#and the only reason im writing it down is because i always use my tumblr to jot down random thoughts

[fangel]

KIPO, MY LOVE !!!!! ｡･ﾟ･(つㅿ⊂)･ﾟ･｡ i may or may not have read this live commentary over several times bc the joy it brings me like omg praise kink going brrrrr anyways i will also ramble a bit with you bc YOUR MIND ?? THE ANALYSIS YOU DID !!!! you Get It 🤍

this is so messy and i’ll try and get to everything — my life has been so hectic from my phone breaking to new meds that sedate me and now having a boyfriend who is so clingy that i don’t have a moment to get online and open tumblr / reply abdwbaknaksoa (not hating on him but DAMN !! i have to get back to my people 😭) anyways, I LOVE YOU SO FREAKING MUCH, KIPO !!!! 🤍☁️

small towns and their many churches like WHAT IS GOING ON !!! being a small country town girl myself i literally just imagined this setting as where im from bc its too easy !! like there’s not shit here but oh wait !!! there’s 10s of churches….

i believe that everyone can find a piece of themselves in this mc. she’s so me and i LOVE that so others can related to her as well </3 WE LOVE A CURIOUS AND VIOLENT GIRL SHES SO RAW AND BEAUTIFULLY HUMAN !!!

insane and dark sided is what i know best. had to do it to em 😞

I DIDNT REALIZE I MADE HER LIFE SO MISERABLE I WAS JUST LIKE YEAH LORE LORE !! THERES A REASON SHES LIKE THIS. and it’s straight depression LMAO

YES !!! I was heavily inspired by the Pearl, X, and Maxxxine trilogy. literally Pearl is one of my favorite movies and I was watching them back to back while writing this 😭 with Ethel Cain was playing so yeah it’s HEAVY in this story. I love that you realized this hehe <3 !!!

NOT THE WAKE UP AND DAY ONE 😭😭😭

UGH ZHAJSKAJAOWLAPAO HEHHEHE thank you so much my lovely sweet angel baby Kipo ): this paragraph of feedback literally feuls me and makes me want to keep going and improving. i cannot explain how much this means to me honestly <3 !!!!! i literally put my whole pussy into writing this fic and even reading it back im like how the hell did i do that.. how could i ever top this ??

I WILL PUBLISH A BOOK ONE DAY !!! (i scream through the tears and anxiety of actually sitting down and writing a whole book)

THE STUPID FUCK EVIL DAD WAS THE PROBLEM FROM THE START !!! there had to be a villain and he was it.. #NoRegrets

YES !!! i love your brain and critical thinking skills like thank you media literacy 🤧 !! the toxic environment mc grew up around with religious parents who are anything but holy yet portray a ‘perfect and clean’ simple life etc. my brain fog is so bad i can’t explain but i know you understand it perfectly I mean you clearly hit the nail on the details here 😭 ily ily ily AND NO YOURE NOT READING TOO MUCH INTO THINGS LIKE YOURE SO RIGHT AND PERFECT ABOUT EVERYTHING YOU COULD DO NO WRONG OMG KISS ME I MEAN WAIT—

coward mother and insane father = hot deranged socially underdeveloped daughter. i speak for all the people (not just daughters) of tumblr. like we’re all on here and none of us can possibly have perfect parents.. we’re here for a reason……….

SIDE NOTE MY FUCKING WIFI KEEPS CUTTING OUT AND I KEEP LOSING PLACE ON WHERE I AM SCROLLING ON MY LAPTOP IN THE REVIEW IM SO SORRY IF I MISS POINTS YOUR MAKING UGHHSHHSHAKSNAK

OMG YES MC MISTAKING HER OWN DESIRE FOR ANGER IS SUCH A HUGE PRESENCE THROUGHOUT THE STORY !! i don’t think many people noted that but I knew you’d come through ♥️

YOURE THE ONLY ONE WHO POINTED OUT THE MEANING OF THE FLOWERS BEING PURITY AND INNOCENCE AND HOPE OH MY GODDDD 😭♥️‼️ there’s meaning behind all my choices here holy fuck i adore you so bad you deserve the world

stop 😭😭 the singing in the reviews and every comment has me smiling or laughing LIKEEEE this is so fun hehe

I had to make a love story be dark and questionable. because honestly i feel like that’s how love has been for me my whole life. i always wondered if i was capable of being vulnerable around others and able to reciprocate kindness in the traditional relationship type way and i honestly just let it all here. like this is just me speaking through a fan fiction 😭😭 and im so beyond happy that others relate bc it gives a sense that it’s normal to feel this way. it’s still human to doubt and hate yourself bc of how life has treated you. i’m rambling and idk what im saying anymore *cries in corner*

THE LAMB !!! everything you said is *chefs kiss* I need to send you stickers and love letters and candies and all things sweet because Yes. i love symbolism and metaphors. i will eat it down every time. — the lamb, the blood and cleanse, the tears, the teachings and lessons of giving / stripping innocence or purity. she hates her father but cannot help but resemble him because it’s so ingrained into her. and sunghoon is NOT like the other lambs !!!! YES SAID IT !!!!!!!! he does challenge her and all the ways she never expected. they balance each other so well :( yin and yang, the sun and the moon. AND REDEMPTION!!! another big part of the story !!! SHUTUP KIPO :(( ♥️ i can’t.. you will be hand delivered a copy of this physical from me as well as 1 million dollars bc FUCKKK you just GET IT — i love your passion 🤓👆🏼

IM GIGGLING AT THE COMMENTS I CANTTT IM SMILING SO MUCH AAAHAHAHHHHHHHHH

i have such a strange relationship with religion. the jesus fandom ruined it for me 🙄 like why can’t we just enjoy the aesthetics and cool lines from the book. why are people so sick and twisted about it like it rules how we live our life?? i could say more but ill stick with that….

BEING UNCOMFORTABLE WITH COMFORT PEOPLE ‼️‼️ we exist ‼️‼️ and i will represent them 😏

ATTIC ANGEL REFERENCE !!! 📢 also I do imagine that this is the same universe and Jake before Attic Angel takes place…… i don’t remember all the details from AA but I know I mentioned a private religious college he went to and yes this is that. my multiverse. also noticed how HoP mc can always pinpoint a ‘bad’ man… she notices things — YOU ALSO CAUGHT THE OTHER SMALL JAKE REFERENCE !!! YESSSS everything has a purpose

YEP !! for the first time, during actual sex, SH isn’t crying but mc is… oh how things change

I WAS DEADASS JUST USING MAXXXINE FOR INSPO HERE LIKEEEE “I KNOW NO PUNISHMENT, ONLY MERCY” is my just version of “I WILL NOT ACCEPT A LIFE I DO NOT DESERVE” HEHEHEHE

#UnlearnShame

My dear Kipo, I just read all of your kindness with the absolute biggest smile on my face. This means the entire world to me and it’s because of people like you that I believe I can pursue my dream of one day being a published author. I know this is ‘fanfiction’ but I truly do my very best whenever I write. I sometimes question if I take my ‘hobby’ too seriously or if i’m wasting time on something that may lead to nothing but when I read responses like yours it gives me hope that I can continue to do great things. I have such a passion for storytelling and it’s one of the only things i’ve ever loved doing and am actually proud of, so thank you. Thank you so so so freaking much for taking your time to not only read my story but also give such lengthy feedback. In genuinely gives me hope and happiness like no other. I love you so much not only for this but for inspiring me to get back into writing. (I will be front row and center of the stage for The Lighthouse rework because it’s truly that story.) I mean this with every fiber of my being that I owe it all to you. You’re not only a beautiful and talented soul, but an inspiration to many. Thank you, thank you, thank you. ♡ I wish I could show you how much this means to me the words aren’t enough i fear

and i’m sorry if i missed anything, having shitty wifi and a broken phone is fcking me rn :(

harvest of purity — sunghoon [ 박성훈 ]

pairing ⦂ sunghoon ⨯ fem. reader

synopsis ⦂ au in which an innocent, shy, and faithful sunghoon takes a summer job as a farmhand. he’s never indulged on his desires until the farmer’s daughter shows him a taste of sin. although riddled with guilt, he cannot deny or escape the new rousing feelings that impurify him. especially when she's set on ruining him every chance she gets.

genre ⦂ smut, slow burn romance, strangers to lovers word count ⦂ 29k tags ⦂ fluff and angst, repressed desires, innocence loss, guilt and shame, exploring relationships, falling in love, southern gothic vibes, summer au, clingy down bad sunghoon, ‘mean’ morally gray reader, both are weirdo loser freaks content advisory ⦂ mdni ! dark-ish content ⚠︎ sexually explicit content in four scenes: handjob, oral (m. rec.), dry humping, thigh fucking, unprotected sex, virginity loss, corruption!kink, degradation!kink, praise!kink, switch!hoon, he whines whimpers and cries; religious themes, concepts, corruption, and criticism; manipulation, animal death, blood, intense scenes, abusive parenting, gun mention and use

note ⦂ poured my heart out. i hope you love it as much as i do. dedicated to my other evil, off-putting, and/or weird girls┊reblogs and feedback encouraged ⇀ playlist ⸝⸝ masterlist 🌾

　You’re not sure what life in your small town was like before you were born. You can imagine it’s not too different from what it is now though. The thing about old country towns is they never seem to change. Open fields and miles of farmland. Two gas stations, one grocery store, a few family owned vegetable stands or in-home produce product shops. Only one notable neighborhood where the majority of the townspeople lived if not hidden somewhere else in the countryside. And too many churches to keep track of if the abandoned ones were included in the count. 

You like to think your parents were happy before you too. Hopeful and optimistic when offered to take over your uncle’s farm. Excited for the next step in their relationship after their marriage. They were the ideal family dream coming to life: high school lovers, engaged after graduation, married, a career handed to them through family with a large property of land and lovely farmhouse. All that was left was to grow that family. To have children to not only help tend the fields and animals but run around barefoot, all smiles, and wide eyed. 

You were positive that it was something they wanted. 

But life couldn’t have been that easy for them; it would’ve been too gratuitous of a blessing.

The day you were born, your father knew there was something greatly wrong with you. He claimed that on the day you ripped your mother open, screaming and crying, that God spoke to him for the first time. He called it divine intervention. Believing the birth of your soul was a red-herring of all that was set to come but God would show him the light, the truth: that you were nothing short of evil and needed saving. 

That year on the farm there was nothing but death. It only furthered your father’s harsh thinking of you. The crops and produce either died or rotted before it had the chance to grow or ripe. The animals were dropping dead from unknown illnesses. Every female livestock that gave birth passed in doing so. Barely any profits were made that year. Taxes were rising and so were the prices of nearly everything. It was a huge toll for your family, especially when raising their first child. Before you were even conscious of the situation everything was already deemed your fault. 

Through the harrowing struggle, your father’s optimism turned to resentment. He claimed that bringing you to the farm was not like bringing a daughter home, but a corrosive parasite. He believed that you were the reason for the life being sucked away from their perfect farm life. So, he turned to the only thing that he could trust to save the family from your curse: God. Begging and pleading through prayers every morning and night to the sky for a better season. 

He studied religion here and there before taking over his brother-in-law's farm but with the farm failing for the first time, he took a change of career paths. He was already well known among the locals, close with the church goers in the community. And somewhere along the way, he managed to start preaching himself. Nearly every christian in your town moved churches to follow where he went. Like sheep to a shepherd. 

If only they knew what you did, what he was truly like behind the closed doors of your home. How his devotion was turning to violence. Day by day, becoming uglier. 

While your father busied himself with his new found family, often away from home on the farm, the crops and animals began to thrive again. Slowly but surely, growing and regaining health. He would say it’s God’s doing, a small taste of His salvation. 

Your early years were mostly troubled by the relationship of your parents. Too young to fully understand their disputes, drawing at the kitchen table with their yelling sounding the house. It was always about you, that much you knew. Because you watch and you listen. Quick to learn that they tried for another child but never had any success. They wanted someone else to be their baby. Something that felt more like a blessing than you. Your father constantly spitting in your mother’s face that you were the rot to the fruit of her womb. And then he would always end up leaving by slamming the door and your mother would always join you at the table with tears and a bottle of wine. You always just watched, listening in silence. Perhaps just born resilient.

Growing up was different for you compared to most of the kids in your town. You never had the opportunity to make many friends being homeschooled. The only time that was spent around others your age was kindergarten. Kindergarten was short lived because of your behavior; the teachers at school were concerned about you. How you were mean, rough, and sinister with your actions towards others. Picking on the kids you were simply interested in because of how different from you they were. Drawing pictures of gutted cattle or dead, half developed baby chicks still in their shell and giving them as gifts to the teachers. Sharing to classmates the cruelty of farm life and why it was pretty with a smile. 

Your father loved to find out about this, you could see it in his eyes. The way they were wicked and screamed I told you so to your mother. You didn’t understand why it was bad or caused trouble. You were only having fun for the first time. The way the kids ran away crying or the teachers wore faces of shocked horror, it made your insides light up in joy. A new feeling—a sense of excitement. You didn’t know it was sick. And of course, it was taken from you. You were removed from school and your mother became your teacher. Your classmates became stuffed animals and the real ones in the barns. It was hard for you to find that joy you briefly felt with others. 

Sometimes you had a glimpse of it again when your father would punish you. But even that you grew sick of. The mess, the stench of it all. Sticky and red, worse in the heat of summer. He drilled the sick moto for his actions into your head, “I know no punishment, only mercy.”

Father took you both to church more often after that. He had a false image to uphold afterall, one of a happy, God loving family. In his ego he had to prove that his preaching and prayers could fix you, save you. But that was only admitted at home, loud and scary to your mother. Your poor mother, weak and defensive of you, eventually waved her white flag. You wished she kept fighting for you and that she wouldn’t begin to see you the way your father did. 

Childhood and adolescence was a string of questions about yourself. Never quite finding out what made you so bad to be seen as devilish when all you thought of yourself was curious. Perhaps just unlucky to be correlated with negative happenings on and off the farm, always gone without a chance of understanding. Despite it all, you knew well enough the way your parents talked and looked at you was without unconditional love. 

On your 17th birthday, the family dynamic made the biggest shift to be experienced. 

At this age, you had such a strong sense of independence and with the lack of parental guidance and monitoring, you would leave town when you could. Ride your bike down the long road to the bus stop at the center of town and take the bus into the city over. Your mother was generous with allowance and you saved your money well, only spending it on books or trips to the movie theater. A form of escape that allowed you to learn more about the world and all the things your parents tried to keep hidden from you. A way to learn how to be human. 

So when your father was tearing your room apart in search of the same gift he re-gifts you every year, he found some things that made his stomach churn. Every year for your birthday he rewrapped the same, first ever, bible he’d given you. Funny enough that he gave you anything at all considering he never even referred to it as your day, only his day of revelation. And to his disgust, on his sacred day, he found books and journals of explicitly detailed copulation and debauchery. 

He almost fainted. Stumbling over his own feet, hands shaking as he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the words on the pages. That was the only time you smiled on that day. Just for a second. And then a glimpse of hell broke loose. 

In a rage, he destroyed everything. Your mother stood next to you in tears, telling him to stop and stop. Her hands covered her face but she saw everything through her fingers. You only watched in silence, hands balled in fists by your side. A silent hatred and anger coursed in you. He called you names that no man of God should, especially to his own daughter. 

“You’re a disgraceful deviant of Satan! I should’ve known. My own day of revelation is a curse!” You watched him rip pages apart, his voice booming through the house. “Years spent praying for you and this is how you turn out?! Succumbing to nothing but a dreaming whore?!”

A part of you liked his mean words. It was so rare for him to use such colorful language. 

You knew what would come next. He was going to have you ‘cleansed’. Something he always did when he discovered something new and sacrilegious of you. 

But it didn’t come. Because there was no dying, old sheep on the farm at the time. He did make a promise to not forget though. A promise to have you washed in sacrificial, blessed blood on a day you least expected. 

Your father left after that, leaving you and your mother behind. He moved to the city to continue his preaching at a larger church. He became known as the closest reverend to God for miles and miles. Lost in his ways, he only made visits when he needed to sort things out for the business of the farm.

You were content with his departure, yet couldn’t quite understand why your mother missed him. As far as you’ve seen, he was never kind towards either of you. 

　But now, it’s several years later. And although you’re free of your father’s heavy presence and homilies, he still makes his trips to the farm. You can feel the air change whenever he does, as if you’ve gained a sixth sense for his coming. Naturally intuitive to things having spent your childhood walking on eggshells in your own home. 

And today, the air feels particularly chill for summer. The breeze sweeps in through your open window. The forecast called for nothing but sunshine all week, yet there’s an angry, dark cloud hanging over your farm. A foreboding feeling shivers through you, and you know he’s going to fulfill his promise today. You sigh and slide out of bed. “Let’s get this over with.”

You spend the morning doing your usual routine. Brushing teeth, washing your face, then dressing in farm work attire. Your breakfast consists of tea and your mothers homemade strawberry scone. Next is tending to the animals. Your mother usually takes care of the crops and gardening. It’s a quiet and early morning, as most are. The both of you keep to yourselves, just doing what needs to be done day by day. 

The sound of a car is heard coming down to the long dirt road and you know who it is by the sound. It’s a fancier vehicle than the one he left this property with years ago. A meaner part of you likes to think his greedy hands got into that mega church’s donations but you’re too self aware of the successful farm your family owns. 

Your father parks in front of the house and your mother is quick to rush over to him, presumably with many questions: How have you been? Are you hungry? Thirsty? What brings you here so early in the month? 

You roll your eyes at her desperation to cling onto the relationship that clearly ended when you were a child. 

You place a hand on your hip, leaning your weight to the side that isn’t carrying the heavy bucket of chicken feed. Walking away from the coops and back towards the shed by the house, you make eye contact with your father despite only taking a glance. 

He watches you with narrow eyes from the lowered window of the car he’s still sitting in, very much not listening to a word your mother is saying. 

He calls your name before you can open the shed. Spinning on the heels of your boots, you turn around with raised brows of questioning. 

He mouths the words sacrificial tree as he exits the car. Your mother sees this. She wears pained disappointment as she scurries away. Presumably to the barn where the sheeps and lambs are kept. She might as well be a sheep too, you think. 

The bucket slips from your fingers and drops to the patchy dirt grass by your feet with a thud, spilling over in a mess that will be cleaned later. 

You don’t bother giving him a nod of understanding. You just turn around and begin your walk to the tree line where the man made path is. Knowing it would take some time for his preparations, you walk to the lake that’s hidden behind the farmland. 

It’s a brief walk through your familiar woods. Once at the short wooden dock, you sit down at the end, taking in the gloomy summer scenery. A light fog hugs over the water. You bring your knees to your chest, in your sitting position, and hug yourself the same way. 

This is your favorite place out of all the land your family owns. It’s serene, mostly. Always quiet. You’re the only one who comes here. And it’s nice to swim with when the weather warrants it. There’s a feeling here that’s hard to feel anywhere else you find yourself. Sometimes you imagine what it would be like with someone else, but you doubt it would be as nice. Trouble has a way of following you, it seems. You frown at the thought. 

It’s silent like this for a few minutes, just you trying to find a sense of calmness before the impending chastisement. Then you hear some rustling of leaves, heavy footsteps following. You don’t turn around yet, you only wait for the call of your name. Your time of tranquility is too brief. You sigh before giving yourself a squeezing hug. 

“It’s time,” the reverend calls out loudly, “quickly now, we have new farmhands arriving soon.” The sound of his feet walking away is when you stand. You wave a goodbye to the foggy lake before parting ways. Your feet move unconsciously, taking to where your body knows to go. 

Leaves crinkle underneath your boots and twigs snap. The trees’ branches sway in the gentle morning breezes that pass. 

In the mix of the small forest, man made crosses of sticks or plywood are spaciously scattered. Like a graveyard to all your bad doings. Most small but one large. Old rotted wood that stands crooked and begging to fall over right next to the largest, strongest tree. Your eyes, that are trained to ground, move upwards the cross and then to the tree. Your father stands there with a large knife in hand. Your mother waits cautiously not too far away. Her demeanor is frightful as if this is the first time. Coward.

An old sheep hangs by its hind legs from a sturdy tree branch. Unmoving and defenseless. Big beady, dumb eyes look in all directions but you. You think it must feel the same guilt as yourself, sorry that its life purpose is to embarrass you, make you hate what you are. 

“God told me to make a sacrifice to prove my faith. He guides my hand in washing your soul clean of sin. So here I am with our blessed, dying lamb.” He’s said this every time. His voice is always miserably rehearsed and preacher-esque. 

You thought long ago that this was their, the lambs, only use on the farm. It’s a shame. All that devotion has made him so ugly and violent. 

You make small steps closer to the lamb. It’s whining in bleat baas and mehs. Does it know what’s happening? Is it scared? You like the lambs, sheeps. Pure white, soft, and docile. They never fight back. They just take it. I doubt they need restraints. You could hold them above me just the same and they’d never resist. 

“Move faster, for the love of God. Yeah, stand right there underneath like you know how to.” He instructs you, annoyed. His patience running thin as the distant sounds of a truck makes way down the dirt road to the farm property. 

“Okay…” You don’t fight him, with arms crossed behind your back and a hand squeezing around your own wrist, you move closer. Maybe you’re a lamb too. 

Maybe all your father really was is the executioner. 

He raises the knife as he begins to speak, it slides over its cotton, white throat but does not cut, “Revelation 7:13-17 Then he told me, ‘These are those who come from the great tribulation, and they’ve washed their robes, scrubbed them clean in the blood of the Lamb. That’s why they’re standing before God’s Throne. They serve him day and night in his Temple. The One on the Throne will pitch his tent there for them: no more hunger, no more thirst, no more scorching heat. The Lamb on the Throne will shepherd them, will lead them to spring waters of Life. And God will wipe every last tear from their eyes.’” He slits its throat in a quick, harsh movement. The blood spills just as fast, squirting spurts of red before it comes pouring down onto you. “Face up,” you obey even though it brings you rage, “it ought to cleanse those unholy thoughts I know that are still in there.” 

Head raised to the sky with eyes and mouth squeezed shut, you let it consume you. Warm, thick and wet washes down from your head onto your clothes then down to your feet. The smell of animal, metallic iron covers you. It’s sticking to your hair, eyebrows and lashes. You can already feel your clothes clinging to your skin in the dirtiest ways. 

You stand there, drenching in the its blood. Your father speaks again, firm and slow, “Say it with me now, ‘I know no punishment, only mercy.’” All you feel is the animal’s rain of life flooding you.

You open your mouth to speak but are quick to spit and cough out the blood that manages to get into your mouth. Smack. 

“I don’t have time for this,” his voice sounds like an echo, your head is ringing from the harsh swing of his hand. The skin of your cheek stings. He hits like a bitch, you think. “Say it with me now, dammit!” You can feel him wipe his bloodied hand on the side of your shirt. 

You step back from under the red shower. “I know no punishment, only mercy.” Your words align with his in the perfect paced harmony you’re trained to do so. Enunciated, slow and strong, through gritted teeth.

There’s a beat of silence before the sound of your parents footsteps walking away. 

Standing there in red, yet to open your eyes, you breathe out a shaky sigh of defeat. It sounds more like a growl. With the mostly clean hands you kept safely behind you, you bring them up to wipe the blood from your face. You don’t dare to look at the dead animal in front of you. Being covered in it is enough alone to make you feel sick. 

You think of going back to the lake, jumping in and letting the blood wash off you there, but knowing you’d either walk back with further drenched clothes or naked didn’t seem like options you wanted to deal with either. So you just head back to the house. It’s a slower walk than need be, but you just felt like avoiding the eyes of the newcomers, hoping they’d be off in the fields or in a barn by the time you walk through. You feel numb. 

You’re wrong though, by the time you’re passing the barns and coops, the group of new farmhands are already lined up outside the horses’ stable. Your mother is talking to them, although not all are paying attention. Only a few pairs of wide eyes follow you. Catching the sight of you must really shock them but you can’t blame them. Something about this makes you excited. You stop in your tracks and look around to see if your father’s car is gone. It is. The realization feels like a wave of relief and it suddenly feels brighter outside already. 

You take a glance down to your disheveled appearance. Shirt, pants, and boots painted like the barns. You look back to the group, brushing the soiled hair back from your face. Some pieces stay stuck, in the early stages of drying against your skin.

It’s safe to have a little fun. 

You begin a slow walk over to the group. You take a headcount and there’s five of them. Two younger men, closer to your age. The other three look a bit older, not by much but definitely older. Your mother is yet to turn around from whatever rundown she’s giving them. Too dense to even recognize that now none of them were paying any attention to her. 

You creep up beside her and open with, “Hello,” your voice is louder than even you’ve heard it be in a long time. It’s nice to be heard, noticed. You usually avoided the farmhands, but this summer was going to be different. You decided this on the walk over. 

Being cooped up on the farm for so long made you different, it’s obvious to anybody. Not properly socialized in your developmental years caused you to be an anomaly to the ones who did come across you. Enigmatic from far away and up close. Now isn’t the greatest example though, the situation is too clear as to why. 

Your mother turns to you, gasping and jumping back slightly in the shock of your gross state and sudden introduction. “My goodness, girl, whatta ya doin’ here like this?” Her voice is hushed, clearly unsettled with the situation. 

They all just stare at you, open mouthed and bewildered. You take the time to get a good look at each of them up close. Your eyes follow their faces individually down the line. And then they stop. 

At the end of the line is a man more beautiful than the ones you’ve seen in the movies. You feel stuck in time, left with parted lips, staring at the man before you. And far too intently for your character. He stands tall, sharp, pale, and elegant. What is a boy like this doing here? He averts his eyes from you, clearly uncomfortable by what’s before him. He looks uneasy, shifting his weight foot to foot with his hands behind his back. His pretty eyes glance around from you to your mother to the other men and the ground. He simply doesn’t know what to do with himself. You find it dangerously darling of him. 

You don’t even realize the small smile that takes your lips. You step closer to him and he steps back, now looking at you with wide eyes of small fear. You extend your hand to him, it’s coated in drying blood. He gulps and the sight, his adam’s apple bobbing in such a biteable neck stirs something in you. This will be far more fun than you intended. 

You say your name softly for introduction and step a little closer, “Nice to meet you," you feign cuteness as much as you can, looking up at him through your blood clumped lashes. It’s clear to everyone there is something off; there’s little to no real emotion behind your voice and face. 

Your mother eyes you suspiciously as you corner the handsome man, but she says nothing. Sometimes she fears you too. 

He looks from your eyes to your hand, having an internal battle with himself on what to do, “Ah, I am Sunghoon... Nice to meet you too.” His politeness must be stronger than his frighteness, because he takes his hand in yours and shakes it gently. His hand is large in yours, nearly covering it entirely. You squeeze it hard, your eyes never leaving his, trapping him in the scene. 

He wants to look away, to hide somewhere. The way his skin crawls tells him he’s a prey already in the mouth of a predator. And you know he’s nervous under your intense gaze because your hand feels like a lamb is still bleeding above you. His palms are sweating, and it’s nowhere near hot enough for that yet. Your smile grows to a smirk. 

Although you’re wearing the lamb, having Sunghoon’s hand in yours made you feel like a wolf. 

　Sunghoon’s first day of his summer job starts off duller than he imagined. The sun isn’t out this morning and it only intensifies his anxiousness, as if the grey skies reflect his inner emotions. He’s already new to the area, away from home and staying in an apartment not far from his college in the city. A private, christian school that he studied hard to get into with his friend. He wishes his best friend and roommate, Jake, was joining him in this job, but Jake already had plans to teach at a summer soccer camp for kids through their school. 

He found this opportunity through the college church they attend together. A reverend from another church in the city came to visit one Sunday, handing out flyers to the young men in hopes of finding farm help. The pay is good and the bus fairs to the small town over where the farm’s located is covered. He’s never done work like it before, nevertheless was he going to let a simple offer pass him up. 

Things are going smoothly to start, being told how to care for, clean, and feed the animals to crop preservation. Everyone would have their own specific roles on the farm. Sunghoon was assigned the easier of the tasks, either feeding animals or watering and fertilizing the vegetables and fruits crops. He learns there are already regular farm workers that would come throughout the week to collect produce, material, and use the machinery for the more laborious work. And if she wasn't around when needed then they could ask any of the regular employees for assistance or find her at the house. 

As the farm owner is about to give details on the horses’ maintenance, a girl saunters in. And the anxious feelings become of Sunghoon all over again. His eyes are wide, taking in her appearance. The smell of the farm dissipates and putrid copper takes over. The worst part is how calm she appears, and the fact that she’s unbothered with all that she wears. 

He thinks his brain short circuits, everything seeming muffled and unreal. He doesn’t even realize he introduced himself or touched her. It all was too quick and unfamiliar for him to grasp. 

He watches as she walks away, back to the house that sits slightly over the hills and valleys of the property. His expression is blank, blinking slowly at the strange girl then down to his hand that’s stained red too. 

“Don’t pay her no mind,” the woman speaks up, she sounds as if she’s warning them. “Just get yer work done and when everyone’s finished y’all can head back home. I won’t ask too much of ya in yer first month here, alright? That might be a different story later.” She tries to end the statements in humor with her forced laugh. 

Sunghoon nods but his eyes don’t leave his dirty hand. The other men nod along too and give their ‘yes, ma’ams’ in return. 

The woman continues walking them around the farm, listing rules and guidelines they must follow, along with advice and tips for the work they’ll be doing. 

The day flows as easy as it can for Sunghoon. He doesn’t talk much with the other farmhands. He also doesn’t know them well enough to be comfortable in their conversations, so he just exists in awkward silence, sometimes reacting. While they can joke around and find fun in the work, his mind keeps wandering off to the girl from earlier, to you. How your empty eyes held onto his and small hand even tighter. He thinks the palm of his hand still burns from the interaction. 

Around the afternoon time, Sunghoon and the guys are sitting around a picnic table near the house. The sun is beating down on them all now while they chug down water and eat their lunch. The owner was kind enough to provide their refreshments and meals. They were all thankful. 

She adds that there’s a small lodge up the dirt road. It’s a little old but homey and has space with two spare bedrooms if they need to wash up or rest at any time. It was originally built for the farm workers that worked late and needed a place to stay if need be. 

Once done, the boys stand up and talk about what they have left to do. The next bus back to the city isn’t running for another two hours so they speak of taking some leisure time and exploring the farm property. Meanwhile Sunghoon is still sitting, watching them huddled in conversation. He wipes some sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand as they begin walking towards the fields.

Sunghoon, taking what the farm owner had mentioned previously, decides that he’d like to stay inside to get away from the beating sun for a while. So he gathers his trash to throw away in the bin by the road near the house’s mailbox and begins his walk to the lodge. 

Once inside he takes in the rustic, outdated furniture. It’s a little dusty and the floorboards creak beneath his feet but he finds it somewhat comforting. The living space has two couches by an old stone fireplace, a center table with board games and cards, a kitchenette, and a large dining table with enough space to seat six people. 

The decor is very farmers-life-esque. From a cow print rug in the small kitchen area to the antlers mounted on the wall near the dining table. There’s scenic southern paintings hung up along with antique crosses and prints of bible verses, all adoring the faded and peeling floral wallpaper. Above the fireplace hangs a painting depicting Jesus healing a blind man. 

He walks down the only short hall in the lodge to find the two spare bedrooms the woman had mentioned along with a bathroom. He takes this time to wash his hands thoroughly and splash some cold water on his face. With his hands resting on the sink, he stares at himself in the mirror. The cold drops of water slip down his face, jaw, and back into the sink. 

In his mind he’s questioning whether or not he’s sure of this job. It’s all too different from what he knows and he can’t help but feel out of place here. With a sigh, he drops his head and watches the water slip down the sink. 

He jumps slightly at the sudden sound of the front door opening and closing, not expecting the others to join him here quite yet. No noise follows the action for a moment, not even footsteps. Then there’s the sound of a click, like the door is being locked. He straightens his posture and peaks out the bathroom door, listening for their voices or any sound other than silence. It offers nothing to him so he begins to feel tense. 

“Hello?” Sunghoon calls out skittishly, but there’s no response. His heart rate picks up a little and he starts to think the boys are trying to pull some sort of childish prank on him. He leaves the room and makes slow steps down the hallway to the main area of the lodging house. 

As he rounds the corner he doesn’t find any of the boys there though, he just sees you. His heart jumps at the realization. Sitting on the couch, in overall shorts and nothing else. Bare legs crossed and hands against the couch by your sides as you watch him peer around the corner with apprehension. You’re  just sitting there, leaning forward and waiting for him to come find you. 

Cowardly, Sunghoon makes a half turn. He presses his back against the wall of the hallway as if he could hide away or disappear into it. He even closes his eyes, thinking of a quick prayer to save him from this circumstance. 

“Are you pretending to be shy or are you really this cute?” Your voice is teasing, and he can hear the wicked smile in it without seeing. 

Feeling caught, he just sighs and slowly makes his way to the living area. He tries not to look at you, thinking you are too revealing. So he looks everywhere else and then to large windows that give view to the farm; none of the guys are in sight. Most likely somewhere goofing off. All he can see is the fields and farm buildings standing large in the distance. 

He doesn’t move and speaks softly, “I should probably go find the others-”

You speak before he can finish his attempt of an excuse, “Come sit with me.” You pat the space on the couch next to yourself. Your voice sounds welcoming but he knows there’s an undertone of mischief. 

He makes a quick glance to you and sucks in a breath at the view of your body that’s exposed from your overalls. The glimpse of the curve of your breast disappearing under the denim already makes him feel like he’s seen too much of you. And he has. He’s never seen such bare skin on a girl and he’s never been alone in a room with one either. 

“Come sit with me, now.” You’re more stern this time, demanding in a gentle way. Your hand makes small movements, soothing over the material of the couch like you’re warming the space for him. 

He visibly swallows as he makes his hesitant steps over to you. His heart is racing and with every beat there is a question of his strength. He sits down on the same sofa but not directly next to you like you want. You smirk nonetheless and turn to face him, sitting with your legs criss-cross now. 

With your elbows to your knees you hold your head in your hands, watching the side of his face. You’re again realizing how sculpted his features are. Dark thick hair on his head, eyebrows and lashes too. An array of moles sprinkle his pale face. A sharp nose that sits above pink, full lips. You wonder if he knows of his own beauty. It’s fascinating to see such a person like him in front of you. 

He’s sitting with perfect posture, not relaxing into the couch. Alert like a deer that’s waiting for too sudden of movement to pounce away. His eyes just watch the table, reading through the names of the board games that lay there as a way of distracting himself. He’s awkward. 

“Uhm… d-does your family own this farm?” he tries for small talk to break the silence. His bottom lip finds itself between his teeth as he makes one quick look over to you. Luckily your overalls sit high up or he’d have a full view of your chest. He can’t help but think of the fact and it makes him shift uncomfortably. 

“Do I make you nervous?” you question, seriously so. Brows pulled tight in a furrow with a straight face. You lean in even closer to him, watching for every change on his face. 

“Yes,” his response is honestly quick and ends with a tight lip, like he’s holding his breath. He is yet to comprehend what is happening, still in a whirlwind of thoughts of what could—will—happen. 

“Why?” Your head tilts slightly to the side, it makes him think of his roommate briefly. And man does he wish he were here to ease the tension. 

He doesn’t want to admit that he’s never been in such close proximity with a girl alone before, so he just clears his throat and remains quiet after doing so. 

Curiously, you bring a hand up with a pointed finger and brush the tip of it over the mole on the side of his nose. He jolts back at the sudden touch, his cheeks flushing a warm pink. His eyes now watch you with gentle confusion. He touches the same spot you did with a trembling hand. 

“You have a constellation on your face. So many moles… Do you have a girlfriend?” 

His face burns a little more, both from the observation and the question. He shakes his head, sitting himself further into the couch and further away from you. He can’t quite understand the situation. Are you messing with him? You seem too serious for such. Maybe you’re just weird like he initially thought. Either way he can feel his faith slipping; he is cupping holy water in hands during an earthquake. 

“Did I do somethin’ wrong? Am I not pretty?” You pout to be playful with him, acting as if his actions are offending you. He takes it literally though. 

“No!” his hands rest on his knees and he holds them hard, trying to find stability despite sitting down. “Y-you are… pretty,” his words grow quieter, like he’s sharing a secret. “I just don’t know you or why you want to talk to me.” 

“Hm.” You lean your head back against the couch. With your eyes still on his face, you speak just as quietly, “I’m still trying to figure that out too.” After some beats of muted air you speak up again, but with more presence, “You came to work here. Why?” 

“A man was handing out flyer ads at the church. I wanted a summer job.” 

Is he always this direct and boring? And church, of fucking course. You roll your eyes, pushing yourself off the back cushion and even closer to the man. Your knees touch the side of his body and his thigh. He looks like he’s trying to control his breathing, to feign lack of disturbance, but his face says everything you need to know. 

You place a hand on his thigh and his whole body stiffens at the action. Your smirk to yourself. It’s only resting there on the top of his jeans. “You act like a girl has never touched you before.” You give him a soft squeeze and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Well? Has a girl ever touched you?” 

He shakes his head quickly, “No,” he breaks, feeling overwhelmed and wrong, “and I don’t think you should be. It’s against the churches values-”

“At your age you still follow the rules?” Your hand slides lower and back up his thigh, it’s a slow and teasing motion. There’s enjoyment in how scared he’s becoming. 

Sunghoon knows that this is only going to lead him down a path he swore to God not to take. And if his parents were to know that in his first year away from home in the summer since college was locked in a lodge with a promiscuous girl he’d have it handed to him. The thought of their wrath makes him shiver all the more. 

“I just don’t want to sin.” His eyes close and he bites down onto his lip again. He no longer cares if a stranger sees him as a loser or prude. His virtue is being tested in real time, and he’s feared facing this battle many times in the night because even in his dreams he loses. 

“I’m only touching you. How is it a sin?” The tone of your voice changes, it’s soft like the hand that moves closer to in between his thighs. Your fingertips press into his clothed skin here and there, curiously feeling him up. You just try to get a reaction out of him. There’s a warm feeling in your stomach that you don’t recognize; it’s faintly familiar. 

“Your hand isn’t supposed to be… there.” He makes a strained sound, something like a low whine, as your hand ghosts over his cock. 

You look down to your movements for the first time and realize he’s sporting a half chub. You snicker quietly, cupping him in your palm. “Then why are you getting hard, Sunghoon? Do you like the way I’m touching you? I bet you’ve thought about doing this before too.” 

He makes another noise, a whimper. He can’t bring himself to open his eyes and accept what’s happening. He also can’t find it in himself to stop you, or get up and leave. This wasn’t just a struggle with evil’s temptation but his own biological nature. Something yet to be explored, something that’s been scratching at his ribcage for years to be fed. 

There’s too much he can’t admit in this moment. Starting with how he enjoys the sound of your voice, the slight accent and dialect difference he picks up. How the way his name leaves your lips makes him want to crumble like a burning church. And how he silently likes the fact he can’t control the way his body is reacting to your hands on him. 

It’s all wrong, wrong, wrong. And he is weak.

“Answer me, Sunghoon.” Your hand presses down on him, feeling the growing hardness under your palm. You give him a small squeeze, massaging over the bulge. To your surprise he feels big. Your eyebrows quirk at this and then you look back to his face. A single tear runs down his face and you find satisfaction in it. “Lying is a sin too,” you remind him. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his hands fist the couch cushions at his sides. He grips the material so tight that his knuckles turn pink through the pale of his skin. His chest rises and falls through slow and deep breaths. 

“You shouldn’t feel sorry for something that makes you feel good.” You palm over him a few more times, drawing out little moans and whimpers from him. He’s struggling to sit still. You can even feel him try not to push his hips back up into you; if only he would admit that he wants it. He’s practically pulsing beneath you, like there’s never been such a rush of blood to his cock in his life. You sigh dramatically and pull your hand away from him, sitting back to give him space. “That’s too bad. A good dog will always be loyal, huh?”

His eyes shoot open when he feels your hand is gone. He looks at you desperately with wet eyes, a small pout to his lips. You make him feel sick for wanting to ask why you stopped, or if he did something bad for you to take away his short-lived pleasure. 

You smirk at his expression, so pitifully beautiful with want. “Have you ever touched yourself?” you ask, placing your hand over his that hasn’t let go of the couch. It takes you back when he flips his hand around to hold onto yours, clingy and wretched. His thumb brushes over your knuckles. Repulsed, you react quickly and take your hand away from him at his impulsive intimacy. It makes him frown with a meek whimper. 

He shakes his head slowly, looking down to his lap. “I can’t.” He knows he’s not allowed to. His father was adamant through his puberty that he mustn’t succumb to his body’s natural taste for sin. He was told that sometimes the devil had a funny way of sneaking into a man’s mind. That Satan would haunt boys in their sleep to wake them up with guilt of uncontrollable lust to be like him. 

“But you like when I do it, right?” You rest your head on his shoulder and look up at him. His eyes look from your face to the thin opening of your overalls where your chest can be seen from the angle. He bites down hard and nods slowly. You coo, moving your hand back to his still hard, clothed cock. “I can make it go away if you want. You want that?” 

He’s battling all the repressed things he’s been too afraid to explore; fearful of the swing of his parents belt he felt once long ago after being caught in a misunderstanding. In spite of it, he nods again. “It hurts.. Please, help me.” His voice is so quiet. Even he doesn’t want to hear his own pathetic begging. 

Your fingers find the zipper of his jeans then you tug it down slowly as you stare at him. “You have to pull them down for me, okay? I can’t help you with just this.”

Sunghoon freezes for a second knowing he has control over being the one to take out his own cock. Yet apprehension leaves in a breath. Then he’s pulling the clothing down to his knees with frantic haste. You didn’t expect him to take everything off so fast but there’s a sense of pride in how eager you’ve made him become in such a short time. 

You weren’t sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this. His cock is as beautiful as him. Pale and raging pink, crying at the tip much like his eyes. He’s also big, bigger than you knew dicks could be. You thought they’d be ugly, gross and worm-like. But his is clean and pretty. It’s your first time seeing one in person; you wouldn’t let him know that. 

You take him bare in your hands, feeling him like a foreign object. More curious of his body than in his pleasure in the moment. His body tenses then relaxes against the couch. A shaky, breathy moan leaves his lips. His eyes flutter at the contact of skin. 

You squeeze him, making his moan weakly again. It’s heavy in your hand. Truly just a stick of warm flesh. A part of you wants to squeeze him as hard as you can just to see if it can break, but you withhold on hurting him for now. Not wanting to scare him too much in hopes of exploring him further through the summer. 

Your hand wraps around the length as much as it can, pads of fingertips brushing over every vein and curve as you slowly move your hand up and down. When your thumb circles around his tip and flicks the leaking hole, his body lurches forward with a loud cry of a moan from him. You wonder if he’ll cum in the next few seconds of simply touching him. 

“I think you’re a slut for a little pleasure, Sunghoon.” You use your palm to gather his precum, circling over the tip to smear the thick cream around. Then you drag it back down himself, wetting his cock in his own prerelease. It slides easier now, your hand. You move faster, jerking him off in lazy, inexperienced motions. Not that he would know anyways. “You gave into lust so easily, didn’t you? Must’ve wanted this for so long. Your body’s nasty, eager for it.”

In his ears, you make the nasty words sound delicious. And he wants to devour more and more, like the starved man he is. His hips snap up into your hard, sudden and rough. You wrap your free arm over his shoulders, a hand sneaking up into his hair to tug aggressively on the thick dark locks. You’re pulling his head back, forcing him to look at you. “Don’t be a whore. I’m helping you. I didn’t say fuck my hand.” 

“Ahsh- I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he whines, tears burning his eyes, “it, it f-feels good. I feel so good.” His head falls to lean against yours, face burying into your hair. His head makes little shakes as he begins to cry, telling himself no, no. 

“Shut up...” You don’t like how close he is to you. You only like doing so to tease him, but when he does it, it makes you feel a fiery anger in your chest and belly. Uncomfortable. Smothering.

Your hand works in sloppy motions. Pumping his pulsing cock to reach his orgasm. At the tip your wrist makes flicks with your thumb, working him up further and further. 

He stutters out incoherent apologies into your hair throughout his sobs of wanton, whimpering moans. Everything about his body is sensitive to the new sensations. He can’t help but move his hips up into your hand, humping the small fist that’s fucking down onto him. 

Confused by the warm, tight feeling flexing of his abdomen he whines against you, “I can’t- I can’t take it. My body feels weird now. Mmph, ‘m sorry. I don’t know what’s h-happening.” His body feels volcanic, ready to burst. 

You continue your movements, jerking his reflexing length until he’s cumming into your hand. It’s a heavy load of thick, creamy mess. His voice is too close to your ear as he moans a drawn out needy sound. Your face remains plain while you pump him until he’s milked dry. His body flinches and curls into yours through the aftershocks, clearly overstimulated and over-sensitive. His arms snake around your waist to pull you against him.  

You stare down at your hand that was earlier covered in the blood of a lamb and now the cum of a virgin. It looks like fucking snot, you realize with repulse. Without thinking you bring your hand up and lick the strange release. Your face scowls at the unknown taste so you just wipe the rest on your overalls. “You are disgusting,” you mutter. 

Sunghoon remains silent aside from his sniffles, eyes peeking through his bangs to watch what you’re doing. He still hasn’t stopped clinging to your side, as if you could save him from his first lustful sin. 

You push yourself up and off the couch, his body slightly falls to the side where he was leaning on you but he catches himself. He watches you with sad, scared eyes. You stare blankly in return then look out the window to see the group of men walking around the picnic table they ate at earlier. 

“Farmhands will be leaving soon. Clean yourself up in the bathroom.” You don’t spare him another look, you just walk to the front door, unlock it, and leave. You ignore the way he looked like a sad abandoned puppy. Something about it angered you in the same way he was being clingy. 

You walk back to your house with a slight skip to your steps. As you step through your front door, you’re about to head upstairs to your room but stop in your tracks because your mother speaks.

“Hate him all ya want,” your mothers words slur, she speaks slowly and tired-like, “but he was a good man. He used to love me… And then you came along.” You turn to the living room on your left where your mother lays on the couch, wine glass in hand and eyes heavy lidded. “I know what yer capable of. I’ve seen the things ya do on this farm, in this home.. When ya think no one is watching.. He just might be right about you.” You glare at her now. “There is something evil in ya, child. Leave that boy outta yer wickedness.” 

Her wine glass falls to the floor from her fingers and she groans, turning to her side. You stare at her for a moment before walking up to your room. 

Meanwhile Sunghoon spends his next 20 minutes in a spiral of guilt and shame. He cleans himself up in the restroom like you told him to. Then waits, watching outside the window for when the boys are gathered around the truck they drove in from the bus stop to leave in. It was hard for him to get the tears to end. He fell right into sin’s lustful trap and it made him feel so- No, it only made him feel hurt. Stupid. Bad. 

On his bus ride back into the city he prays. Sitting in back, alone with his indignity, and head bowed low so no one could see his red rimmed, glossy eyes. Time goes by so fast that he nearly misses his stop to get off. 

He ignores his roommate when he’s home. Jake, excited and curious of Sunghoon’s first day, is left cold. Sunghoon showers for longer than usual. He scrubs so harshly at his skin he turns red; unable to feel clean no matter how much he washes. He doesn’t eat dinner because he feels he doesn’t deserve to. He gets into bed earlier than most days too. He tries to sleep but the day haunts him, keeping him awake. 

He’s up all night in tears, face in his pillow with the blanket thrown over his head, trying to hide from He who watches. The begs of forgiveness seem endless. 

“Dear God,” he whimpers, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” He doesn’t sleep much that night because he can’t find it in himself to stop humping into his mattress in hopes to chase and achieve the feeling you gave him earlier. His hips rock his aching hard cock into the bed, anguished yet titillated. “Please, forgive me. Forgive me. I’m so sorry.” He continues to cry, drowning in his pillow, knowing he will do it again. 

　The next day on the farm is an early morning for everyone. Sunghoon sits quietly in the truck with the other summer volunteer farmharms. They talk amongst each other about the day’s schedule of duties and tasks. He struggles to keep his eyes open, head leaning against the window despite its bumps from the uneven dirt road. He thought about calling it quits on the whole job after yesterday, but couldn’t bring himself to. It’s for selfish reasons too. The ones that deepen his guilt. 

The arrival to the farm is quicker than anticipated. Sunghoon forces himself to be more alert and awake, starting to pick up on the conversations between the others as he exits the parked truck. 

“Do you think it’s still hanging there?” One says. “The lamb of slaughter?” Another dumbly asks with a snort. “Well yeah, dipshit. You guys think that girl did it? She was weird as hell.” A third voice chimes in, “Being covered in blood and then leaving a dead animal hanging from a tree is creepy as fuck. The lady was right, stay the hell away from her.” He laughs. The others walk away in continuous chatter, leaving Sunghoon by the truck. 

Sunghoon is confused by this conversation and deeply disturbed. He doesn’t follow or press them with questions though. But it will give him much to think about for the day. He’s so exhausted from the lack of sleep, he wonders if he even heard them all correctly at all. Yeah, your whole introduction was strange but killing an animal and acting like nothing happened and then toying with him on the same day? Was all that really something a girl like you would do? He can’t say for sure because he doesn’t know you. 

He goes about his morning tasks lazily. His mind is too busy with the thoughts of you. He thinks of when or if he’ll see you today. You haven’t shown around the farm all day. It’s only an hour before noon, he tries to rationalize with himself. He still ponders throughout his work. What time will you come? Will you mysteriously show up like yesterday? Will you touch him again? Will you let him feel good? Is he forgivable or going to burn in hell for wanting more?

He shakes his head to rid it of the thoughts. Perhaps he’s too hopeful. After lunch time he goes back to the farmers lodge to take a nap. At least that’s the realistic excuse he used. He struggles to even fall asleep because he’s so anxious about listening for any sound of you possibly coming back here. 

His eyes, sullen and tired, just can’t stay open after half an hour of waiting. So eventually he does fall asleep. You never show up. When he wakes up from his long needed nap he somehow feels worse knowing you didn’t visit than he did committing his first sin. 

The following day of work is a repeat. He doesn’t see you at all yet you occupy all of his thoughts. He thinks badly of himself for many reasons. 

　On the fourth day, you finally decide it’s time to check up on the poor boy. You watched Sunghoon mope around the farm for two days and it was cute at first but you’re getting bored again. You did like how his eyes were always searching around, hopeful that every sound he heard from behind or around corners was you. Knowing you had such an effect on him made you wonder how much more you could do to him. 

From the window of your room, you watch when they all arrive. Your mother greets them like she does in the mornings and gives them all tasks that need to be completed for the day. It’s Thursday which means she’ll be out for a few hours to go into town and sort out business for products: cow and goat milk processing for cheeses and soaps. At least you assume considering you overheard her phone call about such the day prior. 

You spend the morning around the house, reading and snacking on fruits, waiting for your mother to leave so you can proceed with your plan. There was some effort into your appearance today. You wear a spaghetti strapped white babydoll dress, lined at the bottom with sewn embroideries. It’s simple and flows nicely above your knees when you walk. You hate it because it alludes to soft purity but at least it feels good to dress light in the summer heat. And it might make you all the more approachable to feeble Sunghoon. 

After about an hour, your mother finally leaves. You give it about 10 minutes before you’re shoving on your boots and leaving the house. Some of the blood from earlier in the week still stains the brown leather; you did clean them off but clearly not to the best extent. You’re okay with that though, it seems prettier this way to you. 

Looking and walking around the property, you see the scattered farmhands busy with different things. The sun isn’t kind today, it’s piercing in brightness and temperature. The sweat begins to seep from your pores in a matter of minutes, making you feel sticky. You run a hand through your tangled hair, fingers getting caught in unbrushed knots that you yank through anyways. You don’t see Sunghoon anywhere that’s directly under the sun. You continue to search around the farm, gaining a few cautious looks from the other workers. As you walk past their gazes you wear a wry smile with a tilt to your head. They look away quickly after being caught staring. 

Some wandering in and out of the different barns and coops are done. He wasn’t in any of them though.  You greet the animals you pass by and give pats to some of the cows. “Have you guys seen him nearby? I’m not a fan of hide and seek.” You mumble to one of the goats, scratching lightly beneath its chin while it chews away at grains and hay. It maas in return. You pull your hand back out from the stable then leave to continue the manhunt. 

It’s when you’re walking by the horses’ stables that you see they’ve already been cared for, telling you that someone was here already. You glance to the smaller shed nearby, having a suspicious inkling that it's where Sunghoon is. You walk to the shed and see yourself inside. And he is. He has his back turned to you, standing at a work bench table and cleaning something off. 

You walk up behind him, the sound of your footsteps being dulled by the scattered hay on the wooden floors; he doesn’t notice that you entered the space, clearly lost in his own thoughts. You tap his shoulder which makes him spin around in surprise, dropping the brushes he was cleaning. 

Sunghoon’s eyes are wide at the sight of you standing so close to him. You can tell he’s lost sleep by the dark circles around his eyes and how his complexion is impossibly paler. His mouth is stuttering to find words, opening and closing. 

You step closer to him and he steps back, his backside now pressing against the table. It wobbles on the uneven wooden stilts that hold it up. Reflexively, his hands reach back to hold onto the table, but he’s using it for his own stability. You simply stand there in between his legs, staring up at his face and taking in all the details that differ from the last time you saw him. He swallows, quietly watching your face in return. 

“I haven’t seen you around.” Sunghoon speaks first, his voice a soft surrender. You feel his breath on your face. 

“I know. I saw you though. You missed me.” You state bluntly, taking note of the little fangs he has for teeth. He probably bites good, you think, licking the back of your own teeth. 

“If you saw me then why didn’t you…” he trails off into a quiet again, closing his eyes for a moment with a sigh. “I wouldn’t call it that.” His eyes open again as he feels your hands on his chest, sliding up his white tank and underneath the sleeves of his denim jacket to his shoulders. He bites down, suddenly stiff. 

Ignoring his response you continue, “How can you wear this when it’s so warm out?” Your hands slide over his shoulders and down his toned arms, the jacket slips down to reveal the toned limbs. Your eyebrows raise at the sight yet your face remains relatively blank. “You’ve got muscle. Good for farm work.” Small hands continue to run over the smooth milk-like skin, learning every curve of his lean built physique. It’s not sexual, just exploratory. 

Sunghoon sucks in a breath, watching you inspect him. He begins to feel flustered, relishing in the contact of skin on his. You notice his tense body and ask him if it’s okay, to which replies a raspy stutter, “Y-yeah.” Your hands slide down his arms and back up to his shoulders. Then down his chest and body to stop at the waistline of his jeans. He has a nice body; he must be athletic. You don’t care to ask in what ways. Your fingers dip into his jeans just slightly to pull him in closer to you, he gasps, his growing cock pressing against your stomach. 

“Sunghoon,” You ridicule him, tsking under your breath at the pressure you feel of his arousal. “Already?” You look up at him but he can’t meet your eyes, feeling embarrassed. You play with the waistline, your fingertips running back and forth between the denim and his skin. “Is this sinning?” It’s a soft question yet mocking. He only shakes his head, nervously gnawing at his bottom lip. “Do you want to?” He whimpers, slowly nodding his head. You take your hands off him, crossing your arms. “You have to tell me. Look at me and tell me.” 

He looks back at you dispirited. He knows that you know what he wants. And here you are making him admit it outloud, both to you and God. “Please.” He begs quietly, hoping it only reaches your ears and not the sky’s. “I want you.” 

There’s that feeling again. The lit match that falls from your throat to the gasoline of your stomach that erupts in flames. Fire to your abdomen and loins; it’s an angry feeling, sparked by his honest admit of want, and for you specifically. You watch him with narrowed eyes while mumbling, “you revolt me.” 

He doesn’t reply to your venomous insult. It stings to hear the degrading words in both his heart and pants; he thinks himself disgraceful too. 

You drop to your knees, hands finding place back on his jeans to undo his zipper. He stares down at you in bated breath, hands still gripping tight on the table behind him. His are pulled down slowly, purposely so. You watch him writher, body and face. “Did you do it again?” you question, looking up at him from below. He would never avow to how the sight of you on your knees alone makes him ache all the more. 

He wants to tear his eyes away from you but he can’t. The image of you in your white dress on the ground before him needs to be burned into his memory. He stutters a mumble of words but you don’t catch anything, if he even said a coherent response at all. You ask again, pinching his thigh. He tries to hum over the strained noise in the back of his throat, “Yes.. I mean no! B-but I didn’t touch myself.”

You try not to giggle, biting the inside of your cheek. Knowing he wanted to feel that way again but couldn’t on his own gave you a funny sense of power over him. One of your hands traces the outline of his hard cock through his boxer briefs. “You make a mess?” He shivers at the feeling of your breath on his suffocating length. He breathes out a ‘no’ while you lick a strip over the material. “Why not? I showed you how.”

He moans softly, trying not to let his hips chase after the feeling that he’s been after for days. “You know I can’t,” he exhales. You roll your eyes, mouthing and licking at him languidly. Your hands are still half tugging at the material that keeps him hidden. A faint pool of precum quickly stains his boxers. 

“Sunghoon,” you look up at him with your chin resting on the bulge. He swallows hard, acknowledging you with a hum. “You will never be free from it. The sin I let you taste will forever linger on the tip of your tongue, begging and licking to taste more in crave. No holy blessed water can possibly cleanse you even if you drown in it.” 

His bottom lip pouts out with a little droning whine. He should defend himself, say that his faith is stronger than he is and that his soul is saveable by mercy. But a part of him also feels that doesn’t want to be. His eyes begin to well with tears. 

“Not even a god could make you pure again,” you give him a small smile and pat his naked thigh before pulling down his underwear. His cock now free slaps his stomach to which he breathes out heavily. You grab him with both hands, giving him one last look before taking the leaking head into your mouth. Hands working on him steadily. 

“T-that’s dirty!” he leans forward with a low sounding moan, his hands on your head and in your hair. Your eyes go wide at this. “Why would you put that in your mouth?!” he gasps, the warm wetness around his tip making him dizzy. “This is so vulgar, oh God, forgive me.” he cries, not pulling your mouth off of him but holding you there. 

You circle your tongue around the tip and over his leaking slit, licking the beads of precum that leak out. It makes your grimace before you lean back, a wet pop as your mouth leaves. “Enough of your penitence, and take your hands off me.” It sounds like a warning to which he complies without question, only a hushed apology. He’s the one who wants to be touched anyways, not you. 

You take him into your mouth again, your lips wrap around him in a painful stretch to accommodate his size. He sits heavy on your tongue that lays flat underneath, doing what you can with it. Your hands at the base work around him, jerking and squeezing him like you did before. You weren’t really sure what you were doing, mainly just mocking the actions you read about in books. It seems to be working for Sunghoon regardless because he can barely hold himself together. Whining and whimpering through fat tears, whole body shuddering from the overwhelming wet heat of your mouth. 

His jaw goes slack, mouth hung open only to elicit a breathless moan. His head rolls back on his neck and his eyes flutter to a close. The feeling of your mouth wrapping around him is hot heaven. His body trembles with the new, sweeping sensation. Stomach already tight with contracting muscles. He thinks he could pass out. 

Watching his face, him, discover and feel pleasurable sin is slightly euphoric to you. You’ve seen it in movies and read of it in books, but it was something you never quite fully explored yourself. There’s been a few instances that you did touch yourself; it always felt empty or like something was always missing. There’s little to no excitement when doing it alone in shameful hiding. Witnessing, causing such debauchery is different somehow. Safer in ways you didn’t dwell in thought on. You do wish he would stop crying about it, you find it pathetic of him in a provoked way. 

Involuntarily, he thrusts himself down your throat with a guttural groan. You gag and cough around him, tears sting your eyes that make you squeeze them shut—refusing to let a single one dare to escape. Now it felt like a challenge. One to which you wouldn’t back down in fear of looking weak. 

Your hands hold his thighs roughly, bruisingly so if you had the strength. You move his body in a small back and forth motion, encouraging him to continue his movements. You’re looking up at him with glazed over eyes and a slight nod. He chokes a sob at the sight, you on your knees not to pray but to devour him.

“Ah, I- I’m sorry. Your mouth is so wet, so warm.” He starts off with shallow thrusts, dragging his cock along your wet muscle. His hips stutter while his world seems to be crashing down. “This is so dirty. You look so dirty. And—ngh—it’s.. it’s so good. It’s so good,” he babbles, pushing himself as far down into your mouth as he can. His tip kisses the back of your throat making you gag around him. Your nails digging into the flesh of his strong legs. He can’t stop moaning and whimpering, becoming a slave to pleasure. 

He watches your face. Hollowed cheeks sucking and swallowing around him, the tightness of your throat around him hugging and contracting through chokes that reverberate your body to his cock. The spit that leaks from your lips and all over him is obscene, such a sinful mess. He so badly wants to grab your head and force himself down further, but his nails dig into the wood of the table instead. 

“Hm, I can’t—” he moans your name, thrusting rougher now. His whole body crumbling in on itself, chasing the feeling of release. 

Then there’s the sound of footsteps and a few voices that follow. Sunghoon sucks in a deep breath, taking a fist to his mouth to bite down onto. He looks at you in fear because of the proximity of the other farmhands right outside. This only makes you smirk around him, a glint of evil in your eyes. He shakes his head hurriedly, stopping his movements—as if that would make you both disappear. 

You push yourself off his cock, licking over your cracked and saliva covered lips. You bring a finger to your lips and shush him. “Be quiet or they’ll find out what a nasty whore you are. Unless you want that.” Your voice is quiet and raspy from the abuse of him fucking himself down your throat. You stare into his eyes intently before taking him back in. He glances from you to the door of the shed, his body shaking. 

You slurp and suck him up, purposely loud and sloppy. A hand jerking off the base that doesn’t quite fit in your mouth. He cries quietly with his mouth open, meek and desperate sounds escape that he can’t withhold. “Please…” He’s whimpering, begging for something that he doesn’t know the context of. 

“Do you think the extra feed is in this one?” A voice questions, the door being opened just a crack. 

Sunghoon quickly tries to bend down for his jeans but you slap his hand away, pushing him back into the table. You grip his thighs and force yourself to take all of him down. You gag around him, eyes never leaving his panicky and fucked out face. His face silently begs for you that enough is enough but you don’t stop, because a part of you knows he doesn’t want you to either. 

“It doesn’t hurt to check, does it?” The other replies with a light chuckle. “Could take a break for some shade too while we’re at it.” The door opens slowly with an agonizing creak, sunlight barely pouring. 

Each passing second feels like an eternity to him. The door is still only cracked, not enough for them to see inside but it’s cutting it close. His cock twitches at the thought of being caught with his dick down the throat of the farmer’s daughter. A blazing adrenaline rushes through him. 

Sunghoon can’t bear it any longer. His hands find purchase on the back of your head, pushing himself completely into your mouth. His hips stutter with a whimper on his lips as the hot cum pours down your throat. “Ah, sh- ngh!” You smack at his legs for him to release the hold, choking for air to breathe. You instinctively swallow around him, consuming his load of sin.  

“You dumbass! The horses are already fed, let’s just go for a water break.” The door slams back on itself to a close. Their footsteps can be heard walking away. 

Sunghoon breathes heavily, letting go of you. His body instantly relaxing back with his elbows on the table to support him. Meanwhile you fall onto your ass, a hand around your throat while you gasp for air through rough coughs. “What the fuck did I say about putting your hands on me?” You rasp before coughing again. The taste of him sits on the back of your tongue no matter how much you swallow. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “we shouldn’t get caught.” He pulls his pants and boxers back up then extends a hand to you, an offering to help you stand back up. 

You scoff, ignoring his hand and stand up on your own. You brush the dirt and stray strands of hay from your knees. “Whatever. We both got what we wanted.” You start to turn for the door to leave the shed with the thought of brushing your teeth in mind. 

Sunghoon, confused as to what you could’ve gotten out of helping him, just reaches for your hand. He grabs you and pulls you back to look at him. His eyes are sad, maybe even a little afraid by your haste to leave. “Y-you’re just going to leave me again?” He sounds broken by the fact. 

“What?” You can’t help but breathe a laugh, “Did you expect me to do more?” You ask with raised brows. 

“No! No, not like that.. But..” He swallows his pride, “I- I don’t know. Just don’t leave yet. Please.” 

You blink at him, scanning his features like a robot in calculation. The pleading of his expression and his words aggravate you. A fiery burning to your insides and the skin that he touches, that he reached for. You look down to his tight grip on your hand before yanking it away. You don’t say anything more, and neither does he. He wipes his eyes from whatever salty wetness is still there. 

A moment of silence solidifies your decision. You beckon him to follow you out and he does. 

For the rest of his work day you remain. You try not to think about why. But subconsciously you know it’s because for the first time someone willingly wants to be by your side. At first you imagine it’s because of what you’ve done for him—gave him what any man desires: pleasure. A man falling into temptation is far too easy. 

Though he doesn’t ask for more and he doesn’t bring it up. Almost like it never happened. 

It seems like he really just wants to be around you. There’s little said between each other. It’s just idle farm work with company. And it’s more peaceful than you expected it to be. He didn’t touch you, question you, or do much at all to bother you in general. 

Sometimes he stares at you, but you do the same to him. He even gives a sheepish smile when he catches you; it doesn’t get returned. That doesn’t bother him though. He thinks you look beautiful on the farm in your dress with dirt covered hands and hair messy from the wind. He hopes to tell you that one day but for now he stays shy, still weary and afraid. 

The sun shines relentlessly unless a cloud mercifully passes by. The breeze is rare yet kind. The animals make their sounds to sing a collective song. The trees and crops sway like waving hands of hellos and goodbyes, depending on where you’re headed to or from. It’s not so bad. 

　Two weeks go by. Time flies by for both you and Sunghoon. He comes to work during the week, and he spends his weekends missing you. He doesn’t know what you two are to each other, and he’s too scared to ask. There’s definitely been changes to the dynamic, however. Subtly so. You still don’t smile, or let him touch you. You roll your eyes and insult him if he’s too emotional. But you’re there. 

Certainly not everyday, but most, you spend his work days with him. It’s easier to be around one another. There can be small talk, usually about the farm or the weather. Still much to be learned about on a personal level, but he’s fine with the pace of the relationship (outside of the unholy acts that are committed). Sometimes you even end up helping him. Or at least he thinks of it that way. In reality you don’t like how he does things and take over to do it yourself. 

You still tease him in your cruel ways. Always ending with him in a mess because he’s easily worked up by your handsy curiosity. He caves into you every time because he can’t fight the divinity that you show him. 

There are other times where you confuse him. You suggest a water break knowing he’d gone hours without hydration under the summer heat. You insist on having him take a break under a roof away from the sun when his skin gets too sweaty or red. Which is followed by a reminder that sunscreen is important if he wishes to keep his milky complexion. It’s critical statements that you provide him, but he can’t help to think it’s a weird way of showing you care. 

Sure, it could be seen as you selfishly saying these things because it’s what you want for yourself, but in the back of his mind he’s very aware of how you watch and cater to him. It makes his heart jump every time and butterflies swarm his stomach. He can’t help it. The little things, the small acts of kindness—that you might not even intend—make him delusionally overthink. 

On the third weekend since starting his summer job, Jake can’t help all the questions he’s been building up and dying to ask. Jake doesn’t understand what Sunghoon has been going through, especially when his moods change so drastically. At first, Sunghoon was self isolating and pouty, clearly in his own head and sulking. But then he would come home from work beaming with an afterglow to his aura. And then on the weekends he was back to his reclusive, depressed state. 

Sick of being left out of Sunghoon’s inner turmoil, Jake finally pesters his friend. 

“When are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Jake stands in the doorway of Sunghoon’s room, staring at his friend who’s laying face down in his bed. 

“I don’t know…” Sunghoon’s words are muffled in his pillow. 

Jake walks in with a sigh and sits at the end of the bed. He playfully slaps Sunghoon’s leg. “Dude, just tell me. You’re obviously going through something. You know I can keep a secret. I won’t judge.” 

Sunghoon rolls over on his back, his hands clasped together over his stomach as he stares up to the ceiling. He confides in Jake, telling his story from the beginning of when he first met you. He stutters over his words when he admits to the sinful acts he partook in with you. He tells Jake of his guilty conscience and how he enjoyed indulging in the feelings. Then he tells Jake about how he simply likes your company even without the sexual circumstances involved. How he’s mystified by your complex personality and only wishes to know you more. However, he does leave out the viciousness of your nature, since a part of him doesn’t quite believe in it. 

“It seems like you’re starting to develop a crush.” Jake laughs lightly, “And if it’s about religion, don’t overthink it too much. Nobody dies completely pure.” He reassures him. “You should show her more of you. That you like her too.” 

Sunghoon groans and covers his face at the terrifying suggestion. If only you were that easy to approach in such a vulnerable way. “I guess… I’ll consider it.” 

The next day is Sunday. Jake and Sunghoon attend church as normal. Sunghoon participates less in his prayers and songs than usual. His mind is too preoccupied with all he has going on in life. He feels guilt and frustration. 

Sunghoon, lost in his own world, fails to realize that his best friend—Jake—battles something similar internally. 

You’re never as alone as you think you are if you take a better look around. Everyone is riddled with their own self disgust, guilt, or shame. How else would the churches be so full? 

　Entering the fourth week of summer should feel easier than it does for Sunghoon. The work seems to be picking up regarding responsibilities. The weather is only becoming less forgivable. The peak is yet to hit, but that only means the seasonal storms are right around the corner. More care is needed in the fields and barns in terms of protection in case of unpredictable weather. 

Aside from the work, Sunghoon is anxious because of you. He hasn’t seen you yet today and he feels nervous about it. Perhaps he has grown too clingy, finding close comfort in knowing you’re there with him on the farm. There’s a sense of safety when you’re in the line of sight; you make things easier for him and he enjoys the presence. 

While he’s watering plants and checking the sprinklings through the fields, an older man approaches him. It’s a familiar face that he’s seen around a few times over the past month. The man waves with a smile and Sunghoon does the same. 

“It’s amazing what you’ve done, boy.” The man begins, Sunghoon questions where he’s going with the start because he’s just an extra hand of help and doesn’t feel he’s accomplished or improved the farm in drastic ways. “I’ve worked here, hm, well I’ll be damned! Nearly 15 years! And I’ve never once seen that farm girl talk to anyone. Much less spend time.” the man chuckles. 

“Oh!” Sunghoon blushes and hopes it’s only mistaken as feverish from the summer. He smiles small and stares down to the bundle of plants he brought with him to the farm today. He feels special knowing this much of you. “She’s something…” 

“Sometimes I’d see her talk to herself and the animals.” The man pulls out a cigarette and lighter to smoke. “She’d walk around aimlessly like a ghost. Used to scare the hell outta me.” As he laughs, smoke escapes his lungs. He wheezes a little before continuing, “But now she follows and watches you like she’s worshipin’. If only she did the same with her daddy. Although with a face like yours, I can’t blame the girl.” 

“Pardon? What do you mean by that?” Sunghoon, bemused, watches the man smoke and laugh between weak coughs. “She has a dad?” His last question is overroad by the man who speaks over him. 

“You keep up your work, kid. I outta get back to mines too.” And then he’s walking away with a low chuckle, shaking his head to himself. 

Sunghoon’s aware of your mother. He always thought it was just the two of you running things. He’s never once seen a man, your father, leave the house or so much so be around it. This gives him more to think about, especially on the fact that he still doesn't know much about you at all. You’re still an enigma to him, but he wants everything. 

By the afternoon when all the guys are finishing up their break, you finally come out of the house. With the sound of the front door opening, Sunghoon is quick to straighten his posture and find your eyes. You’re already looking at him, watching him and his surroundings with no expression. His cheeks burn and he can’t help the smile forming on his lips. 

Two and a half days without seeing you feels like so much longer. 

He stands up from the picnic table, grabbing his newspaper wrapped bundle of greenery and shyly hiding it behind his back. He walks over to you, tripping over his feet as he approaches the porch steps to the house. You stand there in front of the door but at the top of the few stairs, arms crossed and amused. 

He’s diffident, arms behind him and modestly attempting to hide how nervous he feels on the inside. His stomach is doing flips, his heart racing. On top of already sweating. He feels like he could throw up his lunch right in front of your feet. He swallows thickly before slowly bringing his hands out in front of himself. 

“I,” he clears his throat, “ehem, I got these for you.” With outstretched arms, the bundle of flowers shake in his trembling hands. He suddenly feels he’s too nervous to even meet your eyes, so he watches the chipped paint wood of the front porch steps. 

You just stand there, watching him with wide eyes and your heart in your throat. Your mouth is lost for words, glancing around at the few farmhands who haven’t left yet and are staring at Sunghoon’s exchange in a similar bewilderment. Some are trying to keep themselves from bursting out into laughter.

“Are you some kind of stupid?” You whisper harshly for only him to hear, snatching the flowers out of his hands. “Why the hell would you do this?” Your words like your tone are mean, but in your chest there’s a raging pounding. It’s a seething raw emotion that doesn’t know how to be dealt with. You’ve only just stepped out of the house and your body feels like it’s inside a furnace. 

Sunghoon’s head shoots back up to look at you, his face and heart drop. “I-I’ve never had a girlfriend before so I wasn’t sure what to do.. This is what boyfriends do, right?” He takes a hand to scratch at the back of his head. Inner turmoil takes over and he thinks he’s fucked up. He bites at his lip, doing his best not to instantly cry in regret. 

You notice this and sigh, irritated. You look from the neatly wrapped white roses and tulips and back to Sunghoon. “So you are stupid,” you mumble before taking your own bottom lip between your teeth. A part of you wants to sneer, but you spin on your heels to hide the warmth that floods your face in substitution. “I’m throwing them away,” you announce, opening the door and walking back inside your house. 

Sunghoon, broken, just drops his head and turns back. A few of the farmhands are snickering from not too far away, chattering among each other and eyeing Sunghoon. He wishes God would smite him on the spot from the humiliation. 

Wanting to avoid everything for a little while, he thinks of heading to the lodge to lay down in hiding. But before he can walk away, the front door of your house swings open once more. He glances back at you, meeting your eyes like he always seems to do. 

“Done for the day already?” You call over to him, now leaning over the banister of the porch with crossed arms. 

Sunghoon, unable to refute you, offers a weak smile and shakes his head. “No.” 

He walks back over to you and you meet him halfway. You don’t say anything else. You don’t bring up the fact that he had bought you flowers or confused the odd relationship you share for dating. It’s cute in all its blind innocence, but that just goes to show you that you have more work to do with him. 

You don’t think of messing with him today. He’s distinctly grown too clingy with how much time you’ve spent with him. Yet you can’t ignore him either. The two of you carry out the rest of the day’s farm work in silence. The inner fury you feel with him doesn’t seem to go away, despite how he hasn’t said much or even brushed skin with you. 

You don’t know how you’re remaining pacific by his side. The rampaging of your heart strings tug like a screaming instrument just from being next to him. How he can keep walking tall, stare at you when he thinks you aren’t looking, or even smile at you is beyond what you know is capable of humans. Men like him only existed in books and movies. You wonder if he’s perhaps playing a game like you.

By the time he’s in the truck to go back to town to catch a bus into the city, you’re sitting at the lake dock. Criss crossed legs, a bouncing knee, and fingernails being ripped at by your teeth. You stare blankly at the water, hoping for that sense of serenity to encapsulate you. It never seems to come. It just feels cold.

So you decide on punishing him for making you feel this way. 

You don’t leave your house for the next three days. You don’t make yourself known, heard or seen. However, you’re peeking out every window of your house to get any chance of a view of him. You hate yourself for being so curious of him in the first place. What was supposed to be good fun has only left you feeling angry. Taking his innocence was never going to heal you, or even make him like yourself. In fact, it’s making you sicker.

And on the night of the fourth Thursday, you’re laying in bed staring at your ceiling. A stuffed animal is hugged tightly to your chest. You can’t sleep and you can’t stop thinking about someone for the first time in your life. No amount of tossing and turning, counting sheep, or button presses to your distorted singing, stuffed bear made it easier. 

Somehow, you ended up punishing yourself. You always had a knack for that, historically, but this time felt different. It actually kind of hurt. Being alone came naturally to you, but tonight it hits you just how lonely you’ve always been. 

　Friday, the farmhands are huddled on the front porch of your house. All the animals are safely away in their designated homes thanks to their help. It started to storm in a heavy downpour only minutes ago. What started out as a dark gray gloom and windy rain quickly turned into an early flooded property, illuminated by strikes of flashing lightning and roaring thunder. 

You stand dry under the protection of the porch roof by the front door. Watching and listening to your mother suggest the shaking cold, soaked men take shelter in the lodge until the sky lets up so they can head home. 

Sunghoon hasn’t spared a look to you all day, but you know that he feels his eyes on you. It’s in the way he shifts awkwardly amongst the men that ignore him. How his eyes are trained low and unfocused yet always trying to move in your direction. His wet hair falls over his face, concealing his emotions you wish to dissect. He comes off as stoic but you know he wears his heart on his sleeve; how his body language speaks volumes. 

Your mother pushes past you to get back inside, saying she’ll check the basement for a spare heater that the boys could use at the lodge. There’s something in you that makes you move without thinking. Suddenly a hand is tugging at the bottom of Sunghoon’s damp jacket for his attention. The material is too thin for this weather and the thought of him becoming sick crosses your mind. 

“It’s warmer here,” your words, for once, came out soft. Too much so, being lost in the cracking sound of thunder. He looks at you through his bangs. The wave of alleviation from whatever he was dealing with is palpable. His eyes and body almost look relaxed. You tug him towards you once more, insinuating that he follows you. 

He does. Like whatever subconscious emotion made you approach him also made him follow you in. As he steps in, he notices the indistinguishable vibes of the farmer’s lodge. It’s updated and cleaner, but similar in aesthetics. A shotgun sits leaning up against the wall by the front door. His brows furrow and eyes narrow. “Those aren’t safe to have lying around…” he mumbles. 

You tug him towards the staircase to walk up, “It’s protection. Only my mother and I are here,” is mumbled back as you lead him up the wooden, creaking stairs. Your feet move light and quick, like a mouse in a home not theirs. If your mother saw you, there would be unnecessary consequences. And the possibility of your father’s involvement would only worsen such. 

Sunghoon cautiously steps into your bedroom, his body tenses at the sound of you shutting and locking the door. He feels on edge, wrapping his arms around his shivering body and soaked clothes. You move around him to sit on your bed, telling him to remove his sopping attire. He does so with shaking hands, leaving him in nothing but his underwear. He shyly looks around the room while using his hands to cover his manhoon. 

His eyes scan over you, sitting quietly on your bed with a look of contemplation that stares past him. A wooden cross hangs on the wall above your bed, the dark wood matches the decadent bed frame. The nightstand nearby has a pile of books and journals with a low light lamp and unlit candle. 

The large window has sheer white curtains drawn open and a vase on the windowsill. A glass vase filled with the flowers he gave you earlier in the week. His heart aches at the sight of the still healthy white roses and tulips, and a smile graces his lips. You liar! You kept them! Is what runs through his thoughts. 

Without Sunghoon realizing, you got up to grab a towel and drape over the back of his shoulders. He’s taken aback by your ghost-like actions, but offers you a small smile of appreciation. “Thanks…” 

You nod for response and glance from him to the vase of flowers he was lost in thought over. You didn’t have it in to explain yourself, mostly because you didn’t understand why you had done so either. 

He dries himself off and finds a place to sit at the end of your bed. You’re on the other end with your back pressed to the headboard, watching him, counting every mole you can find on his pale canvas. The stuffed animal you sleep with is being mindlessly fumbled around in your hands. 

Sunghoon turns to face you directly, he reaches a hand out, eyes shifting from your face and the winged bear. You shoot him a mean look at first, only holding it closer to yourself before your face softens to slowly extend it out to him. 

He takes it with careful hands and looks down to inspect the old toy. Its cream colored fur is dirtied and matted with age. The holographic satin wings on the back have loose stitching and its halo is crooked. Across the chest of the bear reads ‘Jesus Loves Me’ but it’s obvious the sewn name Jesus has been ripped away at. One paw has a red heart embroidered saying ‘press me’. His thumb brushes over the button heart before pressing down. The bear sings in a distorted happy voice the lullaby of Jesus loves me. 

“His name is Saint Michael,” you say quietly and he almost doesn’t catch it. Sunghoon can only breathe a laugh because he finds the dichotomy cute. You almost laugh too, but bite your tongue and look back to your empty hands. You don’t know it but he can see you try to fight your little smile. To him, this moment means more than anything; he’s starting to see you’re more tender than you realize. It brings him a sense of surety in knowing that he can break you like you to do him. 

Silly as it may seem for a troubled girl, the bear was the only comfort you had throughout childhood. There was no kindness from your father, no solace from your mother, no guide in knowing life or love. But there was Saint Michael, the stuffed angel bear; he may not have defended you in battle but he hugged you back, and that was enough to cherish him like a deity. 

Sunghoon crawls across the bed and sits himself next to you, too close for your liking, but you don’t push him away. He hands the stuffie back to you and you place it on the nightstand to face away from you. You lower yourself in the bed, shuffling under the covers of the blanket and he does the same. His skin naked bare yearns for more warmth, yours specifically. 

You feel him turn on his side next to you, pressing up against you despite there being enough space on the bed. His movements are awkward and nervous like he is. You feel a certain pressure against your thigh that isn’t his bones or limbs. You spare him a glance, he doesn’t know if it’s a warning or dare. 

“...Have I ruined you?” You wonder aloud, looking back to the ceiling. 

“No,” he answers quickly, shaking his head against your shoulder. The way he’s missed you in his desire to touch you, hands tingling with want to snake around your waist and pull you in tight. “I think I just want you all the time now. I can’t help it, m’sorry.” He sounds ashamed in his soft mumbles. 

“I’ll only keep stripping all that purity from you. Once it’s mine it’ll remain mine, you know that right?” You look back at him before brushing some of his drying hair from his eyes. He tries to lean up into the touch but your hand is taken back. “And I will pretend it’s healing all that’s missing from me. Do you really want to be mine, Sunghoon?” Your words are so gentle yet laced with threat. 

“Yes,” he exhales, “I want to be yours. Let me be yours please.” It’s hushed, a secret prayer with hope. His hips push further into the skin of your leg, where the hip meets the thigh. He wouldn’t mind going to Hell if it meant more time with you. 

“You beg like a needy barn animal in heat.” You use a hand to cup his face, he sighs into the hold as he eyes flutter to a close. You push your leg in between his, terribly close to his exposed and vibrating body. “So hump me like one.” 

“W-what?” he stutters out before licking over his lips, his thighs squeezing around the plush of yours now trapped in his. His eyes already wet with desperate want, staring back at yours.

“Do it. Like it’s mating season and you want to claim me before anyone else.” 

A cracked voice whine falls from his lips and he begins to roll his growing bulge against you. You watch as he sucks in breaths between quiet breathy moans. His pink, plump lips pursing and falling open. His eyes try to stay on your face, how close you are to him, but they fall shut sometimes in his basking of rapture. It’s a slutty sight of a faith-sickened boy. 

He loves the little to no proximity that there is. His hands find place on your waist, and he’s aware of how that makes you feel, but he can’t stop it. He wants more and more of you. His hands slide up under your shirt, the feeling on your bare skin in his hands makes his body shudder. Untouched, warm flesh for his large hands to explore and learn every curve of. 

Even you stiffen at his exploration, holding in your breath as if you’ve forgotten how to breathe. Your shirt lifts up more with his hands and the exposure is daunting like you’re revealing your insides. 

The pit of your stomach lights up and you're frozen under his clutch. The pads of his fingers hold you so tight as if he’s scared you’ll disappear. His cock is raging and you can feel every pulse of blood that his heart beat floods to. He’s humping into you desperately, chasing the euphoria that he could never find on his own. Such a delicate, shy boy now driven by lust and longing. 

“You’re pathetic and disgusting. You’re practically fucking me through our clothes,” you murmur while you try to push his hands down off you, but his grip won’t let up. Instead his nails dig further into you, a barely sounding broken noise escapes you from the pain. This makes his body collapse further into you, his head dropping between your shoulder and neck. His movements are sloppy and rushed. 

“N-no, I’m still good. You make me feel good, I am so good,” he whines, tears beginning to fall from his eyes to your shoulder. You try to imagine his holy water is washing you clean but it only singes. 

“Tell me that only I make you feel good, that you’re only good for me.” 

“Only you—can only be you to make me good,” he cries against your warmth, rocking himself into you roughly. His leaking cock begins to twitch against you and his hips won’t quit their stuttered jerks. 

You hum lightly and run a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. He looks up at you with those desperate, wet, dark eyes and you can’t help but acknowledge how pretty he is like this. His puffy cheeks are flushed pink as the tip of his nose. “Only for me,” you mumble.

“Yes, thank you, I am yours. Yes.” His breaths are jagged and heavy. There’s a coiling in his abdomen that feels borderline explosive. You were right, he craves this feeling. It’s surreal to him how he’s gone so long without it. His arms wrap around you completely now, holding you down while his body rolls on top of yours, situated between your legs. His heart hammers against your chest; he wants to mold into you, to become a singular rot. 

You squeak a gasp, being caged down by him. Your heart beats with the same veracity. One of your arms wraps around his waist to hold his back while the other holds the back of his head that hasn’t left the safety of your neck. He continuously sobs through meek moans. His hair tickles your skin like sparks while his lips brush over your jaw and neck making the tingle feel like crackling flames. 

Under his weight you feel yourself slipping in both confidence and dominance, your body wanting to sink down in submission from the unknown comfort of his control. Your heart aches and you feel something you’ve never felt before. You think you’re scared of it, yet your body pulls him closer. Hand in his hair, tugging with fearful aggression. Nails piercing the skin of his shoulder blade. You’re pliant under his heavy thrusts and sounds of sin. 

The rain pours harder outside with whips of harsh winds smacking the window. It’s almost like God’s wrath is screaming to be seen, to shout that He is watching. 

Sunghoon’s hard cock is relentless against your core. The rough grind of him is stimulating in ways   you’ve never felt before, your body sensitive and starving for more. You squeeze your eyes shut and moan within your closed mouth, hating yourself for feeling this way because it was never supposed to be about you. You are betraying yourself more than your fathers.

The sounds you try to withhold make Sunghoon weaker. He feels uncontrollable, only becoming needier and hungrier with his movements, “I can’t stop. I can’t stop.” He whines, begging for you to vocalize how you feel it too. 

You feel like you’re breaking underneath him, and it feels shameful. Like every harsh word your father ever spat at you was true now that you’re a part of the experience and not just the cause. Everything is too much. It takes every ounce of strength you have to turn both of your bodies over. Now sitting up on top of his lap, you can finally breathe again, sighing in relief. He whimpers at the distance between you both but also from the view of you. 

He moans your name softly as he grips your hips, pushing himself up into your clothed pussy like he’s fucking you. Your hands push down on his shoulders. You stare into his eyes with a plain expression and contrasting sharp eyes, grinding your hips back down on top of him. It’s hard to ignore the way it makes you feel, watching him fall apart beneath you as his pulsing cock fucks against you, but you manage. 

“Cum for me,” you demand quietly, “make a mess and imagine it’s inside me.” 

“Holy fu—ngh,” his entire body spasms and shudders with a low groan falling from his open lips. His movements slow down only to become lazier and uncoordinated. You can feel the warm wetness he spills soak through your thin pajama shorts and underwear. 

“You’re right. You are good for me,” you coo softly, cupping his face and using your thumbs to wipe away the tears. Your hips circle and swivel slowly on him until his quivering cock finishes cumming. 

Sunghoon has a sparkle to his wet eyes. The way the gentle praise left your lips makes him melt, and he can’t stop the flickering glance between your eyes and lips. He breathes heavily through his post clarity. Still he basks in your touch with a hopeful look in his eyes. His tongue slides over his lips before he’s leaning up towards your face, hands affixed to your waist to pull you closer to him. 

This makes a wave of panic wash over you, knowing what he wants to do. You shake your head no and pull yourself away, slipping off of his lap only to turn away from him. 

“None of that. It’s not what-” 

And then there’s a press of lips to your cheek. Your face burns as if a hot coal was what kissed your face. Your eyes go wide, turning to see the boy sitting up next to you. He only wears a shy smile as he sees your reaction.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a week now,” he admits with a small laugh. “Not exactly there but that’s fine. I wish you would let me help you feel good too.” he whispers, looking back to the windowsill where the gifted flowers stood in their vase with the raging storm as their backdrop. 

“That’s dumb and I don’t need to,” you reply, still watching him stare forward. Your chest feels painful; it’s an ache like shattered glass trying to piece together in the wrong ways. Stabbing but trying.

“I think you deserve to,” he argues. “But I understand if it’s not what you want. I was really touchy and I shouldn’t have been because you don’t seem like it. I was too caught up in the moment.” His mind goes to the mess he’s still sitting in and he feels self-conscious all over again. “Is it embarrassing how much I need you?”

You blink at him, swallowing the words that were never going to come out because you didn’t even know what they should or would be. So you settle with a simple, “No.”

You think it would kill you to admit how much you actually always wished to be wanted, needed, or loved. A bigger part of you didn’t think you were worthy of it, let alone capable. The world had such a way of saying otherwise. Until it brought Sunghoon to you; the boy who showed you feelings and experiences you never thought possible. 

As if he could read your mind, he asks, “Why did you choose me out of everyone?” He falls back onto the bed, laying down and pulling the blanket over himself. 

“I think you reminded me of a lamb.” 

“Pardon?” His brows furrow. 

You lay back down next to him, facing him like he is to you. “Pretty, white, and docile. You were so nervous when I first saw you—sometimes you still are.” You even laugh a little. “When you shook my hand I knew I could do anything to you because you’d let me.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” He smiles wide, scooting closer to you. 

You scoff with an eye roll, leaning further away from him. “Oh shut up, you’ve seen a mirror.” 

And then it’s his turn to laugh a little. He looks at you like you’re the reason the sun rises and falls. It kind of hurts you to see him like this because it reminds you of your initial rotten intentions and how they’re dissipating the more you’re with him. 

Time passes faster than the two of you realize. There’s light banter and easy conversations. You learn more about Sunghoon. Where he goes to school, what he studies, and who his friends are. He tells you of the sports he used to do and what he does in free time with his best friend. The more you learn about him, the more you understand his naivety and how despite what you’ve done, he won’t change. There’s something lovely about it. 

You don’t have much to share about your life the way he does, at least not in the same light. But you show him your favorite books, drawings you made over the years, and share the stories of movies you found interesting. He savors the moment of you simply confiding, enjoying the more he can know about you. 

The storm passes later in the evening. So caught up in borrowing time, the rain has slowed down to a simple pitter patter. The clouds dispersed and the setting sun only came through to say goodbye to the day. 

The sound of the truck that the farmhands use to take back to town is heard roaring to life, signalling you and Sunghoon that it’s safe and time to head out. 

Sunghoon jumps out of bed but by the time he’s shoving himself into his still damp jeans and looking out the window, the truck is already speeding down the dirt, now mud riddled road. 

“They just left without me,” he breathes out. “I’m used to them leaving me out, but t-this is.. How am I going to get home?” He looks back to you with sad eyes, not the light they had earlier. He’s not shocked by their actions, but he is disappointed. A hand runs through his hair in his stress. 

“Should I kill them?” Your question is brazen, body and voice eerily still in your seriousness. 

“W-what?!” he whispers in shock, freezing for a moment. 

“I’m joking.” You sit up and watch Sunghoon resume getting dressed. “I think you should head back to the lodge for the night. There’s a washer and dryer for your clothes. And spare food for dinner too.” 

Sunghoon nods slightly, “your jokes are weird, but okay.” He looks like he’s thinking of something, taking his bottom lip between his teeth in thought before speaking again. “Can you stay with me for the night at least?” he asks shyly. 

“No,” comes out quicker than you intended. “...But I guess I can walk with you there.” 

He nods again but now with his signature small dimpled smile. You almost forgot about being angry at the other farmhands for taking it away. 

You have to make sure the coast is clear before leaving the house. You tiptoe down the halls and stairs, weary of where your mother is inside the house. To your luck, she’s in her usual state. She’s passed out on the couch with two empty bottles of wine on the floor. The television volume is low, playing a rerun of the reverend’s sermon; the devil himself of your childhood, preaching about how he lost his child to the otherside. 

With a finger to your lips, you silently signal for Sunghoon to be quiet and to follow you out. 

Once safely out of the front door, you take his hand in yours and start running for the lodge. The tall boy is behind you, so you don’t get to see the bright smile on his lips or in his eyes as you run through the light run towards the lodge. 

Now standing in the front doorway of the farmer’s lodge, wet from the sky all over again and still hand in hand, Sunghoon bravely speaks up.

“I don’t like it when you disappear on me,” he breathes out shakily, honestly. “Nobody else sees me like you do,” he squeezes your hand tighter in his, feeling you begin to pull away. “Come with me into the city tomorrow. We can- I’m not sure yet, but I’m sure I want more time with you.” 

His eye contact is unwavering, begging. Both of his strong hands hold onto yours. You glance from your hand then back to his pleading expression. He will always remain so sweet, no matter what you do to him. 

“I felt less lonely before I met you,” you confess, eyes unblinking as you stare up at him for a long pause. “I’ll meet you here in the morning.” 

In only seconds, he’s pulling you into a hug. His arms wrap around you so tightly as he holds you to his chest. You go stiff in his arms, forgetting how to breathe for a moment. What feels suffocating at first turns into a warmth you’ve become all too familiar with, and it was never anger. The indignation you always wear is just a hand me down from your parents; it doesn’t fit you right even though it’s comfortable. 

With a shaky exhale, you wrap your arms around him too. The hug surrounds you like a blanket of unknown comfort. Your ear pressed to his chest listens to the sound of his racing heart. You can feel the pound throughout his entire body too. Every emotion held within is trying and fighting to be seen. It’s still so cold from the rain but he feels contrast, only warm. His lips press a kiss to the top of your head, making your body burn even more and your hold all the tighter. 

　True to your word, you meet Sunghoon at the farmer’s lodge the next morning. He seems happier than usual. Very giddy to be spending a weekend day with you without work in the way. No distractions or excuses to leave. Just the two of you and a new day with zero obligations.

Because you had a spare bike, you both are able to peddle towards town to the bus stop together. Having made these frequent trips alone, you’re familiar with the owner of the gas station at the stop. He’s a deaf older man, and it surprises Sunghoon that you know how to sign and ask him to hold onto the bikes until you’re back. You tell Sunghoon that you learned some basics from reading a book you bought a long time ago. 

Stunned, Sunghoon realizes that you went out of your way to do so for one man who watches your bike while you endure solo trips. You, the odd girl who was mean and sinful, used your money and learned a language for one man who did a simple favor. He’s learning more to admire you for by the day, and it’s crazy to him how you don’t see your own charm. 

Sunghoon pays your bus fares even though you insisted on being capable of doing so yourself. Sat in the middle of the bus that’s only barely half filled, he asks if there’s anything you’d like to do for the day while in the city. Nobody has ever asked you such an effortless thing, and you like it more than you imagined. Just uncomplicated curiosity of your wishes. 

“The book store. The small yellow one on main street. Maybe see a movie if anything is worth seeing.” You shrug, spewing out the usual things you do. Looking around the taken bus seats, you notice some familiar faces. 

“That sounds nice,” he smiles, “our first real date! I think there’s a cafe near that book store too. Do you like coffee?” 

Your cheeks burn as you stare at him in bewilderment, “you think we’re going on a date?!” 

“Of course we are,” he laughs like it’s obvious and wraps an arm around your shoulder, looking out of the window. All that the town can offer him other than you passes by. “I’m a fan of americanos. You seem like you’d take your coffee black.” 

“I don’t even like coffee,” you mumble, turning your attention out of the window as well. “Tea is nice though.” You add in, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Hm. I can see that too,” he hums as he pulls you closer into his side. 

So much can change in such little time. You’ve experienced this many times in one life. How one day can open a new door to a path otherwise not taken. Showing Sunghoon more of you has made him bloom into a larger ray of light. He seems more comfortable, and now you’ve become the awkward one. 

The ride to the city doesn’t normally take this long, or at least you don’t think it does. Every second with him by your side makes the experience feel brand new. The theme of time being unreal is common with him, you’ve discovered. It’s when you’re in the bookstore and see a holiday sale that you realize it’s not even June anymore. 

While Sunghoon looks for books for his upcoming college semester, you find yourself in genre sections you never really cared for before. The dark and racy ones were fun to bring home, sure. But innocent, cliche romance was always something cringey to you. Now if you change your perspective to that of research then it’s less daunting, right? Perhaps you’d make sense of all the things you’re discovering about yourself and him. Yeah, that’s convincing enough. 

He teases you at the checkout counter when he sees what you picked out. Your face flushes in embarrassment and you can’t even bite back at him or defend your choices. So you smack him with the book on the way out while he laughs and makes jokes that aren’t very funny. 

The two of you do manage to catch a movie. You honestly didn’t care to see one, but having to sit silently in a theater for at least an hour and half seemed like enough time for him to, hopefully, forget and drop the whole book situation. It’s a summer slasher film. A group of teens go camping and the plot is very ‘who done it’ style. Overall, it’s a fun choice. You have your turn to laugh and joke when Sunghoon gets jumpy or scared. 

After the movie, you both end up at the cafe Sunghoon mentioned while on the bus. There was something painfully intimate about everything today. But especially sitting down to eat with him. Not even your mother could meet you at the table anymore. 

“You seem softer today,” Sunghoon states, setting his half-drunk coffee down. “Almost nervous. Is it because we’re out together for our first date? Or just the people in general?” 

You raise a brow at his brazen curiosity and observation. “Maybe you’re rubbing off on me,” you play with your fork to move around the barely touched food in front of you. “Or maybe it’s a bit of both.” 

“If you come to the city enough to know sign language for the man who watches your bike, do you like it better than the countryside?” 

“Don’t know. I’m used to the quiet life, but leaving it behind and pretending it’s not there is nice too.” 

“What keeps you there?” 

“The scenery. The air. The lake. Being friends with the animals.” You look up from the plate to Sunghoon who is watching you like a lecture: attentive and learning. “I’m not very good with people, so I think it suits me alright.” 

“You’re good with me though,” he argues softly.

“No, not really. I wish I was more like everyone else,” you inhale deeply as your eyes wander around the bustling cafe. There’s a choir of laughter, conversations, and social dynamics you would have to study to master. “If I were a good person, everything would be easier.” 

“...but I like you as you are,” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear, watching you shift in your seat. He doesn’t think you’re not a good person, and it hurts that you see yourself as such. 

As Sunghoon speaks, there’s a chime that follows as the front door of the cafe is swung open. A disheveled man stumbles inside, heavy feet stomping the tile floor to attempt to stabilize his disorientation. The man burps obnoxiously loud, and many eyes find him with the grand entrance. 

He scratches at his lengthy, unkept beard as he looks around. When his sunken eyes find you sitting at the table nearby his eyes grow wide and his mouth falls open. His hand shakes with a pointed finger in your direction, “y-you! The girl from the reverend’s sermon!” He’s loud, capturing the attention of everyone now. His sloppy movements make way towards you and Sunghoon; you feel everything within you freeze, and your heart knocks at your chest fast and hard with anxiety.  

He slams his hands on the table, causing your plates and drinks to rattle. He reeks badly of alcohol and his crazed eyes never leave yours. You swallow thickly, fight or flight mode still trying to understand the situation before you. Meanwhile Sunghoon, worried and confused, slowly begins to stand up and grab your bags. 

But you, you’re frozen staring at the messy man who talks of your greatest hate. Your hands tremble on the table. 

“I thought the reverend made you up for stories, but my God! You’re the real living thing just like the pictures; his only sin,” he laughs boisterously in your face and you try not to gag. “I saw him a little whiles earlier, ya know,” his voice goes quieter, it’s taunting even. You wish to remain calm but your eyes tremble and a frown takes your face. “I should go find him and tell him you’re here. He really-”

Sunghoon takes your hand, practically dragging you away from the table. You almost fall from your seat, like a baby deer just learning to walk, there’s little strength to your legs. 

“It’s not too late! You can be on the right side of things!” his voice ricochets off the walls of the now quiet cafe. “If I can be saved by his preaching, so can you! Look at me!” His mad laughter follows you and Sunghoon outside. 

Sunghoon watches you stand on uneasy feet, zoned out staring at the sidewalk. It didn’t take much to put the pieces together that the drunken man was talking about your father. Your father being a reverend who’s not in the picture gave him much to wonder about, but now isn’t the time. He just wanted to get you somewhere away from this memory. 

He crouches down in front of you. You slowly blink back to reality, now looking down at his back. You don’t want to speak so you poke his shoulder in questioning.

“Hop on. Let’s go somewhere else.”

“What if I’m heavy?” you look at the bags he’s already holding, feeling that you too are a burdened weight he doesn’t need to hold. 

“I’ve got good muscles, remember? Good for farm work,” he’s patient and calm with you while his eyes watch the man from outside the glass cafe windows. “Come on, baby.”

Without thinking, you end up on his back. He carries you on his back, strong arms holding your legs while yours are loosely around his neck. Your insides are a flared up hurricane but at least that allows your body to forget the empty ache you left at the cafe. With your chin hooked over his shoulder, you watch the many people and downtown stores that pass by.

Sunghoon doesn’t exactly know where he’s walking, but thinks it’s best to end the day here and return you to the bus stop. He’s never seen that look on your face before—the one you had when the man was loud in your face. He didn’t like it, and he’s sure you hated it. You looked intimidated, or afraid. 

“Would you kill him for me?” you watch the side of his face, “the reverend, I mean.” 

He stops in his tracks and turns his head to look back at you, “w-what? I can’t kill someone… and you should joke like that.” he panics, looking around to see if someone was listening to the wild conversation and request.

“Yeah, I know. I’m fucking with you,” you look away to hide your smirk, “and only half joking.”

“Did you believe him before?” He starts walking again, but this time at a slower pace knowing the bus stop isn’t too far now. 

“Who? My dad or Our Father?” There’s a use of air quotes at the end of your question. 

“Both?” his head tilts. 

“Neither,” you confirm. There’s a pause for thought and Sunghoon waits for you to further explain. “My relationship with both is too similar. They’ve both known me my whole life, right? Seen all of my wrong doings and in return shown wrath through unnecessary punishments called forgiveness. In what good world is tolerance violent?”

“What do you mean? What did he do?”

“Sometimes, after my mother set the table for dinner, he would knock my plate to the floor. Tell me to eat off the ground like the animal I was or starve.” Sunghoon frowns at this, coming to a slow stop when he sees the bus shelter bench. “Sometimes I had days and nights locked in the barns, but he switched it up to the basement when I was too close with the animals.” You laugh a little, but he senses the pain behind it. “I watched him kill the animals, too, only to smother me in their blood. Beatings were rare, but I think only because he despised the thought of even touching me.”

Sunghoon slowly sets you down to the ground and breathes out your name safely, taking your hands into his. He looks at you with sorrow, like he was the one who endured it with you. 

“God’s orders, am I right? My father, the church goers, speak of God like they’ve seen his face and heard his voice, but they haven’t. I would’ve by now too.” 

If He was really in everything, all around, why did He always turn a blind eye? Why does He pretend to not know you? It only made it harder to believe in—something that would bring you here, torture you then watch you suffer for not living how it pleases. God wants to be believed in, but so do you. Only you would never beg for compassion. 

Sunghoon squeezes your hands in his, “I don’t think you should stay there. You never deserved that… even if you’re volatile and strange… because you’re also kind and caring. It’s why I like you. It’s their fault for not seeing that,” he reassures. “I haven’t been through what you have, and I can’t understand. I-I mean I can try to, ya know… it’s not like I’d leave if I didn’t.” His words begin to stumble nervously, not confident in its sympathy reaching you where needed.

You laugh nervously, trying to tug your hands away from his grip that doesn’t let up. “Okay sure whatever, this is really embarrassing now…” You swallow hard and find difficulty in meeting his eyes. 

That’s all that matters, what he said to you, but you didn’t have it in you to say it. He already knows it though, smiling small and holding your hands still. Without words or excessive displays he can still see it in your eyes, the subtle comfort of acceptance. 

He could never blame you for your nature. He sees your anger as you just trying to be strong all while being sad. Whether you are his lover or executioner, he would accept you as you are every time with open arms, receiving hands. Even more readily, now.

　Even more time has passed since knowing Sunghoon. Summer has never flown by so fast. The calendar doesn’t exist to you anymore. It’s only the days you see him and the days that you don’t. The season will be wrapping up in the next few weeks, but only for him. He has to return to his regular scheduled routine of pursuing education while you will stay here, on the farm. It’s rare for you to feel this emotion: fear. You are scared of losing him. And the concept is something you do your best to avoid thinking about because it makes your skin itch with anxiety. It crawls over you like something that needs to be cut out. 

And then an idea hits you. Something far more deep-seated than everything else you’ve done with Sunghoon that would solidify that this summer is real and yours. Something that will always stay; a reminder that good things are possible despite how the world has made you. 

It’s a damn near perfect day. The sun is so bright, and only peers down onto you both through the gaps of the trees. It’s just warm enough. Just quiet enough aside from the sound of Sunghoon’s gentle breathing and natural composition of the nature that surrounds. Rustling of leaves, chirps of birds, and scurrying of whatever life that wishes to not be seen. 

You both sit criss cross at the wooden dock by the lake, simply enjoying the scenery and all it has to offer. His large knee is affixed to yours. If this was early June, you would have moved away. But now it’s a week into August and you wouldn’t have it anywhere else. Just like you always imagined, and secretly wanted, the view is nicer with someone else. 

He didn’t bother asking why you never brought him here before, or why it is that you chose to now. He’s just happy that you decided to at all. 

You slip a hand into your boot and pull out a pocket knife. You flick it open and do a brief inspection of the cleaned blade. The sun glints off the metal as you turn it. 

“Sunghoon, do you trust me?” 

His eyes flicker from your blank face to the blade. He nods slowly with a swallow, “of course.” There’s a subtle apprehension to him. You hand him the small blade and leave your palm facing up, open to him. 

“Cut a diagonal line down my hand,” you point and draw a line down the middle of your palm. 

“Huh, seriously?” he takes the blade confused and concerned with what you’re asking of him. “Why? I can’t hurt you.”

“Do it. Don’t think of it as hurting me, but still do it deep enough to leave a scar.” 

He struggles to understand the situation, but you’re so serious and clearly waiting for him to do as you asked. He exhales deeply, taking your hand in his while the other holds the knife just above the bared skin. Hesitant and slow, the tip of the knife pressed down into your flesh. You wince a little, which makes him pause. You nod, encouraging him to continue and he does despite hating the act. He slices the palm of your hand open just as you wanted. You hate blood, but it’s not so bad when caused by him.

“Shit, it stings,” you swallow through the pain. The feel of open flesh burning and stinging. “Your turn,” you exhale while taking the knife back with your free, unharmed hand. 

“My turn,” he agrees as if all logic has left him and readily displays his palm to you. Deep down, he feels guilty for hurting you, so to make it even he wants to feel the same.

Just as hesitant and careful, you create a matching wound in his hand. A deep enough, bleeding, lesion in his left hand to match  your right one. He cringes at the sight and the pain before looking back to your face. Your expression is so soft yet attentive, almost awestruck. 

“Even when you hurt me you’re gentle,” he remarks, watching you in amazement with a meek smile. 

“I am not gentle. I have sullied you,” you remind him, your eyes attempt to glare but they’re too bright in his. 

“In the softest way, why?” His voice is delicate and still like the lake that sits before you. You blink slowly at him because there are no words to be found. He continues, “I never thought of you as a bad person,” he pauses as you drop the red stained knife, unsure if he should continue at first but does regardless. “And, uhm, I’ve thought a lot about this summer. What I've learned from you. Purity is constructive—like something made to bring shame.” You don’t move, watching him. “I don’t have to be clean to be good…and your hands never made me dirty. Because they never were either.” 

Like an excavator to your tall, strong built walls Sunghoon has knocked your shield down. The facade of your character is breaking down, crumbling into the broken pieces that made it. A single tear escapes your eye and runs down your cheek. It’s rare for you to cry and you’re disgusted with the reality as to why it’s now that you break. Simply falling apart from kind words. 

You try to use everything in you to ignore the heat in your body, to show the anger you think you’re feeling inside. So your eyes remain sharp and strong, boring into his, as they still water. You swallow the dry lump in your throat and without a word, you take his hand into yours to join in a mix of blood. 

At first, you had one goal; one similar to murder. The sparkle he had in his eyes, you wanted to eat—to make them empty—and see the world ugly and godless like you. Yet somehow, somewhere along the way, his eyes shone even brighter. You only wanted to take and take of the innocent boy, but in this moment you realize, maybe I just wanted to give him some of me. 

You wipe the wet drop away from your face with haste, pretending as if it was never there. Whatever blood oath you’re making with Sunghoon allows you to feel something indescribable. You don’t know if it’s deserved, but you smile anyways. Because the indescribable feeling feels like it’s an unknown, unspoken promise. 

He’s seen you smile before with insidious malice, but this time, for the first time, you are really smiling. It’s a raw expression of surfacing emotions, and he returns the emotion like the sun. He thought of you beautiful before but with your brightness finally peering through your clouds, he believes you to be heaven sent. A part of him always wanted to see you cry���usually it was him with tears in his eyes; which is funny, because he wasn’t much of a cryer himself. You just had that way of breaking him down. He knows now he does for you too. And he can tell that you’re probably the type of person who needs to cry the most. 

His hand squeezes yours tighter, a grip so loving, as you bind in one. Neither of your eyes or smiles leave each other until the bleeding stops. 

　A week later, Sunghoon asks you on a date. The summer fair is in town. It’s something like a festival where all the locals from towns around the city come to visit and join in on festivities from carnival games, rides, food, and uncommon entertainments. You think of being mean, denying him the acceptance of the date, but you have always wanted to go. So you said yes without your words: took his scarred hand in yours and nodded. 

The evening sky is a watercolor of warm tones as the sun begins to lay down for the night. The bright lights of the fair illuminate the large open field turned carnival. There’s a sea of people here tonight, and although it makes you nervous inside, having Sunghoon by your side makes the ordeal easier to handle. 

The line for the ticket booth is lengthy but it passes by. You approach the booth, standing a little behind Sunghoon who takes out his wallet to buy your entrance wristband passes and tickets. You look around at the many people: families, friends, and couples, all immersed in their own experience as the music and sounds blend in the background of conversations. 

“Oh wow! You’re really handsome,” the girl at the ticket booth gawks at Sunghoon. She straightens her posture and fixes her hair from her face, “one ticke-?”

Catching this, you step forward and snatch Sunghoon’s wallet from his hands, “he already knows that. Do your job or I’ll feed you to pigs.” You slap the cash amount for what you need down onto the table top with a straight face and mean eyes. 

Her eyes go wide and she hushes an apology, quickly giving you both wristbands and tickets for the evening. She even threw in extra tickets as you stared her down. 

Sunghoon watches you with a flushed face, even the tips of his ears burn red at your jealous threat. You both walk off into the fair, a sheepish smile on his face as he leads you through the crowd with an arm wrapped around your back and hand to your waist. 

“Was that one of your jokes too?” he grins down at you.

“Nope,” you glance at him with a small smile. You weren’t sure what came over you in the moment, but it was something internally deep, and territorial. An innate reaction to someone trying to appeal to something that belongs to you. It felt ugly and you didn’t like it. 

The idea that he could possibly be taken from you was a phenomenon you’ve thought of for a while now. Knowing he has an existing life outside you, outside of this summer, that he would return you made you sick. You’re far from perfect, or the right thing for him, and he could find a safer option if he ever pleased. Pushing the thoughts away is harder than you imagine, so you cling to his side even more. 

You and Sunghoon use up your spare tickets for carnival games. You toss rings around bottles, shoot water guns into the mouth of a clown frame, and throw darts at balloons. The both of you aren’t very skilled at any of the games, but it's fun enough to enjoy the time without winning a prize to show for it. 

Eventually, Sunghoon does find frustration within the ‘rigged’ set up of the games. He even pulls out his wallet for cash when the tickets are gone. You’re surprised at how competitive he is; his determined nature is something that stirs your insides around. You don’t know if you’ve ever smiled so much in your life. 

After 3 rounds of throwing a ball to knock over a moving target, he does manage to win. Going 3 for 3 and not missing a single shot. The excitement you feel when he succeeds takes over and you’re proud, doing little jumps in place and clapping your hands together. 

“You did it! You won!” you exclaim, hugging onto his side. 

He can only smile down at your joyfulness. A fire burns in his heart and he hugs you back, kissing your forehead. “All for you. Which prize do you want?” 

“It’s yours, you should pick it,” you blush, elbowing his side with a shy smile while your eyes keep looking up to the stuffed white lamb with a lace ribbon around its neck and a cushion gold bell adoring the throat. 

Of course, that’s the prize he ends up choosing. It might not be Saint Michael the stuffed bear, but it’s something far happier, cleaner, and softer. 

The stuffed animal never leaves your hold throughout the rest of the evening. It rides the many rides you and Sunghoon do. And sits at the picnic table with you both as you share fair snacks. Popcorn and cotton candy was never so sweet for either of you. Like contentment melting on your tongues. 

Cliche as ever, Sunghoon wants to end the night there with a round on the ferris wheel. The line moves quickly and when it’s your turn to step into the carriage, he takes your hand and sits you down the seat next to him. 

It moves slowly and rocks back and forth with shaky movements that have you gripping the side handles. With an arm around your shoulder, he holds you close to him. The array of flickering colorful lights and people below you feels almost magical. 

Taking your eyes from the heightened difference between you and the ground, you look back to the boy beside you who is already looking at you. The reflection of rainbow luminescence glistens in his eyes. It’s even prettier than the view from the top of the little world you’re in. You give him a shy smile, finding it impossible to look away. 

He says your name in a whisper, taking your chin between your fingers. “Thank you for choosing to let me in.” 

Confused and wide eyed, you watch him lean into your face. You gasp when his lips meet yours before returning the notion. With eyes closed, you melt into his kiss. It’s sweet as all the things you’ve experienced today because of him. 

It’s also as clumsy and messy as a kiss can be for two people who’ve never done so before. However, human nature and desire take over and ease the rest for you both. Lips move over another in a gentle waltz, careful and slow. 

And as if the situation couldn’t get anymore cliche, fireworks light up the sky. At first you thought it was just your imagination and all the books you’ve read flooding your consciousness, but the booming sounds and cheers of the crowd are too loud to not be real. 

You pull away from him first, and he’s already wearing a shit eating grin so wide that you can’t help but roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile back at him. Your face burns in both embarrassment and adrenaline from the kiss. 

After that, you don’t leave the city like you should. The bus takes you both back downtown but neither you or Sunghoon feel it’s time for goodbye. So, for the first time, he takes you back to his apartment. You’ve never been to anybody else's home before, and it’s nerve wracking to say the least. The complex is large and somewhat modern, housing many of the second and third year private college students.

When you step inside, it’s quite plain but at least clean. You’re immediately greeted by a boy shorter than Sunghoon. He has a big mouth smile and shining dark eyes. His hair is shaggy but it suits him. He’s practically bouncing on his toes. You shift yourself behind Sunghoon and hold onto his shirt, hiding slightly from the excited puppy-like roommate. 

“How did it go? Oh, and nice to finally meet you,” he rambles out quickly, “I’m Jake. The best friend and roommate. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He shoots Sunghoon a wink before grinning back at you. He extends a hand for you to shake but you don’t reach out. Something about his eyes doesn’t sit right with you. 

“She’s shy,” Sunghoon laughs a little as he guides you past Jake and towards his room. “It was fun though. I recommend going before it’s gone.”

“Ah, you got yourself a nice little angel, huh?” Jake leans over the kitchen island, watching you both. His smile falters. “I’ll have one of my own some day.” For some reason, you think of him as a secret pervert.

Sunghoon laughs his comment off and tells Jake goodnight before showing you to his room. His room is neat and as simple as a college boy’s room can be. A bed, desk, dresser, closet, and bathroom. One poster of a musician you’ve never listened to and a window with unopened blinds. 

You sit yourself at the end of his bed and he sits down next to you. There’s some awkward silence as you look around, unsure of what you’re supposed to do. He feels similarly to your internal dilemma. 

“I-I’ve never had-”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. Of course he’s never had a girl over. And of course you’ve never been over to a boys house. 

“Are you tired?” he asks, and you lie by nodding your head. So you both get ready for bed. He gives you a shirt to borrow for bed that change into in his bathroom while he changes into sweats and a t-shirt in his room. 

In minutes you’re both laying in his bed under the covers and staring up at his ceiling in the dark room. Not a word is said as you both lay there wide awake and untouching. But you know he’s wanting to by the way his body is shifting and turning, inching closer with every minute movement. 

And before you know it, although expected, his body is nestled closely to yours. His arms wrap around you, pulling you into an embrace. For the most part, he usually does keep his space. Knowing how you are when it comes to physical touch that feels too sudden or invading. But with barriers breaking down more over time, he thinks you’re learning to handle the comfort better. 

“I thought you were tired?” he mumbles, head on your shoulder. His hands trace up and down your arms that are wrapped around yourself like a guard. 

“I lied,” you whisper. Your eyes can’t look at him yet, so they remain aimless to the ceiling. Some moonlight slips through his cracked window blinds, giving you enough view of the spinning ceiling fan. 

“I had fun today. Mostly because you did. I like seeing you happy,” he smiles after kissing your shoulder that’s exposed in the neckline of his shirt too big for you. “And… I liked when you kissed me back,” his voice is quiet and shy-like. 

“Do you want to do it again?” Your eyes shift to him and you can barely see the warm flush to his cheeks. He’s cute. 

Taken aback at first, he just blinks at you with a parted mouth. Then he nods his head slowly, licking over his lips. 

You turn over onto your side to face him and his hands don’t leave your waist. Unsure of what to do with your own, you wrap them around his neck. Good thing they sit behind him and it’s dark in the room because it would kill you for him to notice the slight tremor in your fingers. 

With a scarily racing heart and stiff, trembling body you surge forward to kiss him. His lips are quick to capture yours. Soft and pillow-like, they mold into yours in waves. What starts off as clumsy and unskilled turns into hunger. Something desperate and needy. His grip feels bruising to your hips but in a nice way. In a way you want it to hurt more. 

His nails digging further into your flesh to keep you impossibly close make your lips gasp, or maybe it’s the lack of air, or just both. And instinctively his tongue is licking its way past your lips and into your mouth. He kisses you like he’s starved for it. His wet tongue drags over yours, and your teeth, then as far as it can inside of you. He whimpers, pressing his already hard cock to you as he licks and kisses you open. 

Your stomach has never burned this way before, and you feel the hot sensation all over then down to your core that aches like it’s hungry too. You feel disgusted by yourself but can’t fight the hum you make as you devour him right back. You’re getting wetter every second he’s in your mouth. 

This time, he pulls away first. Panting for air and staring at you with glazed over dark eyes. He licks over his wet lips again, savoring the taste of you on himself. He bites down onto it and a part of you wishes it was you he sunk his teeth in. 

“Can I do what I did last time?” he breathes out, his hips involuntarily jerking up against you at the thought alone. 

While trying to act like you’re not catching your breath too, you say quietly, “do whatever you want.” 

He kisses you again but with more desperation. You try to do the same but you can feel your heart and your head preparing for battle. The way he’s feeling you up and grinding himself on you is in no way unwanted, and that’s part of the reason you’re struggling to maintain presence. 

It’s so much happening so quickly, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t imagine this happening eventually. Sex was inevitable. The way his body yearns to be one with yours makes you feel special almost. He’s already engraved into you but in his mind he has to be inside of you and it hurts so badly how you think the same. 

But is the last thing that keeps him pure really yours to take? You’ve stripped so much away from him for all the wrong reasons before and now it feels strange. You are no good and that’s all he is. 

The only thing keeping you here, in the moment, is him. His exploratory and gentle yet rough hands, his body grinding into you, his lips that can’t leave yours or your skin for even a second, and the weak wanting sounds that leave them. 

“I need more, please. I want- I need to feel good with you. Please,” he’s whining into your ear. Then pressing kisses along your jaw and neck that are all so tender, slow, and deliberate. Large hands caress you like you’re breakable, as if not already just a body of fragmented pieces made whole and called a person. 

Your still shaking hand reaches down between your two bodies and slips past his sweats. He had the nerve to go commando and you wish you could tease him, but you can’t. You’re lucky you’re even here right now and breathing his air. Your hand wraps around his aching length and gives him a few tugs to which he’s quick to moan. He kicks off his sweatpants while you bring him closer to you. The plush of your thighs trap him; he whimpers against the soft heat of your flesh. 

Your hips grind up into him once, showing him what he should do too. He’s slow to start, rocking himself between your thighs. Slutty and hopeless sounds leave him in a string of his want. His leaking hard cock is so close to your core. Only the thin layer of your underwear keeps him from feeling your clear need for him too. 

Wrapped in each other's arms, you bury your head to his shoulder. You can feel the pulse of his aching desire rubbing and grinding against you. It makes you shiver in sensitivity and cower further into his neck. You don’t bite down onto your lip, but his neck. There’s a sting to your eyes because you hate it—the wet warmth that pools out of you. Your sin sticks to your underwear and your skin like the red raining life of all the animals you made leave the earth; your haunting subconscious correlates with your growing pleasure. 

You know you’re not religious yet every time Sunghoon touches you there’s a divinity to it and it makes your hands want to join in prayer to thank the universe for sending someone like him to you. Because his hands roam your body as if they have in every world; as if there is not one timeline where you have not been made for him. Like you were carved from his rib every time. 

Your body smolders in that angry way it always did whenever Sunghoon got too close to you. Whenever his words were too kind, his touch too gentle, or god forbid when he just smiled at you. That fire is just the divine nature of your relationship, lighting up everywhere he touches and leaving flames in the wake. You thought it was your body rejecting his purity, but you were only denying the likeness. He made you feel good. And in the most ironic way possible. You just didn’t think you deserved it. 

Yet an anguished moan leaves you, rumbling against his skin as you bite down harder. Regardless of it all, he is yours right now. 

The feeling of your sinking teeth in him, the sounds you’re now making, and the damp heat between your legs he can’t stop chasing all makes his head spin. He bites down onto you just the same and it only makes you moan louder. 

“Please,” he’s whining again through the bite. His voice a needy tremble while his hips stutter and thrust between your legs that only squeeze tighter together. The way the fat of your legs hug his raging cock through his desperate grinds makes him chase more and more for that feeling he just can’t seem to reach. The crying tip kisses and pushes up then past your leaking folds every time. It drives you both insane. 

If your body is the fiery lake of creation's deepest pit, then he is the cleanest ocean of earth’s highest point. If anyone could extinguish you, and possibly make you feel whole, it was Sunghoon. 

This is the most horrifying reality you’ve come face to face with. Not just intimacy, but a stronger driving emotion. You have to open yourself, rip open your chest and bare your beating heart in all its naked vulnerability. Let it scream out I like being with you. You have allowed this person into your world that nobody else has dared to step foot in. To see you in such ugly ways yet still extend their arms for you. It’s a terrifying level of closeness that you’ve never once experienced and you don’t know what to do with. You’re beyond perplexed by what he’s done to you, in both terror and awe.  

You pull back from Sunghoon and he pauses everything for a moment to look at you, noticing your wet eyes. Before he can ask what’s wrong you reach down and slip off your underwear. You shift your body and maneuver him as best you can until he’s on top of you. Rattled with concealed embarrassment you remove his shirt and toss it somewhere to the floor, and he does the same. 

You take a deep breath and reach back down to his cock, lining it up with your pussy. You blink and swallow away all the things trying to stop you from allowing yourself him. Pliant beneath him, you grab his shoulders and pull him down to you for a quick kiss. Foreheads now pressed together with lips ghosting over the others, you tell him, “I hate you.” 

Sunghoon only smiles down at you before kissing you once more. With his arms caged around you, he slowly pushes himself forward. The fat tip of his cock fails to go through you, only sliding up and past the wet folds. He whines feeling the warm slick coat the head; his entire body shudders. He nearly cums from that alone. 

He looks at you confused, and nod once while trying to shift your hips around for a better angle. It’s not like you to be so quiet during things like this. It only tells him that for once, you’re nervous about new things the way he was. 

So he tries again, this time a little rougher. He thrusts his hips forward, the tip pushing past the tight walls but still barely in. You whimper at the intrusion and the feeling of you being stretched open. Your hands squeeze hold onto his biceps for purchase. 

The tight sensation of your pussy squeezing his tip feels otherworldly to him. He can’t help but need to sink deeper into you. His cock pushes in further at an agonizing pace until he’s as deep as he can possibly go. His arms shake while he tries to maintain his strength and keep himself from collapsing onto you completely. The wet walls that surround him flutter and try to pull him further inside, making him feel lightheaded. His moans are so needy it’s almost like he’s crying from the feeling. 

“Oh, f-fuck!” you whimper. Having Sunghoon completely inside of you feels so full. You’re stuffed with him and it hurts so good. “You gotta move, Hoon. Feels like you’re splitting me open.”

“You're so tight, mm.” His hips stutter from your words alone and he whimpers again. He pulls himself out halfway while your gummy walls kiss around him in an attempt to suck him back to be filled again. He begins to rock himself in and out of you. It’s inexperienced and awkward, but he gets the hang of it quickly. Doing what feels best for him and what seems to be the best for you too. 

“I hate you. I fucking hate you,” you whisper harshly, looking up at him with tear filled eyes. It all burns while feeling like heaven. Never have you been so full, held so gently, or seen than this summer. You bite back the breaking moans and whimpers. You claw at his skin. You even begin to cry when your hips can’t stop chasing his thrusts. 

“I love you too,” he whispers back. A kiss is pressed to your forehead as his cock pistons you. Sunghoon is smart enough to know you’re a liar. Your mean words that used to hurt him, he now understands. You’re not really a bad person. And you don’t hate him. You were just really damaged and if he’s damned for trying to heal that then he’s fine with that too. 

“I mean it,” your body shudders, feeling his tip pound so far and deep in places inside you that you didn’t know reachable. His fat cock drags out and forces through your tight hole, making you cream all over him more and more. The sounds that leave your body, the sounds your bodies are making, it’s so obscene. Fighting off the disgust and focusing on how he makes you feel is war. It’s so hard for you to win. 

“No you don’t,” he shifts himself to sit on his knees, taking your legs and wrapping them around his waist. He leans forward and kisses both of your cheeks before fucking himself into you again, only harder and faster than before. 

“Ngh,” you moan again through broken sobs, blinking away the tears as you stare up at him. “I’m t-trying to.” 

“I know, baby.” he mumbles before capturing your wobbling lips into a searing kiss. “It’s okay, haah, don’t cry. You’re good. You’re so good for me,” he says against your wet lips. You can only sniffle and try to turn your head away from him in your embarrassment. “No, no.” he takes your chin with his thumb and finger, forcing you to look back at him. His thrusts never letting up during his care. “Look at me. You’re so good to me.” He reminds you over and over. “We’re so good together. I’m yours. you’re mine.” 

“Say it again,” you sniffle through little sounds of sin. Your hand finds a place on his cheek, and your thumb rubs over his lips that wear a smile. 

“You’re so good, good for me. We are so good together. I am yours. And you are mine,” he says softly. His eyes are so filled with love, and if you could see your reflection in his then you would know yours are too. “Say you’re good, baby, it’s okay.”

“I’m good,” you sob through your whimpers, “I’m yours.”

To Sunghoon, the idea of sex was always sacred. Something that’s only done and shared between lovers bound by marriage of the church. But now, he thinks differently. He knows that there is no shame in him loving you now or years later. And he was more than happy to make love to you all night until you believed it too. 

　Perhaps there was a thing such as divine intervention and if God’s timing was alway right, he knew how to be evil with it too. Because the next day, when Sunghoon takes you home, he’s met with your maker. 

Your mother, aware of the frequent trips you’ve been making and how close you’ve grown to the summer farmhand boy, is quick to make a call to your father the night you don’t return home. It wasn’t necessarily because she cared for your well being. You’re more than capable of handling yourself. But it was an excuse to try and get him to come back. Only it doesn’t go how she wanted.

When you see the reverend’s car parked in front of your house, your heart drops. Sunghoon picks up on your tension, He sees how you go blank at the sight and slowly turn back into the empty girl he met months ago. He tries to hold your hand but your fingers can’t move, can’t return the embrace. 

When the reverend walks out of the house with his infamous weapon of sacrificial forgiveness, you know what to do. Your body moves on its own, leaving Sunghoon to reach out for you that walks towards the woods. He goes to follow you and the desolate man that stalks behind, but your mother stops him. She’s hysterical as she drags him towards your house saying, “it’s going to be okay.” But she’s crying. 

Once out of their sight, the reverend takes you by the hair. He yanks your head around, pulling you towards that cursed tree. He’s uncharacteristically rough and your scalp screams for a release but you don’t show it. You don’t even look at the man. Not even when he’s tossing your body to the ground. 

“So you’re whoring around with my employees now, huh? Was ruining this farm not enough for you?” His words mean nothing to you. You dust off the dirt and go to stand again, but he kicks you back down. You tsk under your breath as he speaks again, “I’ve seen all the things you’ve done. Seen you leave my barns with red hands and smile. Cut heads off chickens like an anatomy project. Is he next? That church boy?” 

Now you look up to glare at him. Seeing the reverend was aggravating enough, but to say something about Sunghoon was infuriating to you. “I am not a killer. You are! And those animals were already dead.” You spit at his black leather church shoes. 

“Oh, you disgusting little devient,” he laughs lowly, untying the rope from the tree. “Your cruelty shouldn’t bring you joy. Sick and twisted, I should’ve dealt with you sooner regardless of what your drunk bitch mother protested. I can save the boy when you’re gone.” 

“What?” you shuffle backwards from him, angry and confused as he stalks closer to you until you’re backed against the tree. “All those things I did was because of you. Your righteousness made me rotten!” Your hands shake, gripping at the dirt ground for anything to make the fear stop. You glance up to the empty tree branch then the rope in his hands. Where is the lamb? You think briefly before it hits you. “You’re crazy,” you whisper, “I will not be your martyr… not now what I’m finally-”

“Condemn me to Hell for all I care,” he crouches down in front of you, “This is the last time I’ll be a killer.” He throws the rope to your lap and tells you to tether yourself. 

“Why do you hate me?” The words scratch at your throat. When you were younger, you did want the reverend to hate you. It was when he noticed you most, and it’s all you really knew. But now you’re older, and his disdain never made sense. 

You can’t bring yourself to move even if you wanted to. Was this His plan? To allow you one good thing in life before ending it? Was ruining Sunghoon your final sin? 

The rope shakes with your fingers as you stare down at it. The twine of the rope burns over the palm of your hand where Sunghoon carved his promise. Your throat feels dry, tight and suffocating; choking on everything you’ve ever done. And your eyes still puffy from the night before well with tears all over again. 

“I just do,” he thinks of slicing your neck open right there. So fuck tying you down, you were always secretly another lamb anyways. He raises his knife and the metal sits cold under your chin as he lifts your head up to look back at him. 

“Okay…” you swallow. 

Your eyes squeeze shut and so does your mouth, as you raise your head to the sky with an exposed throat. Why isn’t this easy? Unlike the animals, you do know what’s coming. And it’s scary. Scary not because of death, but because you aren’t ready. You haven’t told Sunghoon goodbye or that you love him back. And the thought of him finding something in this world to hate, is such an ugly feeling to die with. 

And then there’s a loud noise. A booming bang, followed by unsteady feet falling back and the ground rumbling with a thud. 

You open your eyes and your father is on his back clutching his abdomen. He coughs and gasps before raising his hand. It’s dripping in deep red. And you can’t help but smile with tears in your eyes as you exhale a jagged breath.

You turn your head and Sunghoon stands there with the shotgun in hand, open mouthed and wide eyed. 

“Sunghoon!” you scramble to your feet and run over to him, taking the gun from his hands as he’s frozen in shock. 

“H-he was going to- he was about to hurt you. I had to-!” he stutters, his eyes already crying and hands shaking, still feeling the weight and recoil of the gun. 

“It’s okay,” you coo softly. “Just- go back to the house and I’ll be right there, okay?” You rush out. Still in shock and dazed, he blindly trusts you and does as you say. 

When he’s no longer close by, you walk over to the reverend with a blank face. You stare down at him as he tries to crawl away, dirty and bleeding. The smile you make doesn’t reach your eyes. 

You point the gun back down at him, and place your foot over the shot wound Sunghoon created. The man gasps and tries to swat at your leg but you only press the gun further into his face, making him surrender. 

“Divine intervention, huh? Say it with me now. I know no punishment, only mercy.” Your voice is quiet, calm, and mocking of his tone. With the barrel to his forehead, you watch him writhe in pain and cough up a little blood. 

“Go to Hell,” he spits his words like venom. 

“If you say it, I’ll let you live. But if you show your face to me or Sunghoon again, I’ll shoot you right between the eyes.” Your foot presses down harder. You can feel that angry little girl inside of you jumping with joy.. Knowing his God demands to be bled for, and making him know the sacrificial suffering, well it feels good to say the least. “Say it. With me. Now.” Each word pronounced with the growing applied pressure to his shot wound. And then he begs for forgiveness. He’s never seen you smile the way you did when he was below you with those words. Empty eyes were never so alive for him either. He cries and chants ‘I know no punishment, only mercy’ over and over. It was like the most beautiful hymn.

　There wasn’t much to be said about that day. Sunghoon and you just pretend you shared a nightmare. Neither of you talked about it. It was just another thing that tied you together. 

Sitting there in the peak of summer’s heat. A day before Sunghoon returns to college classes. Birds chirp. The leaves of the tall trees thistle in the light breezes that pass by. Sunghoon sits criss crossed and while you have your feet hanging off the edge of the dock, kicking in the water. 

“I’m sorry,” you break the silence. Shocked, he looks over to you. He never would have expected you to apologize for anything. “I was selfish when I approached you. I wanted to take all that goodness out of you and keep it for myself. I thought I wanted to hurt you, but after sharing all this time with you, I realized I was wrong. It’s weird to say it out loud,” you laugh small, awkward, “but I really am sorry. I love you more than even I know.” You stare down to your feet in the water that has gone still. A tear falls from your eye, and down to your cheek. 

“I know. I love you too,” he wraps an arm around your waist. “But now the same sins bind us.” You hiccup silently and turn to look up at him. “Harvest all of my purity, farmer’s daughter.” 

For the first time, you really laugh. It’s bright and loud like the big smile he’s seeing for the first time on his favorite face. It’s morning sunlight that whispers through trees to kiss the forest floor. Birds that sing songs of hope to awake life into a new day. Nostalgic, expansive days of childhood where the concept of time doesn’t exist. To him, you look like the epitome of summer; he doesn’t want this season to end. 

You were never the lamb. Or the wolf. Not an animal at all. Nothing like the ones you grew up with. You were just a girl, scared and alone. But not anymore. Because it’s your last day on this farm, and tomorrow is the first with only Sunghoon. 

“Your humor is poetry.” you continue to laugh until tears prick your eyes all over again. You love it. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be funny.” he looks away shyly, blushing. It only makes your giggle more, but you stop to press a kiss to his cheek. He blushes harder. 

“I’ll keep doing it, harvesting all of your purity, for as long as you’re good.” you say with a smile. 

“Do you promise? I am always good, especially with you, so it could be a long while.” He bumps your shoulder playfully with a laugh. 

You take his scarred hand in yours and you laugh like he did, pure and true, “I do.”

© fangel ┊ do not copy, repost, modify or translate my content ໒꒱ tysm for reading, ⌗unlearn shame ⌇ taglist @tinycatharsis @simjaexy @leehsngs @511rkive @beomluvrr @jjongsaengzz @slvtella @jaerisdiction @kkamismom12 @rayofsunshineeee @nshmrarki @m3wkledreamy @hanjisbeloved @filmnings @stercul1a @hooniesfvngs @moriwori @sleepyhoon

[sunnyknight-original]

What Kind Of Monster Was He?

A @forgettable-au fan (colored) animatic

MINOR BLOOD WARNING!

*Was he the kind to do too much, or not enough?

…OK, SO WHAT HAD HAPPENED WAS-

I had planned to finish this into a full fledged animation, but a lot of the parts I did end up finishing just didnt live up to what I imagined…I waited for more motivation to happen, but it just didnt so HERES THE COLORED ANIMATIC CAUSE IM REALLLY HAPPY WITH WHAT I HAVE and ive sat on posting this for like a 2 weeks 😭 which is an eternity in my time

Im gonna post the unfinished “finished” part on my side account @o-sunny-day though! and probably have people yell at me cause it actually isnt that bad AND IT TOTALLY ISNT I just… art. You get it. ENOUGH YAPPING! ITS TIME TO YAP!

except not yet, MORE BACKGROUND INFO HUCDHUC- but its background info on explaining the lore…

The explaining is much less expansive than in Dear My Dear just because I didnt work on it long enough to think every bit of it through. This is just a clean, nicer looking, and colored version of the very first storyboard.

I usually think about and put more effort into the little stuff while making the FINISHED bits since ive had so much more time to think about that in all the preppin n sketching.

BUT I liked the explaining format I did for Dear My Dear so im sticking with it!

The main idea for this was to do a study of Wingdings’ character from what we’ve been given, mainly focusing in on the expectations he puts on himself because holy shit the lyrics for this works so stupidly well it makes me mad LOOK AT THIS???

its ridiculous. i love it. I didnt know Jack Stauber helped write Forgettable AU???? woww!!! ANYWHO thats the gist of it, not much context is needed past that. Onto the sillies!!!! (per usual excuse the shitty quality of the pngs idk why Tumblr does that-)

Did you know love? Will you rest in peace?

Wingdings and Sans holding hands as kids, before turning to a casket like appearance for adult WD. The flowers hes holding are pretty important too, Marigolds to represent grief, Lilys, new life, and Forget Me Nots for this lovely little line I found when looking up good flowers to use-

“a promise to always remember” ….stop that.

That actually also has a double meaning in this case too. 1, ofc the forgetting of Wingdings. But ALSO Wingdings forgetting something himself. Forgetting who he is. Almost like a Zuko ATLA situation.

Did you have a family?

Who knows where theyre parents are, but this is HAPPY TIME and we’re gonna assume they were so awesome and very kind but had to leave or went to a farm in the sky for whatever reason.

The colors here I had a lot of fun with. Their parents had warm colors but the boys have cold, still with warm accents. Its said they more or less raised each other being very independent as shown in the second part with them running out the door by themselves.

How was the view from the shelf? Did you ever believe in yourself?

Before, we started with the beginnings. The good things, the only thing Wingdings cares to even recall. Now we’re seeing his life really start to turn upside down- making first contact with The Player :D

He’s hesitant to reach out, but is intrigued, before getting a rushing revelation of his reality and how it isnt “real”

Rather than feeling crushing existential dread, he more feels pressured to be BETTER, to figure a solution, to do something. Thats what white represents here

WHAT KIND OF MILK WERE YOU?

We then switch to more examples of how Wingdings is taking this pressure (not well) The soft tones of yellow that were shown before, turn to way brighter, intensifying that feeling that he should be fine, he should be happy, drowning in success of being the Royal Scientist.

But he just desperately wants to just go back to a time of nice coldness.

The warm vs cold tones in this I had so much fun with, coldness is supposed to represent hostility usually, while warm is nice and happy. (same with Black and white. Scary, relieving,) But these points often contradict each other, its hard to tell what you’re feeling vs what you’re supposed to be feeling. Just like Wingdings!

WHAT KIND OF LIFE DID YOU LIVE THROUGH?

The white lab coats, the expectations, theyre on all of them. But Wingdings has essentially become his expectations.

He questions what life he wants to live, one being himself and alone (speaking in wingdings) or not himself and with company (speaking in a “normal” font) Still, he frames it in past tense as he believes theres no going back now, based on what he knows.

“One of the last happy moments they had together” stop that. (i cant find a link to when that was said but I know it was once, about them taking a photo together….)

DID YOUR LIFE RUN RICH WITH CALCIUM?

Calcium….bonesss :3 Hehehehdhehfhehehheheheh still dont know why he has holes in his hands so we’re movin on

DID THEY LAUGH AT YOU OR DID YOU LAUGH AT THEM?

Compared to the childhood Wingdings remembered, heres the sadder, bleaker, more realistic version. He always thought they were laughing at him but… maybe they werent.

DAIRY BELOVED. YOUR DAYS ARE GONE,

It doesnt matter now though. Because in the NOW, Wingdings has become consumed by his expectations of himself, seeing this has the “only option” to do the only thing that he feels will give his life meaning and purpose, establishing connection with THE PLAYER

But the grocery list goes on…

And yet life continues on without him, and his room is transformed into a more livable space now that someone is…living in it. Always hurts so much making the differences between Wingdings and Papyrus’ room. It feels like making something out of the man Wingdings COULD HAVE been. Because honestly thats just what Papyrus is,

Thank you to my bestie @fruitytrip for helping me with all of my art in general but especially the storyboarding on this :3 <3

[critterbitter]

HELLO HI ID LIKE TO ASK WHAT PROGRAM AND BRUSHES YOU USE CUZ IM LITTERALY EXPLODING EVERYTIME I SEE YOUR ART

actually actually... *pulls out whole stack of paper*...I have. a FEW,, a good few,, questions to ask. they are not many I swear 😇

OK SO FIRST OF ALL HOW DO YOU DRAW SO FAST???? everyday I log onto Tumblr I always see something new from you and I get very very happy. But then I start to question my own existence because not even I CAN SPEED RUN ART LIKE THAT. AND SO SPECTACULARLY TOO

Last question! how do you color and make it look so well?? just. How. I need to know. This is a CRY FOR HE-

anyway thank you for being one of my favorite artists that always feed my brain rot, pls keep making amazing art because like a little yamper I will follow behind and stay updated.

(Stands there)

Response and thoughts under cut!

First question! What art program I use!

Mostly procreate, along with a handful of brushes! (Specifically the Jing Set and some custom stuff, which is really just a circle brush with the shape changed to a square.)

Second question! How do i draw so much!

Okay so. I am. Ahhah. Unemployed,,,,? No, I do freelance illustration, but hmm. A studio job would be nice.

i graduated college last year and I’m very used to eight hour art shifts. The body sort of remembers to keep working, even though I no longer have storyboards or visdev homework to do.

Also. The hyperfixation is a deep vast tunnel I STILL have not seen the end of the light to, good golly. (I have dreams now about the kids committing shenanigan crimes. I wake up in cold sweat and write them down in a journal. It’s like being the mouthpiece to an angry god.)

So the overall gist is: I was trained to be a storyboard artist with a visdev background, and I’m using that higher education to draw funny muppets because my brain’s funny.

I also DO have a queue, and I’ve been treating this as a sort of inktober project. I am definitely going to slow down soon though! Maybe. Hopefully. Ah… (sheepishly drops my kofi here)

Third question! How do i color!

I. I, uh. I dont know man the coloring demons have a grip on my soul and i just go along for the ride. But also, if it helps, i prefer to limit my pallets to only a few colors at a time. Lighting is king, so if you can figure out if you want to focus on either on your lights or shadows, you’ll have a much easier time composing. That, and symbolic colors— idk, something hits different about art drenched in gold with a tiny hint of a man staring into the blinding horizon, or a green leafy environment with a single dot of artificial red. I also like using blue and purple for shadows, and I’m a big fan of muting colors with only one or two that pop— one of the reasons why I was so attracted to submas in the first place is because from a design aesthetic, they’re both super funny muppet men AND really cool train guys that have a limited pallet and thematic apparel.

Overall response! THANK YOU SO MUCH. This goes out to a BUNCH of people who sent me inbox queries— sorry for not responding, it’s a tad overwhelming because some of them are story questions even I don’t really know will go yet, and others are words of praise and I’m selfish and like scrolling through the inbox to look at them when I feel down. I am more of an artist who sits in the corner and sprouts like a potato rather then a branching vine who socializes, but I really do see people’s responses and they make me go :)))))

Okay ramble over. Thanks for coming to the soapbox, and good luck on creating!

[jumpingwjoy]

another watercolor painting!! im going through my pokemon sun playthrough as ricky, and this outfit is what i dressed her up in ^_^ i tried to match her band au fashion as much as possible 🫡

i’ve got game screenshots and long ass ramble under the cut 😭

realizing tumblr can let me ramble continuously as much as i want so i could talk about my thoughts and my previous pokemon runs too woaw...maybe i’ll post pics of those playthroughs one day, but probably on my main blog instead 🤔

here's ricky's current team where i’m at and what she looks like in game!! i was sooo peeved that twin tails are locked in post game, even if they don’t even look like ricky’s hairstyle at all, i just think she needs some kind of ponytail…i used to have her with straight bangs to imitate her three bangs style, but it kinda looked ugly af… :V

i’m just before vast poni canyon so gummy will soon be the rail gun beetle that ricky deserves ^_^ i decided on a sweets/dessert nickname theme, tho i did consider a norse mythology theme, but i thought she’d be more cutesy in a pokémon au/world where she is not in life threatening stakes.

i want to write out my reasonings for each pokémon pick too, this team isn’t exactly what i had in mind since it’s limited to the sun pokédex, but i’m pretty fond of them!! mostly, i thought she could have a non-dex rotom (but since it’s like this, her rotom dex is definitely named mike), and i also thought she’d have a porygon - but u can only get it post-game and i’d have to deal with trade evolutions o<-<

i also chose pokémon sun as ricky’s game since i headcanon her to be wasian HAHA specifically japanese and american/german - since hawaii is known for its japanese immigrant population (which is also reflected in the game itself), i liked the idea of her having an actual game background of immigrating from kanto

1. alolan raichu - pikachu is the iconic mascot, just like ricky XD alolan raichu shares her love of sweets, and i think lets her identify with being alolan too

2. vikavolt - he’s a rail gun!! ricky should always have fun with guns. i think ricky has an affinity with machines, and vikavolt has gundam aesthetics hehe. his pre evolutions are cute too, which i think ricky would like. notably he’s another electric type, a remnant from when i used to have ricky as an electric type specific trainer, before i decided to diversify types for eo teams. rotom also would’ve been another electric type…😅

3. metagross - another association with machines—it reminds me of gladsheim as well. i like the juxtaposition of this hulking creature made of metal next to ricky too. showing off her cute and cool sides...

its name is ike as a companion to mike, making them fit into the sweets theme LOL

4. wigglytuff - i headcanon that ricky enjoys singing (and is the lead singer in band au) so i wanted a music related pokémon. maybe in universe, she would stay as a jigglypuff?

5. toucannon - also because of gun. i actually hunted a shiny version, bc it looks like the bi pride flag aghdjshfd. i think ricky can be prone to have a temper, matching toucannon's angry look

6. alolan ninetales - ok so i was conflicted bc i wanted an ice type, as a reference to ricky’s cryo sleep lol, and i was also considering vanillite bc ice cream… but its moveset sucks ass!!! sorry!!!! i do like ninetales as an additional reference to her heritage though…i have vanillite in rosa’s hypothetical team too so it wasn’t really meant for ricky in the first place :P

honorable mentions:

i chose litten as her starter since i think she’s a cat person, and also someone who likes buff people……….

vanillite like i mentioned—harder to catch than i thought cause it needs to be snowing for this guy to show up as an sos helper >:0

alolan exeggutor - long long yggdrasil

this turned out a lot longer than i thought im not used to writing down so much even in tweet threads but it was fun to spill out some of the very specific things i think about in my day to day lol...if you somehow read all of this, thank you for your time wakjhsdg 🙇🏻‍♀️

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

I want to write fanfic so bad but I never wrote one my entire life, since you write so well and i love ur works smm will u give me tips or anything

hello! and im so glad u enjoy my works, it means the world to me🫶🥹

i made some tips about a month ago linked HERE, but i always have more!

1. don’t force yourself into writing something that you’re not motivated to do. i genuinely cannot count the amount of times where someone requested something, but i didn’t really like the idea and yet still forced myself into writing it. the end results would always be terrible because the quality of your work decreases from the quality of your mood.

2. if you have an idea, write or jot it down somewhere, because i assure you, you’ll either forget it or forget most of the details for it. i will never forget the time when i was going to write for an absolute masterpiece of an idea, then my mom called me over for a few minutes, and when i returned to my phone i had completely forgotten the genius idea.

3. it is perfectly okay to be heavily inspired by an idea or do a different version of an idea that you see here. but always always ALWAYS give credit to whoever you are inspired by. this has never happened to me, but i know someone who was heavily inspired by another person’s work, but never gave credit to the og author. they had to take down the work and almost got a lawsuit filed against them.

4. no matter what writing platform you’re on, NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER FORGET TO SAVE YOUR WORK. whether it’s tumblr or wattpad or ao3 or fanfiction.net or quotev or even google docs, always save your work. i will never forget the amount of times on specifically wattpad, tumblr, and google docs where i would be writing something, not save it, and its suddenly gone the next time i open the app.

5. always check to make sure that you’re characters aren’t ooc, and if they are, make sure you have a valid reason for your character acting ooc. if you’re ever unsure, my asks are always open, and you don’t have to be embarrassed to ask me if a character is ooc! it is perfectly okay and normal to not understand a character or their actions.

6. using metaphors or literally language will appeal a lot more to people, especially things to match your specific AU or something that everyone’s seen. “her eyes shone like the sun” or “his smile lightened up your world like the moon and stars on a dark night” being something that everyone has seen will elicit more emotions from your readers.

7. read lots! that way, you’ll know what you like and what you don’t like. usually reading romance will be your best bet if you’re going to write romantic fanfics. not only that, but if you want to know about what other people also like, then conduct polls on tumblr. it’s the little symbol next to the headphones with the two boxes and check in the middle along with three lines. your poll will look like this:

love you, and happy writing!❤️❤️❤️

[prince-liest]

hi princely! i was rereading through your 666 series and i wanted to ask if you have any tips for writing dialogue? its the one part of fiction ive always struggled with, i.e. making conversations flow naturally instead of sounding robotic. imo one of the most memorable aspects of your work is how real your dialogue feels

(also i was skimming your tumblr while writing this, im so sorry about your car that's genuinely insane??? and sorry if this is terrible timing aaa)

Hello! Thank you, but no worries, not terrible timing - I could use a distraction, haha.

When I started writing fanfiction, I actually really struggled with writing dialogue for a really specific reason, which was that I was really used to RP and felt like getting into the head and talking style of more than one character at a time felt like a lot of effort and something that I had to actively swap back and forth between. This is something that got much, much easier over time, and unfortunately the #1 tip I always have is that practice not only makes the quality of your writing better, but it also makes the process of writing much easier as you get used to things.

That said, specifically for natural-sounding dialogue, I tend to pay a lot of attention to how specific characters talk and try to mimic it. This came particularly naturally for me with Hazbin Hotel because the show is full of bombastic characters with really amazing voice actors and very specific styles of talking. When I write a particular character for the first time, I go back and watch various scenes that feature them, both generally and in different emotional states.

With a form of media like Hazbin, where I actually get to hear the characters speak, it honestly helps to just imagine them doing so in my head when I'm writing with whatever accent they have going on, too. Sound it out in your head: does it sound like something someone might naturally say? Why or why not? Adjust accordingly.

So, that's where I start! I diverge from there over time as my own interpretation of a character grows and changes, or I put them in different circumstances for different stories, so on and so forth. But For pretty much every fandom, it's always been very helpful for me to go back to the source material with the explicit goal of paying attention to characters' styles of speech, turns of phrase, and reactions. This is good not just for dialogue, but for characterization, especially for characters that tend to get pigeonholed into a particular archetype (for example, I frequently have to tone down how prim or "old-timey" Alastor sounds in my dialogue because he doesn't actually talk like that in canon despite the vibe of his reputation (and sometimes I don't bother, LOL)).

Last but not least, thank you very much! I'm really happy that you enjoy my dialogue. It's definitely one of my favorite things to write (if you couldn't tell by how many fics I've written that are basically two characters talking for extended periods of time), so it brings me joy to know that I succeed in making it enjoyable for others as well.

[seawing-vibes]

HI THAT WAS ME IM SORRY TUMBLR ATE UR ASK. PERIL IS TRANS I KNOW HER ALSO INTEGRAL TO HER CHARACTER AND IM THE ONLY ONE WHO SEES IT(THATS BASICALLY THE ASK)

HII NO NEED TO BE SORRY TUMBLRS SYSTEM IS ASS!! THANK YOU SM FOR RESENDING THE ASK A <33 OKAY PERIL POST DO-OVER!!

SPECTRUM USED FROM THIS POST!!!!!!!!!

OKAY SO I JUST DECIDED TO FILL THE WHOLE THING OUT! I headcanon Peril as Intersex and nonbinary!! AND SAME FOR ME, they fall fight between “I know them” and “their lore is literally impacted by their transsexualism”!! Peril is a very Nonbinary character to me, the way she was raised to view things as very “black & white” and hosting a sense of little self autonomy— makes them finding a comfortable identity in a very “”in the middle”” gender compelling! Especially within the understanding of how Peril was raised and brought up in someone else’s vision, being able to find self-identity in that nature of breaking down the “black & white” structure that was forced on them through the act of finding identity in neutrality. I find the development of self-love extended through gender expression in that nature something that works well in-unison with Peril’s pre-existing themes! Especially in regards to the layered metaphors of the Necklace. As a nonbinary person myself - I found that to be a pinnacle moment of forced suppression of identity into something more “palatable” to the public perception - in this analysis that being the forcing of femininity onto a gnc aligning identity - speaking to the way many nonbinary identity’s are expected to lean “one direction or the other”. So that moment being involved in Perils story - and her breaking free of it and having a self-realization/control moment - very reflective of nonbinary/gender non conforming experiences !!

With that though - thats just my own interpretation and connection to those aspects of Peril’s characterization! I find her lore and themes within her character to speak to many universal experiences of identity that can be interpreted in a fluid way. Like I personally read it as a very compelling arc about non-conformity and applied my own experiences with gender expression onto it, but other interpretations/analyses are just as strong! Thats why I put this headcanon in the middle, because I find it connects heavily to their lore, but is similarly just an extension of it and not necessarily interwoven in-full. Its a lot of personal interpretation which is why the personable “I know them” also 100% fits my perception of transgenderism onto Peril <33

Also the Intersex headcanon is purely a me thing, I always thought Peril was intersex just like. Factually lmao (one of those “I somehow convinced myself this was canon and was surprised to learn it was not” moments lmao). The reason I included it as well is because within my headcanon I think Peril would similarly absorb her being intersex to a further extension of gender identity! Again, breaking down those “black & white” views that were forced on them through themself - literally! Notably being intersex does not inherently mean gender identity is going to be impacted as well, just for this headcanon I feel Peril’s relationship to their gender identity would be strongly impacted by them being intersex <3 !!

OKAY SORRY THIS GOT LONG BUT THIS WAS FUN TO WRITE! TWICE ! LMAO! I have lots of thoughts on these guys so feel free to ask any questions about the other characters if ya want!!! I have many thoughts lmao…

Also I love analyzing these dragons so if anyone has a different interpretation of the characters & wanna share PLEASE DO!!!! I love hearing other perspectives, especially if they contrast my own interpretations, it’s all so cool!!!! <333

[lunarle-old]

What keeps you motivated to write fan fiction? Also, love your drv3 x pressure fic :3

Just the fact I can, to be honest. Before I started posting to ao3, I had my "Great Big Book of Oneshots", which was a google doc I'd just write write write in until I hit Google Docs' character limit and had to make a new one.

The reason I can keep writing as much as I do is because A), i'm hardly ever affected by writers block. When I am, I just do something else until I can sit down and lock in again xD Forcing myself to write will never be productive. B) it's fun!! It's so much fun!! Why would I want to stop something objectively enjoyable ??

and C) ao3 and Wattpad.

I love writing, and I love fanfiction. I started out on Wattpad and eventually fully migrated over to ao3 because the ads kept pissing me off, but I have read so many amazing stories on both sites. I loved seeing more of my favs, especially in the Situations. and on the rare occasion it's something i relate to and find personal comfort in ?? ohhhh boy. buddy. it's so nice. I wanted to be a part of that ^^

Part of why I only had the confidence to keep posting fanfics is because everyone was SOOO so nice </3 and I've gotten some comments here and there that are kind of rude or :/ (one of which i find absolutely hysterical and i can NOT get over it. commenting that i "don't see kokichi as a character outside of saiouma" is a crazy thing to say on Fever Frost, the saiouma despair disease fic where kokichi has the attachment disease LMFAOOOO. I should write another despair disease fic) But really I think I was expecting....way less. as of right now my Tumblr has like 150+ followers iirc which . like...woah......... when did that happen. Last time i checked my followers was to giggle at it being 53 and then BOOM. insane behavior. what the hell was the original ask

Oh yeah motivation . Having such good reception to my fics has definitely helped in the whole self-confidence department, and it has helped me a LOT in terms of my anxiety. Whether Im posting my fics or not, I am always writing fanfiction, no matter if its in my Oneshot Volumes or for ao3 (´▽｀*)

Nowadays I just really really like ao3 for its archival use. I reread my own fics a lot because there's no other extensive Shuichi whump fics :( and ao3 has made that a lot easier. The more comfortable I get on ao3 the more insane I'll probably become, so if you see something called The Lyre Room just know that's where I've gone completely off the deep end xD

sorry for the yap session i like talking about myself @_@; And also Thank you!!! :D Unexpendable was a pain in the ass to write and i am NEVER doing something like that again but i love how it came out. crazy cus the first ever fanfic i posted ever was a crossover fic. the history book had a roommate or something idk

alright im not rereading allat press post

[huntershowl-moving]

Positivity hour! Tell us about your favourite RP partner and your favourite thread! <3

OOH! i love positivity hour! cut for length because WORDY BITCH DISEASE STRIKES AGAIN APPARENTLY!

i don't think i could pin down just one favorite because i'm so incredibly lucky to have so many amazing partners during this sephblog golden age. this is only a few of the ppl who have touched my presence here and live in my brain rent free rn, i wish i could remember all of them but a shortlist will have to do o7

i will shoutout @harerazor and @tewwor for being my OGs, my rp besties, the truest mfs who always stick around through my year-long (sometimes years-long) absences and whenever i come back to discord or the dash, it's like we never left <3 AND for following me into my hyperfixation zones omg. writing windbreaker and jjk muses would be so much more lonely without u two in my life. <3

on the topic of OGs, @spiritcrown, @never-surrender and @bcdomens are the CREW!!!!!!!! THE FIRST PPL I EVER WROTE WITH AND SOME OF MY FAV FOLKS ON THIS HELLSITE you guys are the best. ily. connecting with u guys again felt like coming home.

@favorskill has ascended past the title of rp partner and into the title of friend. rio is one of my favorite people ever, genuinely, he's so cool and so skilled with writing/worldbuilding/watching his DICE MAKING SKILLS GROW has been so amazing too??? i care u so much rio. biting u. even when my brain is hopelessly deep in the fixation hole i am thinking about u and ur muses always <3

also shoutout to my wife @vsagis / @theixth (bc ik uve been on this one today) for just being like??? overall such a lovely person and an amazing writer??? our main dynamic is so deep and expansive we're starting to develop an extended universe for them. i love them i LOVE THEM TO DEATH. alex u match my freak ily i hope i get this job so we can hang out irl <3

speaking of matching my freak, @koseigu and i get along like a house on fire, and i don't think the world is truly ready for us. the more dynamics we develop, the more dangerous we become. everything we do with geto & sephsho ROCKS and i am terrified (excited) to see where seph and sukuna lead us in our newest explorations. we get up to some absolutely nasty (hot) shit with our creatures and it's always an amazing time. hehe

@chaoslulled hol you are so so so special to me. i owe u so many things and im so sorry omg but i literally never stop thinking about our threads & dynamics they're soooo good. i think you're one of the only partners i've actually been able to maintain Main Threads with over a long period of time?? there's something about the way we write together that makes that actually work in my brain which is super unusual JSDKJDHJKD i'm not complaining though, i love it so much. also your ocs are spinning around in my head on a daily basis, especially char because seph, chiaki and geto all like her very much. <3 ALSO. U ARE THE REASON I WRITE GETO. I HATE IT HERE HE WON'T LEAVE ME ALONE HOW COULD U DO THIS TO ME (affectionate). ur satoru is always the one he and seph come back to first because he is the original.

@quillheel and i have been mutuals for a while but didn't start regularly chatting until recently, and geto has been keeping me hostage in our 1x1 server over the last week or so, it's a problem, please help me. please. my crops are dying. also ur my current record breaker on "most fucked up start to an rp dynamic" with sukuna and rusa and im gonna be real i think u might hold that title for a while KJSDHIUSDHSJDHSJKDHJSKDH

@hinodae gray i think i would follow u to the ends of the earth. our little accidental threads have been some of my favorites ever, and i love to PIECES every one of our ship dynamics so far. thank u for being just as much of a slut for ships as i am, i feel like we match each other's energy and vibe so well!! TUMBLR BETTER UN-SHADOWBAN U SOON OR IM GONNA THROW HANDS >:'O

@eraserisms and @rcguish u two are like a package deal in my brain. D.A., the fact that we exist on the same chef wavelength always makes me so happy. i love seph and shota so much, they make me Hurt in all the best ways and i'm lookin forward to getting more into todoroki's voice so we can keep building out shota becoming his dad i mean mentoring him! and rys!!! i know ur absolutely going thru it rn so we haven't been talking as much lately, but i'm still just as feral for our dynamics as ever. seph and shouta's broken friendship. shou and orion's blossoming romance. seph has so many feelings and thoughts about silver that i don't even know how to articulate but that might need its own separate post. blowing u kisses.

lastly but not leastly, @gomannakami we only connected recently but we've already got this absolutely TRAGIC AND BEAUTIFUL set of pairings going on. satoru and chiaki are so stupidly cute and so so sad. seph and suguru are still in the beginning stages but i LOVE writing them sort of dancing around each other, the mutual pining is so spicy and delicious.

AS FOR THREADS!!!!!

ooh. hm. fuck. i think my first thought is always gonna be my longer-running threads with @chaoslulled — the one that stands out the most in my mind rn is the thread where satoru found seph on the brink of collapse after a hellhound kill. it was only the second thread we ever wrote together, and i ACUTELY remember how nervous i was that it was too intense and i was gonna scare hol away with it because that's happened so many times before. SJDHKSJHD

another one that comes to mind is one of my first threads with @tewwor's litho, which started with the simple inbox prompt "can't sleep?" and ended up turning into one of our longest threads to date and spiraling out into the longest fucking slowburn of this blog's career. i loved it. i'll never stop thinking about that apple.

[elliereject]

stupid bitch .2

* after learning about the feelings you’d harboured for her for so long, ellie was even more confused than before. however, after spending time away from you and even more time thinking, she realizes that fuck she feels the same way, if not stronger. she only hopes that you still feel the same way and she’ll be able to finally call you hers.

* angst at the beginning if you squint, ellie’s in denial and stupid, ellie lowkey being head over heels in love with you and everything you do, kissing, oral!reader receiving, scissoring, overstim, meanish!ellie, lots of mush

* hello! sorry it took a while for this part to come out, i wanted to make sure the ending was as dramatic as the first part with a satisfying end. i promise im not ignoring you guys i do see all of your sweet messages and requests to tag and i thank you all so much for interacting with me and enjoying what i write bc i enjoy writing it! unfortunately i cant respond 1on1 because this is not my primary account and tumblr hasn’t changed it so that alternate accounts can do all the things main ones do

ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ anyways i dont want to make this too long so im gonna wrap it up but again, thank you so much for the kind words it’s motivating me to continue writing and before i shut up i was just wondering if anybody would be interested in a ballerina!reader x ellie slowburn cuz it’s currently floating around in my drafts and i just wanna make sure it wouldnt flop also lol take a shot every time i use the word jade.

*mdni

*wc - 4k (bonus at the end)

part .1 here

“Stop fucking laughing Jesse, it’s not funny” Ellie frowned.

Jesse let out one last obnoxious guffaw before handing the joint back to Ellie, who was laying back on her beanbag, so he could wipe a stray tear from his eye.

“You’re right.” He said, suddenly serious. “It’s fucking hilarious.” He snorted, kicking his legs up and gasping for air.

Dina elbowed him hard from her seat next to him on Ellie’s old green couch, “She’s right, Jesse shut up.”

After that movie night-turned-love confession, Ellie had utterly broken down. The lines between her friendship with you had blurred so much she couldn’t see it clearly if she had fucking glasses on.

Her kiss with you had sent her down a whirlwind path of confusion and guilt. She had no idea where she stood with you and it’d been over a month and a half since she’s spoken to you.

After that night, Ellie ended things with Cat. She couldn’t handle being in a relationship especially when she wasn’t even sure she liked the girl she was dating anymore plus the fact you were in love with her. Cat had gotten mad, screaming matches were had and insults were thrown; but it was when she started coming for you, calling you a slut and a homewrecker and saying that she always knew you were trying to steal Ellie from her that she gave her 5 seconds to get the fuck out before she did something she regretted.

Cat had left with a scoff, taking Ellie’s favourite green sweater with her. After doing lots and lots of thinking, Ellie called up Dina for an emergency smoke sesh and to get some advice on what the fuck was going on since she somehow always knew what to do. Only she hadn’t known Jesse would be there and the headache he was inducing almost made her throw him out the door and she 100% would’ve if Dina wasn’t there.

“Thanks, Dee.”

“Of course, only I just have one question.” Ellie had just finished explaining what had happened between the two of you in the last couple months, hence the reason Jesse was about to pull a muscle from laughing so hard.

“Shoot.”

“Why the fuck did you stay with Cat for so long?”

Ellie groaned, taking a long puff of the joint before passing it to Dina so she could explain.

“I don’t fucking know she made me feel..good? And bad..but good. I know this is going to sound crazy but being with someone who was as fucked up as me felt…safe, like I wasn’t alone.”

“But she cheated on you like..a hundred times,” Jesse spoke up, finally recovering from his fit of laughter. Dina shot him a look.

“I know but, after she did, she’d be so apologetic and loving and I guess I got used to it and liked the amount of love and attention she was giving me so... I stayed and forgave her, again and again. Pretty fucked up, huh?” Ellie laughed dryly.

“Oh no, honey. Even the best of us fall victim to love-bombing.” Dina said, a comforting smile on her face.

“Yeah that’s sad and everything but what about ★, you treated her like shit.” Jesse said, a hint of sourness in his voice.

“I know—fuck! I know. Cat got in my head and kept telling me that she liked me and I didn’t want to believe it because she’s my best friend for fucks sake! But in those months I was dating Cat I found myself comparing the two of them more and more and I got scared because there was no way I should’ve been in love with her so like an idiot, I pushed her away and Cat pulled me in.” Ellie sighed, the retelling of the past couple of months making her cringe at how stupid she’s been.

She paused, grabbing the joint from Dina to take another drawl. “Then that night after we kissed I realized that fuck, I was in love with her and I kinda hated dating Cat…who also took my favourite hoodie.” Ellie said with a huff.

“Damn..you lesbians and your love triangles.” Jesse said, shaking his head.

“Shut up man, I know you and Dina have your own crazy shit going on.” Ellie rolled her eyes.

“Yes.” Jesse said, getting up to pluck the almost finished joint from her hand, “We do, but we settle it internally.”

Dina nodded, “Anyways, are you and ★…” She trailed off, unsure how to finish her sentence.

“I don’t fucking know, I needed some time to think and I wanted to give her some space but it’s been weeks and I’m fucking terrified she’s never gonna speak to me again.”

Jesse shook his head, “You guys have been friends for years, just give her a little more time, she’ll come around.”

“But what if she doesn’t?” Ellie said, leaning forward to hang her head in her hands. “I miss her so fucking much you guys.”

“You need a distraction,” Dina said suddenly, clapping her hands together.

“I agree.” Jesse nodded his head, putting out the joint on the light blue ashtray sitting on the coffee table. “I’m hungry as hell, go buy us some pizza.”

“Fuck you, I’m not your butler.” Ellie rolled her eyes, again.

“Come on, you know you’re hungry too.” Dina said in a sing-songy voice.

“I’m not.” She was.

“Just go, I’ll Venmo you.” Jesse groaned.

Ellie sighed but got up anyways, grabbing her coat from the back of her seat and walking up to her door.

“Fine, but you guys better not just be trying to get me out so you can fuck, again.”

“We would never,” Dina said reassuringly.

“That’s exactly what we’re doing.” Jesse shrugged, earning another jab in the side from Dina.

Ellie rolled her eyes for what seemed like the millionth time tonight as she left her dorm. As much as they annoyed her, Ellie was grateful to have Dina (and Jesse) there to help her through whatever the hell was going on.

Her walk to the diner was a long one as she purposely took a different route to get there. She’d hate to admit it but the couple was right, she had needed a distraction and the freezing winds against her flushed skin helped along with the high from her earlier joint helping to calm her rapid thoughts and allowing her a minute to breathe.

However, when she pushed open the door to Sal’s—her favourite diner— it was like every ounce of stress that had just dissipated came flooding back x10.

“Ellie,” The girl said, giving her a tight smile from her seat on one of the old stools near the counter.

“Cat..” Ellie sighed.

When the two of them were still together, they’d spent countless date nights here sharing milkshakes and sneaking kisses in the bathroom. She’d even considered branding it “their spot” but thank god she didn’t because she probably never would’ve come back again.

“What are you doing here?” Ellie asked.

“What..just because we broke up means that I can’t come here anymore?” Cat laughed dryly, and swirl red her straw around her chocolate milkshake.

“No, I didn’t mean—“

“Kidding, I know what you meant.” Cat patted the stool next to her, “So how are you and ★? You two should be in the honeymoon stage by now, right?”

Ellie shuffled up to the counter, ordering a pepperoni and cheese pizza to go before sitting down gingerly next to Cat.

“Actually, we haven’t talked since that night.”

“You’re fucking with me,” Cat said, mouth agape.

Ellie shook her head, “Dead serious.”

Cat made a noise, something between a scoff and a laugh before turning to look at Ellie.

“You haven’t even tried reaching out to her? You fucking broke up with me because of her—“

“Among other reasons.”

She rolled her eyes, “And you haven’t even talked to her yet?”

“I’m giving her space.”

She shook her head, muttering an “I don’t fucking get you, Williams.” before returning to her milkshake.

By then, Ellie’s order was ready and she took the boxes, brushing past her ex after mumbling, “Yeah, I know.”

Ellie’s walk back to her dorm started slow, she tried collecting her thoughts, tried to organize and arrange them in a way she could understand but she couldn’t focus. Cat’s words wrung in her ears, the only thing she could pick apart from the tornado was you, you you you you.

Fucking you.

Your gorgeous eyes that always seemed to find hers and when they did fuck it was like the world stopped, and your laugh oh my god your laugh, it’d been so long since she heard your laugh and how she craved it. Don't even get her started on how you always knew exactly what to say to her when she was feeling down, and how you tasted..like everything she’d ever wished and more, and how after that night she ached to taste you again, to feel you; how just being near you immediately skyrocketed her mood. She wasn’t herself without you and she was the best version of herself when she was.

Could you be addicted to someone? She didn’t think so, but somehow with you, it seemed like you could. Ellie wasn’t sure when she’d started running, but as she felt sweat perspire on her brow and her breathing come in as quick laboured breaths all she knew is that she needed to see you.

—★

She made it back to her dorm, fumbling to open her door while balancing the pizzas in her hand. When she finally threw open the door she ignored the sight of Jesse laying his head on Dina’s lap and plopped the boxes on the coffee table.

“I’m going to go see her.” She huffed, already making her way to the door to start running to your dorm.

“What happened to space?” Jesse called out.

“Fuck space!” She yelled back, ditching the elevator and opting for the stairs. Later, she’d have given you the entire fucking solar system if you wanted, but right now? She needed to see you be close to you, hold you, kiss you.

She pumped her legs harder, silently wishing she had done track for longer than 3 months back in middle school. Her chest burned and her neck and back were slick with sweat but she was almost there. She didn’t know what the fuck she was going to say to you but she’d figure something out.

When she finally reached your building, she brushed past the residence hall director who’d seen her hundreds of times before and decided on the elevator this time to organize her thoughts a little before seeing you.

Her nerves started to catch up to her as she watched the numbers above the metal door change, was she ready to see you? What if you didn’t want to see her? What if you just straight up refused to talk to her?

Before she could chicken out, the elevator had reached your floor. She walked down the hall to your door and took three deep breaths before knocking. She heard a little shuffling from behind your door and a small gasp before you opened it, peeking your head out.

“Ellie..” You breathed.

“★. Please, I need to talk to you.”

Your eyes flashed to the floor, avoiding her pleading gaze. “Is Cat okay with you being here?”

“We broke up.”

“What?” You questioned, letting the door swing open and allowing her to take in your full form. You were wearing fuzzy pyjama pants with cute characters patterned on them and a thick oversized sweatshirt. The whites of your eyes were slightly red and the bags beneath them were prominent. She could tell you had been crying and it made her heart lurch, she wanted to pull you into her chest, breathe you in and never let go.

“Yeah, it— can I come in?” She asked.

“Uhm..” You bit your lip, probably thinking whether or not you should let her into your dorm, let her back into your life.

“Please. I promise I’ll make it quick.” She practically begged, lowering her head so she could lock her jade eyes on yours.

You nodded, moving back so she could step inside. You led her to the small couch in the living room as if she hadn’t been there thousands of times before. You sat silently across from her, eyes filled with worry and a tiny gleam of hope and she felt the urge to pull you into her chest bloom throughout her. Of course, she planned on doing that later, but as of right now, she had to set things straight.

“Let me just start off by saying, I’m sorry. ★ I’m so fucking sorry for how I treated you when I was dating Cat.” You tried and failed to ignore the way her voice cracked, pain and genuinity adorned her features.

“We were both terrible for each other but my fucked up brain thought it made sense that I was with her. That she was what I deserved…” She looked up from fidgeting hands to meet your eyes, she couldn’t read your face so she continued.

“I’d been feeling..” She paused, looking up to gather her thoughts. She never really was good with her words, but she needed you to know how much you meant to her, how much love she held for you in her heart. “Shit...I’d been feeling different when it came to you...like I swear to fucking god you’re made of sunlight and sweetness or something cause my heart swells whenever I think of you, and when you’re not with me I feel so…!” She groaned and you giggled, so soft that if her ears weren’t trained to hear and take in every sound you made she would’ve missed it, and her heart softened and swelled and spun and sputtered.

“I pushed you away because I was scared of those feelings, but that night, after we kissed. I realized that... I love you, ★. And I completely understand if you never want to see me again, God knows I don’t deserve you but—“

“Stop.” You said, suddenly standing up to walk over to her.

Her jade eyes searched yours desperately, for any sign of what you were thinking, how you were feeling if you were fighting the same urge as her to pull her into your arms and kiss her like the world was ending tomorrow.

“Stop saying that,” She looked at you, confusion flooded her features.

Your soft hands found her rough ones and the warmth that flooded from you to her made her lightheaded, how the hell was it possible to love someone this much?

“Ellie, words can’t describe how much I cared for you,”

‘cared’ She physically felt her heart rip.

“and I need you to know you deserve everything good in life.”

“Does that include you?” She said with a weak smile.

You looked to the side, dropping her hands. “You..hurt me.”

Ellie shot up faster than she’d ever moved in her life, her hands coming up to cup the sides of your face, “And I want to rip my fucking heart out every time I remember, but I need you in my life, lovebug.”

Your eyes finally met hers and you could practically hear the “whoosh” from your resolve flying out of your body. You’d never seen a shade of green so beautiful, so passionate, so desperate.

This time, it was your eyes flicking to her lips and you didn’t even have a second to pull back before her lips were on yours. This kiss had the same amount of wanting as your last one, but it was softer, slower. Like if she went too fast you’d disappear from her hands and she couldn’t lose you again.

She pulled away only to place strawberry kisses along your neck and collarbone, eliciting that same sweet sound she had heard from you only a few weeks prior and she knew she needed to have you.

Your hands tugged gently at her top and she shrugged off her coat, lips still connected to your neck. Her hands dipped beneath your sweater to trace soft squiggles against your stomach with her short nails.

She released her hold on your neck and spun you around so that you were sitting on your couch and she was towering over you.

She watched as your chest rose and fell rapidly, how your eyes met hers, glossed over in a way she’s never seen before, your soft slips glistening and slightly swollen. She’d never been more turned on in her life.

She knelt, her veiny hands hooking onto the top of your pants and underwear before she looked back up at you,

“Is it okay if I take these off?”

You nodded fervently and bit your lip as she slid them off, ever so slowly. She had waited too long to do this, you’d better believe she was going to savour each moment.

You felt the cold air hit your cunt and her mossy eyes immediately snapped to it, she looked as if she was in a trance. She’d been staring for so long you would’ve gotten self-conscious if not had she said,

“So fucking pretty.”

Heat rose to your cheeks and your eyes focused on the wall to the side of you but you scrunched them closed when you felt her lick a stripe up your folds.

You’d heard from a friend of a friend who was friends with Cat that Ellie gave insane head. And of course, anger and jealousy and bitterness swirled through you at the thought of her performing such acts on another person, so for your own well-being you denied and refused to believe it.

And fuck were you eating your words. Her tongue swirled expertly around your cunt and your eyes were practically rolling to the back of your head, and the borderline pornographic sounds you were making were like fucking music to her ears.

“Fuck so good, Ellie.”

She’d never admit it but she was a sucker for praise so with the words that fell from your beautiful mouth she made sure to speed up her movements, your legs were shaking at this point and somehow your hand had found its way into her auburn locs, tugging softly which resulted in soft grunts from her that reverberated through your body and cause a feeling like no other.

That familiar feeling began welling up inside, a knot that grew tighter, and tighter, and tighter until snap. Your thighs trembled violently and your throat felt hoarse from how much you were screaming, despite your climax, Ellie was still between your legs and the sensation was becoming a bit too much.

You tried to close your close but a veiny hand gripped your thigh, forcing you open once again. You peered down into her jade eyes, her pupils were blown so wide that they looked almost entirely black and a slight shiver ran through your body, a good shiver. They were demanding and bordering hungry.

Before you knew it her mouth was back in you, sucking and lapping up everything you would give her. It’s when her tongue slipped into you that you started to feel fucking delirious. Sobs and moans of her name tumbled out of you as your hold on her hair tightened and you were nearly riding her face.

“Ellie..fuck, please so close, ‘s close ‘s—“

Your eyebrows knitted together and a silent moan escaped you as you gushed on her face and she finally pulled away from you, giving both of you a chance to catch your breath.

“Holy shit.” She breathed out, wiping the bottom of her freckled face with the back of her hand. That hungry look at disappeared and the familiar love drunk one had replaced it.

“I should be saying that.” You said airily.

She smiled, “You taste really fucking good, y’know that?”

You shook your head bashfully and she stood up, her knees aching from kneeling so long and sat next to you before pulling you in for a short but deep kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on her tongue.

“Now you do.”

You smiled and it melted her soul just a teensy bit, but she could get sappy about it later. Right now? She needed to fuck you so good you’d laugh whenever you thought about your past lovers in comparison to her.

“Can you lay down for me, bug?” She asked, so sweetly you almost forgot she basically sent you to heaven just a few minutes prior.

She stood up to remove her shirt and briefs and allow you to remove your shirt and get comfortable on the couch. She slid between your legs, hoisting one of them over her shoulder as she aligned her hips with yours.

“Tell me if it‘s too much, alright?”

You nodded and she lowered herself onto you, her lean thighs keeping her upright as she agonizingly slowly rocked against you. You whined at her pace and she tutted.

“Come on, pretty, use your words.” She said, smirking lazily down at you.

“Need you to go faster.” You begged.

She nodded, speeding up her pace and drawing out a high-pitched whimper from you. Her eyes were practically fixed on your chest as she watched them bounce and sway with each movement. One of her hands came down to toy with your nipple while the other one held your leg steady so she could grind relentlessly against your clit.

The movements had started unsteady but as the two of you found a rhythm that was pleasurable to both of you, even Ellie couldn’t hold back the raspy moans and groans, not to mention her finger on your nipple which made your already sopping cunt gush even more, giving her the ability to glide across you back and forth.

Your hips bucked against her avidly and her eyes rolled back into her head as chants of your name fell from her lips over and over again.

“So good ★, feel ‘s good.” She rasped.

You froze beneath her as your third orgasm of the night slammed through you and your body practically went limp. Ellie followed soon after, the sight of you fucked out was better than anything her imagination could’ve stirred up and she couldn’t help but wonder how your face would look with her strap buried between you, as well as how it was a more beautiful sight than she’d ever seen with Cat or any other girl she’d been with and that was what had her reeling over the edge, creaming all over your cunt as she tremored vigorously. She collapsed onto top of you, her tattooed arm keeping her up right so she didn’t crush you as she placed open mouth kisses along your jaw, drinking in the soft giggled you gave in return.

Finally, she peeled away from you, allowing herself to catch her breath before trudging to your tiny kitchen to grab a damp rag and a glass of water, she came back and held the glass to your lips encouraging you to drink it all before setting the empty cup on the table to wipe your legs down gently.

You jumped slightly when the rag grazed your puffy clit and she mumbled out a “Sorry, bug.” before grabbing your wrist and placing a sweet kiss on it.

“So,” you sighed tiredly, “are we..”

She chuckled, “Are we…what?”

“Girlfriends..?”

She frowned and shook her head, “Oh..no.”

Your heart fell right into the deepest darkest depths of your soul. Was this just a one-time thing? Had all the things she said earlier not been true? Were you—

“I don’t have a ring yet, but I’m sure nobody would care if I start calling you my wife already.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving her softly to which she laughed.

“You have seriously got to work on your timing.”

“I know, I know…but it’s charming right?”

“Fuck you.”

“You just did.”

You let out an exasperated groan but you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face at the sound of her laughter and her hands snaking around you to pull you into her.

And in that moment, regardless of her past with Cat and others, her past with you, the hurtful things said and less than admirable actions she’d done, she knew that you were in fact, the perfect one for her.

bonus! (^з^)-☆

“I’m telling you, these are the best milkshakes in the state.” Ellie boasted.

Jesse shook his head, “No, ★ this summer I am taking you to The Cinnamon Angel back in Seattle, Ellie doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about.”

Ellie scoffed, using the arm currently wrapped around your shoulder to point an accusing finger at him, “Dude, you don’t know what you’re talking about. The Cinnamon Angel can’t even…“

Ellie’s voice drowned out when Dina rolled her eyes from across you and leaned across the booth to chat with you over Ellie’s and Jesse’s bickering.

“This isn’t what I was expecting when I suggested a double date.” She sighed sarcastically.

You giggled, “I had a feeling it was going to be like this.”

The four of you were squeezed into a tiny booth at the back of Ellie’s favourite diner, bickering bonding over salty fries and frothy milkshakes. You hadn’t talked much to Dina despite her being your girlfriend's close friend and your close friend's girlfriend, which you regret because she was so sweet and funny.

Ellie threw her arms back with a huff, officially exasperated with Jesse, “Dina, I really don’t know how you put up with this guy, let alone date him.”

“Eh, he’s not all bad.” She smirked, nudging him with her shoulder.

You laughed but it was quick to die out when your eyes trailed over to the entrance after the familiar sound of bells signaled someone walking in.

Dark eyes fell on yours and you were met with a grim expression, Ellie followed where you were looking and the arm that was around your shoulder tightened slightly.

The raven head trekked over to your booth, greeting both you and Ellie with a tight smile.

“You two are so cute together!” She said flatly.

You grinned, ignoring the sarcasm that laced her voice “Thank you!”

“Definitely cuter than you and Ellie ever were,” Jesse mumbled into his milkshake and Dina turned her head, trying and failing to hide her laugh.

Cat rolled her eyes before pretending to drop something and bending to pick up nothing so she could whisper, “You two aren’t going to last, you’re not even her type.”

Anger bloomed through you, seriously, what the hell was this girl's damage? Before she could walk away you stuck your foot out causing her to stumble and turn around to face you, glaring daggers. Ellie must’ve heard what she’d said though, because one of her long fingers pulled the neck of your shirt back just a sliver, revealing the prominent mark she had made just a few nights prior.

Ellie’s jade eyes bored into her damn, if looks could kill.

You smiled sweetly and leaned into Ellie’s arm.“I beg to differ.”

Cat’s face reddened embarrassingly quickly and you could practically see the steam shooting out of her ears, she turned around hastily and stomped out of the diner and you’d hoped she could hear the boisterous laughter that bubbled out of each of you after the door had closed.

tagz (^з^)-☆

@blvebanisters @cassharass @pick-me-up-im-scared @skylerwhitwyo @lil-elliesgf @elsmissingfingers @herdelreydear @koremis @gold-dustwomxn @whenlostinthedarkness

[kennedys-lvr]

TENNESSEE WHISKEY, STRAWBERRY WINE — CHAPTER 21 (AO3)

yall ready for some sweet sweet smut? 😈 ngl lowkey loved writing chris redfield smut... i can't wait until i eventually get to the fic where chris is gonna be a main man in it. but that won't be for a VERYY long time yet, so enjoy this taster.

NOTICE: because ao3 has been inundated with a slew of bots that accuse authors of using ai, which have been targeting my fics, i have decided to lock my fics so that only registered users can comment. guests, u can still kudos (im pretty sure) but until the bots stop or at least cool off, if u wanna comment on my fics ur either gonna need an account or u can use my tumblr askbox as a reaction space lol.

full chapter here! enjoy it chris girlies 😉

If someone had told ten-year-old me that in fifteen years I would be kissing Chris Redfield after having one of the wildest first dates of my life at The Hay Barn, she wouldn’t have believed it. If someone had told fourteen-year-old me this, she would have been curious about it, giving them her rapt attention whilst also doing her best not to squirm too much.

But, here I am—straddling the lap of the guy I had liked at ten years old, loved at fourteen years old, and at twenty-five years old.. I’m not too sure. All I can say is there’s a reason I had fallen hard for him back then, and perhaps this is it.

Chris’ lips are soft against my own, moving with certainty yet also with a sense of wanting to take his time. Always wanting to have me at ease, as my fingers thread into those cropped strands of brown whilst his own hand wraps around my hair, gently tugging on it enough to make me tilt my head back slightly so that his tongue can gently slip past my lips with grace and decorum like a polite guest.

This is everything I had once dreamed of, right down to the music—when we had got into the truck, staring at each other with the nervousness of teenagers on prom night, he had held my gaze as he had switched on his truck, adjusted his playlist to play Foreigner’s ‘I Wanna Know What Love Is’, and then pressed his lips onto mine without a second of hesitation or doubt.

He groans into my mouth as his tongue dances around mine—two circling waltzers, snakes sliding against one another in a dance that is easy to pick up once the mood settles. I suck in that sound, letting it run through me like a shot of vodka straight into my gut.

His other hand, the one that has been pressed into my hip and keeping me held to his lap, drags itself up my front. His fingernail rasps against the metal teeth of my zipper as he goes, my stomach clenching at the sound and my heart skipping a beat as his fingers settle on the pull tab.

Our mouths separate, a string of saliva breaking between us as we both breathe heavily. My eyes flutter back open, blurry as I gaze into his own glassy eyes and heavy-lidded stare, his kiss-swollen lips making me bite my bottom lip nervously.

“Can I?” His voice is a deep, almost needy rasp—and it reminds me of him. 

I blink, Chris’ features blending back into Leon’s as arousal starts to confuse me. My heart races as I picture Leon’s lips again, remembering the feeling of his tongue in my mouth, the drag of hands against my skin as he had held me up against that wall.

But then Chris is back in front of me. His eyes are patient, locked onto my own parted lips as his fingers hesitate on my zipper. Awaiting for my go-ahead, my approval, my anticipation for this.

I close my eyes, feeling that pinching feeling again. My body cries out for this, for more, but my heart aches because as much as I want Chris, I want somebody else more.

But that someone else isn't here. That someone else doesn't want me.

Chris wants me.

“Yes.” I breathe out before I can change my mind, squeezing my eyes shut tight as stars dot around my eyelids. I tense slightly at the rasp of the zipper, gasping at the searing drag of his hands as he pushes the material from my shoulders. 

Goosebumps track across my skin like something skitters across it, the warm huff of his breath on my bare skin making me suck in another breath. “Holy fuck..”

I’m so nervous—even though I've had guys stare at me before. I’ve allowed men to undress me slowly, or undressed for men and let them in myself. Chris’ reaction is one I’ve heard before, yet it still makes that flush on my cheeks spread across my skin like a fever.

“What?” A laugh bubbles in my throat as I ask a question that doesn't need answering.

“You.”

“What about me?”

“Just—”

One of his hands comes up to my breasts. He cups one of them, squeezing the heavy mound through the plush black material. I let out a soft whimper, arching myself into his shaking, waiting hand as his thumb swipes at my nipple through the fabric, pressing down just hard enough for me to feel that jolt that chases right down into my core.

“Just trying to wrap my head around it, is all. That you.. are actually fucking here, sitting on my lap and letting me touch you.”

His head dips down to my neck, pressing soft yet insistent kisses against my fluttering pulse. My mouth drops open on a soft whine, my hand tightening in his hair as his lips move down to my collarbone. His tongue marks a hot trail right to the top of my breast.

Something presses up at me from between my legs, that denim bulge making my stomach drop. I press back into it naturally, and Chris lets out a low groan that has me freezing as I’m forced back into that memory I’m trying so hard to forget—the haze of the club, the rocking of those hips against my own, the deep sensation of a bulge that I had to hastily recreate to finish myself off because I had only received a fraction of it—

“More.” I whisper, a gentle whimper of begging leaving my throat as I tip my head back and rock my hips again, seeking that delicious friction. 

Chris sucks in a breath, his hands moving quickly to unlatch my bra. I shudder as his warm breath ghosts over my bare breasts, my nipples hardening to sore peaks begging for more attention from him—from Leon. My body is back inside that club, willing and ready for him, searching for more than he had given me.

“How much more?” Chris asks, his hands grasping and groping at my breasts before he drags a hand slowly down my stomach. Heat chases after it, making me feel sick as it pools in my gut then tingles into my clit, making me gasp desperately for air as my mouth opens wide.

“More,” I hiss, my body feeling like it’s on fire. My fingertips burn to feel something, my mouth is simultaneously dry and full of saliva, and I feel dizzy. 

If my brain was an office building right now, a fire alarm would be going off and panic would be ensuing as that flood warning is being broadcast.

His fingers stop at the edge of my panties, tracing the elasticated edge like he was waiting for something. He sucks in a breath and then lets out a groan as his hand begins pushing past that barrier between us—between my aching, pulsing folds and his delicate yet rough fingers.

“Holy shit..” His thumb presses into my clit, causing the little bundle of nerves to spasm with greed. I moan, my hips surging upwards to allow more space for his hand as it ducks fully underneath. When I settle, I feel his callouses dragging across my sensitive skin, shivering from the overload of lust coursing through my veins.

He moves his thumb in slow circles against me, and I groan at the churning sensation in my gut, the tsunami of pleasure that ripples through me at a fever pitch. He presses tighter when he reaches the top of that circular motion, then as he rounds back down he releases the pressure in a move that has my arousal mounting to new heights. 

I find myself thinking back to my fourteen-year-old self, who had sat in that bedroom in that spacious and empty New York apartment, clicking tentatively on a YouTube video of him that Claire had sent me. I remember the sudden flutter of nerves in my stomach as I had watched Chris in the saddle in that widescreen aspect ratio, rocking back and forth as the Albertan crowd cheered for him. Everything in me had felt numb, and the very first instance of what I would later come to know as pleasure had raced through me.

And nothing compares to whatever the fuck this is. This is real. And I’m chasing that craving like a ravenous lioness, drunk on pleasure and bliss and a lot of vodka.

The soft thump of his head hitting the headrest behind him has me fluttering my eyes open, my blurry vision soaking him in. He stares down between us, at the way his hand has pushed so brazenly past my panty line. His eyes then flash up to meet mine, blazing beneath the dim light of the truck’s cab. A slow grin stretches across his lips like he can't believe this is happening either.

Then suddenly Leon is back in my head, as I picture a dark, sweaty mop of hair and a hardened gaze, the flash of perfect white teeth and a stubbled scratchy jawline framing perfect lips that I miss the sensation of.

I groan, bucking into his hand as Chris sinks his fingers into me after another slow, deep rub against my clit with his thumb as if to mentally prepare me. Slowly at first, he gives me his pointer finger, then pulls out gently and adds his middle finger. They push up against my spongy inner muscles, the tightness of my pussy making him hiss as his thumb presses down deeper onto my frazzled—frail—clit. 

I squeak and moan, biting down hard on my tongue as I ride into him, seeking more.

[wackymaci]

HIIIII SECRET ACCOUNT FOLLOWERS.

I have a new target goal!

GATHER ROUND for three announcements, ALL TEN OF YOU

1: okay first of all…… lol. 🫠 LISTEN maybe one day I’ll actually complete my now formally hiatus’d forever wiki but as it turns out my inability to be concise in, oh say, a Wikipedia style summary format, is..,,,, a fatal flaw when one is attempting to make a… Wikipedia… style…. Summary.,,.. 100,000 words literally of an incompleted Maci-POV-Only-Article-Half later before losing interest here we are! UMM!! (I’m keeping the website and every so often I poke at it so it doesn’t get deleted for inactivity but! hmm!) You see this is why I couldn’t make a public announcement I KNEW I would do this. MOVING ON - MAYBE REVISIT IN THE FUTURE (I wont) - BUT IM SO SORRY….

But anyway, 2!! Currently;

I,, have finally found someone looking for website building commissions. and what do you know I have been in need of a cute website to be built, whining into the atmosphere about it in fact, and 🤝 several emails later, THIS is now hopefully going to be happening instead. (Not set in stone yet but - I’m excited and so Lemme ramble again here about projects that may or may not happen as long as it’s secret!!) My biggest and only real goal is to use this as an art gallery archive!!! Literally the same as the @welcometoelysiumm blog or say…. My art tag….. but MINE, as my anxiety over spontaneously losing any of my many social medias OR PARTICULARLY TUMBLR increases in these modern times….

i ideally want to Reaupload my entire art pile, which dates from 2013 to current, WHILE PRESERVING THE CAPTIONS AND ESSAYS TETHERED TO EACH. it’s the context of my own commentary that matters the most to me because I have all my actual art backed up, so not being able t preserve POSTS is the reason I can’t make an even shift to like, Bsky. So! Website building process is going to be starting soon. cute homepage, FAQ, me n’ Fenixe’s castlist bios like on the Elysium blog, and then 900 postdated drawings. then I’lll be in a playful hell environment for a while to go through 900 drawings to Re upload while trying not to get sucked down memory lane and crazy distracted

And THEN!!!

3: my new shifted shortterm goal, in lieu of wiki project, if I can do this very feasible thing, is to resume and actually complete the complete Elysium Timeline Bullet Point List of Events. In fact I posted the two parts [ONE!!!] [TWO!!!] I’d already done right on this blog! (Merely OoC the real-life-years of 2009-2012)

Sure it’s not very detailed but it’s a concise fun SUMMARY SUMMARY SUMMARY ITS ACTUALLYYYYY A SUMMARY of our canon and. since I still have no intention ever of doing anything with Elysium besides from what i am and have always been doing, maybe THIS is the answer to have some THING to read up on as content short of publishing our Canon Convos which I won’t EVER do lmaooo aaaaaaaa

once I get settled down with potential website progress I’m going to start trying to revisit the timeline I’ve already written and perhaps resume where I paused (I had written a little from Loki’s entrance but paused right where the artist-formally-known-as-Giselle enters - because we were mid retcon - we have FINISHED that retcon so I can now go back there!). and honestly,,, it was a relatively low effort list to write other than the massive cross-checking research I got lost in to make sure everything was exactly right because I’m neurotic

. So!! Fingers crossed I can do this!!! I think I can do at this barest minimum.,, this!!!

but! just in case NONE of this comes to fruition!! secret blog only it is….. shhhh:)))

anywayyyyyy. thanks ganggang

[gebnohe]

The Number One and Only!!

hsr women x idol reader

characters: Acheron, Robin, Serval (separately, not in order)

tags: gn!reader, fluff, idol, idol!reader, established relationship, suggestive for some

a/n: I COMPLETELY FORGOT I HAD A TUMBLR ACCOUNT  LOLLL

so firstly i wanna say i know almost nothing about celebrity culture i dunno how red carpet stuff works or whatever and yeaheayeeayeyayeah 

idk if this has been done already and youll probably see this a lot in my author notes

ive only read maybe a few fics to understand the [acceptable] format and stuff, and theyve only really been hsr fics

i love hsr! wow! 

i did just throw this together when i remembered i had a tumblr so apologies if it isnt up to the best quality im rusty and motivationless

also i like doing these little author stuff for whatever reason idk i find them nice

apologies if i did any mischaracterizing in here i try my best to get characters done right and whatnot

sorry about length differences…! owwwww

PLEASE GIVE ME IDEAS FOR THE NEXT ONE PLEASE 

(and yes, if you recognize the reference in the title, it IS one… heh…) 

you are a king/queen/monarch/ruler/supreme leader/dictator(? 😨 hopefully not) gg!

errr about the robin one my friend did ask that i write an nsfw of it (i did end up doing it) but im not sure if its actually good or not.

idk how/if ill link it

i also just dont really want to be a smut writer, i just wanna write cute warm maybe suggestive but not nsfw stuff… (on the occasion i remember this account)

also are there female firefly fans?? i genuinely have never seen one 

still doing a tiiiny bit of semi colon practice because wife said it was hot when used properly so i am going out of my way to start using them. anything for wife. lesbians unite. sapphics unite ✊. i hope you all find your second scissor.. 

Context: You’re an idol working under an agency! Pretty basic formula. You’re extremely popular, and able to charm anyone with next to no effort. People lay their eyes on you and fall in love almost immediately. Your performances are always beautiful, eye catching, and got every witness addicted from the moment you start to the moment you end. (Also this was written with the intent of you being a different [kind of] idol in each one, but idk feel however you want or something??)

Acheron:

Work today was exhausting… again. You’re going on tour soon, so your managers are stressing out about plans, being hinderances and disturbing your peace. How could an agency be so unprepared? 

It didn’t matter… they paid well at least. But your whole week had been exhausting; your manager was being the pain in the ass they always were, and you were working “overtime” practicing your routine just to make sure you got it down to just how it was intended. 

And when you were finally allowed to go home, you barely made it to the car. Hell, you were having a hard time keeping your eyes open. But somehow, you’d managed to get home.

You fumble with your keys for a few seconds before you finally unlock the door, exhaustedly stepping inside. And there, you’re greeted by your gorgeous girlfriend, Acheron. 

“Ah, you’re home?” She says, immediately noticing your exhaustion as she approaches. 

“Exhausting work.” You groan. “…this week is stressful…”

Acheron walks over to you, providing a kiss on your cheek and taking your hand, leading you to the bedroom to lie down and rest. 

“Mmm…” You murmur, following along as she guides you. “Thank you…”

Instead of lying you down on the bed, she sits on the side of it and gently pulls you onto her lap, making you straddle her.

“How was work?” She asks, eyes shifting to look up at you, hands coming to rest on your thighs, “Wait. You already said.” 

Acheron cuts you off, a small and gentle smile on her lips, her finger on yours after coming up from your thigh. 

“Yeah… but Aeons… it’s been so stressful this week…” You sigh, smiling softly back at her. “My manager is being so anno…” 

You suddenly trail off, Acheron’s hands caressing you from your thighs to your waist and back again. Her lips found your neck and she start gently kissing your skin, occasionally nipping at it. 

“Continue…” She murmurs, breath warm against your neck. 

You shiver while Acheron continues pressing her lips to your neck, “Annoying… and…” 

You try to continue, but the continued affection and kisses on your neck along with the touches make it even harder to focus. Acheron’s hands start to undo your clothes, your skin slowly forgetting the caresses of the fabric and becoming familiar with the caresses of Acheron’s hands. 

“Forget about work…” She whispers, lips moving to your ear and giving a playful and suggestive nip. Your hands struggle to find something to hold onto in order to steady yourself while she moves down to your collarbone, still speaking quietly.

“You can just let me treat you tonight…”

Serval:

Serval clearly had musical talent, which you easily scouted from the moment you saw her when you toured in Belobog. You informed your manager about her, and easy as that. Now she was working with you, helping compose and create new songs for you to perform. You’d noticed more about Serval though, with her musical talent not being the only thing that drew you to her. That vibrant, electric, outgoing, and sociable personality. Even that purple streak of her hair was really cute. And over the time you two worked together, you two grew really close. It evolved from just a work relationship to a friendship, and from a friendship to a relationship. 

But you stop your daydreaming reminiscence when you hear a knock on the studio door, Serval peaking her head into the room. 

“You in here?” She says, looking around the room before her eyes rest in you. “There you are.” 

Serval’s expression softens, taking a step into the room with a coffee in her hand, and the another being held between her arm and chest. 

“You alright there?” You chuckle, standing up and walking over. “Need help?” You ask, watching her awkwardly try to close the door while simultaneously trying to not spill either coffee she was carrying. 

“Ah, thanks, love.” Serval replies gently, exhaling with a bit in relief as you take the coffee she was holding between her arm and chest. 

“You look good today.” She smirks, “I mean, not that it’s anything new but… even better than usual.”

“Really now?” You smirk back, returning the tease, “Though… I’m not sure if you could look any better.” 

“Damn right.” She laughs gently, closing the door behind her, then kisses you.

Serval takes your hand, walking over to the table which was only a few feet away, snd sets her coffee on the table, looking you in the eyes. “So. Do we actually plan on getting work done today? Or are you just gonna let me cling to you for a few more hours?” 

“I’d love that, but we need to actually finish this song.” You chuckle back. “We can do that after or during, but we actually need to work now.” 

Serval wraps her hands around your waist and pulls you towards you, then lovingly kisses you while squeezing your body against hers. “…Fine.” She smirks, amused  that you’re getting a but strict on her. “Let me finish my coffee first. I can’t work in peak shape unless I’m actually awake fully.” 

“…Eh. Fair enough.” You shrug, compromising. She was never a morning person, after all. 

Serval takes another sip from her cup then sets it back down on the table, the arm moving back around you and meeting her other hand around your back. 

“So. You actually got any plans for what we’re gonna work on today? Or are we just going in… raw?” She asks with a raised eyebrow and suggestive tone. 

“Damn it, Serval.” You laugh gently, “Be quiet.” 

Serval smiles warmly back at you, hugging you again then finishing her coffee. “Alright, alright. Fine. Later then.” She boops your nose playfully, then kisses your cheek and steps away from the table. 

Serval randomly pauses and slowly turns to you. “…Have we even started working on the song yet?” 

You stare at her blankly in response for a few seconds. “Uh.” 

Serval bursts out into a gently laughter, her beautiful and cheerful voice filling the room before she slowly manages to compose herself, a grin rapidly growing on your face. “Okay, okay. We should start now.” 

“Wow, great idea.” You say sarcastically with an affectionate eye roll, walking over and taking her hand while shifting into a softer tone. “So where should we start?”

Robin:

You were both heavily involved with the music industry, obviously. Fellow singer, performer, whatever. It didn’t matter, because Robin had fallen in love immediately. She loved the way you moved when you sang, how you held the mic… and her eyes always being glued to your lips as you performed. SHE was your number 1 fan.

But of course, your relationship obviously couldn’t be public. Do you realize how much attention that would attract? Yeah, no. You both were celebrities, but having paparazzi asking Robin if you and her had tongue-kissed yet sounded the farthest bit from pleasant. 

And there you were. You were on that shining stage, singing and performing, looking beautiful as you always did. All of this was only enhanced by the glaring lights, the way the crowd cheering you on from below just made you shine even more. And it even with all of the combine efforts of all those elements, Robin still felt her eyes drawn and glued to your lips. 

She continues watching from backstage while you wrap up your performance, waving to the crowd as the curtains closed while a bead of sweat glides down your face and the spotlights shine down upon your position on stage. 

The curtains fully close and you exhale, gently putting your hand on your chest. “Haah…” You breathe, sweat drops trailing down your face and hitting the floor. You take a moment for yourself so you can catch your breath, then make your way backstage.

While walking, you sigh again, exhausted from the performance you just put on as you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. You slowly turn around, and Robin suddenly presses her lips against yours, pinning you against the wall, her tongue gently pushing its way into your mouth as her arms move from your shoulders, across your arms and to your hands as she laces your fingers with hers. She moves her arms down to coil them around your waist and squeeze your body closer to hers as she continues kissing you.

Shortly after she pulls away and looks you in the eyes, nearly panting as much as you were with a piercing glitter in her aquamarine-like eyes. 

“Holy- aeons above… you were amazing!” She says excitedly, hugging you tightly. “Xipe I-“ she continues, still squeezing you. (Xipe is the harmony aeon) 

She laughs gently, a lot more excited about your performance than you are, and amused by your lack of words despite only giving you maybe a second to get out a sentence. 

“Robin… my stars…” You laugh back gently, wrapping your arms around her neck as they rest on her shoulders. 

“That was the worst scare I’ve ever gotten…” you tell her, catching your breath. It really wasn’t because of the performance this time, though. 

She hugs you tightly again before speaking. “You’re amazing.” She tells you gently, a playful and approving smile on her face. “Goodness me… I have so much I want to say…” She kisses your cheek then takes your hand, almost dragging you to your changing room as she continues to wear that same playful smile. 

“Robin, calm down.” You chuckle tiredly, walking in the door behind her and exhaustedly sitting down at your makeup stand. 

Robin walks up behind you and wraps her arms around your neck, resting her cheek on the top of your head. You lean back into her touch from the chair, your hands finding their way up to her forearms and resting there. She kisses the top of your head before backing up and swiveling your chair around, then cups your face and plants a kiss on your lips. 

“Don’t worry, I already locked the door.” She assures you, a look of desire in her eyes as she moves down your face, her hands mimicking the action, moving down to your waist and up your shirt. “If you’re still too exhausted, I can do all the work this time…” 

[cupcakewebkinz]

oh my god every time i open tumblr and see one of your fics my day becomes so much better like genuinely- idk wtf kind of dark magic u used for that one fic that Vee is a lil paranoid bean but she's terribly relatable and it felt like a personal attack (in a good way) lol. You are such an amazing writer to be able to convey such emotion to the reader holly molly- Many thanks for existing in this community 🙏

here's more cat hcs to express my gratitude once again...

Vee absolutely HATES whenever someone touches her tail. It's the thing that helps her keep her balance and without it she would be even more of a clumsy mess than she already is so she has been programmed to be extra protective of it for safety reasons. That being said, there have been a few incidents where a lil kid would manage to sneak up and pull her tail, and the only reason there hasn't been a "bite of '87: Vee edition" yet is because her handler has always been near and would pick up that murderous angry robot before something bad happened. After some headpats and love from her handler she would calm down ofc- I imagine her only trusting Shelly and Veronica to touch her tail freely. If someone steps on her tail accidentally though, she's going to be really pissed at the culprit for several hours even if she knows they didn't mean to- girlie has a really hard time letting go and moving on (but she's trying her best to get out of this mindset!!!) I feel like Shannon did such mistake once and let's just say Vee would angrily side eye her for the rest of the day, until Shelly talked her out of it lol. If Shelly ever stepped on her tail by accident though her dumbass would be like: "wife hates me?!... wife doesnt love me anymore?!" and be a sad and pathetic soggy mess until shelly showers her with hugs and kisses to apologise mmhmhgmhm

kinda unrelated, but i just imagined Vee chasing her own tail for fun whenever no-one is looking while writing this so imma include it here.

Here's a Shelly hc too cuz i love her. She seems like the type of gal that has cuteness aggression. If you let her hold a baby animal like let's say a baby chick for example, she would absolutely want to squeeze it out of love. Of course, she never harms anything because she knows her own strength. Vee? She would absolutely turn her into a tin can if she could. Whenever she sees her wife doing something she deems cute (which can be something as mundane as literally Vee looking in her way) it makes her want to grab her stupid tv face bite a chunk out of it. Im a firm believer that her love language is physical touch.

-cat vee anon

AGHGH HAI AGAIN CAT VEE ANONNN!!! *waves aggressively*

Honestly so many people seem to be so murdered emotionally from that fic man I am so sorry, I honestly used a bit of my own childhood experiences to help convey that feeling of anxiety because my dad USED TO BE, very strict and terrifying. I put that in caps as he got therapy and is so much better with my siblings- but it still helped translate that feeling of fucking up and getting in massive trouble for doing anything wrong into words. Honestly Shanon promising Vee to protect her at the end like that was inspired greatly by my own mom, who's one of my largest inspirations to be a writer. The more you know! (Also very glad you enjoyed it, and thank you so much for existing with me here! I love playing the game and messing with these dorks, and I love the community I've been forming around that love and passion for the game too. I genuinely hope I can keep making people happy here!! ♡)

Vee absolutely would be pissed at people stepping on her tail, especially her close friends. I'd love to imagine Glisten teasing her with it tho, like "Ohhhh Vee I'mma grab it, I'mma grab your tail~" and he teases her so much she kicks his knees in for it. Sorry I'm a sucker for Vee being Glisten's best friend, but seriously, he would tease the hell out of her for it. She doesn't bite him because she knows he'll beat her in a fight, but if she could she absolutely would rip him to shreds for it. Though he probably wouldn't do it often, even he knows Vee has limits and won't push them lol

Veronica would absolutely shove Vee into her jacket when she's pissed though, just like "no you're not plotting murder, that's my job you lil twerp" and hold her hostage in her coat until she calms down. She'd absolutely be hit at and have a big baby throwing a temper tantrum at first, but she'd calm down very quickly in her favorite spot. This especially was the case after Delilah told her to stop doing that- Veronica would never stop, it's what keeps Vee manageable during her hissy fits and anger filled tantrums, but she'd have to do it backstage so nobody notices. Vee secretly adores it, and eventually becomes pretty open about this being really comforting to her once Shanon snaps her out of her "I do everything wrong and I need to stop doing anything" phase.

Oh yeah definitely, if Shelly ever accidentally steps on thee most sensitive and important spot on her body, she's a sobbing disaster screaming that her wife hates her and that her life is ruined. She's a massive drama queen, I'm sure people could tell, she's a TV host after all, but Shelly would honestly be caught off guard by just HOW dramatic she is about this. She'd act like it's the end of the world, like nothing matters anymore, while Shelly's like "honey it was a mistake, calm down, you're okay". They obviously make up again afterwards but the most dramatic Vee will ever be is when she thinks everything is messed up, even when... Everything is completely fine and she just needs to calm down a bit. She calms down the fastest in snuggles, which leads to them usually being found cuddled on the couch together and Shelly reading a book to Vee after this mistake is made. Or they're watching a show on Shanon's no longer wall mounted tv. They definitely are cuddling until Vee calms though.

She would absolutely chase her tail during zoomies though, and she'd proudly show it off whenever she catches it. How does it get in her mouth? Delilah only knows! Nobody understands that robot... Not even Vee herself. I love imagining her looking like a proud puppy at it too like a puppy that just learned how to play fetch, she's such an idiot I LOVE HER-

Shelly absolutely would be like that, and absolutely would have 100% self control over said urges. She handles fragile fossils often, so she's gonna have a ton of practice with self control, so she's very gentle and sweet. Though the dinosaur urges still linger, she wants to give everything tight, loving hugs and bite them to leave a mark that they're hers, but she doesn't. Not unless you ask her too, she will bite if you want. Highly not recommended, she could easily bite off a finger. Her favorite things to do instead are hugging, scritching and cuddling with Vee instead, kisses are definitely a great choice too but she prefers maximum touch. However, I feel like Vee wouldn't know what her love language was so she'd be trying everything, and that's why Shelly often brings gifts for Vee actually. Gifts are like prizes, prizes remind Vee of happier days, Vee gets really happy. In the end, Vee likes giving gifts often as her way to show Shelly she cares and loves her, while Shelly gives Vee hugs, kisses and cuddles because that's how she likes sharing her love. That and, let's be honest, Vee is addicted to clinging to that silly fossil.

No injuries on Vee in the Caretaker Shanon au are from Shelly going feral unless stated otherwise 😂

As always, thanks for letting me ramble a bit Cat Vee Anon! Hope you're doing amazing and enjoying the Easter Event! Sorry this took a bit for me to reply to my sister and I were farming, we're desperate for Bassie. Send help. 💔

[illfoandillfie]

A Different Kind of Eduation: P Is For Pet Play (Chapter 13)

ADKoE MASTERLIST

Pairing: Professor!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: After being broken up with for not being kinky enough, Reader seeks out her professor to give her some private tutoring so she can win her boyfriend back.

Chapter Summary: Reader learns a few new tricks in Roger's latest lesson.

Warnings: Modern AU, smut (18+), slow burn romance, dom/sub dynamics, dom!roger and sub!reader, professor x student sex, dialogue heavy, role play, pet play, puppy play, training, holding, fingering, spanking, collar, butt plug, orgasm delay/cumming on command, a bit of degradation and humiliation

Words: 9951

A/N: I think writing is a winter sport for me. Which is part of why this chapter has been sitting at 85% finished for months. But, the weather is finally cooling down here in Aus and this chapter is finally done! I'm excited for ya'll to read it. Hopefully I've edited it enough lmao

(Also, apologies for any formatting weirdness, it's because tumblr now has rules about how many characters can be used before you have to put in a line break or whatever, so I had to go through and break up some paragraphs into smaller sections. It should still be okay but all my fics are also available over on Ao3 if you wanna read them that way)

As always *** indicates the smut scene.

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave@scorpiogemini

@80s-roger @libsterslobsters @okilover02 @cjand10 @dealorgirl32 @youngpastafanmug @onceuponadetectivedemigod @zeida @demo-wise @yuillfandomqueen @tie-ur-mother-down @rogermyreligion​ 

(idk how many of you are still interested in this fic so if you want your name taken off let me know, or if anyone wants to be added i can also do that)

“Don’t you look professional,” Roger had teased, handing you a rather large glass of water in lieu of the wine you’d usually have, as you got settled in the study. You’d gone to his straight from work, so were a little more business casual than what he usually saw you wearing. The break from routine threw you off a little but mostly because you were too early for dinner so went straight to the study for your extra lesson. And you quickly got over it.

“So, pet play,” you’d said once you were settled, prompting Roger to start. “We touched on the basics last time,” he slipped easily into his teacher mode, seeming totally unphased by the change to routine, “but was there anything else you wanted to know?” You thought for a moment, “I guess I’m not totally clear on why people do it. And, like, you said it wasn’t always about having sex? I don’t really get how a scene with an animal can lead to sex but then also kink without sex sounds paradoxical.” “Very reasonable questions.” Roger tapped his whiteboard marker against his palm as he decided where to begin, “Last week I said that there were any number of reasons people might be drawn to role play and that includes pet play. Different people like it for different reasons. But I suspect thats not really what you were asking about.” You hummed and nodded your head, “Yeah, I guess my big question is why animals? Why don’t just do the naughty nurse thing or whatever.”

“Look, pet play isn’t something I am incredibly familiar with, certainly not when you compare it to other aspects of BDSM, so I can’t pretend to be an expert and I can really only speculate on some reasons people might be drawn to it. From what I’ve seen of it and the people I know who dabble in it, I think pet play offers an element of creativity that some other kinks don’t always seem to have. Creating your pet’s personality or even the costume you wear. Which isn’t to say roleplaying as anything else doesn’t also have those aspects, but I think for some people working out how to act like an animal can be more of a creative challenge or something more long term than your typical role play concepts. A person sinking money into animal inspired fetish gear is going to be inclined to revisit the role play multiple times, expanding on it, experimenting with it. But really, I think for most people, it’s not inherently about the animal, per se, but the animal opens up opportunities for exploration that other role plays may not. We established last week that part of what may draw people to role play is acting like someone else. You can be more demanding, or more sultry, or more adventurous than you regularly feel. Pet play just pushes that idea a bit further. Depending on the animal you choose and their temperament, it might be as far from you as you can possibly get.”

“Mmmm,okay,” “I know it seems a little contradictory to say it’s not about the animal while trying to explain why other role plays may not appeal the same way.” “Just a bit,” “It is important to keep that in mind though, especially while we discuss how pet play can be incorporated into a sexual dynamic. It’s not acting out bestiality. It’s about roles – someone being in control of someone else in a concrete ownership way – and it's about scenarios that connect with the chosen pet. The way people who take on a canine persona act will likely be vastly different from those that take on an equine persona. And the scenes they choose to play out will in all likelihood be quite different too. For instance, a pony play scene might be physically demanding to simulate a racing experience – being ridden, using a crop, that sort of thing – or it might be an exploration of breeding through a scenario where the horse is put out to stud, or, for those who are more into a show horse type aspect, it might be more about dressing up in costumes – masks and hoof mitts or leather bodysuits - and being shown off at live kink events, maybe even performing a dressage inspire routine.” “Sorry, hoof mitts?” “A type of bondage gear, not always used for pet play. Basically, they’re something submissives can wear over their hands or arms as a type of restraint. They make it impossible to hold or grab things and sometimes they can represent animal paws or hoofs.” “Jesus, alright.” Roger chuckled, “We really are only scratching the surface with these lessons. Anyway, another example, cow play also known by the term HuCow, a portmantau of human and cow. Any guesses what that might entail?” “If you say milking,” “Ding ding ding, we have a winner,” “No way,” you snorted.

Roger shrugged, “It’s not a crazy as it sounds. Lactation fetishes aren’t all that rare, which probably says something about the way breasts are viewed and sexualised but that’s a discussion for another time. But also, it doesn’t have to involve actual lactation, it could just be about squeezing the breasts or even “milking” a penis until it ejaculates. HuCow scenes can tick a number of boxes for people. Those with breast or pec fetishes might like it for the emphasis it can put on that part of the body. There is, like with pony play, a potential for exploring a breeding kink, both as a cow or a bull. You can also get into some gender based kinks like forced feminsation and the like. A male identifying person could be made to act as a female cow, maybe dress in a cow print bikini and have their nipples stimulated as if they were being milked.” “Huh. Okay, that’s very specific. I guess I can see why some animal role plays might appeal to people more than other ones would. So, if we did do something with pet play, would you um, like me to be a, a cow?” “If you were drawn to the idea, I’d be happy to explore that with you. But I was thinking something more along the lines of puppy play.” “So no milking?” you teased, hoping to cut through some of your awkwardness with humour.

Roger smiled, “No milking, no. The first thing that came to mind was a training type scene. It’s fairly classic in the world of puppy play but with good reason. Training is a big part of owning a puppy, reinforcing desired behaviours, teaching them what behaviour is acceptable, teaching them tricks. But training can also be part of many other kinks and sexual dynamic. Sometimes it’s intentional training, sometimes more subconscious in just aiming to handle more intense sensations or to explore wider within a preferred kink. Impact play fans might train to be able to enjoy being struck with a crop instead of just a paddle. Someone might do throat training to be able to deep throat more comfortably. A dom might train a submissive to say thank you after a spanking or to ask permission to cum before each orgasm. We’ve done some light anal training in that I gave you a plug and you wore it to help adjust to the sensation and so you could take me better that way. It’d be my hope that, if you were inclined to try it, a scene about training might be easier to enjoy than something more out there like milking. You don’t have to respond yet,” Roger hastened to add, “I still want to answer your second question before we even think about prac.”

You were relieved Roger didn’t require an immediate answer and that he hadn’t forgotten your initial questions because you weren’t sure you could make a decision without knowing more. But you supposed you could also see the logic in his idea and, the way he’d explained it, training didn’t seem as scary as some of the other things he’d mentioned.

“So the second part of your question is a little more complex.” He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, “You were curious how pet play can lead to sex when one person is acting like a literal animal. The answer is, the same way any other kink can lead to sex. Remember, it’s not about the animal, it’s about the dynamics. Playing as owner and pet is often just a variation of dom and sub – there's the power element, control, the stuff we’ve talked about in nearly every lesson. And, like I said before, the person taking on the pet role is probably also taking on a different personality than normal so that can contribute to the sex. But a large part of the kink community, I would even hazard a guess that it’s the majority, would tell you that any kink can also be fun when there’s no sex involved. With pet play specifically, it’s a fun excuse to dress up, to play, or curl up with someone you care about and have a nap. It can be comforting to feel as if someone owns you when you wear a collar for them. There is tenderness in having your hair brushed and being petted, feeling looked after and cared for. Pet play can just be a different way to express affection for someone.” “Not gonna lie, that sounds kinda nice.” “It really is. That doesn’t just go for pet play either. It is entirely possible to be in a kinky partnership with someone and never have sex. You will find that every single kink we have covered, someone out there enjoys it in a non-sexual way. Bondage, impact play, sensation play, you name it. Though, of course, different people define sex differently and have different boundaries around it. Go to enough kink events and munches and you realise how wide the spectrums for these sorts of things are.”

“So like, they’ll just be tied up and not fuck?” Roger chuckled, “Yeah, sometimes it really is just about the sensations and emotions involved in being restrained. If you continue to explore kinks after, uh, well after we complete this course, you may find that kinks you considered challenging or uncomfortable become more enjoyable when penetrative sex, or any sexual touch at all, isn’t part of it. It’s just about experimenting and figuring out what you enjoy and then defining those boundaries.” You felt a little sad at the reminder that your tutoring would eventually stop but tried not to show it too much. You figured that, as much as Roger might say he enjoyed teaching you, he was probably also at least somewhat looking forward to their end, just to be done with the risks to his teaching position if nothing else.

“Now, not to completely undercut that idea,” Roger said, pulling your attention back to his lesson, “but, if you are curious and okay with trying pet play, I was intending on steering it in a more sexual direction. That is the core point of these lessons after all, to learn about kink and how to safely incorporate it into sex. Of course, it’s helpful to keep in mind that what I’m teaching you isn’t the only way to enjoy these kinks and that enjoying being spanked or called names or engaging in role play doesn’t require an enjoyment of any sort of sex; but sex is kind of what we’re here for.” “So what are you thinking then?” “I’ve already suggested puppy play but did you have any other ideas yourself? I don’t want to tell you what pet to be if there's an idea that interested you or something you’re more drawn to. Role playing as a pet might feel a bit different to role playing as my groupie, and I’d prefer you to be comfortable with the selection than just to do what I want.”

“I don’t know, um, I guess my only thought was just not a cow.” You gave a little shrug, feeling pleased when Roger laughed, “If you think puppy play is a good staring point for me, then I’m happy to go with that. How exactly would it lead to sex though? I’m still not sure I understand that part of pet play.” Roger hummed in thought, “I think obedience and training is a very easy way to incorporate sex into a puppy play scene. I can reward you with physical touch when you obey my orders, or punish you if you don’t. Remember, you’re not being a dog you’re taking on personality traits and actions that align with behaviour common to dogs, but you’re a consenting adult who likes being spanked, so, if you want that tonight, I can do it.” “I want it,” you said with an eager nod, the thought alone enough to make you squirm a little in your seat. Roger smiled, “Okay, good. So rewards and punishments can be an easy way to incorporate sex and other kinks. In addition to that though, I can order you to touch me, or to position yourself in particular ways with the intention of turning us both on. I can tell you to behave in ways that will make you feel humiliated or demeaned, which we both know you get off on, or incorporate degrading nicknames that feel thematically relevant, like calling you a bitch instead of a whore. Even just the act of being bossed around will probably contribute. And they don’t call it doggy style for nothing do they.”

You realised you were biting your lip, “I like the sound of that.” “I thought you might. Now there are a couple things to go over before we start, just so we’re both on the same page and know what to expect and what’s okay. Let me know if something doesn’t feel comfortable or doesn’t sound enjoyable okay?” You nodded expectantly, curious to hear what else Roger had in mind. “Now, while my intention is for this to involve sex, I do also understand how out of your comfort zone a lot of this is, so I’d want to ease you into it a bit and not focus on sex straight away. Um, I’m thinking that you’d be in just your underwear to start.” “Sounds pretty sexy,” you joked. Roger shook his head but he was clearly amused, “I never said it wouldn’t be sexy, just that it wouldn’t focus on sex right away. In addition though, and only if you’re comfortable with it, I have a collar with a lead that you can wear.”

You stomach flipped at the idea “Oh, um, a collar? Like a dog collar?” “Well, it looks sort of similar to one a actual dog might wear but it is definitely made for a human. I did mention collaring very, very briefly when we were looking at bondage. They can represent a few things but one of the more common reasons behind collaring a submissive is as a symbol of ownership. Not necessarily in a master/slave way, though of course it can be. But if the sub wore a collar to a kink event it would be a very clear signal that that person already has a dominant. And in private it can be a signal that they are still okay with submitting to their dom, that they’re willing to follow orders or participate in a scene.” “Could I maybe try it on first, see how it feels before I decide?” “Absolutely, when we’re done here I’ll get it for you. I’d have some specific expectations too around what you are and aren’t allowed to do, things that could contribute to punishments and rewards. Obviously obedience is a major part of this so my expectation is that if I order you to do something, you will do it. Of course, if something is way beyond what you feel comfortable with you can say your safe word,” “Pizzazz,” you said at his pause. “Very good, you can say pizzazz and we’ll stop. We can stop for good if you want or we can just use it as a pause in the scene to check in with each other and adjust things. Does that sound okay?” “Mmhmm, yeah, definitely.”

“Good. My other expectation is that you answer to puppy and pup. I may also use your name during the scene but I may decide to just call you pup, we’ll see how it feels in the moment. And in addition to that, I want you to respond accordingly to good girl or bad girl. Now, dogs can’t speak so I don’t expect to hear much talking from you unless I ask you a question and prompt you to answer with words, or of course if you want to safe word. You can make sounds though, whatever feels natural in the moment. If you feel like barking or whatever, go for it, but if that feels too weird don’t worry.” He gave you a reassuring smile, “Umm, anything else? Oh, yeah, uh, dogs also can’t walk on two legs,” he laughed a little, “So, I would also suggest that you crawl around on all fours. And if I ask you to fetch something you should carry it in your mouth where possible. Does that seem reasonable?” You readily agreed. Though the idea of crawling around hadn’t occurred to you initially, it made sense and you reasoned that being on the ground would probably contribute to feeling more puppy-ish, or at least more submissive.

“One final thing, and this is definitely not mandatory but I figured you might be into it. Do you want to wear a tail?” Your mind jumped straight to the box of dress up items your kindergarten class had had including dinosaur tails you could tie around your waist. Surely Roger had to mean something else, “Uhh, a tail?” Roger held up a finger, signalling you to sit tight, while he ducked out of the room. When he came back he held up a butt plug that, instead of tapering into the traditional shape on the outside end, was instead decorated with a fluffy tail. “These aren’t always used with pet play and there’s a few different varieties. Technically I think this one is meant to be a fox tail, but I only thought of it a few days ago so my options were limited. You can definitely get ones that aren’t so fluffy, ones shaped more like a cat or dog tail that are thinner, firmer. There are little fluff ball bunny tails, horse tails, you name it there's probably a plug out there. The question is, do you want to wear it?” Your decision came quickly, “I’ll wear it.” and then when Roger raised his eyebrows as if asking if you’d really thought it through you added, “I think it’s cute. And I think wearing a plug will help make me hornier which will help me get into the scene more.”

“Alright then,” Roger smiled, handing the plug over, “I also brought the collar over, if you wanted to have a look at it too before we start.” You nodded, though it made you much more nervous than the tail had, and gingerly took it from Roger. The leather was smooth and cool to the touch but the inside was lined with a softer material that you assumed was for the wearers comfort. It had a simple buckle clasp, much like a regular pet collar, and a heart shaped charm dangling from it where a name tag would be on a real dog collar. “Can you help me put it on?” Roger nodded moving behind you to buckle it around your throat. He was gentle, carefully fitting it and checking that it wasn’t too tight both verbally and by slipping two fingers under the collar, before he finally fastened it in place. You reached up to feel the soft leather, tilting your head in both directions as you adjusted to the sensation of it. Your fingers slipped down to the heart charm, the metal cool against your skin, and you felt your own heart quicken a little. You put it down to a few nerves now that you were on the verge of trying pet play, though you couldn’t totally forget what he’d said about ownership. Belonging to Roger didn’t sound too bad.

“What do you think of it?” “I don’t mind it. It’s not as uncomfortable as I guess I thought it might be. I guess I probably wouldn’t want to wear it all the time but for a specific scene I think I’m okay with it.” “Does that mean you’re interested in trying a pet play scene?” “Might as well,” you laughed. You knew he was checking for good reason, that he was just trying to be safe, but it was tempting to remind him you’d not once backed out of a practical lesson, “I don’t necessarily think it’ll be super my thing but I am curious enough to try it out.” “Alright, sounds good. Why don’t you go to the bathroom and get ready then, there's lube in the cabinet over the sink. Just give me a shout when you’re good to go.” You nodded, feeling surprisingly calm, and collected the tail from where you’d set it aside on the desk.

It took you a little while to get ready – a few minutes to compose yourself once you were alone, the idea of acting like a dog suddenly sounding much more ridiculous than Roger had made it sound, and then of course there was the plug to sort out. The collar was a slight distraction too. Not because it was uncomfortable or difficult to wear, though you couldn’t exactly forget it was there either. But the sight of it in the mirror would make you stop, your fingers rising to run over the leather. You were kind of amazed that it didn’t feel worse. You’d also dithered about for longer than you might have needed to, trying to decide if you should leave your bra on or discard it since you’d had to forgo your knickers to wear the tail. Roger would probably appreciate it, if not prefer it, if you were totally naked. But then again, the bra would keep your boobs in place which was probably preferable while you were crawling around on all fours. In the end, you kept the bra on though you’d first asked Roger his preference when he met you at the bathroom door. “It’s up to you,” Roger had said patiently, “although, I think I’m much more likely to cum prematurely and ruin my pants if you’re totally naked. Going to have a hard enough time as is.” He’d dropped his eyes deliberately to your cunt and you’d shifted where you stood, knowing he’d know if you squeezed your thighs together but tempted to do it all the same.

He let his gaze linger on your lower half, as if daring you, before he finally tore his eyes away, “Are you ready?” “Yeah,” you nodded, “I think so.” “Okay, then on the ground for me.” You lowered yourself to your knees right there in the hallway, and then to your hands. The carpet was a little rough against your knees and palms, the tail tickling the back of your thighs, but it was easy following Roger’s instructions and you waited for the next one, hoping he’d keep making it easy for you. “Good girl.” He leaned over you as he said it, a soft metallic sound drawing your attention though you kept as still as you could. “Time for walkies,” he announced as he straightened, “Go on pet.” You crawled down the corridor, your heart thumping as you realised just what a view you were giving Roger as he fell into step behind you. You weren’t sure where exactly Roger expected you to go but made an educated guess it would be the bedroom since that was where you usually ended up. It was open when you reached it which you figured meant you were right, however, before you could enter you felt the collar being tugged from behind and Roger tutted, making you stop. A leash was clutched in his hand when you turned to look. “Not in there pet. The lounge,” You nodded, readjusted your direction and set off again, practically able to feel Roger’s eyes on your arse and wondering if the tail was hiding much from view.

When you crawled through the doorway of the lounge, you were pleased to find Roger had spent his time getting the room ready. The coffee table had been dragged aside, pushed up against the wall so it wouldn’t be in the way, and the curtains had all been drawn so there was no chance of any nosey neighbours seeing anything, a couple of lamps softly lighting the room instead. But that wasn’t all he’d prepared. “You wanna play pup? Go get your ball,” Roger pointed towards the far side of the room where a fuzzy tennis ball sat on the floor, as he took a seat on the couch. You obediently crawled around the couch to the ball, lowering your head to pick it up with your teeth. But you paused a few inches from it.

“Uh, woof?” you said, feeling rather self-conscious, but wanting to get Roger’s attention. You succeeded, which you could tell by the way he was stifling a laugh, “Yes?” “This ball hasn’t been anywhere near a real dog, right?” Roger shook his head, “Brand new. I’m not that sadistic.” “Just checking,” you smiled, before picking the ball up between your teeth. You hadn’t experimented with gags in any of your lessons with Roger, at least not yet, but you had to imagine wearing a ball gag would feel similar to carrying this tennis ball like you were. It forced you to keep your mouth open, made it difficult to swallow which meant you could feel yourself getting drooly as you crawled back towards Roger. He held out his hand and you dropped the ball into it, finding it difficult to ignore how being on the ground put you closer to his cock. It was a small step from noticing that to realising Roger was beginning to stiffen, and then to realise he was probably at least partly aroused from seeing you drooling with a stuffed mouth and naturally you couldn’t help but wonder if he intended to use your mouth at all.

“Good girl,” Roger cooed, no idea what was going on through your head, as he reached out with his free hand to stroke your hair like he was patting a dog. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, the praise making you feel warm and pleased and eager to earn more, although your instant reaction to Roger’s positive reinforcement made you think maybe he’d had a point when he suggested puppy play. You were turning into Pavlov’s bloody dog, getting aroused whenever Roger praised you. “Alright, pup, you ready to learn some tricks?” You gave an affirmative hum, hoping he’d find it an acceptable response and not demand you bark instead. Thankfully he seemed fine with any non-verbal response because he smiled and moved toward the centre of the room, dropping down to his knees, “Here girl.” At a click of Roger’s fingers you crawled over to join him, earning another good girl but this time the praise was accompanied by his touch. His fingers dipping between your legs to rub your exposed cunt.

“I’m glad you chose the tail over your knickers,” he said softly, “Think you might be too,” he added as he drew his fingers away, the tips glistening with your slick. You whined in response and nodded. Roger gave you a wink and then he was back to business, “Alright pup, we’re going to learn a few tricks today. Let’s start with an easy one, sit.” You weren’t a hundred percent sure what Roger wanted but you thought the most likely option was to rest back against your heels. “So close, pet,” Roger cooed, his hands firm on your knees as he directed you to open them, “Gotta keep your legs spread so I can reward you properly. Let’s try again, all fours now.” You felt a little annoyed at yourself for not realising, and hurried to obey him, eager to show you could get it right.

“Sit,” You sat back again, your arse against your heels, the plug being pressed firmly into you, your knees open. Roger took full advantage of your position, his fingers slipping between your pussy lips as he praised you again, drawing a soft moan from you. The sound of pleasure seemed to be Roger’s signal to withdraw his fingers, “Time to learn another trick, pup. When I tell you to beg I want you to sit just like this but put your paws up,” He physically directed you as his spoke, positioning your hands at chest height, elbows bent, fingers curved over your palms. “And whine so I know you need something.” You felt a little silly but whining wasn’t too hard since you did want him to keep touching you. “Such a smart puppy girl,” Roger said as he rewarded you again, each stroke of his fingers making you more eager to have him inside you. “Right, we’re gonna learn another trick now. Lay down.” You bit back a disappointed groan as he removed his touch again, and did as you assumed he wanted, stretching out on your front.

“Roll over,” Perhaps the increasing horniness was hindering your thought process because for a moment you didn’t understand what Roger meant. Did he want you to roll across the floor to the other side of the room? How would that be arousing for him? The whole situation seemed suddenly ridiculous and you forgot you weren’t meant to speak, “Really?” “Pup,” Roger’s tone was warning, “Do what I say now. Roll over.” “Sorry Sir,” you hurried to say as you prepared to roll yourself across the room until he told you to stop, still not sure why he’d be turned on by such a thing but willing to find out. But a full 360-degree turn was not what Roger had in mind. He stopped you once you were on your back, his eyes raking over your bra clad chest and then down to your bare cunt. You felt yourself blushing, partly from how he was staring and partly because you felt silly for thinking he’d jack off to you literally rolling around. Turning onto your back made much more sense.

Roger shuffled a little closer on his knees, “When I say roll over, this is what I want to see. But next time I expect you to put your arms and legs up too.” Once again he directed you as he explained, guiding your limbs into the air, knees and elbows bent. “This way I can see everything I own.” He gently parted your knees a little further so he could easily stoke between them, toying with your clit. “I can properly reward you for following my orders. Or punish you for speaking out of turn.” You yelped as he suddenly spanked your pussy but he was quick to sooth the pain, or at least distract you from it as his fingers dipped into your entrance. You moaned, willing Roger to press deeper, to give you more, catching yourself right before you’d added his name and a potentially pathetic, “please”.  Begging would only work if you kept your words to yourself. But at that moment Roger seemed inclined to reward you, his other hand coming up to rub your clit again as he started working his fingers further into you.

His paused again as his phone began to ring from where he’d left it forgotten on the couch. He rolled his eyes, “ignore it, it can go to voicemail.” You nodded, trying to block out the ringtone and focus on how Roger was touching you, his fingers pressing deeper and faster as if he were trying to make up for the annoyance of the phone. "Finally” Roger muttered under his breath as the call rang out and the phone fell silent. His fingers were still plunging into you, stroking you just right, pushing you closer to release. Your moan broke off in a disappointed squeak as Roger unexpectedly withdrew his hand, his mobile sounding once more. “Jesus,” he sighed exasperatedly as he shuffled on his knees until the still trilling phone was within reach, hastening to deny the call. “Right, where were we?” his voice softened slightly as he turned back to you but a moment later he was swearing as his landline began to ring. You sighed and let your limbs drop to the floor, craning your neck to look at Roger upside down, “Maybe you should take that.” “I should’ve taken the bloody thing off the hook,” he rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Alright pup, sit.” You dutifully scampered back to your knees, taking up the position he’d taught you. “Stay.” You smiled in acknowledgment, a little amused he was continuing with the role play.

Waiting was easier said than done.  Roger’s home phone was corded but the distance from where it hung to the doorway of the lounge was close enough that he could remain on the line whist he paced into your field of view and then back out. You caught snippets of the conversation – heard him apologise for missing the call and that he had company – and tried to work out who had called. “Mmhmm,” Roger hummed as he moved back into the doorway, “Well look now's not really a great time for m-. No, of course not.” Roger rolled his eyes and then threw you an apologetic glance.  You smiled back, his constant walking making you too wary to move from your position. He’d told you to sit and stay after all, he’d definitely notice if you rearranged yourself. But the longer the phone call went on, the more uncomfortable you became. Your knees grew stiff and you had to wiggle around to keep from getting pins and needles. Without Roger there egging you on, keeping you in the moment, stimulating you, the whole puppy thing started to feel even more silly than it had at the start. You couldn’t deny you were wet (it was hard to ignore) but you felt that was probably more to do with Roger than the scene itself. Although, perhaps you weren’t being totally fair in your judgement due to your current rising discomfort. You pondered the lesson so far, trying to work out how exactly you felt about pet play and how it was Roger could so affect you, trying to subtly shift yourself without being noticed. The tail plug was much closer to the forefront of your mind now, firm on one end and tickling you from the other and you were starting to feel a little chilly, close to naked as you were, but worst of all was the sudden realisation you needed to pee.

When Roger next crossed in front of the doorway you waved to get his attention and tried to tell him you were going to the bathroom with a lot of pointing. He didn’t seem to understand but he did seem amused, leaning in the doorway and holding up a palm to signal you to stay. You frowned and whined softly. Roger smirked as he said, “oh, I totally understand,” to whoever had called. He seemed to enjoy tormenting you because he stayed there, watching as you squirmed, and you were sure he was letting the conversation go on unnecessarily. At first you tried to beat him at his own game, attempting to ignore your growing need, but that just made you think about it more. You whined in desperation, louder than you’d meant to. As soon as you realised that Roger had heard the sound your attention snapped back to him. He chuckled into the reciever, “Nah, I’m dog sitting at the moment. No, no, I can see her from here, she's fine.”

It was mortifying to think someone else had heard you and you blushed as you pouted at Roger, but he seemed more amused than moved as he revealed he still had the tennis ball and rolled it towards you. At first you just let it sit where it had come to a stop near your knee but Roger clicked his finger and pointed at it. With a sigh you bent over, shuffling back a little so you could pick it up with your mouth again. Roger hummed into the receiver before mouthing a clear, “good girl,” at you. Unsure what exactly Roger wanted, you tentatively made to crawl towards him, but he stopped you with a raised palm. It seemed he wanted you to just sit there and wait, feeling yourself beginning to drool from the ball in your mouth, but unable to forget your bladder despite your arousal. Finally it became too much and you steeled yourself to beg for permission.

At first you stayed quiet, raising your hands to the position Roger had shown you, adjusting your posture so your back was straight and your chest was pushed towards him in the hopes it’d help persuade. Roger just looked at you expectantly and you realised he wanted you proper humiliated. Squeezing your eyes shut you whined into the tennis ball still between your lips. It took another louder whine before Roger became convinced. “Hold on one sec, I think she needs to go outside.” If you hadn’t been so embarrassed and distracted you’d have given Roger credit for doing such a remarkable job sounding natural when there was so much laughter in his eyes. He disappeared for a second as he placed the phone down, returning with a snort. “It’s not funny,” you pouted, holding the tennis ball out to Roger. “It is a bit,” but he took the ball from you, “What are you begging for?” “I need to go to the bathroom.” “Ask me again if you can go.” “Can I go?” Roger casually threw the ball to himself, “Dog’s can’t talk. Ask me properly.”

Silently cursing Roger, you let out another whine, trying to make it sound pathetic and desperate. “Doesn’t sound like you need it that badly. Maybe I should make you hold it until I’m through with my phone call.” You whimpered at the thought and raised yourself a little higher on your knees, hoping Roger would be open to some bargaining. He was standing close enough that you only had to shuffle forward a little to be able to rub your face along the front of his pants, whining and whimpering and pausing every now and again to look up at Roger and check he was understanding. If his arousal had diminished during the break, it was quickly returning. You could feel him as you mouthed around his fly, licking and panting against his hidden length. “Oh she is desperate.” He teased, crossing his arms over his chest (which you assumed was to stop himself from grabbing you). “She must be if she’s offering to suck me off.” You nodded, sucking on some of the fabric near his tip. Roger hummed, “I do love putting my cock in your mouth. Unfortunately,” he stepped back, “I have a call to finish up. I want you back here and sitting like a good girl by the time I’m done.” “Thank you thank you thank you,” You scrambled to your feet, pausing just long enough to kiss Roger’s cheek before you hurried past him to the bathroom. “Sorry that took so long,” you heard him say as he picked up the phone again, “Continue.”

When you returned to the lounge, bladder in a much more comfortable state, Roger had taken a seat on the couch and was looking at his mobile. “That was so mean!” you said, moving towards him and perching yourself on the arm of the chair, very aware you still wore the tail plug. Roger laughed, “But you were such a good girl. And I like hearing you whine.” “Should make you hold it, see how whiney you get.” You immediately realised what you’d said and felt your face warm. But Roger seemed flustered too. There was a definite flush on his cheeks when he said, “We both know I’d be into it,” that made the statement all the more sincere and not at all the deflection he was aiming for.

“So would you also be a puppy? Or a different animal?” You asked, your curiosity beating out your embarrassment. “Roger thought for the moment, “I think I prefer being a cat. I like to be pampered.” You giggled and, without thinking, reached out to scratch the top of his head like you’d scratch behind a cat’s ear. Roger leaned into your touch. “And, um,” you didn’t know what to do next and tried to cover the awkwardness with a question, “what would you differently as a kitten compared to a puppy?” “Well,” Roger shifted his hips, “a lot of the basics are similar – with both of them you can have the pet drink water from a bowl or play with toys. With a kitten I’d expect grooming to be part of it, like brushing my hair. If I wanted to still be more dominant whilst being kitteny, I might stalk you around the house and pounce on you. But usually if I’m acting as the pet I prefer to be on the subbier side, just being petted and pampered... maybe encouraged to lick my owner.” You felt even more embarrassed at the hints about oral but the thought did cross your mind that perhaps you would enjoy such an act more if it was occurring at your command. Doing it because you felt it was expected or simply to please a lover felt embarrassing and awkward but if you felt in control of it maybe it would be easier to enjoy the sensations. Roger had proven you could enjoy it if certain conditions were met, perhaps being blind folded and dommed wasn’t the only way.

*****

It was only then you realised your hand was still in Roger’s hair, absentmindedly playing with it, and your thoughts switched from how it might feel to order him to go down on you to what other parts of him you could be petting and stroking. Roger was watching you as closely as he could, enjoying the sensation of your fingers in his hair, but whatever was going through his own mind he kept to himself. However his rapidly stiffening cock gave him away a little. You withdrew your hand suddenly which seemed to be a signal for Roger to get the lesson back on track. “And what about my puppy? Are you still okay with it?” You nodded, “Yeah, lets keep going.”

“Alright, well I really should punish you for getting back here late. You were meant to be done before my phone call finished.” “That’s unfair,” “No, that’s the rules. But maybe you can convince me you’re still a good girl. On the floor, now.” You quickly dropped to your hands and knees, as eager to prove yourself as you were to distract yourself from the weird moment you’d just shared. “Alright, lets see how much you remember. Sit.” You quickly moved into position. “Beg.” You put your hands up and made a small whimpery whine. “Roll over. Good girl.” Each time you followed an order Roger had rewarded you with some brief touch- squeezing your breasts through your bra, letting his fingertips trail seductively along your body, teasing your clit, but it never lasted long enough. “Clever pup,” Roger’s voice was low and gravelly, “back to all fours.”

You were a little surprised, even a little put out that, that he’d not climbed over you, not taken his cock out of his pants, not made any move to fuck you. Thankfully he decided it was a good time to move things along, standing up so you got a good view of just how aroused he was, and moving to kneel behind you. It meant he could better feel you up, able to reach the parts he wanted to touch most with greater ease, his fingers firmer than they had been before. You became a little breathless, the combination of the series of tricks he’d had you perform with how his fingers felt running over and between your pussy lips. Your breathing came harder and before you knew it, you were panting in anticipation, your tongue sticking out over your bottom lip. “Fucking hell,” Roger said softly, “Okay pup, show me just how horny you are,” he pushed lightly between your shoulders, guiding you to lower your chest and raise your hips, presenting your arse and cunt to him. He still wasn’t in a particular rush though, opting to tease you a little more first. Roger started by stroking the tail you wore and making the plug shift within you before reaching for your cunt again. “Someone enjoyed being my pet, didn’t they pup?” You whined and nodded against the floor, trying to push back against Roger’s fingers.

He chuckled at how eager you were and allowed two fingers to slip inside you, working them in and out until he could comfortably fit a third. You moaned as he stretched you, trying to help by rocking back against his fingers as much as he would allow. It was distracting enough that you nearly missed the sound of Roger’s zip coming down as he hurried to get himself ready with his free hand. “Been such a good girl,” he grunted as he one handedly worked his pants down a little further, “Gonna get a very big reward.” You whimpered as his fingers left you, but you knew they’d soon be replaced by something even better though waiting for it was almost torture, especially when Roger used the slick you’d left on his hand to lube his cock. Thankfully he was more interested in fucking you than toying with you any longer and he only stroked himself a couple of times before he began to sink into you. Your breath hitched as his head pressed into you but it was quickly followed by a moan, echoed by Roger as he sank into your warmth.

He went slow to start, carefully pulling partway out and easing himself back in, testing to make sure you were wet enough that he could move comfortably. He grunted as he sank deeper, “Take me so well, sweetheart. Must really love feeling owned with how fucking wet you are.” You shivered as Roger leaned forward, his gravelly voice getting closer as his cock seemed to push even deeper, the sensations all capped off with a sudden sharp pinch as he lowered his head and bit a spot on your side. It made you yelp, more from surprise than anything else, but you felt yourself clench around his length too. When he straitened up again he was chuckling, “Oh pup, you make it so easy for me.” His hands slipped back to your waist, one gently caressing your arse as he moved the tail aside, and gave a quick tug, pulling you into him.

Your breath hitched as he suddenly completely filled you, but he barely gave you time to remember how to breathe before he pressed in again. The temperate test thrusts Roger had given became quick and hard as if his eagerness to have you had won out over his self-restraint from moments before. “Oh fu-u-u-ck,” you moaned, voice jolting as his cock filled you again and again, a rapid pace you had no hope of matching. Your arse suddenly stung as Roger lay a loud slap that made you squeal. “No talking, remember. Still my pup.” You whimpered as he gave you another slap to drive the point home. “Just my horny bitch,” he grunted, “Who practically goes into heat whenever she sees me.” A third slap was swiftly followed by a rough thrust, making you whine and then moan. For a moment Roger shifted all his efforts into his hips, making you squeal with each hard stroke of his cock,  but then he eased off and another string of slaps landed against you. He made it clear that the spanks were for being late as well as speaking out of turn, which only seemed fair when they felt so good. And then, once he was satisfied, he focused once again on fucking you senseless.

At first you were worried you’d slip up again, accidentally say a word instead of keeping your vocalisations to simple noises of pleasure, and in doing so bring forth another run of spanks that would make you clench but delay the orgasm you wanted. But it quickly ceased to be a factor. Between Roger’s cock filling you just right and him giving a new order to rub your clit, it was nearly impossible to even think of a real word let along get your mouth to form them. Even when he slowed his thrusts down again you were in little danger of saying anything comprehensible. That was when he decided to put the tail plug to a more specific use than just decoration, spitting on your arsehole so he could fuck you with it. Really all you could do was take what he was giving, whining and moaning, and eventually cum. He did make you work for it though, panting as he told you to wait for permission. You’d never been made to wait for it before, at least not in this way, and you let your fingers slow their motions around your clit, afraid of hitting your release too fast. But the barrage of stimulation from the plug and Roger’s cock were enough to get you close. You squeezed your eyes shut and whimpered loudly, hoping Roger would understand what it meant.

“Cum, pet” You couldn’t do it immediately but you hastily worked your fingers over your clit again, so close but not quite tipping over the edge. You jolted with another spank, “I told you to cum.” Roger’s voice was low, a little breathless but entirely in control. You whined, as you tried to do what he wanted, though your fingers felt stiff and clumsy. There was another spank and then Roger pressed the plug into you, holding it down as he rammed his cock deep. Perhaps it was the shock of both combined with your frantic rubbing, or maybe he just managed to hit the right spot at the right time, but you couldn’t help but tighten suddenly, moaning and shaking as you fell into your orgasm. “There you go,” he grunted, giving the plug a little jiggle to keep you stimulated as you came. You would have fallen limp if you’d been in another position, but Roger was still filling you and his grip was once again tight on your hips which kept your knees from giving out. Instead you just twitched from the aftershock, and whined when you felt him slowly pull back and sink in again. “Stay there, pup, I need to cum too.” The breath you’d only just begun to catch caught in your throat as Roger resumed fucking you, going neither as hard as he had or as slow as you might have liked. He didn’t bother with the plug though, focusing only on how your wet cunt felt around his cock. Thankfully it wasn’t long before he was holding himself deep, the grunts he’d made on each thrust giving way to moans as he came within you.

*****

“Good girl,” Roger said softly, tapping your thigh gently as he pulled out. He shuffled out from behind you, moving to your side as he tucked himself away, and then sat heavily down on the floor. You allowed yourself to sag too and, knees a little sore, lowered yourself onto your back. “Do you want a hand up?” “In a minute,” you sighed, the thought of getting up too much to contemplate immediately, “Have you got anything I can cover myself with?” “You mean you don’t want to lie naked on my living room floor?” Roger quipped, simultaneously reaching for a throw that was decorating the couch and then grabbing a cushion as well. You just laughed, tucking the cushion under your head, “Seems a bit unfair that you get to wear pants is all.” “Thats the perks of being the dom.” He tapped you teasingly with his foot, “How’d you find it all?” “It was interesting,” you thought for a moment before continuing, “I think it’s another kink that like wouldn’t be the first thing I would think of but isn’t a hard no either. Like, I think it’s probably the stupidest I’ve felt during one of our lessons...well maybe the queening beats it, but still, I felt like a fucking tit at first.” Roger laughed, “You got into it though.” “Yeah I did. And I definitely understand it better now, but it wasn’t my favourite.”

He hummed thoughtfully looking over at you with a soft expression you couldn’t quite pinpoint, “That’s similar to how I feel about pet play too. I can be into it with the right person and stuff, but it’s not a go to of mine.” You lay in a comfortable silence for a moment, considering things. Logically you knew Roger had favourite kinks and scenes he preferred over others, but it wasn’t something you’d properly thought of before. Maybe because he was so confident and capable at everything he’d taught you so far, it felt like all of them were his favourites. After a moment Roger interrupted your thoughts, “Hey, you okay? Not too overwhelmed?” “No, not at all, just thinking.” You pushed yourself onto your elbows to better see Roger, “Are you good?”

“I am,” Roger smiled, scooting a little closer. “Did you have any other questions regarding pet play? Anything you’re still curious about? “Uhhh, yeah I guess so, um,” you instantly felt awkward as you tried to phrase your question, “When you wanted me to, uh, finish when you told me to....what was that about?” Roger chuckled, “I s’pose I should have been ready for that question since we’ve not actually touched on it in a lesson. I guess it’s mostly closely related to orgasm delay or orgasm denial. Have you heard of them before?” “Maybe? I think I’ve seen denial mentioned online.” “Well, basically it’s when you delay or stop yourself or your partner from having an orgasm. There’s a bunch of different reasons to play with it and ways to do it. With our scene, because we’d spent so long working on you obeying commands and performing certain actions when told to, I thought it would make sense, and be kind of hot, if you came on command too. I’d be happy to do a full lesson on it next time if you want.”

“That does sound interesting but if I remember your curriculum plan thing correctly, shouldn’t we be getting to CNC next?” “Oh so now you’re paying attention to my curriculum huh?” Roger sat up straighter and, sensing the shift to a more serious topic, you followed, letting the blanket drop since you were wearing your bra. “That was my plan yes. And of course we can stick to that original plan if you feel ready to move on. But I’m also happy to spend more time on other kinks first, even just other role plays. We could play doctor.” You laughed, “Tempting offer, I think you’d make a pretty hot doctor. But I do think I’d like to learn at least the theory of CNC. It feels like an important topic and I think I’d prefer to do it sooner rather than later.” Roger sighed softly, “You’re right, we should cover it so we don’t run out of time. I’m just very conscious that this is a heavier topic than anything else we’ve covered. Some parts of it might get tough. And I really want to make sure to approach it with the right amount of gravity, without making it seem super scary.” You placed a hand on his knee, “I know that, and I appreciate it a lot.” Roger gave you a soft smile before another slight sigh, “I that case, yes, next lesson will be looking at consensual non-consent. I have been thinking about this lesson a lot actually and I had an idea of something we could a bit different, especially if you decide to go ahead with a practical lesson after we cover the theory.” “Different how?” Your question came out of curiosity not concern since you trusted that Roger’s ideas would be about your safety, but you couldn’t think of any ways to change what you were doing. “Well, because we’d potentially be role playing a non-consensual sexual encounter, I thought it might be a good idea to do it somewhere else.” “Like where? A hotel or something?” “No, no, nothing so public. Um, I have a little cottage a couple of hours out of the city. It was a family holiday house, but it doesn’t get used for that as much now. I thought we could go there for the weekend.”

Your breath caught at the idea of going away with Roger but you did your best to keep your voice steady, not too excited, as you asked, “How come?” "Well firstly, the neighbours are a little further away there so there’s much less risk of anyone misinterpreting whatever scene we would potentially be playing out and calling the cops on us. Plus, no one there would recognise you’re my student if they did see us together. Not to make it sound like some sort of bachelor pad or sex dungeon, but the last few times I’ve been there it has been for kink hookups so, even if we were spotted together, they’d probably just assume I’m bringing another girl over. Plus, because we are looking at CNC, a more unfamiliar location might help make the scene better. Assuming that we did that. Even if we went away, I wouldn’t expect you to participate in an actual CNC scene if you didn’t feel fully comfortable doing so.” You nodded but didn’t say anything, your stomach flipping uncomfortably with a mix of nerves about how serious Roger was being and excitement at the idea of going on a weekend trip with him. “But, more importantly, I want you to still feel safe in this house. I know CNC is technicaly what we’ve been building to but, since you’re so familiar with the curriculum, I’m sure you remember that it isn’t the last topic I suggested. I know I’m repeating myself but I’m happy to explore any kinks we haven’t covered or revisit kinks we have in the last weeks before the wedding, and I want you to feel okay doing that. CNC can be tough, it can be scary. It can play with sensations and emotions related to rape. And the last thing I want is for you to feel like I have raped you in what was previously a safe space. By moving the lesson to a different location, we could hopefully contain everything in a place that you won’t have to return to.” You nodded soberly, “That sounds good.” “Okay, well then, this weekend?” “Yeah, this weekend.”

[lovesickeros]

Hello! Since this blog doesn't see much activity nowadays, I wanted to say two things: 1. How are you? You were one of the people who inspired me to dive into SAGAU in 2022 and captivated me endlessly with your writing style. Your writing immersed me in what felt like a fantasy world in the best way—rife with possibilities, danger, love, and so much more. It propelled me to new heights and made me wonder what it would be like to be more than the reader, to wield a pen and use it as the brushstroke to paint all kinds of worlds, creatures, and characters.

On that note, I'll follow with the second thing: 2. You are one of my biggest inspirations as a writer. Because of you and others, I've spent the last two years writing and creating like never before in a way I didn't think I was capable of. I have an AO3 and a Tumblr blog, mainly dedicated to posting my musings in a "stream-of-consciousness" format for narrative purposes. Because of you, I've grown—as a person, friend, and writer. Because of you, I made countless memories I'll cherish for years: sharing and building stories with my friends' group chat, roleplaying, making AUs, etc. Because of you, I did everything I thought I couldn't: I fostered my creativity and cultivated it to plant what is now a thriving garden regularly visited by my friends. It has helped us bond immensely and provided me solace in my darkest hours.

Because of you, I wrote my first book on Wattpad. I hopped onto a wild, emotional, and unforgettable rollercoaster that saw my interest in watching movies and reading literature be re-ignited for the sake of inspiration, have a taste of fandom culture via Steven Universe, Genshin Impact, Murder Drones, and several other games and shows that have undoubtedly and irreversibly changed my life. Because of you, I made OCs, I discovered YouTube movie recaps, and now I can write a pretty good summary myself!

That is to say that I'm wholly grateful to you, Eros, and everyone else who led me down the path of the writer, supported me throughout with their comments, memes, stars, and kudos, and generally showed enthusiastic interest in my work. I wouldn't be here if not for you all. I hope your ship of life continues sailing smoothly, as has mine, after years of turbulent weather and unpredictable storms that threatened to throw us overboard if I hadn't held on to others (and myself) for support.

May the new year bring you joy and prosperity, and hey, what do you know? Maybe I'll write something for SAGAU someday. The only reason I haven't taken the plunge yet is because of how inactive (for lack of a better word) the community there has become, and I don't know what I would write. Ideas, anyone?

Anyway, I've talked for long enough. Keep up the good work, Eros, and remember that in someone's (my) heart, you are still held dearly as an inspiration. Even if the golden age has long faded, we will always have our memories to keep us company: "Don't cry because it ended. Smile because it happened."

it is unfortunate that the collective sagau fandom has kind of died out, honestly. its what got me really into writing as well (which i feel like i have to mention @/nicebonescomrade for being the writer to get me to make my first sagau blog. one of the other og's and also a phenomenal writer). im glad it had such a large impact on you though!! that makes me really happy bc ive always been self conscious about my writing and writing style ngl, though i never grew out of it bc it worked for me. i can't imagine stories like books as a movie in my head like some people (literally head empty) so i lean more on actually putting more feeling and description into my work to compensate. it gets a bit wordy but it helps me write bc i do not plan anything i just start writing based on vibes.

sagau downfall was definitely inevitable (and a part of why im super inactive) but im happy with how it turned out anyway bc of how big the fandom is and how many people turned to creative hobbies bc of it. its nice to know i at least had some kind of impact myself KJHKDH i wouldnt consider myself one of the "big" sagau accounts by any means so its a bit of a surprise ngl um. looks around.

i genuinely just spend most of my time these days printing out random fics when i get the urge (once in a blue moon, 99% of which are in my draft vault), playing whatever game caught my fancy this week and playing genshin because it's still a black hole i will never escape from! honestly maybe one day ill come back to this account for real instead of sporadic posting but uhhh. probably not unless a new big au pops up again.