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#content: fanfic
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WIP: "The Disappeared" by @dcbbw
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A submission by @dcbbw! WIP of a story that explores Nadia's thoughts, emotions and heartbreak, set during Steve's disappearance after the "breakup" at Ceder Rest (PM1 Ch6). Can't wait to see the full piece! 💖💖💖
Tagging @sazanes and @lizzybeth1986 for NPAD 2023!
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An unshowered, scowling Nadia Park greeted the Door Dasher wearing an oversized pink tee shirt that read: “Bitch, I AM the secret ingredient”, a pair of baggy sweatpants, and a huge purple chenille robe. A Captain America cape was tied around her waist and competed with the robe when it came to dragging the floor. She snatched the bags from his hands, pressed a $20 bill into his palm, and slammed the door.
The delivery guy stared stupidly at the closed door before muttering, “Yeah, fuck you too!” as he turned on his heel, headed for the elevator.
Nadia swung her front door open, bags of food still hooked onto her curled fingers. “DON’T MAKE ME RAGE PANDA YOUR ASS!” she threatened in a half-snarl, half-yell.
Before entering the waiting elevator car, the gangly guy half turned so she could see him flip her the bird. Nadia bit her lip, exhaled angrily, and slammed her door shut again.
Freakin’ people!
She set the bags of greasy goodness onto her coffee table, careful to move her newly opened bottle of Boones Farm strawberry wine out of harm’s way before flopping onto the sofa, her dark hair splayed against pastel-colored cushions. Her eyes stared around the normally bright and cheerful domicile; now all the lights and lamps were off, and the venetian blinds were closed, curtains pulled tightly against them despite it being 2pm on a Tuesday.
The condo was in complete disarray: Two weeks’ worth of everything was everywhere. Dirty laundry sat in piles in the living room, the kitchen, the hallway leading to the bedroom. The kitchen sink was piled high with dirty dishes; she would put them in the dishwasher, but that was full as well. Carryout boxes, empty wine bottles, and crumpled bags that once held potato chips threatened to spill out of the kitchen trash can.
A few of her earlier paintings, which had decorated the dining room accent wall two weeks ago, sat haphazardly on the floor; a large corkboard she had titled The Steve Tennyson Timeline hung there now, filled with photos, charts, and the letter.
For all of her charisma, competence, and creative talents, Nadia Park was, without fail, a hot mess in three instances: when she was drunk, in love, or grieving. And right now, she was all three.
Because of Steve.
The one who swore he would never hurt her. Hell, he was the first and only man who had actually read The Care and Keeping of Nadia Park, making annotations and highlighting what he considered to be the important parts.
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shadowriel · 4 months
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New idea: instead of writing the fic, you come over to my house and I tell you the entire plot while I pace my tiny kitchen. There’s a cup of tea, warm in your hands. The words don’t stop and the affection never leaves your expression.
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konigsblog · 2 months
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WARNINGS: NON-CON/DUB-CON, STEPCEST, INTOXICATION, SOMNOPHILLIA. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.
to write about stepbrother's johnny, kyle and simon...
all of them being so perverted, yet so predictable. :(
you can't wear a short dress around simon, otherwise he'll bombard you with questions, asking where you think you're going whilst dressed like a hooker! believe him, he's just looking out for you... but, when you come home drunk, attempting to hide in your room, simon is already convincing and coercing you into his bedroom, where he'll demand you to suck him off and let him fuck your tight, little asshole. gripping your soft tits over your short dress, rolled up around your waist as he begins to thrust and grind deep into your swollen, puffy and glistening folds.
you can't wear shorts around johnny because it drives him crazy. even your other stepbrothers will tell you to cover up, because johnny's acting depraved; palming himself in front of everyone, and eyeing you up like a feast. if you do, he'll be humping you constantly, trying to get you to bend over so he can get a nice view of your ass... you may even wake up to johnny rubbing his hard boner over your clothed ass, all drowsy and conditioned, tip soaking your skimpy pajama shorts, thick and milky cum oozing from the head of his achingly hard cock, while he apologises profusely, telling you to go back to sleep, that he'll be quick...
you can't wear anything revealing around kyle, nothing whatsoever, he'll find a way to sexualise you somehow. when you're wearing a low cut top, one that reveals too much cleavage, he can't resist. he'll grope you and kiss your breasts, telling you it's alright for a stepbrother to touch you like this because it's done with protectiveness, making sure you're safe in his arms, the perverted bastard lying straight to your face and being so touchy and perverted.
wearing bikinis? it's like you're asking to be fucked like a whore... :( during a pool party, he'll corner you in the bathroom and have his way with you, fucking your sweet pussy while you tell him it's not alright for a stepbrother to be so depraved with his stepsister!
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ladywuvly · 3 months
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— ∘☽༓☾∘ ♱ overprotective!simonriley drabble
warnings|| MDNI; 18+ content, unhealthy behavior, k!dnapping, implied attempted sa, overprotective!simonriley, p!v
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not only does he not like you leaving the house by yourself, but he borderline wants you chained to the bed.
you plan a grocery trip? just give him a few hours to finish his work and he’ll go with you.
you text him that you have to run to the store? no bother he’ll get whatever you need on his way home.
you want a late night snack? "no way darling, just climb back in here under the covers with me…"
to tell the truth he’s just so protective of you. he just doesn’t want his pretty little girl to be in any unnecessary danger.
but he dreams of the day someone try’s to take you from him. he’d know exactly what to do. he did it for a living. shit, he got payed to do it.
he’d find you, probably gaged and bound, in the back of some dead guy’s van. his precious baby all teary-eyed and red faced.
god, and when he gets his hands on you. he’ll teach you exactly why you should never leave his sights…
“…isn’t that right, baby?” he slurred into your ear from behind.
he had your lower half pulled out of the van’s back door. bent over, hands still bound, spit soaked gag dragging against your hardened nipples with every one of his painful thrusts.
“c'mon use ya’ words…” but you can’t. the only thing escaping your parted lips is a breathless moan of his name.
“simon…”
“at’s right… fuck… say it again.”
“i’ll neve- ah… i’ll- oh fuck… simon…”
he pull you up by your hair, pressing you against his hot chest. slipping his hand around your hip to play casually with your clit.
“don’t ya' wanna cum, princess? or ‘ave ya’ not learned ya’ lesson yet?”
“i have! i have!” you’d cry, fresh tear cascading down your previously damp cheeks.
“please…please simon… i-i wanna cum…”
“y'know what to say darlin’.” his trusts were relentless. dragging against your cervix with each snap of his hips.
a sob was drawn from your throat before your lips babbled out the words…
“i’ll never leave you again!”
“good job, baby… good girl.” he slurs before dropping his head into your shoulder, his mouth taking hold of your neck as his thrust became even rougher…
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masterlist. socials. recs.
© ladywuvly please do not steal, copy, or translate any of my work onto other platforms!
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hoonieshoney · 9 days
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Synopsis: After Lee Heeseung got caught in bit of a legal scandal he is summoned to community service thanks to his father’s legal connections. Heeseung finds himself stuck for the next six weeks working at the local church, how lucky for him the pastors sweet daughter is there to keep him company.
Pairing: LeeHeeseung x afabNaive!Virgin!Reader
Warnings: “DARK CONTENT-ish”.Dub con, manipulation, religious themes, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), thigh riding, creampie, cum eating, masturbation (male and female), sexual use of a rosary, sexual scenes in a church, fingering, cursing, dirty talk, corruption kink, oral (male&female), hair pulling, slight spanking, slight mention of blood, slight choking, ??noncon??(I'm adding that tag because there is a moment of hesitation that could be viewed as noncon)
Word Count: 7.3k
Taglist: @deobitifull @iveivory
Author Note: Though this isn’t as dark as my normal content I’m still marking it as dark because it’s still manipulation and it has dark and religious themes to it (and I know people are sensitive to those topics), so to be safe and protect those individuals I’m just marking it as dark content. Not 100% proofread, if you see a mistake, no you didn’t❤️ I hope you enjoy it! ❤️I appreciate all comments/reblogs/likes ❤️ I love to hear your thoughts ❤️ Enjoy little ducklings!
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Lee Heeseung is well aware of what he is. He’s a liar, a manipulator, an unreliable friend, an average college student, but above everything, what he takes the most pride in, is that Heeseung is an amazing hookup. He knows he’s hot, he knows girls talk about how great he is in bed especially about how well endowed he is. 
He’s never had to fight for anything in his life, he’s always gotten what he wanted without hesitation, and yes, that includes women. 
He loves women, more notably he loves taken women. The rush of having someone’s girlfriend underneath him compares to nothing else, especially if they're hooking up with the boyfriend nearby. He can’t explain it, he loves the rush he gets knowing they picked him, they’re risking it all for him. 
And watching that same girl go up to her loser boyfriend and kiss him with the same mouth Heeseung just had his dick in has his chest swelling with pride.  
But you. Fuck. You were the ultimate prize, the forbidden fruit, the one. 
Six weeks of forced community service under the watchful eye of the most respected church pastor in town, your father. Heeseung was initially pissed knowing he’d be spending three days a week, including church service on Sundays, in a tiny stuffy room sorting through church donations. But then the most wonderful “miracle” happened, you. 
He doesn’t know how it happened, you’re not the type of girl he goes for. You didn’t even spare him a second glance when he walked in on his first day. But fuck, your face, your modest clothing, your big doe eyes, everything he wouldn’t spare a glance at on a normal day had him aching to touch you. The silver cross necklace resting on your collarbones, the Bible you always had nearby with sticky notes and bookmarks sticking out, the white and silver rosary always nearby and that fucking ring…oh my god he almost lost all self control when he heard about it that first week of work.  
“Are you engaged? You’re still in college, why would you want to settle down already?” He asks, tapping the silver band on your left ring finger.
You giggle and swat his hand away, “no silly. It’s a purity ring.”
He furrowed his eyebrows, “what’s that?”
“It’s a promise ring to God basically. Meaning I’ll remain pure until marriage.”
His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. No sex until marriage? That sounds horrible.
“So you’ve never…”
“Of course not!” You say, like you’re offended by the assumption. 
“Have you ever kissed anyone?” His interest now fully peaked. 
“Nope,” you answer, popping the ‘p’ sound.
“So in a way...you belong to God?” He questions licking his lips.
“Yeah..until I get married, I guess you could say that.” 
Fuck.
He barely made it outside to the church parking lot into his car with his hand wrapped around his cock jerking off to the mental image of your dainty hand wrapped around him instead, looking up at him with wide curious eyes like you usually do. The image of that little band on your finger had him spilling all over his hand in minutes, even managing to get some of his cum on the windshield.  
He hasn’t stopped thinking about it. He never had any desire for virgins, they were way too whiny and he didn’t like how clingy they were afterwards. 
But you. 
You were completely untouched, completely untainted, so pure, he wanted to devour you. He wanted to own every part of you. 
You were the grand prize..he loved fucking promised women, and when you said you “belonged to God” that was it.
He was on a mission.
He had to take you from him.
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“What are you staring at?” You asked, breaking Heeseungs train of thoughts.
“Nothing..sorry angel, just spaced out.” He smiles watching you look up at him.
“Stop calling me that,” you mumbled at the nickname Heeseung bestowed to you since starting his community service at your fathers church. 
“You like it,” he teased, flashing his signature side smirk. You did, but a part of you also didn't know if he meant it in a condescending way.
“Come on, we'll be late for the service.” 
You clutched your bible and rosary to your chest and started to ascend the church steps with Heeseung trailing behind. You weren’t sure what exactly he did to end up here, but he’s been a big help to you with all the church donation organizing. 
And he hardly complained, it even seemed like he was starting to enjoy coming to Sunday services and sitting in the pew with your friends and family. Taking your usual spots on the pew, you open your Bible and wait for your father to start the service. 
Heeseung was so confused at what was happening, he couldn’t understand what your dad was preaching about, didn’t understand the songs, and didn’t know a single prayer. This whole thing was a fucking waste of his time. The only good thing about these Sunday services was being near you. Especially when you got on your knees during the service, when you would take the bread of Christ in your mouth and swallow it down with the sacramental wine, it had him imagining unspeakable things. The way you had your hands clasped together, looking up with big doe eyes as you took the offerings was such a sinful sight. 
After the service you stayed behind with Heeseung to put away any new donations made by the churchgoers. 
“Did you enjoy today's service?” You ask. 
“Yeah, I definitely learned a lot today,” a sheepish grin adorns his face. He doesn’t even remember half of it.
There wasn’t any denying Heeseung was attractive. Everything about him was inviting. Sometimes your hands would brush or he would accidentally press up against you to walk around in the small donation room and it had a flushing sensation on your body. 
You tried not to focus on it, you were also very well aware of the promiscuous reputation he carried on his back. 
“That’s good, I’m going to miss having you around here when you leave us,” you admit shyly.
“Don’t worry angel, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” He smirked, leaning forward on the sorting table you both were working at. 
“You’re such a flirt,” You shake your head. He can see the smile you’re biting back and the tips of your ears redden.
“Can’t help it when I’m around a pretty girl,” he shrugs.
You roll your eyes and focus back on sorting through the small donation pile. He’s a player, he’s a player, you repeat to yourself in your head, he doesn’t like you in that way.
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Where am I? 
A floral field surrounds you, kneeling on a blanket, clad in a typical dress you normally wear for Sunday services with your rosary clutched in your hands. What’s going on?
“Hey angel..” that voice, ah that velvet smooth voice that has your heart in your throat.
He looks beautiful, of course he does, sitting on the blanket next to you. His dark messy hair falling in front of his doe eyes, he’s in white slacks and a white button up, the sleeves rolled up.
He almost looks ethereal, “come closer to me.” 
Without hesitation you move to him. 
“Let me see,” he motions toward the beads in your hands. You hand them over and watch the mischievous smirk creep onto his face. He moves behind you on his knees and rubs his hands on your shoulders, massaging you. You hum feeling his large hands rub down your arms stopping at your wrists.
He wraps the beads around your wrists, binding them together behind your back. You look at him confused, but he just smiles and turns your body around to face him. He sits back on his bottom and pulls into his lap. Making sure to position you where you’re straddling his thigh, causing your dress to lift up slightly.
“H-Heeseung what are you-“
He stroked your cheek, cutting you off, “can you pray for me?”
“What?” 
He rubs his hands on your exposed thighs. “Let me hear you pray. Recite the all father, for me, angel.” The nickname only makes you shudder under his touch. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears.
“Our Father, Who art in heaven,” 
You suddenly gasp, feeling him grab your hips and rock your body back and forth on his thigh. 
“Hall-hallowed be Thy N-n-name. Thy Kingdom co-come,” you gasp and try to move your hands from behind your back but he's restrained you tightly with your rosary. The friction from his pants against your drenched panties rubbing against your swollen clit is slowly becoming unbearable.  
“Thy Wi-will be do-done, On-on earth as it is-is in Heaven.”
You cry out as he starts flexing his thigh underneath you, desperate to touch him you fight against the rosary keeping your arms bound behind you. He pulls you down harder on his leg making you rock against him faster. This is how he wanted you, completely at his mercy.
“Keep going angel…” His lips were on your neck sucking the soft skin between his teeth.
“Give us-us this day, o-our daily br-bread,”
He grabs your throat making you look up at him and watches you intently as you rock against his thigh sloppily trying to desperately chase your high. You pant with your eyes wide and glassy, your moves becoming more erratic as you struggle against the rosary. 
“And for-forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who-who trespass ag-against us.”
You were soaking through his slacks. Your voice gets more breathy as you feel that knot in your lower belly ready to snap, closing your eyes trying to desperately keep the same pace against his flexed thigh. 
“Don’t you dare look away….” He growls gripping your chin, your eyes snap open and he stares right into your soul. “Make a mess, angel.” 
Your eyes stared into his dark ones and you moaned out loudly feeling yourself release onto his thigh. Your mouth dropped open but only choked noises were coming out, letting the blinding heat of your orgasm course through your veins. He lets you catch your breath while rubbing your trembling bottom lip, “finish it..”
“And lead us not into temptation.....but deliver us from evil.” you pant out staring at him still on your orgasmic high.
“Good fucking girl”
You shoot up from your bed, your body covered in a thin layer of sweat and a sticky feeling between your legs. Pulling the blanket off of you to try and let in cold air to your body you gasp at the sight of your gray sleep pants completely soaked through.
What the fuck..
Why did you just dream about Lee Heeseung..
And did you just cum completely untouched?.. 
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Swallowing thickly you walk through the church parking lot to your designated donation table by your fathers side. Today was the church food drive, lots of people were showing up to drop off their canned goods. It was also the first day seeing Heeseung since your dream. Since that night you’ve felt the dull uncomfortable ache between your legs, and a part of you knew only he could fix it. Which only had you feeling disgusting for having such thoughts. 
“Seungie!” A high pitched squeaky voice breaks you out of your concentration and you see a girl running toward Heeseung. The girl, only clad in short shorts and a small tank top, throws her arms around Heeseung giggling.
He’s smirking at her and obviously checking her out. An uncomfortable churn in your stomach makes you look away. 
Why do you care? You knew he had quite the reputation, lots of the girls around you whispered about his escapades and how they so badly wanted to experience it for themselves.Why were you jealous?
Heeseung sees you from the corner of his eye, how your body tensed up when he hugged Karina and how you immediately looked away.
Fuck, how is he supposed to get you to trust him when these stupid girls are acting this way in front of you. 
“Are you even listening to me, Seungie?” Karina’s shrill voice snaps him back to his reality. 
“Sorry, I’m just super busy right now. Can we talk later?”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes, “so what? Now that you fucked me you don’t want to talk to me now?”
“Don’t you have a boyfriend to worry about?” He glares.
“We broke up..you said I was special. I thought we could be tog-“
He raises his hand and shakes his head. “I’m gonna stop you right there Karina. You were fun, but that hookup was all we’re ever gonna have. I never told you to break up with him.”
“So that’s it? We’re over?”
He wants to laugh, “Karina we were never a thing.”
“Fuck you, Heeseung.” He watches her stomp away with tears in her eyes. 
He looks back at your table and sees your back is turned to him. 
Ah fuck, were you mad? He watches you grab a box of donated food and walk into the small donation building you two work out of. 
Perfect, he can talk to you alone. 
“Are you mad at me?” Heeseung asks, walking into the donation room startling you. 
“Why do you ask that?” You mumble avoiding his gaze.
“You’ve won’t even look at me, angel.” He stands next to you as you place the food on the shelf. You look at him briefly and chew your bottom lip nervously.  
“I'm just busy Heeseung, we have a lot of food to sort through.”
“I don't care angel, what's wrong?” He moves closer to you, caging you against the shelf you’re working on. 
“Are you dating that girl that was all over you?” You blurt out before you realize. You feel the embarrassment wash over you. Way to keep it cool. 
He studies your face before breaking out into a smug grin. You weren’t mad at him, you were jealous of Karina. 
“Does that matter?” He asks, leaning toward you testing just to see how jealous you really were. 
“I guess not, what you do with easy girls is your business.” You bite. 
He barks a laugh, oh you were so fucking jealous and it was so fucking hot. He has never heard you talk bad about anyone before. But here you were, calling Karina easy because you liked him. He was already tainting you. 
“I’m not dating her, angel.”
“She was all over you,” you whisper. He watched your annoyed expression turn into a pout and your eyes avoided his nervously. 
Oh you poor sweet thing. If only you knew how much I wanted to fuck you, you wouldn’t be jealous of some slut. 
“Aw, did my angel not like that?”He says with faux sympathy, caressing your cheek. 
“Don’t make fun of me!” His touch only ignited that burning feeling in the pit of your belly.
“I’m not angel, you’re just so fucking cute when you’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous!” You try not to melt into his touch but it’s hard. And he looks so inviting. 
He was standing so close to you. His cologne overwhelmed your senses, you could feel the warmth of his body heat. He watches your face and smiles, noticing how your eyes keep dropping to his lips, having a hard time on where to keep your focus. 
Time to test the waters a little further. 
“Am I making you nervous, angel?” 
“No,” you lie. He chuckles, he knows you’re lying, your body gives it away. He can see your pink cheeks, your clenched fists at your side and watches you rub your thighs together. He leans down and places his lips right on your earlobe and he inhales the scent of your floral shampoo. He feels you shudder against him.
“Does anyone else get your little body reacting this way?” His breath fans across your neck. You almost whine when he removes his face and stares down at you with hooded eyes. 
He pushes a piece of hair behind your ear and runs his thumb along your jaw. Stopping at your bottom lip he rubs it softly, of course it’s soft. 
The vivid images of your dream flash across your brain and your eyes widen remembering him doing the same thing after your orgasm. He sees your panicked gaze and he can feel his cock throbbing in his jeans. His gaze darkens, “you’re so fucking pretty, angel.”
His touch made your skin feel warm, it sent little shockwaves throughout your body and was leaving an uncomfortable mess between your thighs. 
“I-um..have to go..” you push past him and quickly walk out of the little room. You needed to breathe, your body was going into overdrive and it felt like it was on fire. This wasn’t supposed to feel good. Your body isn’t supposed to react that way. These feelings..were sinful. 
The donation drive was still busy and you didn’t want to be seen. Spotting the empty church you decide its best to put distance between you and Heeseung and try to ground yourself from these overwhelming feelings. You run in and look around the familiar space, you need to pray. You needed to beg for forgiveness. You needed to do something to stop these feelings. 
Your eyes lock onto the confessional booth and you breathe a sigh of relief. That could work.
Shutting the door to the small confessional you sit on the wooden chair and try to calm your breathing. You never felt this out of control of your body before, with an uncomfortable tightening in your abdomen. 
You hear the door to the otherside of the confessional open and close, only able to see the silhouette of the person coming in because of the latticed divider providing anonymity for the people who are using it to confess their sins to your father. 
“Are you really hiding from me, in here?��
Of course it’s him. 
“What do you want, Heeseung?” You try your best to sound stable but your voice comes out shaky. 
“Why are you hiding from me angel?”
His voice was laced with more faux sympathy. He knows what he’s doing. He also knows you’re too naive to pick up on how he’s messing with you. 
“You..you make me feel weird..”
“In a bad way?” He can’t help the smile that creeps on his face. 
“In a way..I’ve never felt before..it scares me..I don’t know what to do..”
Fuck you sounded so good like this. So desperate, so ready to be molded into his little slut. 
“Are you wet..”
He was feeling bold now. 
“W-what..”
He can hear the trembling in your voice. He lowers his voice and presses his lips against the lattice screen so you can hear him clearly. 
“Is your little pussy wet for me, angel?”
“H-Heeseung! We’re in the church! Don’t say things like that..”
He can hear the change in your breathing and whine in your tone. Oh, this was going to be a piece of cake. 
You hear him fiddle with the buckle of his belt. “Put your hand in your panties, angel..”
“I can-can’t do that..” You gasp, was he serious? Was he really going to do such immoral things in the confessional? 
“Yes you can angel, do it for me. It’ll make you feel good, baby girl, I promise.” 
As much as he wanted to degrade and ruin you, he couldn’t risk you running out of this booth and telling your father. He had to play with you a little to get you wanting more of him. 
“Touch yourself..tell me how it feels angel..”
His tone was soft and comforting, maybe..maybe just this once. And he was offering to help, you would be rude to not accept his help, right?
Slipping your shaking fingers into your skirt and into panties you feel the amount of arousal that has leaked out of you. “Wh-what do you want me to do..”
He groans, throwing his head back on the confessional wall. The question alone was enough to tip him over the edge. You really were an innocent angel, he was going to mold you into the perfect little plaything for him. 
“Rub your pussy baby, just keep rubbing it for me.”
He spits in his palm and starts rubbing his weeping cock. 
You slid your fingers between your slicked lips, lightly grazing your clit, making your hips buck in the air and a loud whimper escaping your lips before you could clamp your teeth on your bottom lip. You had never felt the need to masturbate before, this was all new to you. You find your clit again and rub your fingers faster against it, moaning out again, he presses his head against the lattice desperate to see you but can only make out the silhouette of your body and your arm moving. He fucks his fist faster to the sounds of your whimpers. 
“I can hear how wet you are angel, fuck I bet you’re dripping all over the chair. Don’t you dare go inside, I’m the only one going inside of that virgin pussy.” 
His dirty mouth only makes you whine and clench around nothing. You pressed your fingers to your entrance, you didn't slip inside, just teased the hole to get a feel for it, even more of your arousal was leaking out of you. You prop a leg on the chair giving you better access to your clit and your rub harder and faster against the swollen bundle. 
“Cum for me angel, let me hear my angel’s sweet voice when she cums.” His voice is husky and you replay the images of your dream, mixed with hearing the sounds of his groans and the squelching of his hand around his cock send you into overdrive moving your hand faster. Your vision goes spotty and you moan out in ecstasy as your orgasm hits you hard and fast. Your head hits the wall as you whine loudly, your toes curling in your shoes. The sound has Heeseung’s eyes rolling into his head and he chokes out a gasp as his cum shoots out in hot thick ropes and coats his hand and part of the confessional box. 
You sink into your chair and try to breathe, your body still convulsing from little aftershocks of your first ever orgasm. Coming down from your euphoric high you see the little cross above the door and feel the shame. 
What have you done? It’s bad enough to act on such desires..but in a confessional. This had to be unforgivable. 
Stepping out of the confessional box on shaky legs you look around the church and feel the shame overtake the high you were just on. 
You're in a church, in God's house, and you just masturbated in a confessional box. The reality of your actions repeating over and over in your head. 
Heeseung opens the door to his side of the box and immediately engulfs you in his arms, his mouth is on yours before you even have time to react; your first kiss.
It’s soft at first, both of his hands coming to cup your face but he gets hungrier by the second. Moving his soft lips against yours chasing every movement, you almost forget to breathe trying to pull away but his grip is tight on you. Sliding his tongue in between your lips and lightly massages your own causing a small groan to bubble within you. He smirks, feeling how cautious and uncertain your tongue moves against his. He pulls away, giving your bottom lip one last lick and pecking it one last time. 
“We should get back out there, angel.” 
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Sunday approached quicker than you would have liked. You spent days replaying the events of what happened with Heeseung over and over. A part of you felt saddened by the whole thing, he didn’t talk to you about it afterward and he didn’t call or text and it seemed like maybe he just wanted to add you to the long list of girls he had. But another part of you was desperate for more of him, wanting him to do more, and wanting to be enough so that he wouldn’t need those other girls. The conflicting sides of you causing inner turmoil and questioning your place in the world.
You spent your whole life with a moral code, you never let anyone challenge that or try and change who you were. And now, you didn’t know where you stood. Because if Heeseung didn’t want to be with you, and he was just using you, that would mean you changed your core values for someone who didn’t respect you. And what respectable man would want you after that? After you easily give up your innocence to someone with a questionable reputation. 
You shake the thoughts out of your head and wipe the tears on the back of your hand and continue to straighten up the church altar. Services ended an hour ago, everyone had gone home and you were left alone to clean up the altar and the mess of your life. Heeseung didn’t sit with you today like he usually did and it was his last Sunday of his community service sentence, he left right after service. So it’s safe to assume he's just gone and you were passing the time for him while he was here. 
“What are you doing in here?” Heeseung asks, startling you. You turn around and watch him walk down the aisle to the altar he sees you cleaning.
“Just putting some stuff away,” you mumbled wiping the rag across the marble altar table. 
“Where is your father?” He asks looking around making sure no one was in sight. 
“The clergy have a lunch meeting together this afternoon, I told my father I’d stay behind to clean so he can attend.”
He hears the sadness in your voice and bites back a smile. He saw you the entire service staring at him with hopeful eyes trying to get his attention. He wanted you to miss him, to want him, to need him. And judging by the sad tone and watery eyes, his plan had worked. He had you right where he wanted you. 
“Why are you still here? Isn’t today your last Sunday?” you ask, finally meeting his eyes.  
“Is that why you’re sad, angel? Because you think I’d leave without my girl?” He smiled, stopping in front of the altar. You roll your eyes and turn back around to finish what you were doing. 
“I’m not your girl Heeseung,” 
“You and I both know that’s a lie, angel. Careful, God doesn’t like liars.” He taunts coming up behind you and rubbing his hands down your arms. He feels you tense under his touch, the goosebumps rise on your skin. 
Dropping his face down to your shoulder he sighs softly, “you know, you look really angelic right now..standing here in this pretty white dress, all these candles lit, it's almost sinful how beautiful you look.” He whispers in your ear gently nipping at your earlobe. 
You grip the rag in your hand tightly. “What do you want from me, Heeseung?” 
“I want you,” He answers, kissing your shoulder. 
“I don’t..I don’t want to be like other girls..” you softly admit.
He smirks against your shoulder rubbing his hands on your hips and turning you around.
“Angel, you’re nothing like the other girls.”
“Really…?” You look up at him with your wide doe eyes and he smiles. 
Gotcha, angel. You’re mine now. 
“Trust me baby, they don’t compare to you..”
The innocent smile on your face was going straight to his cock. He needed to work fast. Rubbing your cheek tenderly he kisses your lips, letting his tongue work its way into your mouth. He grabs your hand in his larger one and guides it down to the front of his jeans placing it right over his hard on. You gasp and pull away confused, but he chases your mouth with his and continues to kiss you while he “whines” to you. 
“Angel..*kiss*..it hurts..*kiss*..it hurts so bad..*kiss*..please touch me angel..*kiss*..make it better..please..” The soft whine in his voice makes you want to help. You don’t want him to hurt, you have to help him. 
You were too fucking easy to mold. 
He unbuckles his jeans and lowers them just enough to release himself. Your hands are clumsy as you reach for him, he sees your nervousness and it only fuels the fire. Wrapping your small hand around his heavy length you look at him for guidance. He wraps his hand around yours and guides it up and down in a pumping motion. You watch his eyes close and hear him hiss, “Fuck…just like that angel..”
He lets you work on his length for a few minutes before he tests the waters again. 
“Angel..I need more..I need your mouth. Can you be a good girl and get on your knees for me?”
You stop pumping him and look at him for a few seconds. You nod, and drop to your knees on the wooden floor and you finally fully take the sight of him. He’s long and thick, it bobs in the air, it’s two toned with an angry red tip and salty precum leaking from the slit. The sight had your mouth watering.
The sight of you finally on your knees in front of him was almost too much. He wasn’t going to last long. 
You look up at him and grab his cock and lick a circle around the mushroom tip, suckling the tip to drink in his precum. 
His knees almost give out instantly. This was already better than any prior sexual experience he had ever had. 
“Angel..” He breathes out and makes a makeshift ponytail out of your hair. You keep his eye contact and take his length slowly into your mouth, hoping you're doing okay. Your tongue glides around his throbbing length and he moans again. 
“Do you want me to guide you angel..” 
You hum around him and the smug grin returns to his face. “Relax your jaw and let me take over.”
You obey and he hums stroking your cheek. The sweet affection only lasts for a second before he pulls your mouth further down his cock and you choke around him. The vibrations only added to his pleasure. Tears sting your eyes as he starts to fuck your face pushing your head down further and further on his cock. 
“That’s it angel..you’re doing so well for me..”
His praises only fuel you to try and be good for him. You let him continue to pound into your throat, the chocked sounds around his cock pushing him close to his release. 
Your tear eyes and mouth wrapped around him, having him seeing stars, he pulls out quickly. He was only going to cum in one hole today and it wasn’t going to be your mouth. He watches the spit and precum dribble down your chin and mix with your tears. 
Fuck. He was so close to losing all self control. 
“Fuck me angel, you look so good like this, what would God say of he saw you like this,” He teases wiping the mess off your chin.
“Don’t say that..”you frowned.
The pout..that fucking pout did it. It pushed him to the edge. 
“Fuck…I cant hold on anymore I have to fuck you.” His eyes narrowed as he gripped you by your hair to your feet.  
“Hee-Heeseung I can’t..” you shake your head and try to back away. 
“You can and you will, angel.”
You stare at him with a confused expression, was he serious? He doesn’t give you time to take in his words because he's picking you up and leaning you against the marble altar you just cleaned. He places you on the altar, discarding the large Bible, and other items to the floor before sitting you down and slotting himself between your legs. 
He grabbed the front of your dress and yanked it down with your bra exposing your bare tits to him, your nipples instantly harden from the cool air. 
You truly looked sinful. Sitting on the church altar, bible discarded on the floor, lit candles around the both of you, the sun shining in through the stained glass windows painting you in red hues, if there truly was a God Heeseung was going to hell for what he was about to do to God’s favorite angel.
Your doe eyes were wide with anticipation as you stared at him waiting for his next move. Everything around you seemed to have blur out, no longer caring where you were. All you could focus on was Heeseung. 
He takes one of your hardened nipples into his mouth and massages the other with his large hand, pinching the bud between his fingers. Your jaw goes slack at the feeling of his tongue, you arch into him at the new sensation. 
While you're distracted he slips his hand under your dress and skillfully tugs down your panties, of course noticing how the entire front of them are completely drenched in your arousal. He bites down harder on your nipple and sucks harshly causing you to arch your back again and lean your head back further and he carefully slots the ruined panties in his back pocket while you’re not looking. A perfect reminder of today. 
Pulling away he kisses your chest before standing up straight and looking down on you, he pushes you gently on your back, you shiver feeling the cold marble under your back. He pushes your knees up and places your feet flat on the altar displaying your leaking pussy to him. He licked his bottom dip, he wanted a taste of you, but time was a factor and he needed to get his dick in you fast before you got lost in your head and changed your mind. 
He ran his fingers over your slippery pussy gathering some of your moisture and rubbed around your entrance and slowly pushed one of his long fingers inside. He watched your eyes flutter shut and mouth drop open. Fuck, you were impossibly tight.
You felt your walls clenching around him and he shoved another finger in. You moaned out at the intrusion.
You pushed yourself up on your elbows as you watched, he continued to scissor his two fingers inside of you to stretch you out.
“Does it feel good angel?” He whispers against your knee and kisses it. 
You nod cautiously, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. 
“You're so fucking tight I don’t know if my cock will fit in this little pussy angel.” He smirks feeling how you clench around his fingers at his dirty talk. 
His long fingers explored you searching for that special spot. He taps a particular spongy spot and you drop back onto your back moaning loudly, and your hips buck into his hand. 
Found it. 
The amount of moisture leaking out of you was sinful, he dropped his head between your thighs and licked a stripe from his fingers to your clit to just get a taste of you. You jerked at the sensation and clenched harder around his fingers. 
Fuck, he usually couldn’t be bothered about going down on women, but you tasted so sweet he was definitely going to have to spend an hour or two later just devouring your leaking cunt. Kissing the inside of your thigh he fucks his fingers into you faster, making sure to hit that spongy spot.
“Come on angel..cum for me..”
He latches his mouth back onto your chest leaving purple bites in his path. You groan the feeling of that familiar knot in your abdomen is back. Running your fingers through his messy dark hair you arch slightly more into his mouth, your hips stutter, and you release all over his hand crying out. His fingers stayed inside of you working you through your orgasm.
Watching you come down from your high his dark eyes flicker to the large cross above you and he chuckles softly, maybe he should thank the heavens for bringing you to him. 
His smirk is devilish as he pulls his fingers from you and pumps himself a few times and pulls your body closer down to his awaiting cock.
He sees the apprehension on your face and smiles. “Don’t worry angel, I’ll make it fit.”
You nervously try to close your legs but he slaps the outside of your thigh harshly making you whine, “your pussy is mine, angel. Don't hide it from me."
You whine and let him spread your legs. 
He grabbed his cock and spread your release along his aching length. He pressed his tip to your folds and rubbed it back and forth, from clit to your entrance making you writhe in overstimulation.
In a moment of slight panic realizing what was about to happen you brought your hands up to his chest to try and push him away. 
“Wait Heeseung..I don’t think I’m ready..”
“Stop thinking angel, just let me think for you,” He smirks and you feel his mushroom tip stretching you as he pressed inside of you slowly. He lifted the bottom of your dress to your chest so he wouldn't miss the view.
You hissed and he went deeper, pushing a little at a time. He pushed your body down on the altar flat on your back as he pushed into your walls further. Your nails scraping the marble under you and tears filled your wide eyes as you felt him reach the thin barricade of your virginity. This was it, there wasn't any coming back from this. You took a shaky breath, your body was trembling underneath him, he moaned loudly as he ripped right past it and you choked out a sob when you felt it break.
God, forgive me.
You let out a small pained whimper as he continued stretching you to your limit, the further he pushed in the more painful it was. Finally, he reached the hilt inside your tight virgin hole. His pelvis pressed right against yours. 
He stayed buried inside your heat as he leaned down and placed a tender soft kiss on your lips. Nipping at your bottom lip and slithering his tongue past the barrier and exploring your mouth trying to distract you from the discomfort. Your mouth was slack against his, the stretch was too painful to focus on anything else.
Breaking the kiss, he looked down at you grinning at the sight of the small bulge under your belly button where his cock was. 
“You’re taking me so well angel,”
He pressed down on the bulge and watched you gasp out. “You feel that? God made you for me.” He whispered, wrapping his hand around your neck applying slight pressure. 
You were shaking, the tears never stopped streaming down your reddened cheeks. He pulled out of you and you breathed a sigh of relief from the pain subsiding but he pushed back in you hard, causing another choked sob from your throat. He kept his thrusts at a fixed pace at first, easing himself in and out as you whimpered and writhed under him. He took a second to admire the way your body twisted against him. The more his cock filled you, the better it started to feel, the dull pain between your legs starting to fade into bliss. 
He smiles proudly seeing you start to relax and let your body slowly start to rock against his. 
“That’s it angel, fuck that little virgin pussy on me” He sped up his thrusts, moving his hand between the two of you and pressing his fingers down on your clit. Your back arches off the altar, “oh god!”
“Not God baby…say my name..scream it.”
You wrapped your thighs around him as he rocked into you harder. “Heeseung!”
Your eyes rolled back as your body was fully succumbing to the pleasure he was giving you. You could barely feel any pain anymore as he fucked harder and faster into you. Your hands went straight to his shoulders for leverage, “M-more…Hee-Heeseung, I need more..”
He groaned, watching you bounce against him, licking his lips, his pace picked up. “my angel wants more? You want me to fuck you harder baby?”
You nod, scraping your nails down his shoulders.
“Say it angel. Tell me what you want.”
He needed to hear it, he needed to hear the dirty words leave your mouth. He had to hear and see the vision of you he’s been so desperate to have. 
Your wide teary eyes stare up at him, the silver cross necklace bouncing on your bare chest with every harsh thrust he gives only adds to the sinful sight.
“Fuck me..please fuck me, Heeseung.”
The sight and sound was better than anything he could have ever imagined.
He plunged into you without any restraint, no more holding back. You were like his very own fuckdoll now, your body was at his mercy. His fingers kept rubbing your clit, The noises escaping him were feral. He was lost to his own pleasure.
His thrusts grew even more ferocious as he hammered into you relentlessly. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced your head to look down where he was entering you. 
“Do you see that angel? You’re all mine now,” he growled.
You clenched your jaw as you looked at the sight of his cock entering you at a fast pace. His entire pelvis was coated with your arousal, you could see a small hint of your blood along his cock.
He noticed it too, it only made him want to fuck your harder.
“Say it, say you’re mine,”
"I-I'm y-yours!"
You hugged him with your legs, clinging to his shoulders as you came again. Your walls squeeze him tight as you released yourself on his cock. "I’m going to cum, angel,” He mumbled against your open mouth. He threw his head back and you felt the spurts of warmth bloom within you. He let his head hang back for a moment before he looked at you and slowly pushed your body back down onto the altar. He stayed inside of you, looking down at your fucked out body. His hand glided over your trembling thighs. Leaning down on top of you he kisses along your collarbone as you continue to shake from your orgasm.
You both stayed in each other's arms panting for a few more minutes, his lips leaving soft kisses along your sweaty skin. He hears you sniffle and pulls away. Your face is tilted back as you stare at the large cross above the both of you as silent tears stream down your face. He only smirks, he won. 
Your arms are still wrapped around him, he takes your left arm and removes it from him, breaking you out of your trance. Gently grabbing your wrist he brings your hand to his mouth and slips your ring finger into his mouth and uses his tongue to aid him in removing the silver purity ring. He holds the once sacred jewelry between his teeth with a cocky grin and spits it out. You cringe hearing the metal clink and bounce off of the marble altar down to the wooden floor.
“You definitely can’t wear that anymore, angel.”  He rubs his large hands over your thighs and up to your stomach. “You don’t belong to God anymore.” He pulls out of you and smiles watching the creamy mess leak out of you and fall onto the sacred altar. You whine loudly when he dips a finger into your sore hole, he scoops a small amount of both of your releases and taps your lips. You open obediently and let him slip the mixture into your mouth. “You belong to me now.”
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ੈ✩‧₊˚Yeah, this was def supposed to be more plot than porn but uhhh yeah that didn't really happen....oops. I have a perm taglist and my WIP is updated, let me know if you want to join 🫶🏼ੈ✩‧₊˚
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hazelfoureyes · 2 months
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The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part two)
This is part two! Here is part one. I lied, there is a bit of smut! Oopsie daisy. Inspired by @moonmark98 ‘s story idea of reader trying to forget Alastor and failing. I hadn’t planned a second part initially so I hope you like it 🥺
⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣
You return to earth and spend a year trying to crawl out from under the memory of Alastor. When an employee tells you a terrible past trauma, you end up right back where you started.
<Tags/Warnings/Promises: Alastor x reader, light smut, not as explicit as part one, masturbation, implied childhood trauma, justified homicide regarding said implication, stabbing, death, a realistic description of my former job, gerbil slander, your bitch aunt Sara, hiking as a hobby, guns, shooting, choking, florida weather, mentions of the 2021 Loo Loo Land fire>
minors DNI
“Ooh my, this is highly unusual. Charlie is right, you really shouldn’t be here.” Stolas fretted over you. “Uuunfortunately I don’t have my book at this particular moment however I can just snag it from Blitzy and be back soon.”
“What’s a blitzy?” Angel looked around the room to no one in particular.
“What isn’t he?” Stolas cooed. 
“Wait a minute!” Husk snapped his fingers, “Is that the imp who burned down loo loo land?”
“The very one!”
“He also takes hits out on people on earth, doesn’t he?” Husk gave Stolas a sideways look. Alastor hummed in acknowledgment.
“Ah haha yes” Nervously chuckling, Stolas scratched at the feathers behind his neck, “Anywho! I’ll return shortly and get you back where you belong, little one.” He flashed his kind smile to you before bowing to Charlie and portaling out of the room. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Charlie sat beside you on the edge of the bed. You’d been escorted immediately to an empty room upon arrival, sat down while the core staff of the hotel flitted about wildly upon hearing Angel’s recounting of events.
“You smell dirty”, the tiny maid cackled and ran to you before being lifted by her apron by Husk. 
“That is a”, you rubbed your wrists nervously, “complicated question…”
“There’s nowhere safer in all of hell than this room. With Vaggie and me and Alastor”, Charlie brought her hands to her mouth, “or— not Alas- I mean” She looked at Vaggie, “What do I mean??”
“Nothing and no one will lay a finger on you here.” Vaggie was staring at Alastor when she said it.
“I don’t think its fingers anyone’s worried about”, Angel shifted his gaze from Alastor to you and back.  
Alastor turned his head  slowly to meet Angel’s eyes, “Did you say something, Angel Dust?”
He shook his head and quickly left, Niffty and Husk in tow.
“I think you should leave, too.” Vaggie crossed her arms.
Alastor replied by taking a step closer to you, gesturing with his microphone, “I don’t see what all the fuss is about. She is safe and sound, barely a bruise on her.” He looked over you, the side of your face still slightly pink from the way you hit the ground hardly an hour ago. He could hear your body sliding across the wooden cabin floor still, what a strangely exciting noise. What else could he drag you across? What surfaces could he slide your over? What noises would they make? What noises would you make?
“You took her fucking soul, Alastor. In a coerced deal!”
“If I remember correctly, that is exactly what I had been asked to do.” He grinned, taking his monocle off and cleaning it on his sleeve. Vaggie looked to Charlie, who shrunk from her horrified face. “Plus, she’s still alive. Who knows if the deal even counts. I’ve never made one with a living person.” With an exaggerated shrug, Alastor took a seat on the sofa opposite the bed, legs crossed. “Either way, she isn’t anywhere near Val anymore.” His eyes met yours, for the first time since… 
You looked away. He wanted to grab your chin and force you to see him. He wanted to read what was written on your face. Shame? No…yes, but something more. Embarrassment. Confusion. Ah— You clenched your jaw, finally returning his stare. Anger. “Did I not do exactly what I had promised I would? What I had warned you I would?” Your lips curled over your teeth. “While yes, I hadn’t explicitly stated the number of times-“
“Stop talking! No, no. Enough of that.” Charlie waved her arms as if she could dissipate the very topic away, “Alastor could you please give me a moment alone with her?” She looked at him with big, worried eyes, “Please?”
Through gritted teeth Alastor acquiesced, “It is your hotel, Princess. I’ll be just outside the door.” The last sentence was for you, you could feel it like you could feel his shadow still ghosting over your legs.
As soon as the door shut, she closed the distance between you, looking to Vaggie who offered her a supportive nod.
“Seriously, are you hurt? Did he— Did he hurt  you?”
Oh, you wish he had. That’d be easier to say. Easier to process. You wish he’d knocked you around like Val had done earlier. That left you indignant, enraged. But this — whatever this was — you couldn’t find purchase on a reaction. You didn’t even want to think the things bubbling under your consciousness. 
“Just my pride. Uhh,” you shifted, your thighs and cunt sore to the touch, “He really did warn me. Got my okay, kind of. And he didn’t hurt me, except dragging me around and flipping me but-”, You noticed Charlie’s alarmed expression, “I’m physically fine.”
She nodded, her expression still oozing concern, “Well that’s good, then.”
“What… You both seem humanish, but what exactly are-“ You tipped your head in the direction of the door. 
“Well I think Angel is some kind of spider…Husk, not entirely sure honestly”, Charlie looked up as if searching for a memory, “Alastor is a deer. It’s all tied to how people lived and died, I think.”
A deer? You shook your head, “Nothing about that man resembles a prey animal.”
“His death sure did.” Vaggie commented.
“So if I have some weird death I’ll end up here? If I drown… I’ll come back as a fish?” You were mostly thinking out loud, and hadn’t expected Charlie to nod in agreement.
“But don’t think about that! You might still go to heaven. Like Al said, he isn’t even sure the deal is binding.” She beamed and clapped her hands together.
It felt binding. 
When that green light had erupted from beneath you, you thought you could feel him. Not the tentacles, or the memory of his hand. It felt like he was in the light itself, casting shadows on the ceiling in the shape of you. It felt alive, every ray of light a breathe washing over you. 
You looked down at the robe, white and silky. Where were your clothes? Where was your fucking aunt? What about your phone? You had a car, too. Wait, no… did you drive to her house? Or did she…You hadn’t slept since being dragged to hell. Staring at the hem of the sleeve, you tried to focus your mind but suddenly you were wading in cognitive mud.
Shadows gathered near the foot of the bed before you saw Alastor rise out of the cluster. Charlie said something, Vaggie said something but sharper. It sounded far away already. Your body was beginning to feel heavy, an ache settling across your back and thighs.
“Perhaps you should lie down, my dear.” His voice cut through the murky waters of your thoughts. The bed sunk beside you as he pressed a hand down, the other lifting your chin to force eye contact. Vaggie made a loud noise, Charlie a smaller one, a longer one. Was it words? Were they speaking? Your lids were heavy over your eyes, Alastor’s face beginning to blur. His smile looked strained, eyebrows knitted together in an emotion almost recognized. Concern? His grin threw it off. You raised your eyebrows to try and open your eyes wider but the effect was minimal.
You heard yourself groan as an arm hooked under your knees, another catching your shoulders as you fell to the side. It felt like you were floating. Your legs came down slowly, you could feel the robe adjusting around your waist. Your head went back before comfortably straightening. A warmth spread down your neck, leaving goosebumps to runaway down your shoulder. It was dark now, and in the haze you heard from somewhere so close it felt like maybe you had thought it yourself,  “In perpetuity, mon cher.” 
You didn’t recognize the room at first, but when you finally managed to lift yourself out of bed you sighed. Home. You only knew it had been real because of the robe and busted lip. Well, mostly sure. 
 No one noticed you were gone, which wasn’t shocking. Working backwards, you could piece together you had gone to visit your aunt on Saturday morning. You awoke early Monday in your own bed some 60 miles from your aunt's home. Your car had been found abandoned off an old dirt road way outside of town. 
You tried to get back to life, get to work. But you were clearly only half there.
Your aunt was found dead the following weekend, half submerged in a swamp just outside of Tampa. Her funeral was funny. Not “haha” funny, “Say hi to Val for me” kinda funny. When they lowered her into the ground you wondered what she looked like. What's the animal manifestation of a selfish, raging bitch? What’s the most untrustworthy home appliance? 
Probably a gerbil, or a toaster. 
You found yourself doing that a lot, What will they look like in the afterlife?
It took a good six months for you to stop sleeping in the robe. You couldn’t trash it, it was evidence you had been spirited away. It smelled like smoke and baby oil. Like Angel. It was soft on your skin, like—
Oh. It took less time for the dreams to calm down. Maybe a month of waking up in a cold sweat.  
At first they were stressful. Val backhanding you. The feeling of leather chafing against your wrists. The cabin. The real one, not the set.
But then one night they weren’t stressful. You could remember the dream like it had really happened. A large hand cupping your cheek, another roaming past your hips before hooking under your knee. The warmth of a breath on your neck, on your navel. More hands. Everywhere. Your back, your ankle, your neck. 
You woke up and the first feeling you felt was disappointment. It hit you like a truck. 
The dreams slowly ramped up until some nights you awoke mid-orgasm. Never in your life had you experienced wet dreams; you didn’t even know women got them.
And it wasn’t always him—- well, not at first. You’d be kissing someone, a stranger or your ex or whoever. You’d have your hands in their hair, enjoying the feeling of their tongue sliding over yours. You’d be positively humming into their mouth. They’d pull you forward, lie you down, tugging your pants down your legs.
When they’d kiss up your arm and nestle into your neck they’d whisper hottily into your ear, “My doe.”
Sometimes you woke up, but many times you didn’t. Many times you grabbed his face and kissed him, letting him take control and direct you. You’d shrink beneath him, allowing him to use your body as he pleased. You’d surrender, you’d melt. He’d fuck you into the ground of god-knows-where, nails cutting into the flesh of your ass as he pulled you up to meet each punishing thrust. There were trees and starlight and you felt the humidity on your skin. 
You’d always squirm away, try to escape the pleasure and he would find joy in pulling you back onto his cock. It felt like a game where you both already knew the outcome. “Going to cum, sweetheart?”, would be the last thing you heard before the real life spasms of your release stirred you awake. 
The first man you took home after returning to earth was sweet. Gentle. Too gentle. You’d try to direct him, to let him know you wouldn’t break but he’d shy away from asserting dominance.
Other partners were more in charge, but it didn’t sit right. If you were going to allow someone control over you, you felt like they had to deserve it. You needed to respect them in some capacity. 
You tried choking during sex, while it did heighten the pleasure their hand felt so small it broke your concentration. Bondage was fun, you got a rush from shibari, but all it did was inform your dreams. 
You tried femdom, and while it was impowering it didn’t scratch that itch. You tried being a sub, but like before you found the people over you as unworthy of you. You didn’t think so highly of yourself, it’s just that autonomy was precious and these people were, well, just people. Mortals.  
Your friends enjoyed your hoe era, self titled, but it was short lived. It had been eight months since you returned when you bought your first real sex toy, and took up hiking. It felt nice to be outdoors, and the days you spent in the forests seemed to make for nights of  less intense dreams. 
Your toy was, ashamedly, selected for its three points of contact. A pink little vibrator, big enough to need some work into you but not painful. The first time you used it you clung to your pillow, heart ballooning against your spiked blood pressure, and screamed a chorus of his name. The two points inside you vibrating in tandem with the small suction cup shape extending from the base doming your clit brought back delicious memories. 
Every time, you felt embarrassed after. You could imagine him hearing you all the way in hell and chuckling at how pathetic you were. Satisfied at how empty you felt after.
It wasn’t just about the sex, you were never a very sexually needy person. You were chasing that feeling of surrender, of being both safe and out of control at the same time. The little bit of danger with the pleasure. But not, “local woman found dead in the woods” kind of danger. “Corrupt your soul and ruin your afterlife” kind of danger.
After a year of being earthside, life had finally calmed. Were you still fucked in your dreams? Yes, but a manageable once or so a month. Your toy was nice, but not necessary. A man, or anyone, hadn’t touched you in months. And that was alright. You felt almost normal, except the mornings you woke up hoping to see a pair of red eyes somewhere in the room. 
You chalked it up to escapism. 
Work had promoted you, twice, which helped distract you from boredom. While performing one of your monthly employee meetings, you met with a young man you’d recently hired. He was still in college, but he had a good head on his shoulders and made quick decisions. You were confident he’d be your equal within the year.
(Implied childhood trauma below the line; not graphic but it’s implied to have happened)
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“Tired?” He asked you while you logged back into your computer. 
You nodded, yawning into the back of your hand, “Spent most of Sunday at Shallow Ridge. Scoping out a good camping spot for when it warms up.”
“No shit, my dad hunts out there. Every Sunday, too.”
“I didn’t take you for the hunting type”, You blinked away the exhaustion and opened his employee file.
“Nah I’m not.” He shook his head, “He used to take me all the time when I was little.”
You nodded, not looking at him and only half listening, “Aww, sounds fun.”
He scoffed. You found the audio file of his graded phone calls, double clicking it. The file seemed corrupted. 
“Not fun?” You absentmindedly asked.
You opened the program to manually find the call file. The silence began to creep over you until you felt your chest heavy under the weight of it.
You finally looked at him. The look in his eyes was distant, the color from his face was gone. 
“Hey”, your tone changed, your subconscious recognizing something before you did.
He snapped back up, looking at you now. His smile didn’t meet his eyes. You didn’t say anything, just pushed your chair from your desk and looked directly at him.
“What?” He averted his gaze.
“You know you can tell me anything, right? You’re not just a resource here. Hell, I see you more than my own flesh and blood.”
He nodded, and when he finally brought his eyes back to yours his composure cracked and tears fell down his cheeks in streams. “It’s fine” he forced a laugh, “It was like a million years ago.”
You took off the rest of the day, and after providing hugs and your own tears and information on company sponsored counseling and resources, you went home.
Well, first you went to the camping store. And then home. Your dreams that week were calm, as if they knew you couldn’t enjoy a romp in a field.
When Saturday night bled into Sunday morning, you drove your car to Shallow Ridge. You placed the keys on the front seat and left your phone under the seat itself.
You waited for four hours, but eventually a truck pulled up and the man you saw in various Facebook photos and tagged family Christmas cards made his way into the dense forest. You circled back on the trail, head dizzy. 
You knew you couldn’t overpower him, but you weren’t trying to win. You just wanted to make him hurt. You’d met men like him before. You’d suffered men like him. Survived men like him. When you two crossed paths on the barely marked trail and you were a beat behind him, you stopped, took out the hunting knife you were told could cut bone, and brought it down into the crook of his neck with both hands.
He whipped around, shock and panic on his face as his hands came back from his shoulder bloody. When he scrambled for his gun you sliced at his chest, then again at his throat but it wasn’t deep enough to stop him. 
As he advanced on you, fumbling with his shotgun, you tumbled backwards. He fell with you, pinning you down beneath the full weight of his body on your stomach. Twisting beneath him you almost got onto your side when you sunk the knife into his inner thigh, remembering the artery there from your mother’s surgery. He got the gun loaded, aimed it at your chest, “Crazy bitch!”
“Fuck you.” 
He fired.
Your breath left steam as it flitted weakly from your body, frost still on the ground. Your mouth was open as blood held your face to the forest floor. As your vision darkened, you watched the man slump over and onto the ground beside you. His eyes were open and unmoving. 
A burst of green erupted from beneath you, and you smiled as you sank down into the light.
“Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?”
(Part three)
༻Masterlist༺
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buckyalpine · 26 days
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18+ Know what I want? Flustered Bucky. Blushing like a school boy Bucky. Chewing his lip, stuttering with his cock leaking cause your mouth is so fuckin' filthy Bucky. Dominance slipping, needy while you worship him, Bucky.
"Why is your cock so pretty baby" You cooed, catching him off guard as you gave him long, languid strokes while seated in his lap as he sat upright against the headboard, his breath hitching his his throat. Your eyes were drawn to his perfect pink cockhead, currently glistening with precum, a pretty fat drop dripping onto your fingers as soon as the words left your mouth. "Hm?"
"W-what?" Bucky blinked at you while his heart started to race, his cheeks growing hot when you stopped stroking him, moving your hand to form a tight ring around the base of his cock instead.
"Mphm, so pretty" You took your other hand, tapping his tip, letting a string of his arousal pull onto your finger tip, humming in satisfaction at just how well the sticky web stayed connected to your finger as you popped it into your mouth. You smirked at the whimper he let out, noticing the way his neck and chest were flushed, swear beading at his forehead.
"It’s-it’s no-" He tried to shake his head, too flustered, too shy for all this attention you were giving him, his own voice melting into a needy moan when your wet finger swiped over his frenulum.
"Shhh" You snaked down till you were between his legs, lightly smacking his thighs, motioning for him to lie down. "So. Fucking. Pretty" You whispered between kitten licks, focused on where he's most sensitive, laving over his slit, picking up the drops of his arousal on your tongue.
"Oh god" his voice was breathless, fingers digging into the sheets with his chest heaving while he watched you looking at his cock so intently, taking care of his most precious places.
"Y'know I like pretty cocks baby, but your is a the prettiest" Bucky had no idea what the hell you were doing to him, each of your words sending him into a space he'd never been in. He didn't want you to stop, spreading his legs further for you, looking at with you puppy eyes, his lip chewed raw, waiting for you to continue.
"Good boy, showing me how pretty your cock is, huh?, C'mon, show me all of you baby, show off your pretty dick" You smirked and Bucky swore his cheeks couldn't get hotter. He nearly drew blood with how hard he bit his lip as he opened his thighs as far as they'd go, bringing his knees up and planting his feet on the bed. "That's it handsome, you like that? So shy but you're all naked with your legs spread out, so naughty sergeant"
He slung his arm over to hide his face, too shy for any of this, he was ready to beg, he needed more, craved more, you may as well have casted a spell over him, all of it was too much.
"Are you all slutty like this for others, baby?" You teased, knowing damn well Bucky would rather have the earth swallow him whole.
"Nooo, just-just you" He shook his head, still partially hiding his face.
"I know, this pretty cock is all mine, you only show it off for me, don't you"
"Please" Was all he was able to get out, heavy balls throbbing, desperate to be emptied, a desperate sound he'd never made before slipping past his lips when you moved to slot his erection between your wet folds.
"Why don't you tell me how perfect your cock is first" You grinded down your hips, letting his tip rub against your clit, moaning along with him while he chased for more, both hands flying to your hips to move you on him faster.
"Say it baby boy" You continued to grind while he tried to hump you from underneath, his hips stuttering along with the bruising grip of his hands grabbing you to rub your pussy all over his cock.
"M-my cock's pretty" Bucky whined, tears threatening to slip out as his cockhead caught against your soaked entrance, his hips bucking up, hoping to sink into your tight heat. "C'mon, please fuck me-OH GOD"
"S-so good baby!" You threw your head back as you let him sheath himself into you, falling against his chest while he started to thrust upwards. He couldn't hold back, nearly jack hammering into you, his balls slapping against your ass while he wrapped his arms around your body using you like a fucktoy.
"M'gonna cum-m'-m'gonna cum" Bucky whined between needy moans, not having any time to be embarrassed over how worked up he was, unable to last past a few strokes, his cock ready to burst.
"You gonna cum already, baby boy?" you nipped at his neck, fat drops of precum making a mess inside you while he started to lost his pace, sloppily slamming into you as best as he could, trying to starve his orgasm.
"S'too hard, cock's too hard, I can't hold it, wanna cum, please"
"Cum" You whispered, snaking your hand down to rub your clit the feeling of your pussy choking too much-
"FUCKKK" Bucky buried his face into the crook of your neck as he started to fill you up with ropes of his spend, his unending load making a mess on the sheets, "Won't-stop-I-fuck me-s'sensitive
"Shhh, let it out, let it all out for me" You pushed back the hair that clung to his forehead, kissing his hot, flushed skin, "Y'know we're not done yet, Sergeant, I didn't cum yet"
I might be in heat, idk.
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baconkath · 9 months
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to all non spanish speaking content creators out there, I beg you:
do not use the term “mija”
“Mija“ is a term your mom uses
“Mija“ is a term your grandma probably uses 
why? because it is “mi hija” shortened, as in “my daughter”. It is not really a term your romantic partner would use when referring to you. In my opinion, it´s kinda cringy and a turn off
remember, just because you saw an endearment in another language it doesn’t mean it can be applied to all situations
it’s a little deppressing when there are a lot of prettier endearments out there:
amor, mi amor = love, my love
cielo, mi cielo = heaven, my heaven (?) or a placeholder for darling
corazón = heart
tesoro = treasure
vida, mi vida = life, my life
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lizzybeth1986 · 7 months
Text
Harvest Moon
Book: Perfect Match
Rating: PG
Pairings: Basil Park (m!MC) x Sage Young (f!Hayden), Basil Park x Sloane Washington, Kim Washington
Summary: It's Sage's first ever birthday! And what better way to celebrate it than a fun road trip to a place where they can see the last supermoon of the year - just her, Basil, Sloane and Kim. But this time might be a little different - because this time around, Kim knows Sage is a Match...
Word Count: 4, 099 words
Note: While looking up this year's celestial sightings would be, I discovered that 29th Sept is when we will see the last supermoon of the year. PM is set in the future but for sure I felt like it would be just extra special for me to do a similar setting for a birthday fic 😁 The events of this fic are referenced in "Saffron Sugar, Turmeric Spice"
--
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Sage is pretty sure no one-year-old has ever had a birthday surprise quite like this one.
Though technically, there was no way it could have been a surprise. This road trip was planned and booked two months in advance, Sloane and Kim have been wanting to check out Cherry Springs State Park's dark sky view for a while, and Basil and Sage have checked the Yearly Astronomical Reference Guide on seasky.org often enough to know that the very last supermoon you'll see this year, will make an appearance on Sage's birthday.
Sure, there are people who'll wonder at the wisdom of driving five hours for a view they could enjoy anywhere in New York. But combining road trips and amateur astronomy is a family tradition. Their family tradition. A tradition the Washington women created and enjoyed themselves; a tradition both Sage and Basil both love. Because the Washingtons are their family.
Sage lets out a low, trembling sigh, and clutches her jacket closer to her body.
Were, she reminds herself, maybe "were my family" is the better phrase to use here. Would still be, if she hadn't opened her big mouth on a visit to DC last week. While Kim stood outside her door, frozen in stunned silence.
The memory is humiliating enough now to make Sage train her eyes with unusual focus outside the car window. She doesn't want to see the worry in Basil's eyes, or the pleas to talk to her in Sloane's.
She isn't sure what she'll see in Kim's, because it's been hard maintaining eye contact with her ever since that moment in the doorway - but she knows for sure whatever warmth she'd seen there before must be long gone.
On the face of it, everything seems the same. After that awkward first day, Kim seemed eager to steer things back to normal. So normal, in fact, that it began to freak Sage out.
It wouldn't be the first time someone tried to talk like everything was okay, while their stares and body language said something else altogether. Damien's wariness. Khaan's clinical interest. Winona's transparent-as-glass attempts to look away from her shoulder. The brief flash of pain in President Thompson's eyes every time she saw Sage. And while there's been enough press releases and outreach designed to change public opinion on sentient andriods....the path to real transformation is slow. And hard. And sometimes downright exhausting.
Sage is tired. She doesn't want to have to go through conversations like that again. And to have Kim - the woman she considered mom even before they met - be the person she had that talk with...would practically break her.
Better to keep off that eventuality for as long as she possibly can.
"Sage, baby," Kim says, distractedly, eyes on the road. "Which song next? Come Fly With Me, Fly Me to The Moon or The Girl from Ipenama?"
Nervous, Sage bites her lip. Kim has never had this much trouble choosing Sinatra songs on a road trip before. Still, maybe guessing why Kim would want these tunes in particular would distract her. The first one probably for the travel vibes. The second fits the theme of their trip and Sage suspects Kim would put the third one on just to get her to translate the Spanish verses again.
"Come Fly With Me for now," she says, "I don't care if it's about going on a plane and reminds me how sick and tired we all got of airplane peanuts last year - it's still a travel song."
Kim's laughter is light like a summer breeze, as she fiddles with the radio. Sloane joins her, her voice so like her mother's that they sound like double echoes. Sage can see the swing of her new earrings as Sloane turns to look at them. Bright yellow hoops that contrast so perfectly with her purple blazer, the spiral-like curls at the edges intricate and made entirely of paper.
Sage feels a glow of pride, looking at the immaculate detailing. Kim had taken up quilling as a hobby only early this year, and already her craftwork could rival any seasoned professional.
"Wonder how Dipper's doing," Sloane murmurs, suddenly rummaging inside her bag for her phone, "maybe I should give Nadia and Steve a call?"
"In the lap of luxury, for sure," Basil says, smiling.
"That dog is so spoiled," Sage lets out an unladylike snort.
Kim looks too preoccupied with the road to say anything, but no more than two minutes later the song on the car radio changes. To a song that Sage is pretty damn sure isn't a regular one on their playlist. Mama Will Bark. With its humourous whimsy, terrible dog puns and periodic howling. Sage almost chokes on her own laugh.
Her eyes meet Kim's in the front view mirror for less than a second; so belief that she's convinced she has to have imagined that Kim winked at her.
--
Basil and Sloane give Sage her birthday gift at the Campgrounds, just before sunset. She gasps at the beauty she's just unwrapped - A GoPro Hero 35 Black camera kit; the Creator Edition Bundle, the kind that comes with a chest mount, a head mount, a tripod - the works. It's the kind of camera that would work like magic any time, any terrain, any weather. An adventure lover's dream.
"Wow..." she breathes, her chest tight, "Fucking wow."
Behind them, Kim clears her throat. Very audibly.
Spying from beneath her lashes, Sage spots a slight smile. "Oops," she says, not feeling very sorry at all. Secret jokester that she is, Kim likes to front like she cares about the group's collective tendency to cuss at the drop of a hat, but does such a poor job of it that it's become an inside joke among them all now.
Kim chuckles. "What say we all take a small walk after half an hour?"
The three of them nod, and stuff the wrapping paper and used tapes into a bag they've reserved just for garbage, to be thrown at the sanitary dump area before they leave the premises. Basil looks around the near-empty expanse of greenery, "We could go now if you want, Kim."
A small huff of laughter. "Not yet. The moon will be out any minute now. Go put that camera to good use and...moongaze, I guess...I'll just take care of a few things in the tent."
Soon enough, the harvest moon does come out - more swollen, more rounded, more golden than the full moon they're all used to. Its colouring takes on an almost ombre tone - a light gold at the top, melting into an almost red-orange hue towards the bottom. It feels so close you could be tempted to reach out and touch it.
It wasn't like they didn't know what to expect. Sloane told them. Showed them videos, pictures, all peppered with jargon they could barely understand. Explained the science so that by the time they came here they knew that, technically, this was an optical illusion caused by the moon's elliptical orbit. They knew what a perigee was. Enough documentary nights have passed between the three of them to make the moon sound like less of an object of magic and whimsy, and more a funny little rock that orbits the earth every 28 days.
But...but seeing it up there like this, up in a sky unmarred by smog and bright lights, where on any other night the Milky Way would be laid out across the sky like a carpet of stars. And so close, that you could make out - ever so faintly - the lattice work of the craters and the fine lines that connect them. Sage wonders at the sheer intimacy of this experience; of being here, watching this, with the two people who mean the world to her.
"Yknow what," she murmurs, rummaging through boxes and protective cases and quickly setting up the GoPro, "now would be a good time to try this baby out. Like, it is my birthday."
Basil grins. "I'm game," he says looking at Sloane, "have any ideas, babe?"
Sloane looks up, nose scrunched in deep thought. "Would silhouettes take too much time? The moon could shift position too soon if we don't time it right."
"Leave that to me," Sage says, smirking. "I'm the photographer here, remember?"
Sloane rolls her eyes in a way that reminds them eerily of Alana. "I built you from scratch a year ago, remember?"
"Touché," Sage chuckles as she gets to work. The setup isn't easy, and the fact that the moon could shift position anytime makes Sage's movements almost frenetic, but just as she is about to signal to Basil and Sloane to move together for a silhouette shot perfectly set up on the backdrop of a Harvest Moon, she sees Sloane approach her.
"You're the birthday girl," she says, panting, "You should get first dibs on a shot."
Sage giggles. "Trust you to spoil me as much as you do Dipper." She makes a few final adjustments, then turns to Sloane. "You know how to work this?"
"Sure I do. I looked up at least 8 - no, 9 - tutorials!"
She lets out a belly laugh, playfully punching Sloane in the shoulder. "Show off."
Sloane has only one instruction to Basil and Sage when they finally position themselves to her satisfaction. They're already in each other's arms; Sage winding hers behind his neck and fiddling idly with the mess of curls there, Basil flattening his palms against her waist, nuzzling her nose with his.
"Kiss already!" Sloane yells.
Basil grins. "As the lady wishes," Sage barely hears the words over the rush of sensation flooding her, as his mouth descends on her top lip. She smiles into the kiss, her hands already moving to fist themselves in his shirt.
Almost a year since they first met, since that first life-altering kiss outside his apartment door. So much has happened to them since then...but still. Her pulses still race like it's the first time all over again.
Sage takes a deep, shaky breath when their lips part, her forehead touching his, not fully ready to break contact yet. She caresses his back slowly as she lets go, and she knows that the biggest, goofiest, sappiest grin must be showing on her face right now.
She calls out to Sloane as she makes her way to where she's standing. "Your turn, space princess!"
Sage lines up her shot and stands back, noting with satisfaction that the moon looks suitably large - overwhelmingly so - and still very close to the horizon. Basil and Sloane's silhouettes stand out perfectly against the backdrop; Sloane cups his face with both hands as she usually does, her shoulders folding in on themselves as she allows herself to settle into their kiss. Sage knows it's always been this way between them; sharing physical space isn't easy for Sloane, and she needs a partner who will ease her in rather than rush her.
Sage doesn't know what that feels like - she needs an element of surprise, the thrill of brief, needy kisses in hidden hallways. She's always been the more tactile one - for her, touch is comfort. And somehow, inexplicably, Basil seems to understand both their ways of loving, and enjoy it. Love it, even.
Stop being sappy, Sage shakes her head, laughing, you're gonna take the best damn pictures of them they've ever seen, just wait.
The camera captures everything - Sloane standing on tiptoe to kiss Basil, one of his hands tenderly cradling the back of her neck and the other wrapped around her, the shape of their parted lips so heart-stoppingly close as they move away. Sage has taken so many that it will probably be harder to pick the best one from the lot.
They take more pictures by the moon (Kim pops by shortly after Sage's last shots of Basil and Sloane, telling them she'll take fifteen more minutes before joining them for their walk). Sloane and Sage forming the cheesiest-ever heart shapes with their arms, making Basil laugh so much they're sure his photos will come out a blurry, incoherent mess. Spotting a nightjar on a low branch, lining the shot up so its silhouette is caught in sharp contrast to the supermoon too.
Sage wants to take other, simpler pictures: just them sitting and talking, the moonlight casting a golden glow over their faces...but she can't. She won't. Without Kim, pictures like that would feel incomplete. No matter what problems they may have among themselves, no matter what Kim would think of her...Kim matters too much to be excluded from her most personal, most vulnerable photos of this night.
Almost as though summoned by Sage's thoughts, Kim appears. Her smile seems a little tired, and her right hand seems to curl loosely into itself. A fist, but not quite. She carries a flashlight with a red filter on her right hand, the ones they all bought two weeks ago to preserve their night vision. For the first time Sage looks back at her, and when she looks at Basil and Sloane a few seconds later there is something strange about their smiles that she can't exactly place.
They're ten minutes into their walk when Sage realizes that Basil and Sloane are far behind her and Kim, seeming to take their own sweet time to catch up.
Panicking, she turns to Kim, searching her face for a mirror of the confusion she feels. She finds none. Kim is instead taking deep breaths, putting her hands in her pockets and soaking in the fragrance of the dark cherry trees nearby. Like she isn't in any real hurry either.
An invisible fist seems to close around the center of her chest. Sage can hardly breathe.
"Sit with me for a bit, Sage." Kim's voice is warm, gentle, like the handmade quilt she'd made Sloane one Christmas, that now covers the three of them in their own bed. For the first time she doesn't trust the emotion she reads into it.
Sage doesn't give much thought these days to the inner workings of her own body. Whether she has heartbeats, what causes the fizzing sensation beneath her skin whenever she gets too nervous, how her blushing (which not many notice) isn't a result of too much blood rushing to a singular place but a mechanism set in motion by commands and code. But it's times like these - when her body feels too much, all at once - that she wishes she understood better how it all worked. That she wonders why the magnitude of what she's experiencing alone doesn't cause her body to shut down.
Right now, it's just one emotion - fear - and there's too much of it firing every synapse in this manmade (womanmade? Sloane created her, after all) body.
She feels Kim's eyes boring into her as they settle on the grass.
"Sage, honey. Did I do something wrong?"
For the first time in a week, Sage looks up at Kim and actually holds her gaze this time. Those weren't the words she was expecting to hear, nor is this soft, worrying look in her eyes the one she was expecting to see. She lets out a deep, shuddering breath.
"Thought you hated me," she presses her lips together, hating the way tears form a film over her eyes and blur her vision, hating her inability nowadays to pretend she was strong when she most needed it, "For lying. For not being human enough."
The force of Kim's sudden embrace feels as powerful as a gut punch. Sage gasps at how strong Kim's arms feel, wrapped around her shoulders, engulfing her so that Sage's face is buried in the space between neck and shoulder. She breathes in Kim's distinctive fragrance - fresh herbs and warm tea - and is hit by the sudden sharp memory of the phantom figure she rarely thinks about now. The mother who hugged her just like this when her first crush rejected her in front of the whole school. The mother Sloane programmed her to remember.
"Oh, honey," Kim whispers, hands rubbing down her back in a rhythm that Sage always associated with soft blankets and lullabies. "No. No. No. Never." Her voice is soft and hoarse, almost like she's trying to hold back tears. "I could never hate you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ever allowed you to think that."
Sage turns her head in the opposite direction towards the moonlit horizon, cheek still pressed against Kim's shoulder. It isn't Kim's fault, not really. She was trying to tell her nothing had changed. It was...it was just hard for her to believe.
She takes a few deep breaths, tries hard not to let her tears fall. They fall anyway.
When Kim speaks again, her voice is still soft, barely louder than a whisper. "I...I think I know where I got it wrong. That first day, wasn't it? Because I barely said anything."
Sage doesn't answer. There's too much she wants to say; none of it feels right for this conversation. Kim pauses for a beat, then speaks again.
"I think I wanted to take time to process. All those times I saw you crying about your mother, all those times the three of you would look at me...like there was something you needed to hide from me."
"Sorry," Sage says, giving Kim's arm an apologetic squeeze. "We were going to tell you at some point, I swear. I guess we just keep putting it off."
Kim places her hands on either side of Sage's face, raising it as if she wants to take a good look at her. Her eyes are moist too, and the pain she feels at making Kim sad twists inside her stomach like a knife. "Sloane told me you had no clue who you were until you saved Basil from a taser."
Sage nods. "I had all these memories. Huddling under a table with my mom during a storm. Getting jealous when my friends were hogging her attention," Kim chuckles a little at that one. Sage looks down before she whispers, "road trips with Sinatra on the radio..."
Kim's hands come to her shoulders now, as she shakes her head. "Sloane told me about that. All I could think of was what my poor Sage had been through. I felt like I needed to fully reevaluate everything I thought I knew about you with all that in mind. And when the time came to talk...I guess I didn't know how to actually talk about it."
Sage nods and looks away, finally understanding. Her brain is too much on overdrive to immediately respond, the words she doesn't hate me, she doesn't hate me, forming a tattoo in her head.
Kim speaks again. "I wanted to show you that it didn't matter to me...that's why I started speaking to you like before. Except...that backfired, didn't it?"
Sage sighs. Kim doesn't know about all the people who tried to pretend and then screwed up anyway, and Sage doesn't want her to know. "Maybe. But I don't know if I was ready to talk either," she says slowly, "And I can't blame you for taking a day to think."
Kim seems to search Sage's face for... something - Sage can't figure out what - before she moves away, raising her knees in front of her and winding her arms around them. There is a small, tight smile on her lips. "I guess you could say I was...processing."
For a few moments, Sage can do nothing but blink. Several times.
"Oh my God, Kim," once Sage gets it, she can't stop laughing, "that joke was terrible!"
The smile widens. "Sorry my load time took most of the day."
"No! Worse!"
Kim stares at her, all placid innocence. "Kim.exe has stopped working."
"Stop! Stop!" Sage almost punches her arm in her attempts to stop laughing, just like she did at Kim's jokes several weeks ago, and every golden, sunlit, wonderful week before that. "You're killing me here!"
Kim and Sage fall over each other, finding themselves in loop after loop of giggle fits. So much so that they forget what they were actually laughing about - they only have to look at each other before they start again.
When they're done clutching their stomachs and wiping tears from their eyes, Sage keeps her head on Kim's shoulder. Kim keeps her arm around Sage's. All the laughter is gone from Kim's voice now; it is low and measured, as if she's been practicing the words.
"It isn't fair."
Sage tenses. "What isn't?"
"That anyone would make you believe...that how you were built, should make you any less of a person."
Sage smiles wanly. It's as if all the stress and all the pain, all the fear of having to face hostility again, has leaked out of her - leaving her in a weird mix of exhaustion and bliss. She winds her arms around Kim's midsection, closing her eyes against the faint memory of doing this as a child, to a figure who feels more phantom than mother.
"I have my people," she says, "and before you ask - yes, you're one of them. I was just afraid I'd lose you."
Their arms tighten around each other. "Never," Kim says it like a vow, then tilts her head to where Basil and Sloane stand, holding hands and gazing at the harvest moon.
Sage grins, briefly dislodging herself from Momma Kim's embrace and calling out to them.
"Get here, you two! Stop pretending to moongaze or whatever. Kim and I patched up!"
"About time you did!" Basil calls back as they both make their way towards Kim and Sage.
Sage pretends to look annoyed. "We spent, like, a whopping ten minutes yapping here. The least you could've done was sneak in a good makeout sesh."
"Sage!" Sloane says, grinning and hiding her face in Basil's arm. "Not in front of mom!"
Kim laughs. "You two expect me to believe that? I've seen more than my fair share, Trudy!"
Seeing the four of them laugh together in a way they haven't all week, Sage's chest feels so full she can hardly bear it. They all stand together, switching between giggly banter about the rest of the group and gazing up at the golden moon again. They know it's the last time they'll see a supermoon this year.
Kim stops Sage just as they're all about to return to their tents, ready to settle for the night. Basil and Sage look at each other, smile, and go inside.
"C'mere," she says, taking something out of her pocket. Whatever it is, it's small enough to nestle in the palm of her hand. "In the middle of all that yapping I forgot to give you your birthday present, darling."
Sage lets out a soft gasp. In the brief but intense rollercoaster that was today she almost forgot she had a birthday to celebrate.
Kim opens her palm to reveal two large, gorgeous, teardrop shaped earrings - the quilling pattern on them so intricate it reminds Sage of arabesque designs. Even in the dark the colours dazzle: electric blue on the outside, sunset orange on the inside. The double-toned hues remind Sage so much of a fiery sunset, sinking into a deep blue sea.
"Happy birthday, honey," Kim whispers.
This work of art. One that must have taken blood, sweat, tears, paper strips, glue, tools. One that must have taken Momma Kim hours to get right.
Sage tries to swallow a lump in her throat, cursing herself for the fresh onset of tears. "For me?"
Kim lets out a laugh that borders on watery. "Anything for my girls." She steals a glance at their tent, "and boy, of course. Basil's getting a pendant. Don't tell."
She giggles; another implanted memory emerges as she holds out her little finger. This time it doesn't appear with the wave of bitterness that usually follows...this time, she holds that memory to her chest, with joy. And love.
She links her pinky with Kim's, laughing again as the older woman's eyes brighten. "Pinky promise."
--
They'd asked for a two-night stay when they'd made the bookings. Cherry Springs is an internationally-acclaimed Dark Sky Park, Sloane had explained back then, before slipping into what they all dub her personal "Guide to Understanding Astronomy Jargon for My Very Confused Boyfriend and Best Friend", That means a place that restricts artificial light so you can experience true darkness. The stars can never be clearer in the night sky than in a place like that! You just won't see as much of it when you have a big bright supermoon on the horizon.
Which is how they end up staying another night at Cherry Springs, soaking in the brilliance of the stars against a slowly waning moon, shrunk to its usual size. The three of them are huddled together beneath a quilt that Kim had knitted for Sloane, long before she had ever met Basil and Sage.
Kim herself has turned in for the night, early sleeper that she is. She'd kissed them all goodnight before leaving, and Sage couldn't resist tightening her arms around her so she could hold on to her warmth a minute more.
Sage marvels at how comfortably the three of them fit against each other right now: her head on Basil's shoulder, Sloane's lying sideways against his chest, her fingers idly playing with the smaller curls above Sage's neck, taking full advantage of the fact that she feels ticklish there. Sage squirms and buries her hushed laughter in Basil's arm.
Dangly, beautiful, handmade earrings - yellow and blue-orange - swing joyously against Sloane's and Sage's necks. Hugging the quilt tighter to herself, Sage begins to play with Sloane's lovely yellow hoops. Sloane returns the gesture, grinning cheekily, and Basil lets out a small huff of laughter.
They'll head home tomorrow - wind in their hair, the sun on their skin, singing New York, New York. Just as they did before they came here...but not at all the same. They will probably return louder. Happier. More one with each other than ever before.
She looks around at the two people with her, and the woman already sleeping in a tent inside. When she releases a breath, it comes out in a happy sigh.
My people, Sage thinks dreamily, as her eyes follow the long, winding, heaven-bound path of the Milky Way. My family.
--
Harvest moons refer to the final supermoon of the year, which usually shows up towards the end of September. It's called so because it coincides with the harvest season. This year it actually did happen on 29th Sept. Learn more about harvest moons here, and different kinds of supermoons here.
References for the quilled earrings Kim made for the girls:
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I HC that Sloane likes hoops, and this is the first design Kim masters. So the one on the left is Sloane's, and the blue-orange one on the right is Hayden's birthday present.
Currently the latest GoPro in the market is the Hero 12, but since this is set in the future I've given it a different number.
Faceclaims:
Sage Young - Lupita Nyong'o
Basil Park - Eric Mun
Sloane Washington - Nelly Muse
Kim Washington - Aunjanue Ellis
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Tagging @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW and (possibly) Bisexual Awareness Week
Tagging @choicesseptemberchallenge2023 for Day 4 - Moonlight, Moon (pls ignore if the entry is too late)
Tagging @choicesprompts for Flufftober, "Birthday Surprise".
Tagging @haydenyoungappreciationweek and @sazanes for Day 5: Happy Birthday Hayden!
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meraarts · 3 months
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Panting, covered in blood, clearly losing it, repeating the same phrase into the mirror: my writing is art, not content. my writing is art, not content. my writing is ART, NOT CONTENT
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one-time-i-dreamt · 3 months
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I logged onto Ao3 and there was a new content warning tag just called “werewolf” (the devs supposedly had a newfound fear of them).
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finsplurtz · 3 months
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all mine — sukuna ryōmen
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— dom ! male.reader x sub ! Sukuna Ryōmen
— Contents: sub top male reader x dom bottom Sukuna , OOC sukuna , A bit of x Yuji , madd overstimulation , could contain r4pe , power bottom Sukuna , degrading , crying , a bit of a breeding kink in there , Yuji is aged up……
Warnings : non con possibly, crying
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✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮
Itadori was panting while his body twitched. He was straddling yn, he was fully stuffed with his cock. Cum on yn’s stomach, and some dripping out of his ass.
yn was lazy and tired, he lied on the bed staring at the ceiling just massaging his boyfriend’s thighs.
“..ngh…” A small noise caught his attention. He looked at Ita’ who was slightly out of it.
“….you okay, hon..?” He asked bringing his hand to caress his boyfriend’s face.
Itadori hiccuped before nodding and slowly lying his body over his boyfriends chest.
Yn was slightly concerned but tried not to question him too much…he ran his fingers thru Yuji’s hair closing his eyes hoping to fall asleep.
He felt Yuji lift his ass slowly and sink back down with more cum pooling out. Yn quirked an eyebrow. He already felt a bit overstimulated so he hoped Yuji wouldn’t want to go again..
“Yuji…” yn whispered and groaned. He swallowed when he felt his cute boyfriend begin to kiss and suck at his neck.
Yn let out small moans grabbing a handful of Yuji’s hair to gently pull him off.
“Yuj—“ He froze when he made eye contact with the devil himself.
“..S-sukuna..?” The tatted guy sat up straight with a slight moan.
“..Impressive.” Sukuna smirked looked down at the small bulge in his stomach. Yn blushed looking away. He kept his hands off yuji’s body.
“We’ll see how much more you can handle, yeah? Now that I have you all to myself while Yuji’s passed out…I can use my time wisely.” He lifted himself and slammed himself hack down harshly laughing when yn let out a pathetic whimper.
“SUKUNA- my..dick..” he whined gripping the sheets.
The curse ignored yn’s protests and continued to fuck himself on him. After a bit the pleasure hit him as well as the overstim since Yuji had already came.
Yn was high off sex, his eyes looking everywhere but at this fckin weirdo
“Hah…~ look at you ynnn-yy ..already fucked out aren’t you..mm..~” Sukuna ran his sharp nails over yn’s bare chest making him twitch and whine.
“Ita must be lucky..getting to see this whenever he wants. Soon as I get my freedom…you’re all mine….” Sukuna laughed once more bouncing on yn’s dick again.
“Shit- Yuji’s stupid b..body is so..ugh..~” Sukuna placed his hands on yn’s abdomen struggling to lift himself with his shaky thighs.
Yn was practically drooling as his dick twitched inside the ‘King of curses’.
“Hm..~? Really hope Yuji’s awake..need him to see this fucjing beauty..!” He grabbed yn’s jaw and forced him to look Sukuna in the eyes.
‘Kuna rolled his eyes and did his best to continue overstimulating the younger male. Pulling the whiniest sluttiest whimpers and cries from this man. He thought sukuna couldn’t tell but, yn was stopping himself from placing his hands on the smaller body.
“S-scared to touch me..~? Or afraid of what Yuji might s-say..” Sukuna smirked intertwining his fingers with yn’s finding his own g spot.
Sukuna’s tongue lolled out and he let out a whorish moan fucking himself faster and sloppier.
“Shhhitt..~ you feel so fuckin’ good…so big..I want your babies in me..!” Sukuna bit yn’s lip who shook violently inside his boyfriend and hissed at the small sting on his lip.
“Wa-wanna breed me…~? I bet Yuji would fuckin’ loveeee our b-babies..” Sukunas nails dug deeper into yn’s shoulder blades making him wince.
“Cmon..give me your children.” Sukuna sat up straight and grabbed yn’s hands, placing them on his hips, he shuffled on his dick.
“Fuck me..~?” Sukuna said in a low voice. Yn whined and began to fuck Sukuna at his best abilities.
Sukuna smirked watching the guy crumble beneath him. He was so weak, so sensitive..he couldn’t bear the sensation.
He pulled at yn’s wrist sitting him up and l putting both his hands on his leaking cock.
“Look at you…all fucked up~” Sukuna laughed and grinded his hips into yn’s hand as well as massaging his prostate with his dick.
“You’re all mine…just a little mess..my messy big dicked bitch..~!” He moaned pressing yn’s hands tighter around his smaller dick.
“..right, yn..~?” With one of his clawed hands he grabbed at the guys jaw and looked into his eyes.
“All…mine..~” Sukuna whispered gracing his lips against yn’s, pulling him into a hot make out session. Yn was practically drooling letting his tongue roam Sukuna mouth, maybe the amount of stimulation was making him all the more horny…
He thrusted his hips trying to cum one more time having Sukuna moan into his mouth.
“Mmph..~ Gunna c-come…” yn whined looking into Sukuna’s red eyes.
“Yeah..? Cmon big guy..come deeppp inside me….~” Sukuna’s dick twitched as he was also close.
A couple more thrust and yn came with a loud sob, his body trembled, he hid his face in the crook of Sukuna’s neck, panting like a dog.
Cum spilled from Sukuna’s cock while he moaned at the feeling of the other’s cum filling him up. He loved it so much, the feeling of an orgasm was now stuck in his mind.
“You’re all mine…right, love..?” Sukuna whispered into yn’s ear who mumbled incoherent noises and kissed his neck.
Sukuna grinned and wrapped his arms around yn’s neck.
.
.
He heard a small sniffle come from Sukuna and pulled away to see Yuji looking down at him with teary eyes.
Yn caressed his face and kissed him passionately.
“..I’m yours, Yuji..” He said looking into Yuji’s beautiful eyes before smiling and laying down on the bed spooning the smaller.
“Only yours…” He whispered while Yuji held onto him tighter.
Secretly Yuji really liked seeing yn go all submissive and whiny for him. He just imagined it was because of him and not Sukuna.
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a/n: Sukuna typa guy to switch with Yuji while he’s having sex w/ yn to scare him…
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fortheloveofleon · 10 months
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BABY FEVER
⊱ Pairing: Yandere!Miguel x Reader
⊱ Summary: Miguel misses the joys of being a father. He just wants you to understand the happiness a child can bring — even if he has to make you…
⊱ Contents: 18+, Yandere!Miguel, Mean!Miguel, Dark Content, Baby Trapping, Dubious Consent, Smut, BDSM (Bondage), Rough Sex, Choking, Breeding Kink, Blood Kink, Creampie, Slight Hint to a Mommy Kink At The End
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You’re laid up on this lavish bed, sore hands clasped above your head in a pair of metal handcuffs. The tough material is etching into your skin, chafing and nipping each time Miguel thrusts into you.
“‘Guel,” you slur out his name, a shuddery breath escaping as he grinds into you harder, “s’ too much, I-I’m sorry.”
An angry mess towering over you, Miguel scowls at your pathetic begging. Silent but seething, the taller man merely runs his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair, panting as he reaches down to grasp your face with his large hand.
Eyes locking with yours, Miguel draws his slick-stained cock all the way out of your tight cunt, just until his tip remains — then he pushes back in, hard and fast, earning a loud cry from you.
The mix of hurt and pleasure is a dangerous one, a welcomed warning that hums through your body as his speed of his thrusts pick up again.
Miguel doesn’t really care that he might be hurting you right now — quite frankly, he’s hoping you were in a bit of pain.
You deserved it.
You were such a slut, throwing yourself at all the other guys at Headquarters. He should’ve known better than to let other men get that close to you.
But of course — Miguel was insane, and delusional.
You had nothing done nothing of the sort, but only made the innocent mistake at smiling. A mere smile at Peter whilst playing with Mayday was enough to drive Miguel to this state.
He’s always been protective, obsessive, Miguel can’t even deny it.
“Ungrateful. Fucking. Whore,” he hisses, each word enunciated with a heavy surge of his hips — white fangs are bared as he leans in closer to you, breathing out a laugh at your dazed form. Tough hands find a home around your neck, clutching.
The grip is a reminder, a threat of what could always happen.
But it’s for your own good. How could a sweet girl like you survive in a big, bad world like this without him?
Your fingers grasp helplessly at his forearms as black dots speckle your vision. Eyes rolling back into your head, hiccuped moans pulse from you as his shaft slams in and out of you.
“I’m…” you choke out as a familiar syrupy warmth begins to tremor from your lower half, “I-I’m gonna…”
Your sentence is incomplete, stuttering to a close, yet it’s whole to Miguel — he knows what you need. You’re merely a finger stroke away from cumming your fucking brains out.
Miguel latches his mouth onto the side of your bruising neck, sharpness pinching your skin when he finally bites down. A sickening blend of pain and euphoria surges through you.
It’s like you hit Cloud Nine — you’re panting, whimpering, back arching and cunt clenching as your orgasm builds and breaks. Sweet, sweet ecstasy fills every ounce of you, and you can feel it so hard, it’s like you’re choking more from the pleasure than his palms.
A tangy metallic taste coats Miguel’s tongue and he can’t help but moan out with you at the taste. “Ha…mi corazón…”
A throaty chuckle vibrates against your skin as Miguel suckles at the bleeding marks, lips leading to press wet kisses. His thrusts have grown sloppy, greedy as he wants to find his own end.
The length of his cock is barely leaving your cunt, hips rolling rapidly with little rhythm as he grunts and groans.
All he wants is you.
The feeling of his body on yours snaps you of your daze as a daunting realisation comes to mind.
“Wait!” you rasp out, jiggling the cuffs above your head. “Guel, y-you need to pull out.”
Chest heaving, Miguel pauses, cock still buried deep inside you. Posted above, caging you in between his forearms, wordlessly questioning you.
“You’re not…you’re not wearing a condom,” you breathe out quietly, carefully. “You need to pull out.”
Miguel is silent, staring.
His fingers slowly brush away the damp hairs sticking to your face, rubbing his thumb over your plump lips, almost like he’s trying to remember it’s shape through touch alone.
If love had a taste, he thinks, it would be your mouth.
He kisses you, soft and gentle, and you can’t help but melt. Pulling away, Miguel cups your jaw. A ghost of a smile lingers, but refuses to show.
Sometimes, Miguel tries to consider the lengths of his obsession with you — where it stemmed from, how it started. He could never find a straight answer. But there was one undeniable truth.
Miguel is irrevocably in love with you.
He’d only accept death if you were the one holding that knife.
Miguel is in love. But he can’t say it. The last time he showed he was capable of loving something, the universe took it from him.
But he didn’t need to say anything… he could show you.
His voice is low as he shakes his head and speaks, eyes boring into yours. “You, are going to make a great mother.”
And God, the way your eyes widened could’ve killed him right there.
Without warning, he drives into your heat faster than ever, frantic and filled with a purpose once more.
“Miguel, please wait!” you whimper out.
The headboard bangs and creaks, slamming against the wall as fucks you faster than before. Every nerve of yours is aflame, overstimulated from the wave of your orgasm. Your mouth is agape, eyes tearing and Miguel only looks down with hooded eyes, smirking before a chuckle breaks from his throat.
“You’re mine,” he hisses out, hands groping your hips, plunging his cock deeper.
Miguel’s laughter mixes into a moan, soft but spiteful, filling and fucking you until he slams into you one final time, choked groans unravelling as he finally spills into you.
You twitch beneath him in that moment, legs shaking. He shifts, steadying himself so he doesn’t crush you beneath his weight. A few silent seconds pass, filled only with the sounds of your heavy breathing.
Like a cat, Miguel nuzzles into your neck, nipping at your skin before unclasping the cuffs, throwing the metal away. Heavy arms snake around your body, holding you captive once more. He kisses your neck.
“So,” he breathes out, “did I make you feel good…mommy?”
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badbtssmut · 4 months
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Sticky Fingers | Maknae Line
When you shoplift at the store and get caught by the manager, a punishment awaits you in the backroom.
Contains: Reader is being sexually punished for stealing, reader gets fucked in various positions, some degrading, rough sex, overstimulation, powerplay, noncon and dubcon elements, vibrator used, cum in face, upside down fucking
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Jungkook
“Good, don’t stop sucking until I tell you to stop.” The man ordered, hovering over you, watching you suck his cock. “Should’ve tried stealing from a different shop, might’ve gotten away with it. Dumb little thief.”
You were on your knees in a back room at a store you had just tried to steal from. You had been caught by the owner and dragged into the room. He told you that he was going to call the cops and you panicked, begging him not to. He seemed like he was going to relent but then he said there had to be some form of punishment and that was when he pulled out his cock and demanded that you suck it.
Jungkook groaned. “Keep going.”
You did as he ordered, not that you had much of a choice. You couldn’t afford to have a criminal record and the man had made it clear that if you refused he would call the cops immediately. So you kept sucking his cock, bobbing your head up and down his shaft.
Jungkook pulled away and pulled you up by the arm. He pulled you over to a desk in the corner and placed you on it. He flipped your skirt up and then tugged your panties down.
You hadn’t even realized you were aroused. But the thrill of being caught combined with the fact that you were actually a bit of a slut was enough to turn you on. Your pussy was soaking wet and Jungkook wasted no time lining up and pushing into you.
“A-ah!” You gasped as he pushed all the way into you.
He started thrusting in and out of you, his fingers digging into your hips, using them to pull you back against him, pushing deeper into you.
You gripped the edges of the desk and held on as he fucked you. The wood was uncomfortable but you didn’t dare to speak up.
The door to the room was unlocked, but thankfully no one was out front, otherwise they would hear the sound of his thighs slapping against his thighs, the desk creaking, and the moans and whimpers coming from your lips.
Your pussy felt so full, stuffed with his thick cock. It was throbbing and dripping, clenching around him.
“Sir, I’m sorry…” You whined as he picked up the pace.
”No you’re not.” Jungkook pulled out and flipped you over, the room temporarily spinning.
Jungkook pushed in and started fucking you from behind, the new angle causing him to hit a new spot deep inside of you, a place no other guy had ever managed to reach.
It was overwhelming and you were sure your orgasm was going to come any moment now.
You gasped as the pleasure became too much and you came around his cock, your whole body shaking.
“Not done with you yet, you think just because you had a slutty orgasm, that I’d let you go? That I wouldn't get to fill your slutty cunt with my cum? You think wrong. Your punishment isn't over yet, not until you're stuffed full of cum. You don't want anyone to know that you're a criminal, do you?” He mocked, slapping your ass.
He didn’t stop thrusting, didn't stop pounding into your sensitive hole.
And like that, he kept fucking you until he filled you with his cum.
Taehyung
“Ah!” You cried out as you tried to move away, but you were firmly pulled back by the manager.
“What? You want to steal but not deal with the consequences?” His arm locked in place around your waist as his other pushed the vibrator inside further into your pussy.
You had stolen some items from his store, which led to him catching you in the act. After begging and pleading with him, the manager agreed to not call the cops if you were punished. You weren’t expecting him to demand you suck his cock, but that had only been the start. Now he had you on his lap with your legs spread open and the toy vibrating inside of your pussy.
“Sir, please, I won’t do it again…I swear. Just let me go, please, I promise, I won’t steal anything from your store again. I won't ever come back, I'll even give you back everything I stole…” You whimpered.
Taehyung took the dildo out of you. You felt relieved for a second before you were pulled off his lap and turned around so you were facing him.
He looked you in the eyes as he pushed his cock into you, his gaze unwavering.
“O-oh!” You whimpered, feeling his cock slide into you, your body easily accepting him, your cunt practically sucking him in.
Once he was completely inside of you, the manager started to move. His hips moving quickly, thrusting up into you.
It was a completely different sensation than the toy. It wasn't like anything you had experienced before. He was able to push deep inside of you, and he wasn't holding back.
His movements were almost frantic, a sense of urgency behind each movement.
“You make a better whore than a shoplifter.” Taehyung chuckled. “I'll be taking this as payment for what you've stolen. You owe me. Now, ride me.”
You nodded obediently. You lifted yourself up and began to bounce, the pleasure growing. You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you, his hands gripping your hips, guiding you.
Taehyung leaned back, watching you, a smirk on his face. “Shit, I’m going to fill up that tight pussy. And you're going to take every last drop, aren't you, my little thief?” He mocked.
You could only moan in response.
Taehyung started to buck his hips, matching your rhythm. You could feel your own orgasm approaching, your cunt getting tighter around him.
Your legs started to shake, and you could feel the heat building up in your core, the pleasure building, growing stronger, and Taehyung took over, pounding upwards into you. You cried out as you came around him, your juices dripping out of your cunt and down onto him.
You felt a gush of warmth, the feeling of him filling you up, and he moaned, his eyes falling closed.
“Mm, good girl.” He opened his eyes and looked at you, pushing you off his lap. “Get out of here before I change my mind and decide to call the cops.”
Jimin
“You really thought you could stuff your bag and get away with it? Do you take me for some idiot?” The manager mocked as he bounced you on his cock.
“No… no, sir!” Fuck, you were going to pass out. This man was fucking you just right, you had practically turned into jelly in his arms. Jimin had lifted you off the floor and now he was fucking you mid air, bouncing you on his cock as he stood in the middle of his office.
You had been caught stealing from the shop he worked at and he decided he was going to teach you a lesson. He had ripped your leggings down your thighs and was now plunging his cock in and out of your pussy with an incredible pace. You moaned, clinging to his shoulders for support. You felt so lightheaded.
Jimin looked you up and down, your body limp, a look of pure bliss on your face. He smirked, continuing to fuck you hard. You were such a slut.
You cried out when you felt the pleasure build up, reaching your limit, but just as you were about to cum, Jimin switched positions. He lowered you down, your body upside down, legs hanging in the air. The back of your head and shoulders touched the floor as he held you by the hips, before he started pounding into you again. You cried out. You were so fucking sensitive and he was hitting all the right spots, it was driving you insane.
Jimin was relentless, watching as your body tensed and your face scrunched up. He gripped onto your thighs as he continued to thrust downward, deep into your pussy.
You came, and it was like a million fireworks going off in your head. Your whole body buzzed, and the room began to spin. You felt your legs begin to go numb as your body twitched. Your pussy squeezed around his cock, causing him to moan.
Jimin kept fucking you, even after you came, causing you to moan and squirm. Your legs kicked around, trying to escape the overwhelming pleasure, but the manager was holding them down, keeping them spread.
He grunted, feeling his cock twitch. He was close. He fucked you hard, making sure you felt every inch of his dick. You were practically drooling. You were completely dazed.
With one final thrust, he pushed his cock deep into your pussy, unloading his hot cum. You could feel it filling you up, and it made you shudder. You came again.
You whimpered when you felt his cock slip out of you. Your lower body dropped to the floor as he let go of your legs, causing them to land with a thud. You winced.
Jimin stood above you, watching you catch your breath. “Suck me off and we won't have any more problems, got it, thief?” He said.
You nodded slowly, still coming down from the high.
He smirked, leaning down, grabbing a fist full of your hair and pulling you up. You took his cock and started to suck him off, Jimin bobbed you head back and forth, fucking your mouth.
Jimin groaned as his cock hit the back of your throat, feeling your tongue slide against the shaft. He threw his head back, letting out a few moans.
After a while, you were getting tired, but the manager wasn't done with you yet. He didn’t stop until he was satisfied, and when he finally was, he pulled his cock out. “Fuck!” He cussed, jerking himself off until his hot cum splattered onto your face.
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auspicioustidings · 6 months
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Savage
Summary: Request for some Scottish warrior Soap taking an English maiden as a prize.
Words: 3.7k
CWs: Violent non-con (I am so serious, do not ready this if it's not your thing), hardcore smut
Authors Note: This is very much a rape fantasy. Traditionally rape fantasies have historical grounding in minorities who felt ashamed of their own desires so had to fantasise a situation in which they were blameless for engaging in a stigmatised action because it was forced. It’s sort of where a lot of the noncon trope in bodice rippers comes from because women in unhappy marriages need a fantasy in which they can get rid of the shame for wanting passionate or rough sex because they imagine they fought against it. A lot more people have rape fantasies than people generally realise and truly a miniscule barely there number of them would ever think it was ok to actually assault someone. All that to say, this is not me condoning anything in real life. If you find fantasies like this don’t do it for you, then do not read it, but don’t then shame people who do. There is psychology behind why people fantasise about these things, it’s pretty normal and you don’t need to be worried that it is some moral failing. Mind your business.
It was a miraculously good match for you, a high ranking soldier of the King’s army. You were technically of noble blood, but just barely. You lived simply, not in a large house but in a small village where you held no sway over anyone else and were treated as common. But the village was close to the border between England and Scotland and every day it became more tense as whispers of raids from villages to the West skittered between houses like rats.
You didn’t know how your uncle had made arrangements for this beneficial marriage for you, but it would get you moving South in a few days time to marry and then you would finally be able to relax with this war much further away from you. You had heard horror stories of what happened to young maidens when savages came pillaging. They said that they didn’t wear anything under those kilts, they said it was to make it easy to bury their cocks in any hot hole they could find. They said they didn’t have any tame qualities, not like the English. Scottish men were feral, the comparison to dogs not holding water because at least dogs could be trained. 
When you retreated to bed you got on your knees to say your prayers. As always you had to beg forgiveness for the licentious thoughts that sent thrills straight to your cunt whenever you thought about the images all those rumours put in your head.
The noise of chaos woke you in a panic, heart hammering against your ribcage as the smell of smoke drifted on the air and war cries sounded. You recognised your own kinfolk of course, the battalion of soldiers stationed here to keep eyes on the border. But it was the cries of those animals from the country to the North that sent you scrambling out of bed in only your chemise, knowing you had to run and hide before they could see you.
You slipped out of the bedroom, a frightened little rabbit looking for a burrow to hop into. The smell of smoke was stronger in the main room and you could see the orange glow of flames through the window. Going outside would be a risk, but hiding in here may get you burned to a crisp should this building be lit up. You did not have time to make the decision as the door burst off of its hinges, a muscular man in a blood spattered kilt with a warrior's mohawk and wild eyes panting like a dog as he caught sight of you.
You were frozen, unable to even breathe. And then after a beat his mouth stretched into a horrid manic grin as he bounded towards you. That finally shifted you from freeze to flight as you scrambled back through to the bedroom, trying to get to the small window. You threw the top half of your body through the gap but his rough hands grabbed your naked ankles and yanked you back, hard. You felt the chemise catch on the window frame, the fabric bunching up to completely expose you to him before he let go of your ankles letting you crash to the ground. 
Your knees throbbed from the hard floor and by the time you were trying to crawl away he had his hand in your hair, brutally pulling your head up and craning it to look at him leaning over and getting into your face.
“Hear I have a wee noble bitch on my hands.”
Of course he would know. There were families here who would tell them anything to save themselves and pointing them in the direction of a noble maiden, one who was betrothed to an English soldier at that, would certainly be information that could spare them. The shouts outside sounded more heavily weighted towards those in his own gruff and growling accent now. The English soldiers were losing.
“I-I don’t know what you are talking about ser” you cried gently, not knowing how else to save yourself. 
“Bonnie words” he growled, pulling so sharply at your hair that you thought your scalp might be bleeding and using his other hand to grope meanly at one of your breasts through the rough fabric of your nightwear.
You cried out, feeling the tears immediately spill over and stream down your face. He was so strong, you could barely budge against his hold, and he reeked of blood and fire and sweat and hot arousal. You squeezed your eyes shut and he only growled at you.
“Ye’ll keep those eyes open, yer going tae watch yer wee English cunt take me like a whore or I’ll take yer tight arse instead.”
You choked on a sob and opened your eyes, seeing that his were full of sick glee and heat. The hand groping at your tits moved under the chemise to cup roughly at your sex and he pulled you to your feet by that hand. You screamed at how it felt as he abused you with his hand, grinding the heel against you. You felt a hot flood of bitter shame as he swiped a finger violently through your folds. What he found there made him pause for a moment, his face lighting up in unrestrained glee.
“Fucking English slut. Y’er dripping.”
You had heard women who said it would be better to be wet if they were to be taken against their will. You did not agree. Him knowing that your traitorous body found his rough abuse of it arousing was so humiliating you felt you would rather die. He was so oppressive in his demeanour, so big and aggressive above you that you imagined he may break your bed with what he was about to do to you. How foolish of you to think he would have that level of mercy.
“Going tae show all those bastards how their women take Scottish cock” he laughed, spearing two fingers inside you to their full length with no softness at all and pulling you by them.
You could not breathe. You had never had anything inside you and those two fat fingers felt like they were stretching you so much you would tear. He walked backwards so he could keep them firmly inside you and you stumbled pathetically after him, needing to keep as close to him as possible to stop the painful press against your walls that came from him pulling if you did not move. 
The shame was overwhelming as you emerged, full of his fingers and stumbling after him with tears streaming down your face, to find that your country's soldiers had been defeated with the survivors on their knees, hands bound. You were being paraded in front of them you realised, they had been put right here in the town square so they could bear witness, the Scottish soldiers standing behind them feral and full of lust as they took in their leader pulling you in front of them by the cunt. 
When he ripped his fingers out of you, your knees buckled and a high whine left you. You had went from feeling too full to feeling far, far too empty. You could barely hear anything but the blood rushing through you as your heart hammered. That and him as he taunted the soldiers on their knees. 
“Our women would ne’er let ye touch them, they’d die first. Yer clean wee English princess on the ither hand?” he said, planting a booted foot to your chest and pushing until he had you pinned on your back underfoot, “she’s gagging fir it. Foaming at the gusset tae take strong Scottish cock, put a real warrior in her belly.”
His own men cheered at that and you watched on with horror as he cocked his head at one of them and he began to approach you. 
“Naw a monster though am I my wee slut? Ye’d be wet enough fir one of their small English cocks nae doubt, but fir mine? Going tae need something to help me sink in good and deep.”
The other soldier went to his knees between your legs and you watched as he pulled his throbbing cock from under his kilt, jerking it violently. You tried to move away, his cock so close you could feel the heat of it between your legs, but the boot on your chest held you still. When you tried to close your legs the man touching himself used his other hand to wrench one of your knees until it was touching the ground, using his own knees between your thighs to help him keep your glistening cunt fully on display.
When the head of his cock stroked through your folks, slicking you with his pre-cum and bumping at your clit, you were so overwhelmed that you didn’t quite manage to bite back your moan. They laughed meanly at you as the man found his release, spurting hot cum all over your pussy, smacking his cock against your stomach when he was done to shake off the last drops.
It was filthy, you felt sticky and like you were on fire. The next soldier took his place and spat right on your already disgusting cunt as he began to stroke himself. By the time he had painted you with his seed and the third was started, the man above pressed his foot harder to get your attention and all you could do was stare up into his taunting eyes, trying to focus on him so you could not think of what was going on between your legs. You cried up at him, trying to find any level of sympathy in him.
“Keep crying and I’ll gie ye something tae cry about princess.”
Oh you hated him calling you that when you were pinned down in the dirt, defeated soldiers of your country watching as their enemies smeared their cum all over your exposed body. Watching as they made a sloppy mess out of you in preparation for their leader to shove his cock deep inside and pump you full of his savage children.
You did not know how long you stared up at him, not able to look away as you felt the heat of his men on your body, your own body getting hotter and hotter with each slide of velvety throbbing skin against your own. He had started to talk to you, his eyes not budging. It wasn’t the defeated soldiers he was taunting, it was you, ruined and disgraced under his boot.
“See how good I am tae ye little whore? Letting my men make ye flush wi pleasure. Don’t deny it, think I cannae see yer face whenever ye feel a cock on that wee untouched pussy? Like a fucking bitch in heat. I’ll fuck ye like one. Get ye on yer hands and knees so ye can look yer precious King’s soldiers in the eye when ye fall apart on my cock. When ye’r fucking begging for my cum. Wilnae even have tae dae any work, ye’ll be fucking yourself back on me ye needy slut.”
You shook your head in horror at his claims, the true fear being that he would make them true. Already you felt in a daze, felt empty and desperate. But you felt fear as well as he put his arm under his kilt, rucking the fabric up to grab at his cock. It was huge and you found yourself panicked and squirming as the last of his soldiers grunted and slapped the meat of your thigh to get you to stay still. You were rambling incoherently as the man above stroked slowly at himself, causing that thick weapon between his legs to throb and seem even bigger. 
“It won’t fit, it’s not going to fit, please I’ll die, you’ll split me open. It’s so big no no I can’t, I can’t!”
You didn’t even feel the last of his soldier’s loads splatter onto you, didn’t notice when his hands left your flesh. You would have rapidly purpling skin in the shape of fingerprints all over your thighs from how you had been held still by all of them, but you could not feel the dull pain of it through your fear of what was to come.
“Ye’ll take whit I gie ye and ye’ll fucking thank me princess.”
He removed his foot and it was only then you realised that he had been pressing down hard enough that your breaths had been shallow. The rush of oxygen from being able to fully expand your lungs again made you horribly dizzy, but it also flooded right down to your clit and made your body jerk violently with the sensation. 
He didn’t take his hand from his cock and he bent so he could use the other to grab your ruined hair again, yanking your head up and shoving himself into your mouth. You choked, legs scrambling to get underneath you to give you some stability with which to batter your fists against his thighs, trying to pull away. He laughed meanly at your attempts, moving the hand that was touching himself to join the one tangled in your hair on the back of your head and pulling your head at the same time as he thrust forward, settling himself fully in your throat. 
You were gagging around him, tears really streaming down your face now as you begged him with your eyes to let you breathe. He held you there, his own eyes glittering with satisfaction, until your muscles started to give in and you felt your eyes dropping closed as your brain became cottony. Then all at once he pulled you off and you were gulping in oxygen around your coughing and sputtering, the rush much more intense this time. 
He held your head tilted up at him so he could watch your face as he shoved his boot between your legs and got you over the edge. Oh weren’t you a delicious little thing for him, getting off so hard on how he used you, moaning shakily and wantonly in the dirt beneath him in front of his triumphant soldiers and your defeated ones. 
“Good fucking girl” he growled with a feral grin, letting you ride it out with little aborted thrusts on his boot, unable to control your body. 
You looked gone, eyes glazed and body slack. Couldn’t have that, he needed you screaming for him. He needed your blood fighting between being frozen with terror and boiling with need. And he needed you full of him, needed to be able to feel his own cock through your stomach so fucking clearly that he could jerk it. 
You were thrown forward, top half of your body collapsing pathetically into the dirt right where it was covered in the sweat and cum of his soldiers. He manhandled your hips up, leaving your face crushed into the dirt and your ass up high for him, cunt presented. You felt his hot breath at your ear and it was a sudden shock when you realised he was growling lowly into your ear, his words for you and you only.
“S’going tae hurt, yer going tae scream yerself hoarse for me and then I’ll get ye tae milk me when I rip pleasure out of all that pain. Will treat ye right after little princess, like one of my good Scottish lassies, but right now ye’r my fucking English whore.”
The confusing mix of sentiments cleared some of the fuzziness from your mind but you had no time to dwell. He was right, it did hurt and you did scream yourself hoarse. He had lined himself up and plunged into you, cock coated and slick from the cum of his soldiers but no less huge inside your tight virgin pussy. He had split you in two, you were sure of it. His cock must have broken through you, was sitting in your ribcage and punching all the air from your lungs.
You blacked out for a moment, coming right back to when he pulled out to fuck brutally back into you again, slapping your ass so hard that you felt the sting all the way up to your fingertips and making you choke on the sob that fought through the screaming. He ripped at your hair, making you look at the defeated soldiers on their knees. Making you watch their own cocks swell at your treatment. Your utter ruination was making them hard. Your head being wrenched back meant you had to go to your hands as he pounded you, and you saw how they looked as one of your breasts was fucked right out of the chemise, bouncing lewdly for them to see with every hard thrust.
The humiliation had you digging into the dirt like you had claws, feeling the bite of the earth pushing under your nails. It sparked something in your brain, almost like you could see them sharpen. Like you could feel your shoulder blades become more pronounced, become something sinewy and sleek and animal. He was fucking you like a predator and you were drooling and howling and panting like his prey, back bowed as he pulled your hair harder and had to staring at the sky babbling prayers into the night air. 
“S’too much, can’t, I can’t. Full, too full.”
“Ye fucking can. Yer tight fucking cunts trying tae strangle me, wants my cum so bad naw? Perfect English pussy, so slutty and needy for a real cock” he growled, hand letting go of your hair and smacking your ass right over where he had before, causing you to howl at the pain. 
The pain and something else, something that had no place here and yet had been lingering from the moment he had caught you. Something that had been getting closer and brighter and more insistent with every abuse you were subject to. Something that he invited in when your arms collapsed beneath you without him holding your heads weight anymore and he ground your face into the ground before bringing his hand to your clit and pinching. 
Your scream was raw and hoarse, throat well past being able to produce a clear sound. The orgasm was blinding and every bone felt like it had liquified. You saw white and then you saw hardly anything, only vague shapes and colours. The only thing now was how his cock filled you. The shame was gone, replaced with the truth that you loved this. You loved how he used you like this, how he violated you in front of these soldiers just because he could.
“That’s it princess, fucking take it” he hissed, stopping his thrusts and letting you do all the work.
You didn’t even realise now how you wildly fucked yourself back on his cock trying to chase the pain of overstimulation, addicted to the way it made you feel some sick hazy pleasure. You were drooling onto the dirt, tasting the earth mixed with cum and finding the disgust of it only felt right now. When his hand came to your stomach and pushed to feel himself bulging there you came again, harder, babbling thank yous to him.
He bit out a string of curses above you as your pussy squeezed so hard it was forcing him out, but he was strong as he forced himself balls deep and held there, finding his release as you milked everything out of him and into your womb. The liquid heat of it was the last thing you felt as you passed out, blissed and fucked out of your mind. 
John MacTavish allowed himself a moment to lean his body against your back, inhaling the scent of sweat and dirt and cum and fear and lust from your limp body. So good for him, took it perfectly. He hissed when he finally pulled out, resisting the temptation to just keep going beyond what would feel good because fuck, being inside you had been a religious experience. 
He was nothing if not a man of his word though, and he scooped your body gently into his arms to get you onto a horse and ready for him to take over the border where he could give you that princess treatment he had promised. The surviving soldiers they would leave beaten and bloodied but not dead. After all, someone had to tell your betrothed all the details.
-
“Fucking MacTavish” he hissed after excusing the man who had given the report.
He had made him give it in full detail, told him to leave nothing out. 
“Kept her alive by the sounds of it, maybe looking to get a bastard out of her” Garrick mused.
“Knowing him he’ll keep her near the border to taunt us instead of moving her further up North” Price added.
Simon Riley would not be letting his betrothed get away with allowing MacTavish of all people to take the maidenhood that rightfully belonged to him. She needed a proper punishing fuck from an English man to learn better.
“Doesn’t matter where he keeps her. I’m going to take her, and she’s going to learn what happens to sluts who spread their legs for those Scottish bastards”.
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thebibliosphere · 2 days
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Being in the Pennyworth fandom will have you googling shit like "How to fortify an umbrella against acid rain" to try and give a smidge of credibility to the storyline you're plotting.
Meanwhile, the official writers are just giving interviews like, "Yeah, the mad cultists who got turned into super weapons by a drug activated by a popular song sung by Alfred Pennyworth's pop star girlfriend survived the nuclear bomb that got dropped on London, so now there are these irradiated mutant cultists cannibals roaming the streets of London who go ballistic for 70s pop ballads. What do you mean, 'how did we plan to resolve that?'"
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