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moonlinos · 2 months

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I can hear the siren (Siren part I)

♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Camboy!Hyunjin, neighbors AU, strangers to “lovers”

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), sex work, voyeurism if you squint, hate sex kind of?, masturbation, thigh riding, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, Hyunjin’s a bit of an asshole but I love him

♡ Word count: 7.9k

♡ Synopsis: To say your new next-door neighbor is loud would be an understatement. Three times a week, at the same time every night, he will laugh and talk loudly for an hour. After that, like clockwork, a cacophony of his groans and moans will fill your room through your shared wall. He’s most certainly entertaining some hookup, or maybe a girlfriend. You frankly don’t care — all you know is you want your peace and quiet back. But you never would’ve guessed what you would find out upon confronting him.

♡ A/N: Once again, I cannot shut up and this ended up being much longer than I had originally wanted. One day, I will write a one-shot that’s less than 5k words, but today is not that day. I listened to Taeyeon’s Siren while writing this, hence the title. Also think the song’s a little fitting to the story.

part II →

Yet another night, yet another two hours of hearing your next-door neighbor moaning like a porn star for anyone to hear. The thin walls of your apartment, coupled with the fact that your room shared a wall with his own bedroom, make it impossible for you not to hear everything that happens inside his bedroom. Earphones have proven futile in muffling his voice, and you can only distract yourself with mindless YouTube videos for so long before you give up and simply wait for him to finish. Quite literally.

You noticed it was his routine: Fridays and weekends — the nights when he would graciously give the entire building a free show.

But that wasn’t all he did. And that’s what stirs up curiosity inside of you.

An hour before the unholy sounds begin, he spends a significant amount of time simply speaking, laughing loudly, and throwing the occasional suggestive comment here and there. But only his voice can be heard, and considering how damn thin the walls are, you can’t help but wonder why that is. Maybe his hookups aren’t into his long, drawn-out conversations, only there to get fucked and dip as fast as possible. Or perhaps it’s a girlfriend, and he enjoys gagging her. Your mind has had plenty of time to run wild with theories, seeing as he moved about a month ago, starting your own personal version of hell on his very first day.

You complained to your landlord three times now. On the first time, you were dismissed as being too sensitive to noise. Maybe invest in some earplugs, she suggested. The second time, after explaining through gritted teeth that perhaps the entire building could also hear him and it would be wise to give him a warning, she assured you that only your apartment had such complaints — after all, it was only the two of you on that floor. And, on your last attempt before you ultimately gave up, your landlord all but berated you for meddling in your neighbor’s business. She argued he was inside his apartment and could do whatever he desired.

And so, you accepted your fate.

As you walk out of the shower, your bliss at the realization that tonight is a Friday dissipates as soon as it dawns on you that you are in for three days in a row of your neighbor and his antics. You groan, reluctantly making your way toward your bedroom, your body aching after sitting at your desk at work all day. So sleeping on the couch was not an option; your limbs only ached even more the day after you did that to try and escape the raucous noise.

Like clockwork, at exactly ten p.m., his loud voice fills the small space of your bedroom.

“I’m actually going out tonight again, so we have to be quick,” he explains. “But you like it when I’m quick, don’t you? Like when I make you cum so fast you barely have time to understand what’s happening.”

You grimace at his words, burying yourself under your blankets. God.

“I’m going clubbing with a couple of friends,” He continues. “Hopefully, I’ll find a nice girl to take home, hm?”

Crossing out the word Girlfriend on your mental notes, you scoff. What a gentleman he is, letting his hook-up know he’ll have to fuck her fast so he can leave to meet another woman to take home.

“Maybe I’ll record a video for you if she lets me. Would you like that, seeing me fuck another woman? I bet you would.”

What the fuck. The word Girlfriend is added back to your list. Maybe the girl is into that shit, and you’re not one to kink shame so long as everything’s consensual. But you surely didn’t consent to knowing that information.

Soon enough, his voice drops to a sultry tone, and incessant hums spill from his lips. And the worst part of your night begins.

You hate to admit it — seeing as the guy makes you lose sleep and disturbs your peace since he’s graced the building with his presence — but his dirty talk, when coupled with his groans, becomes far less unpleasant and much more enticing. Every night, you struggle for an hour with the uncomfortable feeling of arousal between your legs, the way he alternates between praises and vulgar words causing a twinge inside of you. But you never dare to masturbate to the sound of his voice — that would be going too far. Or, at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you follow your rule of waiting for him to finish whatever it is that he’s doing to then finally touch yourself. As you tightly shut your eyes, you focus on your upcoming work assignments, desperately trying to drown out the sound of his voice. Maybe boring yourself to sleep is your only escape.

“Oh, I know how wet you are just watching me — fuck,” he groans, a breathy scoff leaving his lips. “Don’t even gotta tell me. Just touch yourself, it’s okay.”

Your eyes shoot open as it feels as if he’s fucking talking to you. You shake your head, the awful feeling of embarrassment engulfing you in the privacy of your own bedroom.

“I know you want to,” His voice is unrelenting, reverberating through your dark room, punctuated by heavy sighs. “Do it for me, will you? Touch your pretty cunt for me.”

You feel your clit begin to pulse, and a loud groan escapes from your lips. So loud, in fact, you wonder if he heard you through the thin walls as well.

Fuck it, you tell yourself inwardly, it’s not like the guy will ever know what you’re doing.

The sound of his voice was as silky and dark as velvet, covering you wholly and clouding your judgment with each word. You allow your hand to slip underneath your sleep shorts, gasping as you find the fabric of your panties already soaking simply from hearing his words — almost begging, guiding you to let go of your reservations and touch yourself.

“Just like that. D’you like the sound of my voice?” He asked, voice breathless, a deep groan echoing through the walls. “Like hearing me moan for you? Bet you’d like it even more if I was fucking you.”

Your fingers delicately flick back and forth, teasing your clit, your mind now shamelessly imagining his fingertips, his tongue, his cock, anything he was willing to give you. You’re quick to lose yourself in this imagination, despite not knowing what the man looked like — you soon realize that wasn’t at all important, a dark shadowy figure hovering over you proving to be more than enough for you as you felt a rush of wetness pooling between your thighs when your neighbor let out a louder, guttural noise.

“Fuck, I’d love to be stretching that pussy out,” He chokes out, and you bite your bottom lip to keep from making any noise. You’re now hyper-aware that if you can hear him this loudly, he’d be able to hear you with the same amount of clarity.

Your embarrassment only goes so far, though, as you slip a finger into your cunt, your breath hitching and your eyes fluttering closed to better conjure up the fantasy your mind had been creating. You imagine his long fingers inside you in place of your own, the words he spilled almost nonchalantly being whispered directly into your ears. One finger soon turned into two, then three, the heel of your palm rubbing against your clit as you tilt your hips up. You throw away your last drop of inhibition as you indulge in vivid thoughts, imagining the shape and size of his cock and, most importantly, how it would feel as it filled you up. Your neighbor’s words almost faded into white noise, his grunting the only coherent sound in your ears.

Would he take his time with you, like he always did whenever you heard him? Teasing you for hours as he candidly talked about nothing in particular, rendering you unable to do anything but beg for him? Or would he be hasty, like tonight, his cock abruptly stretching you to the brim, making you feel every inch of his thick length? Would he rather finish on your breasts, your stomach, or maybe your face, taking a picture to keep as a souvenir he could show off to whoever he was with during these nights?

“Come with me,” His voice suddenly became clear once more, deep and hoarse as you imagine his lips pressed against the shell of your ear. “Think about how good it’d feel to have me come inside you, stuffing that little cunt while you milk me dry.”

You purse your lips as you feel your release approaching, coaxed purely by his words. The mental image of this stranger painting your insides with his release, all the while his intoxicating voice told you how good you were, how warm and tight you felt enough to have waves of pleasure wash over you, body tensing up as your orgasm surges through you.

As you slowly come down from your high, you feel your consciousness come back to you. Your fingers leave your core as if you were just burned by fire, which is fitting as a feeling of burning embarrassment wraps around you tightly like a vice.

But the worst part is that the shame quickly ebbs away as you hear your neighbor’s chuckle, the laugh of a stranger you had come to almost memorize.

“You know I’m always glad to make you come. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with that, everything around you falls into a quiet stillness. You faintly hear as he shuts his front door, presumably leaving for that club he had mentioned, and you’re left to lie with your regrets.

This has just crossed a line, and although you couldn’t bring yourself to feel all that guilty, you still knew it was wrong. You had no choice but to confront the cause of your troubles yourself.

Unfortunately, that cause was a person you had just shamelessly fantasized about as you fingered yourself.

The next afternoon, you stand at your neighbor’s door, hesitant to knock. Since he mentioned going clubbing last night, you knew coming by in the morning would be futile, but you also know — sadly, all too well — that Saturday nights are when he’s the loudest, and he only stops well past midnight. You settled for the afternoon, preparing lunch as you rehearsed your words in your head instead of enjoying your weekend.

You knock twice, and that familiar voice soon rings through the door, asking for a moment. A minute later, your neighbor is standing in front of you, holding the door open with sleepy eyes that focus on you. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but surely not a tired-looking tall man with messy black hair wearing a pout on his lips, as if you just rudely disturbed him from his sleep (how ironic). From what you heard during the last month, you were ready to have to face a shirtless fuckboy, a permanent smirk etched onto his lips as he eyed you indifferently. Instead, you’re greeted by soft cheeks and half-closed eyes.

“Yeah?” Your neighbor croaks out, face still heavy with sleep.

You clear your throat, returning to the matter at hand. “I’m your next-door neighbor, I—”

“Nice to meet you, neighbor,” he says before you can even finish your rehearsed opening sentence, his lips curling into a small smile. You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Somehow, him being so soft is making you hate him even more.

“I wish I could say the same,” you mutter, “Y’know, you’ve been making my life a living hell since you moved in.”

He doesn’t answer, instead running a hand through his hair, the strands falling into place and away from his face. After a small nod, he opens the door all the way.

“Come on in,” he says, promptly walking inside and leaving you standing in the hallway all alone. You have no choice but to follow after him.

He snatches his cup of coffee from the counter, letting out a tired sigh as he collapses onto the couch and takes a big sip. You sit next to him and watch as he swallows slowly, humming contently, and only then speaking again.

“Why is that?”

You hold back another eye roll. “Well, you’re quite noisy at night,” you hesitantly begin, only now grasping just how awkward explaining this situation will be. “On Fridays and on the weekends, you’re… loud.”

And in an instant, you witness a complete shift in his entire demeanor right before your eyes. Like he’s possessed by something, his once sleepy eyes now bore into you with an intense gaze, and his lips curl into the smug grin you were expecting from the start.

“So you can hear me?” He asks as if you hadn’t just told him exactly that. You feel small under the weight of his darkened eyes, but you shrug, doing your best at feigning confidence.

“It’s pretty hard not to hear you,” you answer simply. “We share a wall, in case you didn’t know. I can hear everything you do in your bedroom.”

He raises a brow at your words as if they piqued his interest. But he doesn’t verbalize it; instead, he speaks in that same nonchalant tone you’re used to hearing through your bedroom wall, “You never told me your name. A bit rude, don’t you think?” He offers you his hand. “I’m Hyunjin.”

You scoff but shake his hand regardless, telling him your name with a sigh.

“You know what I think is rude?” You offer him a forced smile. “Keeping your next-door neighbor up all night with how fucking loud you are.”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer. His gaze traces a path from your eyes to your lips before lingering on your thighs. You instinctively cross your legs, fingers smoothing down the fabric of your shorts. Locking his gaze with yours once more after a few seconds, he cocks his head to the side.

“So I’ve been keeping you up all night?” He muses, and you feel a warmth spread across your cheeks at the rough rasp in his voice.

It’s almost as if he knows what you did last night and is teasing you.

Although you know that’s impossible, your words still get choked up. Hyunjin was undeniably attractive — whether it was looking as soft as he did while answering the door or as if he could devour you with his gaze alone as he does now. You couldn’t be blamed for feeling flustered, especially after everything you heard this man saying and doing.

“Well,” you clear your throat, crossing your arms over your chest. Showing your outrage at this entire situation is your best bet, so you allow for the anger you felt during all those sleepless nights to seep through your veins. “It’s kinda hard to sleep when you’re moaning like a porn star.”

But Hyunjin fully chuckles at that. “So I sound like a porn star?” He nods with an amused hum. “I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you.”

You let out a heavy sigh. Never mind anything you had thought upon seeing him open that door; Hyunjin is everything you thought he would be.

“Look, I didn’t come here to stroke your ego. You’re clearly doing just fine in that regard,” you grumble, and he scoffs beside you, leaning back on the couch with a smug expression you want to slap away from his pretty face. “I came here to ask if you could move whatever it is that you do to the living room, or maybe keep it down. I’m sure that’s not too much to ask.”

Hyunjin clicks his tongue almost mockingly. “Oh, but it is too much to ask. I can’t really do any of those things. Sorry,” he shrugs, “The building has thin walls. You’re just gonna have to get used to it, I’m afraid.”

You stagger at his words, his lack of common sense seemingly higher than you initially gave him credit for. You’re unsure whether to laugh in sheer disbelief or cuss him out as anger slowly bubbles up inside your chest. How unfairly attractive he looks at the moment isn’t helping your case — he spreads his legs further as he shifts on the couch, bringing his mug up to his full lips and watching you almost uninterestedly with half-lidded eyes.

Fuck this guy.

“What is it you do that’s so important that you can’t at least keep it down? Can’t your girlfriend get off without your obnoxious dirty talk? Is that it?”

Hyunjin shakes his head dismissively. “Don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Your dates, then. I honestly don’t care.” You roll your eyes, which elicits a small laugh from him. You have never wanted to punch someone so badly, all while also wanting them to rearrange your guts. “Whoever it is, whatever it is that you do, can’t we compromise and you be quiet, at least on Fridays? I get home from work exhausted and have to put up with your shit when all I wanna do is sleep.”

“Ah, but Fridays are the most important nights for me,” Hyunjin tells you with a condescending lilt in his voice. “That’s also not possible, I’m so sorry.”

“I see.” You suck in a deep breath, your eyes narrowing and hands curling into fists on your lap. “Then would it be possible for you to move your… activities to the living room?”

Hyunjin contorts his face, shaking his head while that grin is still etched onto his lips. “Yeah, no, that’s also not possible.”

“You’re extremely inflexible, do you know that?” You blurt out, “I’m not asking that you move out, I’m simply asking that you fuck whoever it is that you fuck every weekend somewhere else.”

His piercing gaze lingers on you briefly, as if he’s carefully considering his next words. Sighing, he sets his mug on the end table and sits up straight.

“Let’s make a deal,” he proposes, carelessly ripping a piece of paper from the open sketchbook that lay on the coffee table and jotting something down. “Tonight, you wait for me to start my activities,” he says with a poorly concealed chuckle. “And then you go on this website. Maybe it’ll clear up some things inside your pretty little head. Can you do that for me?”

He hands you the note, eyes darting down to your lips once more before meeting your gaze. The tone of his voice is the same that echoes through your bedroom during those nights — exactly like the one that coaxed an orgasm out of you just last night, and you absentmindedly squeeze your thighs together.

You need to get out of here.

With a small nod, you swiftly stand back on your feet and walk toward the door of his apartment that was left wide open. You quietly mutter a goodbye as Hyunjin says something about it being a pleasure meeting you, all while amusedly staring at you.

It’s only as you close your front door behind you that you look down at the piece of paper that you subconsciously crumpled up. Scrawled in a messy handwriting is simply a website address:

fivestarcam.com

You furrow your brows, walking toward your bedroom as you rack your brain for how a website could possibly give you answers. It dawns on you, then — all the trouble you went through, and yet, no solution to your problem.

Ultimately, you decide you’ve already wasted too much of your patience on this man today, throwing the piece of paper on your bedside table and going about your day, enjoying the tranquility of your apartment while you can.

Night comes too fast, the sun setting outside unbeknownst to you as you lie on the couch for nearly three hours, your focus solely on the plot of the movie playing on your phone. Soon enough, ten p.m. rolls around, and you drag your tired body toward your bathroom. You take a shower with no rush, knowing full well that by the time you walk into your bedroom, Hyunjin’s activities will already have started.

Sure enough, you’re greeted by a drawled-out groan as soon as you enter your room. With a heavy sigh, you throw yourself onto your bed. Your bedroom had always been comforting, your bed almost like a safe haven from all the stress life threw your way. Yet now it’s simply the place where you lie awake for hours, simultaneously vexed and uncomfortably turned on.

You lie still for a while, Hyunjin’s vulgar chatter like the background music to your spacing out, until you remember the piece of paper he gave you earlier. How would a website clear up any of your confusion? And, more importantly, why should you even care enough to find out? From the little interaction you had with the man, you know for a fact Hyunjin will remain unchanging in his obnoxious ways.

However, you’ve always been too curious for your own good, and the mere prospect of understanding this annoyingly enigmatic man even a tiny bit has you hurriedly picking your laptop off the floor and typing out the website address on your browser. Curiosity killed the cat.

The first thing that greets you is a message asking that you verify being over the age of eighteen. All you have to do is click a button, which seems counterintuitive, but you have little time to worry about that when your screen is filled with preview thumbnails of several live broadcasts.

You’ve heard of camming websites before, of course, but you didn’t know they were still a thing nowadays, what with the rise of Only Fans and other more independent ways to go about making money like this.

Your eyes scan the page with agape lips. Men and women — some in their underwear and some already naked, some showing their faces and some wearing masks. And then, your eyes land on a particular thumbnail. At the Top Cammers of The Month section, on the number one spot, is a fully clothed man with familiar long black hair. Only the bottom of his face can be seen due to his camera angle, but that is more than enough as your gaze fixes on his full lips.

That’s undeniably Hyunjin. Your neighbor, Hyunjin.

Before you can make sense of your actions, your fingers are already hovering above the touchpad as you watch the thumbnail image change into a new one. Curiosity is eating away at you, and you can’t deny that your nosy mind is eager to finally see Hyunjin rather than only hear him.

Ultimately, you decide this is ridiculous.

But your twitching fingers brush against the touchpad just as you move to close your laptop, promptly clicking the live video, your screen now filled with the image of Hyunjin in his bedroom. He’s shirtless now, palming himself through his sweatpants — the same ones he wore this afternoon.

“You wanna know how clubbing went last night?” He says with a grin, and you now understand his incessant talking is merely him answering comments from his viewers. Various different names fly through the right side of your screen, some with tips attached to their comments and some simply drooling over Hyunjin as he essentially sits in front of the camera doing nothing.

A cocky smile is spread on his lips once you shift your attention back to him.

“I guess you’re good at following orders,” he chuckles. You then realize your laptop’s volume is on high, and the speaker’s noise permeates through your wall and into Hyunjin’s bedroom. Your eyes shoot open, and you scramble to find your earphones in your bed.

You’re gnawing on your bottom lip as you plug them in, suddenly too aware of the fact that he can hear you just as well as you can hear him. Hyunjin’s smile shifts into a small laugh, his hand wrapping around his length through his sweatpants, the firm outline of his cock straining against the fabric. You feel a tingling sensation spread through your body, your inner muscles clenching as you watch the way his hand squeezes along the thick outline, the muscles of his stomach contracting as he lets out a broken sigh.

This feels wrong, as if you’re nothing more than a pervert watching Hyunjin for your own pleasure. But then again, it was he who gave you the website address in the first place. Why else would he have done that if not for you to watch him?

“I have a special someone watching tonight,” he murmurs, and you can just imagine his gaze right now — his eyes hooded and piercing, locked onto the camera with the same intensity as when he looked at you earlier today.

Hyunjin’s hand reaches inside his sweatpants, withdrawing his cock from the constraints of the dark fabric before you can make sense of what’s happening. Your gaze remains fixed, unable to look away from the red, swollen head that stands out against his pale skin. With lazy movements, he begins stroking himself, the precum dripping from the tip easing the glide of his hand. You bite the inside of your cheek as more arousal leaks from you, gathering in your panties.

“Hope she likes watching just as much as she liked listening to me last night,” Hyunjin rasps out, and you immediately close your laptop, throwing it to the side before burying your face in your pillow.

He knows you got off to his voice. He has to know.

And, unfortunately, your brain is currently too clouded by lust to function properly, and the only logical solution you can come up with is to go knocking at his door tomorrow.

You stand in front of Hyunjin’s door at the same time as yesterday, a strange blend of anger and curiosity making you knock frantically until he answers with that annoyingly alluring smirk on his lips.

“Did you enjoy the show last night?” Hyunjin asks before you can even utter a word, his voice filled with a goading tone.

You push past him, walking into his apartment with a scowl. “Why did you send me that?”

He only shrugs, closing the door behind him before stretching his arms above his head with a sigh. “Needed you to understand why I can’t just stop doing what I do. It’s my job,” he reasons, “I figured showing you was more effective than telling you.”

A scoff involuntarily falls from your lips, and you fight back the urge to roll your eyes. “So you just sent me to a website full of porn without even asking me if that was okay? I don’t care if that’s your fucking job, I never asked you—”

“Did you stay till the end?” He asks, a lazy grin on his lips as his gaze wanders across your face. Clearly, he’d completely ignored every word that came out of your mouth.

“Hyunjin, are you even listening to me?”

“I was thinking about you, y’know?” He continues, taking a step toward you. “Was really easy to come when I knew you were watching me.” He cages your body against the door with his, both hands resting beside your head. His dark gaze locks onto you, causing your breath to hitch. “All I could think about was how you were secretly listening to me all this time. Such a dirty girl.”

Hyunjin clicks his tongue, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. You want to tell him you weren’t secretly listening to him; you were merely thrown into this situation against your will. But his gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips, lingering before roaming over the swell of your breasts, causing your thoughts to blur and your words to die in your throat.

“Kept thinking about how I never heard you,” he says, almost as if he’s wondering aloud. “When was the last time someone fucked you properly?”

His gaze finally travels back up to yours, and the fog of desire clouding his eyes is unmistakable. The moment you knocked on his door, you knew this would happen. You weren’t naïve, and Hyunjin wasn’t stupid; the moment you pushed past him and into his apartment, you both knew where this was going.

“Don’t have time to go on dates,” you murmur as Hyunjin leans down, humming low on his throat.

“Well,” he whispers, the warmth of his breath tickling your face. “You got to listen to me, got to watch me… Don’t you wanna know what it feels like?”

You can only nod, and Hyunjin immediately presses his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He wedges his knee firmly between your thighs, as if he’s silently demanding that you give in to him. Little does he know you’re already way past that point.

Breaking the kiss, Hyunjin studies your features for a beat, the pad of his thumb gliding across your bottom lip as you look up at him with pleading eyes.

“You really want this?” He asks, and you can’t help but feel he does it simply for the pleasure of hearing you beg.

But you happily comply either way.

“Please,” you breathe out, and Hyunjin chuckles, firmly pressing his thumb into your mouth and watching as you wrap your lips around it with a contented hum. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

Hyunjin pushes his thigh against your core, the seam of your shorts creating a delicious friction against your clit. You can feel the warmth of his body as he presses up against you, and a sigh falls from your lips, your hands gliding up around his shoulders. You have no reservations left in your body; the only thing replaying inside your mind at the moment is the image of Hyunjin’s cock on your laptop. He was right. You were dying to know what it would feel like.

His strong hands firmly gripped onto your hips, guiding you to move against his thigh, each back-and-forth motion increasing the pressure on your aching clit. It felt too much, yet not enough at the same time. But just as you’re about to plead for more, Hyunjin’s pressing his lips to yours again and swallowing down your voice. His tongue slides against yours, the taste of coffee and smoke lingering in your mouth as he grazes your bottom lip with his teeth, pulling gently before letting go.

You feel your mind go fully hazy as Hyunjin lifts his thigh, bringing you up to your tiptoes, his muscles flexing and prompting you to roll your hips faster, harder.

“Who would’ve thought, huh? Just minutes ago you were acting like I was the worst person alive,” He lets out a low chuckle, amused, and your grip on his neck tightens as you feel the familiar vexation he brings out of you bubble up inside your chest. “Now you’re humping my leg like a bitch in heat.”

“Shut up,” you choke out, your brain too lust-hazed to conjure up a better response. You don’t particularly care what he thinks of you so long as he keeps his bruising grip on your skin, guiding you to roll your hips against him.

Hyunjin trails kisses down the skin of your neck, settling at the dip of your collarbone and sucking on the skin while you eagerly quicken your speed. His teeth nip at the sensitive skin, undoubtedly marking you, while his thigh begins to bounce against your cunt, and you can feel the familiar aching warmth of your orgasm beginning to tighten in your stomach. But just as you’re about to be hit by the release you’re so desperate for, Hyunjin’s hands leave your hips and slide down to your ass, any stimulation you had before coming to a halt as he picks you up and makes his way to the living room.

“What the fuck?” You all but yell, earning you a hearty laugh from Hyunjin. “I was close, you asshole.”

He roughly throws you onto the couch, a condescending pout etched onto his lips.

“But that’s no fun for me, is it, baby?” He hovers over you, spreading your thighs apart and slotting himself between them. In stark contrast to his words, he gently lifts your shirt over your head, feather-light touch sending shivers down your spine. “Greedy girls don’t get to come.”

You feel your insides clenching at his words, and although you despise the effect he has on you, you’re already here, laid out before him, so you might as well indulge him. You gently push Hyunjin back until he sinks into the sofa, legs lazily spread apart and half-lidded eyes fixated on you. As soon as you clutch at his shirt, he promptly tugs it over his head in one fluid motion, and you attach your lips to the bare skin of his stomach, trailing kisses down the expanse of his torso.

You waste no time tugging his sweatpants down and out of your way, his cock now hanging heavily before you, just as pretty as it had seemed on that little screen. Hyunjin’s hand soon wraps around himself, stroking lazily while you watch the precum dribble from his tip. Tentatively, you grab the base of his cock, bringing your tongue to the head and tantalizingly lapping at it. Hyunjin lets out a quiet gasp, his own hand leaving his length and tangling in your hair, guiding you forward toward his cock. You part your lips and suck the head into your waiting mouth, hands now stroking his length at a slow pace while you lick up his slit, the salty taste lingering on your tongue. You hold back a chuckle when you feel him twitch under your touch, a soft whimper falling from his throat.

Hyunjin’s hips buck up into your lips, and you promptly open your jaw wider and slide his whole length down your throat slowly. You weren’t lying when you said you had no time for dates, which is why you find yourself struggling a bit. It truly had been a while since you had a proper fuck, but you would never give Hyunjin the pleasure of hearing you admit it. Breathing through your nose, you’re finally able to move up and down his cock, swallowing all of him. Your eyes well up as his fingers tug harshly at your hair, shoving your mouth back down the entirety of his thick length. A choked-out whimper falls from your throat, and you instinctively move your gaze toward his.

“God,” he rasps out, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip and eyebrows knitting together. “You take me so well.”

You promptly remove your lips from him with a loud pop, precum and saliva dribbling down your chin as you struggle to suppress a laugh at the utter indignation on his face.

“I doubt you could fuck me if I let you come,” you shrug, and Hyunjin’s expression softens, a scoff falling from his lips.

Before you can say anything else, he’s already pushed you back onto the couch, easily flipping you over so your face is pressed into the cushion. He snakes a hand under your stomach and lifts your hips, quickly working to rid you of your shorts before pressing his cock against your clothed ass.

He leans down, lips pressed against your ear — much like it was in your fantasy back in your bedroom — and whispers, “You need me that badly? I can feel how soaked you are, and all you did was hump my leg.”

You grumble under your breath, but it goes ignored by Hyunjin as he grips your hips and slides his cock under the fabric of your panties, stroking himself along your soaking slit with a low groan. You can feel your underwear gradually dampen more as his precum mixes with your own arousal, the sheer cloth clinging to his cock with each thrust.

Hyunjin’s hand splayed across your lower back, causing you to arch your body and press your hips back instinctively. He chuckles, hand coming down onto the supper flesh of your ass with no warning, a sharp whimper falling from your lips.

“I told you greedy girls don’t get to come,” He reiterates, clicking his tongue and grabbing a large handful of your ass before tugging your panties down your legs. You quietly hoped the trees outside obscured enough of his window, otherwise you’d be in for some interesting elevator rides with your other neighbors. With a hiss, Hyunjin’s thumb presses against your clit before gliding along your wet folds. “Soaking wet,” he mutters, eyes glazed over while he watches your slick coat his finger.

You simply hum, not wanting to stroke his ego any more than you already had by begging him earlier. But you’re unable to contain the gasp that leaves your lips as he pushes his hips forward, the swollen tip of his cock gliding against your warm core once, twice, all while Hyunjin’s hands travel across your ass and thighs. You’re sure he’ll tease you until you give in and beg, but it seems his facade is quick to crumble. He impatiently wraps a hand around his length, finally guiding himself toward your entrance, seamlessly gliding into you with a heavy sigh.

He stills for a second, gaze transfixed by the way your cunt stretches around his thick cock. Until he suddenly pulls out of you before snapping his hips forward again, then again, until he sets a rhythm of deep, fast strokes that have you rocking back and forth on the couch. Pulling yourself up to rest on your forearms, you choke out a loud moan, Hyunjin’s cock twitching inside you at the sound.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” He groans, strong arms encircling your body once more, this time pulling you close to him until your back presses against his chest. Hyunjin’s thrusts grew more forceful, the sound of skin slapping together echoing through his small living room as he relentlessly pumped himself into you. His hand wraps in your hair, yanking your head back and humming against your ear, “Go on, you can moan for me,” he hisses, “I know how good it feels.”

Fuck. His ego is surely something you would never get used to.

But you let go, freely groaning at the feeling of his cock pistoning into you. You can feel the curve of his grin against your cheek.

“Like that, I know how much you like it,” he rasps out, “Just as much as you liked touching yourself to my voice like a little slut.”

“Fuck off, you—” you huff, your words cut off by a drawn-out mewl as Hyunjin’s fingers firmly pressed down on your clit, flattening the swollen bud. You couldn’t control yourself after that, desperate whimpers and choked-out moans falling from your lips with each harsh thrust of his hips.

Your sounds seem to stir something inside of him, and his movements grow more erratic, his fingers circling your clit hastily. A crescendo of arousal and pleasure envelops you as more curses tumble from Hyunjin’s lips against your ear, his hand gripping your cheek and pulling you into a messy kiss.

You clench around him, body shaking with the force of your climax as you seek Hyunjin’s arm wrapped around your body for purchase. He continues pounding into you, and you feel yourself squirm, your vision going blurry from the stimulation.

“Gonna come,” he hisses against your lips, “Where do you want it?”

And you’re too far gone at this point, whimpering, “Anywhere you want.”

Hyunjin curses under his breath, pulling out while his hand finds your lower back once more, pushing you onto the couch before flipping your pliant body over so you’re facing him. You watch with hazy eyes as he strokes himself feverishly over your body, his cum soon shooting onto your breasts.

His unreadable gaze lingers on you for a beat and a half before he nonchalantly tucks himself back into his sweatpants and heads toward the hallway. You sit up on the couch, limbs aching, and chuckle to yourself. This was not your proudest moment, but you surely didn’t regret it.

You don’t expect aftercare from someone like him, so you resign yourself to searching for your discarded shirt. But Hyunjin’s tall frame appears before you, towel in hand before you can even stand up. His touch is gentle as he cleans your chest, and although the gesture is somewhat sweet, it feels extremely awkward.

“Really liked fucking you,” he tells you with a grin, “But you gotta leave now. I’m going live later, and I also gotta go to the club tonight, so I have to rest. But it was fun.”

And you simply scoff at his words, rising to your feet to dress yourself as quickly as possible. It was a bit baffling how he could fuck you the way he did, then tell you he’s off to pick up more girls at a club immediately after. But what did you expect? Hyunjin’s ego and arrogance were clear to you from day one.

“Why the fuck do you go clubbing so much, anyway?” You question as you head toward the front door, and Hyunjin chuckles behind you. “Is that your hunting ground or something?”

“You could say that,” he simply says.

As you unlock his door and step out into the hallway, Hyunjin’s voice calls out to you. Turning to look at him, you’re met with that familiar smirk adorning his lips.

“We can do this again anytime you want,” he assures, and the mere thought of letting him touch you again makes you roll your eyes in disdain.

“Yeah right.”

If only you knew then just how awfully torturous it would be to listen to him, knowing what he was doing — most importantly, knowing what it felt like to have him.

Lust completely clouds your judgment when it comes to Hyunjin, and you soon find yourself coming back to his apartment until it becomes an annoyingly pleasurable habit.

Every day, when he hears you get home from work, your phone buzzes with a text asking that you come over and help him ‘warm up for his job.’ The nights of suffering in your bedroom have transformed into watching him from the corner of his room, enthralled with the way he can make himself come on camera so eagerly and later fuck you with just as much vigor.

It’s a nice arrangement, but definitely not one you see yourself in for the long run. Hyunjin might kiss you and hold you close as he fucks you, but you’re not foolish enough to anchor your feelings to someone like him. It’s not his job that’s the problem, but mostly his attitude toward life. He belongs to nobody, while you yearn to belong to someone. Routine is the last thing on his mind, while you revel in its comfort. You could never be with someone like him.

But it is a nice arrangement.

So you find yourself back in his bed again today, his heavy cock in your mouth as he tugs harshly on your hair, painting the back of your throat with his cum. Except this time, he doesn’t immediately ask you to leave.

“What?” You ask, “Don’t you have to go clubbing or something?”

“It’s my day off,” he shrugs, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close and falls back into bed. You furrow your brows, detangling yourself from him.

“Day off? From what, picking up girls?”

Hyunjin chuckles, eyes sleepy. “I work at the club,” he simply says. “I’m a host, I just act like I go clubbing when I talk about it during my lives ‘cause my viewers can be a bit stalkery.”

“What?”

“Have you heard of The Siren?” He asks, and you hum, recalling a faint memory of some of your co-workers mentioning the club in passing. “That’s where I work.”

You nod slowly, still confused. “What exactly does a host do?”

“Well, basically, I get to make money just by making lonely women feel wanted.”

You can’t help but scoff at his crude description. “And do you fuck them?”

“Well, yeah,” he answers like it’s obvious. “It’s part of the job.”

“Fucking hell,” You let out a hearty laugh, to which Hyunjin shoots you a questioning look. “Your sex drive really should be studied.”

His lips upturn into a smirk, and his arms reach for you again, beckoning you back into his embrace. “No need to be jealous, baby. I only fuck them if they’re willing to pay, and I’m expensive.”

You roll your eyes, allowing him to pull you into his chest. He threads his fingers through your hair, and you can’t help but feel… awkward.

“You’re kind of an asshole, Hyunjin.”

He hums. “Sure, but you still let me fuck you.”

You two stay that way for a while, his fingers massaging your scalp as he presses a kiss to your head now and then. It feels disorienting, like a sudden shift from everything Hyunjin had been until now. He was never caring or sweet, he never kissed you if you weren’t fucking, and he surely never cuddled you. Your face involuntarily contorts into a grimace.

You detach yourself from him, getting up from the bed and telling him you’ll see him later. But Hyunjin is grabbing at your arm with a smile.

“Come on, don’t be sad,” he giggles as you try to free yourself from his grip. “I’m really not the type of guy you should have fallen for, anyway.”

You still at his words, face contorting into pure befuddlement. “Fallen for? Who the fuck says I’ve fallen for you?”

And Hyunjin simply scoffs, letting go of your arm as his smile shifts into his characteristic grin. “Well, there’s a reason I’m number one among the hosts at The Siren.”

“Hyunjin, those girls aren’t exactly after you for your personality,” you deadpan. “You’re really nothing worth falling for.”

His grin slowly fades, and it’s his turn to have confusion take hold in his eyes. “What?”

You can tell he wasn’t expecting this. Almost as if he was expecting you to have truly fallen for him simply because he… is him. And you can’t help but chuckle at the situation.

“Hyunjin,” you call out to him sweetly, and his gaze is back on you immediately. “You’re a nice fuck, but that’s really it. Don’t worry about me falling for you.”

You can swear you see a flicker of hurt in his eyes, but it’s likely only your imagination. He opens his lips to speak but promptly closes them again. He simply stares up at you from where he’s sat on the bed and almost looks sweet. If you didn’t know him, you would undoubtedly be charmed by this convincing facade. You have to give it to him; you do understand why he’s number one at his job.

“But…” He trails off, shaking his head. “But I’ll see you again tomorrow, right?”

“Sure,” you shrug. “We can keep fucking until I find something better.”

You run your fingers through his long hair and make your way to the door, leaving him with an expression frozen in bewilderment.

Hyunjin might kiss you and hold you close as he fucks you, but he’ll never be yours.

But that’s not a problem, as you surely will never be his as well.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings

#stray kids #hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin x you #stray kids smut #skz

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allfearstofallto · 2 months

Text

Sleeping Like the Dead

Yandere! Diluc x Fem! Reader

Forced marriage AU

Word Count: 2.3k

Synopsis: Diluc craves your body like a drug, but the only time he can get you, is when you're fast asleep

TW: NSFW, Somnophila, Non-Con, Masturbation (.male), Oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, mentions of breeding/finishing inside

The only thing that could seem to wake you was thunder. A loud crash and the windows shaking, followed by howling wind, and you'd be up shivering in fear. You'd lie back down once you realized what the noise that woke you was, and you were out like a light. Deep in slumber, snoring ever so softly.

Even though you were married on paper, you and Diluc never shared a marital bed. The marriage was never consummated and the most he'd ever seen of your body was your legs and maybe even a sliver of your stomach in the summer. Other than that, you stayed dressed head to toe like a nun.

He knew it was his fault that you were like this. Being forced into marriage with him, you didn't even want to tempt his urges. You were told time and time again that nothing would happen, not while you didn't want it, but he was failing to believe that himself.

It was when he saw you one night, after you'd just gotten out of the bath. Normally, he stayed in his room at nightfall, but now, he was particularly thirsty. Whether it was good luck or the gods actually blessing him for once, he saw you go into your room and close the door behind you.

Did he buy you those nightgowns? If he did, he definitely didn't remember doing so. But the red haired man did buy you whatever you wanted, no questions asked. So maybe you'd managed to slip an order in for them without him noticing. And archons how he wished he'd noticed.

The swell of your breasts, the curve of your ass, plush thighs and skin still steaming from your bath. You didn't notice him standing in front of the door to his room, but he noticed you. A brief glance was all it took, light work for anyone else who'd been married for as long as you two had, but it was the first time he's seen so much of you, and he felt his pants tighten at the sight.

He stormed back into his room while the memory was still fresh, not even bothering to make it to the bed. The door slammed shut behind him, he pressed his back against it and dropped his pants to his ankles.

It felt like electricity all over his body as he stroked his cock, eyes rolling back, tongue out his mouth. Diluc wasn't a prude, he masturbated when he deemed it necessary, which was when he got erections that were particularly stubborn and annoying, but this was the first time in his life that it'd ever felt so good.

It only took a few pumps and suddenly he was moaning into his hands, hips twitching as his cock shot ropes of cum onto his carpeted floor. He panted watching himself make this mess, but his mind shifted onto how you could clean it up. And his length refused to go soft. He fucked his fist for the rest of the night.

Diluc often heard stories of how hard it was to wake you up. That's when he learned how truly a heavy sleeper you were.

“The lady slept through breakfast again today,” a maid would say in a whisper. They thought he couldn't hear them, but as long as they weren't saying anything rude about you, he acted oblivious to it.

“She fell back asleep after I woke her up three times!”

“I called for her for a full five minutes, and she barely stirred,”

Temptation is a hell of a drug. Satisfaction is even more addicting. Maybe that's why he decided to visit your room one night. Hours after you'd left your bath and when he was sure you were asleep, he eased your door open and stepped inside. His heart was racing, afraid that you wouldn't be asleep, but instead sitting on the edge of your bed, waiting to confront him.

But you weren't. You were just like how he'd thought you’d be. Asleep in bed, lying on your stomach with your arms wrapped around a pillow and pulling it into a tight embrace. Your blanket was thrown haphazardly over your body, you obviously kicked a lot in your sleep, making it shuffle around.

Exhaling the quietest deep breath he could muster, he pulled that blanket to the side. Sure enough, like the maids said, you didn't stir, and much to his pleasure, you were wearing another one of those revealing nightgowns. With one leg slightly up, he could get a good glimpse of your round ass and your panties that seemed to be slipping between your moist lips.

He sucked in air through his teeth, taking in every inch of your body. Every curve, every soft piece of skin. He'd mentally promised himself this would be a one time thing. It felt awful invading your privacy like this, but his hormones were getting the better of him.

His cock was released from his pants and he began pumping it furiously. Biting his lip to hold back the moans once again, he watched the way your chest rose and fell as you slept. It only took a little bit and he was cumming, quicker than he ever had in his entire life and more intensely than he'd ever felt.

The rational part of his mind told him to leave no messes, so he made sure to cover the leaking tip of his cock with his hand to not spill his seed everywhere. Still, he couldn't help himself. He dipped a finger in his own cum, then pressed it against your slightly open mouth, wanting you to at least taste him a little.

The sight of you suckling that cum off his finger, lips pursed and wet with drool, the sight had him hard again already, but he decided against tempting fate. He'd finish himself off in his room again. This was a one time thing after all.

Was what he'd told himself, but he found himself in front of your door again, going to your room almost every night. It was like an addiction, standing in your room next to your sleeping form and fucking his cock into his hand while looking at you. And he grew bolder as the nights went on.

Moving your panties to the side to finally get a full view of that wet cunt, rubbing the tip of his cock against your lips to get you to suckle on it like before, he even managed to slip a finger inside your entrance, getting to feel your warm walls for the first time. The way you coated his fingers nearly made him grunt and he thrusted it in and out of you, watching your face contort in your sleep, little moans and mewls dropping from your lips.

Diluc imagined that it was his cock instead of his finger getting to fuck your pussy, that it was his cock making your eyebrows knit together and your fingers twitch. He could only imagine though, his other hand fisting his cock at the same pace as his finger.

He'd even gotten so bold as to start licking your cunt. His tongue poking out of his mouth, he'd tongue at your clit and watch you squirm in your sleep. Your taste was intoxicating, the juices your tight hole would secrete tasted better than what celestia would feel like, and while lapping up your folds between your legs, his dick would twitch and he'd cum inside his pants, completely untouched.

All good things must come to an end. A sad, but truthful statement. And Diluc wanted this to end. He really did. Each day he'd say that this would be the last one, that he wouldn't do this to you again, that it was becoming too risky, but sure enough he was back at your door the next day. He'd spend the whole night finding new ways to pleasure himself with your sleeping body.

All good things come to an end. Maybe he should've been thinking that when he arrived at your door on the night of a harsh thunderstorm. If his mind wasn't clouded by lust, if all his blood wasn't flowing to his lower regions, then maybe he would've remembered how particularly scared of thunderstorms you were. If his face wasn't buried between your legs again, then maybe he would've remembered the maids saying the only time you woke up easily, is when there was a storm and heavy wind outside. If he wasn't pumping his cock while licking at your pussy, going practically drunk from your taste, maybe he would've noticed that you'd begun to stir more than usual, more than out of a sleepy, unintentional pleasure.

The last thing Diluc was expecting was to look up and meet your gaze. With his lips still suctioned around your clit, your face was a mixture of disgust and mostly fear. Eyes wide and filled with tears, you opened your mouth, maybe to scream, maybe to yell at him, he didn't know. He was on top of you before you could let out a peep, one of his hands covering your mouth. After a bit of a struggle, he managed to use the other hand to hold both your wrists above your head.

“I'm- I'm sorry!” He gasped as you thrashed beneath him, but you were no match for his strength and all you were doing was wearing yourself out, “I-i swear! I don't know what came over me!”

But something has been coming over him for weeks, months even. If you knew how long he'd been doing this, you'd look at him in even more horror. Your eyes. So big and filled with tears, it only made his heart thump against his chest harder, but what else was he to do?

He laid on top of you, hand covering your mouth for what felt like hours, dick still twitching and conveniently between your folds. This was the worst time for him to be hard, not while you were awake. Not while you were scared of him to the point of crying, but he couldn't help it. It was you. You did this to him.

“I'm so so sorry,” he muttered as he angled his hips, the tip of his cock finally at your entrance. He didn't think your eyes could open any wider, but sure enough, they did when he forced every inch of himself inside you, bottoming out without stopping while pleading for your forgiveness. Your yelp, the noise you made as you were made to take him, was muffled by his palm, body squirming even more as you tried to get away.

He always said his first time with you would be gentle. It would be loving as passionate. He would take things slow and kiss every inch of you, to make sure you were ready for him. But the way you felt around him, the way you clenched around his length, it felt like his hips had a mind of their own as they started a rough, brutal pace. Slapping against yours so hard, even the headboard of the bed had begun to hit the wall.

“Fuck! Ahh! Fuck fuck! I'm so sorry! Hnng- please…ah! Please! I'm sorry,” he whined, but he didn't slow down for a second. You were so warm inside. So wet. This was made for him, he was sure of it, “Please, you- you hah- have to forgive me.”

You could thrash and squirm and cry as much as you wanted to, but Diluc had had his taste and he wouldn't be satisfied with any less anymore. He kept fucking into you, pounding you so hard, rutting his hips into you like an animal in heat.

You saw the way his eyelids flutter, you felt the way his hips stuttered, his pace grew sloppy, his grip loosened, drool fell from his lips, his moans grew breathier. You saw it all and you knew what was about to happen.

“Fuck,” he gasped between thrusts, eyes rolled back. He forced his dick as he could inside you, balls deep and held it there, feeling the way your silken walls contracted around it, “I'm gonna cum.”

There was no way to tell him no with his hand over your lips, so you were made to watch and feel in horror as he grew even more aggressive with his fucking. There were no thoughts behind his eyes, just pleasure, just lust and the primal urge to finish.

“Inside. Hah- aanh. Cumming inside, fuck!” He affirmed your fears through his filthy moans. His dick twitching inside you made your heart sink. You could feel it. The way his cum was spitting out of his length and hitting your walls. It felt neverending, like he'd stored so much waiting for this moment, some of it even spilling back out of your entrance and onto his balls.

Reality must've hit him after he came, because he was off of you in an instant. His length softened and his face filled with dread. Cum leaked onto your bedsheets, but despite the fact that he was no longer muffling you with his hands, you couldn't scream. You couldn't even think for a second as you realized what happened.

He looked just as scared as you did, but why? What gave him the right? Why did he deserve to be scared when he was the one who did it?

“I fucking hate you,” you spoke through strangled sobs and you watched his world crumble.

Those words felt like you were slicing his heart out and stabbing it over and over again. They made him tear up as well. But somehow, the sight of you, disheveled, with his seed leaking from your hole, somehow that made his dick twitch back to life. Even your crying face, while not as appealing as you sleeping peacefully, was gorgeous. Arousing even.

His cock twitched back to life as he looked upon you, half undressed and practically ready for him. He began a slow crawl towards you again, his urges wanting to take over once more. You already hated him. What was the harm in doing more?

#genshin #yandere genshin #genshin x reader #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x you #yandere diluc x reader #yandere diluc #diluc x reader #genshin diluc #genshin diluc x reader #yandere smut #diluc smut #mdni

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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months

Text

fixation

words: 2.8k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, male receiving oral, reader has an oral fixation

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @dream-pink

“baby i’m running out to the store real quick, do you want anything?” rafe asks, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he walks through the living room where you’ve been for the past hour, book splayed open in your lap.

“a sucker please? cherry or strawberry preferably.” you answer, only half paying attention to your boyfriend as your eyes continue to skim over the text.

“sure thing baby.” rafe says, tucking his wallet into his back pocket before heading out.

time flies as you get engrossed in your book, barely feeling like you’re reading and more that you’re inside of the book, part of the story.

“i didn’t know which kind, so i kinda got a bunch.” rafes voice makes you jump, not even realizing that he had returned from the store as he dumps a bag of suckers on the couch cushion next to you. your eyes widen at the 10 different kinds he brought back for you. you eye the group and then pick out your favorite, but really you didn’t dislike any of them.

“thank you rafey.” you hum, accepting his kiss when he leans down and presses one to your lips.

“i’m gonna head to the gym out back, since you’re still reading. you need anything else?” rafe asks, his hand cupping your jaw, thumb stroking over your cheek. you’re so unlike any other girl he has gone for in the past, but it’s why he loves you so much. you are smart, but so innocent when it comes to certain things and he loves to teach you and bring out your wilder side.

“i’m good, thank you.” you say again, pressing another kiss to his lips before rafe is out the back door. you’re surprised how quiet tanneyhill is today, but you’ve learned for the most part that all the members of the cameron family spend their days elsewhere, with eloise and sarah still in school, and ward and rose working most of the day away.

you unwrap your sucker before returning your attention to the book, feeling so much calmer now that you have something in your mouth. you reach the climax of the book, fingers rapidly turning the page until you get to the resolution, and then ultimately the end of the book.

you take a deep breath, letting in all that air you were holding from when the dramatic scenes were unfolding before setting the book onto the coffee table. you turn to pick up another sucker before realizing that you had subconsciously kept getting more, and you now only had one left, the rest reduced to white sticks.

you feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment even though no one is around, cleaning up your mess quickly but still unwrapping the sucker and sticking it in your mouth. you are just about to head out the gym, converted with weight machines and mirrors from a shed in the backyard, when rafe reenters.

“finished your book?” rafe asks, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat, hair sticking to his forehead.

“mhm.” you nod. “it was really good, i’m gonna rate it 4 stars on storygraph later.”

“glad you liked it baby.” rafe comes up and kisses your cheek, considering your mouth is still occupied by the cherry sucker. “if you want to put the rest of the suckers in the candy cabinet, you can.” rafe says, referring to the one cabinet in the cameron home stocked full with junk food, from chocolate to greasy chips.

“i- um…” you trail off before pressing your lips together.

“what?” rafe asks, a slight smile on his lips, loving when you get flustered like this.

“i kinda ate them all. i didn’t even realize i just kept sucking.” you shrug, averting your gaze from rafe, so you miss the smirk that comes to his face.

“does anyone want any gum?” kelce asks, opening up the package and taking a piece for himself.

“oh my god, me!” you say, reaching out when kelce offers one to you, a slight look of confusion on the desperation in your voice as you stick the minty gum into your mouth and begin to chew.

“i’ve been going crazy not having something in my mouth.” you say, turning your attention to rafe as kelce refocuses on the game. you’re not the biggest basketball fan, you find it entertaining enough to always agree when rafes asks you if you want to come with him and the boys, but you don’t understand most of the calls the refs make and the loud screaming from the crowd hurts your ears.

“you’re so precious, baby.” rafe says, pressing a few kisses to your cheek, leaving you to scrunch your eyebrows together, not sure what you did to gain that reaction but certainly not complaining.

you crunch the gum between your teeth, much happier now that you can focus on that and drown out some of the noise as you lean into rafe, his arm moving to be placed securely around your shoulders, up until the game comes down to a final shot, whipped from halfcourt towards the basket as the timer counts down, the ball ultimately swishing through the rim, making the entire crowd jump to their feet as the team gets the buzzer beater.

“that was exciting!” you tell rafe as you head out of the building, your hand encapsulated in his. “thanks for letting me along on boys night.” you call to topper and kelce.

“happy to have you.” topper says with a friendly smile, making rafe tighten his grip on your hand slightly.

“do we have any popsicles?” you ask, fanning your face with your hand, the bright sun beating down on the boat.

“yeah, should be in the cooler in back.” rafe says, gesturing towards the back of the yacht as he continues to steer the boat to the place he wants to anchor for the day to fish.

“mmkay thanks.” you say, getting up off the captains bench, where you always sat with rafe so he could keep a close eye on you while he also paid attention to the water in front of him. “you want one?” “nah, thanks though baby.” rafe glances away for a moment to look at you, his eyes soft. “hurry back though.” you smile, knowing he’s only being so strict with you because he loves you. you rush to the back of the boat, digging into the cooler for a red popsicle before returning to take your place next to rafe.

“are you too hot? you should drink water too.” rafe says, placing one hand on your thigh while he steers the boat with the other.

“nah, just wanted something cool in my mouth.” you say, too focused on the sun glimmering off the water in front of you to notice that rafe has to readjust himself in his shorts.

“gonna try this spot first.” rafe says, slowing the boat to a stop. you get up and move to where you know he’s going to fish from. you used to offer to help anchor, but you know rafe would never let you get your hands dirty.

“are you good princess?” rafe asks once everything is done, fishing pole and tackle box in hand.

“all good.” you nod, already having gotten a second popsicle from the cooler.

“what is it?” rafe asks.

“huh?” you question, taking your thumb out of your mouth that you didn’t even realize you were sucking on until rafe spoke up.

“you keep sucking on your fingers and you’ve got that look in your eyes. are you nervous for something, doll?” rafe asks, his voice soft and genuine.

“midsummers.” you pout, making rafe tilt his head to the side. he’s such a confident man, especially in social situations. he’s charming and outgoing, meanwhile you prefer to keep to yourself and watch things from afar, but it’s impossible with rafe, he’s always the center of attention in any room, like all the lights shine on him.

“i’m gonna be with you the whole time.” rafe says, not even having to ask why you’d be nervous for the big party.

“i know, i still hate the idea of all those eyes on me.” you shudder, sticking your thumb back into your mouth to provide some comfort.

“if you need to leave, we can leave after making an appearance.” rafe says, knowing he’d get shit for not sticking around longer, but he doesn’t care, you come first, always.

“thanks rafey.” you say, slightly muffled by your thumb in your mouth.

“i love you, baby.” rafe leans in, pressing a kiss to your jaw before pulling you onto his lap, letting you relax against him, eyes fluttering close as the sucking on your thumb eventually slows as you fall to sleep curled up in his arms.

“can we stop and get some gum? or a sucker?” you ask rafe, hands nervously twitching in your lap.

“baby, we are on a tight schedule we can’t be making stops for candy.” rafe says with a sigh, wishing he could accommodate you, but he knew he’d be in a rush ever since he stayed in bed this morning for an extra fifteen minutes to cuddle and kiss you.

“barry is late all the time, i don’t even know why you have to be on time to meet him.” you complain.

“don’t be a brat.” rafe says, already stressed out. sure, barry is often late, but rafe has different expectations of himself, and if he says he’s going to meet barry at a certain time, you can be damn sure that he will be there on time, if not five minutes early.

you cross your arms over your chest, not bothering to hide your annoyance from your boyfriend.

“here, you just wanna suck on something, go ahead and suck on my finger.” rafe says, gripping the steering wheel with one hand while he shoves his finger towards your mouth.

you would say no, but that really is all you want, so you pull your knees up to your chest and rest rafes wrist against your knees, sticking his finger into your mouth, moaning slightly around it at the pure relief of having something to focus on while rafe speeds down the backroads.

you suck on his finger, swirl your tongue around it, even gently press your teeth down on it, all while rafe sits there, cock swelling in his jeans while he wishes it to stay down, not needing to greet barry with a hard on, especially when you’re so blissfully unaware of the effect your mouth is having on him.

“alright we are almost there.” rafe says, making you whine when he takes his hand away, again reaching down to adjust his crotch, not sure how much longer he can put up with this.

“can we go to the store and buy a sucker? or maybe get some ice cream?” you ask, hands pawing at rafes chest as you lay in bed.

“come on, i just wanna stay here all day.” rafe says with a yawn. you were both up late partying, but you were getting bored of just sitting in bed all day, even if you do like being pressed up against your boyfriend.

“give me your fingers again then.” you reach out for his hand, but rafe snatches it away.

“i have something else you can suck on.” rafe says, making your head quirk to the side, inquisitive.

“you trust me, right?” rafe says, which you of course eagerly nod to. you trust rafe more than anyone else, so when he raises his hips and lowers his sweatpants down his legs before kicking them off to the floor, you don’t feel the same nervousness that you usually do.

“you want me to… give you head?” you swallow thickly. “i told you i’ve never done it before.” you’ve had sex with rafe before, but the focus was always on you, how he could bring your body to pleasure, how he fit inside of you.

“i know, but you’re always wanting to suck on something.” rafe shrugs. “might as well suck on my dick. besides, i’ll teach you.”

“o-okay.” you nod, eyes flicking between meeting rafes gaze and his length, clearly obvious and straining against the fabric of his underwear.

“now, i’m already hard just because i always am being around you, but why don’t you explore a bit with your mouth over my underwear, hm?” rafe says. you nod, figuring the best thing to do if you felt nervous was following his directions, afterall, he hasn’t led you astray in the past.

you slide down the bed until you’re laid on your stomach between his legs. you start with kisses around his underwear, before planting one on his length, kissing down the shaft until you reach where you presume his head is. you flick your tongue out, giving an experimental lick that makes rafe moan, so you double down on your effort, pushing your tongue against the fabric, creating a wet spot.

“that-that feels really good.” rafe says, his voice so breathless, causing you to look up at him, his eyes glazed over with lust.

you take matters into your own hand upon seeing how turned on you’re making him. you always let him finger you, or eat you out, or fuck you to orgasm, but you’ve never done the same to him in return, mostly because you are inexperienced. so, you pull his underwear down suddenly, allowing his cock to spring up.

you don’t give yourself any time to feel insecure as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, making rafe curse and bring a hand down to grip your hair, but he doesn’t shove you down, knowing you’re not ready for that and will move at your own pace.

you rub your tongue against him, surprised by how much you like the taste as you try to move your mouth down some, to take more of him. you succeed for the most part until you have to pull off to take a breath.

“baby, when i cum you can pull off that way it doesn’t go all in your mouth.” rafe says, wanting to warn you now before he gets too wrapped up in the feeling of your warm tongue to forget his words.

“and what if i want you all in my mouth?” you question, sinking your lips around him again, trying to go deeper again before you start to suck, having had lots of practice with your suckers and popsicles. you may have never given head before, but you know to keep your teeth away from his sensitive skin, so you hope that means you’re doing a good job.

“breathe thr-fuck. breathe through your nose, baby, it’ll help.” rafe says, reminding you. you give a hum around his length in acknowledgement, making rafe let out another curse.

you try it again, sucking and then humming, sucking and then humming, and clearly from the look on rafes face, he likes the vibrations on his cock.

you pull off after a minutes, licking around the base of his cock and slowly moving up, wanting to taste every inch of him. you get back to the head and notice he’s leaking slightly out of his tip, which you quickly dart up with your tongue, making rafes hips raise up, pushing his cock against your tongue.

“you’re so fucking good at this.” rafe moans, one hand still gripping your hair while the other is fisted in the bedsheets, trying his best to hold back from shoving your head down onto his cock and fucking your mouth.

“i’ve got lots of practice with sucking things.” you giggle before taking him into your mouth again, bobbing your head as you suck, flicking your tongue over his head every time you pull back.

you decide again to try to take more of him into his mouth now that you’ve gotten more comfortable, but you swear rafe has swelled as you can’t take nearly as much as before.

“baby-i-close-i-” rafe stutters out, pushing your lips further, causing his cock to push into your throat as he releases to your tongue softly licking his length even you gag.

you feel rafe release, thick ropes of cum lining your insides as you swallow down repeatedly until he’s dry, completely milked free of cum. you pull off with a cough, rafes hands dropping limply to his sides.

“god, your mouth is amazing.” rafe moans.

you smile at the praise, glowing under his words. you look to the cock in front of you, now softening against his thigh.

“can we do that again?” you ask, quirking your head to the side.

“absolutely.” rafe nods. “once i recover. why don’t we get you a sucker until i can get hard again?”

#rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron one shot #obx fanfiction #obx fic

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perlelune · 1 month

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Glory And Gore | Feyd-Rautha

The trip to Giedi Prime you take with your mother should have been a mere diplomatic gesture. Instead, you find yourself prey to the inevitability of fate as it sinks its claws into your flesh.

Warnings: NON-CON, Deception, Parental Neglect, Cannibalism, Mutilation, Bene Gesserit Reader, Knives, Murder, Forced Marriage, Primal Kink

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

“I don’t want to.”

“You must.”

“Mother-”

“Use it!”

The authority dripping from your mother’s voice has you shrinking in your chair. You lift your gaze. A shudder slithers through your frame. Your fingers squeeze around the armrests, gripping so tightly you can feel the iciness seeping into your veins.

You study your mother’s face.

An unsettling realization crashes over you.

You no longer are looking into your mother’s eyes…but at the Bene Gesserit. You steel your features and iron your resolve.

You swallow a deep, calming breath.

“Give me the blade,” you repeat, for perhaps the hundredth time that morning. The exact count has evaporated amidst your heated nerves long ago. Your mother is unyielding today, pushing you further than she ever has before. While her purpose eludes you, the urgency etched in her manner from the moment she tore you from bed that day doesn’t. Today, your mother will not settle for surrender. She demands results.

Results for all the years she spent drilling the Bene Gesserit ways into you.

There is no hint of being swayed in your mother, her handle on the dagger unwavering. No twitching. No slackening of her grip. Your spirits dim.

“Again,” she barks.

Pearls of sweat gather on your brow as you strain your mind once more. The humming courses through your blood, the echo of power swelling in your mind. Fiery tendrils trickle through the veil of hesitation and nervousness.

You grasp at the threads, the fleeting wisps of control, pulling on them with all your might. Still, they slip through your fingers like sand. Frustration flares inside you with every attempt.

You persevere, enduring through the agony bleeding inside your mind. Through the liquid fire sweeping through your veins.

You meet your mother’s harsh stare.

“Give…me…the blade…” you articulate, injecting every bit of hazy conviction glowing inside you.

For a while, you and your mother hold each other’s gaze. A battle of wills. An ephemeral, pathetic one that ends as it always does…with your mother snickering at your failure.

She shoots up from the chair, exasperation evident in the drawn-out sigh she unleashes.

“No willpower. Just fear,” she says, pacing across the room.

“Apologies, mother,” you mutter, lowering your head in shame.

The Voice. The damned Voice. In eighteen years, you have never mastered it.

She approaches you, kneeling in front of your chair.

“Child, you must never fear, because fear…”

“...Is death,” you finish. The Bene Gesserit words are woven into the very fabric of your mind, for you have uttered them so many times since childhood.

She places her forehead against yours, cupping your cheeks.

The combination of your two voices echoes in the room.

“Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me…”

As you recite the familiar prayer, a wave of serenity swaddles you in its calming tide.

Your eyes flutter open.

Your mother’s fingers wrap around yours.

“Reverend Mother will see you tomorrow.”

“So soon?”

“You are of age. It is time.”

“Time for what?”

A shadow flits across her eyes.

“For the Gom Jabbar.”

“Gom…Jabbar.” A crease appears on your forehead. “What is it?”

A tense smile spreads on her face, her grip on your hand growing tighter.

“You will learn soon enough,” she says.

Rest eludes you that night, your mother’s words weighing too heavy on your mind for it to float away in peaceful slumber. Tormented by nightmares, you toss and turn between your sheets.

A beast chasing you, its claws sharp and long…Like knives. Darkness creeping on your every step. Fire shooting through your veins.

The world in flames, while you burn alongside it.

You awake drenched in your own sweat.

Hugging your knees, you lean against the headboard. You stare ahead. Moonlight drizzles through your carved window, casting shapes of silvery light against your walls. The same granite walls you have known since childhood. Usually so familiar, comforting. Today the sight of them reminds you how utterly alone you are.

Your thoughts churn, the storm of doubt and gloom within you grazing its peak.

Per custom, you are a disappointment to both your mother and the Sisterhood. The Voice. The Weirding Way. No matter which skill your mother and the myriad of Bene Gesserit teachers you had over the years attempted to drill into you…you failed to master every single one.

It’s not for lack of trying on your part. You wish you knew why. Why your voice always cracks. Why your hand always falters. Your mother has never given hope to lure a steel-mindedness out of you that was simply…never there. No part of you wishes to bend others to your whim or cause harm. You don’t crave control or power. Only serenity and peace.

The next day springs forth in a haste, the blinding light of the sun arriving too quickly for your comfort. There is a deliberate languid nature to your motions as you get dressed, fussing with your hair and dress. A pointless attempt at delaying the inevitable.

Gom Jabbar. You mulled the words over and over in your non-sleep. Mighty oppressor or mighty enemy. The translations from Chaksobar to Galach are plentiful. While you don’t know what awaits you on the other side of the door, from your mother’s pinched expression the day before…unpleasantness is guaranteed.

You trudge inside the dark room, a chill shooting through your spine at the sight of the still figure of Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam sitting in the middle. Her pale, weathered features, wrinkled and creased like ancient parchment, stand out amidst the unsettling gloominess ahead. Even behind the black veil, the older woman radiates an aura of ancient, mystic power, her presence both fascinating and intimidating.

No word unfurls from her tongue at first, her keen, bird-like eyes assessing you. Despite the urge to cower, you hold your chin high and stiffen your spine.

“Your Reverence,” you greet, bowing so low your nose almost grazes the tiled floor.

“Come closer, child.”

Your feet move on their own before you even register the command. Shock pulses though you as you approach the Reverend Mother. The Voice…She used the Voice on you. No Bene Gesserit ever did that before. None would even dare. Not on a Count’s daughter.

You land in front of her, stunned and shivering.

She collects a viridian metal fox from beneath her robes, its eerie light glowing ominously in the darkness. Your heart stutters as you note the chasm inside the box, a lightless void reflecting nothing but complete blackness.

“Put your right hand in the box,” she orders.

Her tone is bereft of the thrall of the Voice now. Willing compliance... you realize this is what she wishes from you. You stare at the pitch blackness inside of the box, the sight alone stirring your unease. Hesitation limns your fingertips.

“I…”

The Reverend Mother’s firm voice booms across the air like thunder.

“Is this the respect you show to your elders?” she roars.

You flinch. Shameful heat lurks its way inside your cheeks. Mother would be embarrassed if she saw you now, denying the Reverend Mother herself, the Emperor’s Truthsayer.

You inhale a wide breath and place a tremulous hand inside the metal box. As the darkness engulfs your appendage, a cold wave creeps over it. The prick of a needle on your fingers follows closely. Sensations vanish from your hand, only an odd numbness remaining.

The old woman’s gaze sharpens. Her wrinkled hand shoots upward with a quickness that leaves you speechless, halting right beside your neck.

A glimpse of metal beckons you from the corner of your vision. Temptation to turn your head simmers within you but an instinct set deeply into your bones screeches at you not to move.

You yield to to the second hunch.

“I hold at your neck the Gom Jabbar,” she informs. “The high-handed enemy.”

“Poisoned needle?” you absently wonder.

You catch the shadow of a smile through the black veil.

“Your mother did say you were a clever one.” She tilts her head slightly, reminding you of a vulture circling its prey, gauging the right moment to swoop down and sink its claws. “A soft heart with a sharp mind.” Dread coils around your heart. “The test is simple, girl. Your hand must remain in the box. Keep it in the box, you live. Withdraw it, you die.”

“What’s in the box?”

“Pain.”

Tingles begin to spread.

Your breath snags, needles starting to dig across the back of your hand. But unlike before, the sensation lingers this time. Growing and growing. Uncomfortable at first, then unbearable. Then, it turns blatantly hellish. Fire licks your flesh, the flames causing your entire body to break out in sweat and your breaths to come out labored and uneven.

Pain such as this cannot be of this world, you begin to think.

The kind that grows more vile and intense every second. You writhe, tears rushing to your eyes. Your free hand clutches your stomach, twisting the flesh in desperate need of an anchor amidst the unnatural agony. The room fogs around you, your quick, panicked breaths and the wild drumming of your heart filling your ears.

The longing for death comes and goes, the impulse to withdraw your hand teetering over a precipice. At least, death would bring release from the unfathomable pain.

Blessed freedom. You nearly surrender to that wayward instinct. Nearly.

In the end however, the acute, overwhelming awareness of the lethal needle less than an inch from your neck keeps your hand inside the box.

“An animal in pain would chew its own leg to escape a trap,” The Reverend mother says calmly, unfazed by your tears and sobs. “But a human would bide its time, suffer through the agony until he might remove the threat to his kind. This is a test of humanity. This is what us Bene Gesserit do. Set humans apart from animals.”

An eternity in the pits of hells seems to drag along before she gives you permission to withdraw your hand, her hand dropping from your neck.

“Enough,” she says.

You tear your hand out of the box with a trembling exhale, astonished when your gaze tumbles upon smooth, unharmed skin. You turn it upside down, flabbergasted. It looks the same. Yet the furnace within the box made the burning feel so real, so vividly, terrifyingly real, that you were convinced the flesh and bones were devoured by the flames. You expected a lump of bleeding, smoking flesh. In disbelief, you fold your fingers several times. You wince. Phantom pain still sits in your hand, your nerves alight with embers of ache.

Suppressing a fresh surge of tears, you lift your eyes to the Truthsayer.

“Your tolerance for pain is sufficient,” she states. “Congratulations, child. You are human enough to serve our purposes.” She hums in thought, a sliver of satisfaction seeping through her solemn inflection. “You may not be a complete waste of genetic material after all.”

“You almost failed the test, I hear.”

You shift in the bench opposite your mother, her imperious tone ripping the wound of your glaring incompetence open once more.

Your attention wanders above the closing gate of the starship. You commit the luxurious plains of your planet to memory. Your chest twinges with preemptive melancholy. From what you heard, Giedi Prime is a dry, depleted rock where trees are replaced by rows of factories and metal skyscrapers which only blot out the dusky skies even more. A nightmare from the sounds of it. Though your mother insisted you join her on the trip, arguing your presence is key to the success of the treaty.

So you swallowed your reluctance and agreed to come.

“I thought I would lose my hand,” you mumble, your fingers clenching. The awe over the flawless state of your limb hasn’t left you.

“Her Reverence would never maim a prospect,” your mother argues.

You nod, gaze colliding with hers.

“Just kill them if they fail to prove their humanity?”

You still recall the sharp, poison-dipped tip pointed at your neck. The oppressive weight of impending death nipping at your flesh.

The line between surrender and success had been thin. Too thin.

Your mother’s stern brow furrows.

“Pain is always a possibility…One you must embrace.”

“Why? Isn’t the Gom Jabbar a singular occurrence?”

Instead of answering you, your mother lifts a black, oblong chest from beside her. You noticed it before but forgot to inquire about its purpose.

The metal and dark accents of the object mimics the Harkonnen style. Your fingers sweep over the symbols engraved on the box.

“What is it?” you ask.

“Open it.”

You do as instructed. The inside of the chest reveals a set of knives, a long obsidian one and a short silvery one. The blades glimmer as you lift them, their sharp edges catching the artificial light of the cockpit.

“They were forged from the finest steel on Alderan,” your mother says. You give a puzzled stare. Your mother elaborates, “You must gift them to the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen upon arrival. For his coming of age.”

Right. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s birthday celebration. You were told there would be a grand spectacle in the arena, that he was a great warrior, revered and admired by his people…perhaps even more than his uncle the Baron Vladimir. Day after day before the trip, your mother has impressed upon you the importance of attendance, of embracing the Harkonnen customs as if born into them. Every single one, however uncanny, crude or brutal.

So, much as the concept of spilling blood for entertainment repulses you…you shelf your disgust for now. Personal feelings must capitulate to diplomacy.

Your critical eye sweeps over the knives. These must have cost a fortune. Sinister beauty and artful skill fused in ominous synergy inside a finely made instrument of death.

“It’s fine craftsmanship,” you say. Your fingertip drags across the curved edge. A crease appears on your forehead. “But the edges…they could be sharper.” Your eyes light up. “I could finish before we land.”

You sift through one the heaps of precious stones and minerals lining the walls of the cockpit.

Victory floods your being as you find what you sought. A flat whetstone that shall serve your purpose well. You find a spot on the floor and begin your task. The knives shine brighter with every swift glide of your hand.

The frown on your face deepens.

“I hope the Baron’s nephew is pleased with our gift.”

You know next to nothing of him. Though you surmise if your families are to start trading with each other, getting along would be wiser.

Your mother smiles at you though it fails to reach her eyes.

“I have no doubt he will be very pleased with all the gifts you bring him, daughter.”

The frosty, pollution-heavy winds of the lifeless planet whip your face as you set foot outside the car. Your eyes roam over the large building housing the Harkonnen arena. The imposing structure casts an intimidating shadow against the nebulous, gray sky above it. Dormant volcanoes peek through the horizon in the distance, the only remnants of natural landscapes.

Hopelessness surges through you.

Despite having landed less than an hour ago, a fierce longing for Alderan’s endless green fields and snowy mountain peaks roars inside you. Every cell in your body screams to go back inside the ship and return home.

But you can’t. Such a display of rudeness would be a disaster for diplomatic relations. So you plaster on a smile and ignore the potent stench wafting around you.

You exert meticulous sovereignty over your expression when the Baron floats toward you and your mother. Nothing could have prepared you for this. The sight of the bald, massive man hovering towards you and your mother in his suspensor chair.

The floating figure of the baron stops in front of you and your mother. A circle of servants, clad in black clothing, follows behind him. You note their bowed heads, the way their eyes never rise high enough to look directly at you or your mother. A brand marks their necks, one you recognize as the sigil of House Harkonnen. You’re reminded how ubiquitous the slave trade is on Giedi Prime. Your mother mentioned it but the harsh reality of it didn’t strike you until now.

“Welcome to Giedi Prime,” Baron Vladimir greets. His gristly tone surprises you, eliciting a chill across your spine you swiftly suppress.

“My Lord,” your mother says, sinking into a graceful bow.

You mimic her. The baron leers at you.

“She is even more exquisite in person.”

You recoil, the glint in his calculating stare stirring your unease.

Your mother’s gaze sweeps across her surroundings.

“The na-Baron isn’t in attendance?”

“My dear nephew is preparing himself in the gladiator pit. There are rituals we Harkonnen observe upon one’s coming of age.” Your mother nods.

The baron smirks, his focus swinging to you. “Perhaps you could pay him a visit, little one?”

You clutch the small chest in your hands.

“I…”

“Go on,” your mother urges, shoving you forward.

You gasp, almost tripping in your shock. The baron’s commanding voice rises.

“Slave!”

One the cowering servants leaps from the circle.

“Yes, sire?” the boy mumbles.

“Escort the girl to my nephew at once.”

The servant approaches you. His gaze briefly lifts before finding the floor again. A pang of empathy twists in your chest as you note the fear etched in the servant’s eye. You find yourself wondering what these eyes have witnessed, what horrors lurk on the wretched rock.

“Follow me, my Lady,” he says.

As you’re led away from the welcoming party, you toss a glance at your mother above your shoulder. The message written in her eyes and stern expression is clear as lake water.

Do not cast a veil of shame upon our house. Remember your duty.

Sucking a deep breath, you turn away.

You and your retinue of two guards and an attending maid are taken to the bowels of the arena. A horrid stench clings to the walls as you trudge through the dim walls. It grows more potent the closer you get to the pit. Your chest heaves. The urge to empty the meager contents of your stomach in the sand tickles your dry throat. You quell your disdain with a shake of your head.

You are here to present your house in a positive light, help Father’s treaty with House Harkonnen be a success.

As you enter the room, you get your first look at Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. Warmth finds your cheeks. He’s almost bare, his rippling, pale muscles on full display. Two servant girls paint broad, black strokes over his carved back. The dark color stands out against his alabaster skin. Not a stray hair covers him and you suppose he’s as smooth-skinned and hairless as the rest of his kind.

When his dark gaze settles on you, you take tremulous steps forward.

You open the chest and present the knives to him.

“This is a gift for you, Lord na-Baron Feyd-Rautha,” you say, your voice cracking at the end.

Silence hangs for what seems eons, Feyd-Rautha cocking his head as he gauges you. It takes every ounce of bravery inside you not to flinch. His presence alone has every hair on your body stand at attention.

There’s a cold intensity in his glare, a tautness on his slender features.

You feel as prey being assessed. The urge to run itches your flesh. Your mother’s quiet warning echoes in your head. Remember your duty. You dig your feet into the ground, willing your roaring pulse to steady.

You hear him speak for the first time. His voice is hoarse and deep. Like the scratching of a stone over a sharp object.

“Would you like some fresh meat, my darlings? Lungs, a liver, perhaps?” he offers, smirking at three women sitting in a corner of the room. Their inky, whiteless orbs and ravenous grins send a chill through your spine.

His eyes fall on the knives inside the chest. His hand sweeps over the blades, an odd gesture almost reminiscent of a lover’s caress. He places the silver knife against his tongue, as if to taste the sharpness of the weapon. You shudder as you watch him, a foreboding feeling spreading across your flesh.

For a brief span of time, the well of your buried childhood memories tugs you to its depths. You recall a day when you were little. Your father took you hunting in the forests of Alderan. You chased a butterfly and got lost. You fell across a field. When you rose, you were nose to nose with a fierce predator. It stared at you a while, so still as its slanted, yellow gaze pinned you to your spot that you thought you were safe. You didn’t notice the calculated way it was prowling towards you, its maw opening slowly in anticipation of its next meal. The gift of tender, unsuspecting flesh. It’s not until your father speared the creature with his sword that you realized the jaws of death almost closed in on you. As it sprawled across the field, it unleashed an ear-piercing dying howl.

You were struck with shock that day.

A similar shock rocks you to your core when Feyd-Rautha slices the throat of one of the servant girls at his side and stabs the other repetitively. Time freezes as the lifeless bodies of the slave girls hit the sand with a loud thud.

Speckles of dark blood stain the bottom of your light tunic.

Your wide gaze lands on the other slave girl, tucked in a corner of the room. You watch her shrink in fear, the quaking in her hands so intense she nearly drops the tray she’s holding.

Horror fills you. She isn’t wondering if she’ll be next…but when.

Feyd-Rautha’s attention swings back to you. Dread coils around your heart.

“Hm, these are shockingly adequate,” he purrs appreciatively, grabbing the other knife from the chest.

It’s hard focusing on his words. Behind him, the three bald-headed women are swooping down on the poor servant girls’ corpses like vultures ripping a carcass to shreds. One of them pulls out a knife and slices the girl open from neck to gut. They bury their hands inside the girl’s body and grab fistfuls of her soft insides that they greedily shove into their mouths. Pieces of guts and dripping flesh jut from their pale lips, trickling down their chins and necks.

One of the women catches you staring and flashes you a blood-drenched, black grin.

You shudder. The maid at your side chokes on a sob, her hand flying across her mouth. Even your guards are appalled by the display, one of them averting his eyes.

A whispery croak slips through your lips.

“I s-sharpened them myself this morning,” you say, your fingers tightening around the chest.

A crooked smile unfurls on the na-Baron’s lips.

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises, pet.”

His smile expands. “How rude of me,” he says, tossing a casual glance at the ghoulish spectacle behind him. The women are still gleefully feasting on the slain slave girls. “Would you like a bite as well?” His mirthful gaze flicks over your heaving chest. “Fresh heart, perhaps?”

You swallow past the lump in your throat, forcing a placid smile onto your face.

“I-I’m quite alright, my Lord. I already ate.” The chomping noises of the cannibalistic women rises, one of them tearing into the slave girl’s side with her sharp nails.

Sickness spreads through your being. You avert your gaze.

“I shall leave you to get ready for your entrance, my Lord,” you stammer as you give a quick bow.

“I look forward to our next meeting, my Lady,” Feyd-Rautha says, the amusement never leaving his face as you scurry out of the room.

A tremor still lingers in your hands as you join your mother in the golden box above the triangular arena. The moment you sit at her side, she questions you.

“So, what did you think of him?”

“Who?” you reply, feigning ignorance.

She sighs. “Feyd-Rautha.”

You press your lips. The crowd chants his name as he steps into the arena, clutching the blades you gifted him at his sides. He walks slowly, with purpose. Yet there’s a hint of tedium in his haughty gait. As if today was no different than any other day for him, and the taking of more lives were nothing more than a mere footnote in his long list of tasks for the evening.

Sadist. Psychopath. Deranged.

These are some of the few choice words that surge inside your mind in response to your mother’s inquiry.

You utter none of them.

“Why does it matter? Our stay on Giedi Prime will be short, will it not?”

You peer through the binoculars your mother hands you. There’s a gut-wrenching brutality to the na-Baron’s practiced motions.

You watch him cut down two Atreides gladiator-slaves with ease. It’s clear something has been done to the men, their wobbly, confused steps through the arena a painful scene to witness.

Your chest seizes every time his blade tears into the poor mens’ flesh. He snarls after a series of successful strikes, seeming more beast than human when he bares a row of black teeth.

A shiver ripples through your spine.

“You must keep an open mind,” your mother heeds.

The last gladiator-slave is different. You note it right away. There’s a lethal precision in his movements that was amiss in the other Atreides soldiers. Panic swarms the golden box. Baron Vladimir’s advisor begs him to cancel the fight.

“This one isn’t drugged,” he says, fear lacing his tone.

“This will spoil my nephew’s birthday,” the baron rumbles, dismissing the man with a withering glare. He remains disturbingly calm. “Show me who you are, dear nephew.”

You take a deep breath. The rest of the fight veers to an unusual route. Feyd-Rautha removes his body shield, welcoming the challenge the Atreides soldier offers with open arms.

A psychotic smile decorates his lips as he fights for his life. For the first time since the fight began, he comes alive in the arena.

The vicious trading of blow after blow has bile rising to your throat. Unable to stomach it any longer, you bolt to your feet and mumble a rushed apology to the Baron.

“I shall retire to my chambers,” you say.

As you exit the golden box, the excited clamor of the crowd as they scream Feyd-Rautha’s name follows your hasty steps.

You sneak a glance through the high, blue doors. The sight inside the vast hall has your blood curdling. Debauchery the likes of which you have never witnessed unfolds before your eyes. A peculiar blend of orgy and slaughter occurs in the hall. You’re failing to comprehend what you’re seeing, relief coursing through you that you refused the Baron’s invitation.

Once more, you are stunned by the vast cultural differences between your people and the Harkonnens. Sickened, you step away from the doors. Twisted curiosity led you there, and blatant disgust will take you straight back to your room.

The dusky, barren walls of the Harkonnen keep are a stark contrast to the colorful tapestries that can be found all over Castle Alderan.

Homesickness tugs at your heart strings. This alien world is hostile, wretched. You long for the familiarity of your bed and the warm, soothing winds of your planet.

As you roam the hallways, a prickling across your nape has you whirl.

Your sight fills with Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.

Your chest clenches. Your head whips around, a fresh urgency livening your steps.

“Should you not be celebrating your grand victory, my Lord?”

“Frivolous pleasures do little to sate me,” he says, easily keeping up with you. His gravelly baritone ripples across your spine. “This isn’t for me…It’s for them. And my uncle knows it.” His arm brushes yours. You bristle. Amusement bleeds in his tone. “Where are you running off to, pet?”

Pet. You tense at the belittling moniker, the one he forcefully bestowed upon you.

“To my chambers. The evening has exhausted me.”

“You left early.”

You cast a puzzled frown upon him.

“In the arena," he specifies.

Your fingers curl into fists. The unfairness of what you witnessed still staggers you. The Atreides soldiers weren’t given a chance. Pigs led to their inevitable slaughter. And Feyd-Rautha plucked joy from their misery, seeing every slave as a tool to satisfy his unquenchable thirst for blood.

“I have no stomach for violence, my Lord.”

A humming sound pours from his throat.

“Perhaps it was careless then.”

Confusion flutters through you.

“Careless?”

A wicked smile tilts his lips skyward.

“Of my uncle to hand me such a delicate flower…one whose petals are bruised so easily.”

You let out a hollow laugh, dread gripping your insides. Loathing the way his dark gaze slides over your frame, you set your eyes forward.

“You say such strange things, my lord.”

“Do I?” He adds casually, “After all, you were promised to me.”

Your heart falters, missing a beat. He must be drunk, you ponder, in a feeble attempt to placate yourself with reassurance.

“Perhaps you ought to sleep the evening off, my lord. I believe victory may have gotten to your head, warped your perception.”

His sinister chuckle bounces against the walls.

“A pet with a sharp tongue. How fortuitous.”

It’s the only warning you receive before he snatches your wrist and slams you into a nearby wall.

You gasp. He pins your wrists beside your head, trapping you between him and the wall. You squeal, eyes bulging at the abrupt impact. You can already feel bruises form beneath his steely grip.

You fight to get free but he doesn’t budge. Sadistic enjoyment contorts his features as he admires your fruitless struggle.

He leans close to you. Your pulse soars.

“What are you doing?”

His lids sag as he drinks you in.

“Well…sampling my other gift, of course,” he whispers, lust oozing in his voice.

His mouth crashes over yours. You go dizzy. The kiss is bruising, staggeringly possessive. A brutal, sloppy clash of lips, teeth and tongue. You give his lip a harsh bite but it only draws a cheerful laugh from Feyd-Rautha. The acrid tang of metal coats your tongue. He moans against your lips and starts exploring your curves.

As his hands pluck at your soft flesh, fear surges through you.

“Let me go,” you scream, trying to use the Voice. There’s a flicker in his eyes and you feel hope…but it swiftly vanishes. One of his hands fastens around your throat while the other charts a dangerous path under your tunic. His fingers crudely poke and prod the apex of your thighs.

Your panic swells.

“Unhand me this instant!” you shout, a trickle of power rushing in your words.

Feyd-Rautha shakes his head, your thrall only seeming to last a few seconds. Mirth shimmers in his inky orbs as he studies you.

“Are you trying to use Bene Gesserit tricks on me?” The hand around your throat tightens. You claw at his arms, your vision flickering as he taunts, “Why don’t you try again, little witch?” He sinks two fingers through your dry entrance. Tears swim in your eyes at the aching, sudden stretch. His cruel voice flows against your temple. “Perhaps I ought to slice your tongue and shove it down your throat for our wedding.”

The hammering of your heart grows deafening. You swallow your tears and look into his eyes. You gather a thin breath to speak.

“Back away…” you croak weakly, desperation flailing inside your chest.

He gives a slow blink. To your surprise, the hand around your throat slackens. His eyes narrow as he leans away from you, a dazed expression on his face. You don’t take time to bask in fleeting relief, racing to your mother’s room as soon as his hands aren’t on you anymore.

Once you reach your mother’s chambers, you fling yourself into her arms.

Her arms wrap around your shuddering frame. She caresses your hair, gently whispering, “Daughter, the hour is so late…Is something the matter?”

You release a shaky breath, sinking further into her embrace.

“May we return to the ship? Go back home?”

“Why?”

You cast a tearful gaze towards her.

“Haven’t we done our duty, mother? Is it not enough?”

A long weary breath flows from her lips. Her hands curl around yours. She takes a deep breath before speaking again.

Her face becomes stern, impenetrable.

“Apologies, sweet child. We cannot.”

You search her harsh gaze. A heavy silence settles between the two of you. You retreat, horror clogging your airways as unsaid words hang in the air.

“Mother…What have you done?” you mumble, a fresh wave of tears breaking past your lashes.

“You are to marry Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen in three days’ time,”she bluntly announces. Your jaw drops as you take another step back. “All the arrangements have already been made.”

Your voice trembles.

“And Father agreed?”

“It was his idea, approved by the Reverend Mother herself.”

The deepest pits of hell welcome your plummeting heart. You sink to the floor, the weight of your kin’s treachery growing too heavy to bear.

“And you did not speak against it?” you mutter, disbelief confining your breath.

Your mother falls to her knees, joining you on the floor.

She cradles your face. “It is your destiny. We are Bene Gesserit. We exist only to serve.”

“He is a monster.”

“I’m afraid it’s irrelevant.”

A sharp breath spills from your throat. Your head snaps up.

“Is this all I am to the Sisterhood?” You unleash a dry laugh. “A broodmare to be sold and used to further their plans? To you and father…”

Her mouth wobbles. “Our way is not to question, but to answer when duty calls.”

You bring a quivering hand to your throat. You can still feel his harsh fingers crushing your windpipe.

“Do you see what he has done to me?”

“Mother, please…”

A flash of regret appears on her face. It barely lasts a second before a mask of indifference drapes over her features again.

“You should rest,” she says, cupping your cheek. “You will need your strength for the days ahead.”

You take in your mother’s blank expression. The blatant lack of emotion despite her knowing what Feyd-Rautha did to you. You swallow a shivering sob. It might have hurt less if she struck you across the face. Or drove a dagger through your chest.

The room chills around you as you reach a sinister conclusion.

You are completely alone.

Packing your scarce belongings takes little time. You didn’t bring a lot with you on Giedi Prime. The trip was supposed to be short after all. A mere courtesy visit to honor your father and the Baron’s alliance. How naive you were.

In the end, you are just a pawn for the Bene Gesserit and your father to move around. You always knew marriage would come eventually. It is what you have been prepared for your whole life. But you harbored the faint hope that your future husband would be kind, or at least a decent man.

As you recall every instance of Feyd-Rautha’s cruelty, horror clutches your insides.

There isn’t a sliver of kindness in him. You venture he may even draw sick pleasure from others’ misery. The smile that touched his lips when you struggled against him still chills your veins.

It stuns you that someone like him, who seems more animal than man, even passed the Reverend Mother’s test, that he somehow withstood the pain, and maybe even embraced it.

Logic dictates that he must have however. Otherwise the Reverend Mother wouldn’t ratify the crossing of your two bloodlines.

The mere thought fills you with dread. He is dangerous. A monster who thinks, who plans, who schemes, who gathers joy from pain.

You come to a decision. You will not be Feyd-Rautha’s bride.

You must find your way back home. The sisterhood can find another sacrifice to fulfill their prophecy. It will not be you.

You wait for the keep to be quiet, not a sound lingering in the cold, blue hallways. You conceal a few belongings beneath your cloak. Another set of clothes, a compass, some jewelry and other valuables you’re hoping to trade for safe passage on a starship. Doubts wander inside you.

Where will you go? What will you do? Will you survive the weather conditions and atmosphere of a completely different planet? You still remember your brief visit on Salusa Secundus for the Princess Irulan’s coronation day. How you couldn’t move without fire rushing to your lungs. How every single step felt like you were taking a hundred. You could die.

Still, the prospect scares you far less than what awaits you in the Keep.

Uncertainty lies in your future. But you do know one thing. You must run as far away as you can from Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.

Getting past the guards is easy enough.

You use what you remember of your Bene Gesserit training to sneak outside the fortress.

Harko city welcomes you in all its dull, somber rotting glory. You cross past discarded piles of rubbish and large oily puddles as you race through dark alleyways. Everywhere your gaze rests, it’s assaulted by sheer decay and putrefaction. Unlike the clean, cold, pristine interior of the Keep, the city is crumbling.

The putrid stench rising from the streets almost causes you to turn back. In the end, you refrain, steadfast as you rush through the busy streets. Every second is precious. You could get caught, dragged back to the Keep.

The back of your neck prickles. Your pulse escalates. The presence of three men hovers at the edge of your sight. Pretending you didn’t notice them, you subtly hasten your strides.

They catch on quick, too quick.

One of them pounces on you. You keel over and collapse on the harsh, dirt-covered ground. You try to crawl away, fright engulfing your senses.

Another of the men grabs your ankle and yanks you towards them.

Leering smiles float above you in the dim light of the alley.

“Hm, we could fetch a good price for that one,” the last man says. “Such a pretty little thing with pretty, pretty hair…”

The man who caught you barks a derisive snicker.

“An outworlder. How exotic.”

The second one bends closer to sniff the air around you. Your throat constricts as you turn your head.

“Not just any outworlder,” he says, his head tilted in curiosity. “This one smells like royalty.”

Elated chuckles burst in the darkness.

“That royal bitch will make us rich.”

The man who smelled you licks his lips.

“But shouldn’t we sample the goods first?” Fear shoots through you. “Never had me a highborn gal before.”

“Me neither.”

“This is a once in a lifetime-”

The man chokes mid-sentence. Your mouth drops as a blade is driven through his neck from behind, practically beheading him. Blood rains over you. Wet spots drip onto your face and dress as each of the men is gutted by a swift, ruthless opponent. You watch one pull a knife. He doesn’t get to use it, unleashing a blood-curdling scream when his hand is sliced at the wrist. The fingers of his severed hand twitch as it hits the floor. He sinks to his knees, wailing while cradling his bleeding stump against his chest. He meets his end with a brutal smash of his head into the stone wall. Gray matter spills from his skull as his eyes roll back and he falls in a dark puddle lifelessly.

The last one tries to run but is dealt with in the same merciless fashion.

Your wide, horrified gaze sweeps over the massacre. The speckles of blood on your face are still warm with the heat of the dead men’s bodies.

A shaky breath spills from your throat.

Your head rises. You come face to face with Feyd-Rautha’s expressionless stare. He picks up your trembling frame from the ground and tosses you over his shoulder. He strolls over the men’s corpses as if they weren’t even there, huffing a deep sigh of annoyance.

“You should be glad I found you in time, pet,” he says.

He throws you inside a car. The door slams and you huddle in a corner. Feyd smirks at your shrinking form.

“Truly? Nothing to say after all that fuss?”

Tremulous words trickle through your lips.

“Just let me go home.”

He slants his head, the corners of his lips lifting slowly. “No.”

“You could say that you didn’t like the look of me,” you insist. “That I repulsed you.”

Feyd-Rautha snorts.

His hand shoots out, moving too fast for you to comprehend. He leans over you, fingers squeezing your throat. “Pet…you were mine before you even set foot on Giedi Prime.” His dark gaze drags over you. You get a glimpse of black teeth as he grins. “The only place you’re going tonight is my bed.”

Once the car reaches the Harkonnen keep, you’re roughly pulled from your seat. Your chest tightens as you note the severed heads of your guards and maid lined in a neat row near the gates. Their lifeless eyes are wide open, staring at nothing.

You stumble back, hands flying to your mouth.

Satisfaction twinkles in Feyd-Rautha’s dusky orbs.

“I had to kill these incompetent fools, of course. They let my precious bride slip away.”

You gawk at him in shock. Guilt presses inside you. If you hadn’t tried and failed to escape, those poor people might still be alive. Tears swell beneath your lashes.

The na-Baron exhales, gripping your arm and tugging you along when you refuse to move. He smiles. “Do not worry, pet. We will find you new servants. Better ones.”

You end up in a large room inside the Keep. A tub filled with water sits in the middle. Feyd-Rautha’s concubines flash black-teethed smiles at you as you crash into a heap on the floor.

“Get her ready for me,” he says.

“Yes, master,” the three women reply in concert.

Your eyes swing upward in alertness.

“Ready for what?”

His inflection is chillingly matter-of-fact.

“Well, our wedding ceremony, of course.” You unleash a whimper as his fingers twine in your hair, twisting your neck backwards. His feral gaze seems to peel the layers of your blood-soaked tunic. “Why wait a few days when I can have you as my birthday gift tonight?”

His hand coils around your jaw, forcing your head to pivot. Your gaze falls on a slave girl standing fearfully in a corner of the room. You’re struck with recognition. She was in the arena before his fight, tending to him along with two other girls. Two girls who are now dead. Courtesy of Feyd-Rautha. She glances at you before her eyes tumble to the smooth black tiles again.

“Do you see her?” he whispers, his chest brushing against your back.

Feyd-Rautha beckons the girl with two fingers. She staggers forward.

“Speak, slave,” he orders.

The girl opens her mouth. However, instead of uttering words, only distorted whimpers come out. Horror twists your insides as you realize something crucial is missing inside her mouth.

“W-What happened to her?” you ask, dreading to hear what you already suspect.

His dark chuckle resonates in your ear.

“She can’t talk anymore. Do you know why?” His lips graze your cheek, his raspy tone lowering. “Because I took her tongue.”

Your stomach sinks.

When you attempt to turn away, his grip on you becomes harsher. He forces you to keep your eyes on the girl.

“I want you to take a good look at her.” His hand spreads over your chest, right above your hammering heart. “Try any of your Bene Gesserit tricks on me again…and I will feed your tongue, and perhaps even other parts of you to my darlings here.” He snorts. “After all, I only need one part of you intact to make me an heir.”

“Do you understand, my love?” he inquires, his husky bass dripping mockery upon the last two words.

You swallow a large gulp of air. “I-I understand.”

He storms out of the room and you sink to the floor. His concubines dive upon you. They nudge you to the tub and remove the clothes off your quivering frame.

The blood, grease and dirt is scrubbed off your flesh. Scented oils are massaged into your skin and hair. A dress is wrapped around your body.

You numbly let it all happen, defeat sinking its hooks deep inside your soul.

The farce of a wedding ceremony flies by in a blur.

Baron Vladimir and your mother are both in attendance, the two wearing satisfaction on their faces, albeit in different manners. While the Baron is smug, your mother is attentive. Not a single emotion betrays her face and you feel thoroughly abandoned.

Before the ceremony, she mumbles in your ear that the Reverend Mother requested a girl-child. You know the process, have been taught how it’s done. But it’s a cruel reminder…that you are nothing more than a tool in the larger schemes of the Bene Gesserit.

And that perhaps, your entire life you have simply been your mother’s mission. Maybe she even feels relief to be delivered from her duty.

The thought overwhelms you with sadness.

You stand before Feyd-Rautha in a flowing white dress while he dons black from head to toe.

He astonishes you by uttering his vows with the utmost seriousness, swearing to protect and cherish you until death forces the two of you apart. Death...In that moment, you find yourself silently wishing for its swift, imminent arrival.

When the Harkonnen priest whirls to you, the words stick to your throat, refusing to unfurl from your tongue.

“Does the bride consent to the match?” the officiant repeats.

Shell-shocked, you shiver in your spot. Feyd-Rautha’s mouth quirks upward.

“Oh, she consents. She is simply too overwhelmed with happiness to speak,” he replies on your behalf, openly taunting you.

You grimace as he slices the inside of your palm with a dagger and brings it to its lips. Your blood coats his mouth and his tongue flicks out. He hums at the taste, a smile blooming on his face. He does the same to himself, digging even deeper in his alabaster flesh. You flinch as he presses his bloody palm against the bottom of your face.

The Harkonnen wedding ritual concludes with him planting a rough kiss on your lips. He shoves his tongue inside your mouth, pulling you against him.

When the ceremony ends, he hoists you in his arms and takes you to his bed.

As promised, he lays his claim on your body right away.

Your wedding dress is ripped open with a few precise slashes of his knife. Your insides coil, the fear of him driving the weapon through your soft flesh keeping you docile underneath him. You don’t say a word, your tongue shackled by his earlier threat. He takes a moment to drink you in, relishing the rapid rise and fall of your chest as he drags the tip of his blade across your skin. He savors your fear like the sweetest offering, growing harder against your thigh as you tremble beneath him.

His black-toothed grin freezes the blood in your veins.

“My pretty little pet…all mine to play with, finally,” he rasps.

There’s no gentleness in the way he explores your body, scratching and nipping at your flesh as if to make sure no one dares doubt whom you belong to when you leave his chambers. Every plea for him to slow down is met with renewed ferocity. He tastes and fondles every inch of your quivering flesh. Your nipples pebble under his palms. Your core ignites below his tongue. Pleasure and pain mingle in sinful, twisted harmony.

Your back folds and your eyes roll back as a myriad of confounding sensations assaults your senses.

As he buries himself inside you to the hilt, he frees a satisfied grunt.

Pain clamors through you when he starts to move. Your walls catch fire at the aching, brutal stretch.

Holding your wrists above your head, he pours every ounce of lust and aggression inside you. You feel it in every stab inside your core.

His pale, muscular form pins you to the bed as he thrusts deeper inside you, reaching a tender spot that has you releasing an ear-splitting scream. You squirm over the soaked sheets as he takes you again and again, the mix of blood and arousal coating his length easing his blunt intrusion. Your helpless wails mingle with his feral moans.

Raspy words in the coarse Harkonnen tongue are heatedly whispered into your ear. You don’t understand any of them and it makes your terror grow.

You feel as if you will break, shatter at the seams beneath his rough, careless touch.

The agony seems to stretch into eternity.

Feyd-Rautha’s lips skate across your bruised cheek.

“Do not fret, pet. I shall aim not to break you just yet,” he teases, sinister promises lurking in his lewd inflection. “Not when our fun has just begun.”

A single wayward tear traces a slow path down your cheek.

He greedily licks it, purring at the taste of your misery.

You feel him strain against you as he nears his peak, his thrusts getting slower and deeper. He comes with a deep roar.

The na-Baron spills his seed inside you. Your eyes shut. Power flows inside your womb as you conjure the right outcome.

A girl they desired. A girl they shall have. As you writhe beneath Feyd-Rautha, forced to bear his rough, bruising touch, you wish your daughter fierce and strong.

Strong enough to pluck the stars from the heavens. Strong enough to unweave the tangled threads of time.

Strong enough to twist the arm of fate itself if she wills it.

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #feyd-rautha #dune fanfiction #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune part 2 #dune #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #dark fic

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k1ngpin42 · 2 months

Text

POV: 𝘼𝙗𝙗𝙮 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙙𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙧r- (mini fic)

Warnings: Dating, public 18+, dominant Abby, fingering

You, Abby, Mel, Manny and Whitney are sitting at a table in the WLF base. You and Abby aren’t allowed to be paired together on patrols anymore after Mel snitched about the time she caught you two fucking while on duty. To be fair, though, the door of the room you two were in had been locked from the outside, it wasn’t your fault Mel didn’t knock.

Anyway, not being able to see her throughout the day was fucking with you. Images of what you two would do the night and morning before you’d go on patrol, things you two used to do at any available moment on away missions. Against the wall when the other soldiers turned their back, on the floor, against an old car, on the table where you and the others would plan routes around seraphite camps, one time you even fucked while in a room full of clickers. (It was the most terrifying orgasm you had ever experienced if you’re being honest with yourself. Still amazing though.)

She sits down and the tension is immediate, you’d let her take you right here and now if she asked.

“Hey love, how were your assignments today?” She asks. Fuck. You didn’t know what was up with you today cause you were fucking wet at the site of her.

“What? Oh, yeah, it was alright…” You say, eyes scanning her body. You hear the others talk indistinctly and your gaze immediately drops to her hands.

“Did you really have to invite the game nerd?” You hear Mel whisper. You roll your eyes.

“Whitney’s my friend, Mel, don’t be a dick.” You tell her bluntly, and Whitney looks up at this. Mel looks at her with a guilty expression.

“Whitney I didn’t mean….”

“Oh it’s okay Mel. I can just sit by myself like I usually do.”

“Nonsense, you’re with us.” Manny reassures.

Once this drama clears up, Abby and Mel start telling the others stories about their mission today. Various jokes and exaggerations. None of this was relevant to you, though, cause for the love of everything holy, you couldn’t focus.

You watched as she enhanced her story with hand movements, her laugh was a melody in your ears, her voice a chorus. The veins on her hands were still prominent, she must have had to beat up some form of enemy, usually runners. Or maybe she had been lifting something heavy.

A smile smile pressed your lips at the thought of that. The thought of her big arms straining, she would groan slightly before the metal crate behind a door would move and she’d let out another satisfied sigh. Fuck. Those arms, those hands, you needed them inside you, on you, you didn’t care which.

“He grabs the EMPTY gun and points it at the woman. She’s got a fuckin club or something and he says….well, something in Spanish.” Abby explains to the group who have been intently listening, making you feel slightly bad for zoning out.

“ Estás acabado, cabron. You are finished, asshole.”

“Haha…nice.” Abby replies, taking a bite of her food. She looks over at you, who is still too focused on the way the vein on her right hand is more prominent than on her left. When she notices this, she smirks. That same cocky fucking smirk when she knows that, once again, she’s read you like a book.

“Hey so, that new training manual you read, what was it again?” She asks you as she slips a hand on your thigh. You’re wearing baggy blue jeans and even with them on you feel heat trickle down your spine.

“Oh the one about long guns? Well…the main premise is about rounds.” She moves her hand so it’s cupping your cunt through the fabric.

“I-“ You clear your throat. “Each gun has a unique gear that allows the rounds to move more fl-“ Abby cautiously unzips the jeans. “Fluidly.” You explain. She starts teasing your pussy with her index fingers and painting your clit with slick.

“Have you tested it out on a gun? The upgrade?” Abby asks, watching you with an amused expression as she increases the pace.

“Wh-at…oh um, yeah.” You stumble over your words.

“Ah well you can come improve my weapon, do you know how many times this gun has been stepped on? I’m surprised I can put new rounds in at all.” Manny laughs. Your eyelids flutter as she puts her two middle fingers inside you and circles your clit with her thumb. She does all this with her left hand, not even taking her eyes off of the group, she doesn’t have to.

How does this not make her uncomfortable? How does the fact that our whole friend group will watch you cum work for her in any way?

“Only if you gi-mm~” You stifle your moan with your hand.

“You okay?” Mel asks you. You nod.

“Just tired, I was gonna say, only if you give me a….ah~ a good gun too since he always hogs them all.”

“I do not.” He laughs.

Fuck, Abby’s hands rubbing you feels fucking insatiable but you need to be alone with her, you can’t stand how embarrassing this feels. You want her to fuck you till you can’t breathe, not tease you in front of people you have to interact with on the regular.

“I might go to bed early.” You say, attempting to push Abbys hands away. She grabs your arm tightly and gives you a warning look.

“Aw don’t be silly, we’ll go when you’re finished.” She pauses. “…Eating.” Abby adds, increasing her pace as well as the pressure on your clit. Fuck, you could scream at how good it feels. You want to scream.

“Who were you with today baby?” Abby asks. Fuck you could kick her right now. She’s clearly doing this on purpose to hear you make a fool of yourself in front of her your friends. It won’t work, you try to convince yourself.

“Um, I don’t know, it was me, two guys and a girl. The girl was dating one of the guys so me and the other guy did most of the patrolling while they probably, I don’t even know, did each other or something.” You explain, enjoying the feeling of her thick, warm fingers. Fuuuuuuck.

Mel looked guilty again. She always did, maybe this is just her resting face?

“I’m sorry that you and Abby can’t go on patrols anymore.” Mel utters, quietly. You roll your eyes but before you can even think to be annoyed at her, Abby pushes just the right place and you let out a gush of satisfied air.

“Agh~ all good.” You say, keeping your composure fairly well. Abby rewards this by easing up slightly and you instinctively buck your hips forward.

“Do you prefer hot places or cold?” Abby asked, and at this point you’re forcing your eyes open.

“What?” You ask, bitterly. Fuck you’re painfully close, you’re so gonna hit her when this is over.

“Abby…” You whisper to her, her smirk widens, cocky prick.

“Did you say something baby?” You sigh and poke at some of the food on your plate.

“Hot. I don’t like the cold or the rain, snow’s the only…f….um, exception.” You breathe out. Abby can tell by the look on your face that you’re cumming and she tilts her head, admiring you.

“I prefer the heat too. It’s always hot in Mexico.” Manny says, his voice just a murmer as you see colours through your eyelids. Holy fuck, you’d give anything to let out a loud moan right now.

“I’m actually pretty tired too, I think we’re gonna turn in early.” Abby explains to the others. Mel nods and Manny looks mildly disappointed, but doesn’t say anything.

“Have a good night.” Whitney says with a warm smile. You nod and Abby helps pull you up. You bite back a wince at how sensitive it feels to have your legs together and you hurry with Abby out of the hall.

“Abigail fucking Anderson.” You warn, simply. She smiles, kissing you playfully on the cheek.

“Yeah?” She asks. You punch her arm lightly.

“Do you like making a fool of me? All our friends saw-“

“Did you like it?” She asks, that seductive and almost arrogant smirk still evident on her pretty fucking face. You roll your eyes. She kisses your neck and leans in to your ear.

“I bet you were thinking about it. My hands, my fingers, I was just giving you what you want.”

“Yeah but…I mean at dinner? That’s just torture.”

“Aw.” She says with fake sympathy. “Want me to make it up to you?”

°..·°¯°·._.· 🎀 >.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°🎀 >-.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯

#abby anderson #abby x reader #abby tlou #tlou2 #smut #abby smut #abby anderson x female reader #ellie williams

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vivid-ink · 8 months

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"The Love Shack" Part II - Three is a Perfect Crowd

Relationship: Neteyam(23) x fem!Omatikaya reader(21) x Lo'ak(22)

Read Part I - The Proposition HERE

Story Summary: You’d heard the whispered speculations and stifled giggles during the daytimes. You’d seen the furtive glances that the other women cast at Neteyam and Lo’ak through coquettish eyes, cheeks stained a blushing mauve as they exchanged coy smiles with the two brothers. And during the nights? Hell, you’d heard the moans and wanton cries for yourself… You were definitely curious, but did you have it in you to go through with their proposition?...

Warnings: Adult content 18+ MDNI Word count: 7.9k Content: Mentions of group sex, MMF threesome, smut, sex toy play, squirting

Author's Note: Thank you to all of you who read, commented, reblogged, liked and asked to be tagged for Part II!

@teymars @eyweveng @leaveitbythewave @luvteyams @ @akiras-key @bajbr @questioningconstellationsstuff @reggiesslut @neteluvr @savvysscandles @dasaniix @emery-333 @vintaqestar @ @live-laugh-neteyam @itssomeonereading @strawberry-vamp0 @clairevoyanceee @delacruzyari @bluecooki3 @aalex561-blog @frustrated-kitten @innercreationflower @wolf12thsworld

Here is Part II and I warn ya, it's all filth. 🤭 Grab a glass of wine, a blanket, a towel, whatever you need... and enjoy!

***~~~***

Indecision wasn’t something you were accustomed to. You’d always prided yourself on making strong decisions both personally as well as professionally. It was one of the reasons you rose through the ranks to beat out all the other warriors to become Neteyam’s second-in-command. So, the fact that you’d spent majority of today vacillating in your decision to either go or not go to the outpost was an uncomfortable anomaly.

The conclusion of last meal earlier in the evening had brought with it a burning imperative for you to make your final decision and stick with it. You were dismayed to find that the urgency of the time didn’t help you one bit.

You’d trudged on shaky legs into the woodlands in the outpost’s general direction, before being overwhelmed with a severe case of cold feet. However, instead of turning and running for home, you’d plopped yourself down on some moss and begun whittling away at your half-finished spear from yesterday while you dithered further.

That was a couple of hours ago and it was getting late now.

The present found you parked in the woodland scrub just outside the old outpost with your finished spear in hand. The hesitant side of you hoped that maybe Neteyam and Lo’ak might have abandoned their proposition after your no-show, given the late hour. However, the lambent glow of the lamps inside the outpost shelter and the muffled sound of one of them laughing told you otherwise.

The curious side of you thrilled with anticipation at the unknown…

The brothers had done well to refurbish the abandoned outpost. It had been the central gathering place for the war council during the Long War with the sky people, and it had suffered severe damage during battle. The end of the Long War had been a long-awaited blessing and the outpost had been abandoned, its function no longer necessary and the memory of what it symbolised too painful for some to bear.

But Neteyam and Lo’ak had rebuilt the damaged settlement, renewing it with new textiles, new fibres and new designs. Apart from its core structure, it hardly even resembled the old war outpost anymore.

Approaching the outpost’s entrance where a set of draping cloths served to shield its interior from outside eyes, you steeled yourself under your breath, “Come on, just go and have a look. You can leave if it’s not your thing, like Neteyam said.”

You’d come this far… one peek wouldn’t hurt? If you were honest with yourself, the taste of Neteyam’s kiss had lingered on your lips and tongue all of last night, and it was your craving to experience it again that had brought you here.

Urging your feet forward, you were in process of reaching to part the cloths when they suddenly flew apart from before you as someone made to exit. You hissed, startled in alarm, instinctively lowering yourself into a defensive position with your spear pointed frontward.

“Argh! Holy shit!” Lo’ak exclaimed, stumbling backward in the face of the sharp weapon you were wielding, “Great Mother, who do you think you’re going to be spearing with that?!”

Immediately lowering your spear when it became apparent you were in no danger, you were quick to deliver a faltering apology, “Sorry, you gave me a fright!”

“I gave you a fright? Goddamn woman, I was just going to take a leak and I nearly pissed myself!”

“Sorry!”

The other side of the entry cloths parted to reveal Neteyam who had come to investigate. There a momentary flash of surprise on his face before one side of his mouth quirked upward in a wily grin that made your ears heat.

Recovered now from the scare you’d inflicted on him, Lo’ak shot a smug smirk at Neteyam and remarked at you, “You’re very late. Don’t have too much fun without me, I’ll be back.”

Neteyam stepped aside to allow you to enter while Lo’ak left to relieve himself. You padded on tentative feet into the outpost and you were astonished to find the space quite innocuous. The interior held all the usual furnishings that you’d expect in a living space; rugs, throws, cushions and soft mats; woven decorations hung from the upper framings of the outpost and a cosy-looking fire burned in a central hearth.

Your expression must have betrayed your thoughts as Neteyam broke the silence with a chuckle, “Not what you expected?”

“I didn’t know what to expect, to be honest.” That was mostly true, you didn’t have any specific expectations or imaginings of the place, you just hadn’t expected the space to look so normal.

From the salacious gossip that had run rampant amongst the women about their experiences here, as well as from your memory of the sensual cries you’d heard that one night you’d ventured near enough, you’d projected a more sordid atmosphere than the one you currently found yourself in.

“When you didn’t show soon after last meal, I figured you weren’t coming.” Neteyam breathed.

You turned to look at him properly for the first time this evening and you noticed his relaxed attire. You were used to seeing him in full warrior regalia, but tonight he was dressed simply, without his cummerbund, arm and leg guards, and no weapons. A beaded choker necklace adorned his neck and a woven armband hugged one of his impressive biceps, but apart from this and a purple loincloth, the rest of him was bare.

You could see so much of his skin… smooth and striped, and cerulean blue all over hard muscle…

“My curiosity evidently won out in the end.” You replied, attempting to tamp down the buzzing knot of nerves in your belly with a small smile at him.

“You can put this down.” Neteyam reached for your spear, prying it gently from your grasp and moving to set it against the nearest wall. His eyes glimmered warmly in the firelight, “No one will hurt you here.”

You nodded, rubbing your empty palms together with a deep breath. You began to circle the space, noticing that it was bigger than you initially thought as there were more cloth draperies that hung to the sides of the shelter that served to partition it off into different sections. Each section held more of the same comfortable furnishings, but the drapes clearly served the purpose of privacy.

Thankfully, as your curiosity increased, your nervousness decreased and you finally felt comfortable enough to ask, “So, what? The women come here and everyone just plays?”

A husky chortle from him, “If that’s what people want to do. Sometimes everyone just relaxes over some drinks and hangs out. Things don’t necessarily always escalate into more.”

You cast him a sceptical look, continuing on your exploration of the place, “And how often is it that sex and body play doesn’t end up on the agenda?” If gossip was to be believed, then you knew it wasn’t often at all that things stayed chaste.

When Neteyam didn’t respond, you turned to face him as he followed you and the wicked grin on his face confirmed that what you’d surmised was right. You rolled your eyes and he laughed.

“And what are these tawtute (human) things that all the women rave about? These tools that supposedly bring pleasure like nothing they’ve ever experienced before?” You queried, intentionally keeping your tone flippant despite the flagrantly sexual nature of your question.

Neteyam’s hot breath ghosted the nape of your neck and you realised he had walked right up to your back, “Come, I’ll show them to you.”

A warm, large hand enveloped one of yours and he led you over to another part of the shelter where a cloth-covered shape lay. Kneeling before it, Neteyam lifted the soft cloth to reveal an intricately designed chest woven from flax and colourful fibres. Undoing the leather snap at its front, he opened it to reveal a plush-lined inner in which sat a series of instruments in of varying shapes and materials you’d never seen before.

The colours of these instruments were also bright, unnaturally so. There were a myriad of shades and tones of colour that existed on Pandora, but the pinks, purples a blues you were looking at were very artificial. A bright blue tool caught your eye and unable to resist, you slowly reached to pick it up. It was smooth and long, and you could only just wrap a hand around the width of it. Its length was also slightly curved, tapering upward at the end.

Neteyam watched quietly as you picked through the various offerings in the chest, running your fingers over the smooth silicone of the toys. He fought to keep his composure as erotic thoughts of you using them began to assault him. You appeared rather intrigued by the blue g-spot vibrator you held, though he could tell by the slight frown on your face that you weren’t really sure what it was for.

“That’s an insertion toy. It goes inside you.” He informed, “And if you turn it on. It vibrates.”

Vibrates… You’d never heard that human word before and you didn’t know what it meant. You let Neteyam take the toy from you and he fiddled with something on its length before it came to life with a buzzing hum that made you jump.

Extending cautious fingers towards the humming toy, you touched its vibrating form before withdrawing your hand, “It tickles.”

“It feels good against you when it’s in the intended place.” Neteyam’s voice was slightly rough and you could smell the familiar musk from last night emanating from him again.

“Do they all go inside?” You asked, eyeing up the other oddly shaped toys, some of which did not look particularly comfortable to insert.

“Not all. This is a wand vibrator and it’s generally only for external use.” He picked up a purple toy, which had a longer handle and a large bulbous head at the end. Switching this one on, you noted that his one hummed even more aggressively than its blue predecessor.

“Whoa, straight into the toy box, are we?” Lo’ak had returned and his voice was a teasing drawl as he joined you and Neteyam, “Getting right down to business then.”

Ears flattening a little at the jibe, you harrumphed at Lo’ak, “I’m just looking.”

The few loose braids by his temple clacked as he laughed, “Oh, they’re not made for looking at, trust me.”

The bravado you’d found waned a bit with Lo’ak’s return, the reality of the situation seeping into you. Great Mother, were you really here discussing sexual implements with two men?... Were you seriously contemplating engaging in a sexual encounter with them?...

Standing up to put some distance between you and the two brothers, you dusted your knees off lightly and suddenly felt rather out of place. You didn’t know what to do with your hands and you didn’t know where to rest your eyes either.

Sensing that his bold teasing had thrown you off kilter, Lo’ak stood to meet your eyes and his face was sincere as he spoke, “Hey, if you were curious and just wanted to see what this place was about, that’s OK. We can just hang if you want to.”

You didn’t acknowledge Lo’ak’s last statement with a definite answer. You warred within yourself. What did you want?... You were nervous, but you didn’t want to go either. The recollection of the searing but short-lived kiss you’d shared with Neteyam made an appearance again in your mind. You wanted to explore that further… By Eywa, you didn’t think you’d object to kissing Lo’ak either…

Like his older brother, Lo’ak too was dressed simply. Neteyam had risen to his feet next to him and they made an incredibly handsome pair. You could absolutely understand why the other women lusted after them. After all, you were hardly innocent of that crime. Your long-standing attraction to Neteyam had ensured that.

“No, I’ll- I’ll stay.” You resolved, “I don’t want to be the only one who’s left out of the loop.”

The two brothers shared a look that you couldn’t decipher the meaning of. It was a glance between them with fairly neutral expressions, but you did see the slight upturn of their lips.

“Where’d you even get those things anyway?” You questioned. You knew that with their mixed heritage and with Jake originating from the humans’ side, that there were many tools and instruments that the olo’eyktan had adopted for use in the clan. However, you could hardly imagine the olo’eyktan openly bringing in sex toys for the clan’s wider use.

“Spider.” Neteyam supplied with a fond laugh, “He’s got quite the knack for sourcing and supplying us with contraband under the radar from the avatar camp.”

You giggled at the thought of Spider. You liked the human. He lived majority of his life amongst the Omatikaya with the Sullys anyway, so despite his foreign form, he was very much Na’vi at heart.

There was one last set of drapes in a corner by the toy chest which caught your eye. It was the only partitioned section of the outpost that you hadn’t yet explored. Ambling towards it you murmured, “What’s behind here? More of the same?”

Neteyam and Lo’ak watched you approach the last partition, knowing full well that what was behind the draperies was not simply more of the same. The last pair of drapes led into their main play area. Quietly they awaited your reaction and sure enough it came soon after in the form of a soft gasp.

They’d built a large, raised bedframe in there and on it sat a thick bedding mat swathed in silken fabric. The bed was sizeable enough to sleep several adults and piles of plush cushions and rolls lined one end of it. The other main feature of the play area, which was also courtesy of Spider, was a large mirror that ran along one entire wall.

You’d never seen anything like it. The gigantic bed was one thing, but the strange pane of whatever it was that spanned the entirety of the opposite wall was breathtaking. You had never seen your own reflection so clearly in your life, save for the completely still water of a puddle after heavy rain, and even that was a far cry from this. Mesmerised, you approached the large pane until you were standing right before it.

“It’s called a mirror.” Lo’ak’s deep timbre sounded.

You’d been so entranced by your reflection that you hadn’t noticed the two brothers enter the space behind you. They flanked you now, one on either side.

“It’s amazing.” You breathed in astonishment. Your fingertips met its cool and solid surface and you marvelled at the clarity of it, “Everything is so clear. It’s beautiful.”

“Just like you are, paskalin.” Neteyam’s words elicited another intake of breath from you and your amber eyes met his in the reflection of the mirror.

Both brothers were standing very close to you, their bodies angled inward towards yours. They were close enough that a subtle shift on either side of you would cause your arms to brush their torsos. Your ears twitched as you perceived the quiet sound of their breaths and your skin prickled with the body heat you could feel exuding from their bodies.

The mirror’s reflection also allowed you to see yourself in-between them and it became apparent to you how much taller and bigger they were in stature compared to you. The top of your head only just skimmed past their chins and your lithe body was much willowier next to their more muscular physiques. The image was as arousing as it was intimidating…

Lo’ak was carefully scenting you now, in a very similar way to the way Neteyam had done the night before. He trailed a hand up your forearm and he pulled you against him to sniff at your hair. Lo’ak’s scent was different to Neteyam’s, but it was no less appealing to your feminine senses.

Through the reflection you saw Neteyam dip his head and you anticipated his action moments before you felt the scorching heat of an open-mouthed kiss against the other side of your neck. Your next inhale was a quivering rush of air into your lungs and your heart began to pound with want.

Leaving a trail of nips up your neck to your jaw, Neteyam paused to purr by your ear, “This is a place where people come to feel good and surrender to pleasure. Rank doesn’t matter here and you leave the outside world at the door. You set the boundaries, paskalin, but if you stay tonight then you must also promise to trust us.”

You turned your head towards him, chasing Neteyam’s lips with your own, yearning to taste him again. But he pulled away with a roguish smirk that promised your patience would be rewarded if you waited.

Your reply was a breathy whimper, “Yes.”

“Is there anywhere you don’t want to be touched?” Lo’ak murmured, the fingers of one hand tickling your hip while its twin splayed flat against the small of your back.

“No, it’s all fine.” Your chest heaved with your deepening breaths, every nerve ending hyperaware and hypersensitive in the waking dawn of your arousal.

Lo’ak’s answering grin was lascivious and the hand at your back pulled the tied knot of your chest-covering free. The garment shifted as it loosened, the beads scraping over your stiffening nipples. Neteyam was quick to undo the last tie of the garment behind your neck, and with a gentle swish it fell from your body entirely, leaving you exposed.

A harsh groan sounded from Neteyam and he cupped one of your breasts, letting his thumb flick over its hard peak, “Eywa, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted touch you like this. Every time your covering shifted at work, every little peek I was afforded when it slipped momentarily, it was torturous.”

Neteyam had been looking at your breasts?... The sentiment was an exciting surprise to you and you leaned into the agonising brush of his fingers over your nipple.

Lo’ak joined his brother, stroking and fondling your other breast, “You’ve got such pretty nipples, and Eywa, they love being touched.”

A stifled moan left you as pleasure shot straight to your core from the stimulation. Your head lolled onto Neteyam’s shoulder and he clasped your chin to angle it the right way so he could reward you with a passionate kiss. You felt him snake a hand down your front, the heat of his palm blazing past your navel to travel even lower. You jolted when he cupped your crotch, his fingers deftly finding the outline of your clitoris and rolling against it.

Neteyam broke away and the absence of his mouth allowed a desirous whine to escape you. He posed another question to you, “How much do you want from us tonight?”

You were dizzy with desire and your core pulsed with liquid heat. You gave another ragged moan when Lo’ak knelt down to capture one nipple in his mouth. Your eyes flicked forward to the wanton reflection before you; one brother suckling on your breast, the other with a hand buried between your thighs while he watched you. The press of their bodies against yours was delicious and you could see matching erections straining behind their loincloths in the reflection.

Your decision came to you undeniably, and you abandoned all your inhibitions in the heat of the pleasure you were experiencing, “I want everything. I want you both to fuck me tonight.”

Their reaction was immediate. There was a flurry of motion as both brothers moved, working in tandem to free your loincloth as well as their own. Naked now as the day you were born, every part of you screamed with want while every inch of your bare skin was pressed up and imprisoned between two aroused male bodies.

You were turned and facing Lo’ak now and you could feel his hard erection throbbing between the press of your torsos. He claimed your lips in a full but brief kiss and then said, “You know, if we’d known that all it would take to get you here was a private session with us, we would’ve done this sooner.”

“You’re incorrigible.” You retorted with a chuckle.

“Shall we move to the bed?” Neteyam suggested hoarsely, “I’m rather impatient to explore you, paskalin.”

“No wait,” You stopped him. You looked into the mirror again, rather enjoying the wide and unimpeded view it gave you of the whole space. Both Neteyam and Lo’ak were gorgeous to look upon and you wanted to enjoy the vision of their imposing frames while they were standing. “I want to enjoy looking at you both like this first.”

Facing the mirror front on with the brothers on a slight angle, your eyes tracked from the top of the pane downward. They were both panting lightly and their pupils were dilated wide with lust in their beautiful faces. Broad shoulders and muscular chests were followed by powerful abdominals that tapered to their slim hips and strong legs. But of course, the two things your attention snapped back to, once your eyes had reached their feet, were their impressive erections.

Biting your bottom lip and feeling frisky, you encircled each of their cocks in your grasp, one in each hand. They were both strapping men, so it didn’t surprise you that they were proportionate in this department too. Simultaneous grunts came from them both when you began a slow squeeze and stroke. Great Mother, they were gorgeous here too… long and girthy, hot skin over rigid hardness that made your pussy clench in yearning…

Lowering yourself to your knees, you peered up at them both while you continued your pumping rhythm over their lengths. You could see they were enjoying themselves, their abs flexing and contracting with their pleasure.

Turning your face towards Neteyam, you held his eyes as you parted your mouth and licked a slow stripe up his cock and over the head of it. His hips jerked involuntarily, a hiss whistling from between his gritted teeth. When your next move was to take his cock into your mouth and suck most of the way down, his response was a strangled cry. It took some effort and co-ordination on your part, but you conscientiously bobbed and sucked while still stroking Lo’ak as well.

“Fuck, you look and feel so good.” Neteyam droned, panting through an open mouth as his face contorted and moved through a series of expressions, all of which spoke to his immense enjoyment.

Lo’ak’s hips were thrusting lightly, pushing and pulling his hard flesh in a delicious glide through your grasp. He would let out the occasional whimper, which mingled sensually with Neteyam’s unrestrained groans. Lo’ak gave a small whine shortly after and you gently drew off Neteyam’s cock with a small pop, licking your lips.

You turned to the younger brother and grinned coyly at him, “I haven’t forgotten about you.”

Lo’ak’s deep chuckle rumbled in his chest and he cocked his head at you with a wink, “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t have let you forget about me anyway.”

The higher-pitched whine that then followed when you did take his cock into your mouth was a very stimulating contrast of sound.

Neteyam was shifting behind you and you felt him pat the inside of your leg lightly, “Part your legs a little for me.”

Still pleasuring Lo’ak, you multi-tasked and did as you were told. Out of the corner of your eye in the mirror, you saw that Neteyam had moved to lie on his back and had shimmied his head and shoulders between your knees.

Having a bird’s-eye view of the situation and understanding his brother’s intent, Lo’ak smirked and looked down to meet your eyes where you continued to suck him off, “You’re in for a treat, sweet thing.”

Neteyam’s firm hands gripped your hips to lower you slightly towards him. You could feel his breaths puffing gently against your pussy, which you knew was slick with your arousal. The rasp of his tongue against your folds and up to your clit was like a bolt of lightning to your core and you jumped, choking on Lo’ak’s cock when your body failed to co-ordinate your inhale of air with the bob of your head.

The assault that Neteyam began on your core was rapturous. He alternated between broad licks and swipes of his tongue and nose, and intent suckling on your clit. Lo’ak had withdrawn himself from your mouth, settling for stroking himself instead while he enjoyed the view of you squirming over his brother’s face. Leaning forward to place your hands on the ground, you rocked your hips, smoothing your core over Neteyam’s face. Breathy whimpers were coming from you as you neared your climax, but just as it was within your reach, his grip on your hips shifted and he lifted you upward from him to sit up.

“W-Wait no!” You squealed as your bottom plopped onto the ground beneath you, “Why’d you stop?!”

“Shh sorry, paskalin.” Neteyam soothed, cleaning his face off on the back of his wrist and swooping in to kiss you, “We’ll take care of you later, promise. We’re just building you up first. It’ll be worth it. Trust us, yeah?”

Chortling at the wounded expression of disappointment on your face, Neteyam got to his feet before reaching down to pull you up to your own. Your legs were unsteady, but it didn’t matter as he bent to scoop you into his arms next and carried you onto the large bed. Lo’ak had momentarily disappeared from view, but when he reappeared with three colourful implements in hand, you understood the reason for his disappearance. The sex toys.

You felt like you were burning up as you lay on the soft bedding. The heat was like molten pleasure through your veins. The tips of your nipples tingled and your pussy ached to be touched again. Lo’ak returned to join you on the bed and he handed the toys to Neteyam.

Coaxing you to sit up, Lo’ak moved to sit behind you with his legs spread so you could lean back against him. Pressing a kiss to the side of your face, Lo’ak whispered, “How about we give my brother a bit of a show, hmm? He likes to watch. It really gets him going for later.”

You looked at Neteyam, who had perched himself at the end of the bed facing you both. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes, almost as if he’d heard what Lo’ak had whispered to you and thoroughly agreed with the idea. You felt Lo’ak’s hands snake under your knees and he proceeded to then hitch them up towards your torso, leaving you splayed wide in exhibition before Neteyam who merely smirked.

Neteyam crawled closer, a couple of toys in hand. You recognised the blue one from before, but there was another strange gold coloured implement you didn’t recognise. You frowned at it warily and your body stiffened as you tried to sit more upright, “What does that do?”

“It’s a suction toy. It goes over your clit.” Neteyam explained while Lo’ak soothed your nerves with some gentle hushing. Stroking a hand over one of your parted thighs, Neteyam reassured you, “If you’re not enjoying it, let me know and we can stop, OK?”

Relaxing back into the position Lo’ak had put you in against him, you nodded in consent. At this moment, you really just wanted to be touched again.

As if hearing your thoughts, Lo’ak’s hands shifted to your breasts, caressing the soft flesh and toying with your nipples again. Your back arched into his hands and he chuckled by your ear. You felt Neteyam place the gold toy carefully between your legs, adjusting it so he nestled neatly against your tingling clit.

With a few clicks, the toy whirred to life and your eyes flew open wide at the new sensation. It was like a pleasant and rhythmic series of tapping against you, and as Neteyam increased the intensity of it, the taps got faster and faster until it all melded into an incredible humming sensation with a delightful suction to it.

“O-Ohhh,”You sighed, your eyes sliding shut as you concentrated on the pulsing pleasure. The pleasure settled into a delightful tempo of rhythmic contractions that made your thighs quiver in Lo’ak’s hold. It was nothing like you’d ever experienced. You’d pleasured yourself and been pleasured by men before, but this was something else…

“That’s it, paskalin, just lean into it. Feel for the rhythm of it.” Neteyam coaxed, watching keenly as the muscles in your pussy began to visibly throb and squeeze. His next words were a profane curse as he palmed his straining erection with his free hand. He badly wanted to have your pussy throbbing and squeezing around his cock like that… not yet, but soon…

Lo’ak was watching through the mirror’s reflection, thoroughly enjoying the view of you whilst also relishing the way you were writhing against him with mewls and sighs. His gaze lifted to lock with his older brother’s and he grinned when you your moans began to intensify, “Let’s see what we can make of her, bro.”

Thoroughly absorbed by the building waves of ecstasy that wracked your core, you didn’t even register that Lo’ak had said anything. The bliss was unreal. You felt the smooth blunt tip of something prod at your entrance and you cracked open a lid to see Neteyam running the blue vibrator through your folds. He was watching you carefully for any sign of objection and when you didn’t give him any, he breached you slowly but surely with it.

A hoarse groan tore from your throat at the satisfying addition that filled your pussy. The pulsing and clenching between your legs intensified and just when you thought things couldn’t feel any better, Neteyam switched the vibrator on and it began to hum inside you too. Your jaw was slack and you could feel your face was contorted into a grimace of pleasure.

Neteyam began to pump the vibrator in and out in a mimicry of thrusting, and your hands flew to clutch at Lo’ak’s thighs beside you. You were only half-aware of yourself, your body suspended in what felt like a never-ending loop of thrumming ecstasy that was speeding you towards an inevitable orgasm that would tear you apart. Something else was building too amid the throbbing of your core. There was a pressure increasing behind your pelvis with each terribly torturous thrust of the vibrator within you.

The throaty sounds you were emitting now were making it very challenging for the two brothers, whose own lust had skyrocketed in the last while as they’d watched you. Both hands occupied with pleasuring you, Neteyam was caught in a cruel contradiction between wanting to see you through and also wanting to touch himself to ease some of the pressure. Meanwhile, Lo’ak was canting his hips against your lower back to find whatever friction he could.

You were so close, teetering on the precipice of blessed oblivion, but you needed more…

You squirmed, trying to shift in Lo’ak’s hold where he had a firm grip on you behind your knees, straining to reach your climax. Your speech was a stutter, your panting breaths punctuated with by whimpers, “P-Please, I want to- I need-”

“What do you need, paskalin?” Neteyam asked, swallowing the saliva that was rapidly pooling in his cheeks at the shameless sight of you, almost completely undone under what his hands were doing to you.

“Please, one of you, just fuck me already!”

There was an immediate halt in the unforgiving pleasure that had assailed you as Neteyam haphazardly flung the toys aside, crawling on all fours to reach you. However, Lo’ak was faster.

The younger brother had shifted you to lie on your side while he stretched out alongside you with your back against his front. He’d hoisted one of your legs upward bent at the knee to splay you, his hard cock poised to enter you.

Hisses and growls filled the air suddenly, startling you somewhat out of your lust-filled haze. You peered through foggy eyes to see Neteyam knelt on your right, his nose wrinkled and teeth on display in an aggressive snarl at his brother, who you could hear hissing in return by your ear.

Lo’ak let out a glacial laugh, “Don’t be like this, bro. We’ve been through this before.”

Neteyam’s response was a harsh growl and his ears were pinned flat to his skull.

Not wanting any animosity between the two brothers, you attempted to mollify them, “Hey, don’t fight, what’s wrong-”

An unimpressed scoff sounded from Lo’ak and he tightened his hold around you, “I know my brother, sweet thing. He won’t let me have you once he’s gotten his hands on you. See, you’re not the only one here who doesn’t like to share.”

Neteyam scowled but he didn’t disprove his brother’s assessment. With a resigned growl like thunder in his chest, he appeared to acquiesce so long as Lo’ak abided by one demand, “Fine, but don’t cum inside her. She’s mine.”

You saw a gleam of possession in Neteyam’s eyes and heard the covetousness in his voice. It was such outlandish behaviour from him, considering you were so accustomed to his usually placid demeanour, but his jealousy was thrilling to you. He lowered himself onto his side in front of you, propping his head up on one elbow to watch.

A shudder rippled through you when you felt Lo’ak glide his cock against your slippery entrance. You felt him reach between you to position himself and he penetrated you with a sharp thrust. Your cry of pleasure was a croaky moan that sounded in time with Lo’ak’s guttural groan of satisfaction as your walls clenched tight around his length. Your pussy fluttered around the width of him and you revelled in the delightful stretch of the feeling. Definitely bigger than the blue vibrator that had been there before…

Lo’ak set a punishing pace of thrusts and your breaths punched out of you with each one as his hips collided with yours. Through half-lidded eyes, you noted that Neteyam was surveying the pair of you with a rather tetchy countenance. Reaching out to him with the hand you weren’t lying on, you caressed his cheek, beckoning him to kiss you. You were enjoying being railed by Lo’ak, but you still wanted Neteyam too.

Neteyam indulged you and you moaned into his mouth while his tongue and lips swept against yours. The pressure at your core was mounting rapidly again and Lo’ak’s uninhibited moans, as he took his pleasure from your body, only served to spur your pleasure onward.

Through the moist melding of your lips with Neteyam’s, you took his wrist and purred a request to him, “Touch me, Neteyam.”

His fingers found the swollen nub at the apex of your thighs and he began to press and circle it in an insistent rub. Your head flopped back against Lo’ak while you whined in bliss at the addition of Neteyam’s actions.

The nagging pressure in your pelvis returned along with the burn and pulse of your pussy. You could see your anticipated ecstasy within reach, but the pressure behind your pubic bone was increasing with each of Lo’ak’s hard thrusts. It felt like an urgent and insistent need to relieve yourself all of a sudden, and it alarmed you…

Eyes flying wide, you tried to shift in Lo’ak’s hold to stop him, ““W-Wait, I need to-”

Neteyam silenced you with a kiss and he hushed you softly, “Let go, paskalin. I know it feels strange, but just go with it.”

Frantic and feeling completely out of control as your orgasm loomed, you spluttered, “It feels like I’m going to wet myself!”

You saw Neteyam’s eyes flick to his brother behind you and they must have shared a meaningful look, for instead of slowing down or being gentler, Lo’ak added a swivel to the trajectory of his hips and Neteyam’s fingers persisted in their massage against your clit.

“Let go, trust me.” Neteyam breathed over you, “Come on, Neyomi.”

You didn’t know if it was the way he’d purred your given name, or if it was just a coincidence of timing and you couldn’t bear it any longer, but you succumbed to the tidal wave of pleasure and allowed it to consume you. A piercing scream ripped from you upon the initial wave. Your entire body went rigid and your pussy contracted intensely, pushing several spurts of fluid from between your legs. You were only dimly aware of the wetness you were emitting as you enjoyed the fleeting weightlessness of your powerful climax.

“Ah, fuck!” Lo’ak pulled free of you with a guttural shout to spill outside of you and over your taut belly and hips as your orgasm has triggered his own.

His breathing was ragged now whilst he came down from his own high and with a wary glance at Neteyam, he leaned over to steal a sloppy kiss from your parted lips, which you returned with a soft moan. He rolled away then onto his back, knowing that his brother would want his time with you now.

The keenness of your senses were slowly returning to you as you recovered from the explosive sensations you’d just experienced. All too aware now of the dampness on the bedspread beneath you, your hands flew to your face in embarrassment. What the fuck happened?... It had felt so amazing, but you’d wet yourself at the end of it…

“Great Mother, I’m sorry. I’ve made a mess.” You murmured through your fingers and you scooted up the bed into a sitting position, looking mortified at the drenched patches on the bedding.

Neteyam’s husky laugh was an unexpected reaction and your round eyes regarded him in bewilderment. Even Lo’ak was chuckling away where he lay relaxing with an arm thrown over his eyes.

Neteyam pulled gently at your hands, “Look at me. You haven’t wet yourself, alright?”

“I don’t understand.”

“What you just experienced was a squirt. It doesn’t happen all the time, but it can happen with intense orgasms from rigorous stimulation.” Neteyam explained mildly, before he graced you with a devious smirk, “It was extremely arousing to witness, paskalin.”

The deepening growl of his tone set shivers tingling down your spine again and your eyes dropped to the still prominent erection in his lap. That’s right, you asked to be fucked by two brothers tonight… one down, one more to go… and this was the one your blood seemed to sing for; that your heart leapt for whenever you saw him…

You knew your skin was already flushed from the earlier activities, but you felt renewed heat tinge your cheeks as Neteyam pushed onto his knees to shuffle closer to you again. Sitting before his kneeling form, you were just at the right height to take hold of his cock. Stroking it gingerly, you placed a shy kiss on its tip and lifted your eyes to meet Neteyam’s as he stared down at you. Great Mother, you felt your pussy squeeze again at the expression he wore, which was masculine possessiveness in the best kind of way…

“Don’t get shy on me now. I’m not done with you yet.” He hissed, grimacing as you began the luscious suck and bob of your head over his swollen length, “That all you got for me? You were choking on my brother’s cock earlier.”

Lifting your gaze to his again at his goading, you perceived a familiar warmth swirling behind the covetousness in his eyes, and something warm unfurled in your chest. Neteyam’s words had been taunting, but you could see he was just teasing you. You doubled down on your effort anyway, savouring the titillating feeling of his throbbing cock in your mouth while he groaned openly.

An unexpected click and rumbling buzz caught you unawares and you stilled. You felt the bed sink a little behind you and you realised that Lo’ak had moved to place something next to you on the bed. Drawing your lips up and off Neteyam’s length, you picked up the purple wand toy you’d seen in the chest before. It rumbled temptingly in your grip and you instinctively look at Neteyam for instruction.

“On your hands and knees, but keep facing me.” He directed, “My brother can help with this toy.”

Once again, you did as you were instructed and you redirected your attention to Neteyam’s hard flesh, returning it to the moist confines of your mouth. You’d always enjoyed giving blowjobs. Men were beautiful creatures, especially the one before you now, with all his formidable strength and taut muscle. You’d always found giving them pleasure a turn-on.

You jumped when the rumbling vibrations of the wand toy skimmed up the inside of one of your thighs, drifting dangerously close to your core before it was moved away. It repeated a similar path up the inside of your other thigh before trailing downward yet again. The vibrating tip of it began its ascent again and this time you canted your hips towards it, earning a dark chuckle from Lo’ak who was clearly enjoying teasing you.

Deciding not to be cruel, Lo’ak pressed the bulbous head of the wand against your core and began to stroke it back and forth over you. Your throaty groan of pleasure was muffled and Neteyam thought to himself how alluring you looked with your eyes rolling back while your mouth was full of him. It was an image straight out of his erotic fantasies of you…

Rocking to and fro as you sucked, the delicious rumbles of the wand were deep against your sensitive flesh and your clit was throbbing under the onslaught. You could taste Neteyam’s pre-cum on your tongue and his hands had framed your face, stroking your hollowed cheeks while he slurred pledges to you of how beautiful you looked.

Lo’ak was afford an unimpeded view of your rear and your pussy, your tail curled up and away in an erotic display. He could tell from the twitching throb and clench of your muscles that your second orgasm was not far away. “She’s close, bro.”

You whimpered as Neteyam extracted himself from your mouth at his brother’s report and he bent to whisper in your ear, “I’m going to fuck you now, paskalin. Do you want me to take you from behind or do you want me to face you?”

“I want to kiss you.” Your response was not quite a direct answer to his question, but it was telling enough for Neteyam to make his decision. Grasping you under your underarms, he hauled you upright onto your knees before he toppled you onto your back against the plush cushions.

Pinning you under the delightful heaviness of his muscular physique, you parted your thighs to cradle his slim hips as he positioned himself where he needed to be.

Neteyam’s handsome face was wicked and he paused to purr a filthy promise to you, “You’re going to remember me like this. Every day at work and every night in your dreams, you’re going to remember the feel of my cock inside you as I fuck you.”

Oh Eywa your work days… It was going to be a test of your composure not to let your very unprofessional behaviour not colour your professional conduct with him…

Like with his brother before, the burning stretch to fullness of him as Neteyam pushed inside you was incredibly satisfying, but it was more intimate face-to-face like this. You could watch his every expression like this as he began to thrust; his eyelids were heavy; his lips were parted, and a variation of higher-pitched whimpers and low groans were falling from him.

For Neteyam, your wet heat clutching at his cock was a staggering sensation. He felt his length throb in gratification as your pussy squeezed around him. After watching his brother fuck you and then having to wait his own turn, his own orgasm was racing towards him at a much quicker pace than he anticipated. He wanted to wring another climax from you first though…

Remembering that you’d expressed a desire to kiss him, Neteyam lowered himself onto his elbows so your front was flush with his and only his hips were canting back and forth. Nuzzling your cheek tenderly, he sealed his mouth over yours in a fervent kiss that stole your breath from you.

The hardness of his pubic bone rocked over your clit with each of his thrusts in this position, and each press of his body against yours brought you one step closer to ecstasy. These ‘steps’ weren’t a slow stroll either, they were more like a hurtling sprint. The familiar pressure within your pelvis started up again, but this time it didn’t alarm you. Every piston of Neteyam’s hips was hitting a pleasurable spot inside you that acted like a pump, building the pressure and winding it tighter and tighter.

Neteyam distractedly wondered to himself how Lo’ak had held out for as long as he did when he’d fucked you. Your core was a slippery vise around him, every thrust working his swollen cock from root to tip. His head was buried by the side of your face now as he groaned and panted. Your own cries were getting louder now, to his relief. He didn’t know how much longer he’d last…

“Fuck, paskalin, you’re driving me insane. I’m so close.” He grunted.

“Same. Keep going.” You kissed him again.

When the surge of ecstasy washed over you a second time, you relinquished your control and the pressure in your pelvis snapped with another orgasmic squirt. With your thighs cradling Neteyam’s hips and your arms raking his back, you felt him stiffen with his own climax, his thrusting becoming erratic as he roared his pleasure into the cushion under your head. A viscous heat seeped out from your core where you were still joined, a sensation that had been absent before with Lo’ak, which you now recognised was the evidence of Neteyam’s orgasm.

Adjusting himself so he wouldn’t crush you under his weight, Neteyam rolled onto his side. He tittered naughtily then and his grin was smug, “I told you I’d make you come. Welcome to the love shack.”

Recalling your foot-in-mouth innuendo from the previous night, you rolled your eyes and giggled, “Great Mother, who would’ve guessed that underneath the well-mannered gentleman that you’re such a wild beast.”

Warm skin enveloped your other side as Lo’ak shifted closer to join you, throwing a leg over one of yours and tangling you to him. He murmured by your temple when he placed a kiss there, “Think you’ll swing by again, sweet thing?”

Tilting your head back and craning your neck upward, you gave Lo’ak a deep kiss before turning to do the same to Neteyam, “Only if I can have you both to myself again.”

Lo’ak smirked, bending to kiss and nip at a gradually peaking nipple while Neteyam ran a hot hand down your torso to slip his fingers through your folds, slick with a combination of your own wetness and his seed. You could feel their cocks hardening again where they were pressed to either side of your hips.

By Eywa, stamina as well as skill? No wonder the women kept returning…

Neteyam eyed you and his response was a salacious murmur, “I believe that can be arranged, paskalin.”

PART III - Blurring Lines HERE

***~~~***

Author's Note: I'm quite sure this is filthiest piece I've ever written... 🫣I don't know how I pulled almost 7.5k of sexy stuff out of my brain, but I hope you all FELT this in all the right ways and all the right places... Three cheers for our two boys Neteyam & Lo'ak!! Woot woot! Thanks for reading this! Leave me a comment, I'd love to hear from you and thanks for all your likes and reblogs too! 😘

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grandline-fics · 18 days

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Shifting Focus

DESCRIPTION: The moment they began to see you differently

WARNINGS: None

CHARACTERS: Shanks, Kid, Smoker | Sanji, Law

WORDS: 2,850

A/N: Another part of this in honour of reaching 500 followers. This was my first time writing for Smoker so here's hoping you all enjoy!

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

---------------

SHANKS

Everyone knew Shanks was a flirt, a laidback charmer who always had a smile and a wink at the ready for the next pretty face he came across. No-one was meant to really take it seriously, to see anything that happened to be more than what it was, a fleeting moment of enjoyment for both sides. Serious feelings never truly came into play, it was easier that way given that he was always on the move. To let anyone believe he was the settling down type would have been cruel and he didn’t find any enjoyment in hurting people needlessly, unless they were his enemy of course. Everyone in the crew were more than used to his mannerisms, yourself included. You could understand his worldview on the matter however you never entertained him when he chose to flirt with you. Something that he finally started to notice and when he did, he couldn’t let it go.

“Do I repulse you?” He asked suddenly one evening causing you to choke on your coffee. Your body tensed and you forced the liquid down your throat, wincing at the painful burn it caused and sharp tightness in your throat. You’d needed it to stay awake for your night shift but after that, you set the mostly untouched mug aside. Looking to your side you saw your captain staring at you intently, a small pout playing at his lips making you believe he was picking his words carefully to seem like he was keeping the conversation light. However underneath the joking you could tell there was a real question there.

“If you repulsed me Cap, I wouldn’t have joined your crew, now would I?” You answered, looking back down to the sea chart in your hands, needing to keep track of any notable features coming into view. “What is it you really want to ask me?”

“I’ve noticed something about you.” Shanks began, scowling when you looked away from him to continue your work. You were always so task-oriented and levelheaded that even when you were joking with another member of the crew, you were still focused on what was needed to be done. Finally you looked up at Shanks again, eyebrows raised slightly to invite him to keep talking. “You don’t flirt back.”

For a moment you had to think about what Shanks was getting at but finally you let out a laugh and lightly rolled your eyes. So he was in that kind of mood today. For a moment he almost had you by making you believe he was asking you a semi-serious question. Still smiling in amusement you shook your head and turned to go inside when a wind started to pick up. If you lost the charts in your hand it wouldn’t have been good. What you weren’t expecting was Shanks to follow you, with a sigh you settled down at your desk and sat back to stare at your captain who clearly wasn’t finished with this joke and you weren’t going to get any peace until you indulged him. “Am I being reprimanded for my lack of flirtation towards you, Cap? I’m surprised it’s affected you so much given how you’re never without company.”

“You flirt with the others on board.” Shanks pointed out, not really knowing why it was getting to him so much. Ever since he’d realised you’d joke around and tease the others on board but not him, it just kept gnawing at him. Shanks knew he shouldn’t get so irritated by it all but he just couldn’t help himself. He stepped closer until he was leaning of the edge of your desk, staring down at your calm expression. “So why not me?”

“I flirt with the others because it’s not serious and they know that.” You shrugged lightly, leaning back to regard your captain, a smile slowly pulling at your lips. “You, however are a different story, Cap.” With a breathy sigh you rose from your seat and Shanks’ earlier position meant you were now standing mere inches away from him, not quite touching but close enough for the warmth of your body to radiate into his. “If I gave in and flirted with you…I don’t think I’d be able to stop it as just a joke. I don’t have the same self-control that you do.” You murmured, tilting your head up slightly so your breath could softly dance against his skin. Satisfied that that should be enough for your Captain’s need for the joke to end you took a step back and grinned before sitting down at your desk.

With your presence no longer engulfing his, Shanks blinked and immediately wanted more. More of that rush, that spark, more of you. However fate had other plans when Lucky Roux called for him and he had to do his duties as the Captain. Sharply letting out a huff of annoyance, Shanks reluctantly left your side to head onto the deck. When he reached the doorway, he couldn’t help but look over his shoulder and see your attention already drawn back to your work. Yeah, this was far from over.

KID

There was never a dull moment on the Victoria Punk. Even on the calm days at sea, the heavy steps of the Captain and the usual tone of conversation was carried at a volume louder than some other ships were used to. But that was what you liked about it. It was only when the ship was deathly quiet outside of sleeping hours that any of you felt the need to worry. The seas were calm and laughter surrounded you all as you sat in the living quarters with plenty of drink to see you all through to morning if you wanted.

Currently you were all playing a game with the bounty posters you’d all seemed to collect. It was a simple enough form of ‘Kiss, Marry, Kill’ by selecting three posters from the pile however each person that had to answer ended up getting drawn into a fierce debate about their answers. If you didn’t want to answer on your turn however, you had to drink. It was an empty punishment since all of you were drinking happily regardless.

“Look I stand by my answer okay?!” Wire shouted, unable to keep the grin from his face knowing the argument was in good spirits. “I had the worst draw out of them all so far, you guys have been getting it easy.”

“Just hurry up and pick my three okay?” You grinned, sitting up from your lounged position to get a better look for your turn. Wire reached over to the pile of posters lying face down on the table and picked three at random, slowly flipping them over to reveal Blackbeard, Franky, and Bartolomelo. Grinning you sat back down into your previous position. “Kiss Bartolomelo, Marry Franky, Kill Blackbeard. Easy.”

“Not that I’d argue with the decisions, you just made up your mind so quickly…” Killer noted, a grin in his voice as his face remained hidden by his mask. You rolled your eyes and grinned.

“Nothing to think about, Blackbeard is…ugh” you suppressed a shudder at the mere thought of the Emperor. “Franky is dependable and skilled, and fun from what we saw when we allied with them so marrying him wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

“You didn’t think about Bartolomelo as marriage material?” Kid asked with a grin and you laughed up at your Captain who you’d been leaning against for a majority of the night.

“No way, he’s a major Strawhat fanboy. I’d be competing against that entire crew for his attention, sadly we just weren’t meant to be.”

“Yeah, you’re real heartbroken about it I see.” Kid laughed along with you and the others. The game continued for another while, some of the crew stopping from being too drunk to stay awake while others began to head for their quarters. Those remaining all agreed this would be the last round and it meant you were to deal out three posters for Kid.

You were still far too comfortable lounging against your Captain so you quickly reached over, fumbling you flipped over the first three you could get your hands on and flopped back before even seeing who he had to choose from. From the sound of the stifled laughter you could tell his options were going to be good. With an anticipated grin you turned on your side and pushed yourself up with your elbow only to become surprised to see your bounty on the table along with Buggy the Clown and Nico Robin. You couldn’t help but become curious about what your Captain would pick about you although you supposed as long as he didn’t pick you to kill it was all fine, it was just a game after all.

Kid suddenly felt tense and couldn’t help but look away from your printed face to the physical version of you. The you he suddenly became all too aware of. You’d been part of the crew forever and he’d never needed to see you as anything other than a valued member like the others. What if he said something that made you uncomfortable. But if he didn’t play then you could misread that too and make things worse. Fuck, why was he overthinking this? He had to finish the game and hope nothing more was said about it. “Kill the clown and kiss Robin.” He muttered quickly before looking away and draining the last of the alcohol in his mug.

“Aww you wanna marry me?” You cooed, the smile growing wider on your face. With everyone satisfied with a good ending to the game, the crew began to clear up their drinks and the bounty posters and move to turn in for the night. You got up with a groan and stretched out your arms, finally feeling the need to rest too. With a yawn you turned to Kid who was still sitting and smiled softly. “Not heading to bed, Kid?”

“Yeah, heading soon.” He grumbled lost in his own thoughts that were now occurring to him and you tilted your head, a frown falling on your lips. Quickly Kid realised you were going to worry and he recovered enough to smirk at you. “We need our rest, right? We’ve got a wedding to plan huh?” He forced the joke out, relieved to see you laugh and leave while wishing the rest in the room goodnight. When you were gone, Kid glared at Killer who was sitting far too relaxed for his liking. “When did you add their bounty to the pile, Kil?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about and you have no way of proving it.”

SMOKER

“Vice Admiral?” You paused in the middle of the G-5 Base corridor when you spotted the base commander leaning against the wall with his office just a few feet away. At the sound of your call he made no sign that he’d heard you. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for someone of his rank to get lost in thought especially if there were certain higher ups breathing down their neck or certain pirates occupying their minds. Adjusting the documents in your hands you approached the base commander. “Vice Admiral Smoker?” You asked again and moved to lightly touch his arm to get his attention.

At the same time, Smoker turned sharply and knocked into your hand causing you to drop your files in surprise. As the papers fluttered to the floor you kept your gaze on Smoker, concern growing in your eyes. His usual steely gaze seemed to have dimmed and you noticed the small tremor in his otherwise imposing frame. As one of the base’s medical staff your critical, scrutinising stare was pinpointing all that stood out to you. Since you were dealing with the commander himself, you felt you had to be somewhat nicer and couldn’t just order him to rest. “Are you sick?” You asked and immediately his stare sharpened at the implication.

“I’m fine.” Smoker’s answer was gruff as to be expected but you could hear the slight shake that could have been missed had you not been listening out for it. When he saw you weren’t fooled he finally took a proper look at you and through his mind that was getting foggier by the second he managed to recognise who you were and what department you worked for on the base. Inwardly he cursed his bad luck. He’d been trying to get to the safety of his office but a dizzy spell hit him hard and he had to stop to catch his breath just mere seconds before you’d approached him. Smoker didn’t want to be babied, getting sick was a rarity for him. He just wanted to get to his room and sit there in peace until he felt a little better. No one else had noticed his state all day, why did he get cursed with bad luck like this at the final moment? He just needed to get rid of you before you tried to take a closer look at him. “Aren’t you going to pick up your documents?”

“Well since you're not sick and are partly responsible for me dropping them. You can surely help me lift them, right Vice Admiral?” Your question was so sweet and innocent but still Smoker glared at the challenge in your eyes. In any of his previous interactions with you, you’d seemed so reserved and quiet but now he could see another side to you. With a grunt, Smoker lowered himself to the floor, trying to fight the wave of dizziness and aches rolling down his body. Mentally he cursed you as you smoothly crouched down and started collecting sheets at a pace far faster than he was able to. When Smoker was focused on the task you’d given him, you struck. Your hand touched his forehead before he could react and you scowled at the man in disapproval. “You’re burning up with a fever. You’re going to your room and resting.”

Your order left no room for disagreement and before Smoker’s mind could truly catch up, he found himself walking into his room with you. When he was lying on his bed you set about gathering what was needed to help his fever and aches before making yourself comfortable at his desk to fix the scattered documents into their right files again. From the small layer of dust gathering on the surface you could tell Smoker didn’t use it much, being a man of action over paperwork. “You don’t need to stay, I’m fine.” Smoker grumbled.

“The second I leave, you’ll rest for an hour at most and call yourself cured. I’m not leaving until I’m happy you’re actually fine.”

“An hour is all I need.”

“Didn’t know you had a medical degree.” You noted dryly. “Do I call you Doctor Vice Admiral Smoker or Vice Admiral Doctor Smoker?” It surprised you when Smoker’s deep laugh rumbled through the air and a small smile graced your lips at the sound. Perhaps he should laugh more, it was a nice sound and it would help make him more approachable to some people.

“You can call me whatever you want.” Smoker mumbled, it wasn’t often people stood up to him like this and he had to admit it was refreshing to see. Unable to fight it, Smoker yawned as his body was beginning to give in to its need for rest. When you heard the telltale signs of him falling asleep you let out a sigh of relief that the medicine you’d given him was started to take effect.

In the early hours of the morning, Smoker stirred at the soft feeling of fingers lightly running through his hair. It was a comforting feeling and still under the haze of sleep that hadn’t fully left him, his mind hadn’t properly caught up so he let himself relax into the feeling. Reaching up he curled his fingers around your wrist holding your hand in place as his eyes slowly opened and met your face.

“Your fever’s finally regulated.” You informed him gently, keeping mindful of the time and not wanting to speak too loudly. “If you promise to drink more fluids and stay in bed until at least late morning I can leave.”

“I promise, thanks Doc.” Smoker mumbled with a half-smile, stifling a small yawn and letting his eyes fall closed again but when he didn’t hear you leave he opened his eyes again to see you still standing there. “Problem?”

“Um, kinda need my hand back…or did you want me to stay?” you laughed softly, trying to hold back the grin when Smoker tensed and quickly let go of your wrist, allowing you to leave. “Remember your promise.” You reminded him as you left, smiling to yourself as you left to your room with the memory of Smoker’s blushing, embarrassed expression fresh in your mind. You had to admit it was pretty cute to see.

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wandasfifthwife · 1 month

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(1) a classic get-together | I got a bad idea series

—> masterlist

southern!wandanat x fem!city-girl reader

tw: mention of past animal death (horse), alcohol discussion and consumption (r), r gets drunk, messy family dynamics, R is an emotional drunk lmao (enjoy the embarrassment), introduction chapter (I’m sorry if it’s boring, but this sets up the story haha)

a/n: NOT proofread. I’m so sorry for the choppy writing and if there’s any grammar or spelling errors. I’m publishing this right after I had finished writing it. Please be patience with me, I’ll edit later tonight :)

The fields that stretch in for miles and fresh breeze brings a sense of nostalgia when you step out from the car. Small rocks grind together under your feet as you make your way up towards the door. You greet your grandparents with a smile, shrugging your bag further onto your back to hug them comfortably.

“Oh dear, let me grab that for you.”

Your grandpa reaches behind you to remove the weight from your back. You thank him and turn back to your grandma.

“It’s so good to see you,” she starts, “how’s the job doing?”

“Good, pretty good.”

Your mom comes up behind you, resting a hand on your shoulder, “my sister’s family is coming behind us. Can you help them bring their stuff inside?”

You nod at her request, kicking your shoes off and following them inside. Being in the city you’ve had a few dreams about their home. Now being back in town, it feels unreal.

“You can take the guest room upstairs, I have set some blankets out since our AC doesn’t work very well keeping the chill out.”

You thank her and walk behind your grandfather towards the stairway. Each step elicits a cracking sound from the old wooden stairs. He sets your stuff on the bed and pulls you into another hug.

“It’s so good to see you again, it’s been what, almost five years?”

“That’s too long,” you relax into the hug, “it’s good to see you too.”

“We got a new horse. We’d love for you to take him out sometime to get him used to another rider.”

“Well, I can try later in the week.”

He leaves you alone, giving you time to unload your stuff into the drawers. You’re tucking your duffel under the bed when excited voices from below float into the room. There were five more entering into the room, exchanging hugs with one another.

You wonder down the stairs, a smile on your face as you greet everyone you from across. Keeping true to your promise, you walk out to their car to carry any extra luggage they had during their drive down. Your aunt pulls you into probably the tenth hug you’ve had today, and definitely not the last.

“You’ve grown so much. Last I saw you was when you were a senior in high school.”

“And since then you’ve had another son,” you squeeze her hands to show your elation, “congrats.”

She laughs and waves you off, “thank you. How’s your job been treating you?”

“It’s good,” you almost wheeze from the weight of her suitcase. Trying to drag it up the stairs was impossible, she had to help you lift.

Each hour passed brought more people until almost fifty people were residing in the house. There weren’t enough rooms for everyone. Those who didn’t have a room had booked a hotel room not too far away.

It was a flurry of people back to back. The building wasn’t small, but it wasn’t the best space to host multiple family members.

A surprised noise sounds from you when your grandpa comes up behind you and drags you towards his bedroom.

“I’ve been re-fixing the fence out there after that storm a couple weeks ago, and I found this. I want to give it to you before I forget.”

He places a heavy object into your hands. You turn your wrist, flipping the item to look at it better.

“Is this the international coin I lost as a kid?”

He nods and you look at him crazy, “how?”

“You raved over that. Came and told me you were going to be an archeologist. Now here you are in corporate.”

You roll your eyes dramatically and put it in your back pocket, “life isn’t very fair. I would have done that if I could understand math.”

“That’s alright. I’m not good at math either, I leave that to my wife,” he says with a weird laugh, leading you back into the hallway.

The youngest in the family, a cousin of yours, comes barreling towards the two of you. You’re quick to pick him up and rest him on your hip. Though having three younger siblings was a mess in and of itself, it helped you and other’s when you were able to care for the kids during events like these.

“While the others finish setting everything up, would you be alright with watching him until then?”

“I don’t mind,” your answer brings a smile to his face.

You wondered back into your bedroom, reaching into the old closet to grab a few things before heading back downstairs. He squirmed in your arms, whining about being let go so he could find the horses.

It was a matter of time before him, and the three other little ones, spent their time outside with the animals. They believed it was a 24/7 petting zoo where they could slap their hands on an animal for hours and laugh at every movement they made.

For now since the sun was beginning to set, the entertainment had to be inside. That news was seemingly the worse thing to tell him.

“But why?”

“Because it’s dark, there could be a fox out there. They’re not like the horses, they’ll bite.”

“Horses bite.”

“Yes, but for a different reason. That’s because you’re giving them food.”

He has yet to understand that horses can be devils, but now isn’t the time to scare him of the one thing he enjoys seeing. Your aunt is happy to see you with him, and she tells you such.

“Oh it’s no problem.”

“Thank you still for watching him. Once everything is set I can take him.”

“All good. I’ve done this for most of my life it’s like second nature.”

With a squeeze to your shoulder, she’s left to head back to chatting with your parents.

Your grandfather brings you to sit on the couch, letting your cousin play on the almost uncomfortable rug.

“We now have a minute to talk. How’s New York?”

“It’s beautiful, definitely smells at times.”

“Ah, just like here. Your mom told me when you got here that you’re thinking of staying up there, is that right?”

“I think so,” you look down, watching your cousin, “I feel more at peace there.”

“You mean scooping up horse manure isn’t for you? Or hauling hay? Or driving an hour to the store to get more feed?”

“No, not anymore.”

He laughs, “and I was going to ask you to help around this week.”

“Oh,” you start to feel bad, “well I don’t mind—“

He jumps up from his seat, the action causing you to jerk back, “alrighty, thank you.”

He allows no do-overs as he wonders towards the front door. His hands come to grab a nearby person and he shoves them towards you.

“I watched you get roped into work.”

“I didn’t get roped in. I was going to help regardless, or else I’d be staying here for free.”

Your younger brother grins, “or maybe it’s because I’ve had to do all of it while you’ve been gone.”

“I know, you’ve told me this every day since I’ve gotten back.”

He shrugs, “it’s the truth.”

He reaches behind himself and reaches into the cooler, handing you a can. You go to move it out of your face, but he persists.

“I know you’re a lightweight, but one drink? Gonna turn down one?”

The door opens and another group you don’t recognize walks in, you’re taking it from his hands while he’s distracted. You crack the top off on the opener beside you.

“It’s not that I don’t want to be here, it’s that I don’t want to be here with so many people,” he tells you, jumping back when the bottle cap flings at him.

“That’s because you’re an introvert.”

“I can talk to people though.”

“Are you stupid? I’m not calling you awkward, I’m saying you don’t like crowds.”

“That’s the same thing.”

He watches you drink it with a wince, “you didn’t have to do all that to prove a point. You’re still a lightweight at the end of the night.”

“No, I did that because ma’s coming toward us.”

He gives you a faux pout as you get dragged off by your grandma. She brings you to the front of the house, past where a few people had gathered in random spots of the living room.

“I wanted to introduce you because I’m not sure if you remember who they are,” she begins, and her words hit a nerve. She acts like you have dementia after a five year break, but still you put your hand out.

“It’s nice to see you again.”

“You as well,” she responds, and it’s then you realize you don’t remember who they are. The room fades slightly as you wrack your already dizzy mind for something.

Your grandma looks at you funny, “have you had something to drink already?”

In the distance you swear you hear your brother laugh. The mood grows more awkward with each minute. You’re grateful for the people around giving a sense of community while you feel like strangers to those in front of you.

“Neighbors, right? I think we met just before I left for college.”

A short conversation later and the memories appear more clearly. The two talking with your grandparents just before they had driven you to the airport. It was short, but you’re thankful you remember as it allowed you to dodge your grandma’s last question.

Your grandma seats them in the sun room and promptly leaves the three of you, saying she needed to make sure her husband wasn’t ruining the labeling of food.

“How was college?”

You look to the one with a braid, the one whose hands were rough when they shook yours, “it was alright. I graduated.”

“Glad you did what you go to college for.”

Her delivery falls flat and it makes your heart race. Your eyes slightly water, the sight making her face squeeze into confusion.

“How much have you drank tonight?”

“One,” you say with a pitiful sniffle.

“Lightweight?”

You nod and they look at you in amusement. Your eyes follow where they’re looking and they land on the half full bottle in your hands, “oh whoops my bad. Actually this is my second.”

You lift the bottle with a proud look and one has the audacity to clap. You smile silly at the affection and ramble into your city life, delving deep into the tea between you and your boss. The two stay seated, hands interwoven as they enjoy the show you’re giving them.

The wall against your bicep is cold. With the way your body was warming, your skin chased after the feeling. You find your face leaning into it before your whole body is on the ground, right by the doorway.

You were sure you were maintaining wonderful conversation with the two new faces, but everything you remember was becoming a blur. It felt like ten seconds, but it happened open the span of ten minutes. The embarrassment had completely disappeared as you laid there unsuspecting, growing incredibly wasted.

One of the women, the one you recognize as short braid, sits beside you. She puts a hand to your forehead but you try to push it off.

“No,” you cry, “you’re mean.”

“Her face is burning,” she relays the information to her wife. The two look at you in amusement as well as concern.

“I’m burning because a beautiful woman is touching me.”

Your sober self is grateful she chose to ignore what you said. Hands lift you off the ground until you’re lying down on a softer surface, and definitely colder. The pressure on your arm leaves and it spirals you downwards.

You can hear them talking in the back, a man’s voice between them. What they’re saying, you can understand but you’re not grasping anything. With your mind focused on how the cold hand left you, nothing else seems to be your focus. It’s the creaking of the door shutting that feels like you’re drowning.

“Don’t leave me,” you look blearily at the door, “please.”

You hear a laugh, but it doesn’t register as anything other than someone mocking you.

“Fine, then leave me here like to always do.”

“Nobody’s leaving you.”

“No it’s okay. You just hate me”

The expression and dramatic nature exuding from you is hilarious. Every small laugh coming from you throws them off when more tears glisten down your cheeks

“Nobody here is upset at you, angel,” wanda’s hand rubs gentle circles against your back. You find yourself leaning into it, the tears stopping as your mind clears. The floor creeks and you’re being sit up.

“I don’t feel super great,” you mumble to them, “I’m sorry for being annoying.”

“Not annoying,” wanda responds and tilts to your head back, “I have some water and I’d like you to drink some, okay?”

After you’re laying back on the bed immediately. The world had begun to feel dizzying, almost nauseating when she held you upright. Without her hand there, you’d surely pass out.

The room is suddenly too quiet. You had tried to see them but the overhead light took a stab at your already overwhelming headache.

“We’re still here. How’re you feeling?”

“Death.”

Wanda laughs softly and Natasha feels your forehead again, “you don’t feel as hot.“

Your mother enters in then, and you attempt to sit up but you wince. A cry spewing from you, “I can’t see anymore, mom.”

She clicks her teeth, “mom told me you drank too much. Should’ve known. Thank you for helping, I can deal with her from here.”

Natasha’s wrists are enclosed in a tight embrace, your hands squeezing the life out of them with as much strength as you had.

“Please don’t leave me with her,” you whine, “she’ll toss me around.”

The clock beside them reads 11:28PM. She looked to it and sighed, deciding it was too late to deal with anything. Wanda stood from the bed, crossing the room to stand by her.

“I love her but she’s as stubborn as a mule.”

“Completely up to you, but we could her stay on our mattress downstairs?”

“That’s fine. I don’t think she’ll allow any of us to help her, I mean look at her.”

You were half lying in Natasha’s lap, tangled with her body. Dried tear marks lined your cheeks, dust from the floor lining your jeans.

It was a journey trying to drag your body down the hallway. A moment collapsed where you tripped over the rug. The best plan of action was Natasha carrying you princess style. Your grandma got a glimpse from where she sat in the living room.

She rushed to your side, “you taking her back to your place?”

“Only if that’s alright with you. She starts to cry almost everytime we begun to leave.”

“Absolutely,” she pats her shoulder with a slight laugh, “she got wasted, I could tell right away. I’ll have to talk to her brother, he’s collapsed on her bed right now. I’m sure he’s initiating something.”

They wish you a goodnight, stepping back and letting them through. You tilt your head back once they’ve stepped outside.

“Feels nice.”

You back far enough that Wanda reaches a hand to cup your head. Natasha adjusts her hold on you while looking to Wanda.

“I’m betting she’s going to get sick. Our guest room is the closest to the bathroom?”

“I won’t get sick of you,” you tuck your head under her neck. The first minute of the breeze was wonderful, but since then and due to your lack of layers, you’re relying on her body heat.

It gets darker the further you walk from the house. Wanda takes out her phone, using the flashlight to help guide their steps.

The pond nearby holds a connection of small critters, their sounds echoing through the trees. The married couple makes small conversation. Every two minutes they’re trying to keep you awake, but it grew difficult.

“Hey, stay awake. We’re almost there, you can see the porch light.”

“I can’t see shit, I’m drunk.”

Natasha laughs at the quip, enjoying the look of annoyance on her wife’s face. Wanda walks up the porch first, the keys jingling in her hand as she searches for the right one. Their home smells like clean fabrics and floral perfume. Your eyes grow heavy, each step and soft sound luring you in deeper. The gentle nudge does nothing to stop you completely falling under this time.

masterlist | next chapter

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@simpforlizzie @huggingkoalas @yvungmxshroom @hella-hecka-gay @sgm616

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mypoisonedvine · 8 months

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𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 | neil lewis x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | a visit to gumshoe video could go one of two ways... but one way or another, you're gonna get him.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | varies

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut (18+ only), enemies to lovers, nothing too terrible just neil and reader bullying each other

this is a choose your own ending fic!! after the introduction, click to choose which way you want the story to go! each ending will have its own warnings section, so read those as well!

Technically, you always dressed well for work. Corporate jobs require professional attire, obviously; but you were slightly overdressed today, and it wasn’t to go into the office.

Tight skirt and matching blazer, a silky-satin button-up, black heels, and thigh-high stockings with a seam up the back. No, this wasn't how you dressed for a day in the office… this was how you dressed when you were closing a deal.

A little bell dinged as you walked into Gumshoe Video, and you looked around for a moment after you stepped inside: the decorations were… plentiful, and kitschy. The displays were so small, and just a quick glance at some of the shelves had you frowning in confusion. These are some seriously deep cuts… how do they make any money at this place?

Lucien came bounding up to you in an instant, hands pressed tight against his horribly out-of-fashion skinny jeans as if to hide that they were clammy already. "Do you, uh, need help finding anything?" he asked.

You offered him a pitying smile, about to offer him a friendly ‘no thanks, but’ and then tell him why you were really here… but you were interrupted.

Jonathan, who had taken a break from sipping on a soda behind the counter, coughed to get Lucien's attention as he quickly shook his head. He didn't seem to understand, though, looking back at you with his brows furrowed.

"Uh, ignore him,” Lucien laughed nervously. “Are you looking for a rental?"

"Dude, she's not here to get a movie!" Jonathan snapped. "Who dresses like that to pick up a tape?!"

"Maybe she's on her way to work!" Lucien returned sharply. "Or maybe she just came from somewhere!"

"Where?"

"My dreams!"

"No, your friend is right, I'm not here to pick up a movie," you admitted, and Lucien looked at you nervously.

"You, uh, don't like movies?" he wondered.

"I love them actually, but—"

The door to the office swung open, with Neil glaring at you from the other side of it. "You," he announced with disdain.

"—but I'm here to speak with the owner," you finished, tilting your head and grinning at Neil.

"We have nothing to speak about," Neil assured you as he walked towards you.

"We have multiple opportunities to discuss," you disagreed, "and my employers are very anxious that I deliver this message to you, so if we could please speak in your office—"

"Her employers? Is this chick in the mob?!" Lucien blurted out fearfully. "Neil, I know money's tight, but— oh fuck, was that 'small business loan' just a cover—"

"She's not from the mafia," Neil sighed. "They actually have some morals."

You extended a hand to introduce yourself to Lucien. After your name, you told him your job: "Head of Acquisitions, Media Giant, LLC."

Jonathan coughed again, poorly covering the sound of him saying "blood-sucking harpy" under his breath.

You smiled at him; "You really should get that cough checked out," you suggested pointedly.

“Whatever it is your puppet-masters want you to discuss with me,” Neil began, wiggling his fingers as if pantomiming a little marionette show, “you can take right over there into our women’s restrooms and shove directly up your ass.”

“Oh, that’s cute,” you smiled, “I bet you’ve been saving that one since our last little visit. Can we go to your office now?”

“No, you can’t go in there— we just had the priest come by and bless it, we wouldn’t want your feet to burn now, would we?” Neil snarked in return.

“Fine— get it out of your system,” you encouraged. “Say whatever’s been stuck in that pretty little head for the last month waiting for me to come back, and then we can have our meeting, alright?”

“I— well, uh—” Neil stalled, looking a little flustered as he suddenly leaned on a shelf of tapes with one hand. “You think I’m pretty?” he mumbled nervously, running his free hand through his hair— only to put a little too much weight on the shelf and nearly tilt it over, having to scramble to catch it and make sure it was balanced again.

“Dude, pull yourself together,” Jonathan snapped at him, and Neil glared at him before looking back at you.

“Fine, okay— we can have a very brief conversation in my office,” Neil offered with a sigh, motioning for you to follow him, “but it’s going to go the same way it did last time: with me telling you hell no and you having to do the walk of shame back to your headquarters.”

“Looking forward to it,” you smiled, waving goodbye to the other men before stepping into Neil’s office as he shut the door behind you.

You watched him step around you to sit at his desk, looking at you expectantly with his legs spread and his fingers interwoven in his lap.

“Am I allowed to ask why you’re dressed like a cowboy, by the way?” you asked with a raised eyebrow, and he frowned at you as he tossed aside the hat and slipped the poncho off over his head, leaving just a much more normal outfit of jeans and a button-up underneath.

“We’re running a special on Westerns,” he explained, “it’s fun, okay? Not that you would know fun if it smacked you on the ass and called you sweetcheeks.”

“Honey, that’s just what I call a Friday night,” you smirked as you stepped a little closer leaning against the side of his desk as he swallowed thickly. You couldn’t just sit across from him— you needed to keep the upper hand. “But I’m here for business. Let’s talk business, shall we?”

“Right, business,” he frowned. “I’m guessing your business here today is trying to buy my store, again?”

“Something like that,” you relented.

“You know, I guess I should take it as a compliment,” he grinned, leaning back further in the chair. “Clearly, you know I’m a threat.”

“Please,” you rolled your eyes, “we’re a Fortune 500 company, and you’re a guy wearing a poncho.”

“I took off the poncho!” he defended.

“So you’re… just a guy, then,” you corrected. “The point is, we’re not worried about you stealing our business at all. We just think this location is going to waste.”

“You want the real estate?” he realized.

“You’re in a perfect spot, you know,” you informed him, “you just need… a little more help utilizing it.”

He sneered at you sharply. “I don’t want anything from you.”

“You only hate me so much because you resent success,” you informed him with a sigh. “Just because you’re broke and proud doesn’t mean making money is a sin.”

“It is when you put making money above everything else,” he replied, “like creativity and community and the authentic customer experience—”

“How exactly does Media Giant conflict with those things?” you scoffed. “We’re a company founded on creativity— and we always foster community—”

“Spare me the doublespeak, Big Brother,” Neil scoffed, “you’re just a bunch of— of robots! Your whole company, it’s just full of people trying to make a quick buck, top to bottom: you think the people in the back at McDonald’s give a fuck about food? That’s what you are, the McDonald’s of the film industry. You’d probably let a monkey work there if it could wear a nametag and convince someone to rent Fast and Furious Fifty or whatever the fuck.”

“Fine,” you sighed, “let’s just say for a moment that you’re right. That my company is so terrible because we don’t employ people like you.”

He relaxed for a second, and you leaned in closer in hopes that he was really listening.

“This is your chance to fix that!” you explained. “You can save us from the inside out, you know. You can start from the bottom, be our best sales guy, and then it turns into a promotion and a raise and soon you’re climbing the corporate ladder— where you can make some real change.”

He shook his head, laughing a little. “That’s not actually possible, it’s just a fantasy you tell all your little minions to keep them compliant.”

“It’s what I did,” you shrugged.

“You?” he realized with a laugh. “You, in one of those navy vests and nametags, selling people tapes?”

“I’m sort of a cinephile,” you admitted. “I wanted a job where I could talk about movies all day— and thanks to me, that Media Giant location rented out more copies of The Seventh Seal than all the rest combined.”

He stood up quickly, stepping closer to where you sat on his desk. “Y-you like The Seventh Seal?”

“It’s a masterpiece,” you answered, speaking a little softer as he was so close, “Bergman is a genius.”

A strange look crossed over his face, a heavy-lidded sort of look as he examined you. “Tarantino?”

“Overrated, but not bad,” you replied quickly.

“Tarkovsky?”

“Good, but hard to watch.”

“Lynch?”

You scoffed; “Don’t insult me.”

He laughed a little, crossing his arms and looking away from you. “You could be one of the good ones,” he realized, “but you sold out. And now you’re just a suit.”

“It’s not so bad,” you smirked, “I think you’d like a little more… structure, given the chance.”

“And that’s what you’re offering?” he pressed, and you nodded.

“We’ll let you keep the name, your employees… most of the decoration,” you offered, “you’ll just be technically a Media Giant franchise. You have nothing to lose, and so much fucking money to gain.”

He sighed a little, looking at you again. You could tell he was considering it, but not very thoroughly. All you could do was hope for the best, and wait for an answer…

CLICK HERE FOR THE SUB!NEIL ENDING

CLICK HERE FOR THE DOM!NEIL ENDING

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis smut #dom!neil lewis smut #sub!neil lewis smut

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macabre-mangled · 8 months

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More To Grab

Astarion x Curvy/Thick!Reader

Warnings: canon typical violence, blood sucking, mostly fluff, talk about body insecurities

A/N: this doesn’t take place in a specific time in the game but you can assume it’s after that confession scene

gif not mine ^^^

You could feel his eyes on you. There was something undetectable in them. It was hard to place but it almost seemed as though it was admiration. But that couldn’t be! He never said anything about his feelings about you. Surely you think you’re imagining it. It felt strange. His eyes not being blown with lust. But instead blown with something akin to affection. His scarlet eyes were focused, he hasn’t noticed that you know he’s looking at you. You follow his gaze to the love handles and extra pudge at your hips that is exposed by your father racey top. Ahhh. So it was lust. At least that’s what you thought.

“Astarion?”

“Hmm? Oh! Hello darling! Don’t mind me, just staring at your lovely and full body.”

You could see the blush decorating his cheeks but his confidence never faltered. However the lingering looks from the closed minded villagers dimmed your own. Their judge mental stares were enough for you to feel yourself shrinking. The other party members took notice quickly. Shadowheart enters your vision and whisks you away before you could dwell on it longer. You were all sat by the fire. On the outskirts of the village. You were listening to Wyll tell a story, well you were half listening. You were still thinking about the events of earlier today and it didn’t go unnoticed by a certain companion of yours. His saccharine eyes were filled with concern as he stared. He knows that you’re going to continue thinking about it all night. And he knows you shouldn’t.

“Come Darling, let’s have a little chat.”

Astarion whispers in your ear and placed a hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you towards his tent. He leans forward to look you in the eyes. His own filled with that same look that you couldn’t decipher. As you look closer you can see that he has some blood left on his lips and teeth. Presumably from his last meal. He quickly noticed your gaze on his mouth and chuckles. It’s deep and throaty. Sending shivers through your body. Warming you from the inside. His eyes glowing in the moonlight. Reminding you of a cat’s or perhaps an owlbear. It looks predatory to those who don’t know how to read his expressions. But to you it’s simply one of interest and curiosity. Before you can think any further you feel his hands squeeze your stomach. Softly kneading as if you were dough. His face lights up at the feeling and he pulls you closer. His hands wander and squeeze throughout your entire body. Hands kneading anything he can reach.

“When I said I love your body love, I meant it. You’re like a deity to me.”

“Really? But I’m-

He cuts you off before you can finish that sentence.

“Chubby? Yes I know darling. But there’s nothing wrong with that. In fact I adore it. I love feeling your body against mine and I especially love the way it looks when you’re naked.”

You scoff at his words but he continues nonetheless.

“And I love it because it’s you. I’d love you no matter what body you have. But I do adore your body. There’s more to grab. And to hold at night.”

You felt his arms tighten around you as he pulls you closer. His hands rubbing circles against your back. Humming softly. You’d probably have the same fear again but you knew he’d squash it.

#x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #writers on tumblr #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion romance #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate iii #baldurs gate x reader #baldurs gate imagine #bg3 astarion #bg3 #bg3 x reader

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starlightxsvt · 11 months

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Bloodily Safe | j.ww

pairing ➳ psychopath!wonwoo x fem!reader

genre ➳ psychological thriller? camgirl au(read note below), college au, smut

word count ➳ 18.5k

warnings ➳ toxic relationship, blackmailing, drinking, descriptive domestic abuse, death, manipulation, threatening, fingering, slapping, choking, marking, cum eating, degradation, virgin sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, humiliation kink, pain kink, psychopathic behaviours, very descriptive violence, blood, rape attempt, arson, murder (lmk if I forgot smth)

synopsis ➳ you have a little secret. one you are desperately hiding. yet the boy you have a crush on has figured it out. now a game of cat and mouse has begun. how do you make it out alive?

disclaimer:❗ I am, by no means an expert in behavioural abnormalities so please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction. I tweaked the story and their characteristics to my needs so please don't take this seriously. Also, this fic contains some highly sensitive topics so please read the warnings carefully. Do not interact if you are sensitive to these things ❗

note: reader isn't a camgirl in the typical sense, she basically reads erotica on live.

loosely based on the kdrama shadow beauty

The glaring red light of the camera lens blinks at you as pause for a moment between your reading. Your tablet sits on your lap, glowing brightly in the lowly lit room as 8 thousand viewers watch you live through the lens.

With a sigh, you continue reading in your best teasing voice.

Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream as you feel him release inside you, making you clench. You’re not surprised when he doesn’t stop but continues thrusting inside you, far from being done with you and you feel another orgasm impending. Your pussy hurts in the best ways possible and just thinking about coming once again have your toes curling.

Surprising you, one of his hands move onto your neck, gripping it firmly and applying just enough pressure to make your body curl up and see stars. It triggers your orgasm, multiplying it by hundreds and seeing the godlike man on top of you, reaching his high, his dark, predatory eyes trained on you makes you go off like a rocket. You swear you see God himself as your body completely lets go and you feel like you’re floating in a place of pure bliss. The feeling of him releasing inside you makes you shudder before he slips out and shuffles on the bed, probably cleaning you up but you’re too gone to care.

With a blissful smile and a hazy mind, you let sleep take you.

"That will be all for today guys. Thank you so much for tuning in. I'll be back on Thursday night!" You wave at the camera as soon as you finish and do your signature pose— making half hearts on your cheeks with your hands as the viewers leave comments asking you to stay a bit longer. Sending a flying kiss towards the camera you turn off your live and watch as the screen loads to show you how much you've earned for the two-hour live. Once the number pops up, you sigh with satisfaction and finally, take off the mask that you wear to conceal your identity.

After all, you wouldn't want people, especially your classmates or professors to find out you read erotica live in skimpy underwear and flirt with people to earn some extra bucks.

Well, a girl's gotta do what she gotta do.

Quickly changing out of the uncomfortable lingerie, you put on a comfortable t-shirt and crawl to bed with your laptop to check if the money has been transferred to your account. The camming website takes 20% of whatever you earn from each live yet the amount left is enough for you to make your work worthwhile.

Camming was never in your mind at all, even in your wildest dreams. Yet when your mother fell sick last year and the medical bills started piling up, you knew you had to find some easy way to earn good money. Then, one day, you overheard a couple of girls in class talking about camming and how good the money is.

Simply curious, you visited the website only to be unlocked to a whole new world. Thousands of people did a variety of adult content there but you were not brave enough to get naked from the start. So you opted for a safer option, reading erotica on live while wearing lingerie and flirting with the camera.

The first time you did it was only to test the waters using whatever equipment you had at hand but surprisingly, the response you got shocked you. So it started, you doing lives two days a week and earning enough money to pay for your mother's treatment and your college bills.

nerdycatboy wants to chat with you

The notification appears on your screen, telling you someone wants to talk to you privately on the camming website. You generally block these messages as most of them ask for nudes or send dick picks. Still, you click on it and watch as three dots appear, your fingers hovering over the block option, ready to press it as soon as the sender sends something inappropriate.

Surprising you, the message reads:

[nerdycatboy]: Hello, cherrybaby!

Today was the second time I watched your live.

You have a really beautiful voice.

I don't frequent these sites but I opened an account just to send you tips. Hope you received them.

Somewhat flattered, you type out a reply.

[you]: Thank you so much. I'm flattered to hear that. And yes, I received them.

[nerdycatboy]: You're welcome.

Also, I wanted to tell you something.

[you]: Sure.

[nerdycatboy]: I know who you are.

[you]: Excuse me?

[nerdycatboy]: ______. ______ of the Psychology department, Seoul University.

You're studying on scholarship.

Wanna know something funny?

I am your classmate ;D

Your throat feels something akin to a desert as you blink at the screen, praying for it to be a hallucination. The words, however, don't change and the daunting realization hits you.

Someone has figured out your identity.

Someone knows it's you.

But who?

Shit, who? Who could it possibly be?

You share your classes with almost eighty other people and it's impossible to guess this... stalker.

You're absolutely fucked.

It has only been a month since college started and you are doomed. What if whoever this is, exposes your identity and you are expelled?

Dear almighty, please let this be a dream.

A sudden ping! alerts you about another message, making you jump. Carefully, you open the chat to see what your stalker has to say.

[nerdycatboy]: Come on now, don't leave me on read.

You wouldn't want me to get angry now, would you?

A squeak of despair leaves your lips as your fingers nervously hover over the keyboard.

[you]: What do you want?

[nerdycatboy]: To play a game.

This really isn't looking good.

[you]: Please, just leave me alone.

[nerdycatboy]: Ey, where's the fun in that? Come on now, we'll just play silly little games.

You stare at the screen, your world coming down crashing on you as you wonder in the back of your mind, whether you should stop camming for good. Even if you wanted to, it's not possible.

Who's gonna pay for your mom's bills?

[nerdycatboy]: You there?

[you]: Yes.

[nerdycatboy]: Good. I'll come again before your next live. We're gonna play a little game then, okay?

You stare at the screen in silence.

[you]: Okay.

[nerdycatboy]: That's a good girl. In the meantime, have fun trying to figure out who I am. We see each other every day after all. It's just that you wouldn't know who I am.

You grind your teeth, holding back the urge to type all sorts of curse words you can think of.

[nerdycatboy]: Bye bye, now. Sleep tight.

[you]: Fuck you, loser.

You slam your laptop shut and lie in silence, curled up in your bed. The only way out seems to be to permanently delete your account but that is not an option for you. It is also quite literally impossible for you to figure out who it is. You don't even know if it's a guy or a girl or a goddamn fucking alien.

As the night grows deeper you only start to get more anxious and only when the sun starts to rise in the sky, do you fall asleep, your dreams plagued by the haunting messages from earlier.

II.

"_____? _____!"

The deep voice jolts you awake as you blink around, taking time to realize that you've fallen asleep on your desk during the lecture which now seems to have ended as you see everyone around you packing their bags and leaving.

A man stands next to your desk, holding a few sheets of paper towards you and you blink at them, confused.

"The professor gave us the answer sheet for last week's quiz. You seem to have fallen asleep during class." He says.

Your brain finally starts functioning just enough to realize it's Wonwoo talking to you.

Jeon Wonwoo.

The famous nerd, the genius, the pro gamer, the campus crush, the it boy and...

The man of your dreams.

"Right! Right, thank you," you croak, reaching for the sheets with one hand while trying to wipe the corners of your mouth for any drool.

"It's alright." He replies, as impassive as ever. His expression remains somber as always as he regards you through his glasses. Sometimes you wonder if he's a robot. Even though you have known him since high school, you've yet to see the man smile or shout or show any vivid emotion. He has always been the quiet type, keeping to himself, always studying or doing whatever intelligent people does.

He was the most popular guy in high school, loved by all, even the teachers, because of his perfect and polite demeanor and extraordinary results that got him many awards at the national level. The fame followed him to college too as you have seen in the last two months; with women and even some men flocking around him. You are not ashamed to admit you are one of them too, but not like it matters.

Jeon Wonwoo seems to be living in a completely different world.

"No, thanks, really." You reply, slightly awkward, not knowing what else to say exactly. He nods and slings his backpack over his shoulder and turns around to walk away. He seems to have a thought as he turns his head and asks, "Rough night? I haven't seen you doze off in class ever. You are always on top of your game."

Holy shit, that is the most amount of words he has spoken to you. Scratch that, that's the most you've ever heard him speak at a time.

And more importantly, he has been paying attention to you?? He notices you enough to know that you don't doze off?

Swallowing, you try not to let your face break out into a grin. "Yeah kind of," you mumble. He nods and spares you a glance before walking out of the classroom as you watch his lean, athletic frame from behind, a soft sigh escaping from your lips.

After he's gone, you pack up your stuff, mentally face-palming yourself for falling asleep during class. Not only did you fail to keep an eye out for your stalker but you also made a fool of yourself in front of Wonwoo.

What a great day!

III.

The next Thursday, a delivery from an anonymous person comes to you just a couple of hours before your live. A handwritten note sits on top as you open the package and your gut sinks once you realize who it's from.

Hello there, little cherry!

Please accept my lovely gift. Wear it in your live today unless you want your secret to be out ;)

Also, wear something black with it.

Love, your new best friend!

You crumple the note in your hand as you eye the package nervously, dread filling your veins as your mind tries to conjure what the item might be. Hands shaky, you reach for it to rip it open and then stand in silence as you gaze at it for a while.

The asshole sent you a cat costume.

A sexy cat costume.

More specifically a pair of black cat ears, a cat mask, a pair of paws and a... fucking tail.

Absolutely mortified at the idea of wearing these provocative items on live, you sink onto the floor, an utter sense of despair settling over you.

Sweet lord, this has to be a joke.

Quickly logging in to the camming website you type your new best friend a message.

[you]: You're kidding me, right? Please tell me this is a joke.

The asshole is very quick to reply.

[nerdycatboy]: I see you have received my gift. No, little cherry, I am not kidding.

You grind your teeth, eyes burning holes in the screen.

[you]: I can't wear that on live!

[nerdycatboy]: Why not? You'll look absolutely lovely. The black really goes with your skin tone.

Oh for fucks sake.

[you]: Are you a fucking furry?

There are several minutes of silence.

[nerdycatboy]: You are fucking cute you know that? I don't remember the last time I laughed this hard.

[nerdycatboy]: No, cherry, I am not a furry. I just like cats and you remind me of one. I bet if I touched you, you'd purr real good.

You would never admit how that text sent a jolt of shiver down your spine and made your toes curl.

[you]: Please, can you not do this?

[nerdycatboy]: Come on now, don't whine. It won't get you anywhere.

[nerdycatboy]: I'll tune in later. If you do not do as you're told you know what will happen...

[nerdycatboy]: Ah, I forgot. You don't have to wear the tail during your live. It will be uncomfortable to sit with. Just send me a picture later, hmm?

[nerdycatboy]: Bye now.

Fucking mother of all fucks.

You toss your phone on the bed, groaning out loud in frustration. The cat ears and mask sit next to you on the floor, mocking you in silence.

IV.

"Hello, my darlings! This is your favorite cherrybaby, back with you. Today I'll be reading the second chapter of Sugar & Spice!"

The comments, as you expected, go nuts over your outfit— the black cat ears with the mask, covering the better half of the top of your face, the furry paws paired with a lace black lingerie. Despite your initial thoughts of ignoring them, you decide to address them with their never ending onslaught.

"Everyone is talking about my little props today." You pause for an awkward chuckle. "Well, I thought I would spice things up. Aren't these cute?"

You can hear the stiffness in your own voice. Shaking it off, you read a few comments while waiting for the live to reach your minimum number of tips, which only takes a few minutes today before you start reading the erotica.

Throughout the live, u have no idea if the asshole has joined in and you almost start to think that maybe he has left you for good, that maybe it was a one time prank. However during the last ten minutes of your live, as you proceed to wrap it up you see the notification that bring your eyes to your forehead.

nerdycatboy gifted you 500$.

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

As soon as your live is finished you shoot him a private message.

[you]: Didn't think you'd be that pleased to see me dressed up as a cat.

[nerdycatboy]: Oh cherry, I was pleased alright. You were an absolute sight for sore eyes.

[you]: Thank you I guess?

[nerdycatboy]: Welcome. Now send me some pictures. Wearing the tail.

[you]: Can you answer a question first?

[nerdycatboy]: No promises.

You sigh. Here goes.

[you]: Are you a guy or a girl?

[nerdycatboy]: Why? Wouldn't send me the pictures if I was a girl?

You roll your eyes.

[you]: Just trying to narrow down my suspect list.

[nerdycatboy]: Cute. Keep trying. I am a guy. The man straight out of your nightmares, as you will start to find out.

Okay...

There are many many guys in your class, literally half of the total students. It's impossible to figure him out among them.

[nerdycatboy]: Now the pictures, cherry. Don't keep me waiting.

His message breaks your train of thought as you sigh, defeated. Telling him to wait while you fetch the stupid cat tail and clip it on your underwear. You're too humiliated to look in the mirror so instead you place your tripod on the bed with your phone and pose a couple of times or so, one from the front and one from the back.

As you scroll through them, you cannot bring yourself to believe you just took these pictures and let alone you're about to send them to someone. Each of them is equally provocating and humiliating. Before you start to think too much you bite your lip hard and send, watching as he views your message.

[you]: There you go, asshole.

[nerdycatboy]: Only three?

[you]: Take it or leave it. I'm tired.

You reply, not caring to be polite. The frustration and humiliation get to you as you rip the stupid things off your body and toss them away before falling on your bed and lying face down in silence.

[nerdycatboy]: Getting feisty. It's okay, I'm feeling kind today so I'll let you go.

[nerdycatboy]: Until next time, little cherry. xoxo

You watch his messages, a numbing feeling of defeat settling over you as you turn off your phone and push it away.

Even though you desperately want to think of nothing a thought continues to nag you. A shameful, despicable thought that you just can't seem to ignore.

You might be really enjoying being humiliated by an unknown man on the internet. How truly absurd, no? You let out a scream of frustration into the pillow. A faceless, seemingly rich man who has a kink of humiliating you is keeping your mind awake and body restless at night.

How did it ever get to this?

[nerdycatboy]: I've been thinking about your task for tomorrow and finally made a decision.

[you]: Okay...

[nerdycatboy]: Wear a white shirt. Nothing more, nothing less.

[you]: Excuse me?

[nerdycatboy]: You heard me all right, little cherry.

You keep staring at the message as if looking at it long enough will make it disappear. It definitely doesn't. In fact, it gets worse.

[nerdycatboy]: And keep the top two buttons undone. Showing a little cleavage won't hurt. And wear red lipstick.

You keep staring at your screen, wondering in the back of your mind for the nth time just how your life came to be this.

God sure loves to test you.

[you]: I'm not a harlot you know.

[nerdycatboy]: Never said you were one. Besides what's wrong with being a one?

Him and his way with words. You roll your eyes, your fingers pressing the keys on the keyboard angrily.

[you]: If I wear white my tits will show.

[nerdycatboy]: That's exactly the point.

A seething rage envelopes your entire being as you clench both of your fists, inhaling a few deep breaths to stop yourself from smashing something. Ever since you came across this asshole you're realizing you've unlimited anger that you never thought you had in you.

[you]: Whatever, dick.

You reply and shut off your computer in an unsuccessful attempt to block him out.

However, the next day, you do end up doing your live in a plain thin white shirt which of course, makes the chatbox go up in flames.

Within a minute of starting your live, comments about your outfit start flooding in.

Fuck, you look so hot!

The red lips suit you so much!!

Yo, I can see her nipples.

You're getting bolder these days. Love to see it!!!

I'll pay anything for you to take the shirt off.

Swallowing, you ignore the crude comments and start with your usual greeting. "As you can see, everyone, my outfit is a bit risky today. Just thought I'd venture into something new." You force a laugh.

Did she lose a bet or something?

Yes, we need more risky outfits. How about being topless next time?

It's a downpour of all types of comments but you can't let them get to you. So you start reading the erotica instead, reading one or two decent comments every now and then for the next two hours. The view count is insane, the highest you've ever had and the number of tips are also sky high.

A tiny, tiny part of you is thankful to your crazy stalker, whom, you haven't seen in the comments section. You could have missed him, sure, but he was silent during the last live too so you can't rest easy knowing he is watching. You're ninety-nine percent sure he's gonna DM you as soon as the live is over.

Which turns out to be accurate.

Just as you are done taking off your mask and stretching your sore muscles after the live, his message pops up on the screen.

[nerdycatboy]: you looked absolutely devouring, little cherry.

You don't know why those words make you flush. Just a little bit, you tell yourself.

[you]: thanks, pervert.

[nerdycatboy]: this pervert would like some pictures today too.

Oh god. You rub your temples.

[you]: definitely not nudes.

[nerdycatboy]: no? :(

[nerdycatboy]: I don't want nudes, ____. Let us build up to it ;) Just snap some of you sitting on your bed with those pouty red lips. And undo another button of your shirt.

It's humiliating how his orders make you curl your toes and feel giddy all over. Like an obedient pet, you do as you're told, a bit too enthusiastically. You take your time and make sure to appear sexy and get the best angles. Once satisfied, you send them to the anonymous and wait eagerly.

[nerdycatboy]: you're a sight for sore eyes.

[you]: Prof Luther's assignment getting to you?

[nerdycatboy]: Mhmm. These will definitely help me power through.

[you]: glad I could be of help 🙄

[nerdycatboy]: you sure are. until your next live, little cherry. don't miss me too much.

You snort.

[you]: yeah, whatever, sicko.

[nerdycatboy]: Also, I'll be sending you a gift. You'll love it. I already do.

Oh god. Worry begins to bloom as your brain tries to think of the gift. What will he be sending you now? What is he gonna make you do on your next live? More importantly, are you seriously looking forward to it?

Yes, you are. This tiny, fucked up part inside you is excited and all too eager to please and obey a random stranger on the internet.

[you]: Please don't.

You type instead.

[nerdycatboy]: You should receive it within the next three days. We'll talk then.

[nerdycatboy]: Bye, little cherry. Sweet dreams.

And he's offline, leaving you hanging once again.

VI.

True to his words and from your worst nightmares, a package arrives three days later. Once again, you're too scared to open it, just standing there in silence while chewing on your lower lip. Your gut is telling you that it won't be something good which means it can only be something humiliating and freaky.

Taking a deep, calming breath, you start to open the outer packaging to find a baby pink cardboard box. There's a note taped on top of the lid.

I can't wait to see you use this on camera, little cherry.

It's only a line but it has you sweating buckets as you take off the lid with shaky hands.

Your world comes to an absolute halt. For long moments, you just stand rooted to your spot with your mouth agape, convinced that this can't be real.

It is, unfortunately.

The asshole sent you a vibrator.

A fucking vibrator.

It's a huge Hitachi wand and just looking at it gives you shivers.

There is absolutely no way...

You're immediately reaching for your phone to fire a text to the asshole.

[you]: Wtf? Is this a joke?

You type and snap a picture of the device to send it to him.

It seems that he has been expecting you to text as he immediately replies.

[nerdycatboy]: It absolutely is not. I am very much looking forward to seeing you use it.

[you]: Fuck you, dickhead. I won't. There's a limit to everything.

[nerdycatboy]: There's no limit to the games we play, little cherry. In fact, this doesn't even begin to cover it. I have more plans for you.

You can't think of a way this could get any worse.

Holding your breath, you wait for him to elaborate.

[nerdycatboy]: Little cherry, do you want to hear my voice?

What?

Your breath catches in your lungs as you stare wide eyed at the text for a long time.

[you]: Yes but not at the cost of this.

[nerdycatboy]: Hmm, as stubborn as ever. What if I told you I'd reveal myself if you use the vibrator on yourself in live?

It's the second time your breath stutters, a small gasp emitting from you as you cup your open mouth.

Immediately, the gears in your brain start turning. You'd finally get to know who he is and end this misery. Maybe you can come up with some sort of dirt on him and blackmail him in return. The possibilities are endless, truly.

However, more than anything else you're excited to finally see who it is and no matter how much you keep telling yourself no, a teeny tiny part of you is eager to pleasure yourself on camera.

God, what have you become, _____.

With a defeated sigh, you start typing.

[you]: You drive a hard bargain.

[you]: Alright. You have a deal but make sure to keep your promise.

[nerdycatboy]: I vow on my degree, little cherry. You will know who I am within the next forty-eight hours.

The thought sends an exciting chill down your spine.

[nerdycatboy]: Exciting, isn't it?

You roll your eyes.

[you]: Shut up and tell me what I need to do in the live.

[nerdycatboy]: Ah, yes. Nothing that tough really, wear that white shirt you wore last time and play with yourself. According to my instructions, of course.

[you]: Your instructions?

[nerdycatboy]: Yes.

I'll be on call with you throughout the live, giving you instructions.

Your curl your toes and bite your lip, a new wave of excitement rising within you as heat pools in your belly. This is unlike anything you've ever done before and way out of your comfort zone but surprisingly, you're all too ready to comply.

Your hands are shaky as you type.

[you]: Okay.

[nerdycatboy]: You are so obedient, my cherry. It really is great fun to play with you.

I'll call you tomorrow just before your live, then.

You swallow.

[you]: Alright.

He doesn't reply anymore and you think he has gone offline. Just as you are about to log out too, another text comes.

[nerdycatboy]: And remember ______, you follow every instruction of mine. That means you follow how I tell you to please yourself and you come when I tell you to. If you do a single thing without my permission, you're absolutely done for.

Your earlier feelings are replaced with an overwhelming feeling of trepidation and doom in the blink of an eye.

Quick realization dawns on you that you are a mere puppet being controlled by an evil puppeteer and your fate is hanging by a thread.

VII.

The next day, you receive an incoming voice call from nerdycatboy just two minutes before your live.

You are ready with your full setup; you just need to start the live when it's time. The AirPods are also set in your ears for him to guide you through.

At first, your entire body freezes up as your phone starts ringing and anxiety envelopes you as and you fall into a spiral. But when you remember how your entire life is on the line, you pick up the phone just as it's about to stop ringing.

Inhaling deeply, you speak.

"Hello?"

There's a beat of silence on the other side.

And another.

"Start the live, _____. It's time."

The voice is deep, gravelly, familiar yet unfamiliar but you don't get to think long about it because your finger presses the start button and just like that you're on live.

You see yourself on the screen, dressed in a white shirt amidst the neon pink lighting in your room. Today, you've put on a wig— a baby pink wig with two high ponytails and wore a basic black face mask instead of your usual stylish mask that covers the upper half or more of your face. It's obvious you're trying to cover as much of yourself as possible to counter the part that you're going to show.

Oh, sweet lord, you're doing this.

Your greeting and interaction are a lot stiffer compared to other days as there is a sadistic man in your ears. You've also restricted the comment box because you feel it's necessary for today, hence they move slowly as you go through them.

The man in your ears has been quiet but you know he's there, waiting with you, for the view count to reach the minimum. As soon as it does, he speaks.

"Why don't we get started, _____. Introduce your toy to everyone."

You swallow as your panicky gaze lands on the intimidating piece of device right out of the camera frame. You are full of nerves and anxiety and to de-stress yourself just a bit, you take a sip of the wine that you've hidden in your coffee cup.

Then, with a deep breath, you start.

"So guys... I've already said that I'm not gonna be reading today. Instead, I'm trying something new and different. Very, very different." You force a smile at the camera as you pick up the device and grip it tightly in your hand.

"I'm in the mood for...playing tonight and guess what I'm playing with?" You inhale deeply before lifting the device to show it to the camera, moving it around in a teasing manner.

As expected, the people in the comments go insane.

"That's right. I'll be using this pretty toy on me." You give a seductive smile, despite wearing the mask, hoping your eyes coney the expression.

"Good job, little cherry. Let's not waste time now. Turn it on." The man commands quietly and once again you're body acts like it's on autopilot, obeying him immediately.

There's something about his voice, so dangerous, so attractive. Something so powerful you don't dare disobey.

It's insane, really.

As ordered, you plug in the device and turn it on, watching warily as it starts vibrating, your throat going dry.

"Go ahead. Open your legs and put it on your pussy. Don't hold it anywhere too long, though. Tease yourself."

Oh fuck.

The sensible, conscious part of you starts freezing up with fear while the other part lets you only think about how hot all of this is and how eager you are to comply.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you lean back on your seat and part your legs. Trembling hands reach between them to pull your pink lacy panties to one side, revealing yourself to the camera.

There, you've done it.

Something inside you goes numb as you feel the chilly air on your bare core and from then on, you start feeling like a complete puppet, only here to dance as her puppeteer pleases.

Now there's no going back.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the comments fly by as the view count increases significantly.

Your puppeteer has been silent and you're somewhat grateful for his patience as you slowly adjust to your actions.

With another huge breath, you bring the thrumming device to your pussy and gingerly touch yourself while interacting with the camera, careful to follow the given instructions.

You're so wound up you don't feel any pleasure at the first touch on your pussy.

"You're so tense, _____. Don't make it look like someone is holding you at gunpoint. Relax your body, little cherry."

It proves to be harder said than done.

Still, you try to get yourself to relax and interact with the camera as you once again bring the device to your lips, playing with yourself.

"Good girl, _____. You look absolutely ravishing right now. Just keep following my voice and I promise you'll have the best orgasm you've ever had."

His tone is gentle yet ordering and oh so deep that you close your eyes and just let his words wash over you. The vibrator touches your clit right then making you jolt in your seat, a sigh of pleasure falling from your lips.

"Fuck, you're soaking, little cherry. You can try to act unwilling but deep down you are loving this. This is what you want, what you need, _____." His voice is gravelly as he breathes in your ears and you chew on your lower lip, knowing there is some truth to his words.

"Hold your pussy lips open, cherry. Run the toy up and down your folds."

You do as you are told, holding yourself open to the camera as the vibration goes through your soaking folds, making you whine in need.

"Turn the vibrations up. Just one bit."

The toy thrums stronger against your core and your legs start shaking just the tiniest bit. They have fallen wide open, resting against the armrest of your chair as you play with yourself.

"So obedient, little cherry. And so filthy. You're a real sight." He whispers. Your brain is starting to feel hazy as all your attention hones down to get yourself to release but as you expected, it doesn't prove to be so easy.

"Turn it off. Now."

Despite the serious urge to disobey him, you turn off the vibrator, teeth gritting, your pussy twitching in protest.

"We're you close, little cherry? Too bad, we can't have you cumming so easily. Turn it on again. Stroke yourself with it. Slowly."

And once again, you are eagerly following his words.

"Push it inside your pussy lips, little cherry. Just a bit. Not all the way, though."

Swallowing, you release a shaky breath and slip the vibrating head inside you, just a little bit— not even half of the head and the pleasure significantly increases as you let out a loud moan.

"Feels good doesn't it? Don't you dare slip it all the way in. There's no way I am letting a toy get inside you before myself."

His words make a shiver roll down your spine as you think of his cock and him whispering filthy words in your ear as he takes you. The little, sane part of your brain shakes her head at your deprived thoughts about a faceless man who has been blackmailing you.

"Turn it off."

Just like before, the man seems to know when your orgasm starts to rise. He tells you to shut off the device and much to your reluctance you do so, not knowing how long you can continue this without losing your mind.

"Turn it on to the highest setting this time. Hold it right on your clit. Don't you dare cum, cherry. I wanna see you writhe."

Oh fuck.

It's a really tough challenge, one you're sure you're gonna fail, yet you're helpless. You do as you're told, holding the throbbing device on your most sensitive part as you start to feel like you're gonna lose your mind. Your head falls back as your eyes roll to the back of your head, heavy pants falling from your lips as your legs shake.

"P-please, let me...come."

"You look so fucking hot right now cherry. I want to see you like this, begging for my cock. Tell me, do you want it?"

"Y-yes. Please..." You are so close you can taste the release.

"Turn it off, cherry. Right now."

With a cry of protest, you turn off the vibrator and let it fall from your hands as you slump back in your chair and catch your breath.

This is the sweetest torture.

The comments go wild, some wanting to see you come and some telling you to keep edging yourself. As you watch the number of tips only increase, your toes curl at the indecency of all of this.

"Let's continue, baby. Turn it on, play with yourself."

Hands shaky, you reach for the device again.

This game of cat and mouse continues until you're a crying and begging mess. He finally grants you your release and then rewards you with a short break before continuing. In the next couple of hours, you come three more times and your bones turn to jelly by the end of it. The live reaches its end when he finally hangs up the call and you're all too quick to wrap things up.

When your computer screen goes black and you can see your disheveled state in the reflection, your mind blanks out as you sit in complete silence, the happenings of the evening slowly replaying in your mind.

The money you've earned tonight is more than you could ever imagine and yet there is no happiness or relief bubbling in you. Rather, you feel empty and absolutely numb, the past hours feeling like a fever dream but the ache between your legs tell you they are very painfully real.

The screen of your phone lights up with two notifications, interrupting your trance.

nerdycatboy has sent you 1000$

[nerdycatboy]: a little gift for your hard work

You stare at the screen in silence until it goes black and then some more. It takes a while for you to realize tears are rolling down your cheeks. And then you are full-on sobbing as you hide your face in your hands and weep at the overwhelmingly miserable situation of yours.

When you finally get some sleep it is late into the night and tears are staining your cheeks and your pillowcase.

VIII.

Despite the rough night, you attend your classes the next day, somewhat glad that they are in the evening. You doze through all of it though, tired and way too distracted to pay attention to the lecture.

The tips of your fingers drum continuously against your desk as you wait for the class to be over. Your mind is spiraling; going haywire thinking about the fact that you will be meeting nerdycatboy today.

That is if he keeps his promise.

He hasn't contacted you since last night and given his stalker-ish tendencies, you're sure he knows your schedule. So why hasn't he messaged you yet?

Probably because he played you, silly girl.

You let out a loud sigh, frustrated, exhausted and enraged. How much longer will this match of cat and mouse go on? You have seriously started to consider shutting off your page temporarily because playing this stupid game with the anonymous asshole is proving to be way too much for you to bear.

The lecture finishes at some point while you're stuck inside your head and as you start packing your bags, you receive a text.

It's him.

I'll meet you at the library building in half an hour.

Your head immediately snaps up as your eyes scan the crowd leaving the classroom, a failed attempt to pinpoint him.

Okay, I'll be waiting.

You grab a coffee while waiting for him, your foot tapping the ground incessantly as you come to terms with the fact that you will be seeing him soon. Your misery will finally be over.

Hopefully.

What do you do when you see him? Curse at his face? Hit him? Or say it was nice playing stupid games with you now please leave me alone?

You've no idea. Your nerves leave you feeling jittery and tense as you see the clock hit seven in the evening. Half an hour is almost up so you start walking towards the library building, goosebumps arising on your skin as shivers roll down your spine.

You don't know if it's the chilly evening air or your nerves.

The library closes at six thirty so there is no one around the building now. The sun has long set and the sky is dark now, save for the little bits of orange and pink here and there.

It could be your brain projecting things but the atmosphere feels eerie and you wonder why he chose such an empty place. What does he plan to do with you? He wouldn't have chosen a quiet place unless he had some bad intentions, right?

Stop overthinking, _____. Your brain hisses.

The watch on your hand reads 7:10 now and there's no sign of anybody. Anxious, you shoot him a text, asking where he is and as expected you don't get a reply.

Tired of looking around the area with wide and restless eyes you decide to step inside the building. The ground floor is still unlocked as there are a few storage units here and you make yourself comfortable in the dimly lit hallway, leaning by a small window and focusing on the garden outside to distract yourself.

Seconds pass by with your feet tapping on the tile floor in matching beats. You grow more impatient, repeatedly checking the time and your message to see if it has been read.

Until you hear footsteps.

They echo down the hall as someone enters the building.

You hold your breath and watch the silhouette, your eyes taking a few seconds to adjust to the lighting.

And your entire world crashes and burns.

It's Jeon Wonwoo, walking towards you.

IX.

The first thing you tell yourself is that this is a coincidence, that he's here to get something from the supply closet. But the idea seems less and less plausible as he keeps walking towards you, his strides determined and only stops a few feet away from you.

You gulp, your entire body frozen as you gape at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to say something.

Judging from the upturned corners of his lips, your reaction seems to amuse him plenty. He stands there, his hands in his pockets as he watches you with a twinkle in his eyes and says the words you were still praying he wouldn't.

"Hello, little cherry."

Despite expecting those words, the shock that overcomes your system is enough to make you lose your footing as you stumble on your feet, hands reaching for the wall behind you to support yourself.

Your breath comes out in the form of short pants as small beads of sweat gather on your forehead.

You knew, you knew, you knew.

You knew it!

The second you heard his voice yesterday, your subconscious told you it was Wonwoo. You, however, chose to be ignorant, dismissing the idea just as quickly as it appeared.

There was no way it could be Wonwoo. Except it is.

You should be glad it is him, no? After all the man you had imagined in the place of the faceless man was always Wonwoo. He had been the man of your fantasies for the longest time yet the feeling of betrayal and hurt is overwhelming.

Funny, considering that he didn't actually betray you. If anything, you have been betraying yourself.

Wonwoo stands in front of you, still as a statue, hands in his pockets, his stance calmer than a winter evening. His face is blank but there is a glint in his eyes, something between sadistic amusement and cocky satisfaction as he watches you crumble in front of him.

Where is the plain old nerdy Wonwoo?

"Wo-Wonwoo..." You don't know what you are trying to say as you lose your train of thought, dropping abruptly onto the ground. Accidentally, you scrape your index finger by the windowsill but your brain registers no pain due to the overwhelming shock as you simply sit in silence and stare as little drops of blood ooze out of the cut.

God, this is straight out of your worst nightmares.

Or, your darkest, filthiest fantasies?

Wonwoo, however, seems to spot the drops of red beading on your fingertips which you ignore. He takes slow but determined steps toward you, his footsteps echoing eerily through the empty hallway. When he is right in front of you, he stops before kneeling on one knee as one of his hands reaches for your injured finger.

He watches the little drops of blood ooze through the cut with rapt attention, his dark eyes somehow appearing darker in the dim lights. Then, surprising you, he takes your hand and brings the bleeding finger to his lips, his eyes intently focused on yours as he sucks the little cut. Your breath hitches, half of yourself wanting to yank your hand away from disgust and rage while the majority of you remain paralyzed as the hauntingly mesmerizing scene plays in front of you.

"Be careful now, can't have you getting hurt now, can we, little cherry?" He takes the finger out of his mouth and observes while the corners of his lips lift into an eerie smile that finally manages to bring some heat into your blood as you seize your hand out of his grip.

"Fuck you, asshole! You're fucking sick!" You hiss out the words you never thought you would say to Wonwoo.

Your attack brings an even bigger smile to his lips as he reaches out and gently tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ear. "Oh little cherry, tell me something I don't know."

You swallow and try to scoot away from him despite the limited space. "Did you have fun bullying me, you sicko?"

"Come on now, _____. Let's not twist the truth. I was not bullying you. We were just playing a game. Besides, I should be the one to ask that." He coos at you, his voice so innocent it makes your brain trip. Tilting his head to a side he keeps stroking your cheek with his fingertips and whispers, "Did you have fun being ordered around by me? By being humiliated? Hm, pretty girl?"

Your eyes widen and you swallow nervously, clenching your hands in tight fists to stop yourself from hitting him.

He chuckles. "It's alright. You don't have to answer that." He stands up, puts his hands in his pockets and stares down at you, tilting his head once more as if you're one fascinating creature. "Because we both know you loved it."

"I didn't!" Your protest is immediate as you muster every bit of strength to stand up and get into his face. "I didn't, you asshole. Don't kid yourself!"

Another pleased smile graces his lips. "Really? You didn't like it every time I called you a good girl? You didn't get more wet every time I told you I'd reward you with my cock?" He inches his face closer to yours, leaving just an inch of a gap.

"Do not kid yourself, _____." His voice drops a pitch as you feel the shift in him, goosebumps breaking on your skin. "You call me names but deep down you know you are a filthy slut and you loved being treated that way."

No. No, you didn't.

Or did you?

"Shut up!" You yell, pushing him with all your might as he stumbles a few steps back. There's a little pause in the air before his eyes meet yours as he pushes his glasses over the bridge of his nose.

"You want me to shut up because you know that it's the truth, _____-"

"Stop psychoanalyzing me!" You hiss, a fresh coat of tears blurring your vision. "Look at yourself, you twisted fucking jerk!"

You push past him as you try to stomp away but his hand catches your arm at the last second, tugging your body close to him. He leans down, his breath hovering on your ear as he whispers. "You better watch your mouth, cherry or I'll show you just how twisted I am. And you might not live to even see through it."

A bucket of ice-cold water seems to wash over you as you realize the gravity of the situation. For the first time since meeting Wonwoo, you're actually scared for your life, especially when you gaze into his pitch black pupils and the little flash of teeth peeking between his lips. Even though his grip on your arm is ironclad, you yank your arm away with all your strength and start running away from him, your heart thudding loudly in your ribcage.

You dash straight out of the library and you only stop until you're in front of a convenience store far enough. Falling on your knees, you catch your breath as you pant heavily, eyes scanning around to make sure he didn't follow you.

A new sense of fear and doom settles over you as you start to realize you might have walked into a situation that may not allow you to get out.

Alive, at least.

What's worse is that a part of you is actually excited.

XI.

Sorry guys, I cannot be doing today's and next week's livestream due to some personal problems. Please understand. Thank you!

You post the notice on your camming page and lean back in your chair, exhaling a loud sigh. The past night has been tiring with the constant struggle of being alert and a dreadful paranoia that won't leave you alone. Jeon the twisted Wonwoo keeps reappearing in your thoughts, haunting you whatever you do.

Within minutes after your post, you get a notification of an inbox and you don't have to see it to know it's the one and only, Jeon psycho Wonwoo.

[nerdycatboy]: Must have really scared you, eh?

You stare at it for a while, thinking of something snarky to reply but nothing comes up so you just decided to ignore it.

He doesn't give up.

[nerdycatboy]: Don't be scared, cherry. We've had so much fun until now. You know it deep down.

Why ignore the obvious?

You sigh, rubbing your temples.

You really need a break from all this. From him.

[you]: Can you leave me alone for one day? Please?

He doesn't text back for a while.

[nerdycatboy]: Since I'm feeling kind, sure. I won't bother you for the next twenty-four hours. We'll talk after you've regained some of your composure and hopefully your senses.

[nerdycatboy]: Because deep down you know what you really want and you know that I'm the only one that can provide it.

[nerdycatboy]: Sweet dreams, little cherry.

His message radiates a type of threat the longer you stare at it and your mind starts to go haywire. So you shut your laptop off and lie in your bed in silence, his words repeating over and over in your head like a mantra.

Deep down you know what you really want and you know that I'm the only one that can provide it.

Yes, yes you do know that. And you feel absolutely horrible for it. Who in their sane mind would allow an unhinged, deadly man to humiliate and low-key blackmail them online for some twisted form of entertainment?

You, for sure.

Your issues run deep, girl.

You mentally shake your head at the situation. If you're attracted to a man like that there has to be something wrong with you, no? But what is worse is deep down, you don't want to stop. You want to push and push and take it to the very end, extremely curious to see what is in store for you with Wonwoo.

Nothing dull, for sure.

And as if you needed more proof; you end up seeing the man even in your dreams, where he does unspeakably filthy things to you and you only beg for more.

XII.

Sunday afternoon, when you're done soaking in the tub for a good hour while enjoying a much needed glass of wine, you sit on your robe and do your skincare when your doorbell rings.

You're confused because you aren't expecting anyone. However, when you peer into the peephole your confusion flips into terror and panic as you see Wonwoo standing.

You must be seeing things, right?

No, you realize, once you double check.

What do you do now? Pretend you're not at home? Tell him to fuck off? Call the police?

You're being too dramatic, your subconscious rolls her eyes.

But your emotions are valid because you have been ignoring texts from the man. True to his words he gave you just twenty four hours before starting to send you messages again that you were too overwhelmed and cowardly to open. Now you're realizing what a horrible decision that was.

Shaking off the thoughts you straighten up and square your shoulders, taking a deep breath as you open the door.

Wonwoo stands there, looking unfairly good, dressed in a plain loose white tee and dark blue jeans, his black hair falling messily on his forehead, a few strands lying on top of his steel-framed glasses.

You briefly wonder if you have a glasses kink, if there is even such a thing.

He stands there looking so boyfriend material, it devastates you, making you wonder if this is an alternate universe where you're a 'normal' couple.

Because he definitely doesn't look like a sadistic, anti-social, slightly psycho nutjob right now. And it messes up your brain chemistry badly.

"Hi," your voice is akin to a mouse squeaking as you feel hot all over.

"Hello, _____." His voice is so sinfully deep.

Why is acting so normal? Like he's a classmate here to do an assignment with you?

"I... wasn't expecting you..." You stumble over your words.

"You weren't replying to my messages so I thought I'd pay you a visit. Make sure you're okay, you know? Our last meeting really shook you up."

You really can't tell if he's teasing you or being genuine but the delusional part of you takes it as a genuine effort.

"May I come in?"

"Of course!" You blink, moving to make way for him. He walks past you, leaving a trail of his cologne wafting in the air that creates a sudden urge within you to grab onto him and sniff him like a dog.

Yeah, you have serious issues.

You follow him awkwardly as he looks around your small space.

"Would you like something to drink? Tea, coffee...water?" Somehow offering him wine right now doesn't feel appropriate.

"Tea, please. Black."

Why is he being so...nice? So normal? Is this the climax of his games? Murdering you in your own home after sweet talking you? After making you drop your guards? You shake your head at the possibility and watch the kettle as it heats the water, waiting for him to initiate a conversation which he doesn't.

This is suffocating.

When you offer him the steaming mug he murmurs a thanks and then asks, "Where's your setup? I'd like to see it."

Uh oh.

"Uhm," you fiddle with your fingers, suddenly nervous. "It's in my bedroom."

"Mind giving me a tour?" His face doesn't give away any malicious intent but then again, he has always been great at keeping a blank face. If anything, he genuinely sounds curious.

Sighing, you guide him to your bedroom. The room is decent size with your bed on one side and your setup on the other. It's nothing fancy, just your pc and your huge, comfortable chair.

"When I film I put up a screen behind me and turn on some lights, you know," you mumble trying to fill the void. He looks around carefully before casually taking a seat on your bed and sipping on his tea.

"It's pretty. Like you, little cherry." His eyes connect with yours and your skin breaks out in goosebumps.

He's so... attractive. Everything about him. His looks, his voice, his attitude, his low-key psychotic persona.

"Take a seat, I won't bite." He says, his signature smirk finally appearing as you shudder before tentatively sitting next to him on your bed, still keeping a few inches of space.

"How did you find my address?" You ask softly.

He shrugs, drinking his tea, "Did some snooping around."

Not surprising. Not unlikely of him either.

"Have you thought about what I said, little cherry? About what you really want?" He asks, his voice a deep timbre as he sets down the mug on your bedside table.

Oh boy, we're not beating around the bush.

"Are you seriously here to talk about that?"

"Answer my question." The way he says those words make you weak in the knees.

"Yes," you swallow, not breaking eye contact with him. A pleased smile graces his soft pink lips and you're hit with the sudden temptation of kissing them.

"And what is your conclusion?" He asks, leaning closer to you, his scent making your brain hazy. One of his fingers traces over your cheekbone and then past your jaw to your neck.

It's electrifying.

''W-what if I want nothing to do with you?" You whisper. He laughs quietly before whispering in your ear, "That is not an option because we both know that's the last thing you want, little girl."

Little girl. Your insides swoon.

His face is now inches apart from yours, his fingers caressing your cheek oh so softly as he watches you with those dark, seductive eyes of his.

It doesn't take a second for you to make your decision.

"Will...will you kiss me, Wonwoo?" You croak.

He arches a surprised brow before smiling in great pleasure as he leans back to watch you. "You are always a surprise, _____. Only if you say please."

"Please."

"Good girl," he praises and that's almost enough to make you come. He wastes no time, cupping both of your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours. Fireworks go off in your head. Your hands move to clutch his shoulders and a soft needy moan escapes your lips when you feel how solid they are.

Holy mother of gods, you need to get dicked down by him.

Immediately.

Wonwoo's tongue explores every bit of your mouth as his hands grab your jaw and neck tighter, his body shuffling close to deepen the kiss. You become a puppet and let him play with you as you melt in his arms, letting him lead however he wants to.

When you two break apart you're panting heavily. Wonwoo watches you with glinting eyes, his pink lips slightly swollen like yours as his thumb traces over your lips. You subconsciously open them and he pushes his thumb in, making you suck on his digit.

You do so eagerly, not breaking eye contact with him. Heat pools in your belly as his nostrils flare and he grunts. "You're a wicked little minx you know that, little cherry?"

I can be whatever you need, you inwardly purr as you give him a particular hard suck before he takes it back.

"You want my cock? Is that what you're trying to say?" He questions, standing up and tilting your chin to meet his gaze.

You can only nod, breathless with anticipation.

"I need words, ______. You're not mute." His voice is commanding, and scolding, which makes you even wetter.

"Please fuck me, Wonwoo."

He grins. An evil, victorious grin.

"Good girl. Stand up." You do so and he tugs the belt on your robe, making it fall open in a fluid motion. Your hands move to cover yourself but he glares at you in warning, making you stop halfway.

"Don't be shy now." He whispers, letting the material fall off your shoulders, leaving you completely naked. "I've seen this pussy on camera already, no?"

You swallow as his fingers trace between your legs and then easily slips one finger in due to your wetness. You sigh in pleasure while he lets out a satisfied hum.

"Tell me," he cups your pussy, thumb stroking your clit as you shudder. "How many men have touched this before me?"

You shake your head. "N-no one."

He tilts his head, a wry smile on his face. "Are you telling me I'm your first, baby?"

You nod, slightly shaking.

"Fuck, you just made me ten times harder. I'm gonna have much more fun defiling you now."

You gulp, stuck in a trance as you let him guide you back to bed with a hard push. You land on your back and watch Wonwoo take his tee off and boy, is that a sight. Your thighs automatically press together when his sculpted body comes into view and the sight of his broad shoulders makes you clutch the bedsheets in a tight fist.

However, something catches your eye; a patch of scarred skin right on his left abdomen, spreading from the front to his back and if you had to guess you'd say it is a burn mark. You don't get to think about it long because he's distracting you with a kiss.

"Like what you see?" He's cocky.

You nod, eyes settling on the bulge in his jeans, waiting for him to take it off so that you can see the object of your desires.

Alas, he has other plans for you.

"Open your legs, little cherry."

They fall apart on command as Wonwoo gets comfort between them, one of his hands trailing over your breasts and your belly while the other softly strokes your sopping wet core. It's embarrassing how easily he can slip two fingers deep inside you. "So fucking wet, you dirty whore." He muses with a smirk.

God, you love his voice.

Your moans rise in pitch as his fingers develop a rhythm, thrusting in and out of you in precise, perfect movements. Your release is so close you can taste it.

Automatically, your hips rise off the bed as your body tilts itself upward for a little stimulation on your clit. Wonwoo takes notice of it and laughs, "Aw, little whore is gonna come so soon? You want me to do this?"

The brush of the pad of his finger is enough to set you off as you scream and let your release wash over you. Your toes curl as you fist the sheets hard enough to almost rip them, riding out your high while he continues to plunge his digits in and out of you.

Once you finally get to catch your breath, he pulls them out and pops the fingers in his mouth, making a show of licking them.

You shudder, your body preparing for another round as moisture gathers between your legs once again.

"Fucking delicious." He grins, making you heat up all over. There is nowhere to hide, your whole body on display for him and he doesn't mask his appreciation as he drinks up every naked inch of you with a devouring gaze.

"Please, f-fuck me," you're not shy about begging as the need for his cock worsens.

"Oh I will," he promises, taking off his glasses and setting them down on your bedside table. Without much thinking your fingers trail over his chiseled abdomen and then down, over the tent of his pants as you fiddle with the button, trying to open it. Wonwoo amuses you for a while before batting your hand away, glaring at you. "Did I give you permission to touch me?"

You bite your lip and shake your head no.

"That's right." His voice is calm as he watches you for a few beats, hungry eyes trained on your lips before his right hand suddenly comes to wrap around your throat.

Your breath stutters as you watch him, wide eyed.

"Touch me again without permission and you won't be coming anytime soon." He threatens, tightening the grip on your throat as your airflow gradually decreases, making you feel fuzzy. You should be scared for your life, but you aren't, instead, the action only makes you wetter as you rub your thighs and mewl and beg with your eyes to ease the ache.

He listens.

Letting you go, he gets off the bed and takes off his pants and boxers, while your brain and lungs catch up due to the lack of oxygen. You blink and gulp when you see how blessed he is in length and girth, your breathing irregular.

Smirking at your reaction, he gets back on the bed and traps you beneath him, amusement and satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "I don't think you'll need any more prepping," he muses, trailing his fingers to your pussy and dipping one in the collect your arousal. You vehemently shake your head yes.

He laughs. "Hungry for cock, slut?"

"Y-yes." You whisper, breathless, wide eyed, needy.

Wonwoo leans down to nip on your jaw and your neck as he aligns himself with your entrance. Then, a thought comes to you.

"We... don't have a condom..."

"I'm clean, little cherry. Besides, there's no way I'd not take this virgin cunt bare." His words are vile and his smile is diabolical, sending shivers down your spine. It's alarming how attractive you find his insanity.

"Hold on to me. Bite my shoulder if it hurts too much." That's all the warning you get and not enough time to process as he shoves his cock inside you in one go. A loud wail erupts from your throat as tears burn your eyes, your nails digging into Wonwoo's biceps as you cling to him for dear life.

"So fucking tight." His voice is hoarse as he remains still for a few seconds, letting you catch your breath. The pain of the stretch doesn't ease up but the man on top of you isn't too bothered. He starts thrusting, slow, small thrusts at first as you rest your head in the crook of his neck and hold him tight, breathing harshly.

Soon, his pace increases, hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes you see stars and your toes curl. Feeling you tighten around him, he chuckles, "You like that? You like it when I hit here?" He punctuates by thrusting you right there once again and you scream.

"Yes! Harder!"

He scoffs. "Such a slut. How did you survive so long without a dick shoved up inside you, huh?" He leans back, prying your body off of him and grabs both your cheeks in one hand, puckering your lips. "Want it harder? Say please."

"P-please," you manage to utter despite his strong grip on your jaw. Your cheeks ache from how hard he grabs you but you're once again surprised by how much the pain turns you on.

"Open your mouth," he commands, intense eyes trained on you, his pace never faltering. You are not going to last very long, you realize.

You follow his command and open your mouth as he eases his grip and stunning you, he spits right into your mouth.

"Swallow it, little whore." He orders, making your pussy clench deliciously. You once again do as you're told.

"You loved that, didn't you?" He scoffs. "You are a real treat, little cherry. You're fucking perfect." His hands wrap around your throat, almost as leverage as his pace becomes wild, driving in and out of you so fast, the bed starts shaking.

"I'm..gonna come." You whisper. The pressure building inside you is about to burst and you can't hold it any longer. Not resuming his pace or bothering to acknowledge your words, Wonwoo keeps on going while slithering a hand down to your core, where he flicks your clit before roughly pinching it.

You go off like a rocket.

The pleasure is mind-numbing, making you arch off the bed with a wail. It's like a tsunami of pleasure has crashed onto you and it only amplifies when you feel him swell inside you before releasing himself. Your pussy is coated with warm bursts of his cum as your body continues to shake, still riding the wave of your high.

You feel him pull out, his cum trickling out of your spent hole as you still float back down to earth and before you can let out a sigh of relief that it is over, he's spreading your legs as wide as they can go, getting you in a spread eagle position.

"Keep your legs like that, slut." He commands, leaning down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. It's all teeth and tongue and fierce that once again lights up the fire in your core.

What has this man done to you?

You're insatiable, riding a never ending lust filled high as you watch the insanely hot man on top of you. His hair is messier now and there's a light sheen of sweat on his body that only adds to the appeal.

You don't know if you want to devour him or be devoured by him.

"I'm not done with you yet." He murmurs, watching you with dark eyes as he strokes his cock. "Look at your blood on my cock, little cherry. Isn't that a sight?" He grins, flashing his teeth.

Goosebumps rake down your spine.

"I always loved blood but having you bleed on my cock? This is just incomparable, sweetheart." He pushes a couple of his fingers coated in your blood and his cum and shoves them into your mouth. You're all too eager to lick them clean without a second of delay.

Your tongue dances on his digits, licking them clean and tasting the metallic, bitter flavor before he pops them off your lips. Then, once again leaving you flabbergasted, he slaps you on the right cheek. It doesn't hurt bad but it stings and you're ashamed of how much you liked it.

The evil smile is back on his face. "You like that?" He smacks your other cheek and you nod eagerly. At this point you realize, there's nothing this man can do to you that you wouldn't like.

"You're an absolute fucking piece, little cherry. I'm so glad I snatched you up. Couldn't let any other man have you, could I?"

He kisses your jaw before moving towards your neck, sniffing as he goes. "You smell so addictive. So... mine." He muses as he sucks on the tender spot on your neck, making you sigh in pleasure.

"Please, Wonwoo..." You are desperate and your legs hurt from staying wide open. The plea reaches his ears as he sits back and puts his fingers in his mouth, wetting them before shoving them inside your sore yet throbbing pussy. He plunges them in and out for a while, pushing his cum back inside you and watching with a smirk how your mouth falls open in pleasure.

And then he thrusts himself in. You know this time it is gonna be quick with his extra fast movements as he holds your calves for leverage and pounds in and out of you restlessly. You're on the brink of losing your sanity with how good he feels, unceremonious moans and gasps continuously leaving your mouth.

Suddenly a smack graces you on the cheek, making your body jerk and pussy tighten. It takes a while to realize Wonwoo has slapped you again and once you do so, you eagerly wait for another. Unlike last time, your cheek heats up from the force and you can actually feel the flesh burn but gosh, do you not love it any less.

"Dirty fucking slut. Letting me treat you however I want. You love it, no? You love the pain?" He hisses, brows furrowed as his pace starts to falter. You nod eagerly moving your hips against his, desperately chasing your end.

Two punctuated thrusts on your g-spot and you come without any warning. Once again, you feel like you're launched into outer space as your entire body jerks, leaving you gasping for air. Wonwoo releases himself all over your stomach and tits this time, soft groans of pleasure falling from his lips.

It's addictive.

Everything about this man is addictive.

He is the sweetest form of darkness, here to drag you down to hell with him. And you have no complaints.

That is your last coherent thought before you fall into a peaceful slumber.

XIII.

The next day, Wonwoo sits next to you in class, acting like his usual self, like he didn't blow your back out last night. He stays mostly quiet and keeps to himself, focusing on the lecture and taking notes. However, underneath the desk, his hand holds your thigh in a possessive grip, his fingers dancing over your sensitive flesh.

It is safe to say you don't get to focus much on the lesson.

After the class, you and Wonwoo grab a cool drink and sit on one of the benches laid throughout the campus field.

You are still processing the events of last night and seeing how he hasn't mentioned it even once, you wonder if it was all your imagination.

No, it was all too real to be untrue.

As you sit next to him and chew on your straw, you wonder how you should approach the subject. Wonwoo, who has been silently enjoying his drink suddenly speaks, just as you get your thoughts together. It, however, is the last thing you expected him to say.

"Did I ever tell you about how I murdered a man?"

Your body turns into a block of ice as you whip your head towards Wonwoo, who sits with his elbows resting on his knees, an impassive look on his face. Silently, you blink a few times, waiting, just to make sure you didn't hear him wrong.

He is kidding.

Right?

He tilts his head to face you, a wry chuckle escaping his lips as he shakes his head at your expression. "Come on now, little cherry, don't look so shocked."

You cough and look away, a lame attempt to mask your expression. "I don't want to know anything I should not know." You murmur, looking down at the ground. "Besides, you're joking, right?"

"No, I'm not." He laughs a little, before exhaling loudly. "I also doubt you'd tattle on me. Who would fuck you so good like last night if I went to jail?"

His words make you squirm in your seat.

"Besides, it's a really interesting story. One I've never told anyone before."

Should you feel honored?

Wonwoo seems to take your silence as a yes because he starts narrating. "Once upon a time, there was a man. An alcoholic, pathetic excuse of a man who did terrible things to a woman, my mother. I was very young when it started. He'd beat the shit out of her for every little reason. It would only get worse when he got drunk, which was more often than not. Sometimes he'd lock her up in the basement and keep her naked and unfed. One time, when I was about ten years old, he broke every finger on her right hand just because the dinner wasn't served on time."

You have stopped breathing by now, as you sit in absolute silence, your limbs immobile as if you are paralyzed. You have a very good idea of where this story is going and how it might end. That should make you want to get up and leave but you just can't bring yourself to, as you sit mute and take occasional tentative peeks at the man next to you.

"That was the first time I stood up to him. My mother had passed out from the pain and I yelled at him and pushed him which made him take it out on me too. He hadn't hit me ever before. But that night, he kept on going till the dawn, as if making up for all the times he didn't."

He falls silent for a few moments and you take a chance to peek at him. As always, it's impossible to read him, his face an emotionless canvas and his eyes emptier than a desert, lost somewhere in his dark memories. You can't help but wonder if he feels any pain or remorse as he recalls his traumatic past. If he does, how can he mask it so well?

"Six months after that, my mother fell off the roof of our building. The police concluded it as suicide because they found out she was drunk. But she wasn't."

"The night before, as always, the pathetic loser came home drunk and smashed things around for a while. There was a ruby necklace that my grandmother gave to my mother when she got married. That night, he was asking for it because he needed immediate cash and my mother wouldn't give it. She probably had enough because that was the only night she stood up against him and she protested hard. I remember her smashing a bottle on his head. Of course, he wouldn't let that slide but something was different about him that night. He was more despairing, more evil. He slapped her around a few times before choking her until she passed out. I can still hear his words in my head.

I'll get rid of you tonight bitch.

I'll get rid of you for good."

He then took out a bunch of booze and ordered her to drink them, saying that if she resisted, I'd get the beatings. She obeyed him and I only watched, as I always did and he kept forcing her to drink till she couldn't utter a coherent word or couldn't even remain seated. Once she passed out from all the booze he came to me and patted my head. With the evilest of smiles, he said,

"Go to your room. You don't need to learn everything so early."

"Then he locked me in his bedroom and didn't let me go until the morning. By then the police had come and removed her body. Those imbeciles decided it was suicide and ended the investigation just like that.

I could have told them that it was a murder but I didn't. My mother's death stunned me so much that I couldn't speak for the next few months and the asshole used it to his advantage. He acted like the best father and husband in front of the police but then came and took out all his anger and frustration on me."

He finally pauses to take a look at you and your face must have been an open book because he chuckles, "Why do you look so pale already? I haven't even gotten to the best part yet."

You want to tell him that you look pale not because of the story but because you feel sad for the fucked up man sitting next to you and his fucked up childhood. Even though he has yet to reveal how his father died you have already convinced yourself that he deserved it.

"A year went by like that." Wonwoo continues. "My mother was gone and I was the new punching bag for the asshole. He'd beat me up almost every day but he wasn't that dumb. He would never hit me in the face because I went to school and people could ask questions. I endured it all, in fact, I might have even started to crave it. I started to think I deserved it and so I took it...until one afternoon. I had just gotten home from school. He was sitting in the living room, drinking and watching TV. He seemed to be in an okay mood so I showed him my report card and asked him to sign it so that I could submit it the next day. He was quiet for a while until he saw my marks in English.

He took a bottle of booze and poured it all over my report card, saying a loser like me is better off without one. Something snapped inside of me and I yelled at him. So he broke that bottle on my head and stuffed that wet report card into my mouth and started beating me up.

After he was done he told me to get him a glass of water and go out to buy more beer for him. There was a nearby store that knew us and let me purchase alcohol. At that moment I made a split-second decision. I went to the kitchen, grabbed some rat poison and mixed it in his water before giving it to him. When he passed out I went back into the kitchen and pulled out the gas pipe and turned the knob open, letting it leak all over. I then lit a match and watched as the entire house caught on fire in seconds. I got burned too, as you can tell from the scars you saw last night. I ran out and sat on the other side of the road, just watching the fire spread. The thought of him burning alive in there brought me so much pleasure that I forgot my own pain.

It was right after noon and we lived in a relatively deserted area so it took a while for people to find out and call the police. They never suspected me because why would a twelve year old set his house on fire? The neighbors also testified that the asshole was an alcoholic so the police concluded it as another accident."

He concludes with a loud exhale. Turning his head to face you, he smirks wryly, "And that's how I successfully got away with my first murder."

You are left with a loss of words so you just give him a shaky nod and stare down at your legs, trying to process everything.

A few beats of silence seem to pass before Wonwoo reaches for your chin and uses it to tilt your face up. He smirks, "Scared of me now, aren't you?"

You sigh, gently removing your chin from his grip. "No, Wonwoo, I'm not. You did what you had to survive. It's admirable how you held on for so long."

For the first time, you see an emotion vividly on his face; shock. His eyes widen and his lips part to a little 'o' as he gapes at you, stunned. His reaction evokes some sort of longing within yourself as you reach for his hand and hold it between yours. "I am not scared of you because there is nothing to be. You were a little boy and you had gone through so much. It's fucked up but you did it to survive and you've come so far-"

"I don't want your pity and I don't want you to psychoanalyze me." He hisses, cutting you off as he yanks his hand away from your grip. You can see the fierce anger in his gaze so you shake your head.

"I am not pitying you and neither am I psychoanalyzing you. Trust me, I am in no position to do that. Especially because I believe that that man was an absolute piece of garbage and he deserved what you have done to him, if not worse. I would have done the same, Wonwoo, long ago. You held on for so long. That makes you a survivor, not a bad guy."

Your words seem to sink into him as he remains quiet, watching you with careful yet wondrous eyes. You sigh, realizing that he probably isn't believing you so you decide to give him, and yourself, some space.

Just as you stand up, he yanks you down by your hand, making you fall awkwardly onto his lap. Then, before your brain can catch up, he kisses you, rough and fast.

His lips smash with yours as he holds a strong grip on your neck, angling your face to his advantage. His tongue explores every inch of your mouth, colliding with yours as your body goes lax and you give into him. It's like an aphrodisiac— his kiss, his touch, that makes you lose your guard as you fall deeper and deeper into an abyss.

When he pulls back, you are both panting heavily for air. "Do you realize what you just said?" He grunts, those fox-like eyes staring at you making your toes curl and your insides swirl. In a daze, you hum, "Hmm?"

"You'd make a great accomplice for a murder, no?" He chuckles, his thumb tracing your swollen bottom lip while you keep staring at his lips. All coherent thoughts and senses have left your body long ago as you find yourself swimming in the sweetest poison that is Wonwoo.

"More." You breathe.

He smirks, that evil, confident smirk of his that makes your panties wet. Once again, he starts moving before you can process anything, dragging you behind him and straight to one of the storage rooms in a nearby building. You follow him blindly and as soon as the door is locked, he pins you against the wall and between himself, effectively trapping you. Yet, there is nowhere you want to escape to.

"You are an enigma, you know that, little cherry?" He whispers, trailing kisses down your jaw as his hands work on unbuttoning your top. He quickly takes it off along with your bra before taking a step back and yanking your skirt down. The zipper on the waist lets out a groan of protest that falls onto your deaf ears as you remain too busy ogling the ungodly hot man in front of you.

"Take me out."

Your body is on autopilot as you immediately undo his belt and pull down the zipper.

"Put your hands over my shoulders and hold tight. Wrap your legs around me." He commands as one of his hands holds you below your thigh while the other positions himself on your entrance.

And before you can blink, he's inside you. The initial stretch of the intrusion makes you jolt and let out a loud gasp of pain but it's quick to dull. One of his hands covers your mouth, his dark eyes indicating you to remain silent while he starts to move in and out of you.

Oh boy, is it hard to remain silent.

Especially, when you can feel every delicious inch of him, moving in and out of you ruthlessly, making your body shake from the onslaught of pleasure. Your grip on his shoulders tightens as little squeaks escape from your lips and your legs wrap themselves around his body tighter when you start to taste your release.

"Gosh, you're such a slut, letting me fuck you against a wall, in a store room." Wonwoo grits, a twisted smirk on his lips as his gaze roams over your face leisurely. "What if someone comes in right now, huh? What if they see you bouncing your pretty ass on my cock?"

"Mmph," you try to moan, the image sending short circuits to your brain. Wonwoo chuckles, loving your reaction. "You'd like that, won't you? You're one filthy little slut, my cherry." He grins after giving you a particular hard thrust, that makes your toes curl.

"P-please," you pant, breathless trying to grind your clit against his pelvis. One touch on your clit and you're gonna come. "Please, touch me."

The man only smiles, a cruel, mocking smile as he grabs your wrists in one hand and pins them hard on the wall behind you before thrusting once, twice, so hard that your back starts aching. Though you can't bring yourself to complain because the next moment his release is filling you up, making you moan unceremoniously.

When you think he's now gonna help you get off, the man only releases you and starts fixing himself up leaving you panting against the wall awkwardly, with the worst ache between your legs.

"W-what about me?" You croak.

"Sluts don't get to come so easily." Wonwoo smirks, throwing a look your way before walking out of the storeroom. You slide down the wall, absolutely livid, the urge to punch something growing very intense.

Something like his face.

That goddamn infuriating man!

Maybe you should just get yourself off.

"And don't think about touching yourself without me. I'll know if you do and trust me, you don't wanna make me mad." His head pops back in as he opens the door to warn you before disappearing once again.

"Fuck!" You're screaming now. "Fuck you, Jeon Wonwoo!"

XIV.

Over time, you start to grow close to Wonwoo. Definitely closer than you'd expect to be with a person like him. It also doesn't help that you have a silly little crush on him and every little thing he does makes your heart flutter. Like the way he'd always put the helmet on you carefully before riding on his bike, brush your hair away from your face with soft fingers, and pull you closer to his body when you walk down a busy sidewalk.

Jeon Wonwoo was in no way boyfriend material but his little gestures, which he probably did thoughtlessly made you think he was the perfect man for you.

While things were going breezy with Wonwoo, a new problem seems to have appeared. Jacob Lee, a classmate of yours has been on your tail nonstop for the past few days, acting all friendly and touchy with you when in reality you've never spoken to him before, only seen him around the campus.

And speaking of the devil, he appears, just as you are finishing up your study session in the library one afternoon.

"_____!" His voice makes you sigh exasperatedly. "Hey! I was looking for you!"

You give him a fake smile and instead focus on packing your stuff, knowing Wonwoo will be here soon. He has asked you to stay overnight at his place for a class project but you doubt how much you'll be working on that project.

The thought of his hands all over you makes you embarrassingly excited.

"I sent you a friend request last night, didn't you see?"

Yes, and I'm not interested. You give me the creeps.

Which was the truth. You have heard a few rumors about Jacob, not good things for sure and the way he approaches you, invading your personal space like a bulldozer certainly makes you wary of him.

"Ah really? I'm not quite active these days. Projects and all, you know?" You try to avoid eye contact with him as he takes the seat right next to you, leaning much too close for your liking. "And...I don't really accept requests unless they're my close friends."

"Heyyy," he nudges your arm, a huge grin on his face. "How can we become close friends unless you accept my request?"

Oh god.

You sigh, internally rolling your eyes as you stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "You know, I'm in a hurry, actually. Wonwoo is waiting for me-"

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"What?" You blink, albeit stunned.

"Are you dating Wonwoo?" He asks, his tone sharp, as he stands up and steps closer to you, brows knotted in a frown.

Seriously, what is up with this guy?

"Why do you ask?" You question instead.

He rolls his eyes. Instead of answering you, he speaks, "He's a boring dude. If you really need a man you should let me—"

"Yes, she's dating me." Wonwoo interrupts all of a sudden. You spin around to find him standing behind you, a very annoyed look on his face as he glowers at Jacob. If looks could kill he'd be dead by now.

His hand wraps around your waist, tugging you next to his body and you can't help but swoon a little as you melt in his embrace. You rest your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and sigh giddily.

The comfort and safety his arms provide are astounding.

"It doesn't really matter if you say I'm boring because she seems to find me interesting enough," Wonwoo says, his tone challenging, dark eyes focused on Jacob whose face now appears grim.

"Since we have established that she's mine," he emphasizes his words by tugging you even closer, "You should keep your hands to yourself and mind your business, hmm? Being nosy can get you hurt, you know."

Jacob's lips are pressed into a thin line as he glares at Wonwoo who ignores him and turns around, tugging you with him as you both walk out of the library.

As soon as you are outside, you step out of his arms and raise a brow at the man. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That? You were like...staking your claim or something."

"I was. You're mine." He says simply.

Heat blooms throughout your face. Butterflies run wild in your stomach.

Damn.

"Whatever," you try to play it cool by rolling your eyes and pushing past him. Wonwoo, however, grabs your wrist and pulls you into his arms and whispers in your ear.

"You don't seem to agree, little cherry. Let's go home so that I can show just how much you are mine." His knuckles trail over your jaw, then down your neck before grabbing it, a predatory glint in his eyes.

You can't stop the satisfied grin from appearing on your face as you scream on the inside.

XV.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about the last day." A voice says from behind you and you turn around to find Jacob standing rather awkwardly.

You are going through your notes in the library when you are interrupted.

Raising a brow of confusion, you blink at him.

Jacob scratches his head. "Uh...I overstepped that day, you know. You're obviously a couple and I was trying to overstep my boundaries. I'm really sorry about that."

Well, that's a development.

"It's alright." You give him a small smile. "And thank you for apologizing."

"It's all good if you've accepted my apology." He smiles. "Also, I was hoping you could do me a favor?"

"Sure?" You say, not quite sure.

"You see, I'm having a bit of a problem with the latest assignment. Could you help me with that, please? Just take a look at my draft?" He chuckles nervously, as if ashamed. "After all, the professor did say that you had the best research paper among all of us."

Ah.

"Yeah, sure I can help you with that."

"Great! Thanks a lot, ____. Could you perhaps come with me to my car? My notes are in there. Just take a quick look and I'll let you be on your way."

You nod as you pack your belongings and follow him to the parking lot behind the library. Once you two are in front of your car, Jacob holds the door open for you, motioning you to get inside. You raise a confused brow at him.

There is a shift in him as he suddenly produces a knife from his pocket and holds it against your stomach. He grits in your ear, "Now be a good girl and get in the car, ______. Try to do anything to attract any attention and ill fucking gut you."

"Jacob, please-''

"Get in the fucking car, _____. And lock the door once you are inside."

Shaking, you do as you are told and watch him get inside the driver's seat.

"Why are you doing this?" You whisper.

"Why do you think, cherry?" He spits. His words dump a bucket of ice cold water all over you as you come to the realization.

He knows. He fucking knows. He knows your secret.

"That's right, _____." The smirk on his face is cruel. "I randomly came across your channel one night. Of course, I didn't know it was you at first. But after a little bit of observing and putting things together, it wasn't hard to figure you out. And my suspicions were fully confirmed when your nerd of a boyfriend found your identity and started blackmailing you."

Oh my god.

A small, devastated gasp leaves your lips, making Jacob laugh. "Yeah. I saw you two that evening. I know everything, little cherry. All your dirty little secrets. But what I hate is that you let him have you, calling that dumb guy your boyfriend and whatnot, but you won't give me a chance? That's not fair, baby."

"You fucking stalker! You son of a-"

"Shut up!" He booms, holding the knife right in front of your eye. "You're going to shut the fuck up and let me have all the fun tonight, hmm? You're a slut, _____. Reading filthy things, showing yourself off on the internet and now you're acting like a prude in front of me? I can't tolerate that baby, I need a taste of you."

Oh god. You're going to throw up.

In a moment's decision, you try to attack him, reaching for his face and poking him in the eye while scratching his cheek. A struggle ensues while you try to writhe and kick out of his grasp but he's stronger, effectively holding you.

"Just go to sleep, little bitch. I'll take good care of you." He snickers, making your heart drop.

Oh no no no...

He smacks you in the back of the head twice with the butt of his knife, making your vision go blurry and your head spin. Your last thought is that you are doomed now.

XVI.

The back of your head is throbbing when you wake up. It takes a good few moments to get your brain and eyes to function and when you are somewhat coherent, you realize your wrists are tied together behind you, as you remain in a half laid position. Your whole body feels sore and taut as if you've been thrown around roughly.

"Finally, you're awake baby." The dreadful voice speaks. You tilt your head, despite the pain, to look at Jacob who is looming over you, smiling, a sick kind of excitement dancing in his eyes.

Your throat which was already parched, goes even drier.

"You're fucking sick." You croak, a jolt of pain going through your ribs as you try to move your body.

A slap lands on your cheek from nowhere, forcing you to fall on your side as you whine in pain.

"I told you to shut the fuck up!" He's yelling. "Do you know how hard it was to carry your body all the way here? I had to put you in the trunk, for fucks sake!" He complains, making you roll your eyes. "It would all have been fine if you'd just shut up and complied with me!"

He then grabs you by your hair, forcing you to turn your head and look at him. "I had to wait for the last hour for you to gain consciousness, baby. Despite my thoughts, I just couldn't get hard when you were lying still."

He says those words with a mock pout as if that's the most unfortunate thing in the world and your blood boils. "Fuck you, dickhead. I doubt your thing gets hard at all."

That earns you another slap, and another, followed by a lot of screaming and cursing from him.

You tune them out, trying to conjure a way out of this hell. The first person you think of is Wonwoo and your heart starts to ache. His classes should be done by now. Is he looking for you? Is he worried? Given his possessiveness, he definitely should be looking for you by now.

You only wish you had your phone somewhere nearby.

You look around the place, trying to spot anything that may distract this sicko and aid you with your escape. Unfortunately, this feels like an abandoned building and the only thing lying around are pieces of wood, splinters and a few metal rods. Which would serve as a good weapon, only if your hands were untied.

An idea forms in your head.

"I need to pee." You grunt, making Jacob raise a brow.

"Well then, do it." He shrugs before smiling. "You'll need to take your pants off anyway for what I'm about to do to you. Want me to help you with them, baby?"

So that definitely backfired.

Jacob approaches you, hands reaching for the button on your jeans as you writhe in protest, trying to crawl away from him. Your sore ribs protest heavily but you struggle against his grip, which only tightens the harder you protest.

You are so fucked.

"The more you fight, the harder I get, baby." He snickers in your ears, making you want to throw up.

Jacob manages to unbutton your jeans and as he is pulling down your zipper, you land a kick on his shin, making him fall on his ass with a grunt. His eyes flash dangerously at you.

"Maybe I should tie your legs too, huh? Just let me take these jeans off."

"Get your hands off of her. Right. Now." There's a sudden voice.

You both turn your head to find Wonwoo, to your utter relief, standing there, a menacing look on his face as his eyes bore into Jacob.

"Let her go." His voice is quiet.

To others, it may sound flat but you know Wonwoo and you know the look in his eyes very well. A shiver rolls down your spine and you try once again to loosen the ropes tying your wrists. If you aren't free soon, things are gonna get messy.

"The big bad boyfriend is here to save the day, no?" Jacob scoffs, swaying the knife around in his hand. "Whatcha gonna do, boyfriend?"

"You wouldn't wanna know." Wonwoo gives him a cold smile that gives even you, goosebumps. You try to mediate the situation. "Jacob, please, listen to me. This doesn't have to be like this. Just let me go and we can pretend this never happened."

"Shut up, you whore! I'm getting a taste of you today and I don't care whether it's next to your boyfriend's rotting corpse!" He screeches, pointing the knife at you.

Mentally, you shake your head.

This really isn't gonna end well.

A grunt echo through the air and it takes a few seconds for your fuzzy brain to realize that Wonwoo has punched Jacob. The latter tumbles onto the floor, groaning loudly, "You fucking asshole! You broke my nose!"

Wonwoo's face remains blank as he repeatedly keeps kicking Jacob's torso, not even letting him get up. When he's gasping for air, he steps back to take a good look at him before walking to the side and picking up a metal rod.

In the meantime, Jacob manages to stand up on wobbly legs and his eyes widen when he sees Wonwoo pick up the weapon. "You fucking psychopath. You really wanna die today, huh?" He scoffs before charging toward Wonwoo, the knife in his hand aiming for his face. Wonwoo dodges it by leaning back and just as Jacob is passing by him, he grabs his other arm, twisting it roughly before clutching the hand holding the knife.

Jacob yells in pain but doesn't back down and there is a struggle as they both try to overpower each other. Amidst that, the knife in Jacob's hand manages to cut a thin line on Wonwoo's cheek, making him release Jacob and take a few steps back.

Jacob chuckles, his smile looking exceptionally evil as blood runs down his nose and coats his teeth. "I'm gonna have so much fun carving up your pretty face, nerd."

Wonwoo watches him with calculative eyes, a wry, slight smirk on his face as he tilts his head on both sides, popping the veins in his neck.

You watch with bated breath, knowing it's gonna get ugly and it does as Wonwoo charges for Jacob, hitting his head in the first strike with the metal bar. Jacob falls to his knees, cupping the side of his head as a gush of blood flows out. Before he can stand back up, Wonwoo hits him again and again and again, three more times on his head before his body slumps onto the ground, passed out.

But that doesn't make Wonwoo stop as he continues with two more hits and you start yelling. "Wonwoo, stop! Stop it! You're gonna kill him!"

He stops and his eyes meet yours. They are absolutely cold and empty, laced with an expression of that's-what-I-was-about-to-do and for a moment you think that he's gonna kill him right in front of you but he doesn't.

Surprising you, he drops the bar on the ground with a loud echo before calmly walking towards you and kneeling down to untie your wrists. You pant heavily, relieved and grateful as your eyes become teary when one of his hand cups your cheek tenderly, his eyes trained on the cut on your lips and the bruise on your cheek.

And to think that this man was being so violent seconds ago.

"Does it hurt badly?" He asks, eyes narrowing on your bruises. You immediately shake your head, not trusting your voice to speak.

You croak, "How did you find me?"

He scoffs. "Little cherry, you should have figured out by now how possessive I am of you." He tilts his head, giving you an isn't-that-obvious look. Yet, you're confused.

"You...you didn't actually put a—"

"Exactly," he smiles, almost proud. "I downloaded a tracker on your phone."

Holy shit. There's a lot to unpack but for now, you are totally grateful. So you just nod and clutch his arms tightly.

Your heart thumps loudly as the man wraps an arm around your waist, supporting you to stand up. The bruises on your body make it hard to do so but you manage with his help and gently he guides you out of the warehouse, picking up your scattered items lying in a corner and putting them in your bag before moving past Jacob's still body.

You turn your head back to observe if he's breathing and you notice the slow rise and fall of his chest, making you sigh in relief.

Wonwoo walks you both out of the compound before coming to a stop underneath a large banyan tree, right where he parked his bike.

"Call a taxi." He says as he hands you your bag. "Go to a hospital. I'll be there soon."

Your heart falls.

"W-what? W-where are you going?" You croak, hands immediately clutching the sleeves of his jacket. His hands gently hold you by the arm, a stark contrast to the look on his face, malicious, ruthless. "You don't leave loose ends, baby."

You almost choke on your saliva.

"Wha-what? No! You-"

His lips press against yours, effectively silencing you. One of his hand cups your cheek while the other laces around your waist, pulling your body next to his. Blindly you follow his lead, wrapping your arms around his neck as your tongue intertwines with his into a passionate kiss. It tastes like temptation, lust and a little bit metallic— from the blood on your lips and even though in the back of your mind you know how wrong this is, it feels like the most right thing of all time.

A while later Wonwoo pulls back as the haze of lust disappears from his eyes, replaced with seriousness.

"Do as you're told, ____. This isn't a request."

It isn't. It's a command.

Yet, as he turns around to head back into the warehouse, you cannot bring yourself to call a taxi. But you also cannot muster up to follow him back inside and watch him finish the job.

Blissful ignorance, as they like to call it.

Besides, there is no crime if there is no witness.

You try to tell yourself that you're staying in case Jacob manages to run away or worse, hurt Wonwoo or in case somebody comes around here.

So you make yourself comfortable underneath the tree and take a seat, even though your sore body protests in pain.

Seconds turn to minutes as they fly by and just like that half an hour is gone. The sky is now overcast with thick clouds, indicating an impending downpour that makes you worry.

There is no sign of Wonwoo yet.

When the first few drops of rain hit the ground, you manage to get yourself up after a little struggle and despite your ribs protesting, you start to take small steps towards the building.

Something must have gone wrong.

But you don't have to go too far because you see a tall figure approaching you from the other end and you realize it's Wonwoo. Your breath stutters as you stay still in your spot, waiting for him to take notice of you and come to you. He seems to be walking while in deep thought as his focus remains on the ground so you call for him.

"Wonwoo!"

His head snaps up as he regards you with wide eyes, standing still for a moment. Then he's running towards you, stepping on little puddles along the way.

"What are you still doing here!" His tone is sharp but you ignore it. Instead, your eyes scan his body for any injuries. He seems to appear fine— disheveled really, but still fine. There is a new cut on his forehead and there are specks of blood all over his face, neck and hands, especially his hands which are completely wet and coated in crimson.

You highly doubt it's his own blood. Still, your hands reach out for him and you find yourself asking, "Are you okay?"

Wonwoo glares at you. "You should have gone to a hospital by now, ____. You're hurt." You shake your head and instead cup his cheek, thumb brushing away the little specks of blood that are yet to wash away despite the pouring rain.

His eyes visibly soften as he sighs and shrugs off his jacket and puts it over your shoulders.

"You're gonna catch a cold." He whispers as his arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling your body next to him.

"J-Jacob?" You whisper.

His eyes go empty for a few seconds before he gives you a small, evil smile, "I took care of him."

Your heart falls and you swallow, the gravity of the situation dawning on you.

"B-but the body-"

"Lot of wolves in that forest.'' He says, indicating the woods right behind the building. ''They'll finish the body."

He smirks, giving you a look. "I believe Jacob came here drunk and passed out and the wolves took him." He pins you down with a look that makes you shudder.

You're now an accomplice to murder.

Gripping your chin with his thumb and index finger, he tilts your head up. "Hey. Nobody will know...unless you tell them."

That's right. Nobody will know.

With a jerky nod, your eyes meet his and even though your limbs are sore, you lean on your tippy toes and pull his lips onto yours by cupping his cheeks. His lips taste like rain and blood, full of danger but oh so tempting. Your tongues dance in a haze of fiery lust and passion and by the time you two separate, you're a little dizzy.

You should really get to the hospital.

"I won't tell anyone," you whisper, stroking the nape of his neck.

"Because I have nothing to tell. Jacob got eaten by the wolves. It was just an accident, after all." You state, surprised at how calm you are.

A grin spreads across Wonwoo's face, evil, satisfied and proud. You can't also help but smile a little as he captures your lips for a quick kiss before murmuring, "You're perfect, you know that little cherry?"

You swoon. "Maybe you can remind me when we are home. After taking a trip to the hospital, of course."

"Let's go." He holds out his hand and you take it as you both walk to his bike. Blood still stains his fingertips but you don't care as they transfer on your hands too. Instead, you let him slowly guide you away from the building, from that sick asshole who isn't breathing anymore, thankfully.

When you look down your hands entangled with his, a sense of odd comfort settles over you.

Sure, this man is completely unhinged and dangerous but he's also perfect.

Perfect for you.

You're both a little unhinged and that's fine.

What matters is that you are safe now. With him.

Smiling in contentment, you bring your intertwined hands up to your lips and press a kiss on his bruised knuckles.

You are bloody, yet safe.

a/n: and hence, I chose the name Bloodily Safe! I know it isn't that good but istg I couldn't think of anything else😭. this is, undoubtedly, the darkest fic I've written yet and somewhere in the middle I started questioning whether it'd be a good idea to release this. but the urge to share psycho Wonwoo with y'all won in the end lol. I blame pledis for this, we need an actor Wonwoo in a villain role immediately!!! I've left it as an open ending so I'm here to announce that yes, I am planning on writing another part of this, something like an extended epilogue where we focus more on Wonwoo. their feelings for each other also remain vague here and I've kept it so purposefully. it's up to each of your own interpretation. if you'd like to hear mine, do send an ask. I'm all ready to analyze and discuss our fav psycho wonwoo. also, I've yet to proofread this thoroughly so there might be some errors. that's it from me for now, thank you for taking the time to read this! have a lovely day!

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