#Up In the Air chapter 4

[lukin08]

Up In The Air Chapter 4

Kristanna Modern AU

Rated T

WC: 2740

Also available on AO3

Previous Chapter

Anna had to admit she was having fun.  She sang karaoke twice, something she had never done before.  Then she cheered on several of the doctors as well.  The group was lost in their little world enjoying themselves and not caring if the whole scene was cheesy or not.  She also had a slight buzz going on.  It wasn’t anything crazy and she thought another round was in store.  

After taking orders, Anna made her way to the bar, glad that she had stayed with group all night instead of listening to Sue.  She didn’t have the time or desire to force herself to hit on some random guy at bar.  He didn’t ask for that and she probably would just have annoyed him anyway with her horrible ability to flirt.  Plus, if he had noticed her, nothing was stopping him from coming up and talking to her and that clearly had not happened. 

It didn’t matter anyway.  At some point, she noticed the table they were at was filled with new people.  He was gone.  Although, she did catch the brown haired one leave alone.  Anna assumed she just missed seeing the blond walk out.

Luckily, there was an opening at the bar and Anna was able to get her order in quickly.  She looked down at the glasses and bottles and realized she may have been a little overzealous in thinking she could carry all the drinks back.  Only one way to find out.  Several beer bottles fit snug between her arm and torso while she picked up three glasses, holding them like a triangle between her hands  It would be a balancing act the whole way back and Anna wasn’t exactly known for her grace.  She turned away from the bar, looked toward the table when she thought she heard her name and took a step.

She was stopped short, making a sudden impact with something solid and knocking her a step back.  It happened so fast, Anna was surprised she managed to stop from falling to the floor, square on her butt.  Somehow the bottles had stayed tucked in her arm, but the glasses weren’t as fortunate.  

“What the- “

Horror washed over her when she registered it wasn’t something she ran into, but someone.  She looked up and was met by a clenched jaw and cold, sharp eyes.  Anna jumped back, letting out a squeak when realized who she had slammed into.  Out of all the people in the bar, she had to run into the one she was ogling earlier with Sue and Camila.  Guess he hadn’t left after all.

His eyebrows were lowered and pulled close together.  “Did you even look where you were going?”

Anna slowly looked down from his eyes and saw his shirt was soaked.  Her brain clicked into triage mode.  “Oh no.  Oh no, no, no, no, no.”  She ran over to the bar, dumped the bottles on the counter and frantically grabbed two fistfuls of napkins.  Anna was back at him in a second patting the napkins on his shirt furiously and trying not to notice how solid he felt.  “I am so sorry!  I am.  I should have been paying attention, but I got distracted and… I’m just really, really, really sorry.”  She was going through the napkins at a breakneck speed.  “I am so clumsy.  Sorry.”  Anna was rambling now, but she couldn’t stop her mouth from moving.  “My dad used to say when I was a kid that my special talents were tripping over my own feet, falling off chairs and running into things.”

“Hey.”

“Sorry again.  Oh jeez, where are the glasses?  I didn’t cut you, did I?  Are you bleeding?”  She pulled at his shirt looking for signs of blood.

“Hey.” A hand came down on Anna’s arm, forcing her to still.  She looked up again.   His eyes were still sharply focused, but there was a hint of warmth behind them now; almost a slight amusement to them.  “Take a breath, ok?”

Anna nodded and inhaled slowly.  Then it all rushed to her on how near she was to him, her hands pressed against his frame and entirely too close to be appropriate.  She stepped back quickly.  “Sorry!” fell out of her mouth again as she thrust the wad of half damp napkins towards him.

“Thanks,” he said slowly taking the napkins from her.  He took a long gaze at her, his face relaxing.  Anna stared as he pulled his shirt out pressing the fabric to the napkins.  “At least I have a dark shirt on.”

“The drinks were clear.  And hopefully not too sticky.  I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

The man flicked his eyes up from his focus on his shirt.  There was a hint of amusement on his face.  “I think it would take a little more than that to do any damage.”

“I meant, are you cut?”

“No.”

That caused her to urgently scan the floor in earnest for any shards.  “The glasses!  Are they everywhere?”  She crouched down quickly, the blond following her.  “The last thing we need is someone getting their foot cut on a shard.  You have no idea how easily it is to get an infection from cut glass like this.”

“Be careful.  I’ll get a broom.”

“No wait.  Ah ha!”  Anna found all three quickly and help one up triumphantly.  “They didn’t break!”  She took a good look at one.  “That was impressive.  What brand are these?”

“I’ve got those.”  He easily plucked the glasses from her hands, slotting them between his fingers in one hand to hold.  Anna stood up with him, noticing him pick up a box from the floor and hold in it in his other hand.  She followed him as he walked over to the bar.  

“Craig!”

A slightly older gentleman walked over.  Anna watched as the man next to her put the glasses down then take the box in both hands and lift it over the bar.”

“Jesus, Kris!  Give an old man some warning.” Craig said as he took the box, clearly struggling a little with the weight of it.  “Couldn’t you have walked this around the bar?”

“Faster this way.  That’s the last case of Yachtside I could find in the back.”

Craig let out a whistle.  “We are really flying through things tonight.  Thanks for the help, bud.”

“Sure.”

Anna was staring at the beer bottles trying to remember what everyone ordered, when she noticed he had turned to face her. 

“Are you ok?”

“If you exclude my embarrassment, I’m fine.  I’ll just have to order another round.  Shit that cost a lot.  Guess that’s what I deserve.”

“Hold on a second.”

Anna watched as the man next to her called the bartender over again.  In no time she had a fresh set of drinks.

“I made these doubles for the wait,” Craig said setting down the drinks.

Anna went to hand him her card, when he waived her off.  “No charge.”

“Are you sure?  

“No sense of paying for drinks you didn’t get to enjoy.  Plus, Kris asked nicely.” He smiled and winked at her.

Anna looked over to the man next to her.  His face had softened.  He was even better looking now than she had seen from afar.  “Thank you.  You didn’t have to do that.”

“Not a problem.”

“Now I have to figure out how to get all these moved without dropping them a second time.”

“Keep your head up this time.  Or better yet-“ He raised his arm and a waitress was over a minute later, putting all the bottles and glasses on a tray and whisking them over to the group.

“That was a much better idea!  Thank you.  And I’m sorry again.”

“Consider it forgotten.”

He stood there, leaning against the bar just watching her.  Anna had to be careful, or she could get lost in those eyes she felt boring into her as if he was trying to figure something out.  She looked down, fiddling with her glass before taking a sip of her drink.  “How is it you were sitting at the table earlier and now you’re carrying cases of beer around?”

His raised an eyebrow.  “You were watching me earlier?”

Anna’s cheeks flared red, but she flashed him a flirty smile.  “Just being observant.”

He chuckled, looking down then catching her eyes again. “It’s my uncle’s bar.  They’re short staffed tonight, so I stayed to help for a bit after my friend left.

Anna rested her elbow on the bar top, her head leaning in her hand.  “That was nice of you.  So, Chris, is it?”

He nodded. 

“Is that short for something?”

“Just Kris for now.  And it’s with a K.”

“Ooh intriguing.”

***************

Anna went back to the group, but she found herself drawn back to the bar, talking to Kris whenever he came back from whatever task he assigned himself to help out.  Eventually, they found themselves sitting on the bar stools, in conversation about nothing in particular. 

At some point Sue came over to say goodbye.  “Remember, you’re here to start over, not become a nun,” she whispered in Anna’s ear.  

He gave Anna a look when her face flushed red.  Then she had to cover her mouth to stifle a laugh, when Sue turned around, walking backwards towards the door, giving Anna two thumbs up.  Kris turned to look behind him, but Sue was already out the door.

“Something funny?” he asked, his attention back on Anna.

“No.”  Anna put her hand on top of his that was on the bar top.  “I’m just having a good time tonight.”  The smile he gave her, made Anna’s stomach flutter.

***************

The group dispersed, one by one, some finding Anna to say goodbye.  Anna was floating on a high.  Her whole body felt warm and cozy.  

“Is that a band?” She asked, looking at the back of the bar.

“It appears to be.  They should be set up soon.”

 “Ooh exciting!”  Anna turned back to Kris.  “I hope they are good and play something you can dance to.”

“You like live music?” He asked. 

 “Not sure.”

His eyes crinkled with an amused look.  “How can you not be sure?”

“Don’t know yet.  It depends on the band.”

“Are you sure of anything?”

Anna leaned forward.  It was nowhere near as seductive as she had in her head, but it would have to do.  “I’m sure I could get you to dance.” 

****************

Everything seemed to be twenty times as exciting as it was an hour ago.  It had taken Anna awhile to convince Camila she was ok on her own.  Yes, she promised to call when she was leaving and yes, of course she’d take an Uber, and yes, she’d call in the morning as well no matter where she ended up.  Anna was fine and Camila needed to stop treating her like a child.   Ok. Anna maybe had one or two drinks more than she probably should have, but she was good at hiding it.  She was twenty-nine and perfectly capable of taking care of herself thank you very much.  She wasn’t that naïve girl anymore that she had been in college.

The band was playing her favorite song and Anna was signing along, sipping on her drink whenever her brain came up short with remembering some of the lyrics.

He was smiling and laughing with her, and she desperately needed to kiss him.

Then she was.  Anna was floating on a high at how amazing it was.  Sue’s parting words drifted in her head, and she could only think of one thing. 

More.

***************

Everything was spiraling around Anna.  She was trying to focus on what happened, but her thoughts were foggy and blinded from her rage.  Everything was going so well, then… just crumbled away.  When Anna suggested they go to his place, he deflected.  She didn’t stop, sure it wouldn’t take much convincing on his part.

It was only the smallest slurring of her words, but his hands dropped from her as soon as he heard it and he stepped away.

“I don’t do one-night stands,” he said coolly.

The rejection stun.  Something in her gut churned at the thought of her throwing herself at him only to be told she wasn’t good enough.  Had she ever been to anyone?  When she looked up at him, pity and judgement was all over his face.  It was the same look she had seen from her sister when they were younger, and Anna saw red.

***************

“Stop following me!  I don’t need a babysitter!”  Anna spit her words out as hard as she could.  She looked behind her tripping and nearly falling to the blacktop in the process.

“Not until you give me the FOB to your car.”

“Fat chance.”  Anna hit the button in her hand unlocking her car.

Kris was right behind her.  “If you try to drive, you’re going to have to run me over to get out of the parking lot.”

“Tempting.” Anna wrenched the door open, but he wouldn’t go away.  “For Pete’s Sake.  Here.  Catch!”  She threw the FOB with her keys as far as she could.

He had to duck out of the way as they flew past his head.  “Oh, come on!”

She hopped in the car, knees on the driver side seat, while she dived to the floor of the passenger side searching.  Anna’s diversion of throwing her keys didn’t last long.

“Anna…” Kris was right next to the car.  She could hear the exasperation in his voice.  “What are you doing?”

“What does it matter?”

“I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Why do you care anyway?”

“What?”

Anna ignored him.  “Yes!” she exclaimed and sat up holding up her phone.  Anna jumped out of the car and slammed the door, almost losing her balance and falling again.  “See.  Told you I wasn’t gonna drive.  Now give me my stuff back.”

Kris dropped the keys in Anna’s hand when she held out her hand for them.  She looked down and fumed.  “The FOB too.”

He was already walking away.  “No way.”  Anna followed him when he held up the FOB and she heard the door look.

“Give ’em back!”

“Get an Uber, call a friend.  I don’t care.  But you aren’t getting this back until then.”

“I told you; I’m not driving.  Why won’t you give them to me?”

“I was working here tonight and am responsible for your wellbeing.  And that includes making sure you don’t get in that car tonight.”

Anna’s hands balled up into fists.  “You are such an asshole!”

Kris barked out a laughed.  “Not the first time I’ve heard that.”

She fumbled with her phone, trying to pull up the Uber app.  There was no way she was calling Camila now.  Everything from the night started crashing on Anna.  She forced her anger to keep her tears at bay.

“Please stop pretending like you care.  What was your angle anyway tonight?  Just to have a little fun and kick me aside?”

He stopped on the sidewalk and turned to face her.  “I – “

Anna held out her hand cutting him off.  “You know what?  Nevermind. I don’t need to know.”

Kris’s mouth drew a hard line.  “Guess you never will then.”

“Don’t care.”  She held her phone out.  “Look.  The car is 5 minutes away.  I’m being good.  Can I have my FOB back, pretty please?”  

“Sure.  Tomorrow.”

“Wait, what?”

“There will be someone here by 10.  Just knock on the door.”

He was already walking back inside.  Anna’s frustration boiled over.  “Ooh, you are… you’re…such an ass!”

“An ass that doesn’t trust your judgement!  And you told me that already!”

Anna stood there fuming, not bothering to follow him into the bar.  She sank to the curb and buried her head in hands, desperately trying not to cry.  

Kristoff walked into the bar and watched out a side window until a car pulled up and Anna got in it.  He went to the back of the bar and tossed the FOB in a jar.  

Kristoff’s uncle came from the kitchen and slapped him on the shoulder.  “Thanks for the help tonight, bud.  You stayed late.  Fun night for you?” 

He could see the look in his uncle’s eyes.  Kristoff grabbed his keys from a back cabinet and went to walk out.  “Not the words I would use.”

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 24

PREVIOUS

“What do you MEAN Smithy is in the hospital with a stab wound to his stomach?!” Nicky’s own voice is agony for his hangover but honestly, how the fuck else was he supposed to respond when he had asked Andrew where FF was and gotten that as a response.

“Calm down.” Andrew says and he looks tired, looks stressed, and maybe even just…a touch nervous?

Nicky isn’t as good as Neil at reading Andrew Minyard. He doesn’t think anyone will ever be as fluent in the language of Andrew Minyard as Neil Josten but Nicky has picked up some key phrases.

He can see when he’s making a joke that is a step too far. He can see when his cousin wants to kiss Neil but is holding back. He can see when his cousin is stressed.

He can see a guilty curve to Andrew’s spine.

“Andrew, answer me honestly, did you stab my sweet baby freshman?” Nicky asks and he’s not sure if the nausea he feels anymore is from horror or from the sheer number of drinks he had put in his system the night before.

Roland usually cuts him off before he gets this level.

Roland also has a habit of pouring heavier when he’s stressed.

Roland also also tends to make complicated fruity drinks that Nicky likes when he’s stressed.

Andrew’s jaw tenses but it’s Neil who speaks up, “It was an accident. It happened during a fight.” Neil says and Nicky throws his hands up in the air.

“You got into a FIGHT with my sweet baby freshman? Sweet little Smithy? The boy who made brownies that made me feel kinda straight for a dead woman?!” Nicky exclaims and sees Andrew and Neil open their mouths to say something but, “I promised him that if he wanted I’d get him something hard that’d mess his GUTS up but this isn’t what I MEANT.” He lets himself collapse dramatically over the table.

“Nicky, shut up!” Kevin hisses from his spot on the couch.

“When the fuck did Kevin get here?!” Because seriously, how fucked up was Nicky last night that he doesn’t remember Kevin coming on this Columbia trip? Where’d he sit? He couldn’t really remember coming over after Thanksgiving. Had Andrew put Kevin in the trunk? Had Andrew put Nicky in the trunk?

“He came with Wymack.” Neil cut in before Nicky started testing reality. “Wymack is at the hospital since he’s…uh…he’s the…”

“Medical Power of Attorney” Andrew answers.

“Yes! Thank you, the Medical power of attorney for Smith. He needed surgery and Wymack wanted to be nearby in case he had to make any pressing decisions.” Neil explains and yeah that tracks, he knows a little bit about FF’s family and knows that aside from his grandma on his dad’s side the rest can go take a long walk off a short volcano observation platform

“Okay, that explains why Kevin is here….how?! Despite all of the unwarranted advice, Kevin is not a medical professional.” Nicky says before turning to Kevin, “So Kevin, what insane Exy-related reason are you here? Don’t lie and say it’s because you want to sign the get well soon card.” He hisses.

“Fuck you!” Kevin spits, “I need to know how long Smiths is going to be out of commission and what his PT is going to look like. He was supposed to be starting during the spring season.” Kevin growls.

“There it is!” Nicky throws up his hands.

“Nicky, just calm down!” Neil pleads.

“How can I stay calm? Andrew stabbed Smithy! So not only is my favorite freshman in the hospital Andrew’s going to end up back on those god forsaken meds again!” Nicky shouts and buries his face in his hands.

“Smith isn’t going to say that.” Andrew’s voice is calm but Nicky can hear the slight edge.

“Oh yeah?” Nicky asks because he could see FF promising to never mention who stabbed him if Andrew would just spare his life. FF was going to be even MORE of a disaster when it came to his anxiety around Andrew. Nicky wouldn’t be surprised if his friend just straight up dropped out after this. His cousin is safe but he’s absolutely going to lose his friend.

“Because he’s saying Romero Malcolm stabbed him.” Andrew finishes.

Nicky sits up.

“Wait, what?” Nicky asks.

“Last night Romero Malcolm was at Eden’s.” Neil says voice even in a way that lets Nicky know that he’s trying to stay calm, “Smith recognized him, heard he wanted to grab,” Neil swallows thickly, “…grab one of my friends and saw them looking at…” Neil trails off and looks to Andrew who shakes his head, “…around for someone to grab.” Neil seems to decide and Nicky knows when something is being hidden from him but he’s more interested in the story than what Neil is hiding at the moment, “He got Romero’s attention so that he wouldn’t do anything bad in Eden’s and let Roland know to call help. He went out alone into the alley but Romero didn’t follow him.” Neil explains.

“Oh thank god.” Nicky sighs.

“Because he’d alerted Jackson Plank was lying in wait to ambush him.” Neil continues.

“Oh dear god.” Nicky exclaims.

“He uh…” Neil looks to Andrew who shakes his head again, “okay we don’t know exactly HOW Smith managed to do it but he beat Jackson up pretty bad.” Neil explains.

Nicky feels his brain stop working.

He has watched FF trip over his own feet, walk into four different trees, and almost sprain his ankle walking across a flat surface. He knows FF has been watching self-defense videos and had even gotten some pointers from Matt but even Matt had told him his better bet was probably just to yell “WOW WHAT’S THAT OVER THERE?!”, point behind the attacker, and run as fast as humanly possible away from a fight.

Neil is still talking.

Nicky boots back up quickly.

“…a gun. He tackled Romero into Andrew and Andrew’s knife ended up in Smith’s stomach on accident while they were wrestling for the gun. Smith is the one who said he’s going to tell everyone who asks that it was Romero. He even said it to me.” Neil says with an awkward laugh.

“And you believed him.” Andrew says and there’s warmth in his cousin’s eyes as he looks at Neil and teases him.

“And I believed him.” Neil confirms.

“Okay, so you swear to me that you did not INTENTIONALLY stab my BFF?” Nicky asks looking at Andrew seriously.

“BFF, seriously?” Kevin asks.

“Best Freshman Friend.” Nicky answers quickly, “Don’t worry Kevin, you lose out to Matt in all regards for my Best Senior Friend.” He says.

Kevin just flips him off but Nicky turns his attention back to Andrew, “Andrew, I need to hear it.” He says .

“I did not intentionally stab Smith.” Andrew confirms.

Nicky lets the horrified nausea leave him with only his hangover nausea.

“Okay, we can work with that.”  Nicky leans back. “Have you heard from that Agent?” he asks looking at Neil.

Neil nods but then looks nervous and shoots a look towards Kevin, “The FBI is sending Browning and a field office agent to talk with us but…Ichirou also contacted me.” He says and Nicky watches as Kevin perks up.

“He did?!” Kevin squawks looking around like he expected the head of the Moriyama family to appear from the shadows.

“He wants to make sure we do our part to keep the Moriyama name out of this. He is going to deal with Romero and Jackson himself.” Neil says looking nervous.

Nicky clenches his eyes shut, “Well you’re not going to mention them right?” he hears Kevin ask.

“Of course not Kevin.” Nicky hears Andrew hiss.

“Good.” Kevin says.

There’s silence in the wake of Neil’s statement.

Nicky takes a deep breath and wishes his head was a little less agonizing. “Why aren’t we at the hospital to see Smithy?” he asks because he has nothing he can do about Ichirou so he may as well put it out of his mind.

There is some grumbling.

“Wymack said that he’ll just make us sit in the waiting room without any updates.” Neil says. “We’re picking up Smith’s grandma from the airport and she’s our ticket to getting an actual update beyond ‘not dead yet’ from Wymack.” He adds.

“What, you really can’t get updates without Wymack?” Nicky asks.

Andrew looks at Nicky and Nicky can’t read a single thing his cousin is thinking.

“What’s Smith’s first name Nicky.” Andrew asks.

“Oh God fucking Dammit.” Nicky’s head hurts too bad for this.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

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The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

[serpentarius]

“Do you know the story of Scylla and Charybdis, Daniel?” 

Daniel scoffs. “'Course. Any writer worth his salt knows Homer.” 

Armand gives him an expectant nod.  

The human sighs. “Odysseus faced Scylla and Charybdis on his way home," he continues. "Scylla’s the multi-headed demon, and Charybdis - y'know, the whirlpool, or whatever."

The vampire hums. “And what is your interpretation of the story?” 

Daniel simply shrugs. But a glint of excitement flickers in his eyes. "I mean. There’s the obvious, ‘lesser of two evils’ thing everyone takes away from it. But it ain't just about picking your poison, you know? It's about - I dunno, the messiness of life choices."

As he speaks, Daniel's voice gains a subtle enthusiasm, betraying his initial feigned indifference. "It's like, you're not just flipping a coin and hoping for the best. You gotta dive deep into the consequences, face 'em head-on with some guts and smarts. And you can’t just pat yourself on the back for dodging the bigger disaster, either. I mean, he still lost guys, right, so he has to own up to the fallout. Wade through it with some goddamn backbone. There's gotta be a lesson learned from the whole ordeal. Otherwise he's setting himself up for more trouble down the line."

"That's all well and good," Armand retorts. "But survival is the thing that matters most, in the end. Sometimes there's no time for overthinking or philosophical musings. You've got to act swiftly, to prioritize pragmatism over philosophy, in order to get out alive. So, Daniel, I ask you - who do you think is the lesser evil?"

"Between a man-eating monster and a ship-eating vortex?" Daniel huffs. "Odysseus chose the monster. I choose the monster."

Armand shakes his head disapprovingly. "A naïve decision. But then again, you are just a naïve boy."

Daniel bristles. His agitation is evident when he spits out, “Don’t fucking belittle me. You're probably just saying that because I'm actually making some good points, and you don't like being outsmarted.” He presses on, “Odysseus only lost six men that way. They all would’ve died in the whirlpool.” 

Armand meets Daniel's gaze evenly. "Odysseus was selfish. He only opted out of the whirlpool due to self-serving motives. There was a chance, however slim, that they might have survived it. But by choosing the monster, he risked the lives of his men for his own gain."

"It wasn't selfish if the odds were stacked against them!" Daniel argues. "You can't convince me it wasn't the best option they had. 'Prioritize pragmatism over philosophy', eh? What a fucking joke, coming from you."

Armand stands firm. "He should have gambled everything for a chance at survival," he asserts, his eyes fixed on Daniel's now. Despite Daniel's defiant posture, Armand can see the telltale signs of uncertainty flickering on his face; the creases on his forehead, the slight dilation of his pupils. It betrays his wavering resolve. "You should know by now, Daniel, that the watery abyss may spare you its grasp…”

He makes his way towards the door. Daniel's gaze follows, helplessly reverent.

“But the predator of men knows no mercy.” 

as long as I find you interesting (I won’t kill you)

[burning-academia-if]

Hi Em, do you have an estimate of how many chapters the whole game will have?

I do not lol. Act 1 will probably have ten chapters, although I keep shifting things around so that's a rough estimate.

As for Act 2 I'm not sure yet! For now I'm mostly focusing on Act 1 and once it's finished I'll be taking a ""break"" to edit it as well as start the more detailed outlining for Act 2.

I think Act 2 will have less chapters then Act 1 just because lmfaO 50 chapters in total is insane. I'm aiming for 6 chapters for each Act 2 path, but everything for Act 2 is still up in the air

[anothermonikan]

wait the final chapter of MYM is only 3 episodes,,,,excluding the special,,,,man.

[hydn-jpg]

the banter !!!! oh how i've missed the banter 🥹

[nightofmiracles]

whenever news get finally shared, it might actually motivate me with the rewatch. some weeks ago i started v1 again and i did take some notes bc apparently i'm doing research for meta reasons ? and i couldn't really bring myself to keep going. same goes with reading the books again because my god i completely forgot about them

[foreverdolly]

ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 4 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.

there is a mild noncon scene in this chapter. read at your own risk or skip past it.

word count: 5.2k

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In that strange place between waking and sleep- that's where you currently existed. You made a home there, wading through the waters of confusion as the events of last night came flooding back to you. At first none of it felt real. It was all a dream. . . it had to be. 

But there was a foreign warmth beside you and something heavy weighing down on your chest, and while your limbs were numb with sleep you could still register that it wasn’t you. Not your arm. 

Not your warmth. 

So you opened your eyes and joined the land of the living once more. 

The mornings on Caladan were lovely. Light filtered through your curtains regardless of the frequent overcast, the sprawling farmlands vibrant and oh so alive all around you. Your childhood home was all blue-grays and greens. The halls smelled briney- slightly citrus during the spring and summer months. The air was always humid, despite the chill; moisture clinging to your skin and clothes. 

Feyd’s room was slate gray and black, slightly bigger than the one you had been sleeping in since your arrival on Giedi Prime. The air was acrid, the scent of iron so heavy in the air that it almost tasted sweet on your tongue. It was on your palate now, nearly causing you to gag when you took in a deep, steadying breath. 

You had wanted to go home the second you stepped foot on the industrial planet, if only because you despised change. You wanted your family, your horses, your ocean-side view. Now, looking back at how childish your home-sick reasonings were, you couldn’t help but feel naive. 

Not one, but many, had conspired against you. They had hopes that their pale prince would cut his losses and grow bored of you, but took it upon themselves to rid their hallowed halls of your presence. Anger began strumming through your veins, begging for release. 

You did not let the feeling take shape. Acting on hate alone would be your undoing, you knew that. Yes, you were not as strong as some of Geidi Primes weakest warriors, but you made up for it with your. . . inherited gifts. 

Your hand flew to your neck, hissing when your fingertips made contact with the tender skin. You groaned, your larynx screaming at protest. Did this mean. . . 

No. 

No, no, no.

You sat upright in bed, Feyd groaning as his arm was flung off of your chest due to your haste. Unable to process the reality that he had been touching you so casually, you instead focused on the fact that the noise you had just emitted sounded choppy. Garbled. Useless.

“My voice,” You started, eyes widening to the size of saucers as the words reached your ears. It was exactly as you feared. “I can’t use it.” 

You could barely speak normally, let alone be able to manipulate the Voice. How long would it take your throat to heal? A few days? A week? A month? It had only taken two days for a few of the Baron’s men to plan out their attack. Who knew when they would try to strike again? You were a sitting duck and you refused to die like this. 

“You won’t need it.” Feyd’s deep voice sounded beside you, the sheets rustling as his muscled body rolled over on the plush bed. 

You tried in vain not to be distracted by his naked chest- by the planes of perfectly toned abs and the swell of his biceps as he stretched them above his head. It was gross to be attracted to him; disgusting, really. 

Even in the light of day- if you could even call the murky gray that came in through the blinds light- the shadows seemed to pool around the bloodthirsty man. He wore them like a second skin. Had become them and learned to wield them at will. 

His face was once again spotless, no blood to be found on him from last night's activities. He had been utterly soaked just a few hours ago. It had dripped down his sword arm, his nightshirt clinging to his chest and shoulders. . . and he had washed it all away down the drain like the lives he had taken meant nothing. 

And it probably didn’t mean a damn thing to a man like him. Someone so used to reaping souls and shattering lives. 

Your chest swelled as you turned to face him, scooting as far back on the bed as you possibly could. When you had fallen asleep he was lounging on the couch. He must have slipped into bed once you were asleep, outwardly lying about the fact that he would put distance between the two of you. 

“I am not safe here.” You spat out, your broken voice still dripping with venom. 

He seemed bored, as if your worries were unfounded. “I will cleave the heads off of anyone that even looks in your direction.” He said simply. Not a threat but a crimson stained promise.

Gone was the starry eyed girl who saw nothing wrong with the galaxy. Your innocence had been stripped from you the second that the man’s hands had found their way around your throat. Your body finally seemed to register pain now that you were fully awake. Your back felt like hell- a purple bruise no doubt marring your skin where it had connected with the heavy dresser. And your cheek? You brushed your fingers over that spot next. It felt hot under your touch. 

“I can protect myself.” That was a lie. You could taste the horribly constructed fib on the tip of your tongue and it was bitter. Impossible to stomach. 

Feyd sat up on his elbows then, looking over your face. His eyes hardened on your cheek, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth when his eyes started to dip lower. How was it possible that anyone expected you to ever grow used to his presence? His eyes on you felt like a hot brand. You attempted to flinch away from him as his hand reached out for your neck, but he touched you anyway. 

“I should have savored that kill. Taken my time.” His voice was still gravely from sleep, but the anger was clear on his face. 

Seeing you like this, for whatever reason, enraged him. You didn’t want to know why. . . at least you told yourself that. A man like Feyd couldn’t possibly care for anyone and you doubted that he would ever be capable of such an emotion. 

“Do you truly take joy in murdering others?” You couldn’t understand him. There was no common ground between the two of you. He was a complete mystery to you. 

They hadn’t even been your deaths, and yet here you were, feeling torn about all of the blood that had been shed. Feyd had killed seven men last night. Were you really worth all of that? 

“I’m culling the herd,” He sat up then, his eyes sparking with a sick sense of delight that had your stomach roiling. This sounded like the ramblings of a madman.“They were weak, body and mind. Disobedient soldiers should always be purged. They were a disease, and I treated them as such.” The corner of his lip tugged up into a small smirk, as if he was reliving the moment that his blade cleaved through flesh and bone. 

“You went overboard on my behalf.” They would hate you more now. Those guards no doubt had loved ones, all of whom would be gunning for you now. 

“Would you rather I left them all alive? Given them a small slap on the wrist?” He was leaning in now, as if being closer to you would give him a better understanding of where you were coming from. 

The sheets wrapped around your limbs, acting like restraints as you tried to back away from him and his intimidating presence. You couldn’t help but feel as though he was sizing you up, questioning whether he could swallow you up in one bite. His eyes, lidded with sleep and hazy with something you couldn’t quite discern told you that he would eat very, very slowly. Your fingers twitched at your sides, his eyes narrowing as though he could smell your fear in the air that the both of you now shared due to your close proximity.

“No,” You hated that you were agreeing with him. “They would have found another way to kill me. I just hate that you had to make such a show of it all.” I hate that I couldn’t kill them myself. 

Who were you to decide if someone lived or died for their crimes? And yet. . . you were glad that they were dead. You couldn’t find it within yourself to feel sorry for them. They got exactly what they deserve, so why did you feel so awful about it? 

Because the “old” you would have begged for their lives to be spared. That sweet, innocent girl would have abhorred the blood and gore, which begged the question: who did that make you now? Has this place truly changed you so intrinsically in a matter of days? You hated the idea that you were adjusting to the environment. It terrified you.

Feyd could see the anger churning behind your wide eyes, no matter how hard you tried to mask it. You were beautiful like this, so accepting of his nature. . . and yet you still fought him. Still fought this. He adored you for it. Loved you for it. There it was again- that word. He let the phrase sink into his bones, settle inside of his chest. 

‘I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. 

Look at what I can do for you. Let me kill again for you. Let me prove my worth. Let me have you. Let me taste you. Let me devour you until there is nothing left.’ 

He was so close now that the heat and smell of him was clouding your mind. Much like the smog outside, he was poisoning the air around you. The sheets tightened around your legs as you tried to kick them off of you, hellbent on escaping the bed and dressing for the day. You were starving, sore, and in desperate need of another hot bath. You still felt dirty after last night, like the stains hadn’t been completely washed away. 

He was looking at you with those eyes. God, his eyes. . . they were blue, bottomless pits and you were sinking. . . drowning. You found it hard to breathe while he was looking at you like that. He was assessing you with a heated gaze that unwillingly set your insides ablaze. His hands were suddenly on the sides of your upper thighs, the insides of his wrists brushing against them. You could feel skin against skin, your thin nightdress doing nothing to shield you from his touch. 

“You wanted them dead, I can tell.” And he smiled at that, a genuine one full of misplaced mirth. 

“I don’t want anyone to die.” Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, so heavy that you suddenly found it hard to speak. 

“I didn’t take you for a liar, little Atreides.” His head tilted to the side as he licked his lips. He was so close to you that his tongue nearly brushed against your parted lips. 

And then he was pulling away, his warmth being ripped away from you far too quickly. Feyd left you on the bed as he sauntered over to his closet, unabashed of his half naked body- almost as though he was proud to show it off to you. His broad shoulders, toned back- it was well earned. It was the body of a warrior- of a killer. 

You had to remind yourself that he was a murderer, tearing your eyes from him. It was almost as though you couldn’t get enough oxygen. Your lungs ached as you realized that he had practically siphoned it out of the room with his commanding presence. 

He terrified you down to your very core. It was as though he was seeing your soul for what it truly was. . . 

And it was as black as his own.

The Na-Baron’s hand against the small of your back felt more like a collar than anything. You couldn’t help but wonder if that was how you appeared to others now, like nothing more than a pet. It was a silent show of ownership, as were his hardened eyes as he turned his head to glare at each and every guard that passed in the hall. Their familiar uniform had your knees buckling and your hands shaking. He must have felt those tremors, for his fingers tangled themselves into the fabric of your shirt, like he could anchor you to him. ‘You’re safe with me,’ the gesture seemed to say. 

The floor had been wiped clean of last night's massacre and it was almost as if it had never happened at all. You wished that you could delude yourself into believing that it hadn’t, but your aching bones were a constant reminder. An Atreides did not belong here. 

The distance that you craved was not something that Feyd seemed keen on granting. When you had finished bathing earlier, your skin scrubbed raw, you had found him lounging back against the bed, eyes trained on the bathroom door. His presence was stifling, as were the halls of this strange empire. They appeared to be tightening around you, reminding you of your lack of freedom. 

A canary in a gilded cage. 

“I’ve been filled in on the events of last night,” The Baron said as a way of greeting when the two of you found your way into the dining room. “You had your fun it seemed, nephew.” He didn’t sound angry, which was good you supposed. Then again, he didn’t sound very approving either. 

Feyd paused for a split second in the doorway, his lips pursing in confusion. You recalled him saying that the Baron always ate his meals in his own quarters. Your throat bobbed as Feyd’s hands urged you further into the room. Suddenly you were no longer hungry. Like a child, you wished that you could dig your heels in and refuse to make your way any further inside. While his nephew scared and confused you, Baron Vladimir Harkonnen was an absolute waking nightmare. From his pale, unattractive face to his plump, gluttonous build- even his eyes seemed completely void of any light. Your quivering worsened because you knew, even if Feyd wanted to keep you alive for whatever reason, that he would not disobey his beloved uncle. You would never expect that of him. If the Harkonnen wanted you dead. . . then so it shall be. 

“It was very enjoyable.” Feyd said simply, sitting down in the chair directly beside you. 

The Baron, at his spot at the head of the table, felt miles away. He was assessing the two of you, his gaze bouncing from your form and then to that of his nephew. It wasn’t until Feyd placed his arm over the back of your chair that he finally smiled. It looked more like a sneer than anything else, and all at once you wished to punch those teeth right out of his skull. His ill treatment of your father would never be forgotten, forced marriage or not. 

“You two look. . . close.” He concluded, folding his hands in his lap as he sat back. His dark robes hugged all of the wrong places- he was greed in the flesh. 

Feyd didn’t say anything, but he did lean in closer. It occurred to you that he was acting almost like a shield between you and his uncle. All at once your shaking stopped, your eyes flickering up to meet his face for the briefest of moments before you finally looked down at your plate. Again, the food did not appeal to your appetite. There were no fresh fruits or vegetables. Everything was brown, beige and white. The meals here were void of any color or variety and you found it fitting. 

“We slept together last night, as it should have been from the very beginning.” Feyd said, no room for arguments. His tone was final- absolute, even in the face of the one person that he answered directly to. 

Your cheeks were suddenly blazing hot as you realized how easily his statement could be misunderstood. Your lips parted, as though you could defend yourself and set the record straight, but the Baron was already nodding. He didn’t care either way. You were sent here to procreate, afterall. What the two of you did or didn’t do meant nothing to him. As the daughter of Duke Atreides you were nothing more than a pawn- a bargaining piece at best. Your blood boiled as you stabbed your fork into whatever meat had been served. It was all you could do not to brandish the small serrated blade that laid beside your plate and shove it through one of Vladimir’s overly assessing eyes. 

“I just thought that she might have wanted her own space before the ceremony,” He started, gesturing towards you. It was as though you weren’t even in the room at all. “But I’ll make sure that her things are brought to your room.” 

You did want your own space. Desperately. This whole situation felt wrong, and yet you were helpless. A few more days in your own room was nothing, really. Not when the two of you would be sharing a room for the remainder of your lives. 

“It’s our room.” Feyd corrected, using his free hand so that he could take a sip of his drink. 

His arm brushed against the back of your neck as he leaned forward ever-so-slightly so that he could place the cup back down on the table. The brush of his skin against yours sent a chill down your spine. 

“Very well. Your shared room.” And the Baron seemed pleased.

The cogs started turning in your head as you stared at that expression on his face. Was that gloating that you sensed?

He looked as though he had won. 

It would make no sense at all for the Baron to be so concerned with the status of your relationship, and yet there he had been, smiling as if he had bested you. Did he know something that you didn’t? It would be dangerous to voice the thoughts that you were having- unwise. Feyd was sure to take his uncle’s side on everything. At the end of the day you were little more than a warm, wet hole to breed. . . right? 

Your skin crawled, your breathing growing more and more shallow as the seconds passed. What would your mother do if she was put in a situation like this? The urge to talk to her was stifling, and yet you were here alone. You had no allies here. You had been left to your own devices. 

“You aren’t going to beg me to train with you today?” Feyd asked from the open door of the bathroom. 

He’d left it wide open while he changed, as if he was daring you to gawk and stare. You were too busy panicking to even care that he could very well be naked mere feet away from where you sat on the bed. The Baron was guilty of something, that you knew with certainty. You bit down onto your lower lip, staring blankly ahead at the wall as you became more and more consumed by your frightening thoughts. 

“What are you thinking about, little one?” His voice was right beside your ear and you jumped back, staring wide eyed at where he was kneeling before you. 

He stared up at you expectantly, waiting for you to tell him what currently had you so quiet. His uncle had been unusual at breakfast, more so than Feyd was used to. The Baron was a busy man, and the last thing on his agenda was to eat with his nephew and his bride-to-be. He was cautious, and yet he didn’t want you to know. He would handle your safety from now on, even if that meant going against those that shared the very blood that pumped through his own veins. 

The expression on your face had him leaning closer. You were so meek. . . so fearful. The need to protect you was overwhelming. How could someone ever want to hurt you? His eyes flickered over your bruises for the one hundredth time that afternoon, rage settling like lead in the pit of his stomach. 

“I’m thinking. . .” You started, eyes becoming glassy. “That I was sent here to die.” 

Feyd, for the first time in his life, felt helpless. He did not know how to calm you down. The man didn’t know the first thing about comforting someone, but the thought of leaving you to your own devices and panic had a gasp escaping his throat. 

“Do you not believe me when I say that I will protect you? Have I not proved myself?” Actions spoke louder than words, or at least Feyd had always believed that, and yet you didn’t seem to understand what he was trying to say. His actions weren’t enough. 

“You’re protecting me because you have to. I understand that well enough, but that doesn’t mean that something won’t happen. You are the enemy Feyd. My enemy.” You spoke with so much conviction and looked at him like you hadn’t just gutted him. 

Feyd felt as though you had physically slapped him across the face. The chase was fun, but this. . . this wasn’t you acting hard to get. This was you drawing a very clear line in the sand. You didn’t like him and perhaps never would. And maybe it made Feyd even more despicable than anyone ever thought possible, but part of him did not care. You could fight it all you wanted, it did not negate the fact that you belonged to him. It did not negate the fact that he cared for you. . .

Cared so deeply that it had him questioning whether or not he had ever really known joy or a true sense of belonging before now. 

“I am not them.” He rasped out, knowing that you’d understand exactly who he was implying. 

He was not like the others. He never had been. He had a penchant for cruelty and a talent for killing, but he would never hurt you for sport. He knew of Harkonnen men that battered their women simply because they could, but the mere idea of putting his hands on you made him want to sink his blade into his own chest and twist. How could he ever explain that to you? Put his emotions into words when you knew so little about him? How could he tell you that he’d been dreaming of you since he was a child? Vivid, prophetic dreams that left him lonely and impatient. 

“But you are.” There was a strange glint in his eyes that had your words leaving you in a breathy whisper. You were being vulnerable with him. Showing him your worst fears and letting him know that you currently had no more aces up your sleeves. The Voice was useless to you right now, and no matter how skilled you were in combat, it would mean nothing if you were up against an entire planet of people that wished you dead and silenced. You had kept the fear bottled in for three days now, and you had no one to confide in. 

You would regret this, you knew it with a surety that nearly had you choking on a sob. This information could be used against you. He’d make sure that you met your end the second that you birthed him an heir. . . 

So why did he look offended by your words? 

His plush lips parted, blue eyes widening for a second as he fully comprehended what you had just uttered to him. Having you as his would be sweet, yes, but it paled in comparison to the idea that you would eventually care for him in the same way that he did for you. It lit a fire inside of him, and he didn’t understand how to make you see. 

Feyd needed you to open your eyes and understand that he was not your enemy. He was the only person on all of Giedi Prime that was absolutely, without any question or doubt, on your side. He would burn the entire planet to ash if he had to. He’d serve his uncle’s heart on a silver platter and let you eat your fill if it meant that you would come to understand his level of utter devotion. 

You blinked and suddenly you were on your back, a small grunt escaping you as his calloused palm pushed against your chest, too fast for you to even register. He was on top of you, straddling your hips. The weight of him on top of you had your teeth clenching, your traitorous body reacting in a way that sickened you. Civilizations had worshiped at the feet of long forgotten Gods that weren’t half as beautiful and cruel as Feyd-Rautha. 

“You are my wife-” He started to speak, but you were quick to interrupt him, refusing to back down. 

“Not yet.” You seethed. 

Feyd couldn’t help but want to fight you on that, to challenge the unnecessary bite in your tone. If you were so hellbent on treating him like an enemy then so be it. He’d push you to a breaking point. He’d make you love and trust him. He’d show your true enemies such cruelty that you’d have no reason to doubt his convictions. 

And before he could reign in his emotions, before he could feel any guilt, he was lurching forward. Long fingers tangled themselves into your hair as his lips pressed against yours. Unyielding, he dominated your mouth, teeth sinking into your lower lip. He needed to taste you- your mouth, your blood. 

Sweat, tears, slick. He wanted all of it on his tongue. 

The years spent waiting and biding his time had been worse than he realized, for the second his lips pressed against yours he found it hard to stop himself. The need that coursed through him now was more powerful than anything else he had ever experienced. You yelped against his mouth in pain, trying your hardest to flinch back at the sharp pain in your lip. The mattress and his unyielding grip on you kept you from moving even an inch. He took advantage of that small sound, his tongue lapping at the roof of your mouth lazily, the salty iron of your own blood invading your senses. 

And he was everywhere. His weight was on top of you, his arms on either side of your head, his fingers buried in your hair- and you couldn’t get away. You tried bucking him off, hands grabbing at his training shirt so that you could try and pry him off of you. The muscles in your arms strained as you pulled, thighs quivering as you tried your damndest to flip him over onto the bed. You would not kiss him back. 

No matter how badly your instincts were telling you to give in. That voice in the back of your head was loud, but the sound of your own pounding heart in your ears drowned it out. Your body burned as he slid his hips down slightly, changing his angle so that he could grind himself against you. The friction sent a jolt of what felt like lightning shooting up your spine. It took all of your self restraint not to moan into his mouth, which would no doubt motivate him to push this even further. 

You felt him. All of him, even through all the layers of clothing that separated the two of you. He was hard, to what must have been a point of physical pain, over a mere kiss. His lips were unexpectedly soft on yours, far softer than the very few men that you had kissed in the past. They moved languidly against yours, and you wanted to be disgusted by the fact that he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. 

You hated the part of you that craved this. You could deny it all that you wanted, but the dull ache between your traitorous legs told you what your mind could not: a sick part of you wanted this. Maybe it was the very same part of you that had wanted those guards dead. 

You should hate him. You wanted to hate him. You needed to hate him. 

And then his hands were sliding down the back of your neck, his lips sliding down the base of your throat- 

“Stop! Feyd, stop!” You finally found your voice, sucking in a breath of air. You felt dizzy, and yet your body was more alive than it ever had been. 

Traitor. You were a traitor to your family. 

He sat up then, eyes glazed over, his thick lashes casting shadows on the tops of his cheeks in the dim lighting. 

“Do you hate me?” He panted out, voice thick with an emotion that you couldn’t quite place. It was as if he could read your mind. 

“Yes.” You lied. This lie was even harder to swallow than your last for whatever reason. Maybe it was the heady look in your eyes or your swollen, well kissed lips. . . but Feyd knew you weren’t telling the truth.

“I’ll fuck you until you want me,” And his harsh, horrible words didn’t quite match the tender way he cupped your cheek. “And then you’ll want me so badly that you’ll love me.” 

He got off of you then, forcing himself away from you before he made a mistake. Today was not the day to claim you, not with the previous night so fresh on your mind. He would figure out a way to apologize for his loss of control later. For now he needed a change of scenery, preferably one that didn’t have a bed. . . or a couch. . . or a table. . . or a counter- 

“Pig,” You spat in his direction, quickly fumbling to straighten out your now wrinkled clothing. 

“Your training clothes are in our closet. Put them on.” He was still breathing heavily, pacing around the room with his hands on his hips. His cock was straining against the confines of his pants, begging him to turn around and finish what he started- make good on the promise he just made to you. 

“Are you crazy?” You screamed at him, lurching up from the bed as though you were going to attack him. 

Slowly he turned to face you, his features twisting into something that looked a tad bit like forlorn yearning. 

“Yes,” And he nodded, not denying the fact. “Yes I am.” 

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[ja3yun]

The Doll House | Sim Jaeyun

doll!jake x fem!reader warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), subby!jake, oral (m. rec), creampie, slight throat fucking, whimpering and whining, pet names (baby doll, pup), begging, anything else lmk! wc: 7.7k synopsis: it's your first week at your new job and you make a shocking revelation that puts your world in a spin and lets you experience something you never knew was possible masterlist | sunghoon a/n: hi! this is the first part of a 4-part series! again, i need to thank the requester for this because i am having so much fun writing it <3 the plot and everything will be gradually laced within each chapter so, while they can stand alone, it's best to read them all. thank you for everything and as always, likes, reblogs, feeback is all welcome!

p.s, please read the intro it sets up the whole story so you guys know how y/n got there and who soonyeol is.

You've been inside this home for exactly 42 hours and 51 minutes and surprisingly nothing significant has happened.

The silence surrounding the mansion is unexpectedly comforting, providing a much-needed respite from the hectic city life you've despised. The constant noise - whether it's the cries of babies, the grumbles of angry men, or the blasting car horns powered by thoughtless road rage - has progressively worn on your tolerance. No one talks about how exhausting it all is.

Maybe this is why people go on holiday, you wonder. Even though you're here for work, there's a sense of relaxation in the air that leaves you feeling peaceful. 

Before Soonyeol went on her ominous business trip, she left you a binder full of strict instructions on how to mind her house. It’s packed to the brim with dos and don'ts such as; cooking exactly 4 meals for the dolls at 5.30pm, placing them around the dining table, and never entering their rooms unless transporting them to their recreational activities. 

Each doll had their own rigorous routine, with some reading, some playing the guitar, and so on. Soonyeol made it clear that sticking to these routines is a must, which included the difficult chore of physically changing the towering dolls in the morning and before bed. They weren’t exactly hollow or porcelain, they were super realistic, their skin had some form of heat to it, and they had some weight to them but not as heavy as they first appeared. You had asked Soonyeol what they were made of but she brushed your question off, leaving you even more curious, the only conclusion you could come up with was sandbags or clay.

Currently, you are in the kitchen, cooking up a meal that none of them will touch. Of course, you didn’t expect them to chow down on your homemade lasagna considering they couldn’t even move their mouths, but seeing everything laid out and untouched after you give them exactly 35 minutes to eat (a rule in that godforsaken binder), it fills you with a sense of unease.

Within the mansion's walls, time seems to grind to a halt unless you make it move, you as the sole animate presence amidst the silence. 

You bring the plated food into the dining room, placing a dish in front of each doll. Despite the absurdity of the situation, you play along dutifully, conscious of Mia's warning that the dolls may be rigged with hidden cameras. To be fair, their eyes do seem to follow you, or perhaps that was just your imagination.

“This is such a waste of food,” you scoff, placing the last plate down to the doll with freckles on his face who is labelled in the binder as Sunghoon. You can’t help but think about all the food that is being wasted when there are people still relying on food banks, it makes you bubble with anger, yet, you’re the one doing it. You could easily just not feed them and just pretend to Soonyeol you did, but again, the eyes that surround the castle could be the difference between you keeping this job and going back home with nothing.

Soonyeol could easily fire you if it got back to her you starved her precious babies while she was gone, and that £5,000 is enough money to get you by while you look for another job, so you’ll do as you’re told for now.

With a resigned sigh, you wipe your hands on your apron and offer a forced smile to the lifeless dolls, "Enjoy," you mutter sarcastically, before turning on your heel and retreating from the room, leaving them to their silent feast.

“Thank you!” 

The words catch you off guard, freezing you mid-step. Did you actually just hear that? Slowly, you spin on your heel, astonishment written over your face. There they sit, precisely as you left them, their expressions the same as before. Yet, undoubtedly, the voice came from their direction.

Narrowing your eyes in suspicion, you examine them closely, your fingers poking Sunghoon’s shoulder to try and elicit any response, but one never comes. 

You could have sworn you heard a voice, a soft accent drifting into your ears. It’s not like it could have been the TV or radio, Soonyeol was lacking in the entertainment department, opting for more classic ways to entertain herself like board games and books.

"This place is making me lose my mind," you scoff, disbelief mingling with a nervous laugh. You are officially losing the plot, thinking the dolls can suddenly speak. What’s next, they’ll suddenly get up and help you with the dishes?

Maybe you just need to go for a walk around the mansion, touch some grass or whatever. Your mind needs some nature to set itself straight. With a final incredulous glance at the dolls, you shake your head, dismissing your fanciful worries. 

Stepping into the garden, you're greeted by the warmth of the summer sun kissing your skin. The sprawling lawn stretches for acres, overgrown yet hinting at hidden beauty beneath the tangled vines and moss-covered statues.

The pathway is clear, giving you a chance to wander further into the field. With some TLC and a green thumb, you ponder whether you could turn this landscape into a true garden, it’s not like there is much else to do, but would Soonyeol be okay with that? Everything else in this house is seemingly stuck in a different century; the large gold-framed portraits, the scatter of porcelain dolls that look like something straight from a horror movie, and the furnishings scream Renaissance. Maybe she prefers it that way.

You are perplexed by the mystery surrounding Soonyeol and her isolated living. A lack of information about her and this home has you grasping at straws. The mansion has no internet or even a good phone service which raises your suspicions about her more. There is only a landline phone that is set to make local calls. All you've learned from this information is why she resorted to placing a job advertisement in the newspaper.

Questions swirl in your mind. Why choose such isolation? Living alone, devoid of company or modern comforts, seems unimaginable. Two months might be tolerable, but for someone to endure years in solitude, it's perplexing. But then again, who are you to judge? She might prefer her own company and God knows there must be a lot less drama.

Lost in thought, you reach out to touch a thorn from a withered rosebush, only to recoil in pain as it pricks your index finger, "Shit!" you shout, instinctively sucking on the wound as blood wells up. Why you felt driven to touch such an obviously dangerous plant escapes you completely.

Sulking back inside the house, you walk directly to the kitchen, the sight of familiar surroundings provides some consolation as you go towards the sink, your injured finger throbbing with each step. Who knew a thorn could cause so much damage?

You reach for the basin and turn on the cold tap, hoping for a little relief. As chilled water falls over your wound, you sigh with relief, the coolness relieving the pain immensely, with a sudden sensation of peace flowing over you. 

The clock's chime breaks through the quiet, jolting you back into reality. It's 6pm so it's time to tend to the dolls again. You reach to get a plaster from the first aid kit, only to find it empty except for a single bandage and some foil blankets. Panic sets in as you examine the seriousness of your bleeding finger; it’s a neverending flow of crimson which only makes you pout, sucking on it once again.

Desperately searching the kitchen cupboards, you find bits of kitchen roll and sellotape. It's not ideal, but you have no other choice. You gently wrap the kitchen roll around your wound, securing it with sticky tape. The improvised dressing will have to suffice; the thought of spilling your blood on Soonyeol's cherished dolls sends chills down your spine. You don't want to think about what she would do.

Stepping into the dining room, you're greeted by the familiar sight: cold food arranged neatly before the four unyielding dolls. Their impassive stares seem to pierce through you, sending a chill down your spine.

With a theatrical pout and arms crossed, you address the silent company, "Didn't quite hit the mark with my culinary masterpiece, huh?" you jest, met only with the silence of inanimate figures. Chuckling to yourself, you gather the untouched plates onto the cart, contemplating a pragmatic solution, "Well, I suppose I could just freeze these and give them to you tomorrow," you quip. Soonyeol said to feed them, she didn’t say it couldn't be the same meal over and over again.

After clearing up the dining hall and putting the meals in the freezer, you make your way to retrieve the rusty wheelchair you are convinced will give you tetanus from the hallway closet. It’s the easiest way to transport the boys from A to B, and you daren’t carry them anywhere in case you drop and smash them. 

As you unfold the chair, a creak reverberates from behind you, causing your muscles to tense involuntarily. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as a chill courses through your veins. While the old house has its usual symphony of creaks and groans, this sound feels different, more sinister, as if someone - or something - is lurking in the shadows.

“Hello?” you say whispering yet not daring to look behind you. If you have learned anything from the multitude of horror movies you’ve watched over the tears, it’s that as soon as you look back, all shit breaks loose.

You stand there with your heart pounding in your chest and you scold yourself inwardly for succumbing to irrational fear, "Come on, Y/N, pull yourself together," you mutter, attempting to rally your nerves. But the silence that follows your whispered reassurance only amplifies the unease settling in the pit of your stomach.

With a resigned sigh, you steel yourself for whatever may lie behind you, “Fuck, Y/N, just turn around. If you’re going to die, you might as well get it over with,” you chide yourself, voice tinged with frustration.

Thinking it’s best to just face whatever your demise is, you swiftly turn around, half-expecting to come face-to-face with some unseen terror. Yet, all that greets you is the empty hallway, bathed in the dim glow of the flickering lights. There's no sign of an intruder, no lurking threat—just the same mundane surroundings you've grown accustomed to.

You never thought you’d think this, but you’re happy to see the tiny collector dolls that line the hallway.

A mixture of relief and embarrassment floods over you as you realize the absurdity of your fears. "God, I'm losing it," you mutter, a manic laugh bubbling up from deep within. With a self-deprecating shake of your head, you lightly slap your forehead with the base of your palm, chastising yourself for letting your imagination run wild.

First, the talking dolls, now this unfounded paranoia—it's becoming increasingly clear that the isolation of this mansion is taking its toll on your sanity. 

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you shake off the lingering unease and embarrassment to focus on your duties. 

With a determined stride, you make your way back to the dining room, the memory of your brief bout of hysteria fading into the recesses of your mind. You push the wheelchair over to the table to retrieve one of the dolls, however, a glint of blue catches your eye.

A plaster - suddenly, inexplicably there, resting in front of the doll named Jongseong.

Your brow furrows in confusion, disbelief coursing through you. "How... was that there the whole time?" you mutter, disbelief colouring your tone as you glance between your injured finger and the God-sent plaster.

With a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, you reach out to pick up the plaster, examining it closely as if searching for any sign of trickery. But it appears to be nothing more than an ordinary adhesive plaster.

"Okay, this is getting ridiculous," you mutter to yourself, unable to suppress a nervous chuckle. The rational part of your mind insists there must be a logical explanation for the plaster's sudden appearance, but logic seems to have taken a backseat in this peculiar mansion. 

Surely you would have noticed it on the table when you were serving the food…right?

Deciding to set aside your questions for the moment, you carefully retrieve the plaster and apply it to your injured finger, the soothing sensation providing a small measure of comfort.

As you finish tending to your wound, you cast a wary glance at the dolls, half-expecting them to spring to life and offer an explanation. But they remain as silent and motionless as ever, their enigmatic presence only adding to the mystery of this place.

With a resigned sigh, you focus once again on getting the dolls to their rooms. Maybe if they’re out of your sight, you’ll stop conjuring up these ridiculous notions that are swirling in your mind.

“C’mon Jaeyun, let’s get you to bed,” you say softly as you pick him up with a strong heave. The weight of him in your arms is a humbling realisation that you need to start going to the gym more because lifting a doll shouldn’t be this taxing.

Plonking him onto the wheelchair, you begin to make your way to his room. The corridors grow longer each time you make the journey to their respective bedrooms and with the house being the size that it is, transporting them is the equivalent of taking a quick nip to your big Tesco and back.

Finally reaching Jaeyun's room, you turn the ornate handle and push the wheelchair inside. The room is bathed in a soft, amber glow, casting a warm hue over the plush furnishings and intricate decor. With careful precision, you guide Jaeyun onto the bed, taking a moment to study his features up close.

The doll's face, once unsettling in its hyper-realistic detail, now holds a curious fascination. Despite the initial unease you felt in their presence, you can't help but admire the craftsmanship that went into their creation.

Jaeyun's eyes, a rich shade of brown, hold a mesmerising depth that seems to draw you in and they glimmer with an almost golden hue when touched by sunlight, adding a touch of ethereal beauty to his already captivating features. His lips, full and luscious and they evoke sense of envy into you, marvelling at their perfection. His nose, a graceful arc that sits harmoniously amidst his features, only adds to the beauty.

With gentle admiration, you touch his bottom lip with your thumb, amazed at its softness. If Jaeyun were a living, breathing being, you can't help but imagine how irresistible those lips would be, how you would find any excuse to steal a kiss. The feel of his lip beneath your thumb is uncannily real, its texture mirroring your own, and as you release it, it springs back into place as if alive.

Your eyes dart over his face, drinking him in as you fix his long, dark hair, “You’re so beautiful,” you whisper, the words leave your lips almost unintentionally, spoken in peaceful tones as if frightened to disrupt the calm tranquillity of the moment. 

“Thank you.”

Your entire body goes rigid as you hear the same words from the dining table, mirroring the exact accent you had heard before. The hand that had been gently brushing aside the stray strand of hair now drops to your side, your eyes fixed on Jaeyun's mouth as it forms into a bright smile.

As if gasping for air, you stare at him in disbelief, pointing a trembling finger in his direction. "Y-you just spoke!" you manage to exclaim, your words choked with bated breaths. Panic threatens to engulf you as you try to understsnd what is happening.

Your mind races, grasping for something, anything to hold onto as the world spins around you but there's nothing, and your body betrays you, collapsing to the ground in a desperate attempt to escape the surreal nightmare unfolding before you.

With wide, terrified eyes, you watch as Jaeyun moves slightly, preparing yourself for the inevitable scream that threatens to tear from your throat. But before you can utter a sound, he rushes towards you with a look of panic etched on his features.

Jaeyun's eyes are filled with concern as he gazes down at you, his hand covering your mouth to stifle any outcry. With a gentle yet urgent expression, he leans in closer, his lips forming almost silent words as he implores you to remain quiet, “Please. Shhh, I’m sorry!” he says with urgency, trying to stop you from bellowing out and causing alarm.

Your chest rises and falls with the rapid beat of your heart, your head suddenly feels faint and conflicting emotions wash over you. Fear, confusion, disbelief - all vie for dominance as you struggle to make sense of the impossible situation unfolding before you.

With wide, frightened eyes, you stare up at Jaeyun, searching his face for any sign of explanation or reassurance. But all you find is the same look of concern mirrored in his gaze, a silent plea for understanding.

“I promise, I’m not going to hurt you,” he utters, his body now relaxing as he feels your mouth close under his palm, “If I take my hand away, please don’t scream, okay?” 

His words are filled with panic, a frantic attempt to prevent more concern. When you look into his eyes, you can sense the sincerity in his plea, a glimpse of humanity you didn't think was possible.

For a moment, the world seems to stand still, the air thick with tension and uncertainty on both of your parts. But then, with a shaky breath, you nod in silent acquiescence, willing yourself to trust the doll before you. 

Jaeyun’s hand slowly withdraws from your mouth but is still armed in case you fall through on your promise to stay quiet. Once he's satisfied that you won't scream, Jaeyun rises to his feet, offering you a shaky hand. You accept, noting the slight tremor in his grip, evidence that he's just as affected by this inexplicable turn of events as you are.

Standing before him, you can't shake the feeling of disbelief that washes over you. None of this makes sense - talking dolls, moving on their own accord - it's all so implausible, so surreal. And yet, here you are, faced with the undeniable reality of Jaeyun's existence.

"What are you?" you ask tentatively, withdrawing your hand from his as you study him intently, searching for any clues to unravel the mystery.

Jaeyun tilts his head in confusion, his expression mirroring your own bewilderment. "I'm a doll, you know that," he replies matter-of-factly.

"Yes, but how are you moving? How are you speaking? Are you possessed? Alive? Am I dreaming this?" you barrage him with questions, your mind racing with a million possibilities, each more absurd than the last.

“I’m Sim Jaeyun, manufactured in 2002,” Jaeyun says as though it’s so obvious, which to his defence, it is - the stamp on his back that you’ve caught sight of while changing him is proof, "I'm the model made for Australia. G'day mate!" he adds, attempting to inject some levity into the conversation with an exaggerated Australian accent. But his efforts fall flat in the face of your mounting terror and confusion.

"I don't understand," you whisper, your voice trembling with uncertainty, "How is this possible?"

Jaeyun's expression softens, sympathy flickering in his eyes as he meets your gaze, "I wish I had all the answers," he admits, his voice gentle yet tinged with resignation, "But the truth is, even I don't fully understand what's happening to me. I ended up here one day. The others just tell me not to ask questions.”

As Jaeyun's words sink in, a surge of disbelief sweeps over you, threatening to overwhelm you in a sea of bewilderment and despair, "Others? You mean..."

"My brothers, the ones you've been looking after for Soonyeol," Jaeyun says, his voice calm.

The realisation hits you like a tonne of bricks: all four dolls, like Jaeyun, are somehow alive. You've spent the last two days living under the same roof as these living dolls, entirely oblivious of their true selves. The idea of it sends shivers down your spine, and a dreadful feeling rises in the pit of your stomach.

Every creak in the floorboards, every echo in the halls - you had chalked them up to the ageing mansion itself. But now, you realise that they were caused by these living dolls moving about, silently watching and listening to your every move.

You contemplate the idea that you're going insane because the stress and isolation of the mansion have finally taken their toll on your sanity. But deep down, you know that this is far too real to be a figment of your imagination.

Sensing your distress, Jaeyun guides you to sit beside him on the bed, his touch gentle yet strangely disconcerting. A doll is offering you comfort while your mind is in a whirlwind of emotions that threaten to overwhelm you. In what world is any of this normal?

His thumb strokes the back of your hand as you sit in silence. A small smile creeps on his face and a blush somehow paints itself on the apples of his cheeks as he remembers your earlier comments.

“You think I’m beautiful?” he asks gently, drawing you back into reality from the maze of your mind.

“What?”

"You said I was beautiful," he repeats, his tone gentle yet earnest, his eyes filled with a quiet joy. Jaeyun's smile widens slightly, his body shifting to fully face you.

As you finally meet his gaze, the weight of his words settles upon you, and you see just how much your earlier compliment meant to him. The twinkle in his eye reflects a depth of emotion that mirrors that of a human, his happiness evident in the way his features soften and his eyes light up with warmth. If he was beautiful before, he is otherworldly now.

“Yeah…you are,” you confess, now reciprocating his blush.

Jaeyun's hand gently cups your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine and you can't help but feel something blossom within you. His palm, slightly cool against your flushed skin, serves as a reminder of the surreal reality in which you find yourself.

Jaeyun's lips suddenly meet yours, enveloping you with his gentle kiss. Touching his lips earlier paled in comparison to the sensation of his soft, plump mouth moving against yours, and it sends a shiver of pleasure coursing through your veins; for a fleeting moment, you allow yourself to be swept away by the intensity of the moment.

But as reality crashes back down upon you, the weight of what you're doing comes crashing down.

This is a doll, not a real person.

You push Jaeyun away and your mind suddenly clears, “What are you doing, Jaeyun?” you ask both perplexed by his actions and a little disgruntled by yours.

His wide eyes only serve to make you feel guilty, there’s a tinge of hurt in them along with confusion. His hand removes itself from your face, leaving your cheek cold and craving his touch again.

"Soonyeol says I should kiss when I want to show my appreciation," Jaeyun explains, his voice tinged with confusion and a defeated tone that tugs at your heartstrings. It's clear that he's not accustomed to being rejected like this, his owner obviously giving him what he wants.

Now that you think about it, Soonyeol must know they’re real, meaning she has relationships with these dolls. Granted, you figured that out when you were undressing them and saw they are anatomically correct, but now this is a whole new layer. She has formed connections with them that go beyond using the dolls for her pleasure. 

"Isn't it cheating?" you ask, locking eyes with Jaeyun, ignoring your swift realisation of the risk. Those beautiful brown eyes seem to draw you in, inviting you to forget all reason and succumb to the burning need between you.

He shakes his head slowly, a tinge of hesitation in his eyes as he chews his lip, "No. Soonyeol shares us, which means I can be shared. It's how it works," he says, his words laced with desperation as he tries to defend his actions. He knows Soonyeol won’t see it that way, but he needs you for his own selfish pleasure; he can’t wait two months until his minder comes back.

However, the rational half of your mind perks up one last time, refusing to be influenced by Jaeyun's words, forcing you to express the painfully evident reality that lies between you, "You're a doll, Jaeyun," you say, the words thick with reality.

However, as if feeling your wavering resolve, Jaeyun's demeanour changes, his puppy-like appearance giving way to one of mischief and longing. With a sudden boldness, he comes in closer, your noses touching as your breath hits his lips.

"I'm a doll with everything you need," he says seductively, sending shivers down your spine as his luscious lips brush against yours with each syllable. 

Your heart races as Jaeyun's proximity overwhelms your senses. Despite the nagging voice of reason in the back of your mind, you find yourself unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence.

As Jaeyun leans in for another kiss, his persistence and gentle touch send a rush of heat coursing through your body. You find yourself melting into his embrace once more, unable to resist his lips on yours. His smile against your mouth fills you with something beautiful.

His hand finds your cheek, his touch tender yet possessive as he deepens the kiss, sending your senses reeling. The surreal sensation of his tongue, colder than any other person's you’ve had the pleasure to kiss, intertwining with yours only adds to the intensity of the moment.

But as the kiss grows more passionate, you feel Jaeyun's hands begin to roam, his touch becoming more urgent and insistent. The way he impatiently tugs at the hem of your t-shirt and his hips practically humping the air through desperation, heightens your own arousal.

You draw back, taking your shirt off, giving him what he wants. Jaeyun's eyes light up in delight at the sight before him, his gaze raking over your exposed skin with hunger. Without hesitation, his hand instinctively reaches out to touch you, his fingers grazing over the fabric of your bra as he seeks to explore every inch of your body.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, as he stares up at you. You understand why he’s so used to getting his way, that face of his could start wars if he asked. 

With a soft smile, your fingers continuing to thread through his hair with a gentle touch, "Nothing in comparison to you," you confess, your words spoken with genuine admiration.

Jaeyun's response is a soft whimper, his body trembling slightly under your touch as he leans into your caress. It's clear that he thrives on the affection and validation you offer him, cherishing every compliment and sweet gesture. He isn’t going to take control of this situation, he wants you to lead him, to make him feel like he is yours.

And he looks so fuckable right now.

Feeling emboldened by the rush of desire coursing through your veins, you seize the opportunity to take control of the situation. With a newfound confidence, you gently push Jaeyun back onto the bed, straddling him as you hover above.

His eyes widen in surprise, a mix of anticipation and excitement flickering in their depths as he watches you with rapt attention. With a playful glint in your eyes, you lean down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your hands trailing down his chest and exploring every contour of his body.

Jaeyun responds eagerly, his hands roaming over your back as he returns your kiss with equal fervour. But as the heat between you intensifies, you can sense his longing for more, his desire for you palpable in every touch and caress.

You plaster on a mischievous smile and lean back slightly, teasingly tracing your fingers along the waistband of his pants. He hitches in anticipation, his eyes darkening with desire as he silently urges you to continue.

With deliberate slowness, you begin to unbutton his pants, savouring the feeling of power that courses through you with each movement. As the fabric falls away, you're met with the sight of his cock outline, his arousal evident in the way he strains against the confines of his underwear.

You lean down to press your lips against his neck, trailing soft kisses along his jawline as you whisper in his ear, "Do you want me to look after you, baby doll?"

He mewls out and nods quickly, knowing that is the only thing he needs right now. Your touch is different to Soonyeol’s, yours is filled with a new fire that you’re discovering, while Soonyeol’s is experienced and knows of Jaeyun’s wants and needs. He can’t deny that he feels even more alive than before right now.

Trailing one finger over his clothed cock, you apply pressure as you reach his tip, causing him to whine out. You aren’t typically in charge in the bedroom but you can’t deny how easy it is when Jaeyun is underneath you, silently begging for you to claim him.

You pull down his boxers, seeing his cock in a new light. Honestly, you tried not to stare at it too long when you changed him but you knew whatever Soonyeol had ordered, she ordered it with herself in mind. He was average-sized but curved to the right, meaning he could hit places some others couldn’t; even the thought made your mouth water.

There’s a desire to know how his cock is standing to attention considering there isn’t any blood in his body, but this whole situation defies logic so what’s one more question to add to the pile? All you can really think about is how good having him inside you will feel.

Grabbing his length, you begin to pump him gently, still trying to navigate how fragile he is and how far you can take this. He isn’t made of glass but you still need to be careful. 

His reaction is immediate, his jaw slackening as you pick up the pace, your movements becoming more assured. Jaeyun’s legs kick slightly as his body involuntarily moves under your touch, desperate for more than you’re offering him.

Sensing his need, you lean in and give his cock a teasing lick before spitting on it, slickening the surface to make your motions even smoother. His breath hitches at the sensation, a low groan escaping his lips as he arches into your touch, craving more of the pleasure you're giving him.

With a hunger that matches his own, you release him from your grip and lean down, taking him into your mouth with a slow, deliberate motion. His gasp fills the air as you envelop him, the wet heat of your mouth sending shivers down his spine.

"Y/N..." Jaeyun's voice is barely a whisper, filled with a mix of disbelief and pleasure.

You glance up at him, meeting his gaze with a smouldering intensity before returning your focus to the task at hand. With practiced skill, you move your lips and tongue in tandem, exploring every inch of him with a fervour that leaves him trembling. 

There is an urge to look after him, with each whine and whimper he screeches out in response to your tongue flicking over his tip, you want to cherish him as your own. You carefully watch his face to make sure he is enjoying himself which clearly he is, his eyes screwed shut and chest heaving despite the lack of air.

Pushing his length further into your mouth, you feel the tip of him hit the back of your throat, piercing your tonsils as they involuntarily try to swallow around him. You switch between bobbing your mouth and enveloping his whole cock down your throat, staying there for a moment as you nuzzle your nose against his lower abdomen.

His fingers thread through your hair, a silent plea for more as you continue to lavish attention on him, each suck and swirl of your tongue pushing him closer to the edge of ecstasy.

"Oh god, Y/N," he groans, his voice thick with need. "I-I can't... I'm gonna..."

Can he cum? Like physically, is your mouth about to be filled with doll cum? You’re going to find out eventually.

But who says he can get everything he wants just at the bat of an eyelid?

You pull back slightly, your lips glistening with saliva as you gaze up at him with a wicked grin. "Not yet," you tease, your voice husky from the beating your throat has just taken, "I want to hear you beg for it.”

His eyes widen with anticipation, a need burning in their depths as he watches you, “But Soonyeol always lets me cum,” he pouts, the edges of his mouth drooping down.

“I’m not Soonyeol though, am I?” you retort, your hand stroking him again, “I can stop completely if you want?” 

Jaeyun doesn’t like that idea, shaking his head manically and chanting ‘no’ as he looks at you with pleading eyes. His minder is kind, always giving him the pleasure he needs when he wants it, so this is new to him, yet, he can’t help but find some pleasure in the prolonging of his orgasm.

“Come on, baby doll, beg for it,” you murmur against his tip, looking up at him through hooded eyes as you tease the tip of his cock.

His breath catches in his throat at your words, his mind a haze of desire as he struggles to find his voice, "Please, Y/N," he gasps, his voice thick with need, "Please let me cum. I need it, I need you so bad."

The desperation in his voice and his tiny weeps send a shiver down your spine, and with a satisfied smirk, you relent, taking him fully into your mouth again. 

You aren’t like this in bed but he just manages to bring out this side of you and you can’t complain about it. 

As Jaeyun's fingers tangle in your hair, a shiver of anticipation courses through you, heightened by the primal instinct driving his actions. You feel the tension building in his body, his movements becoming more urgent as he approaches the brink of release.

With a final tug at your roots, he tightens, his balls drawing up as he releases into your mouth with a guttural groan of pleasure. His hips buck uncontrollably, driving himself deeper into your throat as he rides the waves of ecstasy coursing through him.

You surrender to the moment, allowing him to take control as he thrusts into your mouth, his movements are rough yet achingly intimate. Each sensation sends sparks of pleasure racing through you, mingling with the taste of him on your tongue as he spurts his essence. It’s not exactly cum, it doesn’t taste like it, but it’s filling your mouth up, some of it dripping out onto the bed below you.

And as he finally reaches the peak of his pleasure, his body trembling with the force of his release, you swallow him down, accepting him completely. You lap up the last few drops before giving a gentle kiss on his bell, smiling slightly as you relish in your work.

Jaeyun’s face exhibits one of pure bliss, his grin wide and his eyes closed. He looks so ethereal right now, your only wish is to cater to him. Soonyeol must have her hands full if she does this with all of them, no wonder she would need two months off.

Sitting up, his hands pull at your jeans, unbuttoning them with determination but you stop him, “Jaeyun, what are you doing?” you ask.

“I’m going to fuck you, is that not okay?” Jaeyun’s eyes have that spark in them just like before but more intense, like he’s bursting to the brim with happiness.

You can see the determination in Jaeyun's eyes, the fire of desire burning bright despite the recent climax. His eagerness to please you matches your own desire to cater to him, but you can't help but feel a twinge of apprehension.

"Are you not tired, Jaeyun?" you reply gently, placing a hand on his cheek to capture his attention, “I don't want to push you too far."

Jaeyun's expression softens at your words, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering sincerity, “I’m a doll, Y/N, I don’t get tired.”

Damn, maybe you should invest in one of these unalive-alive dolls with the £5,000 you’ll get from this job.

He sees your astonishment and laughs softly, his teeth on full display, “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re confused, Y/N,” his voice is back down to a whisper, his hand enclosing yours on his cheek as he nuzzles into it. Jaeyun knows how to use his charm to get what he wants but it’s significantly easier when the person he is trying to persuade wants it just as much as he does.

You find yourself nodding in agreement, unable to resist his enticement. With a shared understanding, you move in to capture his lips in yours, sealing the moment with a delicate kiss.

His hands go back to work, pulling at your jeans to take them off of your hot body. You help him out, pulling away from his mouth to undress yourself, leaving you both naked and wanting nothing more than to be entangled in one another.

“Wow,” he utters as his eyes trail your body from head to toe. His owner is beautiful but you have something about you that is sucking him in, the curve of your hips and the stretch marks on your thighs; you’re a vision he never wants to forget.

You turn scarlet as you see him staring at you, suddenly feeling less confident than before. But he quickly eases your mind as he licks his lips and pulls you into his lap, placing you to sit right on his cock, “I think you were wrong earlier,” he mutters into your shoulder as he places kisses along your chest.

“What do you mean?” Confusion lingers in your mind as you process his words, your fingers instinctively tangling in his hair as you look down at him with a mixture of surprise and affection.

“When you said you weren’t as beautiful compared to me. I think you’re so wrong,” he admits in a hushed tone, hands roaming along your waist and down to your thighs, feeling every inch of you.

Leaning down, you kiss him again except this time, you grind your hips, letting his cock slide between your folds and his tip brush against your clit teasingly. The action makes you both groan out in lust, wanting nothing more than to be tangled in one another. 

Jaeyun lightly slaps your ass to signal you to hover slightly, ready to dive into you. He hasn’t had sex with anyone other than Soonyeol so his eagerness is palpable, his mouth fighting a bright smile akin to a puppy.

Once you’re above him, he guides his cock to your hole and sharply pushes into you, causing you to fall forward onto his chest.

He enthusiastically bucks his hips up into you, ensuring that he is catering to every inch of your pleasure. Although he enjoys being looked after and cared for, he will always reciprocate; your enjoyment is as important to him as his own.

It's funny how different he is with you than with his owner; with you, he wants nothing more than to impress you, evident by the way he's focused on fucking into you, but with Soonyeol, he does whatever he wants to give her pleasure but there's no need to put in massive amounts of effort.

You feel his dick pressing deep into you, that curve that you noticed earlier is now doing wonders against your walls. Meeting his thrusts, you bounce on him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you pick up your pace. 

The sound of your skin slapping against Jaeyun is like music to his ears, the smile he was trying to fight off now splitting his face, the joy of fucking you so obvious from his expression. He wants to do this forever.

Looking down, you see him lost in glee and lust as he continues to thrust up into you at a fast pace, his gaze down at where you’re pussy is sucking him in. Gently, you lift his face to look at you, his wide gleaming eyes now staring into yours.

“You’re doing so good, pup,” you assure him, kissing the tip of his nose. He feels his non-existant heart soar at your words, his face radiant with your praise. And you weren’t just saying it, he truly was sensational, probably the best you’ve had in a long time. 

Jaeyun takes your words of appraisal and uses them to fuck into you harder, his mouth now attached to your nipple and he sucks and licks at it like a man starved.

You can feel that familiar coil in your stomach that signifies you’re close to release. Snaking your hand down to your clit you begin to rub circles on it quickly, but as soon as Jaeyun notices, he nudges your hand away and takes care of it himself, rubbing and pinching it between his thumb and pointer finger.

Throwing your head back, your breathing stops momentarily as you push out your orgasm, your wetness coating your inner thighs and his cock as you cum harshly around him, “Jaeyun, fuck!” you cry, hands gripping any part of Jaeyun they can.

Jaeyun shudders as you clench around him, spilling himself into your heat along with you. He rubs his face desperately against your tits, relishing in the feeling of you against him. He has this aching need to be as close to you as possible.

Both of you are in complete and utter bliss as you hold one another, coming down from your highs.

As Jaeyun peppers open-mouthed kisses along your neck, he savours the sensation of your heartbeat, saddened slightly by his lack of. If he had one, he wished you could hear how loudly it was beating from pure satisfaction and tenderness.

"That was incredible, Y/N," he murmurs against the curve of your nape, his smile pressing warmly against your skin.

You tenderly kiss the top of his head and linger there for a moment, your fingers tracing light strokes along his back. But as the clock chimes once again, signalling the passage of time, reality intrudes upon your blissful moment.

"Fuck, I need to get the others to bed," you say regretfully, reluctantly withdrawing yourself from Jaeyun's embrace. The air feels colder now that night is settling in, and the absence of his touch leaves you longing for his warmth.

Jaeyun watches you with a mixture of understanding and longing as you get dressed, his gaze following your movements with a hint of reluctance, he wants you to stay beside him the way Soonyeol does, to look after him a little longer.

Before you part ways, Jaeyun reaches out to gently grasp your hand, "Y/N," he begins, his voice soft yet filled with urgency, "Please, don't tell the others. We aren’t supposed to tell you, and they already think I’m incapable of keeping a secret,” he says disheartened, the last sentence laced with vulnerability.

His plea catches you off guard, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes. Kneeling beside the bed, you take his hand into yours and kiss it softly, “I promise, I will not tell anyone, okay?” you reassure him, punctuating your sentiment with a smile, “This stays between us.”

It’s a promise not only to him but also to yourself. At the end of the day, no matter how good it was, you fucked a doll - an alive one, but still a doll. 

With a grateful smile, Jaeyun leans in to press a gentle kiss against your lips, a silent gesture of gratitude for your understanding, “Thank you, Y/N. This won’t be the last time, will it?” he asks tentatively, trying to seek out how you might feel about the entirety of the situation.

You weigh up the question in your mind. On one hand, you would have someone to talk to and indulge in, but on the other, it’s risky and if Soonyeol found out, you know there would be hell to pay.

“Let’s just see how it goes, pup,” you say vaguely, kissing his forehead one more time.

This mansion is filled with secrets that you need to uncover, and you have two months to do it.

taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @ui11iane @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @belowbun @emikotakayami @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x Reader

[Chapter 16] || [Chapter 18]

Pairing: Gaz x Reader x Ghost x Soap || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.7K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: we're getting there.

Gaz's outfit is 100% a rip off of this fanart by the lovely @temeyes.

Chapter 17: Guard Dogs

You don’t exactly know what you did to deserve this.

You really don’t.

You went on Tinder one time. One night after work.

So why the fuck do you have three men lurking around you like guard dogs?

Ever since the Ethan incident last Friday, they’ve been taking turns going to pick you up at work and walking you home.

Monday - Kyle

Tuesday - Simon

Wednesday - Kyle

Thursday - Simon

It wouldn’t be so bizarre if it weren’t for the fact that people (especially your coworkers) stare when there’s suddenly men waiting for you after work… 

Especially when one of them is a 6ft4 man that’s built like a fridge, giving everyone copious amounts of side-eye as they walk out.

And then you wonder why they ask you get asked questions the next morning.

Today, Friday, you exit work to see not one, not two, but all three of them, standing shoulder-to-shoulder. They look frankly adorable, all beaming at you as you come out of work and preening themselves a bit.

Kyle’s on the far left, wearing a cream-colored hoodie with a blue flannel shirt atop, black cargo pants and white and black Air Jordans. The hoodie is pulled up over his hair and his hands are tucked into the pocket of his hoodie.

Simon’s next to him, in the center, wearing black boots, jeans and a black parka with an inner pollar layer that’s zipped up all the way, so as to cover his mouth, in lieu of his usual mask. His hair is sticking up all over and you just know he put hairgel on it. 

Johnny’s on Simon’s other side, the far right, and wearing a pair of distressed blue jeans, a shaggy burgundy Ramones t-shirt and an unzipped grey hoodie jacket. Just like Kyle, he’s also wearing some Nikes and they’re so pristine and clean you’d swear he’s gotten them from the box a minute ago.

“Hi…?” You said in surprise as you adjusted the sling of your laptop bag on your shoulder.

“Hey!” Johnny greeted you.

“Hi, lovie.” Kyle said with a beaming smile.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Simon said simply and nodded upwards at you.

“What are you… doing?” You trailed off as you came to stand in front of them, your eyes going back and forth between them.

“Couldn’t decide who should come get you. So we decided to both come” Simon told you sincerely. “And since the two of us were coming, Johnny wanted to tag along.” He added.

“Why are ye talking like I’m a puppy that couldn’t be left at home by myself?” Johnny said with raised brows.

“Because you were begging for us to take you with.” Kyle retorted from Simon’s other side.

“Go fuck yourselves.” Johnny added. “You look nice.” He complimented you with a boyish grin.

“In my work uniform?” You retorted as you looked at him with a playful look of disbelief.

“Aye.” He replied. “Always love seein’ someone all knackered and sweaty after work.” He admitted.

“Johnny are you flirting?” Simon asked and he gave Johnny a look that could kill someone.

“Aye.” Johnny replied with a mischievous look in his eyes and pursed his lips together. “Is that forbidden now?”

“Mate…” Kyle quipped, his tone a soft warning.

“What? They already got two blokes after them, can have another one.” Johnny remarked with the same casualty of someone saying they ‘might as well have another biscuit from the box’.

You blinked away the surprise at the flirting. It was still bizarre to have one man like Simon interested… And you felt overwhelmed to have Kyle on top of it… And now Johnny too?

“Okay, erm… So… let’s go?” You announced and turned to start marching up the street to work before anyone could say anything else.

The guys followed behind you wordlessly, in a formation lead by Simon… like you were a mother duck and they were your ducklings… Or, rather, like they were your pack of guar dogs.

-

You’re standing by the door of your kitchen feeling like a guest in your own flat. 

Kyle and Simon are cooking… without even being asked. You stopped by the shop and they immediately announced they’d cook for you and… now they are.

Johnny’s sitting at the dining table behind you, sprawled open and sipping a can of Monster he got himself at the shop when you were all there.

“Okay, what’s up with you?” You announced as you watched the two men move about your kitchen as they made your meal. Simon’s was first in charge of chopping and dicing things… and now he’s in charge of frying… something, while Kyle takes care of basically everything else.

“What do you mean, lovie?” Kyle asks as he turns to glance at you while stirring something.

“You all came to pick me up together… And now you’re cooking for me…” You trail off as your nails clink a bit against the glass of wine they poured you. “What’s going on?”

“You’re adorably annoying with how perceptive you are, you know that?” Simon asks as he glances back at you as well before plucking something out of the frying pan and to a dish on the side. The oil sizzles loudly when he puts something else down to fry.

“Thank you.” You say with a playfully smug tone as you shift around. “But you didn’t answer the question.” You remark.

“After dinner, alright?” He answers and Kyle makes some sounds of agreement.

“They want to be yer boyfriends, officially.” Johnny says behind you and it causes you to whip around to look at him… Which also made Kyle drop whatever he was holding, in shock.

“SOAP!” Both Simon and Kyle shout, scolding the Scot who’s sitting at the table with a broad grin on his lips.

“You… You do?” You ask as you turn to look at them, mouth parted in surprise.

“Yeah...” Kyle replies as he looks at you. 

Simon simply nods and turns away to focus on the food he’s frying.

“I… I’m honored…” You admit and feel your cheeks warming up so bright you fear you’ll start sweating. “I…”

“I’d like a shot at it too, if ye don’t mind.” Johnny adds. Once again, all eyes turn to Johnny with another ‘JOHNNY?!’ which causes him to laugh.

“I’m serious.” He replies. “I’ll gladly date ye too.” He adds.

Your eyes widen. “You-”

“Mhm.” He adds.

“No.” Simon replies as he turns around once more.

“What do you mean ‘no’, L.T.?” Johnny asks in exaggerated offense.

“I mean, I don’t wanna date you.” Simon adds.

“I- Wait.” Now it’s Johnny’s time to get flustered. “Date me?” Poor lad, his whole face warms up bright red.

“Y-Yeah… Kyle and Simon kiss each other sometimes.” You announce and out of the corner of your eye you catch both of the other men stiffening up.

“I KNEW IT. I FOOKIN’ KNEW IT!” Johnny jumps up to his feet, spilling his Monster can on the table. “Ah, shite!” He says as he scrambles to pick it up again before it spills too much.

“What do you mean you knew it?!” Simon asks in shock.

“I KEN YE LIKE EACH OTHER! SAW THE WAY YOU SHARE THOSE COY LOOKS BETWEEN YE!!” Johnny shouts as he points a finger at the two men.

You’re pretty sure they’re all blushing now, you included.

“We didn’t share any looks!” Simon says defensively.

“DID TOO!” Johnny insists. “AND I TAKE OFFENSE TO YE NOT WANTING TO DATE ME, L.T.!” He adds. “I THOUGHT YE LIKED ME!”

Your eyes widen and you move your head side to side trying to keep up with the banter between them as Johnny marches his way into the kitchen so him and Simon can keep bickering.

“Are they always like this?” You find yourself asking Kyle, your eyes widened as they shout your house down.

“Yeah… This is a tame day for them actually. Should hear how they are on comms during missions.” He leans over to whisper in your ear.

“Ah…” You say softly. “I don’t know if I can handle dating this all the time.” You quip playfully, making Kyle laugh.

“You’ll get used to it.” He adds.

As you two continue watching the two men arguing, during which Simon is still, somehow, still tending to the food… You find yourself sneaking little pieces of carrot from the salad Kyle’s making.

Only to stop chewing halfway and let your piece of carrot fall right out of your hands when Johnny suddenly grabs Simon by his face and plants a big kiss right on the taller man’s lips. No warning.

At that moment, Simon looks every bit like Kyle did when they kissed for the first time. Perfectly statue-like still, eyes widened, both hands hanging in the air as if he was frozen…

Johnny’s hands are wrapped around Simon’s face, his palms over his ears, and fingers in his blonde hair, their mouths pressed together…

And then Simon comes back from the trance he’s in and his hands wrap around Johnny’s head too, his fingers digging into the back of his mohawk as their tongues battle together.

“Jesus Christ…” Kyle replies next to you, voicing your exact thoughts.

Once they pull apart, both the men are blushing red and out of breath, eyes widened.

“Ye’ll date me now?” Johnny replies.

Simon doesn’t reply, he simply turns around to finish cooking.

“I think that’s a yes.” You finally announce, finding your voice softly.

Johnny turns to look at you and smirks. “From him or from you?” He asks with a cocked brow.

“Both.” Simon quips with his back turned.

“I think that was the hottest kiss I ever witnessed.” Kyle says softly.

“I’ll give ye a smooch too, don’t get jealous, Gary.” Johnny quips and winks at Kyle.

Then, the Scot grabs a paper towel from the roll and walks toward the door to go mop up the spilled Monster from the table.

But not before he cups Kyle’s face and stealing a peck off his lips…

Then, he does the same to you… before licking his lips at the end. 

“Your wine’s tasty.” He adds, before slinking back out of the room.

You’re left blinking away the shock with an equally stunned Kyle next to you… And you’re pretty sure Simon’s stunned too…

Meanwhile, Johnny’s giggling to himself in the living room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 11)

Have a nice big chapter/part for the weekend! :D

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

Part 11:

Did.. did Charlie just say... Alastor?

You felt someone poke your face, multiple times, all at once, "Hey, Hey, miss bandage face, you good?"

You blink rapidly, being pulled out of your stupor and laugh awkwardly, "Ah haha, uh yeah. Yup, I'm good... Haha, thanks Angel.."

Angel just squints at you, not convinced of your act at all but just sighs and says, "Alright, whatever you say, weirdo.." and then returns back to chatting with Husk.

Vaggie, who was sitting next to you struck up a conversation, "Are you really sure you're okay to be up and around already? You look like you saw a ghost or something."

You briefly glanced at the radio that was sitting on the mantle on the wall before returning your attention to Vaggie, "Yeah, being up was much better than sitting doing nothing, I thought I was going to waste away if I didn't do something."

Vaggie sighs and nods her head, "I know the feeling."

"And.. I swear I thought I heard Charlie mention the name Al-"

"Alastor! You're back! We have a new guest staying at the hotel! Come say hi!" Charlie shot out of her seat as soon as she saw Alastor's shadows start to manifest, signaling his return.

You felt your blood run cold as your suspicions were confirmed. Yes, she just said Alastor. How common could that name be down here? This is just a coincidence, surely- Of all names!

"My, my dear Charlie, you seem quite excited! I haven't seen you bouncing off the walls like this in ages!" Alastor chuckles as he allows Charlie to practically drag him over by the wrist to the group.

He sounds like a radio host...

Your breath starts to quicken as Charlie guides him over to you, his aura feels so oppressive, unlike any Overlord you had ever met before... But what made your hair really stand on the back of your neck was the static noise that filled the air as he got closer. You felt your eyes shake and your gut sink in your stomach.

What was this feeling?

You gulp and look up, eyes wide, looking like a deer in headlights as you make eye contact with this "Alastor".

"Go on! Introduce yourself!" You felt Charlie nudge you excitedly, in an attempt to nudge you out of your frozen state.

On his face, a large, creepy grin/smile- (if you could even call it that) grew even larger on his face - a feat you didn't even know was possible. You felt like you should be scared but then... It dawned on you.

That feeling in your gut dissipated instantly and it felt like a weight got suddenly lifted off your chest.

This was Alastor. This was your Alastor.

Tears start rolling down your face uncontrollably as your body is racked with sobs.

"Heyyy! Hey! It's okay, (y/n)! I know Al can be a wee bit intimidating sometimes but I promise he's not a bad guy! Well... mostly.. haha..." Charlie trails off with a nervous chuckle as she scrambles around the lobby to find you some tissues to dry your tears.

Upon hearing your name said out loud, a loud record scratch filled the air.

"Haha... ha...Charlie, dearest! My, you'd think the years are catching up to me! Was that some sort of joke? Why, I didn't know you wanted to become a comedian! Did you say.. (y/n)? That must be a mistake. I've only ever known one person by that name and they surely couldn't have ended up in Hell of all places!" Alastor chuckles, the laugh track coming from his staff warping as he hovers over Charlie with an intimidating aura- thinking she was playing some sort of sick joke on him.

Charlie whips around to see Alastor up in her face and then she scrambles back, "Woah! What? Alastor! Gods, no, why would I joke about our new guest? That would go against everything i'm trying to do here!"

Alastor's gaze darts over to you, "You see, I think this '(y/n)' and I need to have a chat..." His eyes narrow as he makes quotation marks with his fingers as he says your name.

He walks towards you and grabs your wrist with force, finger like claws starting to dig into your arm- despite protest from Charlie and Vaggie to let you go- to stop harassing their new guest because you were still quite injured and fragile. Even Angel and Husk got up from their seats at the bar after hearing the commotion in the lounge and started yelling at him to stop hurting you because it was very apparent that you were in pain with how rough he was handling you.

Then, with a snap, he teleports you and himself up to his radio tower- away from all the commotion.

Alastor slams the door shut with a fury that you've never seen before, and locks it to make sure you won't even try to make a feeble attempt at an escape.

He was powerful. Alastor knew he didn't really need to lock the door because with his power, he could vaporize you before you even thought of making a dash for the door. He did it as an intimidation tactic because he knew the fear it instilled in his prey.

Now, walking towards you, he pointed his staff at your chest, and leaned in close to your face. Strange static and symbols fill the air as he and his antlers grow in size, towering over you.

"Now... who are you really? You get one chance to make a feeble excuse before I kill you and broadcast your screams for all of Hell to hear, for making a mockery of my dear (y/n) by taking the name of my beloved and masquerading around Hell- thinking you can show up here like this to try and mess with ME- tHe RaDiO DEMON."

You see dark shadows and tentacle-like masses appear, and you stumble backward until your back hits a wall, never breaking eye contact with him- your lip quivering in fear.

"I.. But- It... is me...hun... I missed you so much..." You whisper with a somber smile that's quickly warped into an ugly crying face. The unrelenting tears keep rolling down your face, and your left hand reaches up towards his even more demonically altered form that towers over you in a desperate attempt to get him to recognize you.

Before you can touch his face, one of his hands snatches your wrist and pulls it closer to himself to examine the sparkle that caught his eye as you started to reach out to him, roughly jostling you and lifting you up in the air by your wrist as a result.

You wince briefly at the pain in your wrist and shoulder joints as he examines your hand when you remember you were wearing your ring. You never took it off all these years.

You could hear his breath hitch just ever so slightly over the static as he gently put you down and let your feet touch the floor again.

Alastor realized that the ring on your left ring finger was the exact one he had gotten for you- the one he put on your ring finger right before he buried you right the night you were brutally assaulted and murdered back when he was alive.

He slowly morphed back into his "normal" form. (Normal for Hell, that is, this was an entirely new look for him from what you remembered when he was alive).

The shock dawning on him that it really was you was apparent as he took a few steps back, still holding your hand. He looked at you in disbelief, the look of pure shock was just like how you had looked at him initially in the lobby.

Then suddenly, he pulled you into a warm embrace, "My dearest... I am so sorry for hurting you. My darling... whatever are you doing here? Someone like you doesn't belong here!"

Now, holding your face in both of his hands, he wiped your tears with the most gentle expression on his face, a stark contrast from the nightmarish demonic one just a moment ago. and you could almost swear you could see the slightest traces of a misty look in his eyes as he held you.

His claw-like fingers slightly dug into your face, but not enough to hurt, as he examined your new appearance, his gaze turning from soft into a hardened expression once again. Almost snarling, he began to ask you again, "Tell me, darling, tell me the name of the gods forsaken angel bastard that cast you down from Heaven. I will find a way to make them pay. I'll make them ALL pay for this... NO ONE will ever harm you again..." The strange symbols and glitchy auras were threatening to come out again.

You sniffled, still trying to calm down your tears, which immediately made him halt in his tracks and turn his attention back to you at this moment.

You looked at the ground, and you knew you couldn't avoid this conversation forever, "Hun... I... Before we met... there was something I never told you-" Before you could finish, you felt your legs start to wobble underneath you- the adrenaline was starting to fade and you were starting to feel some of the pain from your previous injuries come back to you.

"Please, my love, take a seat first." He guided you to a set of a table and two chairs. Ever the gentleman, he pulled your chair out for you and helped made sure you were alright before he sat down across the table from you.

You put your hands on the table, a signal he immediately picked up on as a sign to envelop your hands in his. You looked at him in the eyes with a look of shame that scrunched up your face as you prepared to tell him the truth, "Alastor, hun... I never went to Heaven..."

You swore you heard another record scratch before a quiet hum of static filled the air again. Alastor chuckled, "Oh my dear, never lost your sense of humor, I see!"

A look of even deeper shame washes over your face as you break eye contact with him and stare at his hands that held your's on the table, "It's true. Alastor..." You sigh deeply, feeling an aching pain in your chest, not only from your injuries but also from the mental anguish you were dealing with as you shakily begin to explain everything about your past. Your shitty family and messed-up inlaws. Your narcissistic, unloving, and abusive ex-husband that you killed.

You painstakingly revealed every single minute detail. You told him everything.

-> Part 12

Tag List:

@mysticwitchcraftco @lil-bexie @lonely-burger @cherry-cola-100 @angelxx7 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @avitute @justhellacesome @mcrtrashfan @spookysisters

[hyunsvngs]

𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

fratboy!stray kids x reader

synopsis: a night where you reveal your most intense desires to your best friend lands you in the hot seat. you quickly find yourself in the heart of frat party central - will you embrace the connections you make in your hot bitch summer?

status: completed

total wc: 45.6k

[please view specific chapters for warnings! this work is 18+ MDNI]

makes me dizzy [lee minho x gn!afab reader, 18+ smut]

⇢ the best surprises come from the most unexpected sources - like having your crush corner you in a frat party after hearing you confess your deepest desires of him in the background of a video.

2. wanna be your favourite boy [han jisung x gn!afab reader, side lee minho x reader, 18+ smut]

⇢ after spending a night with the man of your dreams, your best friend won’t look you in the eyes or reply to your texts. what did you do wrong? nothing - he just wants you.

3. need some air [seo changbin x gn!afab reader, side lee minho x reader, 18+ smut]

⇢ your situationship - the man of your dreams - gives you full, explicit permission to fuck his frat brothers in your effort of a hot bitch summer. who’s next, after you ruined your best friend in bed?

4. drunk on rose water [hwang hyunjin x gn!afab reader, 18+ smut]

⇢ it was well established now that you were fucking your way around the frat. you hadn't intended to make hyunjin your next victim, but when you end up alone together, it seems like the perfect opportunity.

5. 5-star [lee felix x gn!afab reader, 18+ smut]

⇢ your best friend is pissed he hasn’t had his turn yet. the only problem is, his turn begins to take place in a room with three other people present.

6. go ahead and cry [kim seungmin x gn!afab reader, 18+ smut]

⇢ following the events of your almost-orgy, you can’t stop thinking about a certain someone and the way he behaved in bed.

7. drive [bang chan x gn!afab reader, 18+ smut]

⇢ the party was boring. thankfully, the frat president who you hadn’t spoken to for a while offers you to go on a drive.

8. to be yours [yang jeongin x gn!afab reader, 18+ smut]

⇢ you and your favourite boy have planned to take apart the youngest member of the frat - but the question is, what has developed along the way? your hot bitch summer has a high chance of being fully successful, albeit with some new feelings.

© hyunsvngs, est 2023. all rights reserved.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt.1)

Lucifer/Reader

Hazbin Hotel AU where Lilith never existed, Lucifer has been lonely for over a millennia and Charlie will be born one way or another. Rated E for explicit sexual content of the raunchiest variety in later chapters and also weird old people.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5

There was a knock at your door. It sounded like someone rapping their knuckles against the wood whimsically, as if following the beat of a song you couldn’t hear.

The methodical folding of your clothes into garage sale-quality drawers came to a halt. You looked over your shoulder, shifting on your feet hesitantly.

It had been little over a week since you moved into the grand old Donner apartment. Apart from a quick tow-in of shoddy furniture from your hired movers, no one had come calling. 

You definitely weren’t expecting anyone either, not in a brand new city you’d spontaneously decided to live in.

After another moment of uncertainty, you pivoted to the door and inched it open to a slit you could peek through. “Hello?”

Your brow furrowed as you stared at the empty space ahead of you. Pulling the door open fully, you peered down one end of the hallway to the other. 

Nothing but cracked and crumbling crown moldings on wainscoting, a matted-looking saxony carpet, the same musty, stale air…

‘Quack’

You nearly jumped out of your skin, head snapping down to see a real, live duck standing just outside your doorframe. 

“Oh!”

     You immediately squatted down to marvel at the animal. It gazed back up at you with beady red eyes and a curious gait. 

“Hey little guy,” You cooed, smiling despite the incongruous image of a waterfowl in your building.

You raised a hand and reached out slowly, instinctive desire to pet the cute little creature warring with a minuscule yet no less embarrassing fear. 

Were ducks typically friendly? You knew so little, ornithology not being your thing. 

“Will you let me pet you?” Your fingers hovered over the surprisingly patient animal before it decided to nudge itself under your palm.

The duck shivered with delight at your touch, all-white feathers ruffling excitedly and tail wagging, looking akin to a very happy dog. 

“Oh my god.” You gasped, heart melting. “You’re so cute!”

Soft feathers brushed against your bent knees as the duck drew close enough to rub its body against you. It had gone from doggish to cat-like effortlessly, and you couldn’t help giggling over how silly it looked.

“Where did you come from?” You asked after a bit of cuddling, glancing from side to side once again. The hallway remained empty, no one running to fetch what you assumed was a beloved pet. 

     ‘That’s… weird.’ You thought. ‘So, who knocked on my door?’ 

It was tempting to ask the bird that was currently bouncing on its webbed feet. You couldn’t help but snort with laughter before positioning yourself so that you were sitting. In an instant, the duck made to climb into your lap, allowing you to carefully lift it onto your legs when it couldn’t reach. 

“You’re so silly!” Grinning, you continued to stroke its head. “Your owner is probably worried sick about their silly little guy.” 

‘Quack’ 

The duck burrowed its head against your stomach as it settled on your lap, and you sighed. “I’d love to keep you, but I don’t know how to take care of you, sweetie.” 

Little red eyes bore into you from below, seemingly wide and beseeching. It was too precious, and too perfect (to the point where you idly wondered if someone was somehow scouting a way to scam you via adorable duck shenanigans).

Aside from the guttural, sad ‘wek’ you got in reply, a slow creak of hinges drew your attention back up. The door across from you had visibly opened the barest amount. You squinted, just able to make out frizzy red hair and a red-rimmed, down-turned mouth in the dim lighting. 

“Oh hey, hi!” You stopped yourself from standing, instead of bracing the bundle in your lap close. “Is this your duck?”

A tingle went up your spine as the door opened fully and an old woman appeared. She was dressed in green capri pants and a ruffled tan blouse, hair red as an open flame and barely kept in-check by a cheetah-print scarf. The makeup she wore was caked on, harsh red lipstick smeared around her thin lips and black kohl-rimmed eyes popping out of her wrinkled face. 

The sour, almost suspicious look on her face softened but did not completely go away, even when she smiled.

“Oh Lou!” She cried, making you jump. “You didn’t get very far, did you? I almost didn’t notice you were gone, you little scoundrel!”

“Well, thank goodness for that I guess. He’s got those little legs, ya see,” She nodded down at your lap, “but he’s so darn fast anyway, might as well be a midget racehorse!”

You chuckled and smiled politely. That persistent tingling at your back had you holding back a shiver, and the skin on your arms prickled and rose. 

“I didn’t know we could have pet ducks in this building.” Your words belied a confidence, as well as interest in having a conversation with this woman, that you didn’t truly have. 

As a matter of fact, despite the inner scolding you gave yourself for being judgmental, you were quite off-put in the woman’s presence. The want to return to your apartment and shut the door in her overly-painted face was rising like a lump in your throat. 

“He seems to really like you, that’s so sweet. He’s not usually this friendly with anyone but my hubby. That’s Mr. Farrow, honey, have you met him?” The woman - presumably Mrs, Farrow, leaned down just a few feet away. 

She still looked to be examining you and your avian companion, the bland pleasantness oozing yet unable to suffocate the shrewd glint in her dark eyes. 

“Oh, uh, no. I’m afraid I haven’t -” You started. 

“Oh, that’s alright! That’s fine! Matter of fact, he’d get an earful from me if he was talkin’ to a pretty thing like you without me knowin’!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Just kiddin’, honey. You’re new to the building though, aren’t you? Well, welcome! It’s nice to see a new face here! ‘Specially a young one!” 

“Thank —”

“Maybe that’s why Lou is so taken with you! Animals just thrive off energy and sunshine and all that. Not slow, almost dead things. I’m sure you’re birds of a feather that way.” 

Again, your soft laughter is polite, teetering on nervousness. 

You took a moment to rise, humming apologetically when Lou squawked as he was jostled. On your feet, you instinctively stepped back. One foot over the threshold and solid in your apartment. 

“He is really sweet.” You said, holding the animal out as carefully as you could. “I’m glad he didn’t get lost.”

Mrs. Farrow stared, arms falling to her sides. She didn’t attempt to take the bird from you for a long, long moment. 

Confusion and disbelief clouded your mind as you stood, waiting, watching as Mrs. Farrow’s throat bobbed when she swallowed forcefully. 

What? Was she afraid of the duck?

In a split-second, she returned to smiling animatedly and waved a geriatric hand in the air so flippantly that the uncomfortable moment ceased to exist. 

“Oh honey, you can put him down if you want. He’ll come back over now that our door’s open.” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Lou’s not my biggest fan. He’s such a prideful thing, you know. Just like Mr. Farrow - it’s probably why they get along so well!”

You blinked, then slowly bent at the waist to let Lou down. The duck made another disdainful quack, red eyes looking at you morosely. 

It’s little legs eventually rowed through the air in an effort to gain footing. You lightly placed him over the carpet and let go, allowing Lou to jump down. 

The duck began waddling away, though it appeared to hang its head as it did so. Occasionally, he turned to look at you, somber and sullen as if bidding farewell before walking on death row. 

“Aww, poor little thing.” Mrs. Farrow drawled. At your side. “Looks like my Lou is sweet on you! Poor guy, I can see why! Again, a lovely young thing like you is probably a gift from above in this stuffy old place.” 

“Say, how long have you been here?” 

You turned to the old woman. “About a week, I’m still getting settled.”

Mrs. Farrow nodded vigorously, eyes bright but mouth pursed. “A week, a week?! A week and no one’s introduced themselves to you?”

“Holy Toledo, you must think we’re all a bunch a’ snobs in here! That’s no good. Oh! Why don’t you come over for dinner sometime and me and my mister can show you some proper hospitality?” 

“Oh, that's really nice of you —” 

“Sure! Sure! It’ll be great, how ‘bout tomorrow night? It’d give us some time to get prepared, have things cleaned and settled. Do you like steak? That’d be perfect, actually. I’ve got some in the freezer just waitin’ to be defrosted.”

“Um, well — That’s a little short notice…”

“I’m sure Mr. Farrow won’t mind. He’ll be glad for the company, and if he isn’t, well he will be when I’m done with him.” She chortled. “Just another joke, honey. He’s always dyin’ to talk to someone that isn’t me. It’d be a real treat to him. Treat ta me too! What do you say?”

Your mouth opened and closed as a light sheen of sweat broke over the nape of your neck. Mrs. Farrow’s sharp eyes were wider, attempting to beguile you while your head was still spinning. 

“I-I guess, maybe —” You stammered.

“Wonderful!” The eccentric woman’s eyes lit up like fireworks, cigarette-smoker’s voice becoming truly raucous in her delight. “I’ll go ahead and get started. You go get back to what it was you were doing before Lou and I interrupted you! And don’t worry about a thing! We might be old timers, but a good meal and good cheer never go out of style.” 

Mrs. Farrow laughed, pretending to shoo you away until you were back inside your apartment and she was pulling your door to a close for you. 

“Have a good night, honey! We’ll see you tomorrow! 6 o’clock, don’t be late!”

Before you knew it, you were staring at the back of your own door again. 

‘What the fuck just happened?’

[animusrox]

TOP 10

Past Lives

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

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Oppenheimer

Barbie

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Killers of the Flower Moon

MY LETTERBOXD Grade A 11.    The Killer 12.    Beau Is Afraid 13.    Dream Scenario 14.    Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 15.    Godzilla Minus One 16.    American Fiction 17.    They Cloned Tyrone 18.     Evil Dead Rise 19.    Eileen 20.    The Artifice Girl 21.   Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem 22.    Talk to Me 23.    Reality 24.    Leave the World Behind 25.    A Thousand and One 26.    Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One 27.    Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. 28.    Theater Camp 29.   Carmen 30.    Merry Little Batman 31.    Priscilla 32.    Society of the Snow 33.    Infinity Pool 34.    Enys Men 35.    Sanctuary 36.    Rye Lane 37.    Skinamarink 38.    Monster 39.    Anatomy of a Fall 40.    Landscape with Invisible Hand 41.    Reptile 42.    Sisu 43.    Pinball: The Man Who Saved the Game 44.    No One Will Save You 45.    Tetris 46.    May December 47.    The Zone of Interest 48.    V/H/S/85 49.    Dumb Money 50.    El Conde 51.    Arnold 52.    Maestro 53.    Napoleon 54.    20 Days in Mariupol 55.    Influencer 56.    The Creator 57.    Origin 58.    Thanksgiving 59.    Next Goal Wins 60.    The Boy and the Heron 61.    Bottoms 62.    Wonka

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Grade B

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Grade C

129.   Wildflower 130.    Freelance 131.    M3GAN 132.    Strays 133.    Sympathy for the Devil 134.    Creed III 135.    Chevalier 136.    The Marsh King’s Daughter 137.    A Haunting in Venice 138.    The Little Mermaid 139.    Silent Night 140.    Master Gardener 141.    The Flash 142.    Fast X 143.    The Pope’s Exorcist 144.    Saltburn 145.    Kandahar 146.    Stand 147.    Plane 148.   Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny 149.    Fingernails 150.    Quicksand 151.    Fool’s Paradise 152.    Migration 153.    Rustin 154.    The Covenant 155.    Good Burger 2 156.    The Pod Generation 157.    Alice, Darling 158.    Insidious: The Red Door 159.    Missing 160.    Shotgun Wedding 161.    You Hurt My Feelings 162.    The Boogeyman 163.    Showing Up 164.    Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom 165.    Champions 166.    Consecration 167.    The Nun II 168.    Biosphere 169.    House Party 170.    The Exorcist: Believer 171.    Big George Foreman 172.    Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves 173.    Children of the Corn 174.    The Beanie Bubble 175.    Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania

Grade F

176.    Anyone But You 177.    Marlowe 178.    Paint 179.    Extraction 2 180.    It Lives Inside 181.    Deliver Us 182.    Trolls Band Together 183.    Finestkind 184.    Corner Office 185.    Wish 186.    Prisoner’s Daughter 187.    Pain Hustlers 188.    Foe 189.    The Mother 190.    Old Dads 191.    Ghosted 192.    Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken 193.    Haunted Mansion 194.    Mafia Mamma 195.    Five Nights at Freddy’s 196.    The Machine 197.    Justice League: Warworld 198.    We Have a Ghost 199.    What Comes Around 200.    Legion of Super-Heroes 201.    The Boys in the Boat 202.    Attachment 203.    Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre 204.    About My Father 205.    You People 206.    Meg 2: The Trench 207.    Pathaan 208.    Rebel Moon - Part One: A Child of Fire 209.    Assassin 210.    Dalíland 211.    Vacation Friends 2

Bottom 10

212.    Sound of Freedom 213.    Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey 214.    When You Finish Saving The World 215.    Heart of Stone 216.    Family Switch 217.    Expend4bles 218.    Sweetwater 219.    Hypnotic 220.    80 for Brady 221.    Spinning Gold

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 4 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: the power outage is still power outing, curses, Jungkook being Jungkook, mentions of being really drunk and throwing up, explicit content: they talk about what happened in ch 3, teasing, some Mario Kart (yes, it has to be in the explicit content section lmao), hickeys, brat!reader, dom!Jungkook, big dick!Jungkook, degradation (he calls her a slut/pretty little slut), consent king Jeon Jungkook, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, jerking off, talks about having raw sex, protected sex, praise

☆word count: 9.5k

☆a/n: new chapterrrrrrr! Enjoy reading everyone <3 there's a tiny bit of angst if you squint your eyes really hard, but the real angst will hit much later on. Thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Friday, February 15th

You wake up slowly, with the rising sun. Your room is dark, cold, yet you’re snuggled close to Jungkook, whose body heat has been keeping you warm all night. He’s still asleep, mouth slightly parted, and you watch him for a few seconds before the events of last night come back to your mind, and you have to shut your eyes to try to forget.

It’s hard. His arm is still draped over you, and it twitches in his sleep. You try to push him away, but he wraps his arm around you tighter, nuzzling his face in your neck. It does something to you that you entirely can’t deal with, and you shut your eyes even harder, trying to ignore the way your heart is acting up in your chest.

You breathe in, the cold air taming the burning inside of you. You exhale slowly, and to your surprise, your heart finally decides to start calming down. You keep breathing deeply for a while, and you reckon it might have worked better than you expected because, next thing you know, you wake up with a start.

Jungkook is sitting next to you, and he offers you a lopsided grin as you meet his gaze, heart once again beating wildly.

“Morning, peach,” he greets you, voice gravelly with sleep.

You force yourself to sit up, and you stretch a yawn away. “Morning.”

“Slept well?”

There’s a teasing glint in his eyes, mischief laced with his words. You know you shouldn’t be surprised. Know Jungkook is probably going to turn you into a blushing mess even more now. Especially as he smirks, head cocking to the side while he awaits your answer.

“Yeah,” you answer, and you look towards the window as his eyes bore into your profile. You take a deep breath, another yawn moving through you before you’re able to look at him again. “Did you?”

“Better than I thought I would,” he admits, and he stretches before lying back down, pulling the covers to his face. It’s adorable, in a way Jeon Jungkook should never be, and you force yourself to not let it get to your mind as he continues, “I usually sleep like shit when I sleep with someone.”

You purse your lips, refusing to give meaning to his words as you say, “Maybe last night helped.”

The lopsided smile is back, and he nods once, sighing in content. “We should lose power more often.”

In the hopes that power would come back during the night, you plugged in your phone before going to sleep. You reach for it on the night table, and even though your room is still freezing, you’re still taken aback that the power is still out.

“Well, we still don’t have any,” you inform him.

He glances at you. “Then we should go back to sleep.”

At that, you snort, shaking your head. Even though your battery is low, you still go to your emails, trying to see if you received anything from your professor.

What you find is a college-wide email informing the students that all college activities are cancelled today and through the weekend, to start again on Monday. Your gaze widens before you glance at Jungkook.

“Power is still out in college, too,” you tell him. “So, no class.”

Jungkook’s smile only grows wider, and he opens his arms for you to come cuddle again. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Your heart is warm. A hearth, in which a small fire has started to burn. It’s soft, cozy, and you worry at your bottom lip as you survey Jungkook. As you try to figure out when you crossed the line, and if it’s too late to pull back.

You figure you can decide later when the power is back on and this bubble outside of time will have burst, and you lie back next to him. His arms, still wide open, look far too inviting, and it takes you about five seconds before you’re scooching into his embrace.

He sighs in content. “You know,” he lets out. “If Tae learns, I’m a dead man.”

Reality crashes harder than a tsunami on a beach, and you try to pull away. Jungkook holds onto you, even when you push on his chest.

“I was just going to say,” he adds so you’d stop pushing him, “that we should keep this between us.”

You nod against him as you finally stop trying to pull away. “Yes, I agree.”

“Good.”

And Tae doesn’t cross your mind for the rest of the morning. Eventually, you and Jungkook decide to move out of the safe comfort of the covers, needing to eat something before you die, as Jungkook jokes. It’s a quick trip to the kitchen before you figure your room is far warmer than the rest of the apartment. You retreat with fruits, while Jungkook grabs a bowl of the food he cooked yesterday.

Watching him eat it cold makes you gag, so you turn away from him to focus on eating your apple and blueberries.

“What?” he says, and he sounds like his mouth is full.

“How can you even be eating that?”

There are a few seconds of silence, while he clearly swallows his bite. “What’s wrong with it?”

You scrunch up your nose in disgust, glancing at him over your shoulder. His gaze is narrowed, eyebrows bunched together over his eyes as he fakes offence, or perhaps suspicion. It makes you snort, and you look away from him before you speak again.

“It’s cold.”

“Wow, is it?” he teases. “Never would have noticed.”

You roll your eyes, forcing your laugh down because Jeon Jungkook shouldn’t be making you laugh anyway. Silence replaces the conversation, and you finish eating in peace, watching the world outside the window.

It looks straight out of a fairy tale. The trees are covered in a thick coat of ice, and they glisten in the morning light as if they are made of glass. It’s beautiful, in an unforgiving way, and you find peace in their contemplation.

Peace in this comfortable silence with Jungkook.

By the time you’re done eating, Jungkook has wolfed down the bowl he made for himself, and you both return to the kitchen to put away the dishes you’d used. Jungkook leans against the counter while you rinse them, arms folded on his chest.

“What should we do today?” he asks.

You cock an eyebrow. “We?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “Unless you want to be alone.”

Your eyes dart to him quickly, before returning to the safety of the spot where the jet of water hits the bowl you’re holding. “What do you want to do?”

“We could go for a car ride,” he suggests. “To charge up our phones.”

“Don’t you think the roads are a little too dangerous right now?”

He plays with his piercing as he frowns slightly, clearly not having thought about this. “Right.” You watch as the cogs work in his brain, and you can’t help the smile that slowly grows on your lips when his features light up. “We can just stay parked somewhere.”

“We’d still have to get there.”

He furrows his brows. “I’m sure they’ve put salt on the streets, we should be okay.”

What he doesn’t know is that you don’t need convincing. You’ve already decided you’d go, mostly because you do need to charge your phone. Not because you really need it right now, but just because the thought of not having it with you feels strange. 

“We’re going?” Jungkook presses as you remain silent.

He must be immune to the teasing glint you know for a fact has taken over your eyes. You sigh, before nodding once. “Sure.”

He beams. “Let’s go!”

His enthusiasm makes you laugh, and you turn the tap off before turning to watch him as he’s leaving the kitchen. 

“Shouldn’t we brush our teeth and freshen up first?”

He stops in his tracks. “Right.” He turns, flashing you a grin that reveals the same dimples you noticed yesterday. “Good luck with taking a shower, though.”

You snort. “Let’s just brush our teeth.”

Which is what you do, Jungkook pushing you with his hips as you stand next to him. You flip him off, and his eyes sparkle as he looks at you.

It stabs right through your heart, and you look away, searching for salvation on the tiles of the floor. It does nothing – reality is just a heartbeat away, and no matter how easy it is with Jungkook right now, you’re very aware that the moment the world returns to normalcy, your relationship with him will too.

And you still don’t understand where this is coming from. Where this easy complicity between you comes from, and why you’ve never really noticed before. Was it because of Taehyung?

It’s a question you ask yourself for the next hour, as you sit in Jungkook’s car listening to music and belting out tunes even though you’re not half the singer that he is. He doesn’t mention it, only laughs along with you before asking you stupid questions about your past, about Taehyung when you grew up and why you decided to move in with them.

He clearly doesn’t like you saying that it was just because it was convenient. It’s clear as spring water, and he pouts slightly as he says, “Not even for me?”

You punch him in the shoulder. “I didn’t know you when I moved in.”

“But now you do,” he teases, smirk moving on his lips. 

There’s more meaning to his words than it seems, and you feel blush creeping on your cheeks. “Do I?”

“I’d say watching me jerk off and come is a good way to get to know me, no?”

“Jungkook!”

He laughs like a child as you flush furiously purple, trying to ignore how, as a matter of fact, his words are actually turning you on. You don’t want to think about last night, just want to focus on the now, on this unexpected friendship.

Jungkook has other plans for you, because he says, “Don’t tell me you didn’t like it.”

You glare at him. “Shut up.”

“You’re blushing.”

If possible, your glare intensifies. “Shut the fuck up.”

He dissolves in a fit of giggles that makes your heart skip a beat, and you roll your eyes before glancing at your phone. 

“Mine’s full now,” you mutter. 

For a reason you don’t quite understand, Jungkook has two phone cords in his car, both of them working to charge. He glances at his phone, shaking his head.

“You’re going to be stuck with me for longer, peach,” he tells you mischievously. “Mine’s only on 75%.”

“Do you really need it full?”

He offers you an innocent smile. “Definitely.”

Your phone buzzes, and you both glance towards it. You’ve received a text from Ria, in the group chat you share with the whole friend group. She’s asking how everyone’s surviving, and if anyone needs to crash at the dorm, which for some reason, is the only place on campus that still has power.

You hesitate for half a heartbeat before turning your phone off.

*****

Today was fun, albeit cold. After charging your phones in Jungkook’s car, you took a long walk through campus, just talking about everything and nothing as if you’d always been close.

As if he didn’t finger you with his cum last night.

Whenever the thought resurfaces, it makes you startle, and Jungkook smirks. Because he knows – obviously he does.

He knows the effect he has on you. You think he sees how you tense whenever his hand touches yours, whenever he stands just a little too close. And maybe that’s why you avoided going home for a long time, because you’re afraid that being stuck between four walls with him again will make you go insane.

Alas, when you both grow hungry sometime in the afternoon, you can’t force him to stay out, so you follow him home, ignoring the weight of your turned-off phone in your pocket.

Fortunately enough, on all the journey walking around campus, you didn’t run into anyone from your friend group. Somehow, you were afraid that you would – what would they think if they saw you hanging out with Jungkook?

More importantly, what would Hoseok think? Maybe it makes you an asshole, but in the moment, you don’t really care. You are entirely focused on Jungkook, mostly because it’s easy to be entirely focused on him. As if he’s the full moon in a summer night sky – he makes all the stars hard to see, as he shines too bright for their glow to be noticeable. 

You sigh as you’re settled in the kitchen, door closed as Jungkook reheats something on the stove. It’s not extremely cold in the apartment, but keeping the door shut does help with keeping the kitchen warm enough to be bearable with only a thick sweater on.

You think Jungkook is crazy. He’s only wearing a beige and indigo athletic Nike vest, and he’s left it unzipped because he claimed he was getting too warm. Underneath, a white t-shirt rests loosely around his waist, and you’ve been doing your best to forget just how dainty his waist is, under all the clothes.

“See, we’re going to build up your heat tolerance,” he says over his shoulder, and he flashes you a grin before focusing on what he’s reheating again.

“Good luck with that,” you answer, chuckling. “I’ve tried before, and nothing works.”

“You and Tae really are the worst at that,” Jungkook teases, and you roll your eyes even if he can’t see. 

Indeed, he’s turned his head towards the window, and he watches the sun as it gets lower in the sky, nearing the horizon. You’re afraid of when it’ll be gone under; you’re afraid it’ll elicit sinful activities between you and Jungkook again.

Afraid, yet with a certain kind of apprehension to it. Perhaps because it’s not fear of him, but rather fear of yourself.

It’s hard to remember that he’s Taehyung’s best friend when you’re alone with him like this.

Especially when he sets a steaming bowl of food in front of you, a wicked smile on his lips as he forces you to eat. As you choke on it, the heat too much to handle for you. Jungkook laughs out loud before handing you a glass of ice-cold water.

It barely helps, and the heat remains for a while as you eat, and even more so as you’re done, watching Jungkook eating a second portion as if he hasn’t eaten the first one in record time. You’re playing music on your phone, your usual study playlist – lo-fi beats – and Jungkook seems to like it. He’s been nodding his head to the music as he devoured his bowl.

When he finishes eating, sitting back in his chair as he rests a hand on his stomach, he once again offers you the wide grin. The sun is setting now – the whole kitchen is turning to gold, and you hate that the glow makes him look ethereal, like he’s a piece of heaven fallen to Earth for you to enjoy.

“Do you want to wash yourself?” Jungkook asks out of the blue. You cock an eyebrow in question, but before you’ve had a chance to say anything, he adds, “We could warm some water on the stove and use that to wash ourselves.”

Your eyes widen. “That’s actually a good idea.”

“Come on, peach,” he lets out, and he chuckles as he shakes his head, a little condescendingly. “You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

Stupid wouldn’t be the word that you’d use. Arrogant, maybe. Too full of himself, for sure. But you don’t think that saying so would be a good idea, so you only shrug.

“Aren’t you?”

He bursts out laughing, that goofy smile that makes your heart skip beats in your chest as if you’re twelve and it’s the first time you’re speaking to a guy. “I’m not, thank you very much. I wouldn’t be in college if I was.”

“Lots of stupid people are in college,” you point out mischievously.

He tuts. “I’d thought by now you’d know I’m not a lot of people, peach.” He cocks his head to the side, and his eyes drop to your lips. “You get fingered by a lot of guys like that?”

You turn to fire. “Excuse me?”

And the goofy smile returns, as if he didn’t just say the crudest sentence in the world. “Just teasing you.”

You narrow your eyes but don’t find any retort to that. It makes Jungkook’s grin widen, and then he gets up to bring your bowl and his to the sink. As he’s rinsing them, he offers you a look.

“Should I reheat some water then?” he asks, the teasing tone gone. 

You try a look towards him, but standing there, the sun forms too much of an aura around him, so you can barely see him even if you squint your eyes. 

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“One pot for you and one for me, then!”

His statement makes you laugh, and you get up to actually help him get the pots on the stove. You turn the gas on, using the lighter so that the flames catch, and soon the water is heating up, and the prospect of freshening up brings a smile to your lips.

You notice Jungkook looking at it, features turning somber. And he’s quick to look away. Quick to focus on where the sun dipped under the horizon, watching the clouds turning to gold above.

“Have you spoken to Tae today?” he asks, and the reminder of your brother makes you clench your jaw, ever so slightly.

“No,” you admit. You think he’ll say more, but he remains silent. So you take it upon yourself to make conversation, and you ask, “Have you?”

He shrugs. “Just told him the power is still out.”

“Mmh.”

The silence is deafening then – you can barely hear it over the clamour in your thoughts. And you don’t know where it’s coming from, only that the more the silence stretches, the more you grow unsteady on your feet.

“How did you guys meet?” you ask, voice sounding a little strained.

Jungkook shoots you a look. “He didn’t tell you?”

You purse your lips and shake your head no, which earns you a chuckle from him. It makes you grow suspicious, and you narrow your gaze. “What?”

“Nothing.” He pauses, observes your features for a moment with those big doe eyes of his before he says, “We met Frosh week.”

You remain silent, waiting for him to continue.

“He was pissed out drunk in a bush,” Jungkook admits, and his eyes fog up with the memories as he looks away from you. “Jimin is the one that found him first. And mind you, I only knew Jimin for a few days then, since we were dorm roommates.”

But you know how easy friendship forms in that Frosh week. You and Nabi are a good example of it after all.

“We couldn’t find anyone who knew him, so we brought him back to the dorm. He threw up in Jimin’s bed, and the next day he suggested grabbing breakfast together, as a thank you for taking care of him.”

Jungkook smiles fondly, and his gaze connects with yours. “And the rest is history.”

It sure is. You’re not really sure where you come into this story – if you should come into it at all. Because Jungkook and Taehyung really are close – what would Taehyung say if he knew what Jungkook and you did?

It’s a scary thought, one that you’ve remedied with Jungkook already. You just have to not tell Taehyung, simple as that.

“I think the water is ready,” Jungkook admits, and he dips his fingers in one of the pots. He nods, before saying, “You can grab yours, and go to the bathroom. I’ll clean up in my room.”

“Don’t you need soap?”

He raises an eyebrow. “You know soap can be carried outside of a bathroom? Like, it’s not confined-“

His sentence dies as you punch him in the chest, and he starts laughing as you curse him under your breath, grabbing the pot. 

“Open the door for me,” you grumble as you walk towards it.

“Please?”

You look up to the water-stained ceiling. “Are you for real?”

“Yes.”

You debate silently, though you know that you’ll cave in.

You reckon you’ll always cave in where Jungkook is concerned. 

“Can you please open the door for me?” you ask, and you scold yourself internally for not being able to stand your ground.

“Of course, peach,” he says, grinning widely. “I can actually carry that to the bathroom for you, I need to grab soap and a towel anyway.”

He walks towards you, gently taking the pot out of your hands, so you end up opening the door for him, begrudgingly following him to the bathroom. You follow him in, watching him as he carefully puts the pot down in the sink. 

“Here you go,” he says as he shoots you a look over his shoulder. 

You can’t help but look away as your gazes connect, before mumbling, “Thank you.”

“You could at least sound happy about it,” he teases. You roll your eyes, though a smile teases the corners of your lips. Jungkook taps your cheek, and you bristle, stepping away from him. 

If he cares he doesn’t show it, instead moving to grab a washcloth and his shower gel. 

Are you disappointed to see him go? Maybe. But you don’t let it show, instead shutting the door behind him, making sure to lock it before you strip out of your clothes to wash up.

It’s freezing, and you hate every second of it, so you make it quick, washing the most strategic and important body parts. When you’re done, you move to grab your clean clothes from the…

You never grabbed clean clothes, did you? 

You curse under your breath, mostly cursing Jungkook for making you so stupid around him. You hate it - you feel like you lose most of your brain cells when he’s around. But you can’t help it, and you tightly wrap yourself in a towel as you pray to the God above, if there’s one, to not make you run into Jungkook as you walk back to your room.

Of course, Jungkook opens the door to his room the second you are in front of it. You startle, freezing like a deer in headlights, and Jungkook’s gaze dips to your legs.

You hate the smirk growing on his lips the second it appears.

“What’s got you walking around naked in this temperature?”

Though you reckon his gaze warms you up in an instant, you reply, “Fuck off, I just forgot to get clean clothes.”

He leans against his doorframe, slipping his hands in the pocket of his grey sweatpants. He looks the perfect picture of male insolence, and fuck, it does things to you that it shouldn’t.

Like, make you remember that he fingered you with his cum yesterday. Thinking about it, it was a really stupid thing to do, but you hadn’t been able to resist…

And from the way he’s eyeing you right now, you highly doubt you’ll be able to resist him again. You realize then that the apartment is darkening, that soon you’ll have to light up the candles… 

You’re sinking in quicksands, aren’t you?

“How unfortunate,” Jungkook comments, always so arrogant.

“I said it already, but do really fuck off, JK,” you reply.

He tilts his head to the side - the predator, and you, its next meal. “That’s not what you were saying yesterday.”

You blush, bright scarlet taking over your features, and you roll your eyes, choosing to ignore his comment as you finish walking to your room.

“That’s what I thought,” he says behind you, and you flip him off over your shoulder, which makes him laugh that boyish laugh that does things to you.

You lean against the bedroom door once you get in, heart beating out of your chest, cursing power for going out, and cursing your brother for choosing to do a semester abroad.

It’s useless - the cursing, that is. Because it won’t change anything, and a small, tiny, minuscule part of you doesn’t want it to… so you curse yourself too for good measure.

By the time you finally emerge from your bedroom, the sun has fully set, and you’ve been using your phone as a flashlight. Jungkook is sitting in the living room, playing on his Switch, which apparently still has battery, and he glances at you as you approach.

“Want to play a game?” he asks, offering you a small smile. 

His features are lit from the screen, and he looks soft, his big eyes slightly crinkling at the corners. You hold in your own smile, instead cocking an eyebrow.

“So that I can beat your ass?” you say.

You watch as fire catches in his gaze, and you think he’s about to burn you to the spot. “Oh, you wanna play this game?” he says, his voice suddenly an octave lower.

A thrilled shiver runs down your spine, and you finish crossing the distance between you and him, sitting next to him. The leather couch is freezing, but you hold your wince in as you motion to the Switch.

“You think you can beat my ass?” he asks. 

“I know I can.”

He smirks, leaning back on the couch. He rests his head against the backrest, turning his head towards you. “Oh, peach,” he breathes out. “You’re cute when you try to be sassy.”

You widen your gaze. “Try to be sassy! I’m serious, I’ll beat your ass.”

“In any game?” he asks, and his eyes dip to your lips.

“Mario Kart,” you say, folding your arms on your chest.

You’re wearing a thick sweater, yet it doesn’t stop Jungkook from looking down, and you know exactly what he’s seeing - you, with your legs spread wide open for him like they were yesterday.

“Winner gets head,” he says, and you really think you’re about to catch fire.

“What about Tae?”

You can’t help the question. Because you don’t want to do that to your brother, but you’ve been unable to resist. You know shame and guilt will catch up to you one day - hell, Ria will never let you live it down if she learns what’s already happened. 

Jungkook shrugs. “I don’t think it’d make any difference after yesterday.”

“So you want me to choke on your dick?”

Night and you and Jeon Jungkook really don’t mix well, do they? Because you want him. You want him so bad right now you think you’re about to go insane, yet you know you shouldn’t.

“Fuck, peach.” He chuckles. “I want to know if you taste as good as you look.”

You wet your lips, and his eyes fall to your mouth, staying there as you say, “Well then, winner gets head,” you murmur, and you think he’s about to say ‘fuck it’ and jump on you.

You really do think he won’t be able to resist, and frankly, you don’t want him to. You feel yourself leaning forward, a moth to the flame, but Jungkook clears his throat, and his eyes shoot to yours.

“Deal.”

Jungkook sets up the game, and since you can’t play multiplayer thanks to the power being out and the TV not functioning, you settle on whoever gets first place first. Which you reckon is stupid - getting first place when you’re playing against the AI isn’t really an impressive feat. 

You shiver before Jungkook starts his race, and he pauses the game to glance at you. “Do you want to go to your room?”

You cock an eyebrow. “Too excited to play here?��

He rolls his eyes, though a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “No, you’re freezing, and I figured, since your room is the smallest, if we do like yesterday, we can probably keep it warm. Or at least warmer than here.” His last words are accompanied by a vague motion of his hand encompassing the living room, and you reckon he does have a point. 

“Sure then,” you say, nodding once. 

You get up from the couch, and Jungkook quickly follows you. He’s so close, looming behind you like he’s the predator about to pounce on its prey, and you shudder with delight, warmth pooling in your lower stomach.

You think he knows. You’re convinced he does, because a few minutes later, when you’re in your room with the candles on, sitting on your bed, he leans against the wall, abandoning his Switch to the side.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s so easy to get into your bed, peach,” he teases, and you startle when one of his large hands lightly grazes your thigh.

You swat it away without an ounce of regret, even though the spot he touched feels like it’s been hit by lightning. “Are you saying I’m easy?”

His mouth falls open and he looks surprised, even maybe a little apologetic. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

The wicked smile you offer him makes him chuckle as he realizes you were teasing him, and he grabs his Switch, his brow creasing a little with the frown that adorns his features from concentrating. It’s cute. You reckon it’s adorable, and you reckon you shouldn’t feel that way about your brother’s best friend, so you push the thought as far away as you can.

It’s not like Jungkook is the kind of guy you should feel endearment for. Because you know he’d only break your heart - he’s not the most popular guy on campus for nothing, after all.

“Ready?” he tells you.

You nod. “Good luck.”

He doesn’t need it. He gets first place, and he puts his Switch down on the bed as you realize what it means.

But you’re not going to give in so easily to him, will you?

“If I get first place, too, then this doesn’t count.”

He fake-glares at you, but he shrugs. “Alright. Let’s see if you can get first place.”

The way he says it is ominous, and you gulp, cheeks flushing with pink as you grab the Switch. As per always, you choose Peach as your character, which obviously earns you a snicker from Jungkook, but you don’t mind.

Maybe because you’re starting to like when he calls you peach.

You easily start the race in the first position, Peach racing and drifting ahead of the AI-controlled characters. Jungkook shifts next to you, attracting your attention, and you almost run into a wall, thankfully recovering quickly.

It doesn’t last long. Because next time he shifts, Jungkook brushes your thigh, and you just know he has a wicked smirk on his lips without having to look at him.

“Stop,” you say through gritted teeth.

“Or what?” he purrs, and you nudge him with an elbow. He just laughs, his hand now resting flatly on your thigh. “Got trouble focusing?”

“You’re cheating,” you whine, and you’re hit by a blue shell which puts you back a few positions.

“Am I?” he breathes out.

You sigh as he leans closer to you, and his nose brushes your cheek. Instinctively, you tilt your head to the side, and he chuckles as he pushes your hair off your shoulder, before leaning even closer.

His lips ghost on your neck, and your eyes flutter close, the Switch entirely forgotten in your hands.

“Jungkook…”

His tongue darts out, tasting you, and then he sucks a hickey on your skin. “What?”

“What are you doing?” you ask, voice barely over a whisper.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about my fingers inside of you,” he says, huskily. “All fucking day.” He nibbles at your earlobe, and you let out a breathy sound that makes him chuckle again. “Just been thinking about how you’d feel on my dick too.”

“Fuck.”

“I know.” He kisses your jaw, and then pulls away, sitting back against the wall. “I think you lost.”

You open your eyes, realizing that you’re still holding the Switch. He’s right – the AIs have finished while Jungkook was teasing you, and you stare at the screen for a few seconds before meeting his gaze.

He looks victorious, happy with himself. You want to wipe the smirk off his lips, so you put down the Switch on the bed, kneeling next to him.

“So you want me to suck your dick now?” you say, voice low, and you drag a hand on his thigh.

His tongue toys with his piercings. “Well, wasn’t that the deal?”

Emboldened, you straddle his lap, and you wrap a hand around his throat for support. You feel him swallow, and you lean closer, watching as the smirk slowly disappears from his lips.

“Was it?”

He gulps. He fucking gulps, and you can’t help but bite your lower lip. Even though the room is cold, you feel warm, a tingly sensation slowly taking over your entire body. His eyes fall to your mouth, and it takes him a few seconds before he says, “Yes.”

You have him right where you want him to be. “Damn, who knew Jeon Jungkook wanted me so bad?”

You lean in, brushing your lips on his, tongue darting out to play with his piercings. He doesn’t move, doesn’t do anything, though you can tell that he wants to touch you.

Maybe because you’re perched on his erection.

“Maybe Tae should have left before, mmh?” you continue. “Maybe you wouldn’t be so desperate…”

Jungkook grabs your waist, spinning you around dizzyingly until you’re on the bed and he’s hovering over you. “Enough,” he says, voice rough.

You don’t lose the smirk. “Or what?”

He wets his lips and then leans in. “I’m going to have so much fun wiping that smirk from your lips, peach.”

“Oh, will you now?” you fire back. “Better get into action then.”

One of his hands grabs the side of your head, tightening around your hair, and he forces you to turn your head to the side. He leaves wet kisses down your neck and then moves back up to your jaw. 

“If only Tae knew how much of a slut you are,” Jungkook says. “A pretty little slut.” Your smirk wavers as he pushes your legs apart with a knee. “I wonder, are you already soaked for me, mmh?”

“Why don’t you find out?”

He chuckles darkly. “Fucking hell, you really are driving me crazy.”

And even though you shouldn’t, even though Jungkook is your older brother’s best friend, even though you know guilt will eventually catch up to you, you say, “Then act on it, JK. Show me just how crazy I’m making you feel.”

His mouth collides with yours with force, and you immediately reach up, running your hands through his hair. He sucks on your tongue, earning a moan from you, and he grunts as you pull on his hair, the soft strands feeling like silk on your fingers.

He grinds into you, and you feel the powerful length of him rub against you. You know he’ll stretch you wide open, and you want him so bad it almost hurts.

You think you’ve wanted him for months already. Yesterday, you could blame it on the alcohol, on your inhibition being altered, but today… Today you know it’s always been about the tattoos, the piercings, and the shameless flirting.

You’ve been in Jungkook’s orbit ever since September – you were bound to crash into him someday.

Jungkook pulls away to meet your gaze. The weight of his body on yours feels right – better than Hoseok’s ever felt. The thought douses you, and you think Jungkook notices.

You know he does, because he says, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Your eyes flit around his features for a time – his nose, his mouth, the mole underneath his lips, his left eye, the scar on his cheek. They eventually settle on his lip piercings. 

“Are you getting insecure?” you tease. Because it’s all that you know how to do, the only way you can think of pushing the vulnerability away.

His tongue pokes at his cheek, and he presses another searing kiss on your lips. You can’t help but moan softly as he grinds again, and you instinctively wrap your legs around him, your arms circling his neck as well.

When he pulls away next, it’s to rest his forehead against yours. You breathe the same air for a few seconds, until he says, “Consent is hot, peach. Tell me you want it, or I’m stopping now.”

“I want it, JK,” you answer. “I want you to fuck me dumb until my room isn’t cold anymore.”

Jungkook straightens, kneeling between your legs. The candles cast flickering lights on his honey skin, and you watch unblinkingly as he takes off his shirt. 

He’s beautiful. You realized that yesterday, though you didn’t see him without the shirt. But he’s truly beautiful, all muscle and delicate waist, and his skin glows golden under the light of the candles. His brown nipples are perked prettily on his chest, and you want to touch him, want to drag your hands over every powerful line of his body.

“Shit, it’s fucking cold,” he says, and he quickly bends down again. 

You grab the blankets, pulling them on top of him. Without any trace of hesitation, you rest your hands on his back, and you lightly scratch him with your nails.

“Then we better get you warmed up,” you purr.

You don’t need to say it twice. Jungkook finds your mouth again, and he grunts as you dig your nails in his skin, before releasing the pressure. He then goes down to your jaw, down your neck, and he disappears under the covers, spreading your legs wide open with his large hands.

“Can I take these off?” his muffled voice says from beneath the blankets.

You pull enough on the covers to see his face, big doe eyes awaiting your consent. “Yes.”

He smirks wickedly. “Good.”

He’s quick to rid you of your pants. He leaves your panties on, his large hands caressing your thighs as he settles between your legs. You know he’s going to eat you out, and you think you’ll go insane. But nothing could have prepared you for how much of a tease he is.

Indeed, Jungkook presses light kisses on the insides of your thighs, mouth ghosting over where you need him the most, never once giving in to your desires. You’re soaking wet, painfully so by the time you groan, hand flying to his hair as you try to push his head where you want him.

He resists, chuckling darkly. “Growing a little impatient?”

“Eat me out,” you answer breathlessly. “Fuck.”

“Why should I?” He bites the inside of your thigh. “I love watching you squirm under me.”

You whine, yet this time, he licks the wet spot on your panties. Your thighs instinctively close, and he forces them wide open again.

“Don’t move,” he orders.

You try to obey. You really do, but when he pushes your panties to the side and sucks on your clit, your back arches off the bed. 

“Jungkook,” you breathe out. 

He doesn’t answer, too busy pushing his tongue inside you, parting your folds easily. You moan, and your grip on his hair tightens, though you keep him close. And he doesn’t seem like he wants to pull away. He starts making out with your pussy, squelching sounds coming from between your legs with every swipe of his tongue.

Soon, he gets bored of pushing his tongue in and out of you, and he moves back to your clit, circling it unforgivingly. He’s good, that much you’ll admit, and when he circles your entrance with one long finger, you moan again.

“You want it?” he asks, pulling away just long enough to voice the words.

He’s right back on your clit a fraction of a second later, and he sucks on it, flicking the sensitive bud with his tongue.

You feel the orgasm. It’s still far, but it’s on the horizon of your conscience, and you know it’ll hit good once it does. So you say, “Please, Jungkook.”

He doesn’t disappoint. He pushes his finger in, arches it to rub that sweet spot inside of you in time with the motions of his tongue on your clit. You grind in his face by reflex, and he grunts against you as you do so, resting his tongue flat on your clit so that you can pleasure yourself on his face.

He must know it’s not enough. Because after a few seconds of it, he starts moving his face from side to side, and the orgasm looms closer, aiming for you at the speed of light.

It hits when Jungkook pushes a second finger in, stretching you, and your walls clench hard against his digits, though he keeps on pushing them in and out of you in a steady rhythm. He sucks on your clit as you come, and you think you’ve moaned his name at least twice by the time he finally pulls away, drying his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Shit, peach,” he says, and you watch him through the ecstasy blurring your gaze. “You taste so fucking good.”

As if he wants to show you, he captures your mouth in a kiss. You taste yourself, but you’re too fucked out to be able to agree or disagree with him. All you can do is moan in his mouth, and he swallows it with a swipe of his tongue.

 And as he keeps kissing you, keeps branding himself in your mouth, you run your hand on his body, blood boiling from the sheer strength that you know he has. You reach for the band of his sweatpants, going lower to wrap your hand around his clothed length.

He’s big and heavy in your hand. 

Mostly, he’s not wearing any underwear. Or if he is, they are extremely loose, because you’re able to wrap your fingers around him even through the sweatpants. He bucks his hips, and you tighten your hold.

“Why don’t you put that pretty hand under the clothes, mmh?” he teases against your jaw, before he goes to nibbling on your ear. “I’ve been wanting to feel it wrapped around my cock.”

You don’t hesitate. You move back up to the band of his sweatpants, and you quickly push your hand in. You sigh in delight as you find he’s not wearing any underwear, fingers grazing over the velvety softness of his length. He hisses but doesn’t say anything as you test the waters, slowly grabbing his dick.

You lightly stroke him, and he bucks his hips, trying to fuck your hand. 

“Impatient, aren’t you?” you tease him, and he bites at your jaw.

“I’ve been wanting you for a really long time, peach.”

His words make your heart pause in your chest. Because you feel like there’s a deeper meaning, like it isn’t just shameless flirting in the heat of the action. It reminds you of the kiss yesterday, of the way he’d pulled you on his lap with no other intention than to kiss you.

And it makes you tighten your grip on his dick, and he grunts as you start jerking him off faster. But it’s awkward and clumsy with the sweatpants on, so you pull your hand out after a few seconds.

“Take these off,” you say, and he immediately kneels to obey, taking off his sweatpants quickly before resuming his position between your legs.

You’re not sure you were prepared for the sight of Jeon Jungkook fully naked in your bed. Though goosebumps prick at his skin from the cold, he still looks devilish, like he’s about to drag you to hell. His dick stands proud and tall, leaking precum, and the muscles of his thighs strain against his skin. 

He’s big. And not just his dick. Jungkook works out a lot, spends hours every week at the gym, and it truly shows in every angle of him. He looks sculpted in marble, a perfect body that accentuates the beauty of his features, that contradicts the innocence of his big eyes. 

Or maybe what truly contradicts it is the way he fists his cock, jerking off quickly as he eyes you. As he stares you down, and you feel ready to go all over again just from the sight of it.

“You have condoms?” he asks, and he grunts as he keeps jerking himself off.

You have half a thought to tell him to keep going, to come all over you, but you want it too much to resist. So you motion to your night table, saying, “Bottom drawer.”

He nods appreciatively, letting go of his cock so that he can bend and rummage through the drawer until he finds the condoms. He winces as he straightens, a tinfoil package in hand.

“Pretty sure that’s going to be too tight for me.”

You roll your eyes. “Condoms stretch, you know that?”

“Not enough,” he says, flicking your nose teasingly. “But I don’t think we should go raw, so that’ll do.”

Yet, the thought of going raw with him… You grab a hold of his wrist before he’s able to start unrolling the condom on his dick, and he cocks an eyebrow as he meets your gaze.

“Are you clean?”

You see him gulp. Indeed, his throat bobs, and he tilts his head to the side. “Got tested last week,” he admits. “But I really don’t think we should go raw.”

“I’m clean.”

“You’ve been fucking that other guy,” Jungkook says.

“We always wear protection.”

Jungkook purses his lips, taking a deep breath. “Honestly peach, I think I wouldn’t last a minute if I fucked you raw right now. Let me put the condom on.”

He says it in a stern way that makes you let go of his wrist. You feel bad, wondering if you were pushing a boundary, but Jungkook doesn’t seem like he notices. Indeed, he busies himself with putting the condom on, rolling it down his dick, and he winces in pain once it’s all the way down.

“That shit’s fucking tight,” he comments, and then he positions himself between your legs again. His large hands find your thighs, and he caresses up and down once before meeting your gaze. “Are you okay?” he asks, with no lust or desire or anything other than concern for you.

Because of course, he’d notice that you’re feeling bad.

“Sorry if I was insisting…” you say, vaguely motioning to his dick.

He looks down at himself. “About the condom?” He waits for you to nod your head before he says anything else. “Peach, don’t worry about it. I’m seriously close right now, which is really fucking weird, and I just want to be able to make you feel good, m’kay?” He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You melt, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. He chuckles, mumbling against your lips, “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but you really turn me on.”

You think you know what it is. You don’t think it’s about you, or about him. It’s rather about the feeling of doing something you shouldn’t be doing. Of doing something forbidden, because he’s Taehyung’s friend, and you’re Taehyung’s younger sister. 

But you don’t say it. Instead, you whisper, “Then fuck me good, Jungkook.”

He lets out a breathy sound as he leans his forehead against yours. There’s something so intimate about the gesture that you feel your heart soaring in your chest, and then he pushes your ruined panties to the side again so that he can nudge your entrance with his dick. 

“I will,” he promises, and then he pushes in. Just his tip, yet your mouth falls open at how large he already feels, and you tighten your hold on his neck. “Let me know if it hurts.”

Unforgivingly, Jungkook slams all the way in. You let out a broken sound, and he quickly captures your lips in a kiss as he stays right there, deep inside of you, unmoving so that you can adjust around him. And you know you have a lot of adjusting to do – he’s so large it burns, yet the pain feels good. Far too good, and you easily understand how Jungkook got the reputation that he has.

When Jungkook pulls away from the kiss, he slowly pulls out, before pushing all the way in again. Your walls suck him in, and he grunts, leaning his forehead against yours once more.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You feel so fucking good.”

Before you can reply, Jungkook establishes a steady rhythm. Nothing too crazy, but the drag of his dick on your walls is making you see stars, and you softly moan as he keeps moving, never once faltering.

“Moan for me, peach,” he breathlessly says. “I want to hear you fucking screaming my name.”

And then everything changes. Jungkook kneels between your thighs, pulls your legs against his chest, and starts pounding into you, bending down just enough to hit the sweetest spot inside of you. The change of rhythm and position makes you cry out, and your walls clench around him.

He echoes your cry with a moan of his own, something breathless that makes you want to look at him, to stay with him like this forever. So you open your eyes, and the sight of him is nearly enough to make you climax right then and there. 

Yet you don’t. You don’t come as you just watch him, watch the way he’s frowning, teeth digging in his lower lip once in a while. Beads of sweat quickly appear on his temples, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t falter, not even once, as he fucks you, and you feel that familiar knot forming in your lower stomach. 

You still don’t come. You keep it in – you don’t know why. You just enjoy the moment, refusing to rush towards its ending. Instead, when Jungkook pushes your legs open so that he can bend down and kiss you again, you welcome him in. You wrap your legs tight around him, keeping him close, and you scratch at his back with one hand, the other getting lost in his hair.

He grunts in your mouth, and he finally switches the rhythm, aiming for harder yet slower. It makes him reach new depths, and you can’t help but moan loudly as he keeps going, keeps ramming into you.

For the first time ever since you moved here, your bed slams into the wall from the force of Jungkook’s thrusts. It’s hot, especially as he moves to your neck, sucking hard. 

“Best fucking pussy,” he says in your ear. “Fuck.”

And then he straightens again, forcing you to let go of him, before pulling out. You whine at the sudden loss of sensation, but he just looks down at your pussy, licking his lips at the sight.

“You’re so fucking creamy and wet,” he tells you. “Look at my cock.”

You obey, looking down to where your bodies almost meet. His dick is indeed covered with your juices, and Jungkook gently pushes it between your folds, collecting even more juice. It’s sinful, inherently so, and you moan lightly as he rubs his dick on your clit.

“Think you’ll be able to come for me again?” he asks.

You look up, meeting his gaze. His lips are slightly parted as he breathes in and out quickly, and he smirks wickedly as you nod, once.

“Make me come,” you say, finding some defiance in you again. “You think you’ll be able to do that for me?”

His gaze widens, and then he chuckles. “Fuck peach.” He chuckles again, slightly shaking his head. “I’m going to get addicted to this fucking pussy of yours.”

You whine as he moves from between your legs, lying down on his back. You shoot him a look, and he motions at his body as if in invitation. It makes you laugh, yet you still climb on top of him, grinding on his dick.

His eyes go to your chest, and he gently grabs the hem of your shirt. Even though it’s still cold in your room – though warmer than before – you quickly take off your shirt, wincing as the cold air hits you head on. 

“So pretty,” Jungkook praises, and his hands reach up to push your breasts together. “So fucking pretty.”

You blush slightly under the praise, and you’re about to sink on his dick when he stops you. Your eyes go wide, and he motions to your panties.

“Take these off too. I want to see all of you.”

He says it with so much reverence for you that you can’t say no. You can only obey, sitting next to him just long enough so that you can remove the panties. They are soaked, and you throw them towards the dirty clothes hamper before climbing back on top of Jungkook.

Your gazes meet, and there’s a moment of you watching each other. You wish you could read his gaze, wish you could know what it means when he grabs your wrists to pull you down. Your eyes never disconnect from his, not even as one of his hands goes between your bodies so that he can align his dick with your entrance.

And then he pushes up, pushes in. As if you forgot just how big he is, you moan, eyes fluttering shut on instinct. Jungkook grunts, wrapping his arms around your waist, before saying, “Look at me.”

You do. You meet his gaze again and try to hold it as he starts jackhammering into you, the new angle so good you feel like you’re slowly slipping out of your body, soaring towards the sky outside. It’s so good all you can think about is him, his body, the way that he holds you so gently yet fucks you so rough. You rest one hand on the side of his face as he keeps fucking you, and when you can’t resist anymore, you hide your face in his neck.

“You’re such a good girl,” Jungkook says. “You take me so fucking well.” He grunts loudly, slamming to the hilt. You think he’s coming, but then he pulls almost all the way out, before slamming in again. “I never want to stop fucking you.”

You moan, and then your lips ghost on the shell of his ear. Though you’ve been struggling to speak, you say, “You’re so fucking big.”

“I know,” he breathes out. “Let me know if I hurt you.”

You whine. “Never. You’d never hurt me.”

His grip on you tightens, like he’s trying to say he wouldn’t hurt you, wouldn’t be able to, and then he’s fucking you again. The knot in your stomach comes back in full force, especially as he starts whispering filthy praises in your ear, growing more breathless with every swipe of his hips.

Just when you think you’ll come, Jungkook grunts, “I’m going to c-“

He never finishes his sentence, but the feeling of his dick twitching inside of you as he stills deep inside makes you fly over the edge, and your walls start spasming around his cock, milking his orgasm. It feels far too good, like you’ve reached nirvana, and it takes you so long to come down from your high that you believe you never will.

But you do. You do, and the first thing you notice is the cold. Though it’s a lot warmer than it was when you started this whole ordeal, you still shiver. 

Jungkook gently pulls a blanket over you, before circling your waist again. He doesn’t let go, not even as his dick, now soft, slips out of you. He lets you lay on top of him, ear against his chest so that you listen to his heartbeat, refusing to move.

You don’t want anything to pop this bubble of peace. Never. You just want to stay here with him, content breathing in the same air as him, until eternity flashes in front of you. Until you grow old and grey, to go to sleep forever. It’s a powerful feeling, though you like to tell yourself that it’s mutual. That his heart, beating softly in his chest, beats for you, in time with the beats of your own heart. You hope that he, too, doesn’t want to let go, though you reckon that this probably was just a hook-up to him, something he’ll be proud of, yet keep to himself. Because wouldn’t Jungkook be the kind of guy to be proud he bagged the little sister? You think he would.

And the thought scares you more than you would ever dare to admit.

Prev | Chapter 4.5 | Next

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Is it me or is it hot in here? oof- Let me know what you thought of this chapter! I hope that smidge of angst at the end doesn't scare you too much...... bc trust me it scares me OOP

All rights reserved to@/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[plutoswritingplanet]

It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt.3

a/n: so i lied about this being the last chapter, there's one more, i know im sorry....... also shout out to my friends, who were unbelievably helpful with the smut part because oh, there's smut here

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (yuuuh yuuuuuuh), Alcohol, like....a tiny bit of Humiliation.

Summary: The month-long courting comes to an end with a bang! As your engagement party commences, wine flows and darker feelings rise to the surface

Pt. 1, Pt.2 Pt.4 (finale)

In the darkness of the night, he still comes to you in your dreams, knife in hand, body taunt and ready to strike. Every single morning, you awake with a gasp, as visions of your tormentor plague you. In some, he slits your throat, reveling in the way red cascades down your nightgown. Other times, it's a quick and brutal stabbing, your insides twisting as you wake. 

But then, there are those rare nights where you rise from your bed, sweat clinging to your skin, as you fight with the pressure in your stomach, try to rid yourself of the images, before making yourself presentable for breakfast. 

Those dreams, nightmares, are the worst. 

White, elegant fingers, grabbing, pulling, pinching every surface of your exposed skin. Defined arms around you, squeezing your pliant body in an embrace that is as tender and romantic, as a snake suffocating its victim. Deceivingly soft lips, mapping a trail down your front, pulling back to reveal teeth, which make that same trail visible, hurting.

In those dreams, he paints you with black. Taints you, until you're molded into his perverse image, until there's no telling where he ends, and you begin. He makes you into a sculpture, in a way that an artist cuts away pieces of clay, slowly robbing you of all agency, until there's only what he wants to see. And you let him, with a trembling smile on your lips, hands twisted into the stained sheets of your bed. 

Ignoring him has become an art form as well.

Since your faithful tangle at the training barracks, you did everything in your power, to never appear in the same room as him, or at least, never alone. You became a shadow in your own home, a whisper of the person you used to be. Shame is a powerful thing, and you wore it like a wedding veil over your face. Paul would always help you, silently. Never asking outright what had happened between you and the Harkonnen, but somehow always knowing. Your brother, your salvation, breaks your heart everytime he grabs your hand, and leads you away from the predator in the room.

The date of your engagement party has been set a week into the future. The nervous bustling of the court only heightening your already wracked thoughts, as the inevitability of your situation begins to haul you to the ground. 

Your Mother took most of the preparations on her back, directing the servants, the kitchen, the musicians. She picked out a dress for you, some flowing abomination, which hung in your closet, reminding you every morning, that you will have to wear it with a smile. You hoped, there will be wine at the feast, hope that it will be sweet enough to dull your insides. 

As the date of the feast comes closer and closer, you begin to spend more time outside. 

The air is crisp and smells of seawater, and you can't help but inhale fully, every time. You want it seared into your brain, so whenever you're taken away from your home, you can run back to this memory, to the feel of grass under your fingers. 

- You'll catch a cold, if you keep sitting here.

Paul's voice brings you back from your dark thoughts, and you look up, from your spot in the grass. He stands a couple paces back, hands folded behind his back in a manner, that is reminding you of your Father more and more every day. 

- Do you want to join me? - you ask, your lips quirking up into a small smile - Or would you prefer to stand there like a pillar of salt?

Your brother shakes his head, before coming closer and plopping down next to you, his skinny legs stretched out in front of him. The both of you sit in silence for a while, enjoying the breeze ruffling your hair, the smell of ocean and the waves crashing into the cliffs. There are seagulls flying over your heads, and you feel the moisture from the grass seep into your clothing. 

A wistful sigh escapes you, before you can stop it, and you let yourself fall, laying flat on the hill. 

Paul looks down at you, undescribable sadness swimming in his eyes, and an instinct of sister awakes in you, a need to comfort, despite being a wreck yourself. So, you offer him a smile, a tired one, but a smile nonetheless. 

- Do you think we could take the horses for a ride today? - your brother asks with naive hope, his eyes turning to the sea.

- Mother won't allow me to go, she wants me to spend my pondering the proper behavior during the feast - try as you might, you can't hide the bitterness in your voice - Besides, I could fall off and hurt the merchandising. 

Paul's hand finds yours, and he squeezes your fingers tightly. It's hard not to break, in moments like these. When you're forced to remember, you'll most likely never see your family again. 

- If I could do something, anything... - you recognize that feverish note in your brother's voice, it's devoid of reason, impulsive, too much like you.

- But you can't, so you won't.

A frustrated sound escapes his mouth, and he turns back to the sea. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, eyelashes falling heavily on your cheeks. He looks like a Duke, you conclude, and that thought feels strangely comforting. No matter where you'll be shipped off, no matter what life has in store for you in the future, somehow, you know your brother will persevere. 

- Do you remember that time Gurney made us train on the beach? - you ask, a sudden wave of nostalgia washing over you, as the clouds float in the sky above you - Cause of the... The balance. We had to try to balance in the sand.

Paul twists his head towards you, surprised at the turn of the conversation, before cracking a smile. 

- Yes, he slipped on the rocks, nearly broke his backbone - he starts to wave his hands around in a wonderful reenactment of your mentor's fall, before collapsing next to you in the grass.

Your laughter mingles with the sounds of the sea, as the both of you, the future of House Atriedes, share memories, scenes from the life you've lived together. The good and the bad. The horse races through plains and hills of Caladan, the many, many food fights. It's hard to tell, how much time you spend together, laying in the grass, but when you finally fall into silence, the air has become considerably more chilly. A sign, it's time to return to reality, to your duties. 

- You should've been me, and I you - Paul whispers suddenly, and you close your eyes in a pained expression. 

Perhaps it's true. Perhaps Lady Jessica made a mistake, and gave a Daughter where she should've given a Son. Now, it's no longer important. Your roles have been set in place, all you could do, is fulfill them. Somewhere back, in the direction of the Palace you can hear a voice calling your names. A reminder, that the world outside this grassy sanctuary exists, and can't wait any longer. 

You move to stand, Paul gathering himself up closely behind. Your clothes stick to your body, and you're shivering from the cold, but if you could spend just one more moment exactly like that, you would've taken that chance without question. 

An arm snakes around your elbow, and you lean onto your brother's shoulder, as you start to walk back, steps swaying like a pair of drunkards. Then, Paul tugs you closer, you can feel him tense suddenly, as he leans with a sullen expression on his pale face.

- I hate the way he looks at you - he confesses, waves upon waves of righteous Atriedes fury crashing in his voice.

You don't know how to respond to that, so you stay silent, giving his arm a reassuring tug.

That was the last conversation you've had with your brother.

*** While the House Atriedes is characterized by a rather mellow temper, there was one thing they took extremely seriously. And those, unfortunately for you, were engagement rituals. 

So, that's why you sit posed like a porcelain doll in a deep chair, next to your soon-to-be husband, at the foot of a long table, surrounded by music, and dancing, and food. There are ribbons hung from the high ceilings, and flickering lights float around them like little fireflies. You watch, as they dance above you, the ridiculous headdress placed on your hair digs into your skul. Color surrounds you, your own dress flowing like a waterfall, elegant, yet delicate. The pools of fabric gather around your legs, a chiffon monstrosity, that you know, is supposed to make you beautiful. 

And perhaps you would've felt beautiful, if this was any other occasion. A birthday feast, perhaps. Dare you say, and engagement party with someone you actually loved. 

Speaking of which, your betrothed sits beside you, sticking out like a sore thumb. He looks utterly bored, eyes following the celebrating masses, hand playing with a steak knife. Not enough blood for his tastes, you suppose. He's dressed in traditional Harkonnen attire, which you think, doesn't really look that much different from all the other outfits you've seen him in. Black, sleek, efficient. You must be a curious pair, a mass of colorful materials and a black-stone pillar. 

The wine, thankfully, is sweet. It warms your face, and turns your insides into a pleasant mush. You should've eaten more, but then again, it was a celebration of your imprisonment, and if you wanted to get drunk, you would. And you did get drunk. Quickly. 

The dress moves with you, as you slowly slide down the chair, one leg resting up on the seat. A frightfully unbecoming sight, but you can't find it in yourself to care. Another, clumsy drink from your cup, and you sigh deeply, blinking a couple of times to rid yourself of sudden dizziness. 

Your betrothed gives you a look, whether it's of warning or amusement, you're not sure. And you don't care. Your nose scrunches in the general direction of his smooth head, and you take another sip, just to spite him.

- Shut up - you grumble, a slurr entering your words.

- I haven't said a word - he counters, and this time you can see him smile.

- You're thinking, it's annoying.

Feyd Rautha has an unpleasant laugh. 

Sharp and low, and very rough around the edges. It's like listening to an old spaceship try to take off, and you're sure you don't want to hear him laugh ever again. That's it, your goal in this, frankly, fucked up marriage, will be to never make your husband laugh. Although, it's best not to think about it so loudly, he might be a hidden mind reader, and would most likely laugh in your face every day, just to torture you. 

God. You were going to regret every sip come tomorrow morning.

- You're wrapped like a present - Feyd Rautha leans down with a smirk playing on his full lips, and you have to crane your neck to look him straight in the face - Shall I unwrap you here, while your family watches?

Despite the light tone, you shiver under his gaze. Something in the way his body seems relaxed yet tense at the same time tells you, this shameless man would do it in a heartbeat, if you as much as inclined your head. 

- Gross - you groan, hand untangling itself from the amassing of chiffon to push back at his face.

It's the first time, you've touched him out of your own volition, and even in your drunken daze, you note the sudden glint in his eyes. Fingers grab at your wrist, keeping you in place, as he leans further into your touch, turning his head slightly. Wine mixes with sudden embarrassment, as his lips brush against the meat of your palm. Then, black teeth shine and your heart jumps to your throat, as he bites down on your skin, hard enough to make you jump. Tongue darts out, licking a stripe up your thumb, before giving your fingertip a tiny nibble.

You tear your hand away from him, pressing it into your chest with an appalled expression. There are indents just below your thumb in the shape of his teeth, and the confounding feelings you've been trying to stoke for almost a month now, come crashing down upon you.

He looks satisfied with himself, returning back to his seat, and his steak knife. The utensil reflects the flowing lights, and despite yourself you swallow thickly, turning back to your cup, which is quickly becoming empty.

God, it was getting incessantly hot in this cursed dining hall. 

Whether it was the wine, or the sudden wave of knee-bending arousal washing through you, you couldn't tell. (It was both, you were fully aware it was both) And you're uncomfortable, terribly so. You fidget in your seat, almost painfully aware of the heat, which has now spread further down. The fabric of the dress slides against your body, skin becoming far too sensitive, too hungry for touch. You try to relieve some of your torment, legs squeezing and rubbing together. Treacherous tongues of self-awareness rear its ugly heads, and you look up, and...

Of course he noticed. 

Feyd Rautha places his chin in his hand, and he observes you with a knowing look, which turns dark and terrifying as soon as your eyes meet.

- Careful, lest the court starts talking - he warns you, his voice somehow becoming deeper than before, and you take a shuddering breath.

Dagnerous, this is dangerous.

 You're seated far away from your family, from any consolation, and even if they were close enough to intervene, the masses of dancing people, the sound of their laughter... Your heart stops, a snake curling itself around your insides. Truly, if that beast of a man wanted to, he could make do of his threat from earlier, and take you where you sit. Haunted by that thought, both terrifying and arousing, you down the rest of your wine. 

It doesn't taste as good anymore. Hell, it threatens to come back up, until you force it to sit in your stomach. 

Duncan, you need to find Duncan, or you'll do something incredibly stupid. You'll do something incredibly stupid either way, but at least the regret will be less biting. So, pulling yourself up on trembling arms, you shuffle out of your chair, your betrothed's heated gaze following you on your way through the hall. 

People don't even look at you, too enraptured with free food and drinks, and the music, which flows loudly through the air. Good, in any other case, the Duke's Daughter, stumbling drunk through corridors, would certainly lift some eyebrows. Your feet carry you towards the training barracks, a familiar route you've followed many times. Indulging in sex with your Father's most trusted advisor was not the healthiest form of regulating emotions, but you needed something, and God knows, you'd rather die than get it from anyone else. From Him especially.

The choice is made for you, however, as a strong hand wraps itself around your arm, just above your elbow, yanking you backwards, behind a stone column. The world spins in front of your eyes, and for a second you worry the company of wine warming your insides is about to abandon you along with breakfast. 

- Do you truly thought, you could sneak away from me?

Finally, your eyes focus on Fey Rautha's face, almost demonic in the low light of the corridor. Shadows play on his expression, falling heavily over his eyes, and you try to wrench yourself from his grasp.

- What I do is none of your business - you slurr out, wringing your arm every which way, his fingers digging painfully into your flesh - Let go of me.

The Harkonnen presses himself closer to you, trapping your body between the stone and himself. His nose nearly crushes itself into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, taking a disturbing long whiff. You can feel his chest vibrate against your own, as he groans deep within his throat. It sobers you up in record speed, and you start to thrash in his hold. He subdues your outburst, as if he was made for it, before dragging his nose up, towards your hair. You snarl like a wild animal.

- Let me go. 

His body moves on its own accord, tearing itself away from you in an instant, legs tripping over themselves, to put distance between your bodies. He looks up at you, muscles tense and an expression of shock painted across his pale face. 

The ability to use the Voice was something you rarely took part in. Training sessions with your Mother went well, as expected of a woman, but you still had a lot of work ahead of you. You blink forcefully, steadying yourself against the wall behind you. Then, you notice the borderline murderous look on your soon-to-be husband's face.

- Witch - he spits out, baring his blackened teeth at you.

- I am the Daughter of Duke Atriedes - your voice carries a note of righteous pride, despite dread climbing up your spine - And you will treat me with respect, wedded or not.

He straightens himself with petrifying speed, and as he takes a step towards you, actions overtake reflection. Your hand winds back, and you bring a resounding slap across his sharp cheekbone. While your palm blooms with pain, he seems to barely react, closing the distance between the two of you after a tense beat. Before you have a chance to react again, his hands grab at your face, and his lips crash against yours in a punishing kiss.

Teeth clink together and the momentum of the kiss makes your head collide with the stone pillar behind you. He's fingers dig into your cheeks and your jaw, as he devours you completely, bringing down all your defences in one swoop. You kiss him back, almost immediately, opening your mouth to let him in, to meet his tongue halfway. It's almost grotesque, how much you hate and love this at the same time, the buzzing of the wine mixing with the sound of your racing heart, with the sound of his unabashed sounds of pleasure. 

Hands flail at your sides, as you grab all you can take, pulling him even closer by the thick fabric of his tunic. 

His hands however, know exactly what they want, and as he lets go of your face, they both sink down. Fingers hook into the neckline of your dress, and he tears it down, your entire body swaying with the force of his movement. Your breasts are freed for only just a moment, cold air hitting them in a way that would be uncomfortable, if they weren't immediately covered by your betrothed's large palm. He palms at your chest, as if he wants to crush it, and you bite back a whine, which threatens to spill from your abused lips. 

- Don't - he growls a warning, unoccupied hand tangling itself within your hair - Sing.

And you do. As his mouth descends upon your neglected breast, where he alternates between licks and bites that make your back fly off the wall. Once again you don't know what to do with your hands, finding them entirely useless in the Harkonnen's overpowering grasp. One, grabs at his shoulder, undecided on whether to push him off, or pull him in closer. The other one scratches four lines into his skull, as he sucks on the sensitive skin under your ribs. 

Finally, he detaches from you completely, standing straight and regarding you with a look so intensely ravenous, it shakes you to your core. Your exposed chest rises and falls in tandem with your heaving breaths, and you shiver, as cold air hits your skin. His gaze drinks in your dissheveled hair, the way your lips are puffy and red. A beautiful sight for his blackened eyes. 

- I know who you went looking for - he starts, stalking towards you once again - Can't have that, can I?

You debate feigning confusion, outrage at such accusation, which hasn't really been uttered yet. But, as Feyd Rautha stops just short of the bottom hem of your dress, you suddenly find yourself unable to speak. Instead, as a last ditched effort to rid yourself of him, your hand extends, a half-hazard attempt at liberation. He swats it away, as one would a mere fly, before sinking to his knees in front of you. 

- Lift up your dress, Viper - his voice is like thunder in your ears, and you bite your lips at the sight of his eyes, dark and surprisingly eager.

Hands move clumsily in an effort to gather all those translucent layers. You nearly trip over yourself, earning a rather nasty chuckle from below. As soon, as your legs are visible, he dives between the chiffon, his head dissapearing from sight. You can feel his lips, traveling up the expanse of your calf, giving a light bite under your knee. 

Anticipation siezes your gut, and you grab onto the wall, as if that would save you. His hands grab your leg, skin incredibly warm to the touch for someone who looks so cold, and then, with forceful tugs, he starts to manouver you. 

You let out an unbecoming squeak, as he yanks your leg over his shoulder. Strong hands keep you in place, and he reaches out around the upper part of your thigh to all but tear your undergarments off of your core. The force of this action makes you jump in place on your one available leg, just to hold your balance, and for a second you consider swatting at him. 

That thought leaves you almost immediately after it appears, as an onslaugh of kitten licks unleashes downward. A vague, head like shape moves under your dress, the chiffon floating from place to place like a hypnotizing river. The wine must've heightened your senses to an alarming degree, because as soon as Feyd Rautha begins his ministrations, you're a mess. 

It's honestly humiliating, the way you fight for any purchase on the wall behind you, as he begins to lick in earnes, parting your legs further with one hand, while the other wraps securely around your used leg. While there, he cops a feel of your behind, fingers biting into the soft flesh, and you lock your lower lip between your teeth so hard, you can taste blood on your tongue.

As if he's developed some new telepathic talents, his hand leaves your ass, in favor of winding up, and slapping it harshly. The action makes your jump in place once again, a sound stuck between outrage and glee fleeing your throat, before you have the chance to stop it. Right, "sing", you remind yourself, and immediately feel him change his tactics. 

Your bundle of nerves opens new possibilities of torment, and as his lips close around the bud, you can't help the whine, escaping through your lips. The music is loud, you remind yourself. They won't hear, no one will hear. His hand pushes your dangling leg further up your shoulder, and your back arches from the stone. You will be sore as all hell after this is done, but for now, it doesn't matter. Nothing really matters, except the way your betrothed eats you out, like a man who's been starved for decades.

- Oh shit - you curse, hands flailing uselessly - Oh fuck!

All of a sudden, everything stops, and your building peak subsides into a dissatisfactory simmer. Feyd Rautha's head emerges from under the fabric, a terrible, shit-eating grin on his wet lips.

- Such language? - he teases, tongue darting out to lap at your arousal - So unbecoming of a-...

- Fucking don't stop! - there's panic in your movements, as you grab the back of his head, and shove him right under your dress again.

The laughter should be unsettling for you, but he returns to his post with twice as much motivation, and however more strength, and before you know it, your orgasm sneaks upon you. A sudden tightness in your core is all the warning you get, before the coil snaps, and your entire body starts to spasm in pleasure. 

It's good. Incredibly so. You'd risk saying it's the most intense you've ever came, but never out loud, never to him. That shameful secret was between you and whatever God that was listening. Stars erupt behind your eyelids, your breathing stopping for just a moment. 

And then you go deliciously limp, legs giving out completely. 

To his credit, the Harkonnen catches you before you hit the floor, the arm curling around your leg proving to be an unmeasurable support. His head emerges from under the dress once again, and he lets you slide down the wall, until you're seated. He sways on the balls of his feet, still towering you, even as he crouches. 

You swallow, throat slightly raw from all the noise you've done moments ago, and he follows the movements of your neck muscles with greedy eyes. Still greedy, after taking so much. Truly, he was a Harkonnen. And before you can stop yourself, a thought materializes in your brain, a treacherous little information, which would shake you to the core, if your muscles weren't currently made of taffy.

He blushes pink. Your betrothed blushes pink, from the exercise of making you cum on his tongue alone. God, what a precious sight.

He must've noticed the serene smile playing upon your lips, and his nature to ruin comes to light. His hand reaches back, and you freeze in your spot, as you recognize that damned golden steak knife. The blade shines in the dimly lit corridor, making your breathing faster, questions swimming behind your eyes. You don't really want to fight him in this state, but you fucking will, if he tries anything. 

- An engagement present, for you, Viper. - he rasps, licking his reddened lips in an obscene display, which doesn't repulse you quite as much as it should. 

- I have nothing to give in return - your voice is stern, and your betrothed flashes you an evil grin.

Then, he presents you the tip of the knife, golden utensil hanging between his slender fingers, and you look up at him, not understanding what is expected of you. Placing one knee on the floor, Feyd Rautha lowers himself to your eye level, for the hundredth of times surprising you with the sheer grace in his movements. 

- Kiss - he whispers, into the space between the both of you.

Your eyes fall to the knife, then, to him and you take a long, deep breath. Pride, your biggest flaw, takes a deadly hit, as the man twists the knife in his fingers, looking at you expectedly. You hate him, truly and deeply, and it must be showing on your face, because he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, as soon as your eyes meet. 

Swallowing your pride, you keep his gaze, leaning towards the blade. Your lips press delicately against the cool metal and the Harkonnen flashes you a nasty, self-satisfied smirk, before slipping the knife up his sleeve and standing up. 

- I'll see you back at the feast - he gives you a small bow, and you press your lips tightly together.

- Fuck you.

- After the wedding, my Viper.

And with that, he turns around.

 You're left there, on the floor, your dignity in shambles, the exertion catching up to you all at once, as if his presence alone was the only thing keeping you from feeling pain. A stupid thought, you chastize yourself, before slowly pulling yourself from the cold tiles. 

It takes you a couple of shameful minutes, trying to put yourself back together again. The ridiculous headdress, which has slipped all the way down from your hair, will probably never look the same, as when your Mother has styled it, but you can't find it in yourself to care. 

The music still plays, as you enter the hall, and thankfully, no one notices your arrival. No one but your betrothed, who raises his drinking cup in your direction, as if nothing had happened. His face is annoying, you conclude, and turn away, your aching legs taking you towards the center of the room, where people danced and sang in celebration of your engagement. What a lovely sight, what a lovely couple. Opposites attract, right?

Bitter, aching and humiliated, you throw yourself into the crowd, let it sway you from place to place, as you dance away this whole wretched week. The whole month-long courting rituals, which were just a bullshit attempt at torture. 

It's said, that when Death comes to take your soul, you're allowed one more dance before the eternal void. 

So you dance.