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separatist-apologist · 2 days

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Fuck Me Up, Florida

Summary: Elain has some regrets- she'll bury them in Florida.

Read on AO3

Before:

Elain stood on the edge of her cottage, arms crossed over her chest. Maybe they’d taken things too far this time but there wasn’t room for this interloper, this stranger from an even stranger land. She and Lucien had lived in the swamplands for centuries—they would outlast the so-called witch seeking to take their territory.

But Lucien’s face…oh. He knelt beside her, head bowed as blood crusted over his golden skin. “You should go—”

“I’ll kill her,” Elain replied calmly, drawing forth the magic pulsating against her fingertips. She might lack Lucien’s ability to shift himself at will, to take on the terrifying form of the alligators that guarded the waters, nor could she rip out a throat with her teeth.

Elain could merely gaze into the future and reshape it to her will.

The witch—Amarantha, they called her—was from another place with crueler, colder rules. Her magic was just as old, but twisted and dark and wholly out of place in the warm, sunlit paradise. Elain had seen how it ended, saw the witch crumble to dust, though when she tried to see how, the future shifted wildly into a kaleidoscope of color.

The witch could be defeated. She would be defeated, if only for what she’d done to Lucien.

So Elain waited, dagger hidden beneath the cool material of her skirt, while Lucien continued to kneel beside her. He wanted to leave while they were still intact, but Elain refused. This was their home. She’d give it up over her dead body.

“Is that so?” Amarantha purred, stepping from seemingly thin air. Everything about her set Elain’s on edge. She was bone pale, with eyes so black they seemed to bleed against the whites of her eyes. Her hair was the same shade of freshly spilt blood and around one long, spindly finger she wore a ring made from a real, moving eye.

Her dress slithered against the mud, silencing the once lively world. “You’ll leave over your dead body?”

Lucien’s head snapped up, tasting the iron tang of magic mere seconds before Elain did. Amarantha pointed at Elain, eyes burning with deathly amusement.

“No—!”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Amarantha purred. Elain was frozen, trapped in a swirling mass of air. “She’ll be back.”

“Don’t,” Lucien pleaded. “I’ll do anything—”

“I want nothing from you. Only her and her meddling sisters. Let’s play a game…just to make it fair. I won’t kill her, little demon. She’ll be reborn and given one mortal lifespan. Bring him an offering of flesh as a sign of our bargain…and in return, if you can convince her to tell you she loves you, I’ll return her memories.”

Elain wanted to scream at Lucien not to take the deal. It was a fools errand—to rob her of her memories, to make her think she was mortal and then present her with a male who looked so inhuman no human would ever stand to be in his presence.

Say no, she tried to plead with her eyes. Feyre and Nesta would avenge her. Lucien looked up at her, face still freshly scarred, and shook his head. He knew it was impossible—a fools bargain. And still.

“It’s a deal.”

Elain took a breath.

And then she was gone.

Now:

She didn’t know how it happened.

One minute Elain Archeron had been listening to Graysen go on yet another tirade and the next…the next her hands her bloodied and Graysen was laying there lifeless, eyes glassy and tilted toward the vaulted ceiling. If she wanted to be honest with both herself and God, Elain would have admitted that she’d simply lost her temper.

He wasn’t yelling at her. Not this time, anyway. Instead, Graysen yelled about immigrants, he yelled about his politics, he yelled until his face was red and he realized that the only person left to yell at was her. And Elain was simply tired of apologizing.

She’d wanted him to just stop. To give her a moment to think, to settle her galloping heart. Even when she slept it was never peaceful, never deep. She tiptoed through her own life, making herself small and sweet so as not to draw his ire.

She’d always been that way.

What had been different, she wondered?

But she knew the answer to that, too. Two years of marriage—and two years of infidelity. She’d discovered it the week before when his phone lit up at three am, just in time for Elain to get up and use the bathroom. She couldn’t say what was different about that night, too. Maybe it had been the Georgia heat. Or maybe her body knew something her brain did not. Elain had spent the night scrolling through hundreds of love sick messages, and a hundred more that painted her out to be a frigid, standoffish wife who didn’t care about her husband's needs.

Any woman dumb enough to believe the tired story of the neglected married man deserved whatever she got. Which, in Elain’s estimation, was a man who yelled about everything all the time. He didn’t yell at that other woman, though.

He called her beautiful.

Elain could still remember when Graysen had talked to her like that, too.

So when he started yelling, Elain’s patience was already shredded thin. There was simply no more good will left. She’d picked up a heavy crystal face and smashed it over the back of his head. Graysen had pitched forward, forehead slamming against the sharp edge of their coffee table, rendering him dead before he ever connected with their hardwood.

She’d intended to turn herself in. That was the reasonable thing to do. Nesta was a lawyer, Feyre was married to old money—she figured she could spend a decade or so behind bars, even if orange did wash her out.

The world worked in mysterious ways. As Elain was picking up her phone, 911 already dialed, her phone dinged a warning.

Hurricane Elaine scheduled to make landfall on…

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

Elain burst out laughing. Hurricane Elaine? Really? Surely it was some cosmic joke and yet…

“Hello?”

“Sorry,” Elain said, still laughing like a lunatic. “My daughter, she…sorry.”

The annoyed operator on the other end huffed out a sigh, assured Elain it happened all the time, and ended the call.

Hurricane Elaine.

Elain was on the Florida-Georgia line, just far enough from the worst of the coming storm. It was a six hour drive to Destin, risky considering Elain had moved her husband's dead body to the back of his truck. If anyone noticed or stopped her, it was all over.

But if they didn’t…

Oh. But if they didn’t.

Graysen had a timeshare in Destin. It wasn’t much, though he was proud of it all the same. She’d never liked it, truth be told but in that moment, standing beneath a starry Georgia sky, Elain used their points and booked a week. It was the kind of thing Gray would do. He never wanted to evacuate, never took these kinds of threats seriously. Elain would dump his body in a swamp and then say the water simply swept Graysen away.

Maybe it would take her, too.

Elain didn’t have a preference one way or the other, truth be told. She merely thought getting away with his murder was another outcome she could live with right alongside being swept away by the sea. She thought about all of it as she drove in the dead of night, amazed by the traffic trying to leave Florida as Elain tried to enter.

Every couple songs on the radio warned about the impending storm. She didn’t care. Eain was giddy by the time she pulled into the resort, careful to hide Graysen’s body beneath a tarp. It couldn’t stay in her car for long without risking being caught, not with the Florida humidity. She simply needed to check in to make her story believable, and hope no one bothered checking the security cameras.

“You’re brave, checking in,” the cheerful woman at the front desk told her.

“Or stupid,” Elain replied with an easy smile. “My husband thought we’d have the pool all to ourselves.”

“Ocean, too,” the receptionist said before handing Elain the keys. “We aren’t required to evacuate but if things get any worse, you should.”

“I will,” she swore like a liar. All she needed was that key and a plausible alibi, after all. She’d been here, not committing any murders. Was it a crime to be stupid? No, especially not in Florida.

They could suspect her all they like, Elain didn’t care. She was free of Graysen without the mess of a divorce.

Would she feel grief once the dust had settled? When Graysen was nothing more than a few picked over bones at the bottom of a swamp would it all hit her? Would relief turn to misery? Would she lie awake in bed missing the warmth of his body?

Climbing back into her car, already warmed from the Florida heat, Elain decided she couldn’t let herself care. Not right then, anyway. Besides, if Elain was honest with herself, she was having a disturbing amount of fun.

Rolling down her window, Elain let the wind ruffle her hair like an affectionate parent as she grinned, cheeks pink from the humidity. If a hurricane was on its way, the world gave no sign of it. Though, Elain had turned from Destin to make her way toward a swamp that would become Graysen’s final resting place.

Good riddance, she thought. This was where she’d bury all her regrets, her mistakes, her ghosts. Maybe herself, too, though it was too early to make that determination. Maybe once Graysen had been dumped and Elain was alone in the resort, hurricane winds pounding against the roof.

Maybe.

Truth be told, Elain didn’t want to mourn or miss him. Her whole marriage felt like she’d been grieving a man who’d died the day she met him at the altar. He’d once been kind and sweet, had looked at her like she was the sun and he was merely a frigid planet begging for warmth. He’d been the one who’d changed, who’d embraced cold so brutal no light could penetrate his rotted heart.

Killing him had been an extreme course correction and yet…and yet Elain couldn’t find the empathy people had always praised her for. Couldn’t find anything but the knob of the radio and then her voice singing along, loud enough to be heard over the rush of the road. Nevermind that there was a dead body in the back of her stolen truck—the songs were all bops as palm trees became cypress and mangrove.

The air was thicker somehow, as if charged with magic. It was tempting to think that was just Florida itself and not her own delirious joy seeping out of her. She was nearly finished with the whole debacle. Her heart pounded as she pulled off the main road, tires betraying her in the mud as she crept deeper into territories unknown.

This was the hard part. As Elain cut the ignition, she considered for a moment the absurdity of her plan. If it worked, it would be sheer luck and nothing else. There was blood in her apartment, tire treads in the mud, and a hurricane on the horizon. She ought to go back to her original plan and call her older sister for help. Nesta would know what to do, would be able to get her out of serious trouble.

Elain knew if she dumped this body, there would be nothing Nesta could do to soften that blow. There would be no painting Elain as a victim but the aggressor, the abuser—everything Graysen had been before she took his life and made him part of the Florida ecosystem.

Elain took a breath before deciding fuck it. She’d come this far, hadn’t she? Might as well see it all the way through. Elain hopped from the cab, flats sucked into the mud so deeply she thought she might need to abandon them altogether. Managing to get her feet out of the mud, Elain pulled the tarp she’d half wrapped Graysen in from the back of the truck until his body slid to the ground.

The Florida heat was getting to her. Or, maybe it wasn’t the heat that was making her feel a little manic but the humidity—whatever it was, Elain let out a soft laugh before grabbing Graysen by his limp arms. She tried hard not to look too closely at his gray skin, eyes trained on the path ahead. Just get him the water, she told herself.

Television hadn’t prepared Elain for how heavy a dead body was. Graysen didn’t look like such a solid man but right then, Elain wanted to scream as she inched him forward, sweat dripping from her nose.

She was leaving DNA everywhere—if she didn’t get caught it was simply law enforcement refusing to do their job entirely. As she dragged him toward the murky water, Elain considered that she was merely digging her own grave, too. She ought to climb in after Graysen and let the alligators have her, too.

In the end, Elain kicked Graysen into the water with a heaving breath of air. He plopped into the green tinted water with a heavy splash that silenced the insects, if only for a moment. Shoulders aching, she braced herself against the sticky bark of a leaning tree, eyes closed.

It was done. She’d done it. There was no going back now. She could have turned back anytime before Graysen sank to the bottom of the swamp but now…now there was no way in hell Elain was getting in that water to try and drag him out.

She needed to leave. Spend the week in the timeshare at the pool until the hurricane hit and then…she didn’t know. She had no plan, no idea how to go about things and she was terrified to google any of it.

Elain opened her eyes, surprised to find she wasn’t alone. A man was coming toward her as he pulled thick, auburn hair up off his face in a messy bun.

“Are you alright?” he asked, eyes gleaming. Three long, vicious scars cut down one strange, gold eye that didn’t match the brown of the other.

Elain nodded her head, heart pounding in her throat. What had he seen? Mouth dry, tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, Elain could do nothing but wait as he came toward her. He wore light clothing that looked far more comfortable than her own, the white cotton of his shirt sticking against the muscular contours of his chest.

“What are you doing so far out here?” he pressed, eyes sliding from her to the water just beneath her. There was no evidence of what she’d done if he ignored the path she’d carved through mud and vegetation dragging Graysen’s body. And if he walked just half a mile toward the gravel road, she’d find Graysen’s truck parked, the doors flung open and likely filled with mosquitoes.

“I like nature,” she told him. It wasn’t even a lie—Elain worked for the botanical garden back home and maintained her own in the backyard she’d once shared with Graysen. “I’ve always wanted to see a swamp.”

“Could have taken a tour,” he said, eyes twinkling. “The alligators are real aggressive out here.”

“They can’t be that bad if you’re out here,” she shot back, unsure why she was being so combative with this man.

Something green glimmered beneath the collar of his shirt, inked against his skin. What kind of tattoo was it, she wondered?

“I practically live here,” he replied as he came closer, hands jammed in his pockets.

“You work in a swamp?”

He only shrugged. “It’s a living, right?”

“Well, if you’re not afraid of gators, neither am I.”

He came closer still. “There’s worse things in gators out in the swamps.”

Elain froze. There she was, in the middle of nowhere talking to a stranger who had appeared seemingly out of thin air. Her hair curled in the humidity, her face slick with sweat and yet he seemed serene. Unbothered by the heat, the heavy air, or their surroundings. Elain took a step backward.

“Right. Well I uh…should be going.” He didn’t try and stop her, seemingly amused as she made her way back up the path. “Watch yourself, Elain. There’s a hurricane coming, you know.”

She only nodded, turning her back on him to rush back to the car. She was too stressed to deal with the stranger in the swamp. Elain didn’t let herself think about him until she was back in the room at the resort standing beneath cool shower water.

Watch yourself, Elain.

Had she told him her name? Elain genuinely couldn’t remember. The stress of everything was getting to her—maybe she had. In that southern kind of way, a greeting that included letting him know who she was so he knew she was no threat at all.

Why not tell him what she’d done, too? Hi, I’m Elain Archeron and I murdered my husband.

Make it easier on the police when they went looking for witnesses. She could have given that man the murder weapon had it not been shattered in hundreds of pieces on her living room floor. Still, Elain replayed that parting sentence over and over in her head. Elain, Elain, Elain. Why had she told him her name? Why hadn’t she asked for his?

Should she have done something more? Assured him she was just a normal woman lost in the heart of a swamp she had no business being in? Had he watched her drag that body and merely waited to see what would happen? She was more concerned with getting caught than what she’d actually done, which also worried her.

What kind of person murdered their husband?

She did, apparently. Elain didn’t think she was a bad person—just sad. Mad, too, that things hadn’t worked the way she’d wanted to. Angrier still that she’d loved him the way she had and in the end, it hadn’t even been good enough. She still remembered insisting to Nesta that Gray was her soulmate and their love was the thing of legends. It was love so pure, so perfect, so timeless that one day people would write books about it.

She supposed she hadn’t been wrong about that last one. Some true crime junkie would pick up this story and write about her. Would they call her a Black Widow? No, she decided as she laid there in the dark listening to the wind. She had no intention of remarrying, after all, and certainly wouldn’t kill another man. But they’d come up with some other offensive nickname for her, labeling her without really knowing her heart.

Elain fell asleep easier than she’d expected to, though her dreams were confusing and vivid. She was back in that swamp, wading deeper and deeper into the water as something made its way toward her, gold eyes reflecting the moonlight onto the water. Blood—no, hair—fanned out behind the creature and when he raised his head to smile, teeth sharpened to a point.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, his voice cutting through the still night. Elain couldn’t move, frozen in place as he came further and further out of the water. The green on his neck, she realized, wasn’t a tattoo but scales and behind him, a tail propelled him forward just as surely as his legs did.

She couldn’t scream. Trapped in mud, Elain could only stand as he came closer and closer, water dripping from his bare chest. The opaque water obscured his bottom half which was for the best—she was certain she didn’t want to see it.

He reached out to touch her, golden skin somehow glowing in the moonlight, and—

Elain woke to the sound of thunder, sheets sticking to her sweat soaked skin. The doors to the balcony attached to her bedroom were flung open and though it wasn’t raining yet, puddles of water pooled on the tile floor. Elain sighed loudly, palm pressed right above her breast in an attempt to silence her screaming heart.

It was just a dream. A nightmare, truly, borne of her guilty mind and her fear she was going to be caught. Elain forced herself to get up, grab a towel from the bathroom, and wipe up the water. This time, she made sure she locked the balcony doors so the wind wouldn’t blow them open before she crawled back into bed.

The nightmares were the same, though.

And when she woke, the doors were opened again.

Unwilling to take it lying down, Elain went down to the front desk to ask if she could be moved. Her doors, she explained ruefully—if there was a hurricane, she didn’t want to deal with water flying in. The person at the front desk was far less sympathetic to Elain’s cause and though they didn’t say so, it was clear they thought she and everyone else still at the resort was an idiot.

She tried not to let it bother her.

She needed to just stick to her plan. It was a terrible plan, admittedly, but it was too late to back out, now. Elain spent the day sitting outside by the pool holding a book in her hand, too nervous to read even a page. She kept waiting for the police to descend on her, led by the man haunting her nightmares.

There she is, he’d say with open accusation. There’s the woman who murdered her husband and thought she could get away with it.

They didn’t come. Frantically checking the news every couple of minutes, Elain found more warnings of the tropical storm about to descend on them, found other stories of murder, but nothing about her. No one had called to check in on Gray—not even the woman he was having an affair with. Elain had his phone sitting on her bedside table, monitoring it for anyone who might be worried about him.

No one was.

It was almost too easy.

If it hadn’t been for the nightmares, Elain might have just turned around and gone home. Maybe that would have silenced her nightmares. Elain dreamt of the man again, noting the way the green scales seemed more repetilian than those of a tattoo. This time, as Elain waded into the swampy water, she found her voice again.

“Who are you?” she asked, white nightgown floating around her.

He offered her a truly terrifying smile, those teeth tinged red in the moonlight. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he told her again, his voice a haunting melody.

“Why?”

He was close enough she could smell the earthy scent of him. It was familiar, somehow, though she was certain she’d remember if she’d seen him before.

He merely cocked his head, standing to his full height. Water sluiced off his body and though she knew this was merely a dream from her stressed out and panicked brain, Elain’s eyes dipped between his legs all the same. Now she knew it was a dream because men should only have one appendage…and this man had two. What was wrong with her?

He didn’t seem concerned with her gaze—not amused nor offended. Instead, he stepped forward, reaching for a long curl between two long, strong fingers.

“Mate,” he whispered, reaching for her before she could stumble back. It was just a dream, she told herself…and yet it felt real. Elain swore she could feel the sharpened claws against her back just as surely as she could feel the warm water enveloping her.

“What about alligators?” she breathed, earning a soft chuckle from the creature holding her.

“You don’t need to worry about anything harming you,” he said, dipping his head to run his nose along the shell of her ear.

“Because this is a dream,” she said, eyes closed.

Another laugh drew shivers up her spine. “Whatever you say.”

But it was a dream, even if it felt real. She knew she’d wake up and the door would be open because subconsciously she wanted to get caught. “What’s your name?”

“Lucien,” he replied, running a finger over her cheek. How long had it been since someone had touched her like this? Like she was special, cherished—loved?

“Why are you waiting for me?” she questioned, deciding if it really was a dream, maybe it didn’t have to be a nightmare. Maybe she could enjoy herself in the privacy of her strange fantasies. Maybe the scales, which she found softer than she expected them to be, were representative of something.

“You’re my mate,” he murmured. Hadn’t she just read a book about that? The men hadn’t been so strange looking—merely more handsome versions of humans, their ears a little pointed, their teeth a little sharper. Elain relaxed in his arms as she realized she was merely trapped in a strange dream about the men she read in books.

“Of course,” she said, amusement lacing her tone. He cocked his head, wet hair plastered to his bare shoulder.

“You don’t believe me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Elain declared blithely, kicking her feet gently in the water between them. “I think I left a body in here.”

“He’s gone now,” Lucien informed her. Oh, how Elain wished that was true. “Who was he to you?”

“My husband,” she said mirthfully as she inclined her head toward the moon overhead. “He yelled a lot.”

Lucien’s grip around her body tightened. “Did he hurt you?”

“Not in the ways that matter.”

“They matter to me,” he said, and of course they did. Elain loved herself and this man was merely an extension of her own mind. Still, pretend or not, it felt good to have someone care about her.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she told him, turning to look him back in the eyes. It was here she found those scars again and wondered what had caused them. Would her mind fill in the gaps for her? “Who did this to you?”

He chuckled, catching her wrist to press a kiss to her open palm as she tried to run her fingers over the grooves. “Another male was interested in my territory. He tried to take my eye, I took his throat.”

“How very vicious of you,” she teased. “Are you half alligator, then?”

“Simply put, I suppose,” he said, the amusement in his gaze sharpening to something she didn’t recognize. It was almost desperation that stared back, a plea to know something she had only forgotten. Elain felt the strangest rush of deja vu, though it faded into the night before she could grasp it, a balloon whose string was just out of reach.

“What are you? Can I ask that?”

“You can ask me anything you like,” he told her, his voice dropping an octave. Elain felt a rush of want as he waded further into the water, clearly unconcerned with the lurking danger.

“I am…” he trailed off, clearly trying to find the words before he turned to look at her again. Elain was tracing the scales adorning his shoulders and neck like tattoos, trying to remember the last time she’d touched anything reptilian. “Old, I suppose.”

“How old?”

“Old,” he emphasized.

“You don’t look old,” she said, half laughing at how predictable her daydreams were.

“I age slowly,” he informed her solemnly. “You did once, too.” “Oh? Before what?”

Skimming his hand over the top of the opaque water, he said, “You’re my curse, now.”

“How do you break the curse?”

Those strange, reflective eyes found the same glassy water they were floating in. He didn’t say, but Elain knew because this was her dream, her fantasy, her imagination. “It’s love, isn’t it?”

He looked so hopeful as he met her gaze. “Yes,” he said hoarsely.

It was a dream. “You seem like you’d be extremely easy to love.”

Pressing his forehead against her own, Lucien exhaled softly. “Let me show you.”

Lucien brought them to the opposite end of the swamp, unconcerned with his nakedness or the fact that she was openly staring at him. Well, not at him so much as what was slowly rising between his legs—two appendages, one longer than the other by a good inch. Elain didn’t need him to explain how they worked, though she was curious as to the point. Surely, from an evolutionary standpoint, one was enough?

Taking his hand, Elain let him lift her from the water, well aware he was just as fascinated by her form which was no longer hidden given the way her nightdress clung to her body.

“What are you going to show me?”

Lucien didn’t respond. Instead, he grabbed her by the back of the neck and kissed her, sharp teeth grazing her bottom lip. Elain let him, reflecting that even though this man was a monstrous figment of her imagination, it had been a while since someone kissed her like they meant it. Like they wanted her. Maybe, she thought, this was some kind of weird metaphor. The only man who could ever love her was a monster, after all—just like Graysen.

Or maybe she was the monster.

After all, she was the murderer. Lucien was just a man she’d seen in the swamp that would one day testify at her trial while she remembered how they’d had sex in a dream. Elain kissed him back, surprised to find he tasted warm and sweet—like a warm, summer day. This was the type of dream she liked—the sort where she could feel pleasure without the endless guilt that seemed to fill her.

She could taste blood in her mouth, slipping back into her throat as his tongue chased after it, kissing her with a frenzied hunger that Elain wished was real. The trick was not waking up before she came—Elain had never quite mastered that

She knew it was a dream for sure when he lifted her nightdress, swatting her hand when she tried to touch his bare skin.

“Just you,” he breathed, scales glinting in the moonlight. No man would ever, she decided as Lucien ran his own hands down her now naked form. It was almost like touching herself, forcing an awareness of her body that Elain rarely had. She didn’t pay attention to how it felt when someone's fingers teased her breasts or the way cool skin felt against her own. Or, she hadn’t in so long she’d forgotten what true pleasure could be like and he hadn’t really done anything.

“What do you like?” he asked through a heavy breath of humid air.

“I…” Elain was suddenly too embarrassed to tell him. Everything felt real—Lucien sank to muscular knees, his thick tail curling around the pair of them.

“Do you like this?” he asked in a husky voice as his forked tongue traced shapes against her upper thigh. To keep balance, Elain slid her fingers into his thick, silken hair.

“Yes,” she admitted while he lifted her leg up off the ground, hooking it over his broad shoulder. Little ridges adorned his spine, flexible when her toe brushed up against one. Elain was fascinated with his form—more man than creature, but not human at all. She might have demanded an answer had that tongue of his not licked up the length of her.

Elain nearly toppled over, but Lucien wrapped a strong arm around her waist, pulling her closer while cupping her ass in one of his large, strong hands. He groaned with pleasure, the sound drowning out the screaming, watchful cicadas in the background.

“And this?” he demanded, licking again.

“Yes,” she breathed, head thrown back so she could look up at the stars. If she’s been more articulate, she would have told him that she liked it too much, and Gray had never wanted to do it. It took too long, he’d complained which of course only made it take longer. Elain was so self conscious every time he did go down that she never finished and often just counted to two hundred, faked it, and let him move on.

“I need to taste you,” Lucien informed her, pulling her so close against him she wasn’t convinced he could breathe. She would have told him he was already tasting her if she’d been braver and less afraid that at any moment she was going to wake up and realize the whole thing was just a really weird, yet really good dream.

Because it was her dream, Elain didn’t have to worry she was taking too long. In fact, Elain wanted to drag her pleasure out. His tongue was just rough enough to provide the smallest amount of friction while his mouth was otherwise soft and warm. Perfect, she decided with a sigh.

She wanted to spread herself out. Maybe Lucien knew it, or maybe the ground merely hurt his knees. All she knew for certain was in the span it took to draw breath, Lucien was on his back and she was straddling his face, staring down the length of his rigid, muscular body. She wanted to touch him and so she did, spreading her legs as wide as she could get away with so she could lean against him.

Lucien moaned when she pressed a kiss against his stomach. Distracted, she half forgot what he was doing with his mouth. It was just…well, two cocks were endlessly fascinating to her. Why? What was the point? Elain reached between his legs and took the thicker, larger one in her hand. It was ridged, she realized with wild desperation. What would it feel like? Would her mind even know? Was she imagining this because she’d been shopping for vibrators a month earlier and stumbled upon some truly strange looking dildos?

“Fuck,” Lucien panted, inclining his head away from her swollen pussy to look at her. “You don’t—it’s fine, just…just come here—”

Lucien put his mouth back on her with a vengeance, determined to distract her so thoroughly she couldn’t pleasure him, too. It was a game now, trying to get him off even as waves of pleasure began to build in her chest, threatening to drown her at any moment. Had anything felt better?

Lucien writhed beneath her, prompting Elain to reach around for the second one and grip it, too. He gasped, breath warm against her throbbing cunt, before returning to licking circles around her clit.

They came within seconds of each other—though Elain didn’t get to see any of it. Body throbbing, the sound of thunder crashing pulled her from her dream, body still roiling from her orgasm.

“Christ alive,” Elain swore softly, pushing the blankets from her body to close the balcony doors again. She knew she’d locked them before bed, had pulled the handles to be sure they were firmly locked.

Water was pooled on the floor again, her bare feet splashing in puddles as she made her way back to the ensuite bathroom. All Elain could think about was the man—the stranger she couldn’t stop dreaming about and his strange, inhuman features.

She’d nearly forgotten why she was dreaming about him. It was only after Elain had cleaned everything up did she recall that oh, right. She’d killed her husband and her brain was apparently trying to decode this information in the form of giving a strange swamp man two penises.

Elain was going insane. Seeing things that weren’t there, manifesting her own downfall. Was this what if felt like to be haunted? Only, there were no ghosts—only her own guilt tormenting her while she slept.

Elain shoved a chair against the balcony doors before she went back to bed, forced to lay on the opposite end because the mattress felt wet, too. Sweat, surely.. And the swamp man didn’t return, though when she woke the chair was back in its original place beside the window and the doors were open again. Outside, the world had gone red, the sky tinged with blood. Elain felt as though she’d manifested it herself, though that was pure arrogance to think she had any affect on the weather.

Her phone was screaming at her to get out, pinging emergency instructions from the resort on where to go when the hurricane made landfall. Elain planted herself in her bedroom determined to see this lie through. It was the kind of thing Gray would do, besides—he never too much stock in the hysterics, as he called it.

And she was so pathetic that she would have sat beside him and waited to die. Elain told herself she’d be fine, even as fear skittered up her spine. Sirens blared just outside and when she stepped toward the window, Elain could see the storm on the horizon. She took a breath, intending to go sit back in bed and try and read her book. Elain would have, too, had she not seen him coming out the sea itself, eyes trained on her bedroom window. He was merely a dot, a doll walking so far below her Elain was positive he couldn’t see her.

And yet she knew he could. Wind whipped around him, blowing his hair this way and that though he didn’t seem bothered by it. Elain watched, mouth half open, as a palm tree was shoved violently to the ground as though a giant hand had pushed it there. But the man didn’t budge, kept walking as though it were a perfectly normal day.

Oh god.

Elain rushed to the door, locking it before making her way out of her bedroom. Where was she going to go? She turned, standing in the living area, eyes trained on the beach. The man was gone and for a moment, Elain consoled herself that she was just crazy. He didn’t exist, her mind had merely snapped and when this was all over, she’d check herself into an asylum.

Elain looked away for a moment, turning toward the little kitchenette she hadn’t used. “You’re okay—” The glass shattered, sending Elain flying to the floor, arms thrown over her head to avoid getting hit by debris. Unable to hear her own thoughts over the wind, Elain tried to recall what she should do in the middle of a hurricane.

Cool fingers curled around her upper arm, hoisting her up into the air. Elain turned her head, horrified to find herself cradled against the half naked skin of the strangely scaled man. “You,” she accused, certain all this was his doing.

His smile was grim, eyes wide and round. He looked scared. “Me,” he murmured, his deep voice cutting through the noise. “It’s time to go home.”

“I’m not going—” the wind screamed as water pelted the pair of them, stinging her skin with each new assault. He didn’t seem concerned at all, ignoring the glass crunching underneath them as he walked her toward the bedroom.

“We’re going to die—”

“You’re going to remember,” Lucien interrupted, tail swishing angrily behind him. He looked catlike in the stormy dark, eyes glowing like sunlight cutting through shadow.

“You’re not real,” she breathed as he ripped her night dress in half. He certainly felt real.

“You know me,” he breathed, staring down at her. “You love me.”

“You’re a monster,” she replied.

Lucien grinned, betraying two rows of sharp teeth. “I’ll show you a monster.”

She tried to push him away but Lucien knew better. Knew he could have her if he wanted her—had already touched her, tasted her. Her protests were weak, silenced the moment his mouth was back on hers. He was real—they were real. She almost forgot about the screaming wind rattling the windows and pushing glass around the living area.

“You brought me an offering,” Lucien panted, hitching her leg up around his now bare waist. When had he taken off his pants? “Tell me you love me.”

“What offering—”

“The body. Your husband,” he spat, eyes darkening at the memory. “Tell me you love me.”

“I hate you,” she replied as he wrapped both hands around her bare thighs and wrenched them open.

“Wrong answer,” he replied. Elain kicked at his chest as Lucien lined himself up not just with her pussy, but her ass, too.

Their eyes met. “Does this feel real, now?” he whispered, inching himself forward just enough to punch the lungs from her breath. “You know me.”

“I don’t,” she replied as something metallic lodged itself in her nose. The world was ending in an explosion of air and water and yet a strange bubble seemed to exist around them. Words, just on the tip of her tongue, if only she could remember them, begged to be released. To finish a spell long since cast.

Lucien waited for a heartbeat, his hope etched over his features. When Elain said nothing, Lucien pressed himself closer to her, cocks intruding on her body like an old, familiar friend. Elain swore she’d never felt anything like it and yet her body stretched on instinct to accommodate him. Even when Elain wriggled, trying to create some resistance, her body simply allowed him to slide easily inside.

“Why two?” she panted, gritting her teeth to adjust to the feeling of being stretched to capacity.

“I can’t impregnate my mate if she doesn’t feel pleasure,” he replied breathlessly. His hair fell like a sunlit curtain between them, his eyes bright and earnest.

“Lucien,” she breathed, nails cutting against his biceps. It’s you, it’s you, it’s you—but who are you?

“Yes,” he managed, pulling himself out of the sticky wet that was her body. Spitting in his hand, Lucien lubricated his shaft now halfway buried in her ass before he thrust himself back in and

Elain was forced to admit that it all felt good. Her back arched of its own accord, eyes rolling upward in her skull. The ridges lining his cock made each new thrust sharper, the pleasure brighter.

“Our bond goes beyond marriage,” Lucien told her as colors filled her vision. “What we have is stronger than love.” His fingers stroked between her legs, rubbing tight circles around her clit until Elain was panting and writhing. She was going to come right alongside the hurricane bearing her name and then what? The windows would give way and the world would one day know of the woman who died because she decided fucking was more important than evacuating.

She didn’t care. Elain pulled him closer, running her hand over the flexible spines running the length of his back until she found the tail protruding just above the swell of his ass.

“Please,” she begged, wrapping her legs around his waist. Lucien whined in response, sweat dripping down his forehead as he ran his nose along her own.

“I can’t stop,” he told her, pressing a kiss along the corner of her mouth. “If you don’t say it, we start all over.”

“I love you,” she said, half meaning it. What did hurt, she decided? He was so obviously insane and maybe so was she, because she was still fucking him, wasn’t she? Maybe this was what she deserved.

Lucien’s pace quickened and with each new thrust a new memory came flooding through her awareness. A cottage on the edge of a swap, a cauldron filled with bubbling liquid. A male half hidden in the water, gold tinged eyes looking for predators as his red hair fanned out behind him.

Amarantha.

Her horrible bargain.

Elains vision.

“Lucien,” she said, fisting his hair so he had to look back at him. He recognized her words, the look on her face.

“You’re back,” he whispered, still thrusting into her though his rhythm slipped into wild, animalistic thrusting.

“You feel exactly as I remember,” she told him, dragging her nails down his back. “What took you so long?”

“Let a man wallow for a century or two,” Lucien replied, kissing her again. “Come for me. Now.”

She did, though not because he told her to— because she was already desperate and close and Lucien was pushing every button she had. Elain tightened around him as Lucien babbled unintelligibly about how wet and tight she was. Some things, she supposed, would never change. The world would.

But not them. Never them.

Lucien came loudly, roaring over the wind she’d forgotten about. Was there a hurricane? Had she been afraid of it? That seemed almost laughable to her now. Turning her head as Lucien buried his own in the crook of her neck, Elain stared out the window coated in violet raindrops.

For a moment, the storm was the only sound between them.

“You borrowed my magic,” Elain accused once his breathing steadied. She could feel his come leaking down her leg, slipping between the spaces his cocks occupied.

“You didn’t know how to use it,” Lucien replied with a sheepish grin.

Elain poked him in the ribs. “Is she dead?”

“Not yet,” he told her, gaze darkening. “Feyre drove her out a century before.”

“Let's finish it, then.”

“In time,” Lucien promised, withdrawing himself so he could offer her his hand. “Home, first.”

Elain grinned. “Home, then.”

#happy friday #elucien #vangator time

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mixterglacia · 1 day

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WARNING: VIVZIEPOP CRITICAL, STOLITZ CRITICAL CONTENT.

I get fairly mean in this one, you've been warned.

I am so sorry, Viv. You can't convince me to see Stolitz as anything beyond a toxic, doomed to fail, train wreck.

I'm SO down for a good toxic ship.

In fact, I found their pilot dynamic far more interesting than the current writing seems to be depicting.

I refuse to feel bad for a man that caught feelings for a childhood """friend""" so hard he ruined his own life. Blitz owes NOTHING to Stolas. He agreed to fuck him so he could run a business that is barely discussed, even though it was the original point of the show.

Does it suck that Stolas had to deal with an arranged marriage that he never wanted with a mean wife? Yeah.

You know what else sucks?

THAT STELLA HAD TO MARRY A MAN SHE NEVER WANTED, AND HAD TO GIVE BIRTH TO HIS CHILD. ALL WHILE HAVING A FUCKING CREEP OF A BROTHER. ALL WHILE BEING TREATED AS A MONSTER BY THE FANDOM THAT CAN'T UNDERSTAND HYPOCRISY IF IT BIT THEM IN THE FACE.

Like yes, she's a cantankerous bitch. But you can't seriously pretend like she isn't also suffering in this relationship. The only difference is she turns her pain into external anger, where as Stolas has been turned into uwu soft bird who can do no wrong.

Even though he destroyed his family in an extremely public way. Octavia is going to have to live with the impact of her father's decisions for the rest of her life. You can't seriously expect me to feel bad for a man that is the agent of his own destruction.

You also can't tell me that Blitz just needs to get over himself just so he can be with a man who's father BOUGHT HIM FOR HIS SON AS A PRESENT.

To reiterate. If this was meant to be read as a terrible toxic arrangement that just keeps happening? I'm down for that. But this is not, and will never be cute or healthy.

Blitz doesn't owe Stolas anything. He keeps up his end of the bargain. It's purely sexual, and just because Stolas can't accept that doesn't make it Blitz's problem.

Stolas needs to learn how to accept rejection and move the fuck on. He knew he would catch feelings and considering he basically has Blitz on a leash, that doesn't make this any less gross.

The fact that he knows Blitz will leave if he's given the power to go to earth on his own proves it.

Blitz has frankly done very little IF ANYTHING to warrant being subjected to this level of obsession on Stolas' part. He's just trying to make a living.

Frankly, if you wanted us to actually think Blitz was interested, you've totally missed the boat with that one. This should have been worked on ages ago and it makes it feel exceptionally rushed and out of character on Blitz's part.

At this point I'm starting to think Fizz and Ozzie are a fluke of good writing in a sea of godsawful shit. Charlie and Vaggie felt like a literal afterthought in their own show. Husk and Angel are so rushed it felt like watching a relationship at double speed. Are we even supposed to think Pen and Cherry are actually a thing? Because if I was Cherry I would have punched Pen for that shit.

Christ. I don't drink but Viv makes me feel like starting.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

#logan laments #vivziepop critical #stolitz critical #negative

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i-turned-into-the-stone · 10 hours

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[Commissioned] Sponsor's Choice: YooA

Tags: Dubcon, gangbang, anal, vaginal insertion, double penetration, face fucking, cum in mouth, a lot of creampies, cum in ass

Word Count: 8,653

A/N: It's my first time writing gangbang smut with complete characters, so if things get a little confusing, I'm sorry. I hope the nicknames I came up with for the OCs aren't too weird and fit the whole concept. And thanks for trusting me with this commission. I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

YooA's hunger for solo success had grown stronger after her latest successful comeback. She repeatedly visited the CEO's office, demanding more solo events, but his response remained the same - he wanted her to focus on group activities with the other members of OMG.

While YooA didn't mind participating in group activities, she despised the CEO's habit of sending the group to pointless events. She craved something that would elevate both OMG's fame and her own status as the face of the group.

Determined to demand something more worthwhile, YooA stormed into the CEO's office with her heels clicking against the marble floor. Her skintight dress accentuated her curves flawlessly, catching the CEO's attention.

"CEO-nim, I've been waiting for this meeting," YooA leaned forward, revealing ample cleavage spilling out of her dress.

"OMG has been doing exceptionally well, but I feel like I'm not getting the recognition I deserve. These group activities are a waste of my time. I want something that will skyrocket my solo fame."

The CEO, a greedy man with a glint in his eyes, leaned back in his chair and eyed YooA with a hidden purpose.

"I understand your frustration, YooA-ya. But group activities are crucial for building your collective image."

YooA scoffed, flipping her long hair over her shoulder. "Collective image, my ass. I'm the true star of the group, and everyone knows it. I want events that will solidify my position as the backbone of OMG."

The CEO chuckled, intertwining his fingers. "Well, I might have something special for someone like you, after all."

He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a sleek black envelope, handing it to YooA. "You've been invited to a private masquerade party for VIPs. You'll be the opening act, and then you will have a special performance just for them."

YooA accepted the envelope, her eyes glistening with excitement. "A masquerade party, huh?" she said, her fingers tracing the embossed lettering on the envelope.

The CEO leaned forward, his gaze stern. "Remember, the identities of the VIP guests will be hidden behind masks. You'll need to be on your best behavior. Impress them, Yoo Shiah, and who knows, you might secure some profitable sponsorships."

YooA nodded, envisioning herself as the center of attention. "Of course, CEO-nim. I won't let you down. I won't let this opportunity slip away." She examined the envelope, noting the date and location.

The CEO rose from his chair, signaling the end of their conversation. "Excellent. Consult your manager to handle all the preparations and training. I expect nothing less than perfection from you, YooA."

As YooA turned to leave, the CEO chuckled to himself, his eyes gleaming with interest.

"Let's see if a greedy woman like you can handle more than you've asked for," he murmured, watching her hips sway as she exited the room.

Back at the dorm, the other members greeted YooA with joyous cheers and congratulations upon hearing about the prestigious masquerade party.

The girls quickly organized a small celebration, showering YooA with well wishes and excitement. Although they refrained from consuming alcohol to ensure YooA remained sober for her rehearsals and practices, the members still reveled in the festive atmosphere.

The following day, YooA's intense preparation and practice for the masquerade event commenced. She approached the challenge with high spirits, determined to shine and secure the lucrative sponsorship deals promised by the CEO.

The choreographer pushed her to her limits, but YooA met every challenge with enthusiasm, flawlessly executing each step and vocal flourish.Finally, the day of the party arrived, and YooA's stomach fluttered with nervous anticipation.

The stylists meticulously attended to her appearance, adorning her in a shimmering evening gown that accentuated her curves. She wore an elegant mask that concealed the upper half of her face.

Taking one last look at her reflection, YooA took a deep breath. A confident smirk graced her lips as she stepped out of the door of the company and into the awaiting black limousine that would transport her to the exclusive venue.

As the elongated vehicle glided through the discreet back entrance of the lavish mansion, her eyes widened in awe at the extravagant display of wealth.

Towering columns, sparkling fountains, and meticulously manicured gardens surrounded the impressive estate, a clear symbol of its inhabitants' opulence and status.

The process of verifying her identity through the invitation card at the entrance took a few minutes, but soon enough, a staff member guided YooA and her managers to the exclusive waiting room.

Even this private space exuded luxury, with plush velvet couches, a fully stocked bar, and expansive floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the magnificent grounds.

With an hour left before her performance, YooA seized the opportunity to warm up her vocal cords and loosen her body. The mansion didn't appear too crowded, as only the elite VIP guests had received invitations.

YooA appreciated the relative tranquility, relishing the calm before the storm. Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, YooA admired how the shimmering gown and elegant mask transformed her appearance.

"Time to leave a lasting impression," she whispered to herself, a surge of excitement coursing through her veins.

An hour flew by in a flash, and before YooA knew it, she was standing behind a curtain on the makeshift stage in the massive hall. The female host's elegant voice echoed through the speakers, officially kicking off the exclusive masquerade party.

Summoning her courage, YooA stepped onto the stage, her shiny outfit catching the warm spotlight glow. Her performance was on point, hitting every note and nailing every dance move with precision and grace.

The VIP guests below roared with applause, clearly enthralled by her captivating presence. Little did YooA know, the real audience was hidden on the second-floor balconies, their identities concealed behind ornate animal masks.

Their intense, hungry gazes weren't focused on her singing or dancing - they were fixated on her slender, swaying body, mentally undressing her with each alluring movement.

These VIPs couldn't care less about the quality of her performance; their only interest was how they could soon have this gorgeous starlet fulfilling their wicked desires.

YooA drank in the roaring applause, her performance coming to a triumphant close.

Every step and melody had been executed flawlessly, and the VIP audience had lapped it up eagerly.

Satisfied with her work, she made her way back to the waiting room to slip into something more comfortable while she awaited the next performance.

Returning to the plush and private space, YooA swiftly shed her gown and slipped into a form-fitting mini-dress.

"Phew, that was intense!" she exclaimed, fanning herself as she flopped onto one of the velvety couches.

Just then, a venue staff member approached, signaling for YooA and her team to follow. "Your table is ready. We've prepared a private dining area with top-notch food and drinks for you to enjoy."

YooA's interest was piqued. She turned to her managers. "What do you guys say?”

Her managers exchanged a glance before shrugging. "Well, we're not about to turn down good food and drinks. Let's go for it!" her stylist replied with a grin.

As they were escorted to the exclusive dining area, YooA's eyes widened at the magnificent spread laid out before them - platters of exquisite sushi, succulent Kobe beef, and bottles of the finest champagne.

"Wow, they're really going all out," she murmured, already reaching for a glass.

Taking a deep, appreciative sip, YooA sank into her chair, relishing the moment. "This is the life, huh? I could definitely get used to this kind of treatment."

YooA was totally digging every bite and sip, relishing the chance to go all out on the top-notch grub and drinks. As she shot the breeze with her crew, it hit her that none of them had a clue about the real deal behind this posh masquerade bash. They were just following the CEO's lead.

But YooA didn't sweat it. She was soaking up the VIP treatment, feeling confident that her killer performance had blown the minds of the guests. She sighed with contentment, giving her champagne glass a final top-up.

Before long, her managers rolled up, giving her the heads up that it was time to slip into something special for her big show. YooA nodded, setting her glass down and making her way back to the waiting room.

When she laid eyes on the skin-tight, revealing gray dress laid out for her, she raised an eyebrow. The outfit clung to every curve, her perky rack was front and center, and the skirt was so short that her ass was practically peeking out.

"Is this... a bit much, don't you think?" YooA quizzed, running her hands over the clingy fabric. But then she shook her head, telling herself to quit being a buzzkill. "Forget it. I just need to focus on putting on a mind-blowing performance."

Slipping into the revealing dress, YooA took a deep breath and made her way back out to the stage, swaying her hips with a whole lot of confidence. Her crew had her back, so what could possibly go wrong?

YooA strolled through the lavish corridors of the mansion, guided by her entourage, until they reached a pair of grand double doors. With a graceful entrance, she stepped through, finding herself on a luxurious rooftop terrace, the night breeze teasing her exposed skin.

In the center of the open space, a group of masked men were chilling, their fancy outfits slightly rumpled. A fox, a rabbit, an owl, a bear, and a snake - each rocking an intricate animal mask that concealed their true identities. They lounged around an oval table, drinks, snacks, and desserts spread out before them.

As the staff who led her there bowed and exited, the door clicking shut behind her, the masked men rose to their feet, their voices charged with excitement.

"Welcome, welcome, Miss YooA!" purred the guy in the fox mask, stepping forward. "Come, have a seat with us." He motioned to the plush couch at the center of their circle.

The others chimed in, introducing themselves with nicknames based on their masks. "I'm Mr. Fox," the first dude announced, "and these fellas here are Mr. Rabbit, Mr. Owl, Mr. Bear, and Mr. Snake."

A shiver danced down YooA's spine as they guided her towards the couch, their predatory gazes devouring her with every glance. Something about this whole setup felt off, but she pushed aside her growing unease.

Putting on her best smile, she settled onto the couch amidst the masked men, acutely aware of how her short, curve-hugging dress captured most of their attention. "Pleasure to meet you all," she replied, silently praying that this "special performance" would go off without a hitch.

YooA mustered a coy smile as she settled into the plush couch, encircled by the masked men. "I'm here to put on a show for you tonight," she said, trying to exude confidence. "I hope you'll enjoy what I've got in store."

Mr. Snake, his eyes gleaming behind the reptilian mask, leaned in and poured her a glass of luscious, red wine. "Just relax, Miss YooA," he rumbled in a smooth, velvety voice. "We already take pleasure in your company.

Mr. Bear, a towering figure in his furry disguise, cleared his throat. "So, Miss YooA, how's the idol life treating you? Any thrilling plans on the horizon?" He extended a plate of mouthwatering indulgent truffles.

YooA accepted the wine and the delectable treats, doing her best to appear at ease as the men engaged her in polite small talk. She knew her mission was to please them, so she played along with their questions and feigned interest.

The men continued to ply her with drinks and appetizers, their masked gazes never straying from her figure. YooA felt their hungry eyes roaming over her exposed skin, and she fought the urge to squirm away. No matter what, she had to keep them satisfied.

As the conversation and laughter carried on, YooA felt her body growing warm, and her head started to spin. But she kept up her practiced smile, determined not to let anything ruin this golden opportunity the CEO had given her.

Unbeknownst to the young idol, the men had been discreetly spiking her drinks and snacks with drugs. They exchanged knowing glances as the substances started to take effect, allowing them to shed their polite masks.

Mr. Snake got up from his seat, moving behind the couch where YooA was seated. He placed his hands on her bare shoulders, sending a shiver through her drugged-out body. "Miss YooA, my dear, I hear you've been looking for some... sponsorship opportunities," he purred, his voice oozing with false concern.

YooA's face lit up at his words. “Oh, yes! The CEO said this could be my chance if I do well,” she blurted and leaned back into his touch a little bit, totally unaware of the predatory glimmer in Mr. Snake's eyes.

The other guys snickered, shifting in their seats, their pants getting uncomfortably tight as they ogled YooA's defenseless form. The time had finally come – they were going to make sure this greedy idol got way more than she bargained for.

Mr. Snake leaned in close, his breath tickling YooA's ear. "My dear, we're so pleased to hear of your eagerness to perform for us tonight," he purred, his grip tightening on her shoulders. "But you see, your performance will be... a bit different than what you had in mind."

YooA's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? I'm ready to give it my all for you all." She moved to stand, but Mr. Snake suddenly pressed down on her shoulders, forcing her back onto the couch.

"Ah, ah, ah," he chuckled darkly. "You misunderstand. We want you to become our doll tonight - to do with as we please." Before YooA could even react, two of the other masked men moved in, roughly grabbing hold of her arms.

The third man, Mr. Bear, popped open a full bottle of wine. "First things first, let's get you nice and wet, hmm?" he growled, shoving the bottle towards YooA's face.

Mr. Snake held her head in place as the man forced the bottle's neck between her lips, tilting it to pour the sweet, intoxicating liquid down her throat. YooA choked and sputtered, but the men showed no mercy, determined to break her down and make her their compliant plaything.

YooA's eyes went wide with panic as the pungent wine was forced down her throat. She choked harder but Mr. Snake's iron grip on her head kept her in place. The liquid burned as it went down, and she could feel it sloshing in her stomach, making her head spin even more.

Mr. Fox, who held her other arm, suddenly gripped her neck tightly, cutting off her ability to cough or expel the wine. "Drink it all, you greedy slut," he hissed. "We want you nice and sweet for what's to come."

YooA whimpered helplessly, the wine spilling from the corners of her mouth and down her chin, drenching the front of her already-revealing dress. On her other side, Mr. Owl began roughly groping her thigh, spreading her legs apart.

"Look at those pretty little panties," he cooed, his fingers hooking into the lace waistband. "This is going to be fun."

YooA tried to struggle, to beg for them to stop, but the men's grips and the drugs coursing through her veins left her utterly powerless. All she could do was pray that this nightmare would end soon.

As the bottle drained, nearly half the wine now coating YooA's face and dress, Mr. Bear finally pulled it from her mouth. YooA coughed, gasping desperately for air.

"W-What... What are you doing!?" she croaked, eyes wide with fear and confusion.

Mr. Rabbit chuckled. "Why, giving you the sponsorship opportunity of a lifetime, my dear." He reached down, grasping her foot and lifting it off the ground. "Just be a good little doll and behave for us."

With a swift motion, he removed her high heel, exposing her toned, glistening leg. Mr. Bear grinned, pouring the remainder of the wine down her smooth flesh.

"Look at these gorgeous legs," Mr. Bear grinned as he poured the remaining wine down YooA's leg, the liquid trailing from her toes up to her trembling thigh. "Look at this, fellas, the perfect canvas for us to play on."

Next to him, Mr. Owl suddenly yanked up the hem of YooA's dress, further exposing her lacy panties. The idol let out a strangled scream, but the men only laughed.

"Aw, don't be shy, sweetheart," Mr. Bear crooned, pausing to lightly trace the bottle's rim along her inner thigh. "We're just getting started."

On YooA's leg, Mr. Rabbit unzipped his trousers, pulling out his hard, throbbing cock. "Mmm, feels good to be free," he groaned, rubbing the underside against the sole of her wine-dampened foot.

YooA whimpered, her body trembling as the men's depraved touches sent waves of revulsion through her.

YooA cried out in terror as Mr. Bear slowly traced the bottle's rim along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, inching ever closer to her covered sex. "Please, stop! I'll behave, I promise, just don't hurt me!" she pleaded.

Mr. Bear chuckled. "We aren't going to hurt you. We're going to make you feel so good."

With that, Mr. Owl yanked her leg wider, while on her other side Mr. Rabbit continued rubbing his throbbing cock against her wine-dampened foot.

From behind the sofa, Mr. Fox suddenly wrapped his arm around YooA's neck, squeezing her perky breasts through the clingy fabric of her dress. "That's it, struggle for us, little doll.”.

YooA whimpered as Mr. Bear's free hand moved to the hem of her panties, slowly pulling them aside to expose her slick pink pussy. With agonizing slowness, he pressed the bottle's neck against her sensitive flesh, gradually pushing it past her delicate folds.

“So tight and wet for us already," the burly man bellowed. "This is going to be fun."

Despite her desperate pleas, YooA felt the unyielding glass of the wine bottle slowly breaching her tight entrance. Inch by inch, the thick, rigid neck disappeared into her pussy, delicate folds clinging to like rubber.

A shameful deep moan escaped the idol’s lips as waves of unwanted burning pleasure began to wash over her. Disgusted with her body's betrayal, she realized these guys must have drugged her with some kind of aphrodisiac drug. She thrashed her head back and forth, but the intensely pleasurable sensations only seemed to amplify.

"No, no, it's too deep!" she cried out, fixing a pleading, tear-filled gaze on Mr. Bear. "Please, take it out!"

But the burly man simply grinned, his piggish eyes gleaming with sadistic delight as he ignored her cries. Gripping the base of the bottle, he began to slowly, mercilessly thrust it in and out of her wet pussy.

“Look at that," his voice thick with lust. "Our little doll is enjoying herself more than she wants to admit."

YooA let out a wretched sob, her hips involuntarily rocking against the relentless intrusion. She was powerless to stop the rising tide of illicit, drug-fueled arousal, her treacherous body betraying her even as her mind reeled in utter disgust.

YooA's back arched sharply, her toes curling as the crushing tide of shameful pleasure rolled through her. She could feel a tight, insistent knot building deep within her core, slowly unraveling and flowing downwards towards her aching core.

The wine bottle sloshed and squelched as Mr. Bear continued his relentless, punishing thrusts, the thick glass stretching and filling her in ways she had never imagined. Beside her, Mr. Rabbit groaned in ecstasy, his hips bucking as he rubbed his throbbing cock against the sole of her foot.

"Ungh, fuck... so good," the masked man rasped, his voice dripping with lust. "I'm gonna cum all over your pretty little toes, slut..."

YooA sobbed bitterly, her body betraying her as the sensations built to an unbearable crescendo. She tried to resist, to hold back the rising wave of her own impending orgasm, but it was a futile battle. When Mr. Owl suddenly rolled her swollen, sensitive clit with his thumb, her dam burst.

"Aaahh! Noooo..." she wailed, her voice cracking as her entire body convulsed. Waves of shattering, drug-fueled ecstasy crashed over her, her pussy fluttering wildly around the unyielding bottle. "It's too much... Ooohh, God, it feels so good...!"

The men erupted in raucous laughter, their cruel triumph echoing across the open rooftop as they reveled in YooA's complete and utter surrender.

Still in a dazed, drug-hazed state, YooA felt the wine bottle abruptly pulled from her sensitive pussy with a ‘pop’. Before she could react, Mr. Bear roughly seized a handful of her hair, yanking her forward and down onto her knees in front of the couch.

The other masked men had already freed their throbbing, rigid cocks, lining up before the helpless idol. Mr. Rabbit, who had already been on the edge, shoved his shaft straight into YooA's open, gasping mouth.

"Ungh, fuck yeah!" he groaned, bucking his hips to bury himself deep in her throat.

YooA gagged and choked around his intrusion, her makeup streaming down her face as he ruthlessly face-fucked her. On either side, Mr. Fox and Mr. Owl grabbed her hands, guiding them to wrap around their own straining cocks.

"That's it, jerk us off, baby," Mr. Fox snarled, his hips jerking as she stroked him. "Show us what those pretty hands can do."

YooA moaned in despair, her entire being flooded with shame at her helplessness but her treacherous drugged body craved the overwhelming sensations, and she found herself involuntarily pleasuring the depraved men surrounding her.

Mr. Rabbit let out a hoarse roar as his climax overtook him, his hips stuttering as he unloaded a thick torrent of cum directly down YooA's throat. The stunned idol gagged and choked, but the ecstatic man held her head in place, forcing her to swallow every last drop.

"You filthy slut, drink it all down!" he ordered, finally pulling his cockfree with a wet 'pop.'

Beside her, Mr. Fox and Mr. Owl let out twin groans, their faces contorting in bliss as they coated YooA's delicate features with their pent-up release. Thick ropes of pearly white cum splattered across her flushed cheeks, dripping down her chin and nose.

Despite her revulsion, YooA found herself oddly aroused. The aphrodisiac still coursing through her veins had her body aching to be used and defiled. Almost without thinking, she slowly licked her lips, desperately trying to lap up the men's fresh seed.

“You love the taste, don't you?" Mr. Owl chuckled, tracing a finger through the cum on her cheek and pushing it into her eager mouth. "What a depraved whore you are."

YooA moaned around his digit, sucking it clean as her hazy gaze silently begged for more of their degrading attention.

"Well now, it seems our doll is ready for the main event," Mr. Snake who had been chilling since earlier rose from the couch. With a wave of his hand, the others seized YooA, hoisting her up onto the table at the center of the group.

The cool polished surface kissed her bare skin as the men spread her legs in a wide, lewd stance. YooA whimpered, fresh tears stinging her eyes as she took in the sight of the men lining up before her, their thick cocks jutting out in unabashed lust.

Mr. Bear stepped up first, his massive member twitching in anticipation. Grabbing YooA's thighs, he leaned in until the swollen head of his cock brushed against her sopping entrance.

"Look at how desperate your pussy is," dragging his length through her slick folds before abruptly plunging himself fully inside with one savage thrust.

YooA's mouth fell open in a silent scream of mingled pain and illicit pleasure. Mr. Bear set a rapid pace, his huge cock filling and stretching her so completely.

Meanwhile, Mr. Rabbit clambered up onto the table, straddling YooA's face. "Open up, slut," he commanded, smearing the glistening head of his cock across her gasping lips.

With no other choice, YooA obeyed, her throat constricting as Rabbit fed his thick length into her mouth. Above her, the musty scent of his crotch flooded her senses, making her head spin.

The sounds of flesh smacking against flesh and the men's grunts of exertion filled the air as YooA was ruthlessly pounded from both ends. A shamed part of her reveled in being used as their depraved cock sleeve.

Suddenly, Mr. Bear threw back his head, letting loose a feral roar. His cock swelled within YooA's walls, giving her womb a thick, scalding creampie as he reached his rapturous peak.

Even as his climax tapered off, he continued to grind into the battered idol, until at last he pulled free with an obscene popping sound.

"Who's next for her greedy tight holes?" the hulking man grinned, patting YooA's cum-soaked pussy.

Without waiting for an answer, Mr. Snake took Mr. Bear's place, immediately pounding her deep and hard.

"Mmmpphh!!" YooA protested, her words dissolving into a gargled whimper as Mr. Rabbit's thick length invaded her throat. He seized a fistful of her hair, using it as a handle to roughly fuck her face.

Each punishing thrust drove his cock deeper, the bulbous head visibly distending the tender column of YooA's neck. She gagged and choked around the intrusion, drool and pre-cum leaking from the corners of her stretched lips.

"Oh fuck yeah," Rabbit groaned, his tempo increasing to a brutal, piston-like rhythm. On either side, Mr. Owl and Mr. Fox seized YooA's hands, guiding her fingers around their stiffening shafts.

The lewd sound of Rabbit's sac slapping against YooA's chin mingled with the wet squelches of Mr. Snake's hips smacking into her womb. Tears streamed from the idol's eyes as she struggled for air between Rabbit's thrusts.

Each time Mr. Rabbit bottomed out, his cock buried to the root, a faint bulge could be seen traveling up the taut flesh of YooA's abdomen. Her abused folds were a mess of stretched and frayed petals, soaked in a mixture of her feminine juices and the copious seed pumped into her by the men.

Yet through the pain and degradation, a part of YooA's traitorous body still craved sensation. Her raw, aching clit throbbed hotly, as if begging for attention.

Mr. Snake relished the sight of YooA's tormented, cock-stuffed face, gleefully adding to her violation. As he savagely pummeled her spasming cunt, he reached down with his free hand, locating her swollen, pulsing pearl.

He roughly pinched the sensitive bud between his fingers. "You may hate what we're doing, but your slut of a body loves being used as a fucktoy!"

YooA's muffled wails of protest dissolved into a strangled cry of masochistic ecstasy as Mr. Snake rolled and tugged at her clit in time with his ferocious thrusts. Her slick canal clenched and fluttered wantonly around his invading cock.

On her face, Mr. Rabbit redoubled his brutal face-fucking, slamming his entire length down her throat again and again. YooA's eyes rolled back, her petite frame wracked with convulsions as her first explosive orgasm crashed over her.

Cunt juices gushed from her abused hole, drenching Mr. Snake's pistoning cock and puddling on the table beneath her. The sensations were so intense, so all-consuming that YooA nearly blacked out from the pleasure.

Her scream of release was muffled by Rabbit's cock, but it only seemed to spur the men on further. Mr. Owl and Mr. Fox rapidly stroked their cocks with YooA's limp hands, their shafts now achingly hard and ready to ravage her well-used cunt next.

As soon as Mr. Snake pulled free, they eagerly lined up on either side of the quivering idol's hips, their cockheads smearing through the mess of her femcum and Mr. Snake’s still-oozing seed.

Mr. Rabbit unleashed a satisfied scream, yanking YooA's hair with force as his climax arrived. His cock swelled and pulsed, blasting thick ropes of hot jism straight down the poor idol's rawly abused throat.

YooA squirmed and thrashed, nearly choking on the copious load flooding her mouth and nasal passages before Rabbit finally relented, pulling free. The stunned woman collapsed back onto the table, gasping as Rabbit's seed spilled from her gaping lips.

Wasting no time, Mr. Fox immediately seized his opportunity. He clambered up onto the table, not even giving YooA a chance to catch her breath before shoving his rigid length past her gasping lips.

"Gggkkk!" she gurgled, frantically pushing against his thighs as his cock burrowed into her throat.

Mr. Fox grinned wickedly, basking in the delicious sight and sensation of her struggles. Meanwhile, Mr. Owl stepped between YooA's trembling legs. Leaning forward, he rammed his cock to the base inside her abused, cum-drenched cunt.

YooA bucked and wailed around Fox's invading cock, her body quaking with unwanted ecstasy.

Not satisfied with her muffled protests, Mr. Owl snatched YooA's wrists, using her arms as levers to drive deeper into her velvet sheath on each thrust. The table beneath them shook and creaked from the pressure.

Mr. Fox matched Owl's brutal rhythm, jackhammering his rigid length into YooA's throat while his hands closed around her heaving breasts. With a few sharp tugs, the flimsy fabric of her dress gave way, exposing her firm tits.

Above her, Mr. Owl leered down, savoring the sight of their helpless little doll getting ruthlessly spit-roasted. There was no tenderness in their touches, only savage hunger being slaked by their violation of the degraded idol.

On the sidelines, Mr. Snake, Mr. Bear, and Mr. Rabbit looked on with smug joy, leisurely drinking beers and stroking their thickening cocks as they prepared for another round with YooA's battered form.

"Fuck, look at that slut getting the dicking she deserves," Mr. Snake sneered, giving his cock a few hard strokes. "These idols act so prim and innocent on stage, but they're all just cockcraving cumdumps underneath."

"This cheap piece of pussy won't even remember her own name by the time we're done with her," Mr. Bear grinned, downing another gulp of wine.

In the center of their lascivious attentions, YooA could only whimper and twitch as Mr. Owl bottomed out, giving one final thrust to bury his twitching cock as deep as it would go. With a growl, he emptied his load into her convulsing cunt.

The stunning idol's back arched, her glazed eyes rolling back as the hot torrent of cum flooding her already-stuffed womb triggered an intense climax. Her slender thighs trembled uncontrollably, her hands weakly clutching at the table beneath her.

At the same time, Mr. Fox grunted, slamming his balls on her nose and letting his own thick ropes of cum plaster YooA's tongue and throat. Her body heaving with sobs, she had no choice but to swallow the acrid offering, thick strands leaking from the corners of her mouth.

Once they'd drained the last spurts from their cocks, Mr. Fox and Mr. Owl pulled out, chuckling at the wrecked state they'd left the once proud idol in. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her smooth skin glazed with sweat. Both holes leaked a steady trickle of their combined spend.

Yet as she lay there, mewling and twitching from the overstimulation, her lust-addled body betrayed her anew as the men's hungry gazes roved over her trembling form. Their arousal was clear in the renewed stiffness of their cocks, YooA's degradation only stoking the fires of their insatiable debauchery.

The savage men weren't even close to satiating their debased hunger for YooA's broken body. With rough hands, they hauled her up from the table, dragging the limp idol over to the nearby sofa.

She offered no resistance, too overwhelmed by the sickening mixture of humiliation and unwanted ecstasy pulsing through her veins. Leering smiles creased their lust-twisted features as they shoved YooA face-down over the sofa's arm, leaving her ass lewdly presented in the air.

"Stay just like that, you worthless fuckpig," Mr. Fox barked, sinking one foot atop the back of YooA's head to grind her pretty face into the cushions.

Mr. Bear and Mr. Rabbit seized her wrists, wrenching her slender arms straight back in a brutal parody of the spreadeagle position. Helpless, YooA jerked as the remnants of her tattered dress were ripped away, leaving her nude body completely on display.

SMACK! SMACK!

Stinging slaps blossomed color across her already-reddened ass cheeks as one of the men reared back to spank and spread her trembling rump. YooA cried out, her voice muffled against the sofa, her muscles tensing.

"Better keep her steady, boys," Mr. Snake chuckled, dribbling a line of thick lube down the crease bisecting YooA's ass toward her tight, puckered sphincter. "This little anal slut's gonna be thrashing like a bronco once I get my cock up that tight back door."

With an anticipatory grin, he gave his achingly stiff cock a few more lube-slick strokes before lining the bulbous head up against YooA's rear entrance. Without any further preamble, he gripped her hips and slowly leaned his weight forward, steadily breaching and widening her for the harsh sodomy to come.

"Hhnngghh!!" The strangled cry was torn from YooA's lips, muffled against the couch cushions beneath her face.

Mr. Snake's thick cock stretched her virgin sphincter unbearably wide, each agonizing inch spearing deeper into her unutilized back passage. She squirmed and thrashed against the men's restraining grips, the sinister laughs surrounding her only driving home her utter helplessness.

"Aww, what's the matter, slut?" sneered Mr. Rabbit from where he pinned one of YooA's arms. "I thought you idol whores were used to taking it up the ass from your sugar daddies."

"She's so goddamn tight!" grunted Snake through gritted teeth as he bottomed out, his pelvis smacking loudly against YooA's quivering asscheeks. "Fuck, this needy tight asshole is just begging to be ruined!"

He pulled back slightly, savoring the feverish clench of her rubbery ring before slamming his hips forward again, jackhammering YooA's unprepared rear with frenzied rabbit thrusts.

Each vicious stroke drew a pained weeping, her face contorting in a rictus of torment that only seemed to inflame the men's sadistic urges further.

"Look at this bitch's face!" Bear cackled, wrenching YooA's neck back by the hair to expose her agonized expression to their lewd gazes. "She looks like she might actually cry!"

"Then give the whore something to really sob about," Fox growled, forcing his spit-slick cock past YooA's swollen, parted lips to gag her howls of distress once more.

Her lashes fluttered and mascara streamed from the corners of her eyes, decorating her rouged cheeks with blackened rivulets of overflowing tears. Yet there was no mercy to be found in Snake's vicious rutting, nor any escape from the renewed degradation being forced upon her by Fox's fat dick pistoning in and out of her throat.

YooA's entire body kept quivering, her tortured hole spasming around Mr. Snake's relentlessly pistoning cock until he slammed himself fully in. Ropes of fresh thick cum erupted from his twitching cock, flooding her ruined bowels with degrading spurts.

"Hnngghh!!" Snake groaned, his fingertips digging deep into the flesh of YooA's hips as he emptied his harrowing load.

At the same time, Mr. Fox grinned and seized her disheveled brown hair in his fist before burying himself to the root. Another debased grunt, then the battered idol's mouth was filled with his rank, salty spend.

"Gkkhkk!!" she choked and gurgled, stringy ropes of Fox's ejaculate splattering over her tongue and cheeks until his orgasm subsided. She swallowed forcefully, her features glazed with a sheen of perspiration and streaked with mascara-stained tears.

Mr. Snake finally pulled free with a slick pop, leaving YooA's violated pucker gaping, the pearly ring stretched and swollen around the lewd cream pie slowly leaking from her abused chute.

No longer needing to keep her steady, Bear and Rabbit released her arms, allowing her body to go limp. But there was no respite for the broken woman.

"Up you go, fuckdoll," Mr. Bear growled, hauling YooA up by her waist and throwing her shuddering form down atop the couch once more, on all fours. He wasted no time in mounting behind her, his thick cock spearing into her freshly-reamed asshole with one brutal thrust.

"AAAIIIEEE!!" The shriek tore from YooA's raw throat as Mr. Bear hammered her with savage abandon, his palm cracking off her ass cheeks. Yet it was quickly muffled as Mr. Owl seized her by the hair, wrenching her face back to glare into his smirking visage.

"You want the juicy sponsorships, don't you slut?" he sneered, slapping his cock across her gasping lips. "Let's hear you fucking beg for them then.”

YooA's eyes rolled back, nearly catatonic from the degradation and mind-shattering sensations racking her abused form. But coherent words still managed to gurgle past her drool-slicked lips between Mr. Owl's facefucking strokes.

"P...Please... give me... your... sponsorsh-shipsss, s-sirs!" she whimpered subserviently between gags. "I'll d-do... anything!"

Mr. Rabbit snickered, palming his rock-hard cock as he dropped down onto the couch beneath YooA's swaying hips, aligning his cock beneath her cum-dribbling pussy.

"Like taking my thick cock into this loose, fucked-out hole, bitch?" he taunted, punctuating each crude word with a hard slap of his shaft across her splayed pussy lips. "Beg me for my fucking cum, you desperate cumslut!"

"P-Please... gkkkhh!!" YooA's desperate plea was immediately cut off as Mr. Owl shoved his thick cock between her lips, using her momentary vocalization as an excuse to gag her airway with his girth.

Her eyes bulged, spit and drool streaming down her chin as he face-fucked her roughly. Yet still she persisted, her words garbled and barely intelligible around the vicious throat-strokes.

"I... n-need... hnrrghh... your cummm!! G-give it... gkk... to meee!!"

Beneath her, Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Bear snapped with twisted amusement at her degrading submission. In one harsh thrust, Rabbit buried his entire cock inside YooA's sloppy, cum-drenched cunt, her raw flesh offering barely any resistance.

At the same instant, Bear doubled down on ravaging her thoroughly ruined asshole, his hips smacking loudly against her reddened cheeks on each stroke. The dual intrusions stretched YooA's petite frame cruelly taut, impaled by rampant cocks brutally spitting her worn holes.

"Keep begging, bitch!" Mr. Rabbit jeered, his heavy sac swinging to slap against YooA's swollen outer lips. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back to arc her spine even more severely.

The new angle allowed him to jackhammer up into her abused quim with merciless force, his cock stretching her tender canal as it sought ever deeper purchase with each shaprp pounding.

Mr. Bear matched his counterpart's ferocious rhythm, battering YooA's defenseless ass just as viciously as his pelvis audibly slap against her ass cheeks. Their girthy cocks pummeled in tandem, turning the sobbing woman into a thoroughly defiled cock-sleeve uselessly whimpering around Mr. Owl's spit-soaked dick.

"Sh-Shponshorsss... hunghhh... pleashshhh... GHHKK!!" YooA gurgled and drooled around Owl's skull-fucking thrusts, barely able to form coherent words. Yet perversely, with each desperate utterance, the men's pace only quickened, driving her body into a quivering frenzy.

YooA's eyes rolled back, her pummeled throat spasming around Mr. Owl's cock as he unleashed his virulent load. Thick, acrid cords of cum blasted over her lolling tongue, the volume so excessive she could do little but let it slather over her lips and stream down her chin

“The fuck are you doing?! Swallow it all.” Mr. Owl shouted angrily, his fingers digging into YooA's scalp as he pumped her mouth full of his waste.

Despite his vicious demand, the poor woman was utterly choked, simply allowing the foul load to drip and dribble from her stretched lips as her beaten frame was wracked with involuntary convulsions.

"Grrrkkk... unnghh... more... need... moreeee..." she rasped mindlessly around the soupy mess clogging her throat, her cunt and ass somehow still hungrily milking for more seed deep inside.

And her degraded wish was soon granted, as Mr. Rabbit felt his climax nearing its peak between the vice-like clenches of her pussy.

"Fuck, this needy tight pussy is gonna wring the soul outta my cock!" He piston-slamming into the sloppy mess of YooA's ravaged sex.

Each thrust drove a fresh gout of the previous loads' cum out in a frothy, splattery spray, only to slurp back inside with the next invading slide. Mr. Rabbit could feel the swollen flesh of her over-abused walls still desperately rippling around him, foolishly craving his defiling seed.

"Aiiieeee!! Oh god! G-gonna get... knocked up... by t-these awfulll cockksss!!" YooA shrieked with delirium, her face a mess of smeared make-up and sticky ejaculate hanging in weeping gobs from her chin.

Without warning, Mr. Rabbit erupted, blasting scalding strings of cum directly against her cervix. At nearly the same instant, Mr. Bear arched his back with a roar of release, painting the woman's rectum an equal shade of obscene alabaster.

YooA screamed and thrashed through her brutal dual creampie, her distended lower abdomen rippling visibly as they used her like a mere cum receptacle.

As Mr. Bear and Mr. Rabbit withdrew their cocks from YooA's filled holes with wet pops, allowing thick runnels of their acrid cream to immediately gush from her gaping, ruined openings to the floor.

Mr. Rabbit huffed,"Get this worthless sow off the couch," shoving YooA's cum-glazed form with his knee until she tumbled limply to the carpet.

The woman idol barely move, her muscles twitching uselessly as her broken mind swam in a haze of degradation and bliss. But there was no pause to be had.

In an instant Mr. Snake was on her, seizing YooA's matted hair in his fist, using it to haul her body up until she was trembling on boneless legs, shoulders hunched and torso leaning shakily against the couch.

With a single thrust, Snake slammed his thick cock fully into her thoroughly gaped asshole once more.

“Oughhh!!" YooA shrieked, the harsh re-entry into her sensitive bowels like a lightning bolt of ecstasy-tinged pain. But her cry was cut off as Mr. Fox stepped around in front of her, gripping her jaw in his hands.

"You love getting fucked like a cheap whore now, don't you bitch?" Fox asked with cruel amusement and slapped YooA's flushed cheek, leaving an angry red welt. "Shit, you're leaking like a faucet. I bet this loose pussy needs another big load.”

Choking her briefly until stars burst in YooA's vision, Mr. Fox then grasped the underside of her thighs and hoisted her legs apart, easily sliding his rock-hard cock into the frothy, cum-drenched mess of her cunt.

"Mmfff... yessshh... fffuckkk... mooore... cummm..." the woman slurred drunkenly, half-delirious from the shattering violation. Her body was utterly suspended between Mr. Snake and Mr. Fox's rutting motions, yanked back-and-forth while ruthlessly bounced on their piercing cocks.

The sounds of their flesh smacking together mingled with YooA's ecstasy-pained moans and the men's contemptuous laughter in a symphony of pure debasement. And not a single shred of her dignity remained.

The two animals sandwiched YooA between them, showing zero mercy as they brutally used her body as a human fuck-doll. Their thrusts jackhammered her stretched figure in opposite directions, turning her into a ragdoll pinned on their dueling cocks.

"Ghhkkk!! Too... b-big!! Hurtsss!! So good!!" The sobbing idol gurgled, her skull lolling as Mr. Snake's fat girth pummeled the deepest confines of her bowels with harsh strokes that seemed to split her in two.

Her sphincter was a wide, gaping circle of swollen flesh uselessly fluttering around the invasion stretching it unnaturally agape.

His pelvis smacked loudly against YooA's cherry-red asscheeks, adding more angry welts and discoloration to the map of her abject suffering. Perversely, the crescendos of searing pain wracking her backside were punctuated by shudders of ecstasy as her ass was so ruthlessly plowed.

Mr. Fox matched his friend’s depraved rhythm, driving upwards to impale YooA on his cock with just as much uncaring force. Her hammered pussy has become a sloppy, cum-drenched mess of overstuffed folds, the juices of her violations squelching audibly as Fox rutted into her.

"Yeah, you hear how fucking wet this whore's cunt is?" Mr. Fox emphasized his vulgarity with a series of sharp slaps across YooA's jiggling boobs. "She's practically pissing femcum at the thought of getting pumped full of more jizz!”

Beneath them, a lurid puddle of their combined fluid was slowly spreading, expelled from YooA's reddened, distended holes with each cruel penetration.

"Mmmnn... c-cummm... leaking outtbb... stopphhh!!" she pleaded through the haze of delirious elation, only to be silenced as Mr. Snake seized a fistful of her hair and wrenched her neck back painfully. The brute force only allowed him to plunge with even more vicious depth.

"Grrnnghhh... gonna coreload this cockwhore proper!" Mr. Snake hissed, sweat beading his brow while the thick veins along his turgid cock throbbed visibly with each inhumanly powerful stroke. "Right up that slutty fucking babyhole!”

YooA's nails dug deep crescents into the straining muscles of Mr. Fox's shoulders as the dual pistoning drove her over the edge. She wailed like a woman possessed, thrown mercilessly into the throes of a shattering climax that shook her very core.

"Harder... h-harder! I'm... I'MMMMGGHHNNNFFFF!!" The words dissolved into a bestial cry that rang through the room, her arched spine bending near its breaking point as her high peaked.

Both her holes clenched with convulsive, rippling spasms around the sadistic cocks defiling her - clenched as if her very life depended on milking them for their fresh, degrading seed.

And the two men were all too happy to oblige, sneering with twisted satisfaction as they felt her holes tighten around them. Mr. Snake wrapped his bulging arms crushingly tight around YooA's midriff, holding her helplessly impaled.

Mr. Fox, meanwhile, dug his claws deep into the soft flesh beneath YooA's quivering thighs, lifting and spreading her stiffened lower body wide as he prepared to unload his batter as deep as it would go.

"Take the fucking breeding you wanted so bad, you sloppy whore!" Me. Fox spat, arching his back as he pulled the shrieking woman down atop him with one conclusive, punishing thrust.

At the same time, Mr. Snake unleashed a throaty groan of delight, burying his cock fully inside YooA's bowels before flooding them with new layers of warm cum. His load churned and sloshed inside her heaving abdomen as he emptied his heavy balls.

The violated idol's eyes rolled back until only the whites were visible in her skull. Drool and mascara-tinted streaks of ejaculate trailed down her gaping maw in an unsightly mess as she was overwhelmed one final time, her wits shattered beyond repair.

When at last they'd drained their final spurts into her well-used, cum-stuffed form, the men simply let go, letting YooA collapse to the couch in a boneless, twitching heap. Thick runnels of their spend immediately began dribbling from her ruined, gaping holes to pool beneath her limp thighs.

"Damn, I think we finally broke this celebrity slut properly," laughed Mr. Bear with satisfaction, reaching down to shove the sticky strands of cum oozing from YooA's entrance with his fingertips and rubbing her swollen red clit with it.

"I could go for another round though - who wants sloppy thirds on this greedy broken cocksleeve?" Asked Mr. Owl, excited.

"Shit, I think we're well past sloppy thirds at this point," Mr. Rabbit chuckled, eyeing YooA's glistening form with a mixture of smug satisfaction and lingering lust. "That fucktoy's pretty much been run through the entire gangbang gauntlet."

He sighed heavily, already tucking himself back into his trousers with deft fingers. "As much as I'd kill to go another few rounds on that perfectly trained idol pussy, I've got to dip out. Got an overseas deal going down tonight that needs my attention."

A series of agreement followed from Mr. Snake and Mr. Fox as they too began redressing, putting on their suits and slacks with casual nonchalance. As enticing as the thought of further violating their celebrity cumdump was, business matters ultimately took priority.

"Yeah, that Taiwanese shit isn't gonna take care of itself," Mr. Snake grunted, smoothing back his sweat-damp hair. "Plus, the night's still young - no reason we can't find some fresh fuckmeat once we're done working."

The three men shared a round of dark, rumbling laughter at the thought, utterly unmoved by YooA's unconscious, abused, and decidedly well-used state now adorning the soiled sofa cushions.

With a few parting leers and crude gestures, each bent down to unceremoniously snap a few close-up photos of her swollen holes still dribbling their copious loads, as well as her debauched features.

Mr. Snake smirked as he tucked his phone away. "Don't forget to end the recording properly once you two are done, and send us copies," he reminded Mr. Bear and Mr. Owl, the only ones remaining behind. "I want crispy 4K footage of tonight's A-List celebrity whore.”

Bear and Owl both smirked in response, their attention turning toward the discreetly-mounted video camera in the corner of the opulent penthouse suite.

They'd been so caught up in the raucous, heated depravity, the fact that every lecherous act had been meticulously captured for their private collections had momentarily slipped their minds.

With a conspiratorial nod, Bear grabbed YooA's limp wrist, slowly guiding her arm up until her swaying fingertips were aimed directly at the camera lens like the world's most sordid puppet display.

Bear grinned at Owl, his grip tightening around YooA's wrist to make her fingers waggle towards the camera.

The lens captured every lurid detail of her totally degraded state - from the disheveled chestnut tresses matted with sweat and cum, to the utter violence enacted upon her once-pristine holes now gaping and seeded full to brimming.

"This little whore isn't going to wake up for a long while after the utter fucking we gave her," Mr. Bear mused, his free hand pawing at YooA's boobs, streaked with inflamed welt marks and rapidly-blooming bruises.

"Just think when she finally comes to, she will have scored that coveted sponsorship deal she was begging for. But at what cost? This is gonna be hilarious.” Mr. Owl laughed loudly, wrenching YooA's head upright by her hair so the camera could take in her euphoric yet harrowed expression.

"Well, in her line of 'work', being an absolute fuckpig on the casting couch is basically a prerequisite," Mr. Owl sneered, giving YooA's tits a few harsh, stinging slaps to watch the flesh ripple.

The two men guffawed as if sharing some long-standing inside joke, all the while manipulating YooA's insensate puppet form to give the camera a final, unambiguous view between her legs.

"Well, I'd say our work here is done...for now," Mr. Bear punctuating that ambiguous remark by sliding two fingers into YooA's sloppy slit and stirring them in a spiral. The idol offered zero reaction, though a few fresh gouts of jism immediately trickled free from her overstuffed crevices.

"Atta girl. Keep dribbling out those sponsorship loads like a good cumdump," he cooed tauntingly, turning his twisted smile back towards the camera lens. "We'll make sure to give this little dickprincess the launchpad to true fame after putting her through a few more 'auditions' over the next few days and nights."

As the two men threw back their heads with harsh, victorious bouts of laughter, the recording feed flickered to an abrupt, unsettling black, leaving YooA's ultimate fate as a broken starlet a mystery to the outside world.

#kpop smut #male reader #kpop gg #girl group smut #kpop fanfic #non con smut #oh my girl yooa #yooa smut #oh my girl smut #oh my girl #commissioned work #kpop girls

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strangererotica · 23 hours

Text

Soft!dom Eddie x Sub!Reader • Dom!Steve x Sub!Reader • Perv!Dirty Cop!Hopper x Reader

SMUT SMUT SMUT, minors DNI • Includes established MFM relationship, mentions of drugs & incarceration, abuse of power, spanking, rough sex with aftercare, angst, sex in the Blazer. Hopper is a manipulative asshole in this fic; only proceed if you’re comfortable reading his character from that perspective. <3

Eddie sat down heavily, frustrated, on the edge of the bed. He’d been in a weird mood all day, but it seemed his negative attitude had reached a peak. “Over my lap,” he ordered. You smirked back at him in silence, leaning with your ass against the dresser a few feet away. You weren’t going to budge.

Eddie’s eyebrows lifted at your audacity, his big eyes blinking back at you in surprise. He sat forward slightly, palms closed over his knees. “Okay,” he conceded. “You wanna be a brat, that’s fine. I’ll tell Steve when he gets home, let him deal with you…”

You winced, knowing from experience that if Steve delivered your punishment, you wouldn’t be able to sit comfortably for days. Steve’s hands were bigger than Eddie’s, and he had fewer reservations than Eddie did when it came to leaving marks.

Eddie’s lips twisted into a smug grin as you reluctantly made your way over to him, pulling your panties down. “That’s what I thought,” he teased. Eddie guided you onto his lap, your stomach resting over his thighs, head dipped toward the floor. He lightly groped the fat of your left cheek, before drawing back his hand and spanking you.

The sting was minimal, but the burn left in the wake of Eddie’s hand radiated through your muscles. A little shiver ran down your spine as Eddie’s breath blew cool between your shoulders. “What am I being punished for, Sir?” you asked. Eddie chuckled above you.

“You really don’t know?” he asked, before spanking you again. “Thats kind of adorable. You take my hand so well-.” *smack!* “-And you don’t even know what you’re being punished for. Just that I know what’s best for you…” *smack*

Eddie was switching between both sides of your ass, rubbing away the sting each of his strikes left behind. You were grateful for Eddie’s punishment and not Steve’s, because unlike Eddie, Steve never participated in any kind of aftercare. That was Eddie’s job; Steve left the tenderness up to him.

After fucking you into a wet, contented mess, Steve would just leave the room. He’d pull out of whichever of your holes he’d just obliterated, leaving you sloppy and swollen, letting his cum drip all over the place as he staggered off to the shower. Eddie’s job was to clean you up, to soothe your wounds after a particularly rough session, and to make you feel safe. Eddie would lick you head to toe, cleaning Steve’s cum off your skin and from inside whichever hole Steve had used.

You’d sometimes come again while Eddie was cleaning you up, and he’d give you lots of praises and encouragement for doing so. He’d kiss your pussy and tell you, from between your slick, quivering thighs, what a good job you’d done making Steve happy, and making him happy, too.

Eddie would then pull you into his arms and cuddle you to sleep. You’d drift off in the safety of his arms, with the comforting feeling of Eddie’s cock pulsing against your ass. When he was sure you were asleep, Eddie would carefully exit the bed and go relieve himself in the bathroom.

“Such a good girl,” he said softly, caressing the sensitive skin of your ass. “I’ll bet when people see you out and about in Hawkins, they’d never guess what a little freak you are behind closed doors…”

Eddie groped your ass, messaging away the pain. You shifted on his lap, his stiffening cock poking uncomfortably against your ribs.

“I’ll tell you,” Eddie said. “Why you had to be punished.” He guided you off his lap and seated you beside him on the bed. You waited for Eddie’s explanation. “Last night,” he began. “When we were fucking…you called me Jim.”

It was difficult, but you managed to conceal the wave of dread that rushed through you. Shit.

“And it got me thinking…” Eddie continued, his tone cautious, displeased. “…Do we know anyone named Jim?”

You avoided Eddie’s eyes, fearing the look of suspicion you’d undoubtedly see in them.

“Or maybe the real question is…” Eddie sighed, wrapping his arm around you, a soft (but intentional) act of dominance. “…Who do you know named Jim?”

You swallowed, stalling, your mind scrambling to make up a suitable response. You wouldn’t tell Eddie the truth, of course. That you were secretly fucking a man name Jim behind both Eddie and Steve’s back…that Jim was Chief Jim Hopper. You couldn’t tell Eddie that you and the Chief had agreed upon an arrangement of sorts, one which existed in order to keep Eddie out of prison…

Your boyfriend was a drug dealer. Everyone in Hawkins basically knew this about Eddie; but he’d somehow avoided being charged for possessing or selling illegal substances. At least, until a few months ago. Chief Hopper had followed an anonymous tip that had told him where Eddie was currently crashing. The tip had brought Hopper straight to the door of your apartment complex. He’d parked his Blazer in front of the building, and waited for Eddie to emerge.

With every intention of arresting Eddie, Hopper had waited, and watched. But when Eddie did emerge from behind the door, he wasn’t alone. He was with you. And from the way you were hanging on Eddie, lifting on your tiptoes to reach his neck for a kiss, it was more than obvious to Hopper that you and Eddie were a couple.

A rather sinister idea was born in Hopper’s mind…that if you cared for Eddie as much as it appeared you did, you’d likely be willing to do whatever it took to keep him out of trouble. Hopper chose to postpone Eddie’s arrest until he’d had the chance to confront you in private. The following afternoon, Hopper waited for you to leave the apartment alone, and then made his move.

Under the guise of arresting you for drug possession, Hopper had gone through the whole cuffing process, making sure to grope you more than he needed to in his search for any ‘weapons’ you may have had on you. Hopper loaded you into his vehicle, but put you in the front seat beside him instead of the back. When you questioned him what evidence he had against you, Hopper explained that he was actually there for a different reason.

“That scumbag boyfriend of yours,” Hopper started, and left the sentence hanging as if it didn’t require a conclusion. You didn’t bother explaining to Hopper that you had two boyfriends, because it wasn’t necessary. Given Eddie’s reputation in Hawkins as a metal-loving, devil-worshiping, pothead deviant, assuming Hopper was referring to Eddie made sense.

To play off your nerves, you pretended not to know about Eddie’s drug usage or selling. Batting your lashes at Hopper in an attempt at naïveté, you hoped to throw him off any suspicion of Eddie (and by association, you and Steve also). “You mean Eddie?”

Hopper smirked back at you, digging a cigarette from his pocket. Your charm wasn’t working on him. “Yeah,” he replied dryly. “Who the fuck else would I mean?” Hopper rested the cigarette between his lips and held his lighter beneath its tip. You watched it bloom and crackle alight, your heart rate steadily increasing. You knew that if Eddie were to be arrested, the cops would likely have enough evidence to lock him away for a long time. And that terrified you.

Affirming the direction your thoughts were taking, Hopper explained, “Reason I’m here now, talking to you instead of Eddie, is because l see how much you care about him.”

Hopper exhaled smoke in front of him, looking ahead through the windshield as he spoke. “You don’t wanna see Eddie do time…hell, I don’t want to see the kid get locked up, either…”

That was a lie, and you knew it. Hopper didn’t give a shit about someone like Eddie. “But he does have some serious charges against him…some that could land him years behind bars.”

You shuddered at the thought of Eddie missing from your life. You and Steve would have each other, of course…but without Eddie’s softness, there would only be Steve’s roughness. The tenderness Eddie showed you, the cuddling, the warmth, the gentle punishment rather than harsh, would be gone. Your world would be a darker, lonelier place, without Eddie in it…

“So what can I do?” you asked, unprepared for what Hopper did next. “I mean, how can I help Eddie?”

The Chief removed his cigarette and licked his lips, a lecherous little smile replacing his former look of compassion. His tone was colored with a husky, suggestive darkness when he spoke, his hand moving to rest atop your thigh… “I’m sure you and I can work something out...”

You gazed down at Hopper’s hand, watching his fingers boldly trace further between your legs. He didn’t react when you called him a pig, and when you asked “are you really that fucking desperate for a woman to touch you?” Hopper laughed, unaffected.

“Trust me, sweetheart,” he assured you, taking another relaxed drag of his cigarette. “I don’t need this…” Hopper slipped his hand deeper, till he was cupping your cunt in his palm. You drew in a shocked breath.

“…But if you want your loser boyfriend to stay out of prison-.” Hopper continued, slipping his fingers under the fabric of your panties. “-You do need me…”

There was a pause between you, as Hopper awaited your response. He let his fingers glide between your lips, gently spreading your labia apart. When Hopper’s thumb pressed against your clit, a soft whimper left your lips before you could stop it. He snickered callously; Hopper’s ego was boundless.

“Fine,” you conceded, after weighing your options (you had none). “If you promise to keep Eddie safe.” Your jaw was tensed in a look of defiance.

Hopper nodded his approval, a triumphant, sick grin on his face. He removed his hand from between your thighs with a groan, and placed it on the gear shift. “Atta girl,” he muttered over his cigarette, and put the Blazer in reverse.

Hopper pulled out of the building’s parking lot, and drove you somewhere private, a place where no one would see how he touched you, how his fingers pumped in and out of you in time with the rhythm of your hand around his cock. No one knew that twice a week for the past three months, you’d been fucking the town’s Chief of Police in the back of his squad car. And what only you knew, not even Hopper, was that you liked it.

You’d liked it the first time, and every time since. Hopper was older than Steve and Eddie, and with those years came an experience that was obvious in the way he fucked you. Hopper didn’t just lick your pussy; he made out with it, sloppy, filthy tongue-fucking you, smearing your slick, saturating his beard in the wet heat of you. He’d come up for air just long enough to breathe, before burying his face between your thighs again. Hopper smothered himself against your cunt, lapping long stripes up and down your slit, consuming you like a man taking his first meal in days…

Hopper was hung, and he knew how to use what Mother Nature had equipped him with. When you rode him, Hopper was always able to buck up into you without hurting you. He had a control over his body that few men you’d been with could claim. Being an exceptionally cocky, dirty bastard may have had something to do with Hopper’s confidence; but regardless, he’d obviously had a lot of practice fucking women.

You wondered sometimes how many women Hopper had been with. You vaguely recalled the rumors you’d heard whispered around town about Hopper’s reputation for pumping and dumping the women of Hawkins. But somehow, the rumors had failed to include the fact that Jim Hopper was a goddamn pro when it came to fucking.

The backseat of his police Blazer was cramped, but he fucked too well for you to mind the location. You would have let him have you anywhere, regardless of how uncomfortable, dirty, or inconvenient the place. Being folded up and pinned under the weight of Hopper’s body, his strong arms locking you in place, filled you with a sick sense of security. However toxic he was as a human being, Hopper’s ability to bring your body to rapture was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. The twisted arrangement between you and Hopper had quickly begun to feel more like a relationship.

Even when you were being intimate with Eddie and Steve, you found yourself longing for Hopper. The bed your boyfriends fucked you in was soft and warm, all silk sheets and fluffy pillows, lavender-scented candles arranged at the bedside. It used to be your sanctuary, your favorite place in the world.

But now, what turned you on more than silk sheets was the feeling of your ass being rut into the sweaty, polyester backseat of Hopper’s car. In exchange of the soft romance of lavender, you preferred the scent of Hopper’s aftershave and stale cigarettes, the musk of his sweat dripping from his chest to yours as he fucked you...

— Eddie squeezed his arm around you tighter, and it shook you from your thoughts of Hopper. “So tell me, baby,” Eddie pressed, a poorly-concealed suspicion in his voice. “Who do you know named Jim…?”

You tried to laugh it off, telling Eddie he must have misinterpreted the sounds you were making. “I was moaning a lot,” you teased, trying to distract him. Eddie stared at you for a moment, as if waiting for you to confess something. When he realized he wasn’t going to get anymore information out of you, Eddie offered you his hand to leave the bed. “Doesn’t matter, pretty girl,” he said with pleasant tone. “What d’you say we smoke a little, watch some TV, then head to bed?” Eddie pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. When he pulled away, there was a sadness in his eyes that the artificial smile on his lips couldn’t hide.

“I’d like that,” you replied, taking Eddie’s hand. He glanced at the clock beside the bed. “It’s late,” Eddie observed. “Better get our fun in now; Steve’ll be home from work soon...”

Steve Harrington wasn’t a jealous man. Or perhaps more truthfully, he was jealous and simply refused to acknowledge it. The relationship you and Eddie had together irritated Steve, because it was a level of intimacy he himself had never been a part of.

Unlike Eddie, Steve was able to hold down a full time job. Being away from the apartment the three of you shared for eight hours a day meant that Eddie had access to you that Steve did not. Eddie’s current employment status was, officially, unemployed. Unofficially, Eddie was quite a successful local drug dealer. Steve normally would have had nothing to do with the kind of guy Eddie was…but you loved Eddie, for reasons Steve could only guess at.

Maybe you loved Eddie because he was gentle, soft in all the places Steve couldn’t be. If there was an emotional switch inside of himself that Steve could have flipped, to make him the kind of soft dominant that Eddie was, Steve would have flipped it in a heartbeat. All he wanted, was to be wanted exclusively by you.

Steve had grown up in a home where affection was scarce, and almost never expressed. Watching the shit show of a marriage his parents had, Steve decided early on that he never wanted to be tied down to any one person. He’d constructed walls around his heart to protect him from any relationship a woman could offer him beyond sex. Meeting you had been a life-altering experience for Steve. Because despite all the years he’d spent hardening his heart, you’d entered Steve’s life and demolished them instantly…

The problem was, Steve still had so much emotional baggage to rid himself of, before he could love you the way you deserved to be loved. He didn’t want to be the mature, stoic presence in your life forever; but it’s all he knew how to be. Steve wanted to romance you, to spend his family’s generous fortune on something that mattered for a change: on your happiness.

But the man you loved, whose arms you drifted to sleep in every night, was a drug-dealing freak. The complete opposite of Steve, who’d barely smoked a single joint in his life, let alone tried the harder drugs Eddie was fond of using and distributing...

Steve left work for the evening and was grateful to be heading home, for the chance to be near you again. He drove his BMW to the apartment complex, pulling to a stop in his usual space. Steve would have entered the building as usual, without pause, if he hadn’t noticed a police vehicle pulling out of the lot just as he pulled in. Steve was always a little wary around cops, not for himself really, but because he didn’t want you to get in trouble for your association with Eddie.

Steve watched the car pull away, noting the lettering on its sides. “Chief,” he read aloud, and his anxieties multiplied. A standard police vehicle wouldn’t have concerned Steve as much, but the Chief of Police had apparently been to your building. Maybe Steve was being paranoid, but he needed confirmation that you were alright.

He walked briskly up the two flights of stairs to your apartment, and unlocked the door in a hurry. “(Y/N)?” Steve called into the dark front room. “Ed?” He rounded the corner to the bedroom and found you and Eddie asleep, in each other’s arms as usual. Steve lingered in the doorway, leaning against it, his heart rate slowing to normal. Of course he was only being paranoid, again. Whatever business the Chief of Police had at your building, it clearly did not involve Eddie. For the moment, anyway.

Steve sighed in relief, setting his briefcase on the couch. He loosened his necktie and made his way to the kitchen for something small to eat. After finishing his quick meal and a couple of beers, Steve returned to the bedroom. He watched your body softly sleeping, hair splayed in pretty waves across your pillow.

Steve climbed into bed beside you, and pressed his lips to your forehead in a gentle kiss he knew you wouldn’t feel. “Sweet dreams, angel,” he whispered. Steve wrapped his arms around you and held you closer than usual, wishing he could give you this same tenderness when you were awake. But Steve knew he was too cowardly for that, too frightened of revealing his love for you.

He held you a little closer than all the nights before, curved his body securely around yours more snugly than usual; because finally, Steve realized, it’s how he should have been holding you all along…

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wutheringcaterpillar · 2 days

Note

Jim from TDS gets so fuzzy brained and dumb when he’s pounding into Y/N, because he wanted her for so long and he finally has her. he feels he deserves to have what he wants, and also making sure everyone knows she belongs to him.

Y/N could be either Jim’s son’s gf/ex-gf, Jim’s daughter’s best friend, or Jim’s best friend 🫣

Btw you’re doing such a great job with your fics!!!

Warnings: Age gap (Jim is in his 40s, reader between 18-25), p in v, Jim’s a bad dad, unprotected sex, creampie, stalking social media, mentions of masturbating, taking inappropriate photos without consent, hickies

Thank you for the request I had a lot of fun with this! Hope you enjoy!❤️

Jim was reclined in his bed, his hand massaging his hardened member while he scrolled through social media photos of you. He was completely fucked ever since the day his son brought you home and may or may not have developed unhealthy coping mechanisms that his son had what he couldn’t.

Even in his dreams he could see your attractive silhouette, continuously replaying fake scenarios of you straddling him, on your knees batting those innocent lashes up at him begging for his cock.

You had him wrapped around your fucking finger without even knowing, you were completely and utterly hypnotizing.

“Fuck y/n..” He kept replaying a video on the beach, only thing covering you was a skimpy little bikini. Jim could just imagine what was underneath, reminiscing how even when he lay in the sun tanning chair, he couldn’t help but snag a few photos when you weren’t paying attention.

Position of you bent over picking up pebbles from the sand, when you came up for air from the water, specs of water droplets painting your chest, running down your cleavage.

He needed to have you, wanted to be entangled in the sheets with you, hearing you moan his name lustfully, screaming as he made you cum.

Your body was so young, hardly flawed, and had curves in all the right places. He hated to see you leave the house but loved to watch you walk away.

In the midst of coming to his high, the door slammed downstairs and he could hear yelling, what sounded to be you.

Curious, and for caution he pulled up his pants, huffing in irritation that he was interrupted from his intrusive, sexual imaginations.

“You are such an ass! Just because I enjoyed an evening with my friends doesn’t give you the right to go out with some random girls to some party and kiss them! You’re ridiculous, did you even think about me for a singular moment?!” This was the moment Jim had been waiting for, as awful as it may sound, he wanted you two to break up. He wanted the opportunity to arise for him to be there when you’re upset, knowing that there was a chance for you two to be together.

Jim wasn’t stupid, there were many times where you “accidentally” brushed past him inappropriately, there were plenty of stolen glances and obscene gestures whenever his son Caleb wasn’t around. You wanted him just as much, but due to your relationship with his son, you hadn’t gone any further. He’d constantly have to excuse himself to the restroom to deal with the repurcussions, seeking out a sweet release.

“You’re over reacting, besides I’ve been meaning to put an end to this dwindling flame. We were never going to work so figured, why not just end it the easy way.” Jim was in shock that Caleb would do such a thing to a girl, especially you. He had taught him better than that, granted he did cheat on his mother but that was besides the point.

Hearing footsteps run up the stairs followed by a door slam, Jim poked his head out hearing your sniffles from downstairs. What kind of man would he be to not check in and ensure you were okay?

“Y/N?” You were seated on the cushioned sofa, mascara flowing messly down your cheeks from weeping, but that voice…that masculine, caring, attractive voice had your glancing up from your emotional turmoil.

Jim was standing there in his pajama pants and black t-shirt, his reading glasses tucked in the hem of his shirt while his peppery hair was slightly disheveled.

“Oh I’m sorry, I was just going to head out. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, no. Stay please. My son’s an idiot and I can assure you I didn’t raise him to be that way.” He took a seat next to you, trying to act concerned when in reality his eyes kept glancing at your thighs, the way your skirt hardly covered anything. Keep it together Jim, jesus.

The close proximity and the smell of Jim’s cologne was raising the tension, and an idea popped into your head. If Caleb thought he had the right to hurt you, you would hurt him ten times worse.

Jim’s crystal blue, alluring eyes were locked on your in a transfixed state of mind, heart pumping with adrenaline when he settled his hand on your thigh in a way to “comfort” you.

He was radiant, smart, and overwhelmingly attractive for a man in his forties. When he touched you, goosebumps formed on your skin, breath hitching in your throat. Was this a bad idea, most likely, but temptation and profound desire had a hold of you both.

“I um- I always thought you were a nice girl Y/N, and beautiful, kind, sexy- fuck what the fuck am I saying.” He wanted to hit himself for his stammering of words, rolling off his tongue without even thinking, but you simply laughed, blushing from his clear embarassment. When he tried to pull away his hand, you moved it back further up just nearly underneath your skit.

“Jim, it doesn’t bother me. I’ve always thought you were quite sexy too, I mean fuck you’re a total dilf and I’ve always imagined what you looked like underneath those clothes. How fucked up is that? My own boyfriend- well ex’s dad.” You glanced down at the floor, eyes skimming the carpet trying to find a way to justify your feelings, that they weren’t morally wrong.

Brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, he slid his finger down the length of your warm neck, gaining your attention.

There was a momentous silence as you stared into one another eyes, an immense sense of crave and desire coursing through your veins.

Closing the distance, you smashed your lips against Jim’s, hands settled on his cheeks needing him desperately. At that moment the air in the room seemed to disappear, the oxygen slowly didsapating from Jim’s lungs. He was in disbelief that this was actually happening, he was kissing his son’s ex girlfriend who he’d been masturbating to all summer long.

Your lips were soft, smoothe, and you were surprisingly good at kissing for how young you were. Unable to resist, his tongue lapped inbetween your lips as he pulled you onto his lap, his hardened cock rutting against your dripping mound desperately needing you, forgetting Caleb was just upstairs.

He held you like a woman, his hands grasping at the chubby skin of your ass cheeks underneath your skirt, roaming and massaging the delicate skin roughly.

“Fuck Y/N… you don’t know how long I’ve waited for this moment…” Your lips roamed down to the crook of his neck, sucking and rotating your tongue, surely leaving a mark causing him to release a disgruntled groan.

Your hands fumbled with his belt, craving to be filled with his cock while your pussy throbbed in your panties, slick merely dripping from your cunt.

Shedding yourself of your shirt, Jim’s eyes widened from the sight of your well rounded, perfect tits, they were everything he had imagined them to be and more.

His hands grasped the jiggly skin, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head in satisfaction. Hold it together Jim, what would she think if you busted just from the sight of her fucking tits, pathetic man.

His brain seemed to turn to a puddle, any prior thoughts lost from your hypnotizing body. He had to have you right then and there.

“Well, are you going to fuck me or not, because I really…” You trailed off you sentence, running a singular finger down his lip, eyes focused on him with a lustful gaze as you grinded against his lap, needing more.

“Really, need you inside me, my pretty pussy aches for you Jim.” Within second he flipped you onto your back, shedding himself of his clothes and tearing down your skirt and panties down in a animalistic frenzy.

He had never seen such a perfect cunt in his life, so in tact, so beautiful, and dripping for him, god how his dick was felt like it was going to burst any minute. His size took you by surprise, Jim wasn’t small by any means, his cock a good eight maybe nine inches, this was going to be fun.

Your hand grazed the back of his neck, pulling him down just so your lips brushed against his ear.

“Hope your cock is better than your son’s, wouldn’t want to be dissapointed.” He took that as a challenge, one that he knew very well he was going to win.

“My son, doesn’t seem to know how to pleasure his woman and I’m going to make sure he and everyone else knows who fucked you right.” Your eyebrow quirked up in interest.

“Well go on then, fuck me like no other man could.” Jim had never been this nervous in his life to fuck a woman, but you- you he didn’t want to leave unsatisfied.

He didn’t even need to glance down before pushing the head of his thick shaft deep inside of you, claiming you as his.

You gasped from the sudden intrusion, nail’s scraping against the muscles on Jim’s back. He smirked satisfyingly, leaning down to kiss you once more, shoving his tongue roughly into your mouth, desperately needing to explore every inch of you, craving more and more.

He pumped quickly into you, patience being non existent, the feel of your hot, indisputably tight walls clenching to his length. Your boobs bounced with each powerful thrust. His lips trailed down to the warmth of your neck, tenderly sucking lavender marks into your smoothe skin, needing people to know who you belonged to now.

“Oh Jim, more, more, please…” Oh the velvet, captivating sound of your strained moan had his horny brain whirling, eyes merely fluttering closed from the sweet descent of your exasperated tone.

Your pussy was throbbing from pleasure, being filled to the brim like no other man had fucked you before.

Your fingers intertwined in his hair, scrunching at his gray, partially wavy hair, pressing him against your body as he fucked you relentlessly. His free hand cusped at the cushiony skin of your boob, rolling the jelly like skin.

He needed to see you in another position, he need to see himself filling your cunt.

Standing up causing you to whine from the empty feeling, he picked you up with his strong arms effortlessly as if you weighed nothing before bending you over the sofa.

“Oh!” Jim slapped your ass and pulled your head back aggresively by the strands of your hair, plumetting his cock into your heated, tight walls simultaneously.

“Fuck! Fuck Jim! Ah!” He didn’t hold back, striking deep within your aching core over and over, his balls slapping against your skin with each powerful thrust. He had never seen an ass bounce back against him so poetically and perfectly, he was nearly salivating on the mouth looking down at you bent over on display for him and only him. Watching your pussy swallow his dick with each desperate rut, god you were stunning.

Hearing you man his name and take his cock so well was sending him over the edge, his dick pulsating in you before he even had the chance to think.

As you pounded your ass back against him, your bottom lip was becoming increasingly swollen from how much your teeth had been biting at it from the immense pleasure.

“Jesus, you’re fucking amazing, fucking beautiful, taking my cock so fucking well. Tell me who you belong to.”

“You Jim. All yours, completely yours. I-I’m going to-Ah-“ He slapped your ass cheek fiercely once more, focusing on the way you moaned his name, the way your back arched as you came undone.

Your knuckes turning white from the grip they had on the cushioned surface, toes curling from your orgasm. The euphoric, alluring sensation taking over every part of your body.

That didn’t stop Jim from going to pound town. Slamming your hips down against him, rutting desperately and bottoming out deep within your dripping, aching cunt. He wad close.

“Gonna fucking cum- want me to fill you up love. Hm? Having my cum spilling out of you like a faucet for days.” You nodded desperately moaning for him to cum at the sound of his gruff voice

“Jim, Jim, please. I need your cum, need you to paint my fucking insides white, right now. Now.” At that moment you could feel his thick cock pulsate within your core, his cum shooting straight up into your cervix.

“Fuck, fuck y/n… I’m fucking cumming.” The sweat beaded at your forhead, his own dripping down from his hair onto your back.

He had never felt a high so unfathomably pleasurable, he finally felt like he had accomplished what he always wanted- needed to. You were finally his.

Pulling out he stretched your cunt, pulling the sensitive, reddened skin apart with his large digits, seeing the art he had created with his milky white cum flowing freely out of your alluring pussy that was still twitching from your orgasm.

Caleb turned and twisted in his bed, the constant strange sounds keeping him up. Deciding to investigate, he grabbed the bat from his room before making his way downstairs only to be blindsided with his own dad intertwined with his now ex-girlfriend whom was covered with hickies on her neck

“What the fuck is this?! How did this-How could-“

“That’s how you treat a woman son. Maybe take notes because let me tell you, she’s a keeper this one.” You smirked on the couch, nuzzling your nose against his chest being fully happy with your decision to sleep with your ex’s father. He was already proving to be more of a man than Caleb ever was.

“Ready for bed love?” Jim held his hand out for you, wrapping his robe around your shoulders while Caleb stood there fuming at the actions of his own father and you, disbelief that you’d go this far, making him question if you ever really gave a shit about him or just dated him for his dad.

#Jim #jim tds #jim x reader #jim x you #Jim tds x reader #Jim tds x you #the delinquent season imagine #ranaewrites #requested

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tobiasdrake · 12 hours

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Fun Fact: Goku fights smarter. Vegeta fights harder.

As a martial artist, Goku's developed and cultivated his skills over the course of his life, mastering a variety of creative techniques and, more importantly, honing his mind. A quick-thinking and analytical counter-fighter, Goku prides himself on a creative and clever dismantling of his adversary's capabilities.

This is where Goku excels as a fighter. He's a formidable martial artist in his own right but when pressured, he falls back on a generally high understanding of violence and a creative mind for opening solutions. He reads his opponent's style and abilities, finds its weaknesses, and exploits them.

This, incidentally, is part of what what made Majin Buu such an insurmountable hurdle for him.

Majin Buu is a taffy monster made of magic who defies even this universe's conventional physics. He has no fighting style; He just does things, and his infinitely regenerative body and supreme liquid flexibility leaves no weaknesses to exploit.

He cannot be fought the way Goku fights.

For his own style, Goku has one particular signature technique and a couple other moves he's picked up from others. His mainstay is the Kamehameha. But he's innovated a wide variety of ways in which the Kamehameha can be used, based on the needs of his situation.

Goku's used the technique in a variety of ways, such as using it for propulsion instead of as an attack.

Bending it around the opponent's defense for a surprise attack.

Making stationary torpedos that he can fire at will to startle and disorient his adversary.

The coolest attack in Dragon Ball history YES I SAID IT. Learning to teleport? Cool. Kamehameha? Cool. Teleporting in while charging the Kamehameha in order to throw it directly under your opponent's guard before he even has an instant to react? Top-tier.

Point is, this is who Goku is as a fighter. Brilliant and innovative, bringing a great deal of cleverness and creativity to his fights. He breaks down his opponent's technique and adapts himself to the needs of the situation at hand.

Vegeta is also highly observant and analytical. Do not mistake me for calling him stupid. He makes plans of his own, and his greatest asset is his ability to follow everything happening on the field at once. It is next to impossible to get the drop on this man.

Vegeta pays attention.

Vegeta is always paying attention. He splits his focus incredibly well and quickly interprets what he's seeing and hearing with a critical eye. He misses nothing.

He is. Always. Paying attention. The one time someone actually managed to get the drop on him - and I cannot stress this enough - it was a person Vegeta did not know existed because he had not been a part of this battle up to this point.

Am I saying that Yajirobe's cowardice saved the world by not revealing his presence to Vegeta until this fateful moment? Yes. Yes, I am saying that. We literally have a counter-example from someone Vegeta did know and account for to contrast it with.

Vegeta is always paying attention. Unless he doesn't know you exist.

So. Yeah. Vegeta is incredibly brilliant and observant. But what he's not is a martial artist. Vegeta, instead, is a soldier. He's comfortable in the realm that overwhelming power creates.

Vegeta hits hard.

He hits very hard.

He hits very, very, VERY hard.

In fact, Vegeta hits harder than Goku does. That's not to say that Vegeta is stronger than Goku; Vegeta and Goku go back and forth on who's stronger in the given moment over the course of the series. But Vegeta's attacks are stronger than Goku's.

To understand what that means, you need to understand that certain kinds of ki attacks have a multiplying effects on their user's strength. Attacks such as the Kamehameha or the Makankosappo, which concentrate ki before firing it, produce a much greater level of ki than their user's standard power output.

When charging a Kamehameha, Goku's battle power reading on the Scouter rises dramatically. This is the secret of techniques like the Kamehameha: they concentrate ki into a point before releasing it all at once, like pulling the pin on a grenade.

As concentration moves go, the Kamehameha isn't actually that great. The versatility and creativity that Goku brings to it is what makes it so formidable. Pound for pound, it kinda sucks. Piccolo's Makankosappo here makes the Kamehameha look like noob shit.

This kind of ability is non-standard among ki attacks, which are typically like throwing long-range punches. In fact, it's super-rare among the Planet Trade to be able to do this. Raditz had never even heard of a move like this.

Vegeta had. He knew of exactly one.

I am so sorry to do this to you but we're going to have to talk about battle power numbers here for a moment. Vegeta's clocked at 18,000 BP as of his battle with Goku on Earth; it's brought up a few times in the Namek arc.

Goku, iconically, is OVER 9000 8000!!!

At the moment Vegeta and Goku's attacks meet, Goku is channeling the Kaio-ken x3 which is exactly what it sounds like. He's inflated the ki inside his body to 300% capacity. The drawback is that his body is now an overinflated balloon ready to pop at any moment from all this swelled and bloated ki inside of him. But the gain is that he's outputting 300% power.

At this point in time, Vegeta has a battle power of 18,000. Goku, formerly >8,000 is now >>>24,000. Goku, further, is using the Super Kamehameha rather than the regular one he used against Raditz, which brings with it a higher level of power multiplication.

Nonetheless, the Galick Gun is winning against the Super Kamehameha. Goku is forced to resort to a x4 Kaio-ken - which does leave his body utterly destroyed and incapable of continuing the fight - in order to have enough power to overcome a superior magnification from a weaker opponent.

We see another direct comparison between the two in the Cell arc. That killer Warp Kamehameha fired point-blank into Cell when he least suspects it, which hits him dead-on and unloads its absolute maximum power into him? It does this.

Brutal. If Cell didn't have both Frieza's ability to survive ludicrous levels of harm and Piccolo's regeneration, it would have been over right here. Meanwhile, a glancing blow from Vegeta's Final Flash left him looking like this.

Despite Vegeta being far less powerful than Goku was when he fired that move, the effect is about the same - With implication that if Vegeta hadn't pulled the Final Flash back at the last second to avoid destroying the Earth, he would have erased Cell completely.

Goku's shot hit Cell point-blank and full-on to do about as much damage, albeit with deadlier aim in terms of killing a humanoid being.

This is the distinction between Goku and Vegeta as fighters. Vegeta is very smart, and Goku is very strong. Neither of them is lacking in intelligence or power. But they are philosophically very different fighters.

Pound for pound, Vegeta's moves hit harder than Goku's. He is the unparalleled master in taking the power he has and channeling it into as much destructive force as humanly possible.

On the flipside of that coin, when backed into a corner, Vegeta falls back on outputting as much direct force as he can. Goku gets to thinking his way around the problem at hand and devising a creative answer.

Goku is a surgical scalpel. Vegeta is a warhammer.

#dragon ball #dragon ball z #son goku #vegeta

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fixfoxnox · 3 days

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Summary: Just a short little thing I wanted to write since my back is hurting again (which naturally means Roach's back is hurting again). This is technically a mini-sequel to Replacement, which I wrote a long while ago, but you don't have to read that to understand this! Enjoy!

"This is it," Roach groaned, feeling pain shoot up his spine as he shifted, "I'm done for. I love you both, split my items amicably. Make sure the worlds best son mug goes to Eddie, just to see Johnathan pout about it."

There was a small laugh from next to him, "You're not dying bug."

"Besides," Ghost chimed in from the other half of the room, "you wouldn't be dead for long, I'll drag your ass up from hell. No getting rid of me that easy." He didn't look up from his stack of paperwork.

"You would force me back i to a world of suffering and pain?!"

"You're being dramatic," Soap chimed. He took Roach's hand in his own, rubbing circles onto his skin with his thumb. "You've just thrown your back out again. Dr. Sanchez said you'll be fine in a day or two."

"My own boyfriend, doubting the depth of my suffering." Roach threw his head to the side dramatically, only to groan again as the movement jostled his back.

The heating pack he had on was helping a bit, but it couldn't erase all of the pain he was feeling. Not even the Tylenol could really help with that. It was just something his body would have to deal with and fix on its own. Just as it had caused the problem on its own.

On the bright side of things, Roach had the privilege of being doted on by his darling boyfriends for a few days. The two hadn't been willing to leave his side after his rather dramatic moment of his back trying to kill itself.

He'd just bent down to pick up his dropped keys, then the moment he'd started to rise back up and there had been a shooting burning pain down his spine. The pain continued on, flooding down through his legs until it felt like it was at the tips of his toes. His knees had given out then, and before he'd even had time to realize that for himself, both Soap and Ghost were at his side checking on him.

"Why do I have to have these issues?" Roach gave a whine, finally done with his dramatics. At least for the moment. "I'm not that old yet!"

Soap gave another laugh and moved into Roach's side, cuddling up to him with his head on his chest. "You know thats not why your back does this."

Roach gave a huff, "You get hit by a car one time and now you've got to deal with lifelong back problems." He shook his head, "Sick and fucking twisted."

Soap gave a small hum and Roach knew the man was likely agreeing with him. After all, Roach knew that Soap had his own issues and recurring pain with his shoulder. He remembered well enough the panic he'd felt when Soap had taken a bullet to the shoulder. Then the panic that came after that when months after healing Soap had a few days where even lifting the limb slightly would cause him pain.

Ghost didn't say anything, but Roach figured the man dealt with much of the same issues as them. He was certainly better at hiding it, but Roach always noticed when he was favoring one leg over the other or would give a wince under that mask because he'd stepped a bit wrong.

It was part of the job. Roach knew that, and he knew that they were all lucky to have only those slight problems, rather than lost limbs like Alex and Jackson, or worse like the many men he'd seen fall in battle before him.

He gave a final sigh, deciding that it would be more beneficial to just enjoy the warmth of his boyfriend next to him rather than complaining further. He needed to take the opportunity to relax anyway. And what an opportunity this was.

Bonus:

"So are you guys gonna blow my back out like you did the last time I was bedridden or what?"

#yes all the boys have some level of disability #because I say so #and also logic #just wait until i start taking my rage on workmans comp out here #gary roach sanderson #call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghostroach #soaproach #ghostroachsoap #soaproachghost

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tragedybunny · 2 days

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Pretty Baby 2

༺Summary༻

Astarion is a brat on several occasions and is duly punished for it. In between, he and Mommy (Fina) deal with some emotional issues.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Tav

༺Warnings༻ NSFW - PiV Sex, Anal Play, Femdom, Mommy Kink, Feminization, Forced Orgasm, Chastity Cage, Porn with Feelings, Porn streaming, Pegging, Astarion being a brat

༺Word Count༻ 3783

༺A/N༻

So, it's chapter 2 of a fic I never planned to write. Lol. And somewhow now we've got plot and feelings involved. Hope you all enjoy, I had a lot of fun writing it. And huge thank you to the best of betas and friends, @icybluepenguin

The chat is populated by Tav's and other characters from my friends, they all helped makes this a delight.

Check out two similar fics if you dig mine. Decadent Torture and Careless Whisper

Read On AO3 Chapter 1

“Hush, a little more, then your punishment is over.” I let go of his cock, turn off the plug vibrating in his ass, and give him a short reprieve.

Drawing gasping breaths, he looks up at me with pleading, tear filled eyes. God, his eyes are pretty; startling crimson, soft, and round. Normally, I cave when they're all watery like this. But not tonight - tonight is for lessons.

I play with the little pink bow on his white thigh high stocking. Leaving him with only those, his white bra, and of course his collar, made him such a fetching picture for our little teaching session.

He'd spent most of the night on his knees in the naughty corner, those stockings peeking out of his pleated white skirt, a little pink cashmere sweater completing his look. I'd posted a few pictures that had his audience nice and worked up.

Demi_g0ddess: oh looks like Little Star was very bad today can’t wait to see what Mommy does to the little brat Bookworm420: didn’t realize Mommy was a thicc queen this might be too much for my ovaries

The chat had been crowded when we set up for the stream. Before the camera went on, I told him what to take off and how to prep, but not what I was planning.

We went live and I made him give a little introduction.

“I've had a very bad attitude lately and Mommy wants to make sure I'm thoroughly punished, so she's letting you all watch.” Every word was said petulantly as he leaned into playing the brat.

Ari147: wonder what he did… Drag-onme: who cares, as long we get to watch the aftermath BardlockLongdick: is that a leather couch animal cruelty is not sexy.

“Go on,” I prompted, gesturing for him to get ready.

The clothes he stripped were folded and set to the side, the chat cheering him on. When he kneeled down, I handed him a vibrating plug that made his eyes go wide.

“Mommy, please…” he pleaded, but obediently went to work prepping and inserting it, cheeks flushed a deep red. I let him position himself in my lap, head propped on the arm of the couch. Then I started typing, Astarion watching with dawning horror.

Mommy: Little Star has been an absolute brat about wearing a chastity cage while I’m out of town, because he wouldn’t be able to touch himself. So, tonight, I’m making him come as many times as I think he can handle.

Demonbbyy: poor little thing got himself into a lot of trouble TestyZesty: Mommy is way too nice about it but I’m still going to watch.

And here we were- Astarion, covered in his own semen, whimpering in my arms. I drag my finger along his cock, and he sucks in a shuddering breath. One more and I think he’ll have learned his lesson. I push the button on the remote for the plug.

“Fuck,” he whines the word.

Penguino: aww, Mommy, I think he’s had enough TestyZesty: nah, he’s still coherent keep going Demi_g0ddess: Zesty, we’re sharing a brain cell DrowDaddy: this chat is very mean tonight

I put a generous coating of lube on my hand and begin to work his shaft again. He pants and moans, desperate sounds falling from his lips as he builds to another orgasm.

The chat continues to go feral as he whines and cries. I'm gentle this last round, languidly rubbing, letting the plug do its work. “That's it, one more for me. You've been so good for your punishment.”

He squirms at the praise, tearfully whimpering, hips weakly bucking as I take him to climax again. My other hand turns up the intensity on the plug.

“Pleeeease,” he cries, voice ragged.

Another spurt of cum and he goes limp. I turn off the plug and lean down to kiss his sweat soaked forehead, letting him recover for a moment. He's so pretty like this, spent and helpless in my lap. “Now, are you ready to apologize for being such a little brat the past couple of days?”

He doesn't hesitate. “I'm sorry, Mommy,” he whimpers, tears running down his face.

“Good baby. Almost done.”

He tenses. “But...”

“Shh. They get to see because of the attitude.” He makes a noise. “Don't turn this into a spanking session,” I warn and he gets quiet.

I take a warm, moist towel I'd set up earlier and clean up his pretty cock. The chat is losing it.

KneelForMeSweets: and we get to see the cage can he act up every night

It's a pretty pink little chastity cage, just perfect for him. I slide the ring on first, then put the tube over his cock before locking it down. He's so quiet, I can hear every breath and the sniffles he's still fighting.

Once they get a good look, I shut down the stream.

Mommy: I'm going to go get this little brat cleaned up. Hopefully, he's learned his lesson.

Bitchybambi: I hope not, I want to see what you do next KneelForMeSweets: she can DM me for ideas.

I kill the video and give him a proper kiss as he clings to me, spent and shivering. “Come on, you. Bath time.”

Astarion is unusually quiet during our aftercare session, and when he's settled into bed in a pair of oversized pajamas, I pull him close, and he snuggles into my neck on instinct.

“You know, if you think it's too much to wear it, you don't have to.” I run my fingers through his curls and cover his face in soft kisses. He's done stints in the cage before, but I'm starting to doubt myself on this one. It would kill me to ever hurt him for real.

He doesn't move; if anything, he burrows deeper into the crook of my neck. “It's not, and I am sorry for being a pain. It's just…”

He makes a small, frustrated noise and I keep petting him. “Take your time.”

For a few minutes, he just takes shaky breaths, and then he speaks. “It’s this whole going back to school thing. I'm nervous, and you're going to be gone for the next two days. And what if this is a dumb idea and I can't do it.”

“It's not a dumb idea, you really like fashion design, baby. And why do you think you can't do it?”

“Remember the last time I was in school? I failed out.”

“Astarion, you didn't want to be a lawyer and you hated law school. You only went because Caz-” I feel him tense in my arms, “because he made you.”

“I know.” He sounds teary again. “But it doesn't mean I don't feel stupid.”

“Love, my pretty little wife, you are not stupid. You’re capable and creative. And you know I won’t have time on this stupid team building trip, otherwise I’d bring you with.”

“Still going to miss you, though.”

“I know, baby. I’ll be back before you know it.”

The next morning, Astarion drives me to the airport. I put the keys for his collar and the cage in my jewelry box in case of an emergency or if it’s too much for him. It's cold and rainy, and he’s adorable in oversize sweats with sleepy eyes. After he unloads my bag, I pull him in for a hug and feel it pressed against me. A wave of lust courses through me; I can’t wait to come back and have a nice little session with him.

“Call me when you land, Fina.”

I don’t know if he realizes how much I’ll miss him. Astarion and I have rarely been apart since we met in grad school. It's just as hard on me to get on that plane and be without him.

We get one quick call before I’m off to the first of many “activities” the firm planned. I can’t be too angry about it, they pay a ton, and it finances my trophy wife’s lifestyle. I tell Astarion I’ll call him after dinner and karaoke hour.

The whole day isn't that tortuous, and most of my coworkers get into the spirit of things for karaoke. I still make my exit as soon as I can to get some time in with Astarion.

To my surprise, I see he's streaming. Sprawled out on the bed in a sheer black satin chemise that's ridden up his thighs enough to show off his beautifully caged cock.

Instead of anything salacious, he's painting his nails. Not every stream is as action filled as last night. Some of them are just mundane things like now. I can’t fault the audience, I'd still pay to see him too, if he wasn’t mine already. I slide into the chat without announcing myself.

Ari147: nothing fun tonight? :(

“I’m afraid not, darling. If I don’t get any fun, neither do you.” He blows a cheeky kiss to the camera, and readjusts, spreading his legs more. One hand idly traces unpainted nails along a thigh while he blows on the ones he just painted.

He’s such a filthy little tease.

Mommy: glad to see you’re behaving yourself tonight

He sits up straighter, eyes lighting up. “Hi, Mommy. Missing all this?” His hand climbs higher, running up his abdomen to his chest.

Demonbbyy: if she isn’t, I’ll take him Mommy: settle yourselves down

Astarion leans over, getting on all fours to look directly into the camera, licking his lips. “Well, are you?” he pouts.

Mommy: you know I am, and I’ll prove it when I get home

His breath hitches. “That’s all for tonight, darlings. I want to give Mommy all my… attention.”

The stream goes blank and he’s video-calling me seconds later. “Hi.” He smiles giddily. “I thought you might be a little later.”

“What can I say, I do actually miss you a lot. How was your day?”

We chat for a while and I watch him finish his nails, still in his chemise, which hides nothing as he shifts around. He seems less nervous about the school situation, which I chalk up to actually talking about it.

“Alright, I should probably get to sleep. I’ll call you in the morning.”

The morning call goes smooth enough, but the day is filled with seminars and an afternoon paintball session. Why do HR departments always think that’s a good idea? Astarion starts texting me around lunch, chatty little messages that I don’t have time to properly answer. Then the attitude creeps in.

“Fine, if you don’t want to talk to me.”

“I. Am. Busy. Astarion. I’ll call after dinner.”

I forgot dinner is an awards banquet that traps me for longer than I’d anticipated. It never seems to end, and I start trying to text him during it. No response, and a part of me begins to stress that he’s not doing well. He’d tell me though if he wasn’t, I’m pretty sure.

I practically run up to my room after dinner, skipping the cocktail hour after and all the great networking. All because he has me nearly panicked with worry. So of course, when he doesn’t answer his phone, I’m furious to find him on stream.

He’s not actually wearing anything, sitting on the plush white rug, a cozy glow from the fireplace providing ambient lighting.

BaasaNova: weren’t you supposed to be in a chastity cage while Mommy is gone

He gives his hard cock a firm stroke and moans dramatically, red eyes dancing with mischief. “If I’m getting ignored, I’m not going to listen. Besides, she’s busy, so what she doesn’t know isn’t going to hurt her.”

Bookworm420: this seems like a bad idea I don't want to see you get in trouble.

It isn’t about disobeying me, or any other kink related thing. He really thinks I’d ignore him on purpose. And that stings like nothing else I've ever felt.

I wait and lurk while he continues to touch himself. He's bubbly and flamboyant, basking in the praise of the chat. Normally, I'd be entranced by his hand working that gorgeous shaft, now I'm getting more furious.

Finally, with an exaggerated cry, he comes all over himself. While his hand gives a few more lazy pumps, he glances at the chat.

Mommy: I hope that was worth it

His eyes get wide and he sits up straight. “Shit.”

The stream dies just as he starts calling me.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…” he whimpers before I can say anything.

“Astarion,” I cut him off. “I want you to know that I still love you and that isn't going to change. But I'm so hurt and angry right now that you could decide I would ignore you on purpose.”

“Please, I just…”

“No, we're not going to talk about this now. I'm going to give you until I get home tomorrow to get your thoughts together. But right now I'm too angry to talk to you. So I'm going to go to bed and will call you in the morning.”

He sobs. “No, stay on the phone with me. Please, Fina.”

I sigh and relent. “I love you, Star.”

We lay in silence for a long time, the occasional sniffle coming from his end. Finally, I'm too exhausted and have to sleep, and reluctantly tell him goodnight.

There's a subdued call in the morning and I tell him I'll get a cab at the airport, I don't think he should be driving while that upset. Then I'm on the way home. The anger has mostly worn off but this stunt of his still hurts.

When I get home, hev hasn't left the bed, completely naked, almost hiding under the covers. I don't even think twice before getting under them with him and pulling him to me.

“I'm sorry,” he says softly into my neck, reminding me so much of the day we first kissed. The day I'd needed to take care of him after what Cazador had done to him.

“I know. Tell me what happened.” I bury my face in his curls and kiss his head.

“I started getting nervous again and started to panic, and I wanted to talk to you. And I got upset that I couldn't. I know you wouldn't just ignore me.”

“Then why didn't you say you were anxious? I could have made time if I had known you were panicking.”

“I didn't want you to think I was weak. Especially after you told me that you believed in me.”

“Astarion, love, you are always going to be one of the strongest people I've ever met.” My hands rub his back, fingers finding the scars of years of his adopted father's “discipline.” “I'm sorry too, I think I pushed you into something you didn't need while you were nervous. Even if you said you were alright with it.”

He gets quiet for a moment before answering. “It isn’t your fault. You’re always the best you can be to me.”

“Still, maybe we should take a break from some of the more performative things.” I feel him tense and kiss his cheek to reassure him.

“No, it makes me so happy to be like that, to be so completely yours. Don’t take that away.”

“Let's talk some more tomorrow. There's no need to rush anything.”

“Alright. And, well, you did say that you were going to show me how much you missed me?” His voice pitches soft and breathy.

“Astarion, you horny little gremlin,” I tease.

“Please, Mommy. I know I was very naughty, but don't I deserve a little treat?”

I already feel slick between my legs, even if I'm not sure that I should let him do this.

“I know what you're thinking, but I can handle some relatively vanilla sex right now. I want to be loved.” He gives me his best wide-eyed pleading look.

“Alright, baby.”

I sit up, and he helps me undress, leaving kisses wherever he can reach. My hand reaches out to wrap around his stiffened cock and give a few languid strokes. I catch his eyes wandering down to my breasts with naked longing.

Relatively vanilla, he said.

“Come here.”

I lay back, and he follows, slotting between my legs. His cock pushes into me as his lips latch onto a nipple, and he sucks frantically. “There you go.” I stroke his hair, and he starts fucking me with wild, desperate thrusts. “That's what you needed, huh, baby.”

He whines and sucks harder, teeth scraping until pleasure blends with pain. Molten heat builds in my core with each snap of his hips, and I doubt either of us will last long.

“So good for me,” I pant as I feel myself contract around him and my body tingle with bliss. That does it, and he gives one last jerky thrust as I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him in tight to take every drop of him.

He collapses on top of me, still suckling, and I let him stay that way, fucked and comforted.

After a very nice Saturday in our pajamas, we talk and settle some things between us. Astarion is still very nervous about school in a couple of weeks, but doesn't want to change the things he loves about our relationship. He even insists on punishment for his bad behavior.

We agree on three days with the chastity cage, the two he originally was supposed to have and one extra. No clothing at home, so I can see it at all times. It kills me not being able to play with my wife's pretty cock. But you know, discipline hurts me more than it hurts him, or something.

And at the end of the third day, a very serious lesson. So, I arrange something special, to be shared with his audience, like he shared his misbehavior. He's been waiting in the bedroom while I set things up.

“Safe word, wifey,” I order when I come to collect him.

He stares at my too short, black latex dress with my pale pink strap-on visible where it rides up over my thighs, and blushes. “Objection.”

“Good, baby.” I lead him to the living room where the camera is already at the right angle to watch as I bend him over the couch arm, pushing his face into the cushion right next to the waiting paddle. I watch him shiver with anticipation and spare a glance at the chat. They’re in rare form tonight.

DM_ME_UR_SYRUP: Back from my two week ban just in time. Thornyonmain: Hggnnnnnn, god he looks so good like that am I enjoying the impending pain too much Bitchybambi: Nah, he's asked for this Demi_g0ddess : You're so right, bestie Penguino: Aww, you guys, have a little sympathy

Picking up the paddle, I run it over the curve of his ass and hear him whimper. My hand pushes down on his back, commanding and reassuring. The first smack is light and I give him a moment. He trembles but says nothing.

Another one, slightly harder, he whines but doesn’t say anything. I keep going, watching his pale skin burst into red blossoms with each impact. I can feel him shaking under my hand and hear when he starts to cry.

“You’re being so good,” I coo.

He sobs in response. It’s been awhile since he had a serious spanking session. I keep whispering praise as I go, letting him know how well he’s doing, how much I love him. He’s a teary mess when I’m done, and I can feel the warmth coming from his skin.

“I’m sorry I was naughty, Mommy,” he whines through tears.

“Shh, shh, I know. I think you deserve a little reward for taking the punishment so well.”

l take the lube I have waiting and coat my fingers. He whines for a totally different reason when I spread him open and push a finger inside his tight hole.

“Fuck,” he mewls when the second one enters.

He pants through clenched teeth while I work them inside of him, getting him ready to take me. Each stretch and flex draws a new noise and when he’s ready, I coat the strap in lube and press the tip of it against his entrance. Even with a stinging ass, he rolls his hips into it, desperate and needy.

I gave him a little playful smack on the marks darkening to bruises. “Behave.”

He yelps but stills. Slowly, I slide it into him, relishing each little moan as I fill him. Then my hips rock, and I thrust deeply, before stilling again.

“Please,” he begs, desperately.

“Please what?”

“Fuck me, Mommy.”

I reward him with another deep thrust, and began to move my hips with a quick rhythm. Under me, Astarion is losing himself, keening wails and pleading whimpers accompany my every movement.

I'm aware just how achingly empty I am; later we’ll take care of me. Right now, I focus on making him properly blissed out.

I know his cock is straining against the cage, leaking helplessly, as he reaches the edge. My fingers dig into his hips and I fuck him as deep as I can until a wordless shout rips from him and his whole body is shaking again. I press my hips tight to his, as deep into him as I can while his orgasm ebbs away with multiple whimpers, only pulling out when he’s stilled.

Turning back, I give the chat a good-bye and end the stream.

SquidDomme: He has in fact not learned anything DrowDaddyG: I think he'll try to be better, he's such a sweet boy BardlockLongdick: Maybe you all should try opening a Bible instead of this website DM_ME_UR_SYRUP: Anyone know how I can get an air horn noise to play in chat (I'm joking, please don't ban me again)

Then I remove the strap-on and save it for later clean up. “Come here, wifey,” I say, sitting on the couch.

Sluggishly, he obeys, coming to rest his head in my lap. I run my fingers through his hair and let him come down from the experience.

“I love you,” he murmurs into my thighs.

“I love you too. No more bratty behavior, right?”

I feel the little smirk he makes. “Absolutely, lesson learned.”

We both know he's lying, but I trust none of it will be super hurtful again. “Good little wife.”

Tag list:

@micropoe10 @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21

@tallymonster @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin

@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird

@satanicspinosaurus @darlingxdragon @wanderingisobel @astarionsbeloved

@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @misscrissfemmefatale @bg3obsessedsideblogg @captainaceofspades @wickedwitchofthewilds @asterordinary @talented-bitch @waking-electric @snowfolly

#bg3 #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #bg3 tav #tav #astarion x tav #my fanfic #my writing #modern au

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shhh-secret-time · 2 days

Text

Star Park AU: Kyle Broflovski Edition

-> Moved back to the Valley after graduating and getting his doctorate. (He's essentially where Harvey is in game.)

-> Couldn't find work out i the city so he moved back to the Valley

-> His parents stayed in the city but they allowed Ike to move back with Kyle as long as he agreed to take good care of him.

-> He has files on everyone's medical history and they're organized based on who's the easiest patient to deal with to who he has to literally drag in to his office. It goes: Karen, Wendy and Nichole, Kenny, Craig, Heidi, Tolkien and Scott, Butters, Ike and Jimmy, Tweek, Sharon, Shelly, Bebe, Stan, Clyde, All of the Goths, Randy, and finally Cartman.

-> He makes monthly walks to the Wizard tower to check on the Goths. They've told him before they don't need it because they have magic but he doesn't believe them.

-> Kyle and Wendy work hard to make things easier for Jimmy around town. The mayor fights them over the funding. Wendy has to practically drag Kyle away from fighting the mayor.

-> He's the only person that Scott trusts with his meds, always making sure to pick his medication up.

-> When he's not working he checks in with Heidi over Ike's education, sometimes he sits in and helps out when he can.

Gift Guide:

Loves: Fire Opal, Pomegrantes, Poppy, Starfruit Wine, Artichoke Dip Likes: All Books, Emerald, Coffee, Magma Cap, Tea leaves Neutral: All Fish (Except Shrimp), Beer, All Eggs Dislikes: Radioactive Ore/Bar, Fertilizer, Escargot, Mudstone Hates: Bananas, Banana Pudding, Shrimp, Bug Meat, Roe (Any)

Loved: "A..Are you serious?! Thank you so much!" Liked: "You thought of me? That's very kind, thank you." Neutral: "Thank...you? It's the thought that counts." Dislikes: "Ugh. I don't want your trash." Hates: "Really? What went through your head when giving me this? God...."

Heart Event @ 2:

Kyle is outside with his brother, one of the rare times he's free from working. He's sitting on the bench at the park reading through his medical files. Ike is playing by himself looking a little lonely. Farmer walks up and sees him sadly rocking on the spring rider. Ike tells the Farmer that he misses playing with his brother, it just seems like he never has time for him anymore. Farmer thinks for a moment before walking over to Kyle, who only notices them when they sit down. He greets them with a smile, quickly going back to his reading. >> Do you ever take a break? How can you be on your laptop right now? It's so nice out! (-) >> Ike looks a little sad, doesn't he? (+) If First Option: Kyle gets slightly annoyed, Farmer should know better than anyone here that he can't just stop working. He notes rather dryly he would have thought he'd be free of their lecturing, seeing as he gets enough of it from Stan.

"I appreciate your concern really, but I'm this towns only doctor last time I checked. I happen to like reading outside."

If Second Option: Kyle looks up from his laptop with concern on his face. He frowns when he realizes that he's been ignoring his brother, and how Ike is rocking back and forth with no care. Turning to the Farmer, he expresses gratitude for bringing it to his attention. He feels back for not seeing it himself, he was just hoping to catch up a little on work before he went home. He closes his laptop, putting it to the side, and stands up. Farmer jumps up with them and offers to play with him and his brother!

"Then I hope you're ready for the longest game of hide-n-seek of your life. You didn't have anything planned for the rest of the day right?"

Heart Event @ 4:

Kyle visits the Farmer early in the morning, greeting them while they're walking to the shipping bin. He apologizes for showing up unannounced. He would have called but he didn't think the Farmer would be able to hear the phone from the fields. Farmer doesn't seem to mind which makes him feel better, physically relaxing. Looking past them, he compliments their hard work on turning the fields into an actual farm. Afterwards he goes on to tell them that their crops have made things better even if they don't realize it. Tells them that the fresh food is better for the townsfolk than Jojo's food. >> I don't actually do that much farming. I'm more into fishing or mining. (/) >> Thanks Kyle! It's nice to get a little appreciation! (/) >> I didn't think of it that way...you really think of everything huh? (/) If First Option: Kyle goes quiet, the longer the silence the more his face turns red. Embarrassment dusting his cheeks. Under his breath he says something about the farm at least looking clean.

"At least your farm looks cleaner then Mr. Marsh's. Smells better too."

If Second Option: Kyle chuckles and tells them there's no reason to thank them! He's in the same boat sometimes and that even now he's here's to do his job. He wonders if anyone else has been out this way yet?

"I just realized you haven't had a checkup with me yet. Swing by the clinic okay? I don't want you to get sick."

If Third Option: Farmer turns the table on them, Kyle gets flustered over the small praise. At least he takes it as praise. He scoffs, telling them to stop being so humble. Being a Farmer is hard work and they should realize the good they do.

"Please. Not just anyone can get Cartman to eat a vegetable. You're good at what you do!"

Heart Event @ 5:

Next time Farmer walks into the clinic they walk back into Kyle's office. He's surprised to actually see them, telling them that he is pleased that he didn't have to drag them in. When Farmer looks at him confused, Kyle tells them that sometimes he has to go and "collect" some of the townsfolk for their appointments. So, it's nice that there's someone else so willing to come in. After a moment he gets a little embarrassed that he started rambling again. Farmer is just easy to talk to, they listen. Before they can comment on the blush on his face, he gets down to business. Kyle opens his laptop and looks up at them, he begins to ask Farmer about themselves, wanting an insight on their medical history.

"Sorry, you didn't come here to listen to me complain. It's just easy to talk to you. A-anyway, before I keep making an ass of myself, lets get started on filling out your medical history!"

Heart Event @ 6:

Farmer is walking from town to the mountains, they can hear faint shouting. Walking closer, they see Kyle and Ike standing next to the mountain lake away from Kenny's house. Ike is sitting on the wooden bridge with his face in his hands, looking more and more upset. When Farmer gets close enough to hear what they're saying clearly, they overhear what the argument is about. Kyle is upset that Ike's grades are slipping, telling him that he needs to put in a little more effort in school. Apparently, he's been blowing off his homework and Heidi is having a hard time getting him to pay attention in class. Ike complains that all Kyle ever talks to him about is how he's doing in school and his stupid job, that he doesn't care to ask Ike about anything else. He asks him when was the last time they did anything fun that didn't require the Farmer having to all but pull him away from work. Ike cuts Kyle off before he can rebuttal. Shouting something about how he's acting just like their mother and he's supposed to be his brother, not his parent! Kyle gets upset and snaps back at him, telling him that he won't apologize for caring about Ike's well being and he wouldn't have to act like their mother if Ike just grew up a little. This makes Ike tear up, he stands up and shouts that he should just go back to the city then. Kyle stands there watching his brother storm off, leaving him alone next to the lake, he looks destroyed. Farmer walks out from where they were hiding, and when Kyle doesn't get upset that Farmer was listening in they know he's really torn up. It takes him some time but he eventually address them, telling them that he never meant to fill the role of a parent. He knows he's hard on Ike, he just wants to see his little brother grow into the best version of himself. The Valley is good to him, better then the city was. He knows it's good for Ike too.

"Am I being that overbearing? I mean...I'm in charge of him. I promised Ma that I'd look after him! I'm not asking for much right? Just for him to apply himself more!"

>> Maybe you're not as right as you think you are. (-) >> Does he know that? Have you told him how you feel? (+) >> I don't think you're really listening to your brother. (+) >> Lighten up Kyle, he's just throwing a tantrum. He'll get over it. (-) If First Option: Kyle looks up with a flash of anger in his eyes, he can't believe what he's hearing. How could Farmer say something like that? He thought they were friends! As Kyle storms off he glares at them.

"Jesus Christ, if you talk to your friends like this then I'd hate to hear how you talk to people you hate!"

If Second Option: Kyle thinks on both Farmer and Ike's words. Like he's replaying the whole thing in his head again. When was the last time he talked to Ike about how he feels? About anything that wasn't him being a hard ass.

"No...I guess I haven't. Ugh I'm an asshole, he deserves to be a kid. I really do sound like our mom. Thanks for listening again Farmer."

If Third Option: Kyle's brows furrow, he wants to be upset but Farmer's right. He makes his frustration known and somehow in the same breath is grateful that Farmer said it. He tells Farmer that this isn't the first time their stubborn attitudes have clashed. Something they both get from their Mother.

"I think if you were anyone else I would be furious but...you're right. It does make me feel a little better to know I'm not the only one who's stubborn. I'll apologize to him in the morning. Goodnight and thank you Farmer."

If Fourth Option: Kyle snaps as that comment strikes a nerve. He goes to yell again but he just stops, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. When he opens his eyes he looks past them and wishes them a good night. Leaving them alone because just the thought of responding to that is exhausting.

Heart Event @ 8:

It's late, later than Farmer realized. As they go to leave the mines, a group of Shadow beasts corner them. It cuts to them limping out of the mines. Beaten down and exhausted, they collapse against the side of the mountain. The last thing they see is Kyle running over to them and the dim light of a flashlight. When they wake up again, they're laying in one of the beds of Kyle's clinic. Their wounds are bandaged and cleaned. Looking over in a daze, Kyle's eyes meet theirs and there's a look of relief. He closes the first aid kid sitting next to them, picks up the medical tools and puts them away. Farmer can hear him breathing deeply, like this is the first time he's able to. Eventually he breaks the silence, speaking as softly as he can. He scolds them for being reckless, and that they're lucky that Ned was nearby to hear that fight. Kyle stops in the middle of his lecture, catching himself doing it again. Lectures are the last thing Farmer needs right now, they need sleep. Farmer just smiles and shakes their head at him and it almost makes Kyle laugh. He can't believe the energy they have, how they're even awake right now. He promises to keep them company, that he'll be right here for them when they wake up. Time passes again as Farmer drifts back to sleep, when they wake up again they see Kyle asleep in the chair next to them.

"Do you have any idea how worried I was?! Seeing you bleeding out in the dirt like that! I know you can be more responsible then that, what were you-.... no I'm doing it again. I'm sorry. Look just get some sleep, you need to rest." - "What? I'm not going anywhere, someone has to look over you and make sure you actually get rest. I swear I'll turn my back and you'll try and get out of that bed."

When given the bouquet:

"!! Y-You're not fucking with me right? This isn't just some cruel prank? ...Then of course I will- be your partner that is!"

Heart Event @ 10:

Farmer walks outside of their house to Kyle sitting on their porch. A picnic basket sitting next to him, a bottle of wine sticking out of the basket, and a red-checkered blanket tucked neatly inside. When he hears the doo open he perks up and stands up quickly. With a grin on his face, he greets them with an energetic good morning. He holds up the basket telling them that he wants to take them out. The day is beautiful and he intends to spend as much of it with them. Farmer agrees, leaving the farm going south past Tegridy Farms. Kyle takes them near the cliffs overlooking the ocean. The two sit there enjoying the picnic that Kyle's put together. When he sees how happy Farmer is with the food, he goes on to tell them that he learned how to cook from his Mother. The conversation leads him to ramble about how he was the only one who could cook in the friend group for a while. That Stan used to beg him to make dinner so he didn't have to eat with his family. Farmer continues to just look happy with everything. Good food and getting to listen to him talk about his best friend, watching as he lights up! Then they feel a rain drop hit their forehead. Looking up, the two se as the sky starts to darken and rain clouds begin to roll in. Immediately Kyle throws his jacket over the Farmer and urgently moves them towards the trees. As the rain starts to come down harder, Kyle looks so disappointed. Farmer takes their hand giving it a little squeeze, breaking down that wall of anxiety. He lets out a sigh, expressing his frustration. He tells them that he wanted today to be perfect, now it's ruined because of the rain. Farmer laughs and pulls them down, planting a kiss on their cheek. Kyle's face turns red from the sweet action. He goes to kiss them back, to return the kiss, but as he does water drops down from the top of the trees. They're both soaked now, water clinging to their clothes. Kyle looks down and just laughs. He wraps an arm around them and pulls them in for a kiss. Pulling away, he brushes his fingers across their face and whispers.

"You always find a way to make things better. I don't feel like I have to be perfect all the time, that it's okay to mess up because I know you'll still love me. My worries just seem to melt away. I love you so much."

Heart Event @ 14:

Ever since Kyle moved in he's slowed down, taking better care of himself. No longer piling too much on his plate, so it surprises the Farmer to se him falling back into old habits. Kyle is pacing around the house in a huff. Ike tells the Farmer that their parents called and that they're making a surprise visit soon. Kyle stops his frantic cleaning for just a moment to stress how much he hates this. He's worried that they're going to be mad because he didn't invite them to the wedding, even when they already reassured him that they're not. Farmer questions why they're coming, which Kyle just sighs and tells them that they want to meet his partner. Farmer reassures Kyle that everything will be fine, that they can't wait to meet his parents. He just grumbles and tells them to hold off on that excitement. Once again Farmer calms the man down, Kyle takes a deep breath and watches his beloved partner get to work. Between the two of them and Ike, they're able to get everything together. Just as dinner is finished, Kyle's parents arrive. Kyle introduces the Farmer to his parents who immediately start gushing over them. The dinner table is set and soon the entire family is sitting around the, making small talk. Sheila starts asking Farmer a list of questions, trying to get to know them. Why did they become a Farmer? What drew them to the Valley? >> Honestly? I needed to start over. Grandpa gave me a second chance and I guess I just fell in love with this little town. >> The city life was too loud. I needed something quiet and easy. >> The Valley needed help! I couldn't just ignore it! If First Option: Sheila smiles and puts her hand on her chest. She tells the Farmer that it's incredibly sweet of their grandfather to look after them. She thinks it's great that they love the town that Kyle grew up in! If Second Option: Sheila doesn't agree that the city is that bad, but she goes on to tell the Farmer she grew up a city girl. She does agree that city life can sweep you away if you're not careful, she's glad the Farmer taught Kyle to slow down. If Third Option: Sheila isn't quite sure she understands what Farmer is trying to get at, but if it's what drives them then who is she to argue? She's just happy that Ike's grades have improved and that Kyle is happy. Either way dinner is lively, once they're finished they thank the Farmer for everything. For taking care of their sons and welcoming them into their lovely home. Sheila admits that she was skeptical at first but after seeing how Kyle looks at the Farmer, she's wholeheartedly approves of their marriage. They leave with a quick hug, letting Kyle know that they'll be staying at the tavern for a few days before going home. As they make the trip back to town, Kyle wraps his arm around the Farmer and smiles softly.

"They really like you, not that I had any doubts they wouldn't. You're amazing. I always knew you were, ever since you moved to this town. I'm just glad they love you almost as much as I do."

Random Marriage Quotes!!

"Good morning my love. Yeah... that still feels weird to say but...I kind of like it. Waking up next to you is everything." "Please make sure you're being careful when you go out. I'm not going to stop you, just come home to me. Please." "Look I love you, but please if you have to go to the mines...shower before you come to bed. Shower with you? That-...isn't a bad idea." "Read up on how to take care of crops on my lunch break! I hope you don't mind that I already watered the plants for you!" "Ike really likes all the animals, he actually woke up before to feed them all!" "Do...do you think my hair is stupid? Cartman said something about it today and I know I shouldn't put merit in what he says but...You like my hair? And my nose? But I didn't- God you're too good to me." "I always had this fear of getting married, I was afraid that I'd end up like my parents. They're not bad just...never mind. Just thank you for being my partner." "Hey, take this medicine with you. If you get into trouble it will help. I don't care if it tastes bad! I don't want to find you passed out again!" "I'm taking Ike over to Kenny's today, he wants to hang out with Karen. Feel free to swing by when you're done doing what you need to do! The guys would love to see you." "You know I love you right? And I'll tell you it as many times as you need. You make it so easy to love you that I'm worried I'm not enough."

Tag List: @hunnysnoops

#south park #sp fanfiction #south park fanfiction #reader insert #south park x reader #x reader #kyle brovlofski #kyle broflovski x reader #Kyle Broflovski x Farmer #Stardew Valley #Star Park AU #headcanons #drabbles #shhh its a secret

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dutifullylazybread · 2 days

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just found you, i see a lot of pre and post family with the teefs. what about during? and directly after? how do they care for their partner during pregnancy? especially if its a diffcult one? and afterward when their partners body has changed and maybe they're less confident about the extra weight, softer body, the extra rolls and teh stretch marks that wont go away? how does each bachelor help or make it better ir suddenly realize that is even wrong to begin with? what if they accidentally something bring out that newly found weakness in their partners confidence? ( sorry if youre busy i know you got stuff to do- i just figured youre the person who could slam dunk these thoughts i had)

Have I... GOTTEN TO THE POINT WHERE I CAN JOIN THE TIEFLING HEAD CANON SQUAD???????

ADDED 4/26/24: This might be a rough list, but I hope you all enjoy!! ❤️

OKAY. I GOTTA ADD CAL. I'M ADDING CAL. THIS SWEET MAN IS A TIEFLING BACHELOR AND DOES NOT HAVE ENOUGH FAN CONTENT... YET.

And thank you for bearing with me--I know that this ask was sent in a hot minute ago! I'm hoping I answered all of your questions; I got to a point of this sitting in my drafts where I just felt bad about how long it had been there, so I tried to be thorough but I wanted to get this out sooner rather than later. I mostly worked on this when I had a few spare moments between chapters, and then I said "screw it. This is getting done. TODAY."

So, for Cal, Rolan, Zevlor, and Dammon--let's go!

DISCLAIMER - I do not have children myself, nor have I ever been pregnant. So I shall do my best!

JUST IN CASE - A CONTENT WARNING: While writing these head canons, I did refer to the tiefling's partner as "you." If reading about being pregnant makes you uncomfortable for any reason, please be aware and be kind to yourself. I have zero doubt in my mind that I will be creating another head canon list, so if you need to pass or wait on this one, that's absolutely okay. Your mental health is important.

Cal

While Cal's partner is pregnant, he will do absolutely anything and everything to make sure they are comfortable. To say that he is doting is putting things very mildly.

He will make your favorite meals, will go out and get whatever you are craving (late night runs--not a problem), will rub your swollen ankles.

Too hot? He's asking Rolan for a cantrip scroll to fix it. Too cold? He's already piling you with blankets.

Are you feeling sick and nauseous? He's already prepping something for you to eat/drink that doesn't have an offensive smell.

And if it's a hard pregnancy? I don't see him leaving your side. If he does, he has Rolan create a sending stone set for the two of you so that you can reach out to him for anything and everything.

Honestly, he doesn't get far enough for him to even use the sending stones. He is looking for anything and everything to make the pregnancy easier on you. If he wasn't a light sleeper before, he is now because he doesn't want you to lay there in pain.

There may be points where he feels helpless because while he can do things to try and alleviate any physical discomfort, there are just times when he might just grasp at straws.

And, in situations where he can't alleviate your physical discomfort, he will do what he can to distract you.

He keeps his stress managed well enough, but that doesn't mean he won't snap at Lia or Rolan if he is too anxious. If he does get openly frustrated with them, it takes both off guard.

I also think he just holds you. A lot. Part of that is to comfort you, and the other part is to assure himself that everything will be okay.

If his partner is dealing with body image issues after giving birth, I see him being confused. You? The most enchanting person he has ever known?

Cut to him kissing you and holding you whenever possible. He'll ask Lia and Rolan to watch the baby whilst the two of you go on outings when your health permits. If it helps you to hear it, he'll remind you how lovely you are. Frequently. Hourly. Every five minutes? Not quite, but close enough.

Personally, I don't think his doting goes away after the pregnancy. And, if it is too much, it might make you feel like he views you as helpless.

If you give voice to this, he goes into immediate mediation mode. He will be extremely apologetic. He loves you and never wants you to think he perceives you as anything other than the phenomenal person you are.

Rolan

Ugh. My beloved.

He might be more stressed about having a child than you are.

He never anticipated being a father, and that might be for 15+ reasons, but he feels drastically unprepared (even if the pregnancy was planned).

He reads every. Single. Book. On pregnancy. He is the parent who gives himself nightmares when he reads about birthing complications.

Every sign of discomfort that you show is a catastrophe on the horizon.

And if it's a difficult pregnancy? Yeah. Dial that up by five notches.

He is preparing for all worst-case scenarios.

If it weren't for Cal and Lia keeping him in check, he would be safety-proofing everything in the tower.

He crafts sending stones so you can call for him if you need anything. ANYTHING.

But also, he starts shadowing midwives and asking lots of questions. If the worst were to happen and you couldn't reach a professional, he wants to be there to help you.

After giving birth, I see him splitting his anxiety between your health/recovery and the baby's overall well-being.

"The baby sneezed. That might indicate five different lethal illnesses. I'm fetching the cleric."

This is another situation where you, Cal, and Lia might have to remind him that, yes, babies do sometimes sneeze, and not everything that lands in the diaper spells doom.

Rolan might not initially understand why you're feeling self-conscious about any weight gain. Of course you're lovely. Also, isn't that what happens with pregnancies? (His words--not mine).

He assures you that you're lovely, but words might not be enough here. He might shove his foot in his mouth while trying to make the situation better.

But the best thing for him to do is remind you, repeatedly, that you are lovely. And that might not have been something he was accustomed to even saying to you prior to you conceiving. He would assume you knew that he was attracted to you.

It honestly might be the strangest (and most endearing) thing to have him say "You look very lovely today. Yes, even with the baby's spit up on your shirt."

Zevlor

*nervously staring at the tiefling I am the most unsure about writing.*

*cracks my knuckles and cries because it hurt like hell*

Zevlor has been through some of the most heinous things that can be thrown at someone. He is a seasoned soldier. A Hellrider. Surely he can help his partner through pregnancy. After all, there were plenty of soldiers in the barracks who has pregnant spouses. He's heard enough stories that he feels prepared.

He survived the Elturel's Descent. It's possible that he helped safeguard someone who was in the middle of giving birth or guided expecting parents to safety. Maybe he had to fight off the devil's skulking the streets if they caught wind/heard that person enduring birthing pains?

So maybe, he thinks, he has already seen some of the worst births ever. Maybe, he thinks, in this time of relative peace, in this home that he and his love have created, it'll be easier?

My personal headcanon for Zevlor is that he put EVERYTHING into being a Hellrider/paladin. It was his life. It was his every breathing moment. And when he became an oathbreaker, it destroyed him. His life was devoted to protecting others, and he feels that he failed in the worst of ways possible.

He certainly had friends and very possibly family that he would see on occasion, but I think that, if you didn't fight alongside him/live in the barracks too, you very likely didn't see much of him.

So maybe he has heard a great deal about pregnancies. And maybe he knows about the complicated ones--just a bit. But he himself is at a loss for when his partner tells him that they are pregnant.

Is he excited? Absolutely. Is he terrified. Oh yeah.

Regardless of how complicated the pregnancy is, he is nervous. He is worried that he will slip up in all the ways that matter, and he is terrified of letting you down.

He's a soldier though, and he prepares for everything.

He has additional blankets and pillows next to the bed.

Hot and cold compresses are ready to go.

He makes sure that he accounts for your cravings whenever shopping.

He has medicine for when the pain is severe. And when the medicine doesn't cut it, he tries his best to distract you--his mileage varies.

And this man adores you. So after the pregnancy, if you are feeling self-conscious, he will worship your body.

Dammon

I could see Cal and Dammon both being very doting, but Dammon would be juggling the forge and helping you.

If you spent a lot of time in the forge with him prior to pregnancy but find that being in there now makes you feel ill, he will absolutely feel lonelier. He is definitely the sort of person who gets very absorbed in his work, and I think this makes him feel guilty. Especially if he feels like him being there could have made things easier for you.

He becomes a meal prep king. Will cook several comfort meals for you to eat while he is working.

Massages swollen ankles and feet and anything else.

While he might have worked later hours in the forge before, he makes a point to wrap things up sooner to spend evenings with you.

That doesn't mean he isn't nervous--you're about to have a child, and he does worry if there will be enough money.

He worries that if he does slow down, commissions will dry up, and then where will that leave the three of you?

If the pregnancy is difficult, he feels guilty for leaving you alone and looks for hundreds of ways to make things easier.

Eventually, he creates a small sitting space for you near the doorway to the shop itself. It's not so close to the forge that you'll be uncomfortably hot or so close that the smell will make you sick, and he sets up a small tarp to create some shade.

If you helped Dammon in the forge before the pregnancy, he is likely hesitant to have you come back and immediately help. Especially if the birth was difficult.

But what you need, more than anything from him, is time

And Dammon wants to be a parent who is present in your life and the baby's, so he does everything to be there.

But money is still a stressor. And he might worry about you being in the forge again. So he's stressed on all fronts.

And while I don't see him commenting or changing how he treats his partner because of weight change, I do see him being VERY reluctant to have you work in the forge with him.

And this may lead to an argument. You know he is stressed about commissions and being there for you and the baby, but you still want to help.

So Dammon dials it back several notches and agrees that you know your body best. So long as you feel comfortable working in the forge, and so long as you listen to your body, the two of you can start it from there.

And it gets easier to balance the forge and child rearing. While the baby isn't allowed close to the open heat/flame until they fully understand why they must be careful (and until their lungs are developed), you and Dammon create a small swing/play area nearby.

43 notes · View notes