even actually a trans woman. Great transfeminism, yall. You’re really fighting transmisogyny.

It’s especially galling now that TRFs have taken to calling transandrophobia “reactionary,” the most bullshit possible way to call a group that includes a huge number of PoC, who they constantly accuse of tokenization, a pack of Nazis. What is transandrophobia reacting to? Bigotry? Golly gee, I guess so! Or maybe it’s “reacting” to transmisogyny as part of the completely absurd idea that trasnmascs steal everything from transfems. Like, yeah, sure girliepop, and we stole misogyny from cis women, right? Sorry you failed to not sound exactly like a TERF yet again but maybe try again tomorrow and you’ll finally earn not being called a radfem.

But isn’t it sooooo mean of me to compare a small amount of trans women to radfems? Like their oppressors? Well, first of all, they regularly refer to Jewish people as Nazis, discourse aside that they do that is simply a true fact which shows they indeed think it’s possible to justify comparisons like that, although in their case it’s just because it feels like getting off a sick burn and rhetorical W to go “ah, but what if this Jewish person…was a Nazi? Checkmate, Zionists.”

Secondly, for as much as TRFs want to claim TERFs only hate them, that’s simply not true and I have conclusively proven this with basic use of Tumblr’s search function and the tag “radblr.” Twice. If you believe they love transmascs and only want what’s best for them, congratulations dipshit, you fell for their propaganda so hard I’m surprised they haven’t managed to convince you you’re not a woman. Or is it only an obvious lie when it’s about you?

Most annoyingly, just on a personal level, is the way TRFs get pissed off at non-transfem feminine AMAB people for daring to exist. The idea that femboy is a slur for trans women would be laughable if it weren’t grotesque in it’s ignorance. The things I’ve read people say about how transmisogynistic it is for an anime character to be a crossdressing man instead of a trans woman are just infuriatingly racist. Not everything is about you and it’s not actually a big deal if people talk about others once in blue moon.

The constant posts about how non-transfems are evil for not making more transfem headcanons, or for headcanoning the TRF’s favorite canonically male character wrong, are particularly childish. I can’t even go into MY favorite blorbo’s tag without seeing people call transmasc headcanons of him inferior literary analysis completely without irony, and every single time they shit like this, they do it while making up the most convoluted and nonsensical explanations for why the character can only be transfem instead, as though the hostility is defensiveness born out of their particular blorbo requiring a lot of creativity to headcanon that way, necessitating going to war to prove they can’t really be a man to assert it as The One Truth. Then they’ll complain until the fucking heat death of the universe about how everyone loves transmasc headcanons because of transmisogyny.

It’s the same unbearable on-sight hostility as when a TERF sees a child on the subway and goes home to type up a novel of a post on how he had the eyes of a future wife-beater, and it’s so irritating to see it spread from one corner to another. Literally, TRFs say that trans men will always turn on trans women and eventually detransition to wield their wymbnly power against us, and I’m expected to not see that as having severe hang-ups about people born into what they want to transition into and have denied to them by society’s transphobia?

What about the fact that they constantly mock AFAB trans people in ways specifically targeting that trait, calling non-binary people “theyfabs,” joking it’s easy to misgender trans men when they have large breasts, and reduce transmasc stereotypes to feminine “soft bois?” Like, yeah, okay, you’re not projecting any gaping insecurities you may have about assigned sex and gender roles when you say transmasc music is ukuleles and transfem music is heavy metal, next tell me about how transmascs all enjoy tea parties and transfems all go to football games.

But it’s not even mostly trans women who keep this shit alive in the first place. A higher percentage of total trans women on this site are into this framework, but the total number of non-transfem trans people and cis women so outweighs them in the first place that it cancels that out. Like, if x is higher than y, and x% of trans women on Tumblr agree but only y% of “TME” people do, that’s still a movement mostly consisting of “TME” people. The full separatist angle would very quickly reveal how little air it has to burn if trans women truly only had themselves to watch out for each other. Unfortunately, self-identified TMEs are much more likely to get TERFier rather than simply less TRF-y when the spell breaks and they realize how fucked up this shit is, while the people who’ve been batted at continue to exercise the patience of a saint and continue to fight for trans women anyway.

And that! Is what hurts! The most! The fact that people do not care about transmascs and in particular the ones who believe in transandrophobia are constantly tripping over themselves to defend and help trans women as much as they possibly can. I wish people saw that. I wish that mattered. It’s like watching a black hole suck up an endless font of goodwill and love. And then going “lol reactionary transandrobros hate trans women.”

That’s it, though, the great irony of it all is that if it were true, it’d never have become popular in the first place. It’s kept aloft by self-identified TMEs who are well-meaning if not especially good at critical thinking, except for the the contingent that are convinced trans men are all misogynistic because they personally are, or even outright seem to get gender euphoria from the idea they have male privilege. But for whatever reason, if “TME” folks didn’t care? The people making up elaborate tales of their potential (social) murder would have to find some other way to get attention.

I suggest throwing on a big red nose and joining a circus.

*and I specify “transandrophobia-connected” but you’d have a hard time rustling up transmasc doms in general from those scenes

**also, despite it being something I saw with my own eyes, I notably did not even feel it hit the level of needing to directly name someone as being who I was basing my assessment of sexual coercive behavior on as being sexually coercive, because I think it's much more a prevalent attitude of pressure in sexual contexts than individual behavior

#I posted this for literally about a minute before deciding it was too aggressive #but I got an email from someone replying to it in that very brief window of time that preserved the text #and I was like oh thank God this is actually normal and fine actually people will like this #so angry about so many things #transmisogyny #transandrophobia #exorsexism #discourse #trans radical feminism #cw slurs #cw sa

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level2janitor · 10 months ago

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Introduction to the OSR

what's an OSR? it's a game that's kinda like old-school D&D. or is old-school D&D. or is compatible with old-school D&D. an OSR game generally has some or all of the following principles:

low character power with highly lethal combat. in old-school D&D a 1st-level fighter has d8 hit points and a longsword does d8 damage, and you die at 0HP. this is not to ensure characters die all the time but to emphasize the next bullet point:

emphasis on creative problem solving. most situations cannot be solved by straightforward use of your abilities (such as charging into every situation with swords drawn, if a fighter), so the game tests lateral, outside-the-box thinking.

emphasis on diegetic progression. spells are found, not obtained automatically on level-up. you get XP by finding gold more than killing monsters. most of your cool abilities come from magic items. making alliances & hiring followers is encouraged.

focus on managing inventory, resources, risk, and time. the players are constantly faced with meaningful decisions; this is the heart of the game.

very sandbox-oriented. the focus on creative problem solving means the game must be accommodating to players taking a course of action the GM didn't plan for. use lots of random tables to generate emergent story. some elements of new simulationism.

high tactical transparency, i.e., the optimal course of action is rarely system-specific, and ideally very possible for a new player to intuit.

usually semi-compatible with old D&D, but not always. usually rules-lite, but not always.

what does the OSR mostly NOT do?

focus on character builds. these change the focus too much to be on the rules than the fiction, can create situations where stuff everyone should be able to do is an ability locked to one class, and impede tactical transparency.

resolve everything with a die roll. combat uses dice to be scary, unpredictable and most importantly not your default course of action. everything else should bring up dice rarely - dice are your plan B when your plan A fails. the best plans need no dice.

use linear storytelling or put players into a writer/GM role. linear storytelling gets in the way of the decision-making so core to the playstyle; letting players write details into the setting is mutually exclusive with them discovering it.

rules for everything. 400 pages of crunch is worse at simulating a believable world than the GM and players' shared understanding. OSR games rely constantly on GM ruling.

mostly still applies to all the above. making your system a "pure" OSR game comes second to doing what's best for your game.

System recommendations

old D&D or a retroclone

old-school D&D - or old school essentials or basic fantasy or swords & wizardry, which are old D&D's mechanics repackaged with quality-of-life tweaks (and the upside of not giving WOTC your money) - are usually the go-to when recommending someone's first OSR game. they're actually not my first pick, though!

PROS:

very complete, with more robust rules than a lot of the lighter games on this list.

100% compatibility: most OSR adventures are statted for old school essentials. converting them to other OSR systems is usually simple, but not 1-for-1.

easier to find games for. anyone interested in the OSR space knows what old school essentials is.

CONS:

jank. these games largely still have weird saves, level limits for non-humans, some still have descending AC, etc etc. it's not that bad but it is there

i hate thief skills. lots of essential dungeoneering actions are locked to the thief class as abilities, with abysmally low success chances. this is stuff i prefer being handled without a roll. thieves in this system suck and make everyone else worse at dungeon crawling by existing.

there's just lots of really cool shit in other systems i'm about to go into that you just don't get here

Knave 1e and its various hacks

this is a 7-page super-lightweight system that boils everything down to just the essentials.

rolling a character takes like 5 minutes. roll stats, roll gear, roll traits, go. done. it's great.

characters are defined entirely by stats and gear, no classes. wanna be a fighter, have high strength and carry a big sword and armor. wanna be a wizard, have high intelligence and fill your inventory with spells. item slots are elegant and pretty limited.

initiative is instant: roll d6. 1-3, monsters go first. 4-6, PCs go first. swingy, but god it is so smooth and shaves like the most boring 5 minutes off of every combat

monsters are so very elegant. old D&D gives monsters a "hit dice" rating to determine their HP, e.g. a 3HD monster rolls 3d8 for hit points. knave takes this number (HD) and uses it for attack rolls and saves (aside from exceptionally bad/good saves), so a knave statblock looks something like this.

spells are all one or two sentences long & extremely easy to remember.

7 pages is so light. i have the system basically memorized.

DOWNSIDES: there's no dungeon crawling rules (standard for meatier OSR games & something i consider essential) and no real bestiary, though the second point isn't a huge deal cause they're so easy to make. it also kinda assumes you already know how to run OSR games, so there's very little real advice or guidance.

KNAVE HACKS

knave 1e is in creative commons & comes with an editable word doc for you to publish with modifications, so there's a ton of variants (there was a spreadsheet of them somewhere, but i can't find it).

Grave is a favorite - i'm two years into a grave campaign and it's fantastic. it's a dark-souls-y version of knave with some really elegant innovations.

you have a set number of deaths before you for-reals die, as every character plays an undead as is dark souls tradition. makes it good for OSR beginners! being able to tell when you're close to your final death is really good - it lets you emotionally prepare for losing your character & raises the stakes more the more you die. (though honestly you should probably cut the number of extra deaths in half, it's super generous)

XP and gold are combined into one resource, souls. legendary creatures drop big souls you can make into magic items. this has ended up being the coolest thing in my current campaign. my players love finding powerful souls to make into magic items it's so fun

uses preset packages of stats/gear instead of knave's rolled ones, filling the role of more traditional character classes. has the wonderful side effect of not making you get stuck with low stats cause you rolled bad one time.

you have stamina equal to your empty item slots. you spend stamina on spells if you're a caster, or free maneuvers (on top of your attack at no action cost) if you're not. it's super elegant.

there's 3 classes of spells: wizardry for intelligence, holy magic for wisdom, and witch stuff for charisma. nice and intuitive.

there's a page of 50 magic items each a couple sentences long. this PDF is worth it just for the magic items.

DOWNSIDE: see the downsides for knave 1e. all still apply.

i enjoyed grave so much i made a variant of it with the dark souls bits removed (and some dungeon crawl rules added!) to use for my standard fantasy campaigns.

Knave 2e

sadly knave 2e is not purchasable yet (i backed it on kickstarter so i have access, though). but when it comes out i highly recommend it.

much larger and denser than knave 1e. it finally has dungeon crawling rules, it has GM and player guidance, everything is refined and the layout is so so nice and readable.

combat is a bit more interesting than 1e. you can break your weapon against an enemy to deal max damage. you get a free maneuver on high attack rolls.

there's rules for stuff like alchemy, warfare, building a base. it all kicks ass.

there are so many goddamn tables. i rifle through it anytime i need inspiration.

DOWNSIDES: some of the new rules are a little untested & wonky. introducing randomness into how often your rations spoil or your lights go out can cause issues.

Mausritter

you play tiny little mice! in a world full of big dangerous things that want to eat mice. cat = dragon. you get it. what more could you want

the mouse thing is just super intuitive. you get the dynamic between you and the big scary lethal world. fantastic OSR game to introduce kids

nice and robust ruleset; nothing feels missing

tons of super nice GM stuff! faction rules, tools for rolling up hexcrawls and dungeons, plenty of tables

super clean readable layout. font isn't too small to avoid being intimidating. guidance is really nice and clear.

combat is autohit. super fast & lethal.

100% free

look mausritter is just. good. i wanna run it so bad someday

Worlds Without Number

sort of a middle ground between OSR stuff and 5e. paid version here free version here

lots of classes, at least in the paid version. the free version comes with just the warrior, expert and mage. there's feats and more of a focus on builds than most OSR games. if you like more mechanical build variety than a typical OSR game, this is a great game for you!

extremely good multiclassing. y'know how in most games if you just mash together two classes you think are cool you'll end up with a total mess? not here! every combo is viable and works fine! easily the best multiclassing of any game i've touched

an absurd amount of GM stuff and tables. easily more than any of the other stuff i've praised for also having them. but personally i haven't dug into them as much, so i can't really comment on them

skills the way modern D&D has them. you roll dice and try to beat a target number. i don't tend to like rolled skills, but most people do, so if that's your thing WWN has them

DOWNSIDES

the layout is terrible. everything is a huge wall of text with very little use of bold text or bullet points to draw attention to the important bits. the table of contents has like 15 things in it for a 400-page book! i couldn't find any of the paid-version-exclusive classes for like a month after i bought it! looking up rules is a nightmare.

the way the default setting handles "evil races" is like an exaggerated parody of all the problematic aspects of how D&D handles it. like, it wants so bad for you to have an excuse to genocide sentient free-willed people. but at least the default setting is easy to chuck in the trash

Dungeon Crawl Classics

the goal of this system is to take all of the crazy gonzo moments people remember playing old-school D&D in their childhood and turn all of that up to 11 while cutting the stuff that doesn't add to that. i think a lot of its innovations have ended up kind of standard in newer OSR stuff (like fighters getting maneuvers with their attacks), but it still has more to offer.

the funnel: you start the game with four randomly rolled dipshit peasants that you then throw into a meatgrinder to get horribly killed. you pick one of the survivors to be your 1st-level character.

maneuvers: fighters roll an extra die with each attack that gets bigger as you level. if it's a 3 or higher, you get to do a cool thing on top of your attack. pretty standard for OSR games, but this game popularized it!

crit tables: fighters also get more crits and nastier crits as they level. every crit, you roll on the crit table. maybe you chop off a dude's arm. maybe you just knock them over. maybe you shatter their shield. it's very cool

spell tables: i don't really like roll-to-cast mechanics, generally. but DCC goes so all-in on roll-to-cast that it still looks fun as hell to watch. you cast a fireball and maybe it goes how you want. or maybe you explode, or you nuke everything in a half-mile radius, or from now on you permanently ignite flammable materials you touch, or whatever. casters just have to put up with turning into a weird mutated mess across a campaign

there's no dungeon crawl rules, no encumbrance - this game is all about the big over-the-top wacky shit, and is not really interested in the more down-to-earth number crunching. it's more in the you-die-hilariously-all-the-time area of OSR than the you-avoid-death-through-clever-play area. not really my thing but the system knows exactly what it wants to be and i respect it

iron halberd

this one is mine! as the author i'm not qualified to tell you what isn't good about my system, so just assume it's worse than i make it sound, but here's a bunch of the selling points

semi-random character creation where you flip back and forth between rolling dice and getting your own input. roll stats, pick ancestry. pick starting gear kit, roll different dice based on which kit you picked. etc etc. stats are random but all equally viable (no rolling incredibly low or high stats). every time i run this game the character creation is a hit. seriously go roll up a character it'll sell you on the whole thing

you start out a lot stronger than a standard OSR character but grow way more slowly. i don't like 4th-level characters being 4 times as strong as 1st-level ones; HP never gets that high. emphasis is more on diegetic progression instead.

way too many subsystems for alchemy, crafting, strongholds, warfare, renown, rituals, likes 9 pages of magic items, a whole subsystem for becoming a cleric mid-campaign. i couldn't help myself i love this shit

in my current campaign we had a player permanently sacrifice some max HP to become a necromancer after deliberating on whether that's a good idea for like thirty seconds, which instantly made me think my necromancy system is a success

also free

Adventure recommendations

(in rough order of size)

Moonhill Garden (by Emiel Boven): look at this. look at it! this is like the best template for a little dungeon in an OSR game. all of the little factions are tied together. this would be a great oneshot to introduce people to an OSR system with.

A gathering of blades (by Ben Milton): a system-neutral, one-page sandbox. i ran this for an iron halberd game and it went super well. lasted like 7 sessions. highly recommend.

The Waking of Willowby Hall (by Ben Milton): a single dungeon with a million things going on. it's super chaotic with half a dozen different factions crashing into each other and a big angry goose. highly recommend, especially for kids

The Black Wyrm of Brandonsford (by Chance Dudinack): small sandbox with a fun fairytale vibe and a very fleshed-out little town. and a big nasty dragon.

Evils of Illmire (by Zack Wolf): this is a very dense, entire campaign's worth of hexcrawl in a very compact package for like $5. it doesn't do anything particularly new, but the value-for-money is absurd and it's a really good template for how to do a sandbox if you're used to 5e adventures

Ask me anything!

if anything here is unclear or intrigues you, send me asks! i love helping people get into OSR games. i'll link frequently asked questions here if i get any.

#osr #nsr #ttrpg #d&d #iron halberd #knave #worlds without number #dungeon crawl classics #mausritter #l2j archive

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ohbo-ohno · 11 months ago

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merry christmas @luminousbeings-crudematter, here's the ghoap x reader purge au! (a week and a half after you posted about it... im so sorry)

5.7k, mind the tags <3

cw: ROUGH NONCONSENUAL SEX in all caps, pwp, under-prepared/painful anal sex, some pretty intense fear stuff, people covered in blood and referenced violence (it's a purge au lol)

Your hands tremble where they’re tucked close to your chest, blood sticky and thick between each finger. You feel coated in it, like someone has taken a brush and gone over every inch of your skin, painted you in red.

It’s in your mouth. You can feel the warmth of it on your tongue, the taste of iron sickening. You tell yourself that maybe you bit your tongue, that it’s not really your ex Phil’s blood coating your teeth.

Your thin pajamas are hardly any protection against the chill of the night air, less so with how soaked they are. The stench of piss is heavy in the air, a mixture of yours and his, but you don’t have time to go back inside and change.

You’re running on pure instinct, an animal urge deep in your mind insisting you run. You’d always thought you’d have more of a flight instinct than fight. Despite how you feel now, how your legs itch to carry you as far away as possible, the cooling corpse left behind tells you the truth.

You stumble into the wall, a wave of nausea knocking you off balance. There’s a trail of red left behind as you use one hand to balance yourself, the other held protectively over your heart.

Your security system - cheap, but usually enough to let you sleep through the Purge - is completely destroyed. There’s no chance of it protecting you, and the bust in windows will let anyone on the streets see your vulnerability. You’ll never feel safe there, and you can’t shake the need to run.

There’s no chance of any of your neighbors helping you. There’s some neighborly camaraderie between your floor-mates, but that all disappears on Purge night. It’s every man for himself, every year, without fail. You know that. You even think the same as them, pretend no one else exists when that siren goes off every year.

But now, shaking and terrified, you wish you could knock on a door and see it open. Hear the security system disengage and see a familiar face, beg for help and thank them on your knees.

It’s a nice fantasy. Reality is less kind, seeing you shake with a dawning chill as you manage to shoulder open the door to the stairwell, cringing when it slams behind you.

The cold cement is rough on your feet, and a distant part of yourself worries about slipping - your feet are slick with blood, and you can hear yourself leaving a trail of footsteps. You don’t try to slow down, holding tight to the metal railing and shuffling down the stairs.

You’re halfway down the first of four flights when the door on the next floor opens, a large figure stepping into the stairwell. Your stumble to a stop before you even register that you’re not alone anymore, and you’re backpedaling before you even fully realize.

He’s big, his face covered in a red skull mask. From your vantage point you can see his hair is shaved into a mohawk, and he’s shirtless with only a pair of gray sweatpants on.

He’s drenched in blood. Even more than you, and you feel like you’re drowning in it. If you’re painted in blood, someone took a bucket and dumped it on this man. You can hardly see any unmarked skin, and you wonder for a split-second if the skull was once white.

There’s an audible grin in his voice when he calls up to you. “Look’it you, bonnie thing. You tryin’ to run?” He steps to the side, leaving a wide open space for you to pass him to the next staircase. You’re frozen where you’re leant against the railing, hardly able to breathe. “C’mon, give it a shot.”

You listen, scrabbling further back and all but throwing yourself up the stairs on all fours. You’re only the need to get away, an innate fear that tells you to get as far from the blood-soaked man as quickly as possible. You swear you hear him laugh as you launch yourself up the next flight, panting already.

There’s no safety found in going up though, as hardly two flights later you’re tugged to a stop by your instincts alone.

Standing above you, hardly six feet away and blocking the door he must’ve just come from, is another giant. This one fully clothed and with a white skull mask, somehow bigger and more intimidating than the man you can hear coming up the stairs behind you. You can’t see even an inch of skin, black gloves on his hands and mean black combat boots reaching nearly his knees.

There’s a moment, before the chase ends, where you contemplate jumping over the railing. There’s no going up, there’s no going back, and you can’t even begin to imagine what these two men want with you. The only thing that keeps you from throwing yourself over is the fear that you wouldn’t die on impact, that you’d be left injured and even more vulnerable to these men.

You’re not sure you could’ve tried that plan had you even wanted to, because the moment it forms fully in your mind a pair of thick arms wraps around you, and a heavy weight forces you to the ground.

You cry out at the sudden shove, palms scraped raw against the cement. The man behind you covers your body completely - his knees bracket yours, his hands rest on either side of your head, and there’s no part of the back of you that isn’t cloaked in him.

He doesn’t say anything as he ruts against you, the blood from his chest soaking through your tank top and making you cringe further away. You can’t stop the quiet stream of whimpers as you try to shrink into the stairs, try to get away from the beast behind you. He doesn’t care, only drops more of his weight onto you and pantomines fucking you.

You can feel the outline of his cock through his pants, as thin as the clothes both of you are wearing are. If you weren’t wearing your shorts, if he tugged the waistband of his pants down, he’d be inside of you.

The thought makes you tear up, makes you want to slam your head back and try to knee him in the balls, makes you want to fight.

But all your fight is gone. It died with Phil and your security system, and you’re left only with a weight in your bones that makes you wish you could sink through the floor.

The hard plastic of the skull mask presses to the sensitive skin of your cheek, biting into the fat there. You can see the gleam of bright blue eyes in the sockets, the creases at the edges that tell you he’s smiling.

“You gonna fuck her here for the first time?” The white skull asks, voice deep enough that you hardly register the words. Your eyes are jerked to his form and it makes you shiver to see him sitting on the top of the staircase you’re pinned to, legs spread wide as he stares down at you with a cigarette between lips exposed by the tilted mask. You feel like a sacrifice, thrown to the stairs of a temple for a god.

“Can I?” The man over your shoulder pants, accent roughened from his own movements. You can’t tell if the wetness between your thighs is piss, blood, or an even worse option. You bite your tongue to hold back a whine, wince at the burst of iron in your mouth.

The man above you tilts his head, smoking blown into the air. “You fuck her here, you won’t get to go again on the roof. Don’t need you gettin’ spoiled.”

Your nails dig into the concrete, folding beneath the pressure as you shake beneath the red skulled man. He whines over you, like a petulant kid being told no for the first time, but goes still against you. That alone has you blinking open damp eyelashes, watching him from the corner of your eyes.

“Alright, I’ll wait,” he pants, chin resting on your soldier. “Give ye some time to get ready, huh lass? It’ll be easier for ye then. Just think about what we’ll do to ye, how good it’ll feel to get properly fucked, yeah?”

You sob when he grinds one final time against you, your hips pushed into the harsh edge of the stairs.

He’s dragging you up after that, hardly letting either of you stand fully before shoving you up the stairs. You can’t catch your balance and let out a small cry as you fall back to your knees, mouth twisting in pain at the unforgiving surface against your naked knees.

You flinch when a gloved hand grasps your chin, tugging up until you’re forced to look towards the white skull above you.

You’ve landed between his feet, a boot on either side of your body, and if you’d moved forward even another half foot, you’d have face planted into his lap.

Your heart skips a beat when you realize you’re making eye contact with him. The dark brown of his pupils blends almost seamlessly with what must be black paint smeared around his eye sockets, and the only reason you even realize you’re locked in a staring contest is the way the light reflects off the whites of his eyes.

You don’t have time to try and move away from him on your own (or, more accurately, to throw yourself backwards and pray you didn’t break something falling down the stairs) before a pair of bare hands are shoving you up from beneath the armpits, making you almost squeal as you jerk in the direction you’re forced.

“Up, c’mon,” red skull grunts, hands flitting from one part of your exposed skin to the next as he herds you upstairs. “Need to get inside ye, kitty, fuckin’ walk.”

You sob as you stumble up the stairs, the top of your foot scraping painfully against the concrete. You glance over your shoulder just in time to see White stand to follow you two, but you’re nearly sent sprawling again when Red only shoves you all the more harshly.

“Pl-please,” you manage to gasp, shoulder roughly bouncing off the wall. A glance up tells you you’re two full flights away from the rooftop. “Please, I don’t know what you want, b-but…” You can hardly talk around the sobs floating in your throat, choking you. “Please, please don’t hurt me.”

Red groans as he tugs you nearly off balance, the sound echoing off the walls and full of what you can only describe as hunger.

“Fuck, haven’t even gotten ye naked yet ‘n yer already beggin. Knew ye’d be perfect for us.”

You can hardly see through the tears in your eyes, the rest of the trip up to the roof all gray with streaks of red and black. You can’t focus enough to try and get away again, can’t get enough of your panic under control to fucking think.

The red skull catches you when you almost go careening over the rails, one broad hand catching you by the chest and gripping.

He groans, you flinch. “Fuck, cannae wait to get my mouth on these.” He pinches with his whole hand, your breast going sharp with pain on every fingertip. You whine, flinching further against his chest and trying to shrink away.

“Keep movin’, Soap.”

“Aye,” Red - Soap - pants, and you can practically hear the saliva gathered in his mouth when he swallows. “C’mon, kitty, only a little further.”

The blood on your hands has dried by the time White is shouldering open the door to the roof, your hands itching and the red flaking away every time your fingers twitch. The night air is a cold shock, just jarring enough to tug some reason back into your brain.

Soap doesn’t stop his herding until you’re far enough from the door for his partner to block it with an old metal chair, the back tucked under the door handle. You tuck your hands beneath your arms, shoulders curled in in an attempt to preserve warmth.

You wouldn’t have expected the night to be so cold. Half of the street is burning - flames painting the sky, giving you the exact opposite impression of the biting chill you feel. There are dozens of people in the streets, carrying guns and axes and chainsaws and all sorts of other weapons you can’t see. You feel bile rise in your throat when you realize the dark pools reflecting flames in the street are blood, not water.

“Fuckin’ finally,” Soap grumbles, and you don’t have any time to think before his mouth is pressed forcefully against yours, tongue shoving at your lips.

Your eyes are wide open, unlike his, and you make a shocked sound high in your throat at the sight of his maskless face. You can’t really see what he looks like with the way he’s pressed against you, but it’s a shock nonetheless.

You keep your lips pressed tightly together, no matter how much his tongue prods and tries to force its way into your mouth. You feel more than hear him laugh against you after a few long seconds, and one of his massive paws comes up to cradle your jaw pointer finger against your temple and thumb under your chin.

He stops trying to force himself between your lips after almost a minute, instead shifting to just… licking your lips. His tongue paints wide across your mouth, soaking you in his saliva. He’s almost scarily determined in the way he accosts you, his grip tight on your face as his other hand shifts to bruise your hip, covering what feels like the entire bottom-half of your face in his spit. You can’t help but grimace, trying to pull away from him, but he’s pressed too close.

“Can’t fuckin’ wait to be in ye,” he pants, breath warm and wet against your cheeks. “I know yer gonna squeeze me just right, bonnie, can tell already.”

“Please,” you say, voice weak. “Please, don’t, I don’t want you to-”

His groan is guttural. “Ye wanna know a secret, bonnie?” His voice is quiet between the two of you, bright blue eyes boring deep into yours when he pulls back. To your endless frustration, he’s handsome.

He leans close, whispering so low that you almost have to strain to hear hum. “That’s what makes you fun. Wouldnae be draggin’ you up here if ye wanted it, could get you any other night of the year for that. But it’s Purge night, lass… so you go ahead and fight as much as ye want, yeah? Just makes it more fun for me.”

You can’t help but sob at that, fat tears streaming down your face as he maneuvers you. You feel disconnected from your body as he forces you down to the ground, your soft belly left exposed when he pushes up your tank-top to cup one of your breasts, a whimper crawling out of your throat at the way the gravel presses into you.

You feel his breathing grow heavier as his hands move down to your shorts, shoving them off your hips and leaving them loose around your calves, completely disregarding your pitiful attempts at crawling away.

“Poor thing, been stuck in these the whole time? They fuckin’ reek, bonnie, no offense. That his piss or yours?”

You shake your head against the ground, face twisted up in acute humiliation. For some stupid reason you don’t want to even begin exploring, you find it necessary to whisper, “H-his.”

Soap hums, and you curse yourself inwardly when the humiliation is slightly alleviated.

“Get ‘em off her,” the white mask says, and you can’t help but jump at the sound of his voice. He’s sat on a large box only a few feet away, leaning back and relaxing, looking for all the world like he’s settled in for his favorite show. “Don’t want anythin’ of his touching her now.”

The sound Soap makes at that is animalistic, a snarl coming from deep in his chest that makes you flinch as he all but tears the shorts from your body. You wince at the wet splat of them landing several feet away.

You force your forehead into the gravel when your knees are forced wide, a rough hand and another pair of knees spreading you.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no…” you can’t help but beg, voice trembling. “Please- god, please don’t-”

“Fuck,” he moans over your shoulder. “Yeah, keep goin’, lass.”

You sob at the feeling of warm skin against your bared behind, his thick length slotting itself smoothly between the slightly spread lips of your pussy. Your eyes squeeze shut and it takes all your willpower not to keep begging.

He slides himself back and forth against you for a few long breaths, using online the slight slickness from a mixture of piss and blood to get some friction. But to your immense horror, it only takes a few moments for the sensual movement against your clit to have your body preparing itself.

The slight wetness at your hole might be a betrayal, but it’s not nearly enough to ease the way when he pushes inside of you with no warning.

You nearly scream, a high sound of pure panic and pain when it feels like you’re being split in two. Somewhere off in the distance, you hear someone laugh. Right above you, Soap groans.

He’s buried himself to the hilt inside you before the pain has had any time at all to fade, and he’s fucking into you hardly a second after that.

Every thrust forces a grunt from your throat, the entire weight of him slammed into your back each time his balls smack against your clit. Your face is twisted up in a grimace, your whole body racked with pain that your assaulter couldn’t care less about.

“Fuck, kitty. Yer squeezin’ me so good, such a good girl, shit-! Knew you’d be ti-tight as a vice, fuck, but didn’t know you’d be squeezin’ me so tight I can hardly move.”

Your whine is plaintive, his moan is filled with pleasure.

“Yer gettin’ so wet for me, bonnie. Ye like this, huh? Bet you like it just as much as I do, gettin’ thrown around and takin’ advantage of. That it, kitty? Ye like being forced?”

You sob and shake your head against the ground, crying all the more when sharp pebbles dig into your cheeks.

“Naw, I think ye do. Why else’d you be- fuck, squeezin’ me like that?”

“Cause- because-” you try, but you can’t get the breath in to get more than a single word out.

“Huh? Cause- cause-?” Soap mocks, his voice pitching up to mimic you as he plants himself deep inside you, grinding his hips against the meat of your ass. “C’mon, kitty, tell me why. Go on.”

“Cause I want you to stop!” You cry, balled up fist slamming into the gravel. You can’t help but whine ow when the sharp rocks poke into your skin, and Soap’s laugh shakes your entire body.

“Good,” he whispers, breath hot against your ear. “Squirm all ye want, lass. I love it when you fight.”

You can do nothing but go limp beneath him as he begins fucking you again, his pace somehow faster and even more relentless. It’s a small mercy that there’s no fight left in you, that you can’t give him any more pleasure.

It certainly doesn’t stop him, though. Despite the fact that you’re doing your best impression of a dead fish, Soap pants and moans against your shoulder like you’re the single best thing he’s ever slept with. His cock is painfully hard inside of you, and his pace never once slows.

He’s loud when he finally comes, the sound of his orgasm clear enough that you know he’s thrown his head back to the sky. You can only whimper as he rolls his hips against you, working the last spurts of cum out of his cock and into your unwilling body.

“Fuck,” he sighs in your ear, sounding far more satisfied than he has any right to. “Good girl, kitty. You were perfect.”

You sniffle beneath him when he slowly pulls out, both of you groaning at the sensation. He gives you an almost perfunctory pat on the ass, and stands to walk away. You manage to open your eyes and focus just in time to see him slide to the ground in front of his partner, leaning against the wall.

“Yer turn,” he sighs. “Warmed her up good for you, Lt.”

Despite the hatred boiling in your gut, you can do nothing but lay limp on the ground and watch as his partner stands, cracking his neck and moving towards your prone form.

You want to run, you want to fight, but you can only watch the executioner come closer and wait for the metaphorical axe to fall.

He crouches by your head first, grasping your chin and pulling up until your torso tries to follow to alleviate the tension. He stares deep into your eyes for a long moment, and you find that it’s impossible to even tell where his pupils are with no real lighting. You feel like you’re truly looking into the empty eye sockets of a skull, no man and no mercy to be found.

“You’ll call me Ghost when I fuck you,” he rumbles, thumb stroking over the scrapes on your cheek. He doesn’t wait for a response, simply hauls you up by the shoulder and turns you onto your back.

He’s rough with your limbs as he shoves your legs together and up, his forearm banding across the backs of both of your knees and holding them to your chest. You whimper and wiggles as best you can, but the bruising blow against your thigh is enough to have you gasping and stilling.

“Don’t fight,” he warns, and you feel his gloved fingers running up the crack of you. “You’re hurtin’ enough as it is, and I’m not gonna help. You wanna make it worse too?”

You shake your head, unsure if he can even see you through your legs. He doesn’t respond, and hums when he swipes two fingers through the liquid gathered between your lips.

You whine when those fingers move further down, a fresh panic creeping in when he presses around your back hole.

“You should be glad Soap fucked you so good,” Ghost drawls. “He gave you all the lube you’re gonna get.”

You feel like an animal when you whine again, unsure of how to even begin trying to speak. You yelp when a thick finger slides into your hole, completely disregarding any resistance and forcing its way in until it’s buried to the knuckle. Your cries go ignored.

“Quit squirmin’,” Ghost scolds, pulling his finger out to smack your ass before shoving two back in. “You’re fine.”

You’re not, you’re terrified and hurting and upset, but none of those things matter when Ghost only coaxes more of your slick and Soap’s spend to your unused whole so there’s less resistance.

The only blessing you have is the fact that you can’t see more than the outline of Ghost’s figure with the way he’s got you positioned. You try your best to close your eyes and float into disassociation, and while you can’t fully manage it, the fact that you can’t see his face - his mask - helps you distance yourself from what’s happening.

The moment you realize this is of course the moment it stops being true.

He seems to decide you’re ready after scissoring three fingers inside of you, hefting himself up so that he looms more fully over you. You can only whine as you feel the movements of him unbuckling his belt, feel the weight of him slap against your slightly spread cheeks.

Fresh tears fall past your lashes as you stare up into the fathomless darkness that are Ghost’s eyes. There’s nothing there, just a cold empty skull prepared to ruin you.

You don’t even have the energy to beg.

The stretch of him inside your ass is five times worse than Soap was. There’s no natural lubrication, and nowhere near enough synthetic lube either. Your hole feels like it’s on fire, the stretch white hot as he gives you no mercy.

You’re not even fully sure what you’re babbling as he slowly sinks to the root, only aware of the pain and fear and panic sitting heavy in your heart. You fear you’ll choke on your tears, head jerking back and forth.

He sighs when he bottoms out, heavy barrel chest forcing your knees past your shoulders. Your hips strain, just another pain from the endless abuse.

“There,” he grunts, patting your thigh when you go limp from it all. “Stay nice and still now, just need a place to dump my cum.”

Upsettingly enough, that hurts. The idea that you could mean nothing to this man is somehow worse than the thought of him having some other twisted feelings for you, your hormone-addled mind deeply insulted.

His thrusts are long and slow, each one pulling nearly completely out before slamming back in. The sound of your skin slapping together is embarrassingly sexual, and a distant part of you is aware enough to pray that no one nearby had heard your screams and cries.

Ghost is near silent as he fucks you, the opposite of Soap. You can only hear the occasional grunt when you squeeze him because he’s inches away from your face - you can even feel the occasional gusts of breath when his hips start working a little faster.

There’s nothing you can do but lay limply beneath him and take it, just a vehicle for his pleasure. You almost manage to float away, to pretend none of this is happening or has ever happened, when his free hand moves from your thigh to the top of your cunt.

You nearly squeal when he rubs your clit, the smooth leath gliding over your slick bud. Your eyes fly wide open, back arching as much as you can with three hundred pounds of man holding you down. The loud laugh from several feet away only makes you writhe more.

“Make her squirt, Lt!” Soap shouts, his voice carefree.

“Shut it, Johnny,” Ghost grunts, voice roughened with pleasure. You don’t even have time to focus on the fact that he’s just told you Johnny’s name, far too preoccupied with the tidal wave of pleasure rushing towards you.

You have no idea why it happens. You’re never quick to come - almost every single partner of yours has complained about you taking so long to get off, it’s been an Issue in several relationships.

So it makes absolutely no sense that after hardly a minute of rough circles against your clit, you’re clenching down on the cock in your ass and moaning loudly as your orgasm overtakes you.

The natural clench of your body only makes the pain worse, a sharp spike of it running up your cunt and making your moan shift into more pained sounds. Ghost only moans in tandem above you, his thrusts becoming slightly less even as he lets your orgasm coax out his own.

You sob when you feel his cum paint your insides.

Unlike Johnny, Ghost doesn’t pull out after he comes. He lets your legs fall limp on either side of him, just barely managing to catch them for you before you slam your ankles to the ground. He leans his torso over yours, elbows resting on either side of your shoulders while you do nothing but wait beneath him.

He’s sweat off some of the makeup. This close, you can see hints of pale skin in the sockets of the mask. There’s nothing to read in his eyes, but that flash of skin tells you he’s still a man.

You swallow, trying to work moisture back into your dry mouth, and whisper, “Will… will you let me go now?”

You know it’s more likely he’ll kill you. It’s what you can only imagine happened to all those bodies in the streets, what you know happens to tens of thousands of women every year.

So it’s not a surprise when he doesn’t answer you verbally, instead covering your mouth with his palm and pinching your nose shut with his fingers.

Your eyes flutter shut after a moment, lungs tightening already, and all you can hope is that suffocation is a quick death.

———————————————————————

You wake, gasping, in a dark room.

You’re lurching forward before you’re even fully aware that you’re awake, coughing loudly and gasping when it feels like your throat is bleeding.

“Oh, poor thing,” you hear a familiar accented voice coo, and a moment later there’s a warm hand patting your back. “Yer alright, deep breaths.”

You jerk back from Soap - Johnny - as soon as your coughing is under control, scrambling back on your palms and staring at him with wide eyes. He only grins at you, looking for all the world like any other normal man in his sweater and sweatpants.

He got changed at some point - these pants are clean. He’s not wearing his mask either, and you’re struck dumb by how non threatening he manages to look.

He also changed your clothes - or Ghost did, maybe. You try to cover your chest with one hand, but there’s no hiding the fact that you’re completely naked.

Johnny only laughs at your attempted modesty. “Been starin’ at them for hours, lass. Ye’ve got nothin’ to hide.”

That’s… horrifying, and does absolutely nothing to calm you down.

It’s then that Ghost rises from a chair, stepping forward and making you aware of his presence. “Calm down, Johnny. We don’t want her panickin’ this early.”

Soap fully pouts, tilting his head at you before glancing up at his partner. “I haven’t even done anythin’, Ghost. Was just sayin’ hi, tha’s all.”

Ghost snorts, gripping Johnny’s mohawk and tugging back until the other man sprawls back on his ass. “You know how you are, pup. Give your kitty some space.”

Johnny listens, crossing one leg beneath him and bending the other close to his chest, looking casual as can be. Meanwhile your heartbeat only gets faster, and you wince when you happen to lean too far one direction and feel a throbbing reminder of what these men did to you.

Ghost steps forward again, crouching just out of arm's reach. You realize he’s not wearing the same skull mask as before, but a balaclava with a printed skull pattern instead. His eye sockets are unpainted, and you’re shocked by how such little things make him look so much more human.

“You can calm down. Long as you behave, nothin’ much worse’ll happen to you.”

You find yourself almost comically not-comforted by that, and can do nothing more than stare at him with wide eyes.

“Where…” Your voice cracks, so you swallow and start again. “Where am I?”

It’s Johnny who speaks up. “Our place. We finally brought ye home with us, kitty.”

The world feels like it’s slowed around you, and your eyes drag from one kidnapper to the other. You have to swallow again to work any moisture into your bone-dry mouth.

“Is the Purge over?”

The creases at the corner of Ghost’s eyes are painfully obvious with how pale his skin is, and you shudder at the thought of him smiling.

“Been over for… what, five hours now? Somethin’ like that.”

You can’t fight the tremble in your voice now. “Then… then you have to let me go.”

Ghost’s head tilts, the creases get deeper. “Do I?”

You nod with as much conviction as you can - which is almost none. “You can’t keep me here. You’re breaking the law.”

Ghost leans closer on the balls of feet and you lean further back, your spine pressing into the wall behind you. “Are we now? And who do you think will stop us, pet?”

“The- the police. Someone will report me missing, they’ll come looking.”

“Oh? And you think they’ll come here?”

You nod as best you can, and jump when Ghost laughs. It’s low and quiet, only a few beats, but it’s like gasoline thrown on the small fire of panic in your mind.

“You have no idea where you even are, and you think they’ll find you? I hate to break it to you doll, but you’ll be lucky if they look for you for a week. You have any idea how many people go missin’ after the Purge?”

Your breath is quickening. “So that’s it? You’re just going to… going to keep me here, forever? What are you even going to do?”

His laugh is sharper, meaner this time. “We’re gonna do a whole lot more of what we did last night, pet. Keep you as a little cocksleeve, a pretty thing tucked in the basement just for our entertainment. Ain’t that right, Johnny?”

You manage to tear your eyes away to look at Soap and see that he’s nearly salivating, having inched closer and closer and shifted so he’s knelt behind Ghost. There’s a feral spark in his eyes that has every hair on your body standing straight up.

“Yeah, tha’s right. Don’t worry, lass, we’ll make sure yer never lonely. Might even stay the night with you, cuddle up in the winter. Bet ye could keep our cocks nice and toasty in the cold, huh? Gonna let us use ye as a little heater?”

“A heater, a mattress, a fleshlight… your future’s lookin’ bright, sweetheart,” Ghost drawls, mockery dripping heavily from the cruel words.

Your eyes dart back and forth between the two men and their predatory stares, your heart racing against your ribcage.

It’s not a conscious choice for you to launch yourself towards them, reaching out and clawing your sharp nails down Soap’s face with a feral scream that tears your throat to shreds.

Even as Ghost throws you off and forces you to the ground, you vow to fight these men to the end. You’ll kill them both if you have to, leave them dead and wander however many miles it is back to your apartment.

Ghost only laughs when you shout this in his face, and you scream as you lunge forward, just managing to catch his masked chin between your teeth and bite.

With your fight instinct back in full force, you’re ready to make their lives hell.

#lumi im SORRY hand on the bible i could not tell you why this took me so long #it's pwp. it's pure smut. there is no justifiable reason for this taking a week #i literally have FOUR fucking docs of purge au's rn lmao like when i tell you i tried to write this SO MANY TIMES it was just not happening #ghoap x reader #bo writes #purge au #how do i tag this to get people to see it but not to get people complaining about dark fic to me #...i don't #oh well. special treat for you guys lol

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nctstar · 7 months ago

Note

Can you write a smut w plot on Taeyong x sub!reader x Mark ? I am craving for this pair please bestie...you can take your time, no rush. make them a bit possessive and dom and you can add anything to your liking.

hiii friend! i know this is CRAZY late but i hope you still like it <3 turned out a bit more sad than expected HAHA

dumb conversations, we lose track of time

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” He bent over to kiss you, bringing both of his icy hands to your face, but you didn’t care. The kiss was everything, and you brought your bodies over to the wall as you continued, one of his legs now in between yours. “Fuck, I think…I’m gonna miss you so bad.”

pairing: markyong x fem!reader (no markyong ship)

other members: other 127 members mentioned

word count: 3k

genre: romance & smut, angst, fluff, sort of hurt/comfort

warnings: sexual content so minors please dni!! mild profanity, mentions of being sick from food, kissing, dom!markyong, praise kink, degradation (use of slut/whore), daddy kink, slapping, penetrative sex, riding, oral (male receiving), manhandling/being held down/held in place, missionary sex, praising (sweet girl, good girl), crying (like lots of crying!!), subspace, double penetration (2 in 1), clitoral stimulation, taeyong is leaving for military service and this is upsetting to reader (strong self insert moment LMAO)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic.

a/n: NOW i know i was technically supposed to make this a (freaky) smut only...but i had to add the extra things because i have been sooo emotional lately and i have not really been in a smut mood unless it's emotional and loving :D with the release of the tortured poets department, taeyong's enlistment, renjun's hiatus...ya'll it's just been a lot. so a lot of this is very much just me projecting HAHA but hope it's comforting to some of you. also, i just wanna say that you guys shouldn't feel pressured to engage in sexual activity when you're sad and crying...everything here is consensual of COURSE as always, and this is all fantasy but i just thought I'd add that in. please take care of yourselves when you're vulnerable. love ya'll mwah <3

You stifled your giggles in the droop of your cardigan, but Taeyong still flushed red. Your cheeks puffed out as you fought the urge to snort in his face. “I’m so sorry.”

He rolled his eyes, instinctively going to run his hands through his now non-existent hair, making you double over in laughter. “Alright, miss, that’s enough. Hilarious, I know.”

“Noooo Taeyong, don’t be embarrassed.” You ran over, pinching his cheeks in your hands, feeling his skin hot and elastic under your thumbs. “You’re so cute. Like…Anpanman!”

“I know you love jjingppang, jagi, but that was so uncalled for.” You strung his arm into your body, letting the both of you walk away from the dim lights of the restaurant. “Why? Are you hungry? But didn’t you just eat?”

“There is always space for dessert, hon. Come on, we’ve been together 2 and a half years now, and you still don’t know my philosophies?” You were teasing, having fun, but as you watched another couple walk in front of you, hands gripped tightly together, the shadows in the trees dancing across their bodies, you felt something sharp poke inside you. You gulped the feeling down, forcing a smile, even though you knew he wasn’t watching.

“You’ll get sick if you eat too much bread again.” You shook your head, scoffing. “That was one time, Taeyong. And it was in Japan. I would definitely have eaten that much again.”

“Really? I recall you crying in the bathroom, whining to me about why I didn’t stop you.” You knocked him playfully, feeling his scent permeate your senses and bring you back to those times in Japan. He was here now, a solid body standing right next to you, brushing up against you, but…You felt a sudden rush of emotion, but you could see Mark’s car now, and you decided not to bring up what you had been thinking the entire time.

“So-“

“I’m sorry I’m leaving you.” The words surprised you, even though it was something both of you had been holding back the entire time. “I’m sorry I have to do this.”

“Don’t be silly.” You were standing in front of him now, the white streetlights illuminating every line on his face, too scared to look into his eyes. “You have to do it, right? And, you should be proud of yourself. It’s hard work you are willing to dedicate yourself to for a while. And, I can always take care of myself.”

“You have Mark.”

“No, I can take care of myself.” You nodded as if you were trying to convince yourself instead of just him. Your eyes watered, working against every restraint you had. “Please, just…it will be fine. I will still see you. Just, not as often. But you’ll still be here.” He held both your hands, bringing them to his chest, and you were looking at your shoes, watching them get blurrier, feeling him pull your body towards his.

You couldn’t do it. Not for the last time.

“Bye.” You let go of his hands, turning swiftly around and walking towards the parked car at a pace that seemed closer to running.

The warmth enveloped you, and you hastily rubbed off the tears, almost embarrassed at the thought of crying in front of him. Both of them. “H-hey, Mark.”

“You okay?” You nodded, and he brought your hand to his lips, lightly pecking it before he shifted gears.

∞

The apartment was quiet at first, as if it already sensed the loss of one tenant. “Just squeezing past, babe.” Mark’s shoulder brushed yours as the keys jangled in his fingers, his steps retreating towards the bathroom. You walked over to the couch, looking at the empty cake box, the one Doyoung had bought to celebrate. The cake crumbs that littered the floor, the frosting on the couch – you didn’t even have the heart to be mad.

“Is that frosting…on the couch?”

You chuckled weakly, sniffling. “Yeah. I thought I told Jungwoo not to make a mess.”

“You didn’t. You’re so quiet around the boys. So shy.” Mark’s breath tickled your neck, his lips grazing the skin hidden underneath your cardigan. He kissed you gently, bringing one hand to your shoulder, the one he had brushed. “It’s what I love about you.”

You smiled, watching Mark’s shadow cover you as he moved to sit next to you on the couch. “What a mess. This isn’t driving you crazy?” You shook your head, but you smiled, a little bit more genuine this time. Curling up next to Mark, you basked in the heat of his body. He pressed his nose to the top of your head, inhaling your scent. “You smell good.”

“You trying to get laid, Lee?” You felt his chest shake as he laughed, both a little awkwardly and without holding back, like he always did. You thought of all the times you fell asleep in his lap, feeling him stroke your body soothingly as you both waited for Taeyong to get home.

You sat up, turning, looking deep into Mark’s eyes. “I love you.” You kissed him, pulling his bottom lip with your mouth as you pulled away. He ran his hands up your back, connecting lips as you climbed onto his lap, so quick to bring your body against his. He held your hips in place when you stared to move, groaning softly as he pulled away from your mouth. “Are you sure?”

“What, am I sure I love you?”

“No, I mean,” he gasped shortly when you kissed his collarbone, a spot only you knew how to tease. “Easy, baby. I mean, are you okay with doing it tonight?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Your voice came out sharper than you intended, and you hated yourself in that moment for ruining it all. Desperate to stop him from continuing, you shut him up with a kiss, moving his hands from your hips so you could grind against his growing bulge. Your fingers in his hair, you dug your knees on the couch so you could push your chest onto his face. He moaned this time, tugging at the ends of your hoodie to signal you to take it off. You hissed when the cold hit your bare torso, Mark unhooking your bra clasp as you shivered. “You cold, sweetheart?” You nodded, but you were sitting back onto his lap, both of you shrugging off your bottoms as you talked. The cold drew goosebumps on your skin, but you felt wet and hot in the pits of your stomach.

“Fuck, so tight.” Mark threw his head back as you cried out, feeling the stretch harder than you remembered. He held you in place with a hand on the small of your back, another on your thigh. “Shhh. Come closer to me. Good girl.” He continued praising you as you sunk deeper onto his length, inches buried inside you. “W-wait.” You pressed a hand to his stomach, warning him not to move as you scrunched your eyes shut. “So fucking big.” Mark laughed, moving your hand away and bringing your chest closer to his mouth. As he licked and nipped at your body, you began to relax, your breath quickening with every passing second. His dick jumped inside you, making you whimper. “You ready, sweet girl?”

You tasted the tears before you felt them, streaked down your face. “Please.” you begged, and he began to thrust up into you. “Fuck, Mark, M-Mark!” Your voice carried through the apartment as he rolled his hips into you. “Come on, baby, that’s it. You’re our good girl, right?” You sobbed, bringing one hand to your mouth to quieten yourself, but he pulled the hand away. “If you’re gonna cum, you better do it screaming my name. You understand?” He held your chin into place. “Use your words.”

“Yes, yes, p-please. Fuck,” You gasped, feeling the ripples of pleasure run through your body. “I’m close! Please, Mark, can I-“

“Yeah, good girl, baby. I’m close too.” His voice was raspy, his thrusts sloppy as he reached his own high. You shut your eyes, feeling your thighs constrict as you came. You breathed heavily, the tears still running down your face. When the ringing sound stopped post-orgasm, you heard yourself crying.

“Hey, hey. You did well, sweetheart. It’s okay, I’m right here.” You nodded, feeling your body slump against him. “Can I pull out? Does it hurt? I didn’t hurt you, right?”

You looked into his eyes, feeling the way he held you so securely in his arms. “I miss him. I miss the three of us. I know it’s silly, because it technically hasn’t happened yet, but,” you sighed. “I didn’t know how hard it would be until it really happened.”

Mark hummed in agreement, wiping away your tears. “Of course. That’s not silly. And, I love you too, okay? I’m here for you.” You wrapped your arms around his body, breathing in his scent, feeling Mark pull your hoodie around the both of you. “You never hurt me, Mark.”

∞

You both woke up with a jolt when the knocking started. You climbed off Mark as your eyes shot open, and the both of you started frantically dressing, as if the person had entered straight away. “Who’s coming over so late?” Mark grumbled.

“Hopefully Jungwoo to clean the couch.” You muttered, but Mark was rushing to open the door after peeking through the peephole, and you frowned.

“Hyung.”

You knew it was him. But you couldn’t even move. In that moment, you were frozen in time.

“Hi, jagi.” His body stood looming over yours, his face red from the cold outside. You didn’t know what to say, rubbing the itch on one of your ankles to kill time.

“You’re…you’re here.”

“Yeah. It’s my apartment too, right?” He smirked. “Why, is the Anpanman look enough to make you forget me?” You laughed, sniffling, hitting him lightly on the chest. You noticed Mark raise an eyebrow, left out of the inside joke. Your stomach churned, your heart pining for a loss that suddenly was not lost, and it all felt so out of place.

“I love you.”

“You’ll live.” You scoffed, pushing him away. He laughed, the smile lines on his face making your heart soar. “I don’t think I’m gonna miss these stupid jokes.”

He kissed your forehead. “I think you will.” You rolled your eyes, but he was right. As always. You ran a hand up his chest, then, underneath the hoodie he was wearing. You gasped in an exaggerated, ditsy way, making your voice airy on purpose. “Officer, I think you’re pretty hard right now.”

Taeyong smirked, his eyes darkening as he gripped the wrist of your wandering hand. “Oh yeah? You think you know me so well? Wanna play that game?” In the corner of your eye, you watched Mark’s figure step closer. “She already did, Hyung.” He pushed his tongue on the side of his cheek, and you fluttered your eyelashes at Taeyong, feigning innocence. “I didn’t do anything. He’s lying.”

“Oh?” Mark looked pissed, and you only giggled in response. Taeyong brought his face closer to yours. “If I find out you’ve been lying, you’re done for. Now, on your knees.” You complied, seconds later being met with Taeyong’s length springing out of his boxers. You covered his tip with your mouth, but you felt your hair being yanked backwards and a slap on your face. “Did I say anything yet? Dirty slut.” Mark’s grip on your hair didn’t falter, and you whined. “If you want to suck me so bad, you better be ready to beg for it.”

“Mmm, please. Please let me taste you, Daddy. Please, I’ll be good.” Mark’s other hand travelled under your chin, tilting your head up almost uncomfortably, making you yelp. “Tap him if it’s too much, okay?” You nodded in response, and as soon as you did, Mark’s thumb pressed hard on your bottom lip, prying your jaw open. Taeyong thrusted inside your open mouth, guttural groans leaving him as he did. Tears sprung to your eyes at the sudden intrusion, the apartment now filled with the sounds of you violently gagging on dick. Your fists clenched by your sides. “Pretty cockwhore, aren’t you?” Mark whistled lowly, making you squeeze your legs in embarrassment. “Ah, so you like being our nasty little thing. As expected.” You shook your head, but he only tightened his grip, laughing almost cruelly in response. Taeyong pulled out when he heard you choking, inhaling air as soon as his tip left your mouth. “Not so talkative now, are you, pretty?” Your voice raspy as you spoke, you opened your mouth wider, sticking your tongue out. “Daddy’s little whore, yeah?” You could only hum in response as Mark held you still, Taeyong jerking himself off on your tongue. You swallowed the cum in your mouth, letting some of it drool out of your mouth. Taeyong bent over, spreading it over your chin, mixed with your drool. “Go and bend over the couch.” You went to nod once more, but he slapped your face. “Words.”

“Y-yes, T-Taeyongie.” You only used that when you were floating away, letting yourself go, and to be honest, you were surprised it had happened so soon. As you bent over the couch, you had an inkling that they were surprised too. You felt Taeyong’s hands on your sides, and you jumped. “Sorry, jagi. Is this still okay?”

“Uh-huh.” You felt wetness pool in between your legs. “Please, f-fuck me. Before, what happened…well, Markie…I’m sorry I lied, Daddy.” You heard Taeyong shushing you. “I want you to enjoy yourself, beautiful. Okay? Tell me if this is too much.” You sighed, relaxing when you felt Taeyong rub up your back, pressing hard in the way that you liked. Under his hands, you felt safe. Calm. Honest.

“C-Can we go to the bedroom? I don’t like this position.”

Your body burned, even though your shared bedroom was freezing tonight. “Fuck, it’s cold in here.” Taeyong held you close to your body, as if he never wanted to let go.

As the three of you sat on the edge of the bed, you began to ugly cry. Taeyong rubbed your back as you shook, Mark taking a tissue to wipe your chin. “Was it too much? Baby?” You didn’t know who was speaking, but you held both their hands, unable to stop the tears from falling. “No, its just that,” you rubbed your face harshly, feeling the days makeup rub off on your hand. “This is all so fucking dumb. I’m sorry, but, I don’t want you to leave. I don’t care if that makes me a bad person.” Taeyong laughed as he held your head in both his hands, pulling you into his body. Mark ran his hands soothingly up your thighs. “I think I love this side of you, actually.”

You smiled, remembering your conversation only a while ago. “Sorry I’m ruining everything.”

“Sorry but, you must be fucking crazy if you think that’s true for even a second.” Unlocking yourself from Taeyong’s embrace, you exaggerate lifting your hands up in surrender. “Okay, relax, Mark. Don’t call a woman crazy.”

“Especially not a horny one.” You snorted at this, making both of them laugh. Sighing, you tried to appear mad or even annoyed. But you hadn’t felt more free in days.

He was right. You were going to miss these stupid jokes.

The three of you rolled onto the bed, you straddling Taeyong while Mark left noisy kisses down the sides of your neck from behind. “I want you both inside me. Please.” You moaned as Mark squeezed your boob from under your shirt, your head on his shoulder as Taeyong pulled your panties down, the three of you momentarily and, almost comically, struggling with taking them all the way off.

Your hands splayed across Taeyong’s bare chest, you bent over to kiss him. “I’ll miss you.” You whispered against his skin, and he squeezed the outside of your thigh in response. As Mark sheathed himself inside you for the second time that night, he began to thrust straight away. “Still fits like a fucking sleeve, so fucking good.” Your breath quickened as your clit rolled against Taeyong’s bare cock, your moans thickening as you watched Taeyong lie beneath you. “You ready, my love?” You nodded furiously, Mark holding onto you with an arm across your shoulders, pressing your body flush against his. Both men guided you onto Taeyong’s length, the stretch now burning, firecrackers exploding in your stomach. “Fuck! Oh fuck!” You couldn’t breathe, pulling at Mark’s arm, slowly registering him shushing you in your ear. “Relax, baby girl. You’re doing so well. Almost there.” Taeyong groaned in pleasure, shifting the tiniest bit, which made you yelp. The feeling was so unfamiliar, and your heart pounded at the new sensations. “Please, don’t move yet.” Taeyong rubbed circles on your clit, watching your face carefully.

“Nghh, ahh…” The feeling of both of them inside you was starting to choke you from the inside, deliciously bringing you close to a release. “Wait, Daddy, don’t-“ You squealed as you squirted, your clit throbbing from the aftermath. “Shit, I don’t know if I can-“

“You can cum again, pretty. I know you can.” You moaned, feeling both of them bump against each other and into your walls inside you, wet and messy. “Oh my god, oh my…” you babbled, holding onto anything as they thrusted relentlessly, both their timing desperate and rocky. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for us, jagi, that’s it.” Taeyong’s voice rose in pitch, and you heard Mark groaning in your ear, pressing your upper body closer to his. You came for the second time, gasping for air, hips rolling without permission over both their cocks. You slumped over Taeyong after, Mark pulling out and resting next to you both on the bed.

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iztea · 1 month ago

Note

Would you ever be willing to draw atsushi, akutagawa, or other characters? They would look so ethereal in your art style imo

Also what are your thoughts on the recent chapter?

i have drawn Aku like. twice a while back which is a shame cause he's one of my faves and i like both him and atsushi and many other charas 😭 my Dazai exclusivity is purely accidental. He has me in a chokehold and brother, I've never been much of a fighter.

I've shared my thoughts on the recent chap on twt (more or less) so i'll paraphrase from there but overall i think it was very hype! i usually complain about the plot because the arc feels like suuuuch a drag atp but I've always considered bsd to be a very character-driven show rather than plot-driven (like AoT to give an example) so I've come to embrace the wackiness of the plot although it does tackle some very interesting elements this time like spacetime (more on that later).

Character-wise, it was very curious to see Fyodors reaction to like., the human spirit and just how genuinely disgusted and repulsed he was by Atsushi's selflessness; it really makes you wonder what exactly happened that shaped him into such a spiteful man (perhaps his liver was diseased aha ok no sorry). And then he dropped that line about Dazai not being fit to be his other half??? Which really raises a lot of questions, first of all being if Dazai was even aware of this soulmate fantasy of his? Did he ever ask ?😭 (he'd still refuse but still). Maybe if he stopped trying to kill him then he'd get the message. And not to make everything about skk ( their relationship is an integral part of the show IT'S NOT MY FAULT nor do i mean this in a shippy way‐at all) but....I'll just paste what i said on twt because im too lazy to rephrase it

and the MY GOAT AKU came to save the day although i dont think it's really him atm the fit goes crazyyyyyyyy harddddddddddddddd we love you harukawa !!! <33

i also . okay since they brought irl physics into this then so will I so hear me out:

-the AmeNoFuku thing exists in the the 4-dimentional spacetime so that means the principles of General Relativity still apply.

-What distorts spacetime? Gravity.

-Who can offensively manipulate gravity and cause great destruction and havoc? That's right! Chuuya in his corrupted form SO, unless the AmeNoFuku-triple-McCombo bitch opperates in the context of Special Relativity (because he did mention his body being in the Minkowski space where gravity is effectively neglected--but come on why would he that's such a cop out) then that means that 2+2 = Chuuya is fully capable of defeating that thing and saving the day if he weren't in France!!! thanks for coming to my TedTalk

#isn't it funny how #ur character is so OP that the only way for the antagonist to pose an actual threat #is to put actual physical distance between them and the source of conflict #ok i don't think chuuya would actually solve this bc it doesn't fit narratively it'll probably be sskk's business #but it's still very funny to think of how chuuya can totally use GR to his advantage #ask iztea

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runariya · 5 months ago

Text

Three-Shot: Infinity (JJK) • 3

pairing: alien!Jungkook x human!reader genre: alien!AU, dystopian!AU, dark, angst, S2L, eventual fluff and smut warnings: MDNI, 18+, distrust, panic attacks, trauma response, anger issues though kinda entitled to..., physical pain and bruises, fluff, fluff, and fluff, Jungkook can purr, mention of Stockholm syndrome, discussion about bonding, kissing, huge size difference, smut, big cock Jungkook because duh..., oral (f. receiving), squirting, unprotected sex (please wrap it if you don't aim to get preggy folks!), knotting, bonding, please lmk if I forgot something word count: 4.361

a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. Please do not use this story as your own. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

This story was inspired by the song 🎵Jaymes Young - Infinity🎵

01 • 02 • MASTERLIST

The door of the dock closes behind you with a heavy hiss as you're dragged inside Jungkook's spaceship, your heart pounding in your chest like a drum. His grip is unrelenting, digging into your arm, still tender from his earlier grasp. The beeping of the door closing sounds ominous, ticking like a countdown to your impending doom. Contrary to your panicked assumptions, Jungkook doesn't drag you to the cold, sterile white room. Instead, he steers you towards the cockpit, his steps purposeful and heavy. He forces you into your seat, buckling you in with rough, swift motions that leave no room for protest.

His face is thundering with fury, contorted with anger so intense it seems to carve lines into his skin like lightning. A vein throbs violently at his temple, and his jaw is clenched so tightly you can almost hear his teeth grinding. The bioluminescent markings on his body pulse fiercely, bright white now, the calming blue completely vanished. The sight fills you with dread, certain he’ll unleash his wrath upon you the moment you're in space, far from any possible witnesses. The very thought sends chills down your spine.

Jungkook rises to his full height, his presence looming over you like a dark storm cloud. He strides to his seat at the control panel and begins punching buttons with a force that’s clearly fuelled by his rage rather necessity. The ship hums to life, the vibrations beneath not comparing to the power he holds over you. You don’t dare look at him directly, but out of the corner of your eye, you see his fists clenching and unclenching, his jaw still ticking with barely restrained anger. The tension in the cockpit is palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife.

As the ship ascends, breaking free from Thraxor's orbit, Jungkook activates the autopilot with a swift, angry motion. Within seconds, he unbuckles himself and strides towards you, his shoulders tense, his eyes ablaze with fury. You shrink back into your seat, your body instinctively curling in on itself in a vain attempt to shield against the inevitable onslaught. His wrath feels like it's going to crash down on you with the force of burning lava, and you are sure, in that moment, that you won’t make it out of this alive.

Jungkook's voice explodes in the confined space, "What were you thinking? Are you mental?" He starts pacing back and forth, his steps heavy and agitated, his hand repeatedly raking through his blue hair in frustration. Each pass through his hair seems to fuel his anger, making him look more disheveled and ferocious. You don’t dare meet his gaze, the fear of provoking a physical response paralysing you.

"You could have died! You could have been taken! Do you think so little of me that I would trade you for anything in existence? And to a Silvex of all species!" His voice rises with each accusation, a storm of emotions crashing over you. "I've never done you harm, but clearly, I've been living in a fantasy, thinking you trusted me." Every word, every increase in volume, sends a jolt of terror through you, the prelude to your punishment setting your fear ablaze.

Abruptly, Jungkook halts his frantic pacing and spins to face you, his eyes burning with intensity. The sudden stillness makes your breath catch in your throat, your heart hammering as you brace yourself for the inevitable. "Why did you run? What the fuck did I do wrong?" he demands, his voice a raw mixture of hurt and anger. The words hang heavy in the air, and you’re too petrified to respond, your mind consumed by the dread of the pain you’re sure is coming any second now.

"Look at me!" Jungkook’s voice reverberates through the small space, a command that feels like a physical blow. You flinch, pressing yourself deeper into the seat, though you know there's no real escape. He strides toward you with fury in every step, kneeling down abruptly and seizing your arms. His grip is firm, one hand on the bruised limb, sending a sharp jolt of pain through you that you manage to hide. "Look at me," he repeats, his voice dropping to a low, insistent tone.

Your eyes snap up, locking onto his intense gaze. You suppress a whimper, the pain in your arm throbbing in time with your racing heartbeat. His eyes are a swirl of emotions, more than just anger. In the depth of his gaze, you see panic and a raw sadness that you hadn't expected. His grip, though strong, feels less like a threat and more like a desperate plea for understanding.

As you're forced to look into Jungkook's eyes, the intensity of the emotions you find there throws you off balance. The fury is present, but it’s the panic and sadness swirling beneath the surface that dominate his gaze, emotions so uncharacteristic for him that you feel a pang of confusion and shock. His eyes glisten with a barely noticeable film of tears, his struggle to control them evident in the way his expression tightens and his breathing hitches.

"Someone could have taken you. How am I supposed to protect you from harm if you sprint full force into it?" His grip tightens again slightly, the pressure sending a shockwave of pain through your already bruised arm. You flinch involuntarily, a small, pained whimper escaping your lips as you try to pull away from the agony.

At the sound of your whimper, Jungkook releases you as if scalded, his eyes widening in shock as he takes in the bruises on your arm. He curses under his breath, standing up abruptly and leaving the room in a rush. You take the brief respite to steady your racing heartbeat and ragged breathing, the adrenaline still surging through your veins making it difficult to calm down. But as Jungkook returns, your nerves flare up again, a fresh wave of nausea washing over you. The years of survival instinct are hard to shake off; the tiniest incident still sends you spiralling back into a state of heightened alertness and fear, a deeply ingrained habit that you can’t easily break.

Jungkook kneels before you again, his demeanour noticeably more composed than it had been just minutes earlier, yet the sadness lingering in his eyes remains palpable. With gentle hands, he unscrews a tube of ointment, squeezing a generous amount onto his fingers before carefully applying it to the bruises mottling your arm in angry shades of red and blue. The cool ointment soothes your inflamed skin, but it’s the unexpected tenderness of his touch that surprises you the most.

His voice, now soft and melodic, reaches you, "I'm sorry I hurt you. I forgot about my strength and your fragile body. It shouldn’t have happened. I...I can’t promise it won't happen again, but I promise I’ll be more thoughtful." The sincerity in his tone is disarming, chipping away at the walls of fear you’ve built around yourself.

The apology catches you off guard. In all your life, no alien, least of all a Nepturian, had ever apologised to you. Tears well up in your eyes and begin to fall silently down your cheeks. Jungkook notices your tears and his expression softens even further, a tenderness in his gaze that feels like a balm to your battered soul.

"You're safe with me. I’ll protect you with my life, you hear that?" His words, filled with a gentle promise, seep into the cracks of your heart, easing the pain and fear that have taken root there. The adoration you see in his eyes is unlike anything you've ever experienced, and it stirs something deep within you.

"I'm sorry," you sob quietly, the emotional and physical fatigue weighing down on you as the adrenaline finally begins to ebb away. You slump into yourself, the exhaustion taking over as Jungkook continues to tend to your injuries with a care and compassion that both confuses and comforts you.

Jungkook finishes treating your arm with careful precision and begins to rise, but your uninjured arm instinctively reaches out, your fingers clutching his shirt in a desperate plea. He looks down at you, his eyes wide with surprise, and then meets your gaze. You don't dare look up, fear and uncertainty keeping your eyes fixed on the floor. Gently, he loosens your grip and leaves the room, returning shortly without the ointment.

His footsteps are steady and calm as he approaches you. Standing before you, he carefully slips his arms under your thighs and back, lifting you with a gentleness that belies his earlier anger. You tense momentarily, unsure of his intentions, but as he carries you to his seat and places you on his lap, holding you securely with one arm while the other deactivates the autopilot, a sense of safety washes over you.

As you nestle into his warm, strong chest, the tension in your body begins to dissolve. For the first time since the human race ended, you feel truly safe. Jungkook’s protective embrace is a sanctuary, and the rhythmic beating of his heart lulls you into a deep, restful sleep. Your body, worn from fear and adrenaline, finally relaxes, surrendering to the comfort and security he provides and you longed for your whole life.

You wake to the steady rhythm of Jungkook's breathing and the reassuring beat of his heart. His strong arms still cradle you securely on his lap, and his hand moves gently over your head and through your hair. There's a low, purr-like sound emanating from his throat, deeper than anything you've ever heard from him or any other Nepturian. It's strangely comforting, and you wonder if it's akin to the way cats purr when they're happy. Your thoughts drift to this curious noise, but they’re quickly interrupted when Jungkook notices you��re awake. He stops stroking your hair, and the purring ceases. You startle, a sudden wave of anxiety washing over you. Is it still alright for you to be so close to him, or has he changed his mind?

Your heart races as panic sets in. The comfortable safety you felt mere moments ago is overshadowed by a creeping fear. You stand abruptly, trying to put some distance between you and Jungkook. But his hand catches your wrist gently yet firmly. “Stay,” he says softly.

You look into his eyes, which are nearly black, reflecting the stars and distant galaxies passing by outside the ship. You always thought his eyes were emotionless, but now that you're close enough, you see beyond the distant facade. There's a depth of longing and hope that you never noticed before. His grip loosens as you remain silent, and he reluctantly lets you go. You walk around his seat to the other side, feeling his gaze following you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

You climb onto his lap again, this time facing the other direction. As you settle back into his hold, his strong arm wraps around you from the opposite side. “I’m more comfortable facing this way,” you whisper, feeling a sense of relief wash over you when Jungkook visibly relaxes at your words. He shifts into a more comfortable position himself, and the soothing purr resumes.

Resting your hand on his chest, you inhale his scent. The whole ship carries his scent, but this close, it’s far more intense and comforting. He smells like what you imagine home should be. You watch his markings pulse in time with the heartbeat you feel beneath your fingertips, each beat confirming your past assumption. Without the fear that usually clouds your judgment, you trace every line of his markings with your eyes, appreciating their intricate beauty.

You know you're being naive, perhaps even reckless, but the comfort you feel from the promise he made is too precious to dismiss. Deciding to savour this peaceful moment for as long as it lasts, you gather all your courage. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you ask in a tentative voice, “Why do you have different markings?”

The purring stops, and Jungkook takes a deep breath, the sigh he releases resonating loudly in your ear. You brace yourself for a negative reaction, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he begins to explain. “Are you familiar with Nepturea Nova?” he asks, and you shake your head. “A long time ago,” he continues, “an ancient prophecy was etched into the sacred stones of the Temple of Luminescence. The prophecy spoke of a time when Nepturea Nova would face a great darkness, threatening to engulf the entire planet. It foretold the coming of a chosen Nepturian, whose markings would differ from all others, symbolising a unique connection to the core energy of Nepturea Nova. This chosen one would be the key to harnessing the planet’s true power and restoring balance.”

Jungkook falls silent, letting you process what he's said. The information is overwhelming, raising more questions than it answers. “And you’re the chosen one?” you ask, your voice trembling slightly.

He hums in response, tensing even more as if he's afraid of your next question or how you’ll react. “And how are you supposed to restore Nepturea Nova’s balance?” you probe further. Jungkook's tension increases, and his markings pulse more rapidly. You lean away from him, searching his eyes that now avoid yours, staring instead at the vast emptiness outside the spaceship. His gaze mirrors conflict and a hint of fear, making you uneasy.

“Jungkook?” you call his name, desperate for the truth rather than being blindsided by it. He clears his throat and finally explains, “The prophecy also mentioned a being from beyond the stars, one who would share a powerful bond with the chosen Nepturian. With me. This being was described in terms that could only be understood as human.”

Panic sets in, and you scramble off his lap, fear clouding your judgment. Jungkook hurries to explain, but his words only send you into overdrive. “According to the prophecy, this human would be essential to unlocking the full potential of the chosen one and the energy of Nepturea Nova.” You bolt from the cockpit, your mind racing with the fear that Jungkook needs to sacrifice you for his planet. You were right not to trust him all along.

Jungkook calls your name, his footsteps echoing as he chases after you. You try to reach your room before he can catch you, but just as you're a few meters away, his next words halt you in your tracks. “You’re my mate! That’s the bond!”

Your breathing is heavy as you slowly turn around, your hands shaking uncontrollably. Jungkook stops at a distance away, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He repeats softly, his heart broken on his tongue, “You’re my mate,___. I’ll protect you for infinity.”

The weight of his words sinks in, and though fear still grips your heart, there's a part of you that yearns to believe him. In the vast emptiness of space, amidst the remnants of your shattered world, perhaps this bond is the anchor you've been desperately seeking.

Months slip by as you and Jungkook traverse the galaxies, each day blurring into the next in a kaleidoscope of starlight and shared moments. At first, you weren't sure whether to trust Jungkook with his revelation of the prophecy and your supposed role as his mate. The idea seemed far-fetched, a desperate myth clinging to the remnants of a world you barely understood. But Jungkook, true to his word, gave you all the space you needed. He never pressed, never forced, responding only to your needs with a patience that slowly melted away your fear.

As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself seeking him out more often, drawn to the comfort and safety he provided. You began to spend more and more time on his lap, the place that had come to symbolise your sanctuary. Conversations flowed easier between you, his deep voice a constant balm to your frazzled nerves. Each exchange chipped away at the trauma you carried, and with every passing day, your trust in Jungkook grew stronger. You reflected often on the feelings blossoming within you—wondering if they were born from the safety he provided or if they were simply a byproduct of your circumstances. But even if it was a kind of Stockholm syndrome, you found you didn’t care. Jungkook was attractive, caring, and protective—more than you ever could have hoped for. As the days shot by like the stars outside your ship, you let your emotions flow freely, accepting your fate as it would come.

One late evening, after leaving the bustling planet of Targulais, you find yourself once again nestled on Jungkook’s lap. The sense of safety you feel with him extends beyond the confines of the ship. Whenever you venture out, he never lets you out of his sight, his imposing stature and the species he is, warding off any potential threats.

Tonight, you are both enjoying a kebab-like dish, its spicy aroma filling the small space. You hold yours with both hands, struggling to keep its contents from spilling, while Jungkook handles his with one hand, the oversized food looking like a mere snack in his grasp. You know you’ll be full after just a few bites, a fact that always delights Jungkook as he happily devours your leftovers.

“I assume we’re not bonded yet,” you say, looking up at his profile. “How do Nepturians bond?”

Your question blindsides him, causing him to cough violently. You pat his back, your small hand likely feeling like a feather to him than real help. Once he manages to clear his throat, he simply replies, “Sex.”

A tiny “oh” escapes your lips, and you both resume eating as if nothing unusual has been said. When Jungkook finishes his kebab, you hand him the remains of yours, which he accepts with barely concealed glee, a smile lighting up his face that makes your heart melt.

“What if I don’t want to have sex?” you ask after he swallows the last of only two bites he used.

Jungkook shrugs. “We don’t bond. It doesn’t matter to me.”

You lean away rom him, searching his face. “What about Nepturea Nova?”

His big hand begins to run soothing circles on your back, and if you could purr, you would. “You’re more important to me,” he says, his tone and eyes filled with sincerity that takes your breath away. He searches your face for any reaction, and for a moment, you are too shocked to respond. Just as his hand reaches up to touch your face, you gather all your courage, cup his face with both your tiny hands, and kiss him softly.

It is your first true kiss with anyone, unforced and mutual, filled with positive emotions. Jungkook responds immediately, his touch on your face and back delicate and loving. When you break away and look into his eyes, they shine brighter than all the suns you have ever seen.

“I love you for infinity,” he whispers.

Your throat tightens, unable to voice your feelings yet as verbally as he does. But you know, and he knows too. It is enough. You are enough.

Barely a week passes when you find yourself not just sitting on, but straddling Jungkook's lap. Your first kiss days ago had become the catalyst for your deepening desire. His tongue dances softly in your mouth, the gentle stubble on his upper lip grazing your nose as your breaths mingle with the slight moans escaping you both. Jungkook's purr forms a soothing backdrop, intensifying your longing for him.

Your hands trace the muscles of his torso, his defined shoulders, and his strong arms, his marks that pulse steadily with his grounding heartbeat. His pecs are firm under your fingers, the vibrations of his purr noticeable.

You've been kissing and grinding against each other for the past hour, as if he were your oxygen and you his. You're soaked at this point and don't want to stop. As you reach the hem of his shirt, he stops your hands and breaks the kiss. Panting, Jungkook asks, "Are you sure?"

You nod, trying to kiss him again and resume undressing him, but he stops you once more. "Are you really, really sure?"

You scan his face, noting the fear and doubt in his eyes. But you are certain—you want this, you want him, and you want to be bonded for life with him.

Smiling, you place your hand on his cheek, stroking his cheekbone as you take a breath and finally say, "I love you for infinity, too."

Tears of joy collect in Jungkook's eyes as he crashes his lips onto yours. With one swift movement, he lifts you in his arms. You giggle with a small yelp, not having expected the move, but immediately cross your ankles behind his waist and wrap your arms around his neck. As you get lost again in the sweet taste of his mouth and the soft feel of his blue hair, Jungkook carries you to his room and gently lays you on his bed, crawling over you.

He kisses his way up your body, over your clothes, his big, veiny hands tracing your shape. They start kneading your breasts as his purr intensifies. You moan softly when he kisses and licks your neck, so gently, not daring to leave marks on your sensitive skin.

"Tell me if I hurt you too much, love," he whispers.

You breathe a "yes" as Jungkook slowly undresses himself and then you. He's gorgeous-muscular, strong, and breathtaking. His girthy, long cock stands proud and leaking before his abdomen, pulsating veins running up to its angry red tip, contrasting with his blueish skin. The sight of his tight balls makes a wave of arousal spill out of you onto the sheets, which causes Jungkook's eyes to snap to your weeping hole. You don't feel ashamed at all, his hungry, loving eyes scaling your confidence to another level.

"You're so beautiful," Jungkook breathes out as he lowers his towering form to your cunt, taking a long, slow lick of your juices. He takes his time, eating you out as if savouring every drop. It's the best sensation you've ever had, his tongue strong and heavy within your walls, stretching you out. You know you're near when the purring starts to vibrate on his tongue and his big fingers play with your pearl.

He moves to his knees, looking at you with hooded, lust-filled eyes, his cock bouncing from want and his fingers scissoring your hole. You come undone, squirting all over the bed, his hand, and his cock.

"Fucking hell, __. You're a goddess. Fuck!" Jungkook moves over you, kissing you deeply while continuing to finger you, swallowing every moan you give him. "I need to bond with you. Please let me bond with you."

"Yes, Jungkook. I need you. Please claim me." You run your hands through his soft hair and across his big, muscular back. His muscles flex as he adjusts his leaking head to your entrance.

"Tell me if it hurts, love," he breaths.

You nod, pushing your hips up to signal you're ready. Jungkook pushes forward, his head entering you with a little resistance despite your soaking wetness. He moans loudly as he pushes inch by inch into your tight hole, your walls greedily swallowing him with pulsating urgency.

"You're so tight," Jungkook presses out, his face contorted with the effort to control his instincts. Your walls flutter at his words, taking them as a compliment. When he's finally balls deep, you let out an elongated moan.

Your cunt can't stop fluttering, wanting all of him. He starts slowly pushing back and forth until it gets easier to move.

You learn he's vocal, moaning and grunting melodically with every push. It spurs you on, kissing him more lovingly, moving with him to give him as much pleasure as he's giving you. He caresses every inch he can reach, his tall build enveloping you, making you feel tiny but oh so powerful.

When your moans increase in volume and you feel euphoria vibrating in your veins, Jungkook picks up the pace, pushing his cock into your leaking cunt over and over. The squelching sound echoes in the room.

"I'm close," he moans. "You sure you want to bond?"

Sweat drops fall from the slope of his nose onto your face, and that alone nearly pushes you over the edge. But you restrain yourself, wanting to come with him so badly.

"Yes!" you nearly scream, wanting him to finally make you his for eternity.

Your name leaves his lips in a moan as he finally comes undone. The sight is mesmerising—his eyebrows knit together, his eyes squinting barely open, watching you with unrestrained love. His big cock pulses, his seed filling your cunt as it sucks him further inside, milking him for all he's worth.

"Jungkook," you moan as euphoria overtakes you in an intensity you've never experienced before. It's like meeting him at the bottom of the ocean, where time is frozen and only you and he exist. You feel his knot grow inside you, making you moan and come a third time as Jungkook pants and moans above you.

His markings start to pulsate violently, switching their colour from white-blue to all the colours of the rainbow. He looks ethereal, and you can't stop coming down from your high; the sight is too overwhelming. Jungkook tries to pump the knot a bit further inside you while moaning just as uncontrollably as you.

Then, all the scars littering your body from a time you accepted to forget, start to shine in the same colours as his markings. They dance around your body, transforming to match Jungkook's. He looks down at you, full of love and fulfilment.

"I love you for infinity," he smiles as his cock and knot soften inside you.

"I love you for infinity," you echo, knowing that in this moment, everything is as it should be.

01 • 02 • MASTERLIST

a/n 2: thank you so much for reading! lmk what you think - also: drabble requests and character asks are open

Like what you read? You can find more here!

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writtenbyjeanofarc · 1 year ago

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#!! - 𝑰𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑻 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑹𝑰𝑴𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑬𝑵 — 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ; ᴄᴏʀᴏɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴅᴀʏ

(Cross-posted from my AO3)

CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER TWO - CHAPTER THREE

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: smut.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Griffith X You (fem! Reader)

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘:

Having been spoiled by your father as an only child after your mother’s death, there existed you, a young, yet rebellious maiden known amongst Midland as Princess Scarlet. Being the subject of envy by commoners who wanted nothing more than to overthrow the kingdom, you were rather…..indifferent. As a princess, you exercised pride in your achievements, deeming you fit for the role of succeeding your father on the throne.

Even after your father’s death caused by poisoning, your dream to have your own kingdom never faltered in the slightest. In fact, ruling over Midland with an iron fist has been made easy and simple considering your royal blood.

Subsequently, your ambitious demeanor and philosophy attracted none other than the military genius who led a group of mercenaries known as the Band of The Hawk. Sir Griffith; a man who never fell short of what were to be defined as a noble, if it were not for his common blood.

To put it simply, Griffith never planned on building his empire overnight. Instead, he harbored ulterior motives where he would rather…..bend you, the Queen, to his liking before taking over Midland.

….And the consequences of YOU having a fragile ego never ceased to reveal itself.

𝖈𝖜: none as of now.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊:

No smut for the first chapter!

To minors: this space isn’t for you. Berserk is a warning in itself. Go away. Do not interact.

Anyways, I’m back with a new fic and it’s basically my own version while still keeping the canon verse of Berserk clear.

In this verse, expect certain things:

— Princess Charlotte does NOT exist.

— YOU are the Princess/Queen of Midland.

— The story will mainly focus on Griffith, not Guts.

Before commenting, I would like to caution you for potential rape/non-con elements (it’s Griffith we’re talking about here) to be depicted in later chapters of the story.

What I write is pure fantasy, and is mostly just me projecting on my original character (in this case, Queen Scarlet) who has a rather peculiar relationship with Griffith.

Anyways, grab some popcorn, and chill a little while we watch our original character slowly get taken advantage of by the devil himself.

The Kingdom of Midland. Such is a name given to the central region of the Physical World where nobles dominate and savages eliminate. One had the luxury of resting within the comfort of their own home while dining with only the finest cuisine made known to man. The other had to hustle and kill for the sake of money and survival…....while for potential evildoers and traitors, the sake of achieving their dream.

It was your coronation day after all, one of the most awaited events in all of Midland’s history. Following your father’s death caused by an incident of poisoning, the nobles immediately turn to you as a successor to the throne. You were a bit nervous, so to speak, but ready to accept your new role and give your speech as the newly appointed ruler of Midland.

It was already sunset, the halls decorated with red roses, bushes, and your favorite type of flower, the Amaryllis. You just loved the sight of red the way you liked your tea. Red, so to speak, was your favorite color. It just looks and feels powerful, like the way sunlight pierces its way through your eyes. You liked shoving your presence down people’s throats, to make them remember your name as you rejoiced in your own superiority as the new Queen.

Red was the visual embodiment of your dream—to rule and render yourself capable of building your own empire. Because of that, the King, your very own father, feared for your safety. And boy, was that prediction true.

Not only was your safety compromised, but prior to meeting the White Hawk who was addressed as Sir Griffith, things went downhill after that encounter as a sudden number of royal guards dropped dead. Not only were you disgusted by the smell of blood that filled the hallways the week before your coronation, but the five words whispered to your ear was what sent chills across your spine. Those five words made you shiver in questionable fear despite you taking it as just an empty threat.

“You belong to me, Princess.”

And then came the surge of mysterious events such as your father’s death.

Supposedly, you were expected to be excited for such an event like the coronation ceremony as you longed all your life to become Queen, but something about the whole situation didn’t feel right. You were at a loss for words, being unable to understand why your father was poisoned in an instant and how planning the ceremony felt rushed.

You shivered at the thought of meeting the Band of the Hawk once more, immediately suspecting that one of them killed your father.

“Our beloved guests, our crowning guests, respected parents of the nobles, and that of the civilians. Ladies and gentlemen, good afternoon.” announced the event speaker of the ceremony. “Once again, we have gathered here to witness the coronation ceremony of the Royal Family to be headed by Queen Scarlet and the rest of the officials appointed to serve her Majesty. Kindly rise for the ceremony proper.”

A huge audience of youngsters stood to give thanks towards your family for a job well done in leadership, singing songs of praise as time passed by. You were, of course, getting quite the goosebumps knowing your time is up as a princess. However, you can’t help but falter, thinking of your father’s untimely demise just about two weeks ago.

You were lost in thought, unable to pay attention to the songs sung in honor of you. Something was very wrong. You sweat and panted hard, not because you didn’t know what to say or do given the situation, but because you didn’t want to actually meet up with Griffith and the rest of his comrades due to some suspicions about the leader’s motives.

“Before we start, may I request everyone to observe silence as the ceremony begins to maintain its solemnity. Reserve your ‘hoorays’ for the latter part of the coronation. Thank you very much for your full cooperation.”

The rest of the coronation ceremony followed. You were nervous, biting your nails as you slowly prepared your speech in front of thousands. You knew Griffith would be watching

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

Alas, it was your turn to give out a speech that serves as a public declaration of your aims, intentions, and actions to be taken to further improve the economic and sociocultural growth of Midland.

Standing up, you could feel the eyes of crowds searching you from head to toe, but none of them ever gave you the impression that someone was truly watching you.

At the exterior of the venue, there sneaked a young man with white, flowing hair and a pair of blue eyes. It was him. Griffith. He didn’t make his own presence clear before you, he covered his tracks very well. But, little did he know, you could peek at his silhouette from afar. Knowing he made his way past the guards with extreme caution showed his prowess in strategy and disarming opponents with great ease.

Yes, he just wanted to hear your speech. After all, knowing how someone would open up about a fraction of their lives would be crucial in undergoing one’s plan to achieving their dreams, yes?

This was your moment. You let out a deep breath and spoke clearly as you cleared your throat.

“Greetings, my beloved fellowmen. It’s been a pleasure having to meet with you all to this very moment.” you greeted the audience with a friendly, approachable tone. “Throughout this memorable day, I was able to discern all your prayers dedicated to me and my family, especially in honor of my father’s passing. As an inherent successor to the throne, I have maintained a significant awareness through the years that my people, spread far and wide throughout every continent and ocean in the world, were united to support me in the task to which I have now been dedicated with such solemnity.”

The muffled voice of your speech was rendered audible to Griffith from the outskirts of the palace. He was perhaps….fascinated by your rather….pushy attitude on things. It didn’t take long before he palmed the area between his hips, hiding such an unsightly appearance as he began to fantasize about you under his control. He wanted nothing more than to dissect you in every detail possible, to know your deepest fears and motives of having to rule such a flawed kingdom. But little did you know, was that he wanted this kingdom all to himself.

“The ceremonies you have seen today are ancient, but some of their origins are hidden in the mists of the past. Their spirit and meaning still rise from the flames of finiteness. Perhaps, they still shine more brightly than we’ve expected them to do so. I have pledged allegiance with all my heart that I shall lead this kingdom, uplifting it further to claiming a thousand more victories than you would ever anticipate. Throughout all my life and with all my heart I shall strive to be worthy of your trust.”

Griffith’s eyes narrowed as he hid behind the doors alongside the two guards who were apparently slain before they could even fight back.

He wanted you.

And there was nothing more satisfying than breaking one of the strongest, most powerful women who once took an interest in the art of swordsmanship. But he would rather not challenge you to a duel; not because he underestimated your capabilities, but because he saw such barbaric acts to be unbefitting of a lady with high status.

An hour later, trumpets played as the Grim Reapers of the Battlefield were to be promoted as bodyguards, yes, bodyguards, of your kingdom. The King trusted you to this group of mercenaries who promised nothing short of protecting your integrity and wellbeing as the princess. But one thing’s for sure, it’s that their leader was bound to be missing.

You stepped down from the stage to observe your audience for any problems which may arise from the White Hawk’s absence.

“Wait, where’s Griffith? But he was just here about minutes ago!” Rickert exclaimed. “He can’t just be wandering out in the open like this! Griffith! Hang in there! We’re on our way!”

“Cut the crap.” Guts said, alerting his fellow comrades. “There must be a way to proceed with the ceremony without Griffith being of any concern.”

“But Guts-”

Recognizing and appreciating your bodyguards (or perhaps, some new friends) wasn’t all that bad. Perhaps you were intimidated by some of the mercenaries, but they played an integral part of your big day.

It was only one moment within that band that spooked you, it was the White Hawk revealing himself—it was Griffith. By that moment when Griffith claimed you to be his, you began to not take those words lightly and managed to develop a slight sense of fear. What did he exactly mean by that?

You brushed off your thoughts on the matter and shook hands with nearly all the members, with Griffith being an exception (obviously). Rumor has it that he’s still hiding where the sun doesn’t shine, covering his tracks in order to reveal himself before you in the very end.

And God forbid what kind of plans he had for you that night.

#yandere griffith #x reader #griffith x reader #griffith berserk #berserk x reader #berserk griffith #griffith x you #fanfiction #griffith #berserk #berserk anime #fem reader

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arxims · 7 months ago

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𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘,𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋

After committing a serious violation of the Higher Realms protocol, You were punished to live on earth for 30 human days without your powers. Considering your lack of experience on earth, you doubted your survival on the mortal plane especially without any powers, you only had one choice, the human you met 8 mortal years ago. But you were completely oblivious of the chaos awaiting you on the mere mortal plane of earth.

au /genre : human!Jungkook x guardian!reader, fantasy au humor, fluff, crack, a bit angst, supernatural au

Warnings : mentions of dark elements like satanic worship and black magic, and human sacrifice, magical elements, spiritual elements, eventual smut.

Rating : 17+

This is a work of pure fiction and has no relation with the BTS members in real life. Please take it in a story sense.

ᴾᴿᴼᴸᴼᵁᴳᴱ

Word count : 1.4 k

In the multiple realms existing in the universe, exist the higher realm. A realm which is home to the guardians. A species created by the almighty creator, blessed with certain powers, born to maintain the balance of all realms and all multiverses. The powers and abilities of the whole realm was provided by a rotating Mystic sphere, called the Mystic core situated in the heart of the realm. The source of magic. The higher realm is divided into peculiar subrealms, each subrealms, houses guardians with similar powers and abilities. Air Realm, Fire realm, and all elementals have it's own realm, with Mind Realm, Space Realm and Time realm. Each realm was ruled, looked forward by the superior of each. And the most powerful realm of all subrealms is considered to be the Energy realm. And the new superior of the energy realm was Jieun, Guardian of Cosmic energy.

Though all kinds of energy guardians were present in the energy realm, one kind of energy was rare. The primordial energy guardian. The Higher realm will only contain one primordial energy guardian in one generation and it's a rare phenomenon of the birth of an energy guardian. After skipping a generation with no primordial energy guardian, born You, (Y/N). The guardian of Primordial Energies. Capable of controlling any energy. Even the primordial energies itself.

Growing up as an enigma, you were spoiled by everyone. Especially by the superior of that time, Boa. Boa trained you by herself, as at some point, energy realmers believed that you would be crowned as the next energy realm superior. But Boa knew you couldn't look after a realm all by yourself. She chose Jieun before her death. And Jieun treated you, Just like Boa did. It does erupt jealousy from other sub realms that (Y/N) of the Energy realm was given more importance than other guardians, given allowance to roam anywhere in the vast expansion of the multiverse. But one thing remained strict is the set of rules that has to be strictly followed by any guardian, even you. And you, of all, unintentionally violated it.

The council chamber of the higher realm was silent. The tension resonated on the pristine white walls.

The vast hall was filled with a tense atmosphere. The guardians of the various realms were assembled, seated according to their ranks and realms. At the center dais sat the Council Elders, who were also the superiors of their respective realms – Zephyr, the wise Elder of the Air Realm, Ignis, the stern Elder of the Fire Realm, and Aquarius, the ancient Elder of the Water Realm. Their faces were etched with concern.

You, the Guardian of Primordial Energies, stood defiantly before them, your eyes blazing with indignation. Jieun, the Superior of the Energy Realm, stood beside the Council Elders, her expression grave. Orin, the Superior of the Mind Realm, and Tharos, the Superior of the Space Realm, flanked Jieun, their expressions inscrutable.

"Elders, I implore you to reconsider," you pleaded. "The energy surge was an accident, a result of my inexperience, not malice."

Zephyr, the wise Elder, spoke up in a gentle tone. "We understand, (Y/N). However, the consequences of your actions were catastrophic. The destabilization of the time-space continuum and the Mystic Core's rotation could have been disastrous."

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the gathered guardians.

You stepped forward, voice laced with defiance. "I never intended for such chaos to unfold! It was a miscalculation, nothing more. Surely my service and loyalty to the Higher Realm count for something?"

Ignis, the stern Elder, leaned forward. "Your power is unmatched, (Y/N). Such power comes with great responsibility, which you have failed to uphold."

"Failed?" you scoffed. "I have dedicated my life to maintaining the balance of the multiverse! One mistake should not negate all that I have accomplished."

Aquarius, the ancient Elder, rasped, "We understand your frustration, young one. But the threat you posed to the very fabric of existence cannot be ignored."

All eyes turned to the Superiors, awaiting their judgment.

Orin, the Superior of the Mind Realm, stroked his chin thoughtfully. "While I empathize with (Y/N)'s position, the Council's concerns are valid. Her power is immense, and a lack of control could prove catastrophic."

Tharos, the hulking Superior of the Space Realm, nodded in agreement. "Indeed. Perhaps a period of intensive training and guidance, rather than outright banishment, would be more appropriate?"

Jieun remained silent, her expression inscrutable as she weighed the options before her.

You seized the opportunity, turning to Jieun with pleading eyes. "Superior Jieun, you have been my mentor and guardian. Surely you can see the injustice in punishing me so harshly for an honest mistake?"

Jieun held your gaze, her expression unreadable. After a long moment, she spoke, her voice heavy with reluctance. "Your actions, however unintentional, put the entire multiverse at risk, (Y/N). This cannot be overlooked."

Your shoulders slumped, but her defiant gaze remained fixed on her mentor.

"However," Jieun continued, "I agree that banishment may be too severe. Perhaps a period of intense training and reflection, under the guidance of the Council Elders themselves, would be more appropriate."

Zephyr considered Jieun's words, her brow furrowed in thought. "A reasonable suggestion, Superior Jieun. What do you say, fellow Elders?"

Ignis stroked his beard, his stern gaze focused on you. "The threat she poses cannot be ignored. But perhaps, with proper guidance, she can learn to harness her abilities responsibly."

Aquarius nodded slowly. "Yes, a period of training and reflection may be the wisest course of action."

The Elders exchanged glances, silently communicating their thoughts.

Finally, Zephyr spoke once more. "Very well. The Council has reached its decision."

The hall fell into a heavy silence as all eyes turned to the Council Elders.

"(Y/N) shall be stripped of her powers and sent to the Realm of Earth for thirty human days," Zephyr proclaimed. "During this time, she shall live amongst the humans, without her abilities, and learn the value of control and responsibility."

You recoiled slightly, but remained silent, her jaw clenched tightly.

"Furthermore," Zephyr continued, "upon her return, (Y/N) shall undergo rigorous training under the guidance of the Council Elders themselves. Only then will she be deemed fit to wield her powers once more."

Jieun bowed deeply, relief and gratitude evident in her features. "I accept the Council's decision, and I shall ensure that (Y/N) understands the gravity of her actions and the importance of her training upon her return."

The Elders nodded solemnly, their expressions a mixture of respect and relief at the resolution.

Orin and Tharos exchanged glances, silently acknowledging the wisdom of the Council's decision.

Jieun turned to you, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and determination. "I know this is not what you wanted, child. But as your mentor, it is my duty to ensure that you learn the lessons you need to wield your power responsibly."

You took a shuddering breath, her defiance deflating in the face of Jieun's unwavering resolve. "I understand, Superior. I will use this time on Earth to reflect and grow. And when I return, I will prove to the Council that I am worthy of my power." your fierce attitude returned.

Jieun placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I know you will, child. Now, go and prepare yourself for your journey to the Realm of Earth. May the light guide you on your path."

You never wanted to live on earth. But little did you know that the set of events waiting for you on earth would potentially change your celestial life forever.

Prologue is here. I've made some changes from the prequel since this was supposed yyo be a one shot with no romance and thus I never considered adding elements that could potentially lead the story. We'll here we are on our way to approach the fic. I thought it'll be better to post prologue before posting the chapters so that readers could get a good look on the premises of the story. But trust me, the story is not as serious as the prologue looks like. It's more of a less serious one. Oh I'm spoiling it more. But let me tell you, this more of a (Y/N) story than Jungkook story. So let's goo

I'll only start posting angel baby angel after finish moonstruck. So this is all you'll get of angel baby angel before moonstruck. This is more of a fantasy fic so be readyyyy. Love yall so much, kisses...

- mars

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ : @looneybleus @ttanniett

#jungkook #jungkook fic #bts fic #fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts #bts fanfiction #fanfiction #fantasy #fantasy fiction #supernatural

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azucarmorena97 · 7 months ago

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Money Ties (Jungkook Love Story || Pt.8)

Pt.7 || Pt.9

Your parents have worked hard to get to the top and have made sure to teach you everything you need to know to be successful in this business: from tough but lucrative financial decisions, down to the right ball gown for any given banquet. A promising and extravagant future awaits you- that is, if you agree to one teensy detail...

Son of Mr.Jeon Sr. and heir to June Company, Jeon Jungkook is an immature playboy with nothing to offer a woman but good looks and a crap ton of money, and he stands to inherit much MUCH more, so long as you both enter into the arranged marriage contract that was drawn up before the pair of you were even born.

You're more than willing to try, but you're not sure you'll be able to stand each other long enough to inherit a single penny...

Series Warnings: There will be smut in the near future and I will label those chapters as such. As I say before most of my pieces- I do not endorse any themes, ideas, or behaviors in this series. This is all purely fiction/fantasy! Feel free to inbox me suggestions/ideas/what you'd like to see in this series and I'll see what I can do! Enjoy <3

CHAPTER WARNING: SMUT!

Recap: That thick tension that's been lingering in the air from the moment you first looked at each other- anger, curiosity, bitterness, longing- it's here in this room right now. Every logical thought your mind would normally throw at you to stop you from indulging, is completely crushed under this desire...the desire to know one another fully. Somehow, the two-foot space has closed to an inch. So close, you can feel the heat radiating off of his face and onto yours; his eyes almost completely closed. He's ready...are you?

Your heart is beating so hard, you hear it in your ears- it mixes with the sound of his breathing, and your breathing, and his heartbeat; before you can fully even decide what to do, your lips act on their own. Or rather, they act on your heart's true desire. Curse these lips... It's nothing like you imagined it would be, and yet it is- and yet, it's more. "Please, don't go..." He whispers to you with parted lips, and it causes your heart to stir. Only hours ago, you were certain you hated him- that you were only going through with this marriage as a favor to your parents, to secure your future- But who did you follow Jungkook up to this desolate room for? Who did you kiss him for? Whose is this heart that won't keep still for him? You. You. Yours. Only yours.

You don't answer him; instead, you bring your hand up to the side of his face and deepen the kiss. This isn't like you. You've never done this before. Sure, your first kiss was long ago had during a game of spin the bottle, and yes, eighth grade had its fair share of games of 7 Minutes in Heaven where this boy or that would try to cup your then-non-existent chest- but you would always stop it before it got any further. You knew that wasn't love. You knew it was all fleeting. You knew you were promised to someone else... Promised to Jungkook.

His large hands come to rest on your waist, though only for a moment; they begin to run down to the seam of your jeans. He wants to feel every inch of you, but he's never been one to rush. You pull away momentarily to take in a breath, but he is completely uninhibited, moving from your lips and to your neck- eliciting a gentle gasp from you. You can't help the delicious sensation, nor the way your eyes roll back in response. You have to tell him before it goes any further. God, how embarrassing. "J-Jungkook," You can barely get the words out. "Mm?" He hums into your sensitive skin. For a moment, you wonder if you even should. Would it ruin the moment? "I-I have to tell you something," Your words com out sooner than your body is ready to respond, as your hair is still tangled in his hair and pressing him to yourself.

He stops before you do, pulling away gently. "What is it?" His tone is gentle, and his brown eyes look at you so softly.

"I...I uhm...I wanted to tell you that I..." You can hardly get the words out. You're suddenly so regretful of having opened your mouth at all. "Nevermind!" You say, trying to lean in again, though he pulls back further.

"What is it?" He laughs, finding your shyness to be both endearing and incredibly attractive.

You stare at him, biting your lip from nervousness before deciding to just bite the bullet. You throw your hands over your eyes and blurt out, "I'm a virgin."

Silence follows. Silence so loud that, if it wasn't because you could still feel the heat radiating off of his body, you would've thought he'd left.

After a moment, he gingerly removes your hands from your face- though you dare not open your eyes.

"Y/n," His voice is like honey. "Yeah...?" "Open your eyes, you goof."

His playful tone surprises you, and you finally do open your eyes.

He doesn't look upset at all- or annoyed.

"Thank you for telling me," This time, he brings his hand up to your face and lets it rest on your cheek, his thumb stroking ever so gently. "You're welcome..." You blush red, unable to say anything else.

"We don't have to do anything, you know. I don't want you to think I brought you up here for that. I really did just want to talk and then- and then we had this moment, you know and-" "I want to."

He's stunned by your response and it takes him a second to process, "You- you do want to?"

"Yeah...I just...wanted you to know so that we can take it a little slow..." Sheepish is the only way to explain how you feel. You're not sure if it's normal or common for a girl to openly say that she wants sex, but none of this is normal.

You and Jungkook are not normal people. And maybe that's why you trust him so...at least with this. "Okay," He smiles, leaning in and kissing your nose, "Come."

He stands and grabs your hand, pulling you lightly as he'd done leading you up here.

Though the room hasn't been 'in use' for a while, it's still very clean and well maintained. You'd have thought it sat waiting for a guest to come at any moment.

He leads you through white double doors that divided the living area from a beautiful, neat bedroom. The bed is about the same size as the one in your room, though there's also a small couch and a wardrobe. Not to mention, a giant mirror on the far side of the bedroom, opposite the window.

"Sit down, if you want," He says before disappearing into the connecting bathroom.

You sit down on the bed, admiring the small details in the room- desperately trying not to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, as you'd thrown on jeans and a hoodie to meet Jungkook at the bar, definitely not having expected for any of this to happen.

He comes out of the bathroom holding a small speaker and setting it on the nightstand. Oh Lord, you think, what kind of cheesy sex playlist is he gonna put on?

To your surprise, a soft piano melody begins to play; one that your recognize.

"Is- is this Wait for Me?" You ask incredulously.

His eyes light up, "You know it?"

"Of course...Motopony is great."

He smiles and walks over to sit next to you on the edge of the bed- but he doesn't touch you right away. Instead, he lets himself fall backward onto the white comforter, his loose button up opening ever so slightly to expose a good amount of his chest.

He doesn't ask you to do the same, just silently stares up at the ceiling- it makes you want to do the same.

For years, you've heard people say that your first time isn't as special as the movies make it seem. They say it's something to just get done and move on from so you can start having good sex- and maybe that's true for some people, but this? You like this.

You lay down next to him, staring at the ceiling too.

"You know, I liked you from the moment I saw you." You snort, "Yeah, right." "I'm serious," He says with a smile, "As difficult as it may seem, considering your so beastly and unlikeable-" You playfully elbow him, "Shut up." "But I did."

"Oh please, you looked at me like I was a bug on the windshield." "And you are, but...I don't know. You have this way about you. You don't take shit from anyone. You say what you want and you stick to it."

"Except with my parents," You say, solemnly. "What are you on about? When I saw you renegotiate that contract with my parents- if you can even call it a renegotiation, considering you just walked in and laid down the law- I thought you were on of the bravest girls I've ever known...it must've been hard for you to have gotten it past your parents, and then..." "And then?" You ask, looking over at him. "...and then when you defended me to my parents...when you saw my dad about to tear into me and you explained how much I was gonna be sacrificing for their dream..." He turns to you, "No one ever defends me...not like that...not at all."

Your heart aches for him in that moment. Staring back at you, is not the man Jungkook, but the gentle soul within the man...

Without another word, you both lean in again. Though this time, you really are ready.

The kiss is gentle for only a second, before you're both dissolving hungrily into each other. With one swift motion, he's lifting your hoodie up and over your head, tossing it aside- exposing your thin, lacy bralette. You're suddenly aware of the slight chill in the bedroom, causing your nipples to perk up through the thin fabric. He stares in awe of the heavenly sight, his pants instantly tighter.

"Can I...?" He asks, lightly tugging on one of the straps. You nod wordlessly, smiling at his politeness.

Is he always this polite with women?

He gently brings down the strip, pulling the fabric down that once clothed your pert breast. He brings his large hand up and takes you into his mouth, licking languid circles around your nipple. "Ah," You moan, the sensation somehow everpresent even between your legs.

Amazing how the human body works, isn't it?

His teeth graze gently against the flesh, nibbling just enough while his hand plays with your other clothed nipple.

"It feels so good," You whisper, relishing in this new feeling. 7 Minutes in Heaven has nothing on this.

"Just wait," He says with a smirk, suddenly bringing his hand down to the button of your jeans. Excitedly, you stare into his eyes- waiting for the precise moment in which his fingers find- "Oh," You squeal, his fingers resting on your clit, though he doesn't move them much.

He's intent on building up your arousal.

"What's wrong, Y/n?" He asks, the smirk never leaving his face, "Feel good?" "Mhm," Is all you can manage as he begins rubbing in small circular motions, bringing his tongue back onto your nipple.

Your quiet for a little, afraid that any noise- any breath at all- will mess up this feeling.

"No, no, beautiful," He says, voice low and slow. He called you beautiful, Y/n.

"I want you to breathe through this." "O-okay," You whimper, disobeying your own judgment and following his instructions. Anything to be called beautiful by him again.

With every deep breath, you relaxed more and more- he's right- this feeling is intensifying beyond what you could imagine.

You've never known what it's like to cum. If you're being completely honest, you've tried before- on yourself, but nothing ever seemed to happen the way it did for other girls. You even wondered if it would ever be possible for you to ever reach an orgasm-

but here Jungkook is, driving you absolutely mad with just a touch. Without a moment's notice, he's plunging two finger slowly into you, measuring how absolutely tight you are. "Fuck," You can't help but swear in his ear, which seems only to egg him on.

"Tell me how it feels, beautiful." "It feels good." "No, no. Tell me more. Good isn't good enough," He picks up the pace a reasonable amount, the palm of his hand beginning to slap against your clit in the absolute best way possible.

"It's fucking wonderful- please, keep- keep going," You feel your abdominal muscles tightening, "Shit, Jungkook."

"Not yet," He says, taking his fingers out, leaving you in absolute shock at the sudden emptiness between your legs.

He swiftly gets up and walks around to the end of the bed, leaning forward and snaking his arms around your thighs to yank you closer to the edge. He quickly takes down your jeans and underwear together, easily getting them off of you and onto a heap on the ground. You'll worry about finding your various articles of clothing later.

He gets on his knees, letting you rest your legs on his shoulders, "Look at you," he says hungrily, his eyes absolutely eating your pussy up before his tongue even has a chance to taste.

You feel shy about his eyes on you, but the vulnerability also feel oddly exhilerating.

He resumes playing with your pussy for a little, getting you back up to where you were, but then he switches to his mouth- and boy, does he know how to use that mouth.

His lips suck gently on your clit, a sensation you've never felt in your life- and one you could gladly get used to.

"Oh God," You hiss, trying to breathe as he said to do but finding it oh so difficult.

"What's wrong, beautiful? Cat got your tongue?" He teases between licks.

Again, your abdominals begin to contract and you feel yourself close- close to what? You suppose you'll find out in a moment or two.

Without ceasing his mouthwork, he plunges his fingers inside of you again, getting you closer and closer until your heat is threatening to burst.

"Jungkook, I think- I think-" You can't even get the words out before you finally do burst- a reaction you never thought yourself capable of. Without any hesitation at all, Jungkook is slurping up your orgasm with thirsty desperation, a warm satisfaction radiating throughout his body at the fact that it was he who first elicited such a response from you.

You pant heavily, overwhelmed by this experience, though it's in the best way possible. Your body occasionally juts from the stimulation of his tongue on your worn clit.

With a smile on his face, he emerges from between your legs- his face transforming from depraved beast and back to a puppy dog expression, though you can still see his chin glistening.

There's something about that sweet expression that makes want to go again. To go all the way. "Come here," You say.

He climbs over you just to plop down in the empty space on your left side. You're not sure what comes over you, but you bring him closer and let the tip of your tongue glide from his chin to his lips, tasting yourself on him like a serpent tastes its very oxygen.

Now, it's you who is depraved and ready to ravage him. Virginity be damned.

You let your fingertips trail down the small portion of exposed chest to the first button on his shirt, somehow managing to blindly unbutton every single one as you kiss him deeply and passionately.

Once the final button is undone, you climb over him so that you sit straddling his waist, and now youu're the one taking a moment to admire his beautifully sculpted chest, along with the tattoos that seem to poke out from the top of his shoulder. You'd never seen them before, "Take it off," You command.

He smiles up at you, eyes wide in astonishment at your ability to take charge. He obeys, wiggling out of his shirt. When you're able to see his arms fully, you find yourself newly aroused as your let your hand touch every centimeter of his inked skin.

He brings his hands to rest on your waist, his eyes unsure of whether to fixate on your ethereal face or full breasts.

You begin to grind slowly on him, his pants still in the way of you being able to feel him- but you're okay for now. You want to build the moment too.

You want him to be as desperate for release as he had made you feel.

He helps your hips with his hands, thumbs digging gently into your flesh, the occasional sweet sting of a slap on your ass driving you wild.

You move down slightly so you can undo his pants, pulling them down a bit to expose his- rather large- bulge, covered by the thin fabric of his boxer-briefs. Suddenly, you feel a bit nervous again.

You've bit off way more than you can chew- what if it hurts? What if he's too big?

"Y/n?" His gentle voice breaks you out of your thoughts, "Are you okay? We can stop if you want?" His gentleness brings you at ease, "Can...can we take it slow again?" "Of course," he says, propping himself up and kissing you, "Take your time, beautiful."

You get off of him and slide his jeans off as he'd done for you, though you leave his underwear on. You want a moment to familiarize yourself with him...with all of him.

His erection stands tall, especially unencumbered by the thick fabric of his jeans. "You're so big," You say gently, not even trying to be sexy- just stating a fact.

"Thanks," He says sheepishly.

"Can I...?" This time, you ask for permission, tugging on his waist band.

"Go ahead," He says with a smile, leaning back with his arms resting behind his head. Intent on letting you explore, he takes slow and steady breaths.

You slowly bring down the waist band, bracing yourself- Throughout your schooling, you've seen maps and diagrams of the human body. You're aware of what a penis generally looks like- or at least, you thought you were aware- but nothing would have prepared you for the size,

Or for how it would make your mouth water.

You take it into your hand, analyzing how your grip leaves a few centimeters of space between your fingers- nice and thick.

"Mm," He groans, excited to be touched by you, the warmth of your hand giving him instant relief.

Gently, you stroke up and down, loving how the slightest touch makes him react so.

"You wanna spit on it?" He suggests, eyes fixed on your mouth. You smile, leaning in and pursing your pretty lips to let a wad of spit fall onto the tip of it. That pretty, pink tip.

You work the spit up and down his shaft, though you can hardly help yourself and, before you know it, you're taking him into your mouth.

It's all experimental at first- this is your first time touching a penis, after all, but within minutes, it becomes second nature. You're careful to avoid your teeth as you bob your head.

"Oh, fuck," He moans, his fingers softly playing with your hair- he's trying desperately not to be too rough- he wants you to explore at your own pace, but God, you're driving him absolutely insane.

"Am I doing a good job?" You ask, your eyes becoming doe-like and innocent, though of course, you already know the answer.

"Yes, Y/n. You're doing a good job, my beautiful girl," He says through gritted teeth.

You love his pet name...Oh, to be called Beautiful always.

You watch his tip gradually become wetter and wetter as he prepares himself, involuntarily, for you.

Finally, you get up and help him out of his underwear, the both of you now fully exposed to one another- uninhibited by a single article of clothing.

"I think I'm ready," You say with a shy smile.

He nods, his smile soft and warm.

You climb back on him, straddling him once more- he leans back and leaves his arms at his sides, waiting for you to tell him when to touch you.

You're nervous, heartbeat furious in your chest as you grab his dick, guiding it slowly so that is rubs against your pussy a few times- you want to make sure it's wet enough.

Finally, it's positioned so that you can lower yourself onto it. Ever so steadily, you ease onto his thick member, easy at first. You watch as h closes his eyes, his mouth falling open slightly. Though you can't fully focus on him- you're busy listening to your body's natural reactions- then a sudden sharp sting- almost like a knife stabbing through a taut cloth, and then...a sea. Truly, a sea of wetness forms within you, easing your pain so that now, the pain becomes a dull sensation.

"You're- you're so wet," He moans, trying not to lose himself in you. He's aware that any sudden move can prove too uncomfortable for you. "Does- does it feels good?" You ask, suddenly really self-conscious of your inexprience.

"Absolutely, Beautiful good...so, so good..." He can't help but begin thrusting gently up into you. He's desperate for it. Smoother than silk, your pussy has got him unraveling already. You smile, feeling now a bit braver. You begin moving up and down as well, balancing yourself on the balls of your feet. "Can- can I go a little faster?" He asks, furrowing his brows with pleasure. "Yes, Jungkook." It's as though hearing his name breathed so sensually has flipped a switch in him, and now he's grabbing ahold of your waist, thrusting deeper and deeper into you, though not so that he'll hurt you- just enough to make it interesting.

"Fuck, Y/n. You feel amazing....do you like how I feel inside you?" He asks, bringing his hand up to rest on your cheek as you continue to work on him. Your cheeks burn under his touch, "I do- you're so big," You say, locking eyes with him. "I want you to do me a favor, okay?" He says, to which you nod. "I want you to rub your clit on me while I fuck you, okay? Grind your pussy down on me, that's how it'll make it feel good." "Okay," You say, eager to please him. You get off the balls of your feet and switch so that you're on your knees, driving him deeper into you. "Fuck," You let out as you finally feel his pelvic bone against your heat. Slowly, you begin grinding forward and backward, the sensation similar to when his palm was slapping against it earlier, though this is much more intense.

"You see, baby? Isn't that better?" His tone makes you absolutely feral. You could have him talk in your ear like that all night. "It does," You rub harder, another orgasm already building up inside you, "Jungkook, I think I'm gonna cum again." "That's it, baby. Make yourself cum again," He coaches. "Okay, okay, okay," You repeat, stuck on a loop as your brain seems to short circuit- all you can think or feel is this pleasure.

With a loud moan, your pussy is pulsing against him in waves of euphoria, you throw your head back in a sudden spasm and then slow down your rhythm, though Jungkook is still going- a delightfully welcomed moment of overstimulation. You want to see what it's like when he reaches that point too.

"Beautiful, when I say, I'm gonna need you to get off okay?" He says throw short gasps. Now who's forgetting to breathe?

"Okay, Jungkook," You say, holding yourself still so he can hold onto you, pounding into you a few more times, "Now," He says, to which your respond by quickly rolling over.

You watch as his cock immediately shoots out that thick milky substance up into the air and then as it drops back down onto his stomach. His face is that of utmost joyousness and delight, "Ah," He breathes, his hand pumping his dick a few times to make sure he's milked every last drop.

He is a sight to behold as he coms down from his high; like Michelangelo's David.

"Wow..." You say simply.

"Wow," He smiles, looking over at you, reaching over to lightly pinch your cheek.

"What did you think?" He asked. "Well, I can honestly say it was the best I've ever had." "Oh shut up," He chuckles, though he brings you in closer to him. Being in his arms like this...it's one of the nicest feelings you've ever experienced. No man has ever shown you this level of affection, and knowing he's the first...it feels good. It feels right.

After a moment, he pulls away, covering his crotch sheepishly, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom really quickly."

You laugh and wave him away, taking the opportunity to stretch out on the bed. Bliss; that's the only way to describe this present feeling.

A vibration against the nightstand brings you out of your daze and when you look over, you realize it's Jungkook's phone- and then you realize it's a text... from Lisa.

𝗟𝗶𝘀𝗮: 𝗞𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲, 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂? 𝗜 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 <𝟯

Your heart begins to pound in your chest. You look over at the bathroom door, still closed, though you've heard a flush.

Without another thought, you dart out of the bed, quickly yanking on your clothes, making sure to leave absolutely no trace of yourself behind in that room.

You finally hear the bathroom door open though when you do, the hotel room door is already clicking shut behind you.

A/N: Hope y'all enjoyed this spicy one! Took me all day to write. Clearly, it's about to get juicy.

#bts #jungkook #suga #bts imagine #jin #namjoon #jimin #bangtan sonyeondan #angst #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic

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cochart · 2 months ago

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Another sort of rant about k-romance genre incoming… beware!

I hope I have better opportunities next year that are more stable and pay better.

Anyway, here’s another Tale from the K-Romance Crypt.

There are two things I realized while working in the k-romance industry.

The first is that no matter what people think or feel on Tumblr, fandom, or artsy spaces online, most people are vehemently, enthusiastically, and ragingly straight. I think it’s very easy for “artsy” people or people who spend a lot of time in fandom spaces to think that the majority of people enjoy gay ships or at least that a gay ship is as popular as a straight ship. But this cannot be far from the truth. Number-wise, both the demand and the supply for straight content trumps that for gay content by huge margins. While working for multiple companies, I’ve expressed that I’d also like to work with GL or BL content as well. They just don’t come by as often. It might be difficult to imagine it since there are bunch of super famous BL webtoons. But when we’re talking about pure numbers, yes, it’s the straight romance fantasy stuff that’s the majority of the lineup.

Like it or not, a lot of women and girls still like to read about a girl getting a man and ending up with two kids and a white picket fence.

The second is that I do not enjoy (straight) romance as a genre. I just don’t like it, man. I thought I was neutral because there are fictional straight couples that I always loved like Beren and Luthien, Faramir and Eowyn, Ranma and Akane, Heiji and Kazuha, etc. I generally don’t care if the couple is gay or straight or whatever as long as I find them cute together.

But no. After staring into the depths of k-romance, I don’t think romance as a genre is for me. A lot of it has to do with the fact that romance as a genre is sort of a wish-fulfillment writing (think Twilight). It’s something that delivers what it promises. And if you’re not someone looking to get that sort of fulfillment, such literature of desire does little for you.

Here is why I think romance is basically like slasher.

Some people criticize romance genre for being formulaic. But I don’t think that’s the issue at all.

I mean, slasher is formulaic too. You have bunch of characters and a killer who kills most of them by the end of the movie. Just as romance enjoyers can forgive some plot holes as long as they get what they want (girl getting a man), slasher fans can withstand some bad plot as long as they get the thrill and the kill. It’s when the works miss critical boxes—the girl gets no romance or nobody dies in the slasher film—that the audience gets angry.

Is slasher genre morally “good”? Not really. I wouldn’t say it’s evil though fundamentalist Christians might disagree. It’s a guilty pleasure that a select few enjoy. Sometimes, it crosses lines and deserves some good criticism.

Likewise, I don’t think romance as a genre is “bad” even if they’re not feminist masterpieces. If some straight women have fantasies about marrying a hot dude and becoming a soccer mom, what of it?

The problem, in my opinion, is that most straight romance fans do not realize that while what they like might be popular, it is not universal. Whenever there is some criticism on k-romance or romance fantasy, the fans come screaming about how the critics of the genre are just misogynists who hate anything women like. I get that they might be sensitive because there are dumb dudebros who do go on a rant, but I also wish they would realize that romance as a genre is not for every woman either. In fact, I think it’s for a specific subset of straight women.

Anyway, realizing that romance is like slasher helped me feel less puzzled(?) by them. It’s a desire I’d never truly understand, and I would probably never not feel exhausted working with such content, but it exists.

#coch text

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glitter-stained · 1 month ago

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Some of the posts I see here y'all gotta stop seeing fanfics as "bad dc takes". Like, it's perfectly fine to not like a trope that's popular in fanfic, but you gotta stop seeing it as character meta is what I'm saying. Fanfic writers are not canon writers, they do not owe you canon compliant, and you don't get to assume that what they're writing comes from a place of ignorance when there are so many reasons to include/not include something in your fic.

Like, allow me to use my own fics as example since they're the only one I have background info on the knowledge and motivations of the author:

-I wrote a fic with Lazarus Rage in it once. Do I know it's not canon? Absolutely. Do I think it's necessary for the understanding of Jason's character? Not at all, I think canon Jason is more interesting without the pit rage. I just wanted to write it once because it looked cathartic and you know what? It was. It was super cathartic. I wanted to write a story about the progression of a depressive episodes and using pit rage to talk about the feeling of loss of control with intense anger issues and sensation of loss and deep self-hatred afterwards, and i thought writing this is gonna feel good and it felt good, for me and for the readers.

-I'm also currently finishing another fic, in which I've simplified Tim's relationship with Jason's a lot (basically Tim is still haunted by Jason's ghost and Dick is still his favourite Robin but the victim blaming is much less intense and there's an intense, genuine admiration for Jason and happiness to get him back). Is it because I hate canon and its complexity? No, I love it, I love when character relationships are fucked up and they make a mess. I'd love to explore that in a different fic, even have the prompt already. But I'm writing a really intense fic about trauma, taboo and lack of communication around sexual abuse, and there are so many characters pov and things happening and I have to do this right because we're talking about things that happen to real people and not being accidentally insensitive or sending a shit message is more important to me than perfect canon compliance, and it's just not the place for it. This story isn't about tim, and it's not about victim-blaming. It's a fascinating can of worms to open, but I'm not gonna open it if I don't have the space to deal with it because I'm not gonna let worms roam freely all over my fanfic when I can choose not to include the worms in my story, because it might rely on base material but it's still a finite story that exists within its own scope because I'm not a comics writer, I'm a fanfic writer and my story doesn't exist as a pure extension of the comics and I don't owe you canon compliance. And how boring would that be if we could only write canon compliant stuff! No more coffee shop aus, no powers aus, fantasy aus, no more non canon ships between characters that hated eachother until the day they died (but had so much sexual tension)... Fanfic is not one single entity that takes place in a simplified version of the canon universe complete with consistent lukewarm tropes and watered down understanding of characters. Fanfics are rich and diverse and yeah canon compliant is great and i want more of it but the universe is so much wider and that's what makes it rich! Do some people write fanfic and also don't interact with or know canon? Sure, plenty of them. Does that fanfic reflect their opinion of canon? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. You don't know that. In the meantime, people are still creating extra content and enriching the fandom experience and if you don't like it, genuinely, the filter tags button is right there. That's not to say there are no racist or classist or sexist tropes in fanfics, but again that exists within the scope of that story. Bad writing exists in canon, and it exists in fanfics, and sometimes a story is canon compliant with a terrible message and sometimes a story is canon divergent with a terrible message and pushing away everyone who writes things that aren't canon compliant is not going to fix these issues in the dc fandom. Telling people to "not write the character at all if you're going to write them ooc" assumes your understanding of what is essential to the character is perfect and The Right Way to interact with a fandom and it's patronising and not only do you take the risk of looking like a moron the second you make a mistake, it is actual gatekeeping and the reason many people find getting into comics/fandom intimidating in the first place. (And it also shits on the potential of AUs like dark reflections, mafia etc. Of course Mafia Bruce who kills people is deeply ooc. These stories are still fun and it's not wrong to write them!)

"This story really should have addressed that thing that happens in canon" did it happen in the setting of the fic? No? Then shut up and let the fic tell its own story, it doesn't have to "address" anything it doesn't have space for. Again, don't like don't read is a thing. Fanfic enriches the fandom, it doesn't take away from it, but you know what can? Canon writing. I'm way more concerned with what dc is having batman represent nowadays than with fanfic I haven't read because I knew I wouldn't like it.

TLDR: It's understandable to be upset when people who don't interact with canon material at all try to assert their opinion on canon as the truth, especially if they call any attempt at disagreeing with the mischaracterization gatekeeping, but that doesn't make you immune to being a gatekeeper. Assuming you know a writer's knowledge and opinions on a character because of that one fic of them is naive and a misunderstanding of what fanfic is. Fanfic writers are still real people who give you cool stuff for free and you don't have to like it but you still have to be respectful about it, and all that negative energy you spend on rants about "bad character and" you've read in fanfics would be so much better spent on bad canon writing because these people do have the power to fuck your favourite character over and they do owe you canon compliance, and with the amount of effort some fanfic writers put into their fics compared to some of the writers who get payed to write canon, you guys could stand to be more respectful about fanfics.

#dc #dc comics #batfam #rant #batfam fanfiction #ao3 vent #to be clear i am fine #i get very little hate people in my comments are awesome and i rarely take tumblr posts personally #however i do get protective of other batfam writers when I see comments or posts I know are about the kind of things they write #because I know how much work gets into writing and if that was the feedback I felt for putting these stories into the world #i would feel so disgusted and discouraged from interacting with fandom/writing fanfic #anyway be nice with fanfic writers guys #they're doing it for free choosing to share with you you didn't pay for it it's not a product to consume #don't like don't read

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mercurytojupiter · 10 months ago

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chapter two - the labyrinth

a/n: ariadne is so funny to me like theres nothing like pure deflection to make me giggle!!

warnings: farleigh being farleigh, which includes mentions of underage sex, drugs, drinking, cigarettes and sex 18+

fic summary: ariadne gavin and her childhood best friend turned enemy return to saltburn for the last time

Ariadne lounges on the loveseat in Farleigh's room while he lies on the floor just below her. She had missed this. The feeling of just existing in a space with him with no obligation to speak or even interact. Sharing the room was more than enough.

Farleigh sits up from his position, head now just beside her knee. "So, did you get pissed 'cause you heard I was fucking Vaillancourt?"

"Mm," Ariadne mutters, neither a confirmation nor a denial.

"Were you," Farleigh swings onto the couch beside her, his long limbs splaying in every direction. "jealous?"

Ariadne coughs. "Well. No, I wouldn't say jealous."

It wasn't. Not because jealous isn't an apt word, but it isn't a good enough descriptor of the depth of betrayal and envy she had felt. She didn't think such a word even existed.

"If I ask Vee, will she tell me the same thing?" Farleigh mumbles.

Ariadne curses in her head. "I walked in on you two. You were the only person in the entire country I trusted and you were having sex with her instead of-"

"With you?" Farleigh asks suggestively.

"Instead of taking care of me like I took care of you. I moved to England to help you progress and you just threw yourself at every breathing human in a five-mile radius. I literally couldn't keep a hold on you."

Farleigh sighs. "You were so independent, Ari. You knew exactly who you were and what you wanted and I felt a little behind the curve. I didn't want to hold you back."

"Well, you were all I had to depend on, so, of course, I was independent," Ariadne grumbles.

Farleigh throws an arm around her shoulder. "I should have been there for you, Ari."

"And I shouldn't have tried to run away from you. Friends?" She concedes.

"Best." He agrees. "Now, the fuck are you reading?"

"Game of Thrones. It's like fantasy political science." She explains excitedly, launching into a rant about the complex characters she had recently found herself enveloped in.

She is so deep in her explanation that she doesn't notice how Farleigh's eyes follow her movements, warm and wanting.

Ariadne continues, undeterred. "And Sansa, she's the eldest daughter, she-"

"I missed you," Farleigh says in the middle of her speech.

Ariadne rolls her eyes, "Yeah, whatever Farleigh. We're friends again, but you seemed perfectly content where you were."

And that was the part that made Ariadne embarrassed. Farleigh was comfortable everywhere, and yet somehow, someway, even when they had spent seven years unable to get along, all of her friends were just his friends, or his cousin's, or his cousin's friends.

Ariadne felt like a human leech sometimes when she remembered how Farleigh had gifted her the life she had now.

Farleigh shakes his head, laughing, and lights a blunt. "Well, I guess I'm glad it looked that way."

Ariadne pulls it from his lips, ignoring the soft whine of complaint that emits from his lips while she does so. "You do not get to be the only one high for this conversation. And anyway, what, you weren't comfortable?"

Farleigh gives a little puff of air. "I wasn't ever comfortable without you. You were like, the only person that got my jokes and didn't think I was an asshole."

"Yeah, until you were," Ariadne mentions, breathing the smoke into his face.

"Fair enough," he laughs, and what a beautiful, light sound it is, that laugh. The way his body seems to rock with it, curling and stretching his long limbs to accept the noise.

She really, really wants to kiss him, and so she steels herself by looking away with a snort. "D'ya wanna watch a movie?"

Farleigh shrugs. "High? With you? Fuck let's see it."

Ariadne strolls back to her room, Farleigh hot on her heels, and digs into her suitcase.

"I know it's in here somewhere," she mutters frustratedly.

Farleigh turns on the TV, boots up the DVD player, and has Duncan bring them food for the munchies all before, "I fucking found it!"

Farleigh gives her a look of disbelief. "Pride and Prejudice the film?"

"Well you know I love the book, and this one has Keira Knightley in it!"

"I know, I saw the trailers, just-" he sputters. "Pride and Prejudice? It's kind of a chick flick, Ari." He rolls his eyes but smiles as he positions himself on her bed. He looks so comfortable there which makes her heart stop for just a moment before continuing.

"And? I'm a chick!" Ariadne defends, popping the DVD in.

Ariadne curls onto the bed, Farleigh beside her, as they pass the blunt between the two of them. She feels like she's atop a cloud, Farleigh's long arms wrapped tightly around her as he mumbles into her curly hair about the movie.

Ariadne was never very talkative when high. She was sort of glazed over, simply easing into the air around her, and, as a result, easing into Farleigh's body.

"Hold on, is he being serious? I never actually read the book, it was sorta your thing." Farleigh looks down at her inquisitively. He was so touchy. She didn't dislike it, of course, but she didn't like it either, if only because it was hard to focus on the intimate workings of Lizzie and Darcy when every inch of exposed skin that he touched was on fire.

"Really? Now you have to. I'll give you my copy." Ariadne hums without thinking.

Farleigh nods. "I will take you up on that."

He falls asleep, and she shakes him awake for the Missus Darcy line.

"That's so unrealistic." Farleigh groans.

Ariadne rolls her eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you had such extensive experience with living in the Regency era."

"Well," Farleigh says, "I may not be exactly from the eighteen-hundreds, but Saltburn is close enough, and that would never happen."

"Why?" Ariadne asks instinctively.

Farleigh holds her face in his hands, and she suddenly recollects how large they are when his pointer and index finger dig into her hair whilst the heel of his palm rests on her jaw. "Because, my innocent little princess, no rich person can truly be happy."

Ariadne shakes her head. "No."

"No?" Farleigh repeats her, a wide grin across his lips.

"I'm going to be happy one day, and I'm going to be in love with someone who loves me back, I got a tattoo about it. England is not the whole world, and it is definitely not my whole world," She argues, exhaling so close to his face she can see the tiny pores and ridges in his nose.

Farleigh smiles fondly and releases her face, wrapping one arm back around her. "Good luck with that, Ari. Good fucking luck."

She huffs but lets him snuggle his head into the crook of her neck.

She doesn't even notice that when he leaves to get ready for dinner - about halfway through Ten Things I Hate About You - he takes the copy of Pride and Prejudice off of her desk, and she certainly doesn't remember that the copy on her desk has almost a decade's worth of annotations and notes, many of them openly stating Farleigh's name.

For dinner that night, she wears a strappy red dress and Farleigh snorts while zipping it up. "What?" She asks, whipping around to face him.

Farleigh places his hands on her shoulders gently. "It's nothing, you just look like your mom, ya know? When we would go to those fancy cocktail parties with our parents?"

He turns her around by the shoulders to look in the mirror again, and shockingly, she finds that he's right. The straps, the thigh slit, and the bold red lip all scream Vienna Gavin's Daughter.

She also finds that she and Farleigh look good together. He's standing behind her in the mirror and for a moment she sees what she imagines other people could see in them. An intimidating, beautiful couple that could dismiss someone they disliked in an instant.

"We look like Mr. and Mrs. Smith from that Brad Pitt movie." Farleigh stage-whispers in her ear.

"We could be beautiful spies if you were a little stronger." Ariadne smiles at Farleigh through the mirror.

"I exercise!" Farleigh explains, pouting his beautiful lips at her. "I like to go for runs."

"You like to run your mouth, that's for sure," Ariadne mutters.

She turns and looks him over. Something feels off to her. "Go grab a necktie, I don't like the bowtie look, I feel like you belong in the House of Lords."

Dinner is still her least favourite part of staying at Saltburn. It is the most monotonous part of their day, sitting together and pretending like this is who they are.

Oliver stares at Felix like he hung the damn moon, and after a point, it stops being funny and becomes concerning. When dinner ends and they're all headed back to their rooms, Ariadne grabs Felix's sleeve. "Fi, can I talk to you for a second?"

Felix gives her a strange look but falls to the side with her. "What's up, pet?"

"Oliver." She says simply, waiting to see how his face changes.

Felix rubs his temple. "God, not you too."

Ariadne grabs his arm nervously, peeking over her shoulder to make sure Oliver is gone. "I just don't get the best energy off him, Fi."

Felix shakes his head. "Then what energy do you get from him, pet?"

Ariadne has a few choice words for the pit in her gut she's ascribed to Oliver Quick, least of all being that every word from his mouth sounds like a lie, but she has no evidence to the contrary. Weasel-y. Gold-digging. Evil. "Dangerous," she concludes, taking a deep breath.

"He's not dangerous, and even on the off-chance he is, I can handle it," Felix smiles quickly, but she can sense the unease just below it. Felix isn't stupid, and he isn't oblivious, but he dismisses things that don't fit his narrative, and Ariadne genuinely believes some part of him can feel that Oliver doesn't quite line up.

Ariadne sighs, holding his hands. "Felix, one day I'm not going to be here to protect you all the time, you know that, right?"

"C'mon, Ari, what're you on about? The Cattons are immortal," Felix jokes before pausing to turn stern. "Can't you just be nice, Ari? He's trying his best."

Felix at his most stern is about as intimidating to her as a puppy.

"Nice people get murdered." Ariadne deadpans. "One of us has to have our guard up. Besides, Farleigh said-"

Felix cuts her off, the defensive little bitch. "Since when are we putting so much stock into my cousin? I thought you hated each other."

Now that did hurt. She and Farleigh hadn't been kind to each other for the past seven years, but she never thought the Cattons would forget that they had originally been two-of-a-kind, and she definitely never thought they would think she hated him.

"Maybe we don't get along all the time anymore, but at least I know Farleigh. And the guy is a lot of things, shit-stirring asshole included, but he's not a liar. If you won't listen to me, at least listen to him." Ariadne gives him one more pleading look before turning to head back to her room.

#farleigh start smut #farleigh saltburn #farleigh start x black!oc #farleigh start x oc #farleigh start x original female character #saltburn smut

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zadr-day · 11 months ago

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Why ZaDr?

Think of every worthwhile rival ship that has ever existed; dip it in a poison coating of cynical worldbuilding, sprinkle it with a topping of shunned existence, and let the devil kiss it with a waxy pair of slimy, scifi alien lips. Only then, will you have yourself a sample of what ZaDr has to offer. These characters are compelling in themselves; one being a bizarre and paranormal obsessed clone of Earth's greatest scientific mind, the other a malfunctioning spaztic robot ant from beyond the stars. Each of them ostracized, for one reason or another, largely by virtue of their own passionate past mistakes.Those mistakes, failed efforts to be seen as worthwhile, to be praised, to be loved. But then you set them against each other, as enemies. As mirrored foils. Neither of them in the right, gray morality reigns supreme as they are purely obsessed with their own selfish reasons for self aggrandizement. Anything “good” that might happen as a result of their actions is always cast in the light of unintended circumstance. The true fight is with reality itself, while the sharp end of that crushing conflict is pointed towards the only one who could possibly understand what they’re going through. In the world of Invader Zim, every mentor, leader, parental figure, teacher, adult, child and Invader, feels more real by virtue of misanthropic absurdity. Their inability to provide the support and guidance for the main characters to function in a healthy way, is so very like the absence of nurturing many people feel in their youth. To anyone who has experienced life at its worst growing up, these caricatures of the real world provide a powerful sense of being seen. There is something radical about a story that isn’t written with any other moral than “ this living in society shit sucks”. That speaks to people, and continues to speak to me. ZaDr has always smacked of tragedy, in that you know things will end badly for everyone involved, but it’s still impossible to look away as everything is set ablaze. Two headstrong protagonists, locked in a battle of opposing wills and addictive delusion. It makes the sweetness sweeter, it makes the pains of grand fantasy ache deeper, knowing that these two characters are ultimately fighting losing battles for pitiful reasons.The denial of personal failure, the stubbornness to find purpose. In all of reality, all they truly have is each other. To see that dynamic and ship them is to say that love is possible even in the most dire of circumstances. Time and time again I find myself returning to ZaDr. I think something about the dynamic speaks to the part of us that knows things are wrong and that the fight against it is worthwhile. And that struggle, while futile, can still hold a tremendous amount of personal importance. It speaks to failing, and having the strength to get back up to try again. No matter the odds. For a pairing hated by its own creator, the fixation that Zim and Dib have on each other is an undeniable magnetism seen by the fandom since the launch of the cartoon, all the way back in 2001. This ship has staying power, and after over two decades has failed to fall into total obscurity. Those touched by its effects have gone on to create resonant, deeply meaningful works. This blog, and the posts that I make on the topic, are my way of giving back to the ZaDr community. By displaying the stories of triumph and tragedy put forward by the IZ community, I hope to welcome new fans and give back to long standing fans by providing a living archive and blog space. I look forward to sharing the wonderful talents of so many artists with you all. Happy first ZaDr day of many

#zadr #invader zim #zim #dib #iz #zadr-day official

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therhythmafterthesummer · 2 years ago

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Heat (M) ~Changbin

Pairing: Werewolf!Changbin x Werewolf!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | Established Relationship Warnings: time jumps, graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut) Word Count: ~6k | AO3 Summary: With you, Changbin was able to explore areas of himself he’d never even imagined existed. With you, Changbin found himself feeling at home more than ever, which was why he wanted nothing more than to experience your heat with you, too. [This story is an instalment of my WereRoomies series, a sort of part 2 to Finding Comfort in Autumn].

Author’s Note: this piece had been sitting in my WIPs for way too long ! i missed Changbin and his girl… since i finally got some inspo to continue this one, i rode the wave and here we are ! a bit of a pwp but i just couldn’t hold back…

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Changbin’s WereRoomies Instalments: Finding Comfort in Autumn · Heat · The Love I Always Dreamt Of.

Smut Warnings: Fingering [M.Rec gasp], Oral [M.Rec], unprotected penetration [piv], snowballing, marking, breeding kink, werewolf cock, copious amount of fluids, knotting

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Changbin was worried.

He had been for a while, but he didn’t want to express it too much. Not because you would judge him, or disregard him in any way, but because he knew that vocalising it time and time again would probably make it worse. So he settled on being a good partner and giving you an ear to complain to on the matter when you needed it.

It had been over a year since you ran away from your pack, over a year since you moved in with him, a handful of months since you finally shared your affections, and the whole time, you’d not gone into heat. Not even once. Changbin had gone on his rut right before you two got together, he had left your shared home a few days prior to the fact to stay in one of the vacant flats at their den to not make you uncomfortable in any way.

Going into his rut when he lived with an omega was dangerous, especially when that omega was you. By that point he had already developed feelings for you, so he made it a point to leave as soon as he saw the first signs of his rut approaching, meaning his rut-enhanced pheromones had no time to affect you and send you into heat. At the time that was for the best, all things considered, but now that you’d been together for a while it had become quite the topic.

It wasn’t that Changbin needed you to go into heat by any means. There was no real push for breeding in any way, but he worried about your health, about your well-being. Not going into heat could potentially mean there were underlying issues with your health and that was something he hoped you didn’t have to go through.

So, you had seeked medical advice with a specialist just for your kind–funny thing, how werewolves lived so intertwined in human spaces and they didn’t even notice. Not even the other doctors at the clinic knew one of their seemingly normal doctors was treating her own kind, along with humans. Changbin couldn’t go with you to the appointment, and it wasn’t because he hadn’t tried, but work had been hell that week and he had to work extra hours. ‘Don’t worry about it, Binnie, seriously. I’ll be just fine. Will call you as soon as I’m done. Besides, our dearest Pack Mum has offered her company, so I won't be alone’, you’d told him at the time, and it was just as he had left the server room that evening that you finally called him.

“Okay, good news and bad news… Which one do you wanna hear first?” You said it so unfazed, so level, Changbin truly wasn’t sure what to expect.

“Bad news first, pup. Always the bad news first”, Changbin felt his hands shake a bit as he fumbled with his ID card to leave the area.

“Okay”, you took a deep breath, trying to ease nerves of your own, Changbin supposed. “She said it’s probably due to stress. A combination of leaving my former pack, joining a new one, my general day-to-day stress at work…”

Changbin found the exit to the roof, stepping out to try and get more privacy and enjoy the fresh evening air. “That doesn’t sound… That bad?”

“Hm. The bad part is that there’s no way to medically trigger it”, Changbin heard your tired sigh on the other side of the line, just as he leaned on the railing to look at the tiny flashes of light moving through the roads below. “My heats have been so… Stunted for so long she said it’d take a while for my body to push a normal cycle again”.

You had explained to Changbin that for the past handful of years you hadn’t gone into heat on your own, they would mostly get triggered by your ex’s rut, and even then they wouldn’t always occur. With the new information from the specialist, Changbin figured your entire situation in your former pack had made it so your body was in a constant state of distress, meaning your cycle really had been thrown off for years.

“So it’s all about waiting?” Changbin pushed a pebble with his foot, hearing your hum of confirmation.

“Yes. Physically everything’s alright, and my birth control shouldn’t be affecting the cycle anyway, so it’s just a matter of patience”.

“Something you don’t have much of, unfortunately”, Changbin teased you a bit to try and ease the mood, chuckling at your mock offended ‘hey!’ on the other side of the line. “And the good news?”

“The good news is that the results of the tests came in! I mean, not like we didn’t know already, but now we know for sure. Your precious little omega is one hundred percent clean. So I hope you’re ready for us to fuck into next week, baby!”

Changbin couldn’t help but let out an incredulous laugh, feeling his cheeks heat up a bit at your forwardness as if he hadn’t already fucked you countless of times–to his credit, you hadn’t done it raw this entire time, and just the mere thought had him vibrating with excitement. “And to the week after, too. Damn…”

When Changbin came back home at almost midnight, exhausted out of his mind after dealing with the goddamn priority one outage in the office, you had engulfed him in a tight hug, proceeding to smother his face in kisses, making him giggle.

‘Poor Binnie has been working all day long. Let me take care of you, baby, hm? Got a surprise for you’, and Changbin almost wept when you guided him to the bathroom, dimly lit by numerous candles that you had carefully placed on every available surface and an already prepared warm bath.

When Changbin lowered himself into the tub he quite literally let out a sigh of relief at the feeling of warm water easing his muscles, making you chuckle just as you went in as well, leaning on the other end of the tub, looking fondly at him.

“Good, Binnie?”

“So good. Feel like I might cry”, Changbin chuckled, closing his eyes and sinking further into the water.

There was movement, and the water around him sloshed slightly as you moved closer to him. By the time he opened his eyes you were already kneeling between his legs, smiling at him. You reached for him, setting your hands on his shoulders and softly kneading his flesh, eliciting a content hum from him with your tender touch.

Sometimes, Changbin couldn’t even believe his luck. Starting a relationship with you had completely liberated this side of himself that he had tucked away deeply within his heart for years, the side of him that rejoiced in the way you took care of him.

He had been a bit worried at first, wondering if you, like he himself had done many times in the past with former partners, were simply trying to mould yourself to him, to his needs. ‘I really do enjoy taking care of you, Binnie. Making you feel good makes me feel good’, and when you looked at him like this, there were no doubts in his mind that you were telling him the truth.

“What time are you working tomorrow?” You asked him as you continued to knead his shoulders.

“Not working tomorrow. That was my condition for the out of hours thingy today. Wanted to rest. Plus you won’t be working tomorrow either, right?” Changbin was turning into putty in your hands, just letting himself enjoy your touch as he lazily reached for your hips, softly digging his thumbs on your skin.

“Mm, not working tomorrow either”, moving your hands from his shoulders, you cupped his cheeks, pulling him to you for a tender kiss. “Wanted to be fresh for our run in a couple of days”.

“Smart…” His hands sneaked to the small of your back, drawing circles there with his fingertips as he pressed a kiss to your lips. “You think the full moon might…”

You sighed, pulling away from his lips to look him in the eyes, just as you returned your hands to his shoulders. You clearly knew exactly what he was asking, on whether you thought the full moon would trigger your heat or not. “Dunno… It hasn’t the past handful of months… But one can hope, right?”

“Mm…”

“Why?” Leaning closer, you brushed your nose against his briefly, only to bring your lips to hover over his. “Wanna breed me that badly, Binnie?”

A shiver ran up and down Changbin’s spine. He couldn’t help it, it was an instinctual thing. Sliding his hands further down, he groped your buttcheeks, just as he pressed a brief kiss on your lips. “What if I do? What if I wanna stuff my precious omega full of my pups?”

“Would you?” You mumbled against his lips, and Changbin could practically feel you vibrating in his hold. “Pump me full of your pups? Maybe even… Mark me?”

Changbin had to use every ounce of willpower to not let his canines enlarge at the suggestion, suddenly feeling lightheaded, salivating, at the mere thought of claiming you, of marking you as his. “Want me to mark you, pup? Make you mine?”

“Hm…” You lightly brushed your nose against his, threading your fingers through Changbin’s hair and tugging his head back. “But only if you become mine, too”.

“Already am”, was all Changbin murmured before he connected his lips to yours in a heated kiss.

“Shh, Binnie… You’ll wake up the whole house…”

Changbin bit his lip to muffle himself. It was hard to stay quiet when you had two fingers up his ass and your fist around his cock, but he was certainly not about to complain.

“You’re leaking, baby”, you chuckled, keeping up those slow strokes on his length and the even slower thrust of your fingers. “So much…”

Changbin swallowed, just as the heat on his cheeks spread all over his chest, too. “All for you, pup…”

Last night’s run certainly affected you, just like it had affected Changbin. It didn’t particularly trigger your heat like he was expecting, but the way you jumped him as soon as you were inside your shared room almost knocked the breath out of his lungs. Not only did you fuck like bunnies–or should he say, like wolves…–last night, but you’d woken up in the same needy, horny mood this morning.

It was really early, but the second Changbin woke up and got the first whiff of your scent, he wasted no time in waking you up. As soon as you opened your eyes you took a hold of his length and guided him to your entrance, letting him stuff you full and fuck into you until you were trembling with your release, and when you recovered, you simply turned around and pushed on his shoulder for him to lay down.

Which got him right here, with his legs spread open for you, all lubed up and stretched open by your fingers.

The first time you told Changbin you wanted to finger him he was a bit apprehensive, mostly out of his own prejudice. After all, males–and especially alpha males–were taught that the act was something to look down on, but considering he was going through his own journey of self-discovery, he trusted you enough to be that vulnerable, and the second he finally gave you the go ahead and tried it, he realised two things:

One, that he wasn’t any less of a man–of an alpha–for taking a finger up the ass. He hadn’t felt any less of anything since he started to be more open with himself, so this discovery didn’t surprise him.

And two, and the most shocking of all, was that it felt so fucking good, which certainly helped cement discovery number one.

The feeling was almost indescribable, having his cock tugged and sucked and played with was amazing on its own, but the added stimulation just made him feel like his entire body was alight. Every time your fingers went in and out, tiny shots of pleasure ran up and down his spine, and every time you hit that sweet spot within him, he’d literally shiver and leak fluids like crazy.

As an alpha, Changbin already produced almost triple the amount of a regular human male, and double of a werewolf of any other designation, but whenever you stimulated him like this, the amount increased considerably, and the fact that you seemed to love it made it even more arousing than it already was.

“Puppy…” Changbin was panting, whining, writhing a bit, and he felt so, so close. It was the second time you got him this close, and he needed to come or he would seriously start crying under your touch.

“What is it, baby?” Your voice was deceivingly sweet, speaking to him just as you settled to massage his prostate, making him whine.

“Wanna… Wanna come…” Changbin held your gaze, getting lost in your lust-filled irises. Had you done this last night, with his senses enhanced by the full moon and looking at your glowing eyes, he would’ve blown right then and there, he was sure.

You squeezed the base of his length, and Changbin couldn’t help but throw his head back as you kept massaging him. “Already?”

Changbin let out a strained laugh, gripping the bed sheets tightly. “It’s been–Fuck… Over twenty minutes of this, pup… Wanna–”

He all but choked on his words as you resumed your movements, now with the addition of your warm, wet mouth around his tip. Bringing a fist to his mouth, Changbin bit down to stop the sounds that were desperately trying to come out of his mouth, carefully rolling his hips to meet the thrusts of your fingers, but not enough to shove his cock too much down your throat.

Changbin loved to see you like this, he would admit. Settled between his legs, struggling to take his cock into your mouth. He was big, just like any other alpha would be, but that never stopped you from wrapping your lips around his length and making him whine and whimper for you.

You bobbed your head, sucking harshly on his tip, jerking the rest of his length that you couldn’t fit in your mouth just as your fingers kept massaging him, working him up closer to his release by the second, and Changbin felt his mind cloud, registering only your touch, the pressure building inside of him, and the feeling of his teeth sinking on his index finger.

Finally, that pressure inside of him bursted, all that tension left his body as he came with your lips still around him, pathetically whining and moaning as low as he could–he had embraced this part of himself, but Changbin didn’t particularly feel like having his entire family hear him have a mind-blowing orgasm, he was barely conscious enough to keep that in check.

His legs were shaking, you kept sucking him and massaging him, and it was just too much. So he called for you, the most strained ‘puppy, enough…’ leaving his lips for you to finally pull your fingers out of his ass and your mouth off of him with a lewd pop.

Crawling up his body, you settled on his lap, cupping his cheeks and pulling him to you for a heated kiss, and Changbin couldn’t help but moan as you shoved your tongue inside his mouth, spreading his cum over his tongue. He swallowed it all, just like he always did, holding you tightly, naked chest against naked chest, kissing you with fervour.

Changbin felt tingly all over, not only from finally blowing his load, but also just by having you close, by being completely engulfed in your scent. These days he just felt completely flooded by it, and he absolutely loved every second of it.

“Good boy…” You mumbled against his lips, petting his hair and making him huff out an incredulous chuckle.

“Unbelievable…” With his arms securely around your waist, Changbin rolled, bringing you with him and pinning you to the mattress, smothering your face with kisses. “You’re seriously unbelievable”.

You chuckled, wrapping your limbs around him and pressing a kiss on his lips. “You love me either way”.

“I love you because of it”, Changbin gave you a brief kiss, pulling away from you entirely right after. “C’mon, let’s get ready for the day, I really want to clean my ass and I’m sure everyone will be awake soon…”

By the time Changbin and you had taken a quick shower and made your way downstairs, there were already some pack members in the kitchen. Chris, his girlfriend, and Jeongin were sitting at the table, while Hyunjin, Felix, and Jisung got busy preparing breakfast.

You offered Felix your help, while Changbin simply made his way to the table and sat down, engaging in conversation with the rest. This was honestly one of Changbin’s favourite moments of their monthly trips, just being able to sit together and chat, everyone still in their pyjamas, hairs tousled, and still sleepy. It made him feel completely at home, at ease, and he always felt grateful that this was his family now.

It wasn’t like his previous pack wasn’t family, it just wasn’t the same. Changbin loved his parents–his mother particularly was very important to him, he’d go visit her once every two weeks at least–but the pack Chris and Changbin built together had become such a safe space for him he truly couldn’t imagine himself living anywhere else, with anyone else. Even more so now that he had you in his life.

“…It sucks ‘cause I’ll have to take the night shift once we’re back in the city”, Jisung was whining about his job, just like he often did. He always claimed he loved it, but loving his job wouldn’t stop him from complaining either way.

“Didn’t you say you loved night shifts, baby?” Chris’ girlfriend chuckled from where she was sitting on Chris’ lap, with one of his arms securely around her waist as he fed her pieces of freshly cut apples.

“I kinda do, but lately they’ve been getting weird… We’re getting a lot of weirdos in the emergency room and it’s annoying…”

“You do work at a hospital that tends mostly to supernatural creatures, what were you expecting exactly?” Hyunjin said as he continued to whisk eggs in a bowl. “Find a normal, human hospital if you don’t wanna deal with oddities, darling”.

“But then what’s the point?” Jisung sighed dramatically, handing Felix his freshly chopped veggies.

“Morning”, Minho mumbled as he walked through the door, with an arm draped over his best friend who was coming to one of their monthly trips for the first time–his kitten, as he’d often call her, both to her face and when she wasn’t there. ‘Ahh, my kitten’s coming tomorrow…’, ‘Ahh, my kitten’s not feeling well…’, ‘Ahh, was just talking to my kitten…’ Minho would always talk about her, and Changbin found it endearing and annoying in equal parts.

Endearing, because it was cute to see Minho being absolutely whipped, but annoying because he’d never act on it. They’d been friends since childhood, and it was more than clear that both of them had feelings for each other, but they were both oblivious to the other’s more than obvious crush. It was even more painful than watching Chris and his girlfriend interact when they were just roommates, considering they had even more history.

“Morn–” Jisung’s sentence cut short with a gasp as he looked at his two childhood friends. “You two fucked?”

Jisung asked in his version of a whisper, which was, essentially, audible to everyone in the room, including the humans–if the snort that Chris’ girlfriend let out was anything to go by.

Minho facepalmed, groaning. “You sure are the epitome of discretion, Jisung…”

“I’m sorry! You caught me off guard, okay?!” Jisung’s ears were slightly red, but Minho’s… Friend? Chuckled regardless.

“How could you even tell?” She made her way to the table, sitting next to Chris and his girlfriend, who offered her a slice of apple, too.

“Scent”, you touched your nose, grinning at her, and her face flushed as she let out a barely audible ‘oh…’

“Alright, everyone”, Chris’ girlfriend interrupted the conversation, with her hand outstretched, palm up. “Pay up. I’ll collect the payout from the others later and distribute it”.

Minho’s jaw went slack, watching completely incredulous as some of his packmates deposited tenners on their Pack Mum’s hand. “You bet on us getting together?!”

“Just like you bet on us fucking last night”, Chris motioned to him and his girlfriend with a teasing smirk on his face. “We’re fucking even”.

Minho just scoffed, but he was smiling regardless, and as he started to uselessly banter with Chris, as the rest started to add their playful remarks and teasing jokes, Changbin couldn’t help but feel incredibly happy once again that this was the family he had chosen to have.

Going back to work after a couple of nights in the woods was always more refreshing than Changbin could ever expect. He loved being able to run freely in nature, especially when he did it with his pack, but coming back to his mundane office job always reminded him that he wasn’t just an animal, that he was very much part human, too, and it helped him connect with that side of him.

You had decided to take your annual leave right after the trip, since you had a bunch of errands to run and it’d be easier to do them if you didn’t have to deal with office shenanigans. So, Changbin had been coming to work on his own these past couple of days, which was fine, you two often had different schedules so it wasn’t particularly uncommon for that to happen, but still he enjoyed seeing your pretty face around the office every once in a while when he was able to leave his desk, which he couldn’t do now that you weren’t here.

The network was stable today, he’d checked all the switches early in the morning, everything was in order, so today was one of those rare days in which he was able to fulfil all his tasks in a few hours. There wasn’t much to do, just stay put in case something happened and his expertise was needed, so he settled to pretend to be busy by checking the pack’s group chat through the messaging app’s web browser.

> Seungminnie: guys > found a gnome trying to sneak into the den

> Mr Alpha: what u do with it > ???????

> Minho: why tf would a gnome try to go into the den?

> Mrs Mother: pls tell me you didnt kill it > or eat it

> Innie: dw mum > we just chased it away

> Hyunjinnie: they say it’s bad luck > if a gnome visits a werewolf den

> Jisung: literally who said that > no one said that > u just trynna spook us

> Hyunjinnie: @Jisung look it up sweetcheeks

Changbin just chuckled, puzzled at the entire exchange, and it was just as he was going to add to the conversation that he felt his mobile phone buzz in his pocket. He couldn’t stop the smile that settled on his face as he saw the ‘💕Gingerbread💕’ text on the screen.

“‘Sup, pup?”

There was silence for a moment, until finally, Changbin heard you swallow, thickly enough for him to hear it over the phone. “Binnie…”

Changbin went stiff, suddenly frozen in place. The way you said his nickname had the fine hairs on his nape standing on end, and the sound sent a shiver up and down his spine. “Babe–”

“Need you”, you whined, and at that exact moment Changbin understood what was happening, and he simultaneously felt as if a cold bucket of water had come down on him, and as if he was being lit on fire. “Please, Bin, it hurts so bad… Need you…”

Changbin stood up from his desk, gathering his belongings and hastily shoving them in his bag. “I’ll be there soon, pup. Don’t worry. Are you at home?”

“Mhm…” Your voice was a bit weak, but knowing you were safe at home was enough for him.

“I’m on my way”.

While the call disconnected Changbin was making his way out the door, shooting his boss a quick ‘there’s an emergency at home, I have to leave now’. His boss didn’t object, probably because Changbin had inadvertently used his alpha voice, if anyone so much as tried to stop him right now that he was trying to get to you he’d surely rip their head clean off, so it was for the best.

The drive to the den was a blur, all Changbin could think about was you and how you’d be managing, about how he wasn’t there to take care of you. As an alpha, knowing his omega was in heat and he wasn’t there for you at this exact moment brought a mix of distress and anger that was difficult to handle while driving, but he was able to make it home without much trouble, thankfully.

As soon as Changbin stepped through the door he was hit by your overwhelming scent, your delicious nutmeg and ginger scent that drove him absolutely insane, now heightened and somehow more concentrated, making him stumble slightly and brace himself on the hall’s wall.

He got his shoes off out of habit, an action completely mechanical as his hands started to tremble, and his mind started to cloud more and more with each intake of breath. Fertile, breed, claim… Were words that repeated in his mind in an endless loop as he stumbled towards the bedroom.

Sure enough, as soon as he opened the door, his mouth watered, his cock that had steadily been growing hard pumped to its fullest just as the sight. You, laying on your shared bed, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts, surrounded by a mix of yours and his clothes, sweaty, panting, whining… And the second you registered his presence you squirmed, with the most delicious mewl leaving your lips.

“Changbin… Changbinnie, please, baby…”

The sound of your voice, so desperate for him, your scent flooding his senses completely, the sight of you in your pretty nest on your shared bed was enough to send Changbin into a frenzied state. He could feel his humanity quickly slipping between his fingers as his wolf instincts started to take over. Please, taste, mount…

His skin felt ten times hotter than it did before he stepped into his flat, so he removed his shirt, swiftly making his way to the bed, climbing on top of you to press kisses all over your face.

As soon as his lips were on you, you whined, so, so desperate, needy… Your hands reached for his chest, your touch seething as you felt him up. “Shh, pup… I’m here”, Changbin’s lips descended from your face to your neck, nibbling and licking right on your pulsepoint. The salty taste of your skin, coupled with the smell of your scent had his nerve-endings on fire, and his hands moved below your shirt–his shirt–to palm your hips as he pressed his nose to your neck and inhaled deeply.

“You smell so delicious, puppy… So, so good, fuck, wanna–” Changbin choked on his words as he felt your hand on his crotch, pressing firmly against his erection as you started to kiss and lick his cheeks.

“Need you”, your breathy tone had his head spinning, had his cock twitching in his underwear, just as fluid started to leak from his tip.

You fumbled with his belt, and Changbin grabbed a handful of your tit to knead and squeeze while licking the expanse of your neck. He didn’t know where to start, there were so many things roaming chaotically in his brain–licking your cunt clean, stuffing his fingers in you until you were crying for him, sucking on your tits, fucking you, mounting you… There were so many options, and his mind was so hazy and cloudy he just couldn’t choose one.

You, however, clearly knew exactly what you wanted right now, since your fingers expertly unbuttoned his now soaked trousers and shoved them and his underwear down just enough for his cock to spring free, holding him in your hand and pumping him, eliciting an almost desperate growl from his lips.

“Need my alpha’s cock, please…” Before Changbin could register the movement, you had locked your legs around him and pushed with your whole bodyweight, effectively rolling you both for him to lay on his back and for you to straddle his hips.

“Pup–” Changbin’s call for you died on his tongue, replaced with a groan as your lips finally connected to his. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth, making you whine as your hips started to roll, grinding yourself on his length.

You were literally dripping, your fluids mixing with his, covering his lower abdomen and your inner thighs with them. Enjoy, satisfy, submit… His hands found purchase on your buttcheeks, gripping you tightly and moving you harder against his cock as his hips bucked up trying to get as much friction as possible.

There was that damn shirt, though… The fabric prevented him from feeling your heated skin against his and he was hating it, he wanted to feel your breasts against his chest, for you to feel the rumble resonating from deep within him as you pressed yourself to him, to feel your rumble against his chest…

“Need to feel you…” was all he mumbled against your lips as he tugged on the shirt, and you mewled, bringing your hands to his chest to push yourself up.

You tugged the shirt off of your body, shuffling down to tug Changbin’s trousers and underwear fully off of him, leaving you both completely bare. Once you climbed up his body again, hovering just above his length, you braced yourself on his abdomen. “Please, please, Changbinnie, can I–”

“Yes!” Changbin interrupted you, knowing exactly what you wanted from him, him wanting exactly the same thing. His hand reached for the base of his cock, angling it to rub the tip against your folds, and you shuddered with the touch.

Before he could even register it, you took a hold of his wrist and sank down on him just as you moved his hand away from his length and brought it to one of your breasts. As soon as your walls wrapped snugly around his cock a shared moan of relief escaped you both. His hand squeezed your breast almost on instinct, and Changbin felt heat spreading all over his face and neck just at the feel of you, warm, wet, tight, his…

Changbin had spent many ruts with people in the past, he had helped friends through their heats as well, but never had he had his rut triggered by someone’s heat, never had he felt this way, this needy and desperate. More than wanting to do anything to you, he vaguely realised he wanted you to do anything you wanted to him, he wanted to give you anything and everything you asked him for, and the thought of you voicing your needs and taking him however you pleased had him burning up from the inside out.

You leaned in to kiss him, your hips moving up and down his cock with ease, the mix of your slick and his aiding every single one of your movements. Moving a hand to one of your buttocks, Changbin squeezed tightly as the other tangled in your hair, tugging you off of his mouth for him to press kisses on your neck, right where your scent concentrated the most, thrusting up into you as hard as his hips would let him. “Such a good little omega, aren’t you? With your pretty little nest ready for your alpha to breed you, hm?”

You couldn’t help but moan, nodding frantically as much as you could with his hand still holding onto your hair. “Do you–Do you like it, Binnie?” The neediness in your voice had his cock twitching inside of you as he continued to drill into you, the sound of your wet skin meeting almost drowning your meek words, had you not whispered them against his neck as you sucked marks on his skin he could’ve easily missed them. “Prepared it… Just for you… For us…”

Warmth spread quickly within Changbin, his hips stuttering the slightest bit once your words registered in his hazy brain, but he recovered quickly, holding you tighter in his arms, his grip on your buttock probably leaving bruises already. “I love it. Love my perfect omega’s little nest”, you clenched hard around his cock, and he couldn’t help but groan at the feeling. “Fuck, pup… Want to do so many things to you… For you…”

“Later… Later, baby. Now, I–” A whine fell from your lips, and your thighs twitched as his cock continued to hit that sweet spot inside your walls. Bracing yourself on his chest you sat straighter, and Changbin’s hold on your hair relented as soon as you started moving. His hands frantically roamed your body, not knowing where to settle, your hips, your ass, your tits, your thighs… There were so many places for Changbin to hold onto he just couldn’t settle for one.

As you started to bounce up and down his length Changbin started to feel his knot expanding within your walls, a loud, desperate moan falling from your lips as you clearly started to feel it as well. “Fuck… So big, so, so big…” Your pace picked up, Changbin’s hips chasing your hips to enhance your pleasure and his as you continued to move. “Want you to stuff me full, Binnie… Want your pups, alpha, my alpha…”

Omega, mate, tie… Changbin couldn’t help but moan, the thought of filling you up, breeding you, stuffing you full of his seed had him close, so close to the edge he started to lose a bit of his self control, and his hips pistoned up as hard as he could against you, just as his deepest desires flew past his lips before he could even stop himself.

“Mark me, puppy…” His eyes were fixed on yours, taking in the blissed out expression on your face, your beautiful features contorting in pleasure, whether it was for his words or his movements he didn’t know, nor could he think too clearly about it to care. “Please, mark me… Want everyone to know I’m yours and yours only. Mark me…”

With a whine, your canines enlarged upon his request–not much, you were an omega after all, but that didn’t stop you from dipping, and your mouth found the junction of his shoulder and his neck for your teeth to sink into his flesh, sending sparks of hot, unadulterated pleasure throughout his entire system.

The feeling of your teeth breaking his skin, along with your merciless hips bouncing on top of him was enough to send him over the edge, lodging his knot deep within your walls for him to shoot his seed into you with a long, drawn out growl just as your walls started to spasm around him, just as your whole body shook in his hold as you came undone with him.

Changbin felt lightheaded as his cum spurted almost endlessly from his tip, filling you up. You weakly licked his neck, right where you bit him, trying to soothe the wound. “My alpha, my Binnie, mine, all mine…” You whispered against his skin, bringing heat to his face, making him blush.

Turning his head slightly, Changbin’s lips found yours. One of his hands came to rest on the back of your head to deepen the kiss, and his tongue pushed lazily against yours, savouring you. “My sweet, precious omega, mine, all mine…” He mumbled against your lips, hearing your satisfied hum when he finally stopped coming, when he finally stuffed you full of everything he had.

Hiding in the crook of his neck again, you snuggled impossibly closer to him, letting out a content sigh as you both just laid there catching your breaths for a long while.

Changbin’s skin felt tingly, especially where you bit him–holy shit you marked him. As he regained clarity, he finally realised he begged you to mark him, and you did. You marked him and the mere feeling of it made him blow his load immediately, and his mind was racing.

Suddenly, you tensed, moving away from his neck to look him in the eyes. “Holy shit, Changbin…” Your fingers traced the mark on his neck, making a shiver run down his spine at the contact.

“You marked me”, Changbin confirmed, feeling his heart swell in his chest as he said it, his voice was barely a whisper, and his palms moved from where they had been laying on your back to softly caress your shoulders. “How does it look?”

“Like… Like a mating bite…” You licked your lips, your eyes jumping back and forth from his face to the mark. “Didn’t even know omegas could mark others… Much less an alpha”.

“You’re no ordinary omega, pup”, one of Changbin’s hands pushed away the hair that was sticking to your forehead. “Just like I’m no ordinary alpha, thought we had established that already”, with a hand on the back of your neck, he pulled you down gently, to press a soft, tender kiss to the apple of your cheek.

“Do you–” You shuffled, or at least tried to, but the tug of Changbin’s knot in your core made you wince and whine as soon as you tried to move.

Changbin’s hands found your hips, keeping you firmly in place. “Don’t move, baby. This is quite possibly one of the worst positions we could’ve tied in”, Changbin chuckled softly, pressing kisses on your cheeks to try to soothe you.

“Sorry…” A sheepish smile made its way onto your face, a blush settling on your cheeks. “Couldn’t help it…”

“I know, pup”, stretching his neck a bit, Changbin’s lips found yours, placing a peck on your lips. Wrapping his arms around your waist he held you to his chest and inhaled deeply. “You smell so good, puppy… So good…”

“You do, too, baby…” You rubbed your forehead on Changbin’s shoulder, letting out a content sigh. “Did I… Did my heat trigger your rut?”

Changbin just hummed, softly caressing your hair and your back. “The second I stepped through the door and I got a whiff of your scent I lost my mind. My rut wasn’t due yet”.

You hummed, pressing soft kisses on his neck. “Guess you’ll have to call in sick…”

Changbin chuckled. Leave it to you to think about work even in a moment like this. “They’ll live. This is more important than that stupid office”.

Giggling softly, you smothered his face with kisses, bringing the widest smile to his lips just as you brushed Changbin’s nose with yours once you had finished your attack. “We’re gonna have so much fun, Binnie…”

Once his knot fully deflated, Changbin moved you off of his lap, and your eyes went wide as you looked at him, still hard and leaking. With a smirk on his face, he took a hold of your hips, a tiny squeak left your lips as he harshly turned you around and pulled your lower body up to rest your weight on your knees.

“My turn now. Gonna make a mess out of you, pup…”

Yes, Changbin enjoyed being taken care of. He enjoyed letting you take control, but on odd occasions, and especially now, with his mind still hazy and completely drunk on your scent and your pheromones, he enjoyed taking control, too. He was determined to take care of you.

Tagging: @raspbinniecreme @staaa96 @oiminho @dundullresident @honey-lemon-goose @straylightdream @carefully325 @lavenderxkies @starshine-moon @biribarabiribbaem @meowmeowhoon @100layersofdaddyissues @dearalice @alexis-reads-fics @xcookiemonsteer @knowleeknow @chanlovesme If you want to be removed from the list just PM me. If you want to be added fill in this form~

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Changbin’ WereRoomies Instalments: Finding Comfort in Autumn · Heat · The Love I Always Dreamt Of.

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