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harryspet · 3 months ago

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well kept [4] r. cameron

[warnings] dark!ceo!rafe x reader, size difference, billionaire!older!rafe, shy!reader with low self-esteem, reader is a person who stutters, boss x personal assistant, heavy abuse of power, emotional/mental manipulation, DUBCON/NONCON, corporal punishment, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: longest chapter yayyyy :):)

word count: 4.9k

In which Rafe's control pushes you to the brink of ecstasy and beyond.

well kept masterlist

Rafe Cameron could handle his liquor, you learned that quickly. After accompanying him to a few dinner parties and watching him down several shots of whiskey before finishing an entire pitcher of beer, you wondered how he maintained his physique. He never slurred his words or stumbled, he seemed entirely happier when he was drinking, a completely different person.

He’d forced you to drink a cocktail and that quickly made you feel wobbly. The nights were a blur of conversations and you were tethered to reality by the feeling of Rafe’s hand on your lower back. He never introduced you as his assistant to his rich friends. You were just Y/N. “She’s cute, yeah?” He would say to people. Usually your dress was way too short or your cleavage was spilling from your top. Unfortunately, you sipped your drink when you were nervous.

You were exhausted by the end of the night and a little tipsy though you hadn’t dared to drink nearly as much as he did.

“C’mon, I’ll take you home,” He’d said, hand on your waist as he guided you out of the restaurant. Sometimes it made you feel protected. Like Rafe could hurt you, sure, but at least no one else could.

“Should you be driving?” You’d mistakenly asked, words slipping out before you could stop them. He took it as a challenge to his manhood and the look on his face made you regret it.

“I’m fine,” He’d looked at you sharply before he commanded, “Get in the fucking car.”

You didn’t hesitate any longer and let him him help you into the passenger side of his truck. He kept his eyes focused on the road, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel, and you hoped he wasn’t angry, maybe just deep in thought.

When he pulled up to your apartment complex, you fumbled for the door handle, eager to escape the tension. But before you could step out, Rafe’s hand was on your arm.

“I’m coming up,” he stated firmly.

“It’s a weeknight,” you said, trying to find a reason that would convince him otherwise. “My roommates are probably asleep by now.”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “I’ll be quiet,” a hint of his boozed up charm returned to his voice. Reluctantly, you led him upstairs.

When you opened the door, you were surprised to find your roommates, Imani and Angel, still awake, standing in the kitchen with a bottle of wine between them. Their laughter filled the small apartment. Their expressions shifted to complete shock at the sight of Rafe behind you. You smiled, trying to give the impression that all was well, that it was completely normal to be returning to your apartment with your drunk, billionaire boss.

Imani, with her flawless olive complexion and neatly styled curls, scrutinized the scene with furrowed brows. Beside her, Angel stood tall and vibrant, her unruly tight curls escaping their single hair tie, her mouth agape in astonished silence as she stared at you. Both much more beautiful than you, a sad thought crossed your mind, and you worried for a short millisecond that Rafe would realize he’d made a mistake in picking you.

“Hey,” You did you best to sound casual, “Rafe, this is Imani and Angel. Imani, Angel, this is Rafe.”

“Your boss, Rafe?” Imani asked incredulousy, her arms crossing over her faded band tee. “I don’t understand-”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Cameron,” Angel blurted out, practically bouncing on her bare feet, “Can I offer you a drink? We both had a shitty day so we whipped out the strawberry moscato.”

“It’s nice to meet you guys. And thanks, tempting offer but I’m quite satisfied at the moment,” His voice was smooth and effortlessly disarming. He placed a hand on your waist, pulling you into him, and your eyes widened, “I’m just here to make sure Y/N gets a good night’s rest.”

Both Imani and Angel looked at you with a mixture of shock and curiosity. Imani’s eyes, in particular, were sharp and disapproving, clearly questioning how you had kept this from her. Her gaze was heavy with the unspoken question: How could you be involved with Rafe and not have told her?

“Make yourself at home,” Angel said, clearly more excited than angry, and Imani’s intense gaze snapped to her, “I’m about to make popcorn and we’re about to watch a movie if you guys-”

“Angel,” Imani whispered harshly, “Leave them alone.”

“I’m j-j-just gonna, uhm, goodnight, guys,” You took Rafe’s arm and led him away from the tension filled kitchen to the narrow hallway that led to your bedroom. You felt he weight of Imani’s disapproval lingering in the air.

Your small apartment that you shared with two other people was a stark contrast to the luxurious settings you’d been in over the last few weeks. As Rafe’s eyes wandered over your tiny room, the awkwardness of the situation continued to build.

“This is …cozy,” He said after you shut the door. He was already taking off his suit jacket and undoing his cuff links. Was Rafe Cameron really going to spend the night here with you? Maybe he was drunker than you thought. “So this is where you unwind after a long day of dealing with me?”

Was that humor you heard in his voice? Dealing with him. You more than dealt with Rafe Cameron. You practically let him walk you around on a leash.

“Do you feel bad for me yet?” You tried to joke but there was too much animosity in your tone.

He chuckled before starting to undo his belt, “I try not to feel bad for other people. Life’s easier that way. Sides’, this won’t be your life for much longer.”

As he stripped down to his underwear, he started to settle into your bed, the lines between your professional and personal worlds now blurrier than ever.

“I wasn’t expecting t-t-t-t … to have company tonight,” You said, gathering his pile of clothes from your carpet and doing your best to fold them and place them neatly on top of your dresser.

“I’m full of surprises, sweetheart,” He winked as he folded his arms behind his head, and you had to avert your eyes from his statue-esque physique. Broad shoulders, thick arms and chest, and abs that acted like an arrow that pointed down to his … “Plus, I wanted to see where you lived.”

“Now you see I d-d-don’t have sss-space for all my new work outfits,” You started to undress now, realizing there was no way out of this long night except by sleeping. You kicked off your heels, placing them neatly at the bottom of your closet. You put an oversized t-shirt on and used it to cover your body as you slipped off your mini-dress.

“Yeah, I see that now. It’s like a shoebox in here,” You shot him an offended look and he smiled stupidly, “It’s cute.”

“You sss-say that word a lot,” You mumbled before finding a pair of fuzzy socks and taking a seat at the very edge of your bed, bending over to slip them on.

“C’mere,” he patted the spot next to him and you hesitated.

He wouldn’t, you thought, not while your roommates were on the other side of a paper thin wall. But he would, you remember, Rafe Cameron would do that. He already had the gall to walk into your apartment with his hand on your waist despite being the one who paid your salary. He would do it and you’d let him because you had no spine.

“Y/N?” You pinched your eyes shut for a brief moment before you inevitable crawled into the spot next to him. You’d never really laid next to him in bed and it wasn’t what you were expecting. Even on his side, laying down, his presence enveloped you. You felt small like you usually did. He easily pressed himself to you, impossibly strong arms pulling your fronts together.

“You hhh-have to be quiet,” You whispered.

“I’m not the loud one,” He chuckled, warm breath tickling your shoulder and making you shiver. He placed a kiss there, one arm wrapped around your back and pulling you closer while the other tickled over the skin on your bare thigh, “I could fuck you so slow, so gentle, and I’m sure you’d be screaming.”

“No,” You argued though you weren’t sure why.

“No? You think you could stay quiet?” A excruciatingly soft and wet kiss was placed on your collarbone.

Your breath hitched in your throat, “I’m sss-sserious, Rafe.”

“So informal,” He shook his head, the hand that was on your thigh started to peel up your shirt. To your surprise, Rafe ducked inside the fabric of your shirt, beginning to burrow his head into your breast, “My fucking favorite place on your cute, little body.”

He seemed to groan, something animalistic, placing kisses along your skin. His breath tickled your nipples and you tried to pull away. He flips you fully onto your back, pinning you with his weight, his mouth threatening to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You couldn’t take it, “Okay, okay, y-yess,” You rushed out, “I c-couldn’t stay quiet. You’re right.”

You look down to watch him pop his head out from under your shirt, “Yeah?”

“Yes,” You nodded, “I-I admit it. Please.”

“Please stop? Please fuck you quietly?” Rafe teased you, “You’re not adding sir to the end of your sentences so it gets kinda hard to understand–”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” You pleaded with him through your eyes, “Please …fuck me quietly, Sir.”

“That’s better,” He pulled your shirt over your breasts before he completely devoured them.

The next time Rafe decided to have sex with you was two weeks later, right as he walked into his office. You should’ve known by the outfit he had chosen for you. The white blouse had an air of professionalism, but the plaid, pleated skirt barely reached mid-thigh, making you certain the entire elevator caught a glimpse of your underwear when you dropped your notebook that morning.

It felt like he’d been teasing you up until that point. You'd lost track of how many times he made you orgasm in front of him during those two weeks. He had an insatiable fascination with watching you pleasure yourself, wanting you completely vulnerable, often in compromising positions, with your eyes locked on his the moment it happened. Whether it was on top of his desk, against the office window, or bent over a coffee table, you were starting to grow comfortable with being uncomfortable.

He couldn’t resist touching you, making you grind against him, or rapidly moving his fingers in and out of you until you were shaking. However, he had managed up until that point to not actually fuck you. It was getting to the point you found yourself pouting at him from your desk as you watched him complete his daily meetings.

You didn’t have a chance to get out your usual spiel about his meetings for the day because his briefcase was already on the ground, and his arms were wrapped around your backside as he carried you over to his desk, “Take off your panties,” He commanded after setting you on his desk. He stepped back, fumbling with his belt and zipper, “Now, sweetheart. C’mon.” He said and you realized you clearly weren’t moving fast enough for him.

Your panties weren’t even around your knees before he was lifting up your legs and pulling them off the rest of the way. He parted your legs, immediately dipping his fingers into you, “You’re already wet,” It was just an observance. No smile or smirk or evidence that he was at all pleased with the revelation, “Desperate little girl. You been thinking about me, yeah?”

You stared up at his lips, pink and parted and imagined them on yours, his soft stubble tickling the skin of your mouth. Why wasn’t he kissing you? Everything with him was a ritual. You couldn’t get what you wanted until you felt utterly humiliated and vulnerable. He couldn’t get what he wanted until you had tears in your eyes. You nodded, “Yes.”

“Fucking say it,” He barked and you winced.

“I’ve b-b-been th-thhhinking about you,” You admitted although he already knew it. Your own well being seemed to rely on being obsessed with him. If you wanted any sexual satisfaction, he was the one who brought it. He was the entire reason you had a good income now. He was everything.

“You haven’t touched yourself though, not without my permission?”

You nodded, “Nnn-not without your permission.”

“Cause you need me,” He finally placed his lips on yours and you nodded against them.

“I nnn-need you,” You mewled between kisses as he pressed his crotch into yours. The two of you both tilted back towards his desk, “Please, Sir.”

You had consented, despite not being fully prepared. It didn’t feel like the first or second time. The first time had been overwhelming, your orgasms crashing over you like a storm, while the second time had been so gentle that the pleasure left you feeling like you were vibrating with ecstasy. You wanted him, undeniably, but nothing had prepared you for the intensity of him filling you completely. This was what you had desirel, feeling full, but now you were overwhelmed, as though he was consuming every part of you.

With his hands braced on either side of your head, he looked down at you, his gaze intense and focused. He moved inside you with a relentless, unyielding rhythm, driving into you with an insatiable need.

The room faded away around you. You couldn’t feel yourself breathing nor could you hear the sounds leaving your mind. You just stared back, your face a mix of anguish and pleasure, and accepted your fate. You didn’t fight your orgasm this time, your body moved instinctively, squeezing around him, your hips grinding up for more friction.

When he was close, he pulled out of you. Your energy was already gone, your orgasm having taken almost everything from you, but he moved your body effortlessly. He pulled you off the desk before placing you on your knees in front of you. Your legs folded easily, weakly, “Fuck,” He cursed, pantting, and you watched him take his cock in his own hand.

You reached out to take ahold of him but he pushed your hand away. His hands moved, determined, rhythmic, “Ask me to cum on your face.”

His breaths were heavy, desperate, and he clung to that control that had slipped away when he was inside you.

“Will y-you cum on my face, Sir?”

The question hung in the air, tension thickening, until he was finally gritting his teeth. He broke eye contact only as his orgasm ripped through him. The room filled with his moans and you did your best not overreact to that warm, sticky feeling that was now violating your senses.

“Good girl, look at you,” He said and you squeezed your eyes tightly as it began to drip onto your eyelid.

You breathed deeply, the intensity of the moment deciding to peak, and tears started to spill over. You became a crumpled pile of pleasure, shame and exhaustion. It seemed like the only way to release your emotions. Unexpectedly, you didn’t sit their alone. Rafe was the one to wipe your face with a tissue. He cooed, “Hey, you did good, kid. You’re a good girl,” He whispered sweet nothings to you.

“C-C-Can you hold me?” You asked, voice trembling, so embarrassed that you didn’t meet his eyes. You didn’t want to see how he was feeling or know what he was thinking. It was all too much.

Without a word, Rafe lifted you effortlessly into his arms. His strength was both reassuring and overwhelming as he carried you behind his desk, his body warm and solid against yours. He settled into his chair, drawing you onto his lap with a sense of protective intimacy. For the rest of the morning, he worked with you nestled against him, your face buried into his neck.

Rafe Cameron’s Appalachian cabin was one of the twelve properties he owned personally. You got to it by passing though a quaint and charming town. Despite the fact that he normally spends only three weekends of the entire year there, all the locals know him.

The four of you; Rafe, you, Eleanor and Topper, made your way down main street which was lined with old-fashioned storefronts. In the middle was the town square which featured an old, courthouse building and a gazebo where you see a few locals gathering. The four of you enjoy a diner meal at the Blue Ridge Breakfast Bar before you walk through a few shops. It almost feels .. normal. You were surprised the three of them were even willing to walk through the antique buildings, let alone find the shops interesting.

You didn’t know people like them even ate at diners or were interested in antique trinkets that cost less then five dollars. It was surreal. In another life, the three of them were normal people, and maybe you and Rafe could have been a normal couple.

You often found yourself glancing at Rafe, marveling at the contrast between his usual, impeccably dressed self and the more relaxed look he wore today. Seeing him in jeans and a baseball cap, casually strolling through the town, was almost disorienting.

It was a similar feeling you got when Rafe suddenly flipped a switch after being cruel to you and decided to comfort you.

Despite the fact that he was technically on vacation, you were still his personal assistant, and yet he hadn’t asked you about anything related to assisting him since he picked you up that morning from your apartment.

You wouldn’t say it to him, partially out of fear that he would deny it, but it felt like he wanted you appear like a couple. Topper and Eleanor undoubtedly new the truth so why was he acting like this? You never held hands like them but his hand would find your knee when you sat next to each other and sometimes he wrapped around your shoulder when you were standing close by.

Sometimes, your body didn’t want to relax around him, and the intimacy brought you anxiety. Soemtimes he was easier to read when he was drunk, or inside of you, or yelling at you. You weren’t familiar with this version of him. But you were stuck with the three of them for the next three nights.

Surrounded by towering pines and the soft hush of nature, the cabin was more of fortress nestled into the natural beauty of the mountains. You followed Rafe across a gravel path towards a large front porch which was framed by sturdy wooden columns. You stared up at large windows that endorned the front of the house, undoubtedly letting in a large amount of natural light, as you walked through the entrance.

The house was a complete reflection of his taste and the extent of his success. As Topper and Rafe left for the bedroom to drop off luggage, you and Eleanor made your way to the kitchen with the bags of groceries you’d acquired from the local mini-mart. Surprisingly, this place didn’t come with it’s own personal chef.

Like with everything else, you followed Eleanor’s lead when it came to cooking that weekend. She encouraged you to get ingredients for a dish you knew you could make on your own and you chose spaghetti despite the idea of feeding billionaire Rafe Cameron your homemade spaghetti making you feel stupid.

“I’ll show you how to arrange a charcuterie board,” She said as she poured you a glass of red wine, “You’ll be the perfect housewife when I’m done with you, Y/N.”

The afternoon actually ended up being fun. You and Eleanor laughed in the kitchen while Rafe and Topper watched a football game in the living room, nursing cans of beer. The wine relaxed you and soon you were giggling over unevenly cut salami and spilled strawberry jam. The two of you ended up eating half the ingredients meant for the board, much to Eleanor’s amusement.

Eleanor loosened up even more, even getting comfortable enough to tell you a story about Topper, “You know, one time back when we lived in Kildare, he tried to make me pancakes for my birthday. From the box, not even from scratch, and he burnt every one. Literally every single one. The kitchen looked like it had been through a tornado. I don’t know how he even managed that.”

You covered your mouth, shaking your head, “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“He went through the whole box! He had to serve them to me like that. No amount of syrup and whip cream can mask that taste.”

“I didn’t realize we were telling personal stories,” You whipped your head around as you heard Topper’s voice. Your heart raced for a second, worried, but he made his way around the kitchen island and hugged his wife from behind. Rafe was following behind him but made his way over to you. You composed yourself as much as possible.

“I was telling Y/N about how good of a cook you are,” She joked and he playfully tickled her sides and soon they were laughing together.

The two male’s casual demeanors seemed to complement the laid-back energy of the afternoon. You watched Rafe’s lips pull into a smirk as he surveyed your work and your empty glass of wine.

Dinner rolled around a few hours later, a relaxed atmosphere continuing to permeate through the air. You’d set the table in the dining room, the ten-person table sat next to a large window overlooking an expansive lake, and aided Eleanor in preparing her beef stir-fry.

“It’s really good, Eleanor,” You complimented her once all of you were seated and digging into your food.

“Thanks,” She grinned, “You’re a good sous chef, Y/N.”

A smile tugged at your lips, “Not better than me though, right, honey?” Topper asked.

“Of course not, honey,” Eleanor winked at him.

Small talk ensued and despite the fact that Eleanor warned the two men that business talk would bring down the room, they spent a good ten minutes talking about something called “tax increment financing”.

Eleanor interrupted after it became too much, “So, Rafe, are you going to do any more renovations on this place?”

“After they finish the pool next summer, no. Did the home theatre, renovated the master bathroom and expanded the garage this summer. It’ll probably be move-in-ready next year.”

“Oh, are you selling it?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

Rafe’s gaze flickered away, an unusual reaction for him. He usually had a quip or a witty retort ready. “No, I plan to spend more time away from Charlotte after New Year's. I’ll be living here at least five days a week.”

“Oh,” You nodded though you really hadn’t comprehended his words. You looked back down at your plate, and as you took another bite, his words started to set in. It was an inappropriate time to delve further but your mind started to race. He’d never mentioned that he wouldn’t even be living in Charlotte after the next few months. Shouldn’t he have mentioned this by now? “I-I thought …”

“We can talk about it later, Y/N,” Rafe dismissed you, bringing a piece of meat to his mouth, and looking away.

He spoke as if you were annoying him now. Eleanor opened her mouth again to change the subject but you interrupted her, “I-I’m sorry … w-will you still need me then? If I’m in Chhhh-Charlotte and you’re here.”

“Did you hear me the first time, Y/N?” Rafe’s jaw set as he dropped his silverware. The clang made you jump but your mind was spinning. It was a simple question, wasn’t it? Was he stringing you a long? Would you be out of a job next year?

“I-It p-p-p-pertains to me,” You continued, your heart racing as Rafe grimaced, “Can’t y-you just say if I’ll have a job or not?”

“You’ll have a job,” Getting confirmation made your shoulders drop from relief. It was almost worth whatever seed of rage you’d planted within him, “But you’ll relocate with me.”

“What?” You pushed your plate away, leaning back in your chair.

Topper and Eleanor exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the escalating tension. It felt like you’d already poked the bull, you felt like you had to see it through, “I’ll need you to move here. Won’t make sense to juggle from two places.”

“Mmm-my life is i-in Chhh-Charlotte. You n-never said this before,” You tried to keep your voice steady, to express your genuine disappointment despite your frustration.

“It’s not my fault you haven’t caught on, Y/N,” He spoke sharply, “You know how this works. I manage my properties and business. My plans change. You’re a part of that. You’re making it an issue when it’s not. You’re acting like you have a million options.”

“I-I know I don’t–”

You looked at Topper and then Eleanor. Now, the two of them were looking anywhere but the two of you.

“Then act like it.”

“Rafe–”

“I fucking own you, you don’t even understand that.”

“Rafe!”

“One more word, Y/N, and I swear to God.”

Your lips parted and your voice started to tremble as you felt the sting of his words, “This is so … shitty,” Perhaps it was the distance, the wood table that sat between you that made you feel so bold.

Rafe’s anger erupted, his face reddening as he slammed his hands on the table. “Boo-fucking-hoo, sweetheart! I’ve given you everything, the clothes on your back, keeping the lights on in your crappy apartment, and you’re still ungrateful?”

Your frustration reached its breaking point. “Fuck you, Rafe!” you shouted, your voice cracking with emotion. “I don’t want it anymore!”

You pushed your chair back abruptly, no goal in mind for where you’d stomp off to but you felt your blood boiling. Was his entire goal to completely ruin your life?

“Y/N!” He called after you and you turned your head to realize how close he was on your tail. Adrenaline surged through you, the thought that you might never have control of your life left you close to completely spiraling. Determined to get away, you picked up your pace, practically running through the million-dollar home, over shiny waxed floors, moonlight shining through tall windows.

He barked your name again and before you could reach the front door, his hand shot out and seized your upper arm. You screamed, his fingers squeezing your flesh so hard that you thought your skin might break. Swinging your body around, your feet lifted off the ground as he through you over his strong shoulder.

Kicking, struggling, screaming and crying, Rafe carried you up a grand staircase, “Please,” You were begging but adrenaline was pumping though him too, making him moved with his own determination. He kicked open door and your head whipped as he stepped inside, slamming it closed. You couldn’t focus on any detail in the room but as he through you onto an expansive bed, you assumed it was the master bedroom. For a moment, you played a game of cat and mouse. You gained your balance, and tried to crawl off the bed. Every direction you went, he moved faster, until you were sitting on your knees in the middle of the bed.

“You need to understand your place,” You watched as he started to loose the brown belt looped into his blue jeans.

You shook your head frantically, “I don’t w-want this.”

“It will be easier if you just apologize,” Rafe let out a breath of air, a weary sigh, his face frustrated, “I promise, I’ll make it easier for you.”

“If I-I …w-will you use the belt?”

“I have to use the belt, sweetheart, you’ve been so bad. Tell you what, if you apologize, I won’t tie you down to the bed. How’s that sound?”

The offer was as chilling as it was manipulative. You shook your head. You couldn’t bring yourself to apologize.

The process of what followed was both brutal and dehumanizing. You were left feeling exposed and vulnerable, your body laid bare and handcuffed to one of the posts of the canopy bed. The sting of the belt on your skin was relentless, each strike leaving a deep, aching mark that quickly turned to a disturbing shade of purple. Your apologies came out in frantic, broken pleas, but they seemed to come too late.

You even managed to ask him to hold you but he didn’t grant your wish that time. He left you to go back downstairs. You slid down to your knees when you couldn’t stand any longer, falling asleep in that position, head resting at a strange angle against the mattress.

When you next awoke, the light of morning was gently filtering through the curtains. Rafe’s arms were wrapped around you, his steady breathing and soft snoring a stark contrast to the harshness of the previous night. His nose pressed into your hair, a reminder of his physical presence.

You cried softly against him, the tears slipping down your cheeks as you clung to him. The sounds were muffled against his chest as you hugged him tighter.

hope you enjoyed!!

#rafe cameron #well kept #dark fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron smut #obx fic #rafe obx #topper thornton #dark!rafe cameron

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libingan · 4 months ago

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— how the TF141 eat PUSSY

JOHN PRICE

price starts by kissing and nibbling along your inner thighs, his breath hot and eager. he moves to your cunt with a determined tongue, savoring every inch of your pussy. his licks are slow, firm, and deliberate, ensuring he tastes every bit of your juices before concentrating on your clit.

he’s skilled and demanding, using intense, steady licks and forceful sucks on your clit, keeping you on the edge with a combination of persistent pressure and sudden bursts of intensity.

throughout, he lavishes you with praise, his voice rough with desire. “you’re so fucking delicious,” he growls. “I love the way you taste. I want to make you come all over my face.”

he doesn’t use toys, preferring to rely solely on his mouth and hands. his focus is entirely on your pleasure, making sure you’re completely satisfied with each lick and suck.

absolutely loves to edge you, bringing you to the brink of orgasm and then pulling back, making you beg for release. “not yet, love,” he’d murmur. “I want to hear you beg for it.”

sometimes he’ll restrain your hands above your head, keeping you from touching him or yourself, making sure you’re entirely at his mercy.

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

gaz takes a calculated and intense approach, starting with slow, deliberate licks around your cunt before shifting focus to your clit. his technique is precise, varying from gentle, teasing licks to rapid, urgent flicks.

neutral towards toys, sometimes using them but not relying on them. his fingers might play with your pussy while his mouth is on your clit, ensuring a thorough and varied stimulation.

gaz’s dirty talk is filled with praise, his voice smooth and encouraging. “you taste so fucking good,” he murmurs. “I love how you’re responding to my tongue. keep moaning for me, let me hear how much you enjoy this.”

he wants to make you feel adored and thoroughly pleasured, using his skillful technique to bring you to the brink of ecstasy with every touch and lick.

he loves to make eye contact while eating you out, watching your every reaction and getting off on the sight of you falling apart. “you look so beautiful like this,” he’d say, his voice husky.

gaz enjoys teasing you, brushing his tongue lightly over your clit and then pulling back, making you whine and beg for more. “tell me what you want, love,” he’d say with a smirk.

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

soap dives into eating your pussy with unrestrained enthusiasm, his scottish accent thick with desire. he starts with rough, eager licks, his tongue hungrily lapping up your juices. hes aggressive, his mouth constantly moving, focusing on your clit with hard, sucking attention.

he loooooves using toys, often incorporating a vibrator or dildo while his mouth is busy on your cunt. his fingers might stretch and tease you, adding extra stimulation to his relentless tongue.

his dirty talk is explicit and degrading, delivered with a thick Scottish accent. “ye’re so fuckin’ wet, lass,” he groans, his voice dripping with lust. “ye love this, don’t ye? ye’re such a dirty wee slut for my tongue.”

soap aims to push you to your limits, enjoying the way you squirm and beg. his relentless focus and use of toys are meant to leave you completely undone and craving more.

he’ll often slap your cunt lightly, adding a sting of pain to the pleasure, making you yelp and moan louder. “take it all, ye slut,” he’d growl.

soap loves to make you ride his face, grabbing your hips and grinding you down against his tongue, making sure you’re in control but completely at his mercy.

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

ghost's approach is intense and commanding. he dives into your cunt with a fierce, determined tongue, starting with broad, rough licks before focusing aggressively on your clit with hard sucks and teasing nibbles. his movements are precise and relentless, ensuring that every touch drives you wild.

he doesn’t use toys, preferring to rely solely on his mouth and fingers. his fingers may thrust into your pussy while his mouth focuses on your clit, creating a combination of sensations that leaves you breathless.

ghost’s dirty talk is harsh and degrading, adding an extra layer of intensity. “you’re such a filthy slut,” he growls against your cunt. “beg for it, you dirty whore. show me how much you want my tongue.”

he loves to hold your thighs apart with a firm grip, keeping you spread wide and completely exposed to his mouth. “you’re not going anywhere,” he murmurs, his eyes dark with desire.

ghost might spit on your clit, adding to the wetness and making his licks even more intense. “take it, you fucking whore,” he growls, his eyes locked on yours as he devours you.

he enjoys making you squirm and struggle, using his strength to keep you in place while he works your pussy with ruthless efficiency. his goal is to push you to your limits, making you come with an intensity that leaves you trembling and completely satisfied.

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moonstruckme · 2 months ago

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hi mae!! can i request tasm!peter ’teaching’ reader how to touch herself maybe? i love how u write him <3

Thanks for requesting! And I got your other ask about them being in an established relationship, so I incorporated that too :)

cw: smut mdni

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

“Peter.” Despite your best efforts, your voice is teetering on the brink of a whine. “You’re being mean.”

“I am not,” he laughs. You think that definitely seems a little mean, him laughing while you’re wet and squirming in front of him. “We’re doing this for you, remember?”

“You’re not doing much of anything for me,” you mutter. It makes an appalled bark of laughter come out of your boyfriend, his fingertips digging into your thigh as he gives it a teasing squeeze.

Peter’s lying on the bed in front of you. He looks like a pre-teen at a sleepover, chin propped on his hand, legs kicking behind him, the only difference your glistening cunt a foot from his face.

“The point is for you to learn to do it yourself,” he reminds you jovially. “What if I’m not always here to get you off, sweetheart? What if I die a tragic death?”

You frown, fingers stilling on your clit. “Don’t say that, please.”

“Sorry.” He kisses below your kneecap. “What I’m trying to say is, I feel like I should make sure you’re taken care of when I’m not around. Or that you can take care of yourself, so to speak.”

That gets a short laugh out of you. Peter smiles like he’s won the lottery.

“Make sure it’s good and wet, baby. You’re not getting a lot of friction there.”

“It’s not working,” you complain. You bring more slick upwards to your clit, but it hardly helps. Your own fingers seem feeble when you can remember the feel of Peter’s so vividly. “I don’t have to think so hard when you’re doing it for me.”

Peter gives you a knowing look, his lips tipped up on one side. “You don’t have to think now, either. You’ve gotta relax.”

“I’m trying,” you huff. You worry your efforts are building up more frustration in you than anything else.

He sits in front of you for a while longer while you plead with him with your eyes and heavy, despondent sighs. His pupils are dilated as he watches you try to work yourself, your sex so close he could put his lips to it with just the slightest movement forward. You swear your clit is going to go numb when Peter finally lets loose a sigh of his own.

“So stubborn,” he murmurs, almost to himself. He starts to sit up. “Okay. You want help?”

“Yes, please.” It’s an effort to keep your smile at bay. Peter’s expression makes you suspect he can tell, one part exasperation and two parts smugness.

“Lay back for me.”

You do so eagerly, but when your hand moves away from your cunt Peter catches your wrist.

“Hey, what’re you doing?” he asks. You stare back at him bemusedly, and he looks like he could laugh again. He puts your hand back where it was. “We’re not done with this, sweetheart.”

You frown. “I thought you were gonna help?”

“I am gonna help.” He smiles, bestowing a kiss on your lips. “We’ll get you there, don’t worry.”

He positions himself above you, kisses a slow, meandering path down your neck. His lean, muscular arm snakes between your bodies, his hand guiding yours between your legs. Thumb moving your own over your clit.

“Slower, baby, like that.” Peter’s voice is a satisfied hum. “You weren’t really trying before, were you?”

“I was,” you argue, but your voice is already growing weak from the suggestion of his touch and the realer, more tangible thing of his mouth on your throat.

“You can do better than that, I know you can. You’re just not patient with yourself. You’re too in your own head.”

His thumb pushes harder into yours, increasing the pressure on your clit. You choke out a moan.

“See? That’s tons better already. You can do it, sweet girl. You’ve just gotta be nice about it.”

“You’re nice to me.”

“Yeah? Thanks.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “I try to be. I want you to be that nice when you’re touching yourself, okay? Or even nicer.”

Peter alternates between chaste, soft kisses and delicate nips to your skin. Your own teeth are digging into your bottom lip, arousal pooling between your legs. Peter’s wearing his pajamas, plaid pants and a t-shirt, but when you try to slip your free hand underneath the hem he moves it to your own thigh. You frown.

“Don’t touch me, touch yourself,” he says. He picks his face up to deliver a kiss to your lips, laughing when he sees your expression. “I mean, thanks, baby, I love it when you touch me, but this is about you, remember? Touch yourself wherever you wanna be touched.”

You follow his instructions, bringing your hand up to your breast. When you squeeze, it makes your cunt throb.

Peter’s eyes darken. “Attagirl.”

You make a soft, stymied sound.

“You ready for more? You can do it, sweetheart, just do what feels good. Wanna put your fingers inside?”

You’d already been contemplating it, but the instruction helps. Your two fingers slip into you with little resistance. It’s not as much as you want, and your hips move seemingly of their own volition, searching for more.

“Be nice,” Peter coaxes. His lips press gently to the soft underside of your jaw. “You’re okay, keep going.”

His thumb nudges yours, and you pick your rhythm back up. The next roll of your hips finds more sensation. You let out a pent-up breath.

You can feel Peter’s smile bloom against your throat. His hand closes over your wrist, urging you deeper until your pointer and pinkie come into contact with sticky skin.

You get to a point where he’s doing most the work, your fingers moving on instinct inside of you while he works your thumb like a joystick over your clit until you’re sopping and no longer have the wherewithal to swallow down the needy sounds that want out of you. Peter likes those, always has, in a way that’s at once gratifying and embarrassing for you. His kisses grow heavier as his lips move close to your ear.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart? You’re doing such a good job, so good for me, my pretty girl. Feel how nice and worked up you can get yourself? Hear how pretty you sound? I know you’re close, baby, you deserve this. Cum on your fingers for me.”

You gasp almost wetly as you do, teary and overwrought. Peter kisses you all over your face and holds you through it. You breathe hard, and you must be off the hook, because when you find his hand with yours he coos and intertwines your fingers, squeezing lightly.

“That’s my girl,” he says. “You did it. Didn’t I tell you?”

“I feel like I might’ve hurt my wrist,” you mutter.

Peter laughs, the sound clear and bright. “You’ll get used to it, baby.”

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago

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Mother, I am hungry☹️ could you please give us a list of Kinks you think Konig would have to satisfy my hunger?🙏🏾

Hooooo boy!

CW: PURE FILTH below the cut, 18+ only. Light dom/sub, disciplinary/power play, exhibitionism, light bondage, domestic servitude, somnophilia, yandere!König killing someone who saw you naked, squirting, porn, M/F/F/F

Nature lover. The blowjob in the forest fantasy wasn't a lie! König thinks it would be romantic to make love to you in the middle of a dreamy glade, rut you against a sturdy tree, or have you take him in your mouth on some picturesque beach empty of other people.

He would also love to "warm himself" during a nice little wintertime walk, perhaps push you on your belly in the snow and tug your pants down just enough for him to slide inside your wet heat. The contrast between the frigid air and your warm, wet pussy drives him over the brink in mere minutes, and it's cute to watch you pout all the way back home – he knows his cum is spilling out of you, staining your underwear. He should give you a wash when you get back to turn that frown upside down ❤️

Powerplay. König loves to be in control. He would like to set a few rules for you and punish you when you "accidentally" break them. Those rules would be nonsensical and superficial – such as that you must greet him in nothing but your underwear when he comes home, ensure he always has clean clothes in the drawer, cook his favorite meal on Sundays, things like that. "You know what this means, Schatz," he mutters on your neck upon noticing you've broken his Sacred Rules, much to his delight – because the disciplinary action is that he's allowed to take you right then and there.

It's even better if you beg him not to punish you, explaining that you're tired or that you forgot. It's too bad, because only a safeword will save you. König is already getting his leaking cock out while you're on your knees, asking him to be merciful, just this once. "You know I have to do this… It's the only way you'll learn," he says before commanding you to either open that pretty mouth or turn around and bend over.

Squirting. He would be overjoyed if he got you to squirt. König has mainly watched amateur porn because regular porn is too emotionless and unnatural in his opinion. His preference is women doing solo – that's when he learned what squirting was and immediately vowed he would make his future wife squirt one day.

Exhibitionistic tendencies. This kind of ties in with the sex in nature fantasies: König would secretly love to get caught while having sex. He would particularly love it if the one catching you was a man, so that a "rivaling male" could see 1. how a woman is supposed to be fucked 2. how much you enjoy being fucked by him 3. what they can never have, i.e. gorgeous, whimpering, devastated you.

Yandere König would also kill the one who witnessed you two (and what's worse: witnessed you in a vulnerable, naked, quivering state), and I mean kill him right away, then come back to continue the session as if nothing happened 💀 In his mind, it's all very simple: he has to get rid of the one who laid eyes on you, then give you and himself an orgasm. In that order.

For him, there's nothing odd or wrong with striking a bloodied knife on your nightstand when he returns from his quest for blood. He'll insert his still hard cock inside you while speaking sweet nonsense in your ear, cooing how tight you are in a shaky, adrenaline-filled voice. You try to ignore the fact that he now has dried blood on his muscles, but it's no use. König reminds you of what he just did when your face distorts with tight pleasure. "No one is going to see you like this and live," his voice is almost a growl when you cum around that torturingly long cock.

Dominance and prisoner play. König would love to tie you up and use you as his personal fucktoy. And not just for one session… But for a solid, good 24 hours.

He wouldn't tie you too tight, just enough to prevent you from escaping the bed while he goes about his day, drinks a beer or two, comes to you every few hours to either make sweet, slow love to you… or fuck you with pent-up lust.

You being tied and helpless like that makes König attentive and tender one minute, and needy and greedy the next. You never know how it's going to be when he walks through that door, all you know is that he's going to pump you full of his cum.

He stays to watch it ooze out of you – it's actually one of the main events of this whole show because it means he'll have to fill you up again soon. He might also give himself a fap if you look too used and miserable or if you beg for mercy and whimper that you're sore. It's no problem: he's more than happy to cover your body with his seed. He's merciful like that.

When the day is done, you're a mess – inside and out – and he's fucked you stupid more times you can count, giving you so many orgasms that you feel soft in the head. What's fun though is that the man himself is in no better shape: you notice his legs are shaking when he finally comes to release you, looking like he has lost more than a few brain cells due to breaking the Guinness record of fucking you and himself senseless.

If you ever want to fulfill this fantasy, you will receive abundant aftercare. And I mean abundant. Bathing, cooing, pampering, treats, praise, and cuddles galore!

Mirrors. Fucking you in front of a mirror is like watching the best porn ever. Anything with a reflection will do, as long as König can watch you come undone, helpless and needy for his cock while he gets to display his strength. This man will probably install a mirror to your bedroom ceiling without asking your permission, but he prefers doing you from standing, prefers to do the lifting and the work.

Ballet dancer from behind and a stand & carry variation of Nelson are his favorite positions when using mirrors. All you have to do is enjoy... and obey when he tells you to watch what he's doing to you. "Look at that... You like being fucked like this?" he pants in your ear with strain and love while you both can see just how much you like it – his cock is practically glistening from how wet you are.

I'm sorry, were you busy? God forbid if you're wearing a dress or a skirt while making an important call. It doesn't matter if you're sitting: König will approach you, gets on his knees and then starts to kiss his way under your skirt.

Good luck trying to concentrate on that call when there's a horny giant forcing his head under your cute little dress. Soon he's sniffing at your cunt and tries to pull your underwear aside with his teeth. Try keeping your voice normal when he actually succeeds and you feel the first lick sweep over your pussy, flat tongued and hot.

You don't dare to fight him or tell him to stop in the middle of your serious, official and important call, which means you can feel the smiles on your poor wet heat. Of course König notices you're starting to sound like you're half crying... It only spurs him on!

You're a bit disoriented and don't register it at first that this hulking man is already climbing on top of you. It's rare for him to beg, but as he continues to dry hump you and then forces his cock between your thighs in search of your wet heat, you can hear him whisper: "Engel? Bitte... I have to put it in. Don't say no…"

Somnophilia kink. Yep, he has it, because the more helpless you are, the more "loving" he gets. König loves to watch you sleep, safe and secure there in his bed and in his arms. He caresses you like you're the Sleeping Beauty and if you happen to sleep naked (like he always does, this guy is a bit of a nudist at home), his fingers soon drift down to tease your clit, his hips start to slowly grind against your leg until you stir.

Gangbang fantasies where he's the one doing all the banging. One of his fantasies is to have multiple women all to himself. König would never seek to fulfill these fantasies in a committed relationship, but when he was lonely and only had his hand to keep him company, König used to dream he could have a row of women waiting for him when he returned from a mission 🙄

Usually three ladies who all want to worship and touch him and tell him how big he is, how heroic he is. He will command them to all fours, and they obey happily, ready and willing to be used. He does these ladies from behind, switching between them until everyone, including him, is on the brink of an orgasm. In these fantasies he always makes those women cum first. No one can say our King lacks manners! (How cute that he's so sure of himself... Would König even have the willpower to switch from one pussy to the next, not to talk of outlasting three women? I highly doubt that.)

Or how about these girls getting on their knees to suck his cock? In König's desperate, lonesome fantasies, these cute ladies love him so much that they start to fight over who gets to take him in their sweet wet mouth. They will eventually solve the fight by forming a queue – every woman gets half a minute with their King before changing. The long seconds when his cock is bouncing there in the cold air, devoid of a warm mouth, are torture. But he would stand strong!

Our brave soldier falls asleep while imagining how these purring, warm babes would cling to him for warmth and cuddles. Everyone is happy and pleased and he has been loved and worshiped thoroughly. In truth he just came in one minute, then tries to curl into a fetal position in a bed far too small for him. Cooling down from the day's highs, this Goliath is all alone, his last thought being that if he could get just one real woman to admire and love him and hug him before they go to sleep together, he would be the happiest man in the world.

#answered #könig headcanons #könig x you #könig smut #some fluff here too #könig imagine #forgive me father for i have sinned #this turned out so filthy #i have to burn this blog change my name and move out of the country

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longing-for-rain · 6 months ago

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hey there!

please don't take this the wrong way, because i'm genuinely just asking. i've seen your criticism of aang and kataang appear on my dash from time to time, and it just got me wondering: how can you enjoy the show?

i understand that you feel passionate about katara, and i suppose about the entire story, but. aang is like on screen 90% of the time, and he gets his happy ending too (as happy as it can be, of course, with having his entire culture and people on the brink of non-existence). how do you reconcile your love for the show with your dislike for its main character and how the narrative rewards him?

and once again, please understand that i'm not attacking. i'm just curious to see at what point does someone stop being a fan and start being simply critical of a certain media, if you know what i mean.

thank you for answering if you do, and cheers!:)

I just don’t pay attention to him very much. Even in the finale, Zuko’s ending and story stands out more to me. Him standing before the crowd in his sparkling crown, announcing that he wants to bring in a new era of love and peace, that’s powerful to me. Watching Zuko go from an abused boy who thinks his only worth comes from accomplishing an impossible task in his desperation to appease his abuser, to a literal king taking back his power and using it for good, is a powerful story.

As for Katara, to me, her true ending is the Agni Kai. I wrote a whole post about it. That is the culmination of her arc, where she is able to display her power and use it to overthrow the regime that she’d grown up being terrorized by. And then after Zuko was nearly killed, Katara was able to save his life just like he saved hers. The way their stories intertwined was beautiful, and it was a beautiful conclusion to Katara’s story, watching her not have to feel helpless for once and bringing the change she’d always dreamed of.

As you can probably tell, these are my favorite characters so I was satisfied by their endings. To be honest on my rewatch, I usually kind of just skim the Aang vs. Ozai fight because it’s just an anime battle. The characters hadn’t even met prior to the fight, so the emotional depth is lacking compared to the Final Agni Kai.

As for the balcony scene? I don’t watch it. And I think it says a lot that by simply not watching it, nothing is lost. It adds nothing to either character and only serves to give Aang a reward. Before that moment, nothing about the finale suggested Katara wanted that at all. Neither character played a significant role in the other’s finale arc. There was absolutely no narrative significance between them.

But there was for Zuko and Katara.

To me, Katara ended the story as a heroine and warrior, not a love interest. With Zuko, that was her ending. So that’s the real ending to me, because that’s what her character means to me.

#that doe eyed babydoll they replaced her with on the balcony was a body double as far as I’m concerned #zutara #zuko #katara #atla #avatar the last airbender #anti kataang #canon critical #ask #anon

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angelbaby-fics · 4 months ago

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Okay so i have tonsillitis rn and cant eat bc it hurts like hell.

Cg stucky x little reader x little Peter where the reader has tonsillitis and dont wanna eat so Papa Steve needs to hold her while baba bucky feeds her even though her cries and sobs Broke their heart they need to do it bc she dont even wanna eat soup. Big bro petie wanna comfort her and give her, her favorite blankie and plushie😻

I love your fics!!

A Welcome Distraction

Word Count: 500

A/N: Aaah I'm sorry this took so long! Hopefully your tonsillitis is all better now 😅 I hope you like this 💕

Steve and Bucky were more than worried for you. It was nearly dinnertime and you’d still refused to eat all day. They knew what was wrong, your doctor's appointment was scheduled for the very next day, but there wasn’t much they could do to comfort you in the meantime. You’d even denied your bottle full of warm milk, something you usually couldn’t get enough of. Your daddies’ hearts ached just knowing how uncomfortable you must have been. Even Peter was concerned, hardly able to pay attention to his toys while you were suffering.

The discomfort in your stomach grew worse, but it was still no match for the white hot pain that came every time you tried to swallow. You’d spent all day long either crying or on the brink of tears, handed back and forth between your daddies so you’d never be left alone. The sun was nearly setting when they decided something must be done. Bucky carried you to your highchair, but you only clung to him harder. Your baba immediately understood what you needed, sitting down at one of the dining table chairs with you still in his lap, still gripping tight to his shoulders. Peter watched from his booster seat across the table.

Steve entered the dining room a moment later, a bowl of soup warmed up to just the right temperature in his hand. It was your favorite kind, with not too strong of a flavor or too many spices since he knew you were already overwhelmed. You hid your face in Bucky’s neck as Steve approached you with a spoonful of warm broth.

“I know, angel. Just a couple tiny bites for daddy?”

Bucky lightly massaged your scalp, an excuse to gently maneuver your head to face Steve a little better. You parted your lips just enough for him to slip the spoon in and guide a little bit of soup down your throat. It didn’t feel good, but the taste was satisfying as it washed over your dry tongue, and the warmth spilling into your tummy woke up your appetite. You whined for another bite. Bucky continued to comfort you as Steve kept the spoonfuls coming. Both of them were focused on you, making sure you didn’t start crying again or coughing up the soup. You continued to whine and wiggle for a bit, until you stopped.

Both of your daddies looked down to see Peter seated on the floor next to the table. He’d gotten up from his booster seat all on his own and snuck away to your playroom, retrieving as many dolls and stuffies as he could carry. Now he sat cross-legged before you, acting out funny little scenes with your toys to try and cheer you up while you ate, and it was working. For the first time all day long, you cracked a hint of a smile. Steve and Bucky were so proud of the sweet relationship between their babies. Your big brother Peter had saved the day once again.

(this is how i imagine them watching peter & reader interact so sweetly hehe 💕)

#little!reader #stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky #marvel agere #peter parker x little!reader #stucky x little!peter #daddy!stucky x little!peter #chloe's fic #agere fic

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velarisdusk · 2 months ago

Text

Whispered Echoes

Day 5: Begging | Nesta x Reader word count: 1k author’s note: ok omg there are a couple firsts for me here. have never written a wlw reader insert, or wlw in general, and have never written a dom!reader. i was nervous but i had a lot of fun, and i think i didn’t do half bad tbh ;P ✦ . Kinktober Masterlist . ✦

Your fingers trace the curve of Nesta’s hips, hovering just above her skin, never quite touching, as you circle her slowly. She watches you, that sharp, calculating stare pinning you in place, but you see the tension coiling in her body. It’s always like this—her trying to cling to control, even when she knows it’s slipping.

“Lie down,” you command softly, and though she follows the order, shifting against the pillows with deliberate, lazy grace, her jaw is set, her defiance clear in the lift of her chin. You bite back a smirk. She thinks she’s still in charge.

You take your time, settling between her thighs, slowly parting them with your hands. She lets you, but her body is stiff, the tension thrumming through her muscles. You lean in, your breath hot against her skin. “Look at you,” you murmur, your voice low and teasing. “So pretty, laid out for me like this. Do you want me to touch you?”

Her lips part, just barely, but she remains silent. Her stubbornness bleeds into every inch of her, even when her body is practically begging for you.

“Nesta.” Your voice is firmer this time, with a quiet edge to it. “I asked you a question.”

She meets your gaze, that unyielding fire blazing in her eyes. “Maybe I don’t need you to,” she says coolly, though her voice wavers, betraying her.

You raise a brow, dragging your fingers higher, letting them brush lightly against her inner thighs, teasing but not satisfying. Her breath hitches, hips tilting ever so slightly toward you.

“Oh?” You murmur, lips curling into a slow smile. “Doesn’t feel that way.”

Her nostrils flare, and she narrows her eyes at you as if daring you to push her further. You lean down, pressing a soft kiss to her thigh before grazing your teeth lightly against the sensitive skin. She shivers, but her pride keeps her silent.

You glance up at her, voice soft and dripping with authority, “Beg.”

A flicker of something crosses her face — anger, lust, frustration. “I don’t beg,” she spits, her voice sharp, cutting, even as her body betrays her, her chest rising and falling faster now.

You hum, pretending to consider her words, and then shake your head. “You will.”

With that, you dip your head between her legs, your tongue tracing a slow, tantalizing line up her center, savoring the way she gasps, her back arching slightly off the bed. It’s reward enough, but you don’t linger. One teasing lick, and you pull back, leaving her gasping.

Her glare could burn holes into the walls. “Don’t play games,” she growls, her voice rough with need.

You sit back, unbothered by her fury. “Games? You started them, Nesta.” You brush a hand over her knee, up to her thigh, and then — nothing. You leave her hanging there, so close yet still just out of reach. She’s trembling beneath you, tension coiling through her body like a wire about to snap.

“You want me to stop?” you ask, tilting your head, your voice all innocence. “All you have to do is ask.”

“I don’t–” she starts, but the words die on her lips when you lean down again, pressing another fleeting kiss against her heat. This time, a strangled moan slips from her throat, and she slams her hand into the mattress, fisting the sheets in frustration. You press your mouth to her again, this time lavishing her with slow, deliberate strokes of your tongue. Each movement is calculated to build the pressure within her, to drive her to the brink without ever quite letting her fall over the edge.

“You want to come, don’t you?” you ask softly, kissing the inside of her thigh again. Her skin is hot, flushed, and she trembles under your mouth. “Say it. Just say ‘please,’ Nesta. It’s simple.”

Her jaw clenches, the cords in her neck standing out as she fights against the surrender building in her body. “You’re insufferable,” she hisses, but her voice is ragged now, her breath coming in shallow pants.

You smile against her skin, fingers trailing dangerously close to where she needs you most, but not quite touching. “Maybe. But I think you like it.”

For a moment, you think she’ll stay silent, clinging to that last thread of defiance, but her hips arch toward your hand, a soft, needy sound escaping her lips. She’s close, so close, and she knows you know it.

“I–” Her voice cracks, her pride warring with the desperate need coursing through her. She bites her lip, hard enough to draw blood, and then, with a sharp exhale, she finally breaks. “Please,” she breathes, so quietly you almost miss it.

You lift your head, raising a brow. “What was that?”

Her eyes flash, but this time it’s not with anger — it’s with pure, desperate need. “I said, please.” The words come out strained, as if they physically pain her. “Touch me. Make me come.”

A thrill of satisfaction hums through you, but you don’t make her wait any longer. You press your mouth to her, fingers sliding inside her with a smooth, practiced ease. She gasps, her head falling back against the pillows as you work her toward that sweet, inevitable release. Her thighs tremble around your head, her breathing growing ragged, uneven.

Nesta’s hands fly to your hair, gripping tight as you take her apart piece by piece. When she finally comes, it’s with a shattered cry, her body bucking beneath you, her muscles clenching around your fingers as wave after wave crashes over her.

You ride her through it, your touch gentle, steady, until she collapses back against the mattress, utterly spent. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, and her eyes flutter shut for a moment, as if she has to focus on catching her breath.

You shift up beside her, brushing a strand of damp hair from her flushed face. “See? That wasn’t so hard. Begging suits you.”

Nesta turns her head, glaring at you with the last dregs of her strength. “I hate you,” she grumbles, though the small, satisfied smile playing on her lips says otherwise.

You laugh softly, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Hate me all you want. You begged for me.”

Her only response is a soft, tired huff as she rolls onto her side, her body pressing instinctively closer to yours.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taglist <3

@starlightazriel @nvdax @halo-hanging @paleidiot @kismet27

@mellowmusings @gracielacie @d3ad-ins1de @loviseamms @inkedinshadows

@natasha153 @deathdoordoctor @spacebananabud @secretsicanthideanymore @edance2000

@lorosette @alykatv @honethatty12 @hellabizzy @serena-capella

@acoazlove @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @scorpioriesling @hannzoaks @confusedsezure

@elenapri0502 @randomgurl2326 @90angiex @sizzlingstarlightsky

#kinktober #acotar #acotar smut #nesta archeron x reader #nesta archeron #nesta archeron smut

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writingbyshiloh · 1 year ago

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Lazy Day

AN: I got scheduled to work closing shifts and wrote this to wind down for the night! I have a longer, more interesting piece coming soon!!! Ep 3 broke my heart for Jordan I want them to be happy.

CW: fluff, swearing, mention of The Deep, No beta. Could be read for AMAB or AFAB Jordan, I’m still ironing out the kinks of writing for a bigender character with that power

WC: 0.4K

You pull your hand out of Jordan's hair to grab your highlighter for a passage in Deeper. Satisfied with the yellow splotch you made on the page you cap your highlighter and bring your hand back down. The angle is awkward for you though. Your back is resting on Jordan's headboard and your legs are splayed to accommodate Jordan resting against you. Their back is pressed against your stomach, slouching because of the support you provide. Property Brothers play on their laptop for the two of you.

You’re not really watching, just happy to spend time with them and try to get caught up on your class readings.

“Babe, are you even seeing this floorplan?” Jordan asks.

You tear your eyes from your book for a second, just enough to see the camera switch from the spare bedroom to the loft.

“Yeah, it's something.” you say, trying to find your spot on the page instead of caring about the plans for an entertainment station on the upper floor of the house.

“It’s shit. Wait, are you even watching?”

“Mhmm.” you hum in response, removing your hand from their hair again to flip the page.

You barely feel Jordan lean their head fully against your chest. What you do feel is them twisting your wrist holding The Deep’s autobiography. You slide your thumb between the pages to keep your spot so you can give all your attention to Jordan.

“You’re seriously reading that?”

“It’s homework.” you reply.

“For an acting class.” They shoot back.

“It’s actually a class on coming back from a setback in media.” you correct.

“I don’t know why you're even taking it,” they say, pressing the space bar of their laptop to play the show, relaxing against you once again.

“I needed an extra credit. My courses got fucked last year because someone didn't want me in Brink’s class.” You both know you’re talking about Jordan but you don’t have any venom in your words.

There’s also no venom in the middle finger Jordan flips you, their eyes still trained on the laptop. You huff out a laugh and bend forward to kiss their hair.

“You’re so fucking rude.” you laugh.

“You love it."

You do, probably more than they know.

#gen v x reader #jordan li x reader #I promise I have a longer jordan thing but the people are HUNGRY for Jordan I am giving them what they want #also if anyone has a better title let me know I will change it asap I just want to go to bed at this point

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vastill · 1 year ago

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Blue petals

Larissa Weems/fem!reader

warnings: 18+, NSFW, oral, fingering, sex pollen, pet names, swear words

words: 2000+

My requests are open!!

English is not my first language!!

A/N: hello darlings💚 im back and im back with a smut! i finally finished it and i think im happy with how it turned out. i hope you guys will enjoy it!!💚 let me know what you think!!

Principal Weems found solace in the quiet company of flowers whenever she felt overwhelmed. The plants in Nevermore’s greenhouse always were well-groomed and in the easiest way possible beautiful. She refrained from disturbing the botany teacher, so she would often venture to the greenhouse after her work hours.

However, a new plant had appeared in the garden. You were unsure how it got there and didn't have time to identify its species. Being a Nevermore teacher consumed most of your time. You decided to examine it over the weekend and, for now, simply transferred it to a pot and hid it at the back of the greenhouse to keep it out of sight.

On a Friday night, you were in your office studying the newfound plant. Searching some information in books and on some discussion forums for botanists. There was very little information about it, but it wasn’t poisonous. That’s comforting. You were scrolling through some articles and found the photo of said plant. It said sex pollen. You didn’t need more information to start sprinting to the greenhouse, hoping that no one got close to the plant.

How wrong you were.

While you were in your office, Principal Weems wandered into the greenhouse. There, she stood admiring the new plant you had acquired. It was remarkably beautiful, captivating her attention with its small size and vibrant, shining blue petals. She had never seen anything like it before. Curiously, she leaned in to sniff the plant, and its strong aroma awakened something within her, although she didn't think much of it. As soon as she heard footsteps approaching the greenhouse, she quickly left and returned to her office.

You rushed to the greenhouse to take care of the plant and started wondering whether you should inform Principal Weems about it. After all, some students might have interacted with the plant while you weren't watching. Yes, you should tell her. And with that, your walk to the principal’s office began.

Larissa didn’t know what happened, she was horny. She felt an intense urge to satisfy herself immediately, fearing that she might explode if she didn't. Her hands instinctively began to explore her body, starting from her neck and moving down to her chest. Her breasts were never this sensitive, and she was touching them through her blouse. She couldn't help but wonder how she would react when her most sensitive area was touched. Unintentionally, a moan escaped her lips. Just as she was on the brink of climax from the mere touch on her chest and neck, her blissful moment was interrupted by loud knocking. She quickly composed herself, making sure she appeared presentable and invited the person at the door to come in.

You walked into the office, Larissa seemed off, something was different in her, and for now, you couldn’t grasp what exactly.

“Principal Weems, hello, I’m sorry for the interruption but I need to inform you about a plant that was in my greenhouse.” You said quickly. You looked at her but she wasn’t saying anything, she was just staring at you. Her dilated pupils scanned over your silhouette. Were you dreaming? But the plant didn’t do anything to you. No, it didn’t, you were sure. So what is going on?

Fuck.

“Principal Weems? Did you go to the greenhouse today?”

“Hmm?” she shook herself from daydreaming.

“Did you go to the greenhouse today?”

“Oh yes, this new flower is exquisite, what kind it is?” Larissa said with a dreamy voice.

“Oh my, did you touch it? Or sniff it?” Please say you didn’t, please, please.

“Yes, I did. Why are you so tense up Y/N? Something happened?”

“Principal Weems, Larissa if I may, this flower produces something like, well it’s called sex pollen.”

“What?” That sobered her up a little. A sex pollen flower, that’s why she was feeling this way. “Oh my god, please tell me you are joking.”

“I am not, I’m sorry that I didn’t take care of it earlier. I just figured out what it is and walked straight to your office.”

“Fucking hell. Can I do something about it?” Larissa asked, her voice holding hope.

“Um..from its name, it only comes out of the body with..um intercourse or masturbation. You need to relieve yourself or someone needs to do this for you.” You told her, embarrassment visible on your face. You didn’t think you would be having this conversation with your boss. “I’m sorry I will leave you to it. If there will be some complications or something like that you know where to find me.” And with that, you left to your quarters.

Larissa was left alone, horny, and frustrated. She tried and tried. But anything brought her relief. She was left with only one choice.

Find you.

After you left, your mind wandered to the tall blonde and wondered how she was doing, specifically what she was doing. The images of Larissa pleasuring herself lingered in your mind. As you were getting ready to go to sleep, a knocking sound interrupted you.

You opened the door to see extremely angry Larissa.

“What happened? A-are there more difficulties? I don’t have an antidote yet.” You asked with worry in your voice, but when she looked at you with her eyes full of lust, you knew that wasn’t the problem.

“Can I come in? I don’t think it’s a matter I want to discuss where anyone can hear me.” She said nervously, fidgeting with her fingers. “I tried Y/N, and tried and nothing helps. I don’t know what to do now. I think I might combust in a moment if this feeling won’t disappear.” She told you, her voice whiny, you never hear her like this.

“I’m terribly sorry Principal Weems-”

“Larissa, please Y/N, we are over it.”

“Okay, so I’m sorry. Larissa, I don’t know how to help you. I wish I could but I don’t have any medicine or solution yet.” You said hanging your head low.

“I think I have an idea,” she said as she came closer to you. “Y/N, I will be honest, and you can do anything with it,” she said, taking a breath. “I find you very attractive, not just in looks, but also in your way of thinking. I would never tell you this, but the situation is extreme. So, darling, would you do me a favor and have sex with me? Please?” She looked gorgeous. How could you deny someone like Larissa? She was perfect in every aspect, especially when she looked at you with those ocean-blue puppy eyes.

You grabbed her chin and kissed her hard. Her lips felt soft and warm against yours. As your lips met, they parted effortlessly, inviting your tongue to explore. Your lips moved in sync, filled with urgency. When you needed to catch your breath, you nibbled on her lower lip before parting. You took her in, her hair messy, pupils dilated and full of desire, and her lips swollen. You couldn’t take your eyes off her, a slight blush crept on her cheeks from your stare.

“Come here.” You led her to your bedroom, keeping your mouths locked together along the way. When you felt resistance behind her you lightly pushed her torso. She landed on the mattress with a soft sound. Wasting no time you straddled her lap and attached your lips to her jaw. Moving lower to her neck, you searched for her sensitive spot. And when you kissed behind her ear, she moaned, so you stayed there, leaving light marks for her to find later.

“Y/N, please. I need you dear.” She moaned, her hips bucking beneath you. You quickly undressed her, starting with her shirt. Taking a moment to admire her, you gawked at her beauty.

“Larissa, you are so beautiful. The most perfect woman I have laid my eyes upon,” you said before attaching your lips to her neck again, but this time going lover. “Lay down for me,” you instructed, standing up and ridding yourself of the T-shirt and pants, leaving only your panties. You could feel her eyes roaming around your body.

Once again, you straddled her, your lips finding their way to her neck while your hands massaged her breasts. She was a moaning mess under you. You kissed around her nipples, never exactly touching them but when you did she let out a scream. And you were thankful for soundproof rooms in Nevermore.

“Oh, please, please Y/N. That feels so good,” she breathlessly pleaded, her hips rutting against the air. “I think I might cum only from this, please don’t stop.” So you continued, taking the other nipple in your mouth, sucking and biting it. The sounds that escaped from her mouth were heavenly. You wanted to hear them for the rest of your life.

“Fuck, fuck, yes! Oh darling, please, I’m so close!” She screamed, and with that she orgasmed. You never brought a woman to her peak solely by devouring her breasts. Her chest heaved as she took deep breaths. You moved away to give her a moment, but she grabbed your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. Her mouth hungrily met yours, teeth clashing together. The kiss was clumsy yet filled with desire and tongues.

“How are you feeling darling?” you asked with a voice heavy from lack of air.

“Better, but still Y/N I need more from you. Please touch me.”

“But I’m touching you, don’t you see?” you said with a smirk.

“Y/N, I want your fingers inside me. I need your tongue all over me bringing me to orgasm after orgasm. I need that so much. Please give it to me.” Larissa begged you.

“Your wish is my command. But for the record, I never took you for a begging type,” you said, lowering yourself to her stomach, and leaving a few kisses and marks in your wake. Her stomach twitched when you lowered yourself. “Can I take these off?” you asked.

“Yes!” she said quickly.

You nestled between her legs, her glistening folds in front of your face. Her scent overwhelmed your senses. You started by kissing her thighs, getting closer to her center. You gently kissed her clit, causing Larissa to whine as her hips bucked into your face. You began licking and sucking on her clit, listening to the moans that escaped from Larissa's mouth. One of your hands grabbed her hips to prevent her from moving while the other slowly approached her entrance. You slid your fingers inside her, feeling her wetness and heat. Curling your fingers, you continued to move them in and out of her, building a steady rhythm.

“Harder, please!” Larissa let out between her moans.

You added a third finger, pumping them faster and deeper, making her moan and writhe with pleasure. Her hips trying to match the rhythm of your fingers. She was lost in pleasure, her moans freely leaving her mouth.

“Oh fuck-” you could feel her tightening around your fingers. Her fingers tangled in your hair. Larissa's hips moved of their own accord, using your face for her own pleasure. “Please, don’t stop! I’m so close!” You could only emit a low growl.

Her movements grew sloppy, and she was on the edge of orgasm. You worked harder than ever to give her what she desired so desperately. And with another curl of your fingers, her body stiffened, and she let out a scream. Her thighs clamped around your head, and you allowed her to ride out her orgasm. When her movements slowed down, you gently removed your fingers, earning a whimper from Larissa.

Glancing at her blissed-out expression, you admired her beauty. Her face was flushed, her lips swollen from kissing and biting, but what fascinated you the most were her eyes, filled with emotions. “Are you okay?”

She looked at you with tired eyes and smiled gently. “Yes, I feel better. And I can assure you that we are going to do it again in the near future.” You chuckled at her response. She grabbed you and pulled you closer.

“Take a lady on a date first!” you giggled as she attacked your neck with kisses. “Maybe I will, but right now, I want to return the favor.” Your eyes widened as she smirked at you.

You didn't need any more encouragement. The two of you spent the rest of the night rather occupied with each other. It was a night neither of you would soon forget, and it was only the beginning of a passionate affair between you and Principal Weems.

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa weems fanfic #wlw fiction #wlw post #vastill

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dewracle · 1 year ago

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Little Late Now

Hey lovies it's been a bit, I got bored and decided to write this due to the server. Much love! Tags: Hand job, teasing, gender neutral, slight mentions of breeding kink. 18+

As of recently II has been wearing less and less clothes for the rituals, going as far as only wearing his mask and shorts during the hottest of days. You understood where you lover was coming from see as you too get ready and watch them play. But you also knew that the drummer would need help applying his charcoal paint in a reasonable amount of time. Somehow you had convinced him to allow you to do that, rubbing the deep paint against his smooth skin. Holding eye contact with him as his breathing hitches turning into a soft gasp, your fingers running closer and closer to the male’s v-line. “Baby now isn’t the time.” He protests against your hand. The same hand he was pushing his hips into, chasing the delicious friction of your touch. His own hand wrapping around your wrist as he subconsciously pulls you closer into cupping his bulge, fuck was it getting harder and harder to control yourself around him. You bite at your lip, gently squeezing your grip, leaning closer to nose just under his mask. You place gentle kisses as II hisses, eyes rolling back into his head, hips now bucking into your touch. “Fuck it, let me jerk you off.” You whisper close to his ear, other hand already moving to pull his cock out of his shorts. He whines softly at the touch of skin-on-skin contact, a small bead of pre cum already forcing at the tip of his cock. You look down before smirking at him as you use the pre to help glide your hand across his cock. II whimpers, grabbing onto your hips, thrusting shallowly into your very loose grip.

He huffs softly as you kiss at the already painted skin of his neck, “Don’t be a fucking tease not now…” II wraps his hand around yours, tightening the grip on his cock.

He looks at you with lust-filled eyes, nodding down to his cock, “Spit,” He says simply motioning for you to spit on the shaft of his cock. You gather as much spit in your mouth as you can before allowing the string of spit to slowly drip onto his cock. He groans, satisfied with the new lube since the frication had gotten to a bad point.

II’s hips now push rapidly into your fist, his hands not allowing yours to move more than a simple twist here and there. Your own arousal getting to you, making you ache for the male, sadly you both knew there was not enough time to prep you to take his cock.

“Ah-ah fuck!” The drummer moans rather loudly in the dressing room, his eyes rolling back into his head as your other hand moves to touch his hanging balls. Seemingly as you kiss and bite at the male’s neck, he gets closer and closer to the edge. Your own mouth covered in the dark charcoal paint from his neck.

The arousal between your legs getting wetter and wetter as the seconds pass, as your lover gets closer to the brink of his orgasm. You begin to feel the soft heartbeat due to how lustful the sight in front of you is making you. Your own whine being let out, your grip twisting as you whisper dirty words into II’s ear, “Baby come on, paint me with your cum…” His hips jerk, “Fill me up and breed me~” His much louder moan cutting you off.

The male’s cock twitches, squirting rope after rope of semen onto the front of your shirt, “Fuck baby, Imma breed the fuck out of you after this.”

You giggle softly, removing yourself from your lover and looking him over. II is a mess of sweat, paint, and hickies. But he was your mess to clean up and remake any time you believed fit. Maybe that was why he was extra lively at the show.

#sleep token #sleep token ii #sleep token iii #sleep token iv #sleep token vessel #imagine #x reader #headcanon #sleep token x reader #sleep token band #sleep token ii x reader #sleep token smut #sleep token vessel x reader #sleep token iii x reader #sleep token worship #sleep token ic x reader

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heavens-moonlight · 4 months ago

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𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦 | 𝟬𝟱: 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗦 𝗢𝗥 𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦

𝟬𝟰 : 𝗖𝗥𝗜𝗠𝗦𝗢𝗡 | 𝟬𝟲 : 𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗦

Author’s Note: I didn't expect to be gone for so long but life just got in the way T_T. I'm still doing well and will see this story to the end! Updates won't be as frequent so I'm not going to put dates on when in case I disappoint like last time and can't stick to a set schedule. More chapters will be coming soon (the next one is written, just needs heavy editing). Call me crazy but if I'm not satisfied myself with what's written, I feel like readers won't either so I have to take my time and make sure it's good enough. Hopefully this long one makes up for my unintended hiatus and I’d love to hear your thoughts on it in the comments! Also, please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist. Thank you to those still reading (and those just finding this now). It means a lot to me ♡

"Jun-Hee, please come back to me..." You place your hands on either side of his face and turn it toward yours. He stares at you, the only thing visible in the dark being each other.

As Jun-Hee stands frozen in shock, eyes shadowed by grief and body trembling uncontrollably, your heart aches at the sight. Without another word, you step closer, sliding your hand from its previous position on the side of his face down to hold his hand. In your mere presence, Jun-Hee's rigid posture begins to relax and his breathing, steadier.

Even when shrouded in darkness and even on the brink of despair, you would always be one another's comfort. And that, in itself, exists enough hope to spare.

"I can't do this without you," he whispers, hand clutching yours like a lifeline, his eyes refusing to look away from your own.

You smile up at him, but the sadness seeps through and the corners of your lips don't curl upward like before, the crinkle of mirth not quite reaching your eyes. "As long as we have one another, we have yet to lose."

The two of you watch forlornly in stunned silence as chaos continues to unfold all around, students like passerby thieves in the depth of night.

What was the price for stealing a life?

Seconds tick by, the passing of time like that of a fever dream where you can't escape the confines of an endless nightmare.

One Mississippi.

[ғᴏʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴜʟᴇs, ᴏʜ ʜʏᴇ-sᴜɴɢ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ. ᴏʜ ʜʏᴇ-sᴜɴɢ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ᴄɪᴛɪᴢᴇɴ.]

Two Mississippi.

[ ғᴏʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴜʟᴇs, ᴋᴀɴɢ ʏᴇ-ᴡᴏɴ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ. ᴋᴀɴɢ ʏᴇ-ᴡᴏɴ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ. ]

Three Mississippi.

[ғᴏʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴜʟᴇs, ʟᴇᴇ ʜʏᴜɴ-ᴊᴜɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴊᴜɴɢ-ᴇᴜɴ, ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴄɪᴛɪᴢᴇɴs, ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ.]

Four Mississippi.

"Jang Hyun-Ho!" You immediately swivel your head to the right, recognizing Kyung-Jun's voice, seeing him pick up a phone that slides his way after rebounding haphazardly from a mistaken kick of desperation. He holds it up high just as the lights flash a dark scarlet hue, the deepest of the shades of red in the beam's spectrum. In its opaque midst, his Cheshire smile appears ever more sinister, pristine teeth stained with the color of blood. "Better find your phone quickly." With a taunting shake, Kyung-Jun chucks the device clear across the room carelessly and it clatters a short distance before settling deep underneath the lowermost bleacher seat.

You look back and forth between Hyun-Ho and Jun-Hee, torn on who to help. Regardless, you still had the chance of resurrection, to revive one of them, but with that comes the knowledge that you'd eventually have to first let go of one of them entirely.

Five Mississippi.

You would rather lose yourself all together than having to choose between either of them and watch as your world falls apart.

Making up your mind, you pull Jun-Hee along and he trails behind, not questioning where you were headed. Hyun-Ho is already on all fours by the time you reach the sidelines, face pressed against the ground and trying his hardest to reach beneath the small space to retrieve his phone.

Although he has long arms, they're neither thin nor flexible enough to reach far.

"Your muscles are useless." You move Hyun-Ho out of the way lightly and settle Jun-Hee on the ground next to you so that he's seated resting against the bleachers, finally catching on to what was going on.

"How can you still tease me in this situation?!" Hyun-Ho drones at the absurdity, whipping his head back and forth as more bodies drop dead all around. "Go, and don't worry about me. I'd give up a thousand of my chances for your one."

[ ғᴏʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴜʟᴇs, ᴋɪᴍ ʏᴇᴏɴ-ᴊᴜ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴇxᴄᴇᴜᴛᴇᴅ. ᴋɪᴍ ʏᴇᴏɴ-ᴊᴜ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ᴄɪᴛɪᴢᴇɴ. ]

"We promised each other, remember?" Even in the dark lighting, you can feel his eyes softening.

You don't mind the floor, laying down on your stomach with your arm outstretched. Even in his blank state, Jun-Hee instinctively extends his hand out, palm upwards for you to rest your face on rather than have it press against the dirty surface.

Your fingers tiptoe against the cold wood, feeling around for the phone, but all you sense is dust. Not giving up, you flatten your arm further, stretching your fingers as far as they can go, finally coming in contact with a sharp and hard edge. Without wasting another precious moment, you swat it slowly and surely outward, ensuring that it wouldn't get caught or trapped beneath the bleachers forever.

One more sweep and you hold in your outspread hand Hyun-Ho's lost phone.

"Hurry and vote." You push the device towards him. "So long as it's not for the person who has the most votes. We can't afford to give anyone else up." Before he can say anything, you pull Jun-Hee back to his feet again and run into the center of the gym, digging around at every single phone that someone else hasn't already picked up.

Even without words, you end up looking for Jun-Hee's and he, yours. To the right by the upturned trash can, two phones lay stacked atop one another, area not yet ransacked.

You hastily grab them and flip to inspect the phone cases. Thankfully, one of them is Jun-Hee's, the shared photo booth picture sets you two took together peeking through the back pocket.

"I found yours!" You press Jun-Hee's phone into his palm, encircling his fingers around it tightly as you both escape to the edges of the gymnasium, out of the way of others searching.

His grip on you tightens, not ready to let go yet; neither your hand nor the temporary sense of safety you provided.

"And what about yours?"

Right as he says that, Kyung-Jun meanders over with your phone resting in his hold, the lavender outlined case easily recognizable even in the dark. Matching photos with Jun-Hee's of the two of you during happier times stares back at you.

You have absolutely no clue where he managed to find it or why he looked for yours in the first place, but you knew he would never tell you even if you were to ask.

Surprised, you peer up at him but he avoids looking directly at you in favor of cradling your hand to place your phone facedown into your palm before leaving just as quietly as he had come.

Jun-Hee is as taken aback as you though he doesn't question it, mind still focused on the impending doom and punishment he riddled on everyone.

Not long after, Da-Bum, Jung-Won, and Yoon-Seo come bounding over, their own phones in hand. The thought comes suddenly to you, unbidden, as to why Da-Bum and Jung-Won always seem like they're together as of late.

It seemed unexpected that either had developed mutual feelings, for both preferred solitude over company if they could help it. Not being able to put a finger on it unsettles you for some reason, the pair appearing together solely when night falls only to be more indifferent than strangers during the day. Maybe Da-Bum feels indebted to your group for the help, or maybe Jung-Won is simply protective for the sake of it, your mind concludes for you. Regardless of whatever case it may be, if you thought any more about it, you would spiral into an oblivion of unanswerable questions.

[ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʙᴀᴇᴋ ᴇᴜɴ-ʜᴀ.]

[ʙᴀᴇᴋ ᴇᴜɴ-ʜᴀ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ.]

[ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴡᴏᴏ-ʀᴀᴍ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʙᴀᴇᴋ ᴇᴜɴ-ʜᴀ.]

[ᴄʜᴏɪ ᴍɪ-ɴᴀ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʙᴀᴇᴋ ᴇᴜɴ-ʜᴀ.]

[sʜɪɴ sᴇᴜɴɢ-ʙɪɴ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʙᴀᴇᴋ ᴇᴜɴ-ʜᴀ.]

[ᴋɪᴍ ᴊɪɴ-ʜᴀ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʙᴀᴇᴋ ᴇᴜɴ-ʜᴀ.]

[ᴀʜɴ ɴᴀ-ʜᴇᴇ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʙᴀᴇᴋ ᴇᴜɴ-ʜᴀ.]

[ᴄʜᴀ ʏᴜ-ᴊᴜɴ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʙᴀᴇᴋ ᴇᴜɴ-ʜᴀ.]

"Eun-Ha it is then," Jung-Won says to your group coldly. "Vote for her."

"What? No!" you outright reject, and Jung-Won is taken aback. "I'm not going to side with So-Mi on this without proper reason."

Yoon-Seo nods her head, assenting. "If we vote for her too, she'll die. We can't do that."

"What other choice do we have?" Jung-Won looks tense as she scrolls through the tally of votes yet to end.

"We'll scatter our picks so that we all get one vote each. I'll choose myself."

"We don't know if that's against the rules," you tell Yoon-Seo. "You can vote for me. Jun-Hee, you too."

"But—" they both oppose at the same time.

"I'll be okay." You look between them, resolute.

"Seol-Hwa..." Jun-Hee utters, more forlorn than ever.

"I'll gladly bite the bullet of two votes if it means we can hold out just that much longer. You and I both know we neither have the luxury nor time to think this over. I can take the small risk to save another innocent classmate."

"We don't know if she is," Jung-Won retorts.

"I know what I know and I trust my instincts. You can vote for her if you feel like it." Never before in your life have you ever seen less than eye-to-eye with Jung-Won but with the existence of this deadly game, it has become a given and no longer a rarity.

You watch as Da-Bum and Jung-Won eye one another nervously, your curiosity peeking over how they got so close so fast.

[ᴊɪɴ ᴅᴀ-ʙᴜᴍ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴏʜ ᴊᴜɴɢ-ᴡᴏɴ.]

[ᴏʜ ᴊᴜɴɢ-ᴡᴏɴ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴊɪɴ ᴅᴀ-ʙᴜᴍ.]

[ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ.]

[ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ.]

[ʟᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴏɴ-sᴇᴏ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ.]

[ɪᴍ ᴇᴜɴ-ᴄʜᴀɴ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ɴᴀᴍ ʏᴇᴏɴ-ᴡᴏᴏ.]

[ɴᴀᴍ ʏᴇᴏɴ-ᴡᴏᴏ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ɪᴍ ᴇᴜɴ-ᴄʜᴀɴ.]

[ᴊᴀɴɢ ʜʏᴜɴ-ʜᴏ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʙᴀᴇᴋ ᴇᴜɴ-ʜᴀ.]

[ᴋɪᴍ ᴅᴏɴɢ-ʜʏᴜɴ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʙᴀᴇᴋ ᴇᴜɴ-ʜᴀ.]

You bite your lip in frustration as the two boys vote hastily, most likely swayed by the majority and not having been within earshot of Yoon-Seo's suggestion. Your eyes meet across the room, soulless and empty, shells of the people you once were, looking back at one another in a haze of blinding lights.

As the red hue morphs back into a dulled white, it feels like you have all just descended into hell and back, heaven now much too far out of reach.

[ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛᴡᴇʟᴠᴇ ᴠᴏᴛᴇs, ʙᴀᴇᴋ ᴇᴜɴ-ʜᴀ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ.]

Eun-Ha sits lifeless on the ground in the middle of the circle, fingers twisted around her phone, the one precious vote failing to be her saving grace. "I said I was a citizen," she whimpers in tears, going around and grabbing everyone's hands, pleading uselessly. Those that voted for her look away guiltily, the possibility of her innocence still up in the air. "How many times must I tell you it wasn't me?" Her steps stagger, not yet able to accept the unfair death sentence hanging above her head, everyone an executioner. "Why?" She repeats like a mantra. "Why me?"

Secretly pulling out your phone, you make sure no one knew of it. In the moment, everyone's attention was directed at Eun-Ha's spiraling emotions and you quickly click on her name, the first person you were choosing to heal.

You look up as Eun-Ha's footsteps squeak against the floor, her hands covering the tears streaming down her face as she runs through the glass doors of the gymnasium until her figure can no longer be seen rounding the corner.

Fate, please be less cruel.

No matter how hard you try to fight it, as the music crescendos over the speakers like a cursed lullaby, you can't fight the heaviness settling over you. Your eyelids heavy, droops to cover your eyes in a blanket of darkness as your body sinks to the ground.

Even above water, you feel like you're drowning on air.

Whether it's in sleep or reality, the pull of the void is too strong for you to resist, and you can't for the life of you, seem to get away, forced to succumb to it.

[ɴɪɢʜᴛ ʜᴀs ᴄᴏᴍᴇ.]

You're suspended on the threshold of subconsciousness and consciousness, light spots flickering behind your eyelids momentarily before they dissipate and you're forced to come back to the realm of the living.

As your eyes refocus upon opening, extricating yourself from the caress of sleep that miraculously enveloped you, you feel so, so tired of everything.

Would it be better to give in or give up?

Jun-Hee is beside you but doesn't utter a word, his gaze fixed on an empty space in the distance, eyes rimmed red. Your hand itches to reach out toward his but you instead will it to remain still, digits curling into your palm, nails clenched hard enough to create crescent divots intersecting the creases in your hand.

How do you even begin to comfort him when you can't so much as do it for yourself?

Yoon-Seo sits to your right, hand over her eyes as silent sobs rock her body, trembling back the telltale sign of her suppressed cries.

"Joo-Young..." Mi-Na calls, your attention turning to the pair. Your hand comes up to clasp over your mouth as you realize a white sheet had been laid upon her face.

Try as you might, you couldn't pretend not to know the one thing that meant.

"No..." you whisper out.

"Joo-Young," Mi-Na repeats, still receiving no response from her friend. Even shaking her foot does nothing to change the silence. "This isn't funny..."

Yoon-Seo scrambles over on shaky legs, dropping to her knees in front of Joo-Young's rigid body.

"She's acting weird..." Mi-Na mumbles, hand unsteadily reaching toward her friend. As she grabs the corner of the white cloth, the incoming announcement has her hand dipping to the floor limply.

[ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ, ʟᴇᴇ ᴊᴏᴏ-ʏᴏᴜɴɢ ᴡᴀs ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ. ʟᴇᴇ ᴊᴏᴏ-ʏᴏᴜɴɢ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ᴄɪᴛɪᴢᴇɴ.]

Yoon-Seo throws back the cover to the onslaught of gasps at the pale, lifeless body beneath, already stiffening up due to rigor mortis.

Irrespective of everyone's state of mind, the announcement drones on monotonously, unfitting of the somber atmosphere.

[ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀsᴛ ᴠᴏᴛᴇ ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀs ɴᴏᴍɪɴᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴡʜᴏ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʟ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴄʜᴏsᴇɴ ᴄʜᴀ ʏᴜ-ᴊᴜɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴀᴇᴋ ᴇᴜɴ-ʜᴀ.]

[ᴀʟʟ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄɪᴘᴀɴᴛs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪғʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠᴏᴛᴇs.]

The staticky sound over the speakers is drowned out by Mi-Na's cries, yet to comprehend the death of her friend who she fell asleep beside last night, only for one of them to wake up in the morning.

Quietly, Yoon-Seo pulls back Joo-Young's shirt collar, fingers trembling against a ligature mark bruised red like branding done by the devil. "Strangulation..."

Mi-Na ignores Yoon-Seo's remark, beelining for Jun-Hee and grasping him by the neck of his button up shirt, shaking him in hysterics, resentful. "I said I wouldn't follow your plan," she reiterates her sentiment from the previous night. "If we hadn't listened, none of us would've gathered here only to end up like this." Jun-Hee is shoved back with every word, every accusation. "You killed them all and now it's on you!" Mi-Na nearly spits in his face, angry tears staining her face.

"Stop it!" So-Mi shouts.

You merely stare, not daring to move an inch. Everyone else remains rooted to their spot, the events of last night yet to fade from memory. Even Jun-Hee acknowledges his fault, allowing Mi-Na to throw him around and curse in his face. Nothing could make him feel better. Tears well up in your eyes as you dissect the gravity of the situation, pitying how responsibility can so easily become liability.

"They're not wrong," Ji-Soo voices, voice barely above a whisper. "We simply survived by pure luck. You and Kyung-Jun...neither of you can fix this nor return the lives lost."

Kyung-Jun, who had been sitting in the chair he fell asleep in last night, stands up and kicks it aside, sending it skidding across the floor. "Fuck you," he swears with venom at Ji-Soo. "If you know what's good for you, then keep my name out of your mouth. It's not my fault to share." He turns to her, glaring. "Did I suggest the idea first?" Pointing straight at Jun-Hee, Kyung-Jun shakes his finger condescendingly. "This happened because of you, and only you."

"I'm sorry," is all Jun-Hee manages to say as he staggers away from the scene, wanting to be alone.

No one runs after him.

This time, not even you.

You sit motionlessly, only having the heart to count how many steps it takes for Jun-Hee to walk away, and wonder how many it will take for him to come back.

"Whatever," Kyung-Jun waves his hand dismissively. "The class president got us into this mess, and the only way for us to get out of it is to go to the very end. Let's vote him out today." He casts a hidden sidelong glance over at your soulless gaze after Jun-Hee's retreating form and turns away, adding nothing more to fuel the fire but neither does he retract his statement.

Jung-Won steps forward, sizing up Kyung-Jun without a single fear of the possible consequences in doing so. "You—" At her address, his head swivels back, cat-like eyes sharp as daggers. "You said it was a good idea and went so far as to collect our phones. Why change your tune now?" She crosses her arms in front of her chest, gauging. "Care to tell us why you were the only one relaxed last night?" Jung-Won raises one eyebrow defiantly. "Is it because you took your phone back secretly?" Scoffing, she ridicules him. "Don't play innocent when you're the most suspicious."

You whip your head toward Jung-Won, wondering how she possibly found that out in the commotion. It finally clicks to you that either he had both his and yours hidden in his possession or he only had yours to look for after already having secured his survival with a vote. No matter which way you looked at it, Kyung-Jun devised a win-win situation. The clear advantage had compelled him to so readily agree with Jun-Hee and avoid the brunt of blame.

Of course he wouldn't change.

"Yah," he voices lowly and menacingly, stepping closer to Jung-Won, staring her down. "Isn't it obvious? How are we to trust Jun-Hee? For all we know, he could be Mafia." Turning to look at everyone in succession, he yells loudly, those nearest to him jumping from the sudden sound. "GUYS! Our lives depend on this game." His eyes shift toward Jung-Won pointedly. "Why entrust someone else with mine? I just used my brain, something you all don't seem to do." Despite his anger being directed at Jung-Won, he punctuates his words with punches to Da-Bum's chest, a mere bystander beside her. "If not, last night I would've been another corpse in the mountain of bodies."

"Stop it, please..." Yoon-Seo nearly begs, tiredness seeping into her voice. She throws her hands up in frustration. "Do you still want to fight after everything that's happened? How long must we stay here and anxiously wait out our turn?" Even when no one answers, Yoon-Seo adds, "Won't we even attempt to find our way back home?"

Though the schpiel was aimed at Kyung-Jun and not even her, So-Mi sneers, rolling her eyes, displeased. "How naïve do you have to be to think that we can? It's not that we don't want to. We can't."

Yoon-Seo turns to her. "This game—if we figure out its purpose, we can find a way out without anyone else dying." Silence envelops the room as she looks around, eventually gesturing to the bodies strewn across the floor. "Before that, let's move everyone."

Mouth hanging open, So-Mi looks at Yoon-Seo in shock. "Excuse me?!"

"We can't leave them like this. They were once our classmates. The least we can do is to allow them rest in the freezer."

As Kyung-Jun turns on his heel to leave, Seung-Bin and Jin-Ha are quick to follow, no ounce of sorrow hanging over them.

Yoon-Seo, ever-courageous, latches onto Kyung-Jun's wrist as he brushes past her. "Stay and help."

He yanks his arm back, grumbling under his breath. "Crazy bitch.”

Woo-Ram backs up Yoon-Seo, indignantly criticizing Kyung-Jun. "How cheap of you to always walk away by yourself, leaving others behind. Is it not in your ability to leave half of your heart to care for someone? Not even a single person?"

Kyung-Jun advances, ready to round on him, but So-Mi and Jung-Won block Woo-Ram off from his path and you're once again left floundering in the dark searching for answers to the unexpected dynamics established over the course of just a few days.

Not giving up, Yoon-Seo grabs Kyung-Jun again, on the brink of pleading.

You get up to your feet unstably, shuffling over to pry her quivering fingers away as no one else steps up to side with her. "Yoon-Seo..." you get out listlessly. "Don't waste your time on those who will never understand. We don't need them. We'll be fine on our own." You don't look back as the two of you task yourselves with the act, the others watching on aghast.

Mindlessly, you go through the motions, forcing your arms and legs to cooperate, mind numb as you drag the cold and bloody bodies of your fellow classmates.

So many hopes and dreams have yet to blossom, but this is where they'll remain, wilted and buried forever, never to bloom.

You kneel on the ground, aimlessly orientating limbs to lay properly and force the tears to stay suspended on the rims of your eyes, not allowing them to fall and desecrate the bodies of your schoolmates. Your thoughts blur as you move on autopilot when someone suddenly tugs you by the forearm up into a standing position.

You come face to face with Kyung-Jun, the force with which he pulls you up propelling you inches away from him as he fights with himself to keep up the angry facade, glint slowly fading as he catches sight of your eyes. Through the haze of tears, his features blur in your vision, the distortion of expression leading you to see only concern.

You attempt to yank your arm out of his grip but he doesn't intend to let you do so. Seeing you flinch, he realizes the force of his strength and relaxes his hold around your forearm, fingers lingering at your wrist.

"Let go."

"Why are you doing this?" he questions, the scene drawing the attention of the others, yet none dare to intervene.

"Because I actually care," you grit through your teeth, only loud enough for him to hear, tears cascading in rivulets down your face.

Away from the veil of tears, there's no mistaking the look on his face this time, pupils wavering back and forth between your own. The realization of the night in the infirmary dawns on him as he finally understands that you are the type of person to care for everyone, regardless of all else.

Kyung-Jun's eyes trail every path your teardrops make as it etches marks onto your face, his hold becoming lax. You pull away roughly and swipe at your tears with your sleeve, returning to the matter at hand and choosing to ignore him completely.

Everyone is more than surprised when Kyung-Jun moves you out of the way and wordlessly transports the bodies himself, enlisting the aid of Seung-Bin and Jin-Ha, who after being forced to get over their initial shock, have no choice but to listen and reluctantly follow along.

He throws backward glances at you all the while, not understanding or being able to pinpoint why and how infuriating it was that you were the only one who seemed to be able to get under his skin by doing nothing, by your presence alone, yet he doesn't think he'll get the chance to ever find out.

You drop to the floor even as everyone heads to the freezer, fingers pressed into the palms of your hands.

As you uncurl your trembling digits one by one, it reveals stains that bleed into every fold of skin.

One in particular is a darker shade of red, seeping deeper into the crease.

Your eyes trace the curve adjacent to your thumb, path now extended.

Life line.

Yet, you can't find it in yourself to rejoice at the sight when the one thing symbolizing your prolonged existence is a promise written in blood.

After Yoon-Seo requested to be alone to pay her respects to those who passed, you wait outside the ice-cold room, sitting on the floor with your back pressed against the sealed doors.

At the sound of footsteps, you look up to see Jun-Hee. Silently, he crouches down before you, simply looking at you before he lifts his hand toward your cheek. Your eyes follow as his fingers hang suspended in the air by the side of your face.

He closes his eyes once before opening them again and letting his hand drop into his lap, a dark look flitting across his soft features. "I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry."

You let out the breath you weren't aware you were holding. "What for?"

Jun-Hee slumps against the metal frame beside you, head leaned back and eyes avoiding yours. "Everything."

You watch him intently.

"I shouldn't have done what I did last night," he tells you, angling his body toward yours.

You shake your head, sensing him drawing into himself. "Don't blame yourself. None of us could possibly know what would happen."

"No, it really is my fault. I'll live with the guilt forever."

"I won't let you live with it alone..." You scoot closer to him, your arms pressed against one another's.

"How—" his voice shakes as he gazes at you, the space between his eyebrows creasing. "How can you still stand to talk to me? To look at me? To be next to me?" You make to speak, but he continues on before you can get a word in. "It hurts, Seol-Hwa." With a weak murmur, he rests his head on your shoulder.

"It's okay to be hurting. Cry if you have to." You lean your head atop his. "I'm here for you."

"Are you not repulsed by me?"

"Is that why you drew your hand away earlier?"

He sits back up properly but doesn't reply. You grasp the answerless answer all the same.

"Jun-Hee," you say, fingers still itching to intertwine with his as you look down at your hands touching in the gap between your bodies, but not enough to hold. "Until this game is actually over, people will keep dying. There's no way we can fight that, no matter how hard we try, but if you really want to be responsible—to still be responsible—think of how to find a way to get everyone out safe, okay?"

"Okay," he agrees, smiling the faintest for your sake.

You stare at him in the momentary silence that follows, wishing you could tell him what you truly mean. Instead, you mask your feelings, settling for a word of comfort that doesn't overstep the boundaries of friendship. "You can always come to me. When you're happy...and when you're sad."

This time, he reaches out to cradle your face without reluctance, without hesitancy. "What did I do to deserve you?" His thumb brushes across your cheek lightly. "Our friendship is my life's biggest dilemma."

"Good or bad?"

Your question draws a soft chuckle from Jun-Hee. "Good, I promise." He gets a faraway look in his eyes for a second as he mumbles, "Almost too good for me to ever change it. Even though I find myself wanting to, more and more, every single day."

"What do you mean?"

He pulls his hand away and smiles faintly to himself. "Later. I'll tell you later."

Although confused, you let it slide. "I'll hold you to that." You get up, brushing off your skirt before angling your hand down, outstretched for Jun-Hee to take. He grabs it and stands up, the two of you facing one another. "Me and you against the world?"

"Always," Jun-Hee affirms, pulling you in by the hand, so close that the toes of your matching white sneakers are aligned.

"Jun-Hee...?"

"Can you hug me? Just so I know that it will be okay?"

You stretch on your tiptoes, placing your arms around his neck and pull him in nearer as his wind around your waist, drawing you tighter against his chest, hands settling at the small of your back. He snuggles his face into the line of your shoulder and presses closer, breathing in deeply.

"Everything will turn out alright." You rest your chin on his shoulder and lean your head against the side of his.

"I believe you," Jun-Hee exhales out shakily, squeezing you that much tighter so that you have to rise higher on your toes.

"Let's not give up until this is over, yeah?"

"As long as I have you by my side, how can I?"

The two of you slowly extract yourselves from one another, the sound of something tumbling in succession on the other side of the sliding metal doors making you and Jun-Hee dash in without another thought after a second glance at each other.

Yoon-Seo lays in the middle of strewn empty crates, hands around her neck and gasping for air.

"Yoon-Seo!" You stoop beside her as Jun-Hee makes to prop her up while you dig in her skirt pocket for her inhaler, administering it to her quickly.

Given the sudden commotion, the rest file in, having heard the ruckus and loud exclamations, crowding around to see what exactly was going on.

Yoon-Seo still struggles to breathe as you assess her level of consciousness, supporting her the best you can. Eventually, her eyes close and she passes out.

You recruit help from Hyun-Ho and Dong-Hyun, Na-Hee trailing them as they take Yoon-Seo to the infirmary to rest. Unfortunately, that meant you and Jun-Hee had to sit down with the rest and discuss what to do going forward.

Thankfully, you realize with relief and a weight lifted off your heart, Eun-Ha is back and sitting with Yeon-Woo and Eun-Chan, very much alive and very much safe.

The only seat remaining is between Jun-Hee and Kyung-Jun, and you gingerly settle down in the middle, not acknowledging the latter even as he speaks up.

"Let's not drag this out and cut to the chase." Kyung-Jun sits spread eagle, leaning his elbows on his knees with his arms hanging down toward the floor as he looks up with his head slightly bowed, addressing everyone. "If you're part of the Mafia, speak up."

Jung-Won purses her lips, thinking it idiotic. "Are you aware that your mouth runs before your brain does? Do you think you would reveal yourself if it were you?" she says sarcastically.

Kyung-Jun whistles, in disbelief at her sassiness. "Okay, that was bad on my part. Let me try again. To rephrase, I'm giving you all a chance to condemn someone. Who would like to start?"

"So-Mi," Eun-Ha inserts without missing a beat.

"Yah! It's not me!" So-Mi shrieks, extricating her headband roughly from her hair and tossing it on the ground with a clang.

"Did I say it was you?" Eun-Ha crosses her arms and sneers, much bolder and more confident after having revived. "I simply called out your name. Why are you already on the defensive?

Kyung-Jun leans back in his chair, watching the scene unfold with amusement, the rest eyeing warily the two girls with nothing but a wall of animosity between them. "We'll come back to this," Kyung-Jun resolves, merely rolling his eyes at So-Mi's glare, unbothered.

Dramatically, Seung-Bin suddenly slams his hand against the table in front of him, a resounding outburst that's sure to have hurt his palm more than he let on. "Disclose if you're on the Police team too." Met with radio silence, he menacingly tries a different approach of threatening answers out of everyone. "Are you not going to?"

Da-Bum repositions himself in his chair, looking up and down from his clasped hands settled in his lap. "I...don't think they would do that either, just like the Mafias won't."

"Of course they won't," Yu-Jun agrees, making everyone turn toward him, still suspicious about his role.

Given how he was healed without imminent danger or justification to be saved, he was high on your list as a fellow doctor who chose to protect himself first and foremost. That was one of the reasons for you deciding not to ever pick yourself, otherwise the group could come to a certain conclusion if they put two and two together.

"Fuck," Kyung-Jun curses, looking out over everyone gathered. "Why the hell won't you cooperate?" When no one responds, and not knowing what more to say, he turns your way but looks past you at the last minute, instead turning the focus on Jun-Hee. "Banjang, it's you, is it not? Only citizens died because you didn't allow us to vote. Tell me then, was it all part of the Mafia's plan to get rid of as many citizens as possible?"

In a deadpan manner that leaves no room for argument, you don't look at Kyung-Jun when you defend Jun-Hee. "That's not true. If you read through the alerts of everyone who passed last night, a Mafia was caught in the crossfire too. Why would they willingly give up their own member if it was supposed to be a foolproof plan?"

You can feel Kyung-Jun staring a hole through the side of your face but it quiets him for the time being.

"At least we can be almost sure about who one of the doctors is," Woo-Ram voices, everyone's eyes flickering over to Yu-Jun, virtually indisputable.

He finally notices the attention on him and rejects the assumption feebly without a strong counterargument. "I'm telling you it's really not me." Yu-Jun looks to his girlfriend for help but Ji-Soo misunderstands the look as throwing her under the bus.

"Who do you take me for?"

Mi-Na points between the couple. "It has to be you two. Who else would bother to save Yu-Jun?"

The boy in question turns to Mi-Na, half offended and half frustrated. "I don't know why they decided to save me either. Would I be dumb enough to protect and out myself simultaneously if I had that role?"

Even Ji-Soo turns to study her boyfriend as he speaks and you're now positive with the way he's shielding that he was indeed the other doctor aside from yourself. "Maybe it really isn't him," Ji-Soo helps out. "By the same logic, you'd be saying that either Eun-Chan or Yeon-Woo had saved Eun-Ha, but the two of them were more shocked at her resurrection than she was."

Mi-Na uses that mention to segue into the next point of discussion. "Kim So-Mi."

"Me?" So-Mi huffs, widening her eyes in anger. "Again?"

"Eun-Ha said you were a Mafia yesterday. Did you pick her because she caught you red-handed?"

Hesitating, So-Mi turns her body toward her accuser. "I only voted for her because she was going to vote for me first."

"That's a weak excuse and you know it," Eun-Ha chimes in. "Don't forget I saw what you did on the mountain. Did you think I would disregard it and let it slide? After you nearly killed me yesterday?"

"What happened on the mountain?" Kyung-Jun presses, glancing over at you without your noticing, eyes trailing down to your legs still littered in bruises and cuts yet to heal.

Eun-Ha smiles sarcastically. "So-Mi purposefully tried to push Dong-Hyun and Seol-Hwa downhill so that they would fall outside the lines and be executed."

"You bitch!" So-Mi points a finger at her. "I almost slipped myself trying to grab his hand."

"You clearly didn't try hard enough," Eun-Ha retorts. "That same day when we came back, Dong-Hyun himself said that you never did so. You had no intention of doing it." Eun-Ha glances over at you briefly before continuing. "If it wasn't for Seol-Hwa risking her own life to help her friend, he would've most likely impaled himself on that tree stump down by the edge of the cliff." The description leaves little to the imagination and you close your eyes against subconsciously reliving the unwanted memories.

"This is all circumstantial evidence!" So-Mi screams, feeling cornered.

"Both Dong-Hyun and Seol-Hwa are still here. She hasn't corrected me, and if we're to go and get Dong-Hyun right now, I'll bet everything I have he would side with me." Eun-Ha smirks at So-Mi. "The three ghosts you failed to make are back to haunt you."

"What motive would I have to do it? Huh?!" So-Mi provokes, running out of options to act blameless.

"Easy," Eun-Ha leans forward, at the edge of her seat, not breaking So-Mi's gaze. "Dong-Hyun had to go first because you knew he's stronger and the only way to endanger him would be petty tricks like telling him to check the fading boundary line, knowing there was a fifty percent chance of him being wrong." She shrugs, using her face-up palms like a scale, weighing. "If he was unfortunate and was out of favor with the Lady of Luck, you knew either way Seol-Hwa, being the kind person that she is, would have done everything in her power to save him. If you played your cards right, you could've rid of both of them at once."

"And what would Seol-Hwa have anything to do with me being suspected like this?!" So-Mi fumes, vein protruding from her neck.

"I think everyone in the school knows this by now. They'd have to be blind or living under a rock not to." Eun-Ha laughs mockingly, hiding her smile behind her hand. "It's obvious how much you like Jun-Hee but he could care less about you when he'd probably turn the world upside down for Seol-Hwa. That's the only vendetta you have against her."

Jun-Hee shifts back and forth in his seat next to you, uncomfortable at being involved in So-Mi's villain origin story, and you try not to blush at what Eun-Ha is implying, entirely inappropriate for the situation.

So-Mi flushes in embarrassment, even more so that none of her friends were coming to her defense. "Do you really think I'd be that petty?!"

In a turn of events, it's not Eun-Ha but Kyung-Jun who replies to her. "Yes, we do. We've all seen what you're like at school and all the things you've done."

"You're no saint either, Go Kyung-Jun," So-Mi says to him bitterly.

He cackles in her face. "Maybe, but unlike you, at least I'm not a murder suspect."

"Fuck you—"

"Thanks but no thanks, because I wouldn't like you either." Kyung-Jun swats his hand flippantly at So-Mi before he reaches out and pulls your chair toward him, metal squeaking against wood. The rest turn and look, entirely baffled at the sight. You don't move very far as Jun-Hee drags the other side of your chair back toward him, not letting go even as Kyung-Jun releases his hand instantly, smirking. Jun-Hee probably doesn't realize that his hand has instinctively settled on your knee, without any intent to move it away. "Now that was a test." He motions with a circling finger from you, to Jun-Hee, and finally to Eun-Ha in succession before stopping directly in front of So-Mi, miming drawing an 'x' in the air level with her face. "And you're the only one who didn't pass." As So-Mi gapes at him, he turns to Jun-Hee. "Don't worry." He throws a sidelong glance, tilting his head at you, gesturing. "I'm allergic to nice people."

"Take of it what you will," Eun-Ha concludes, having said everything she needed to get off her chest. You can't help but beam to yourself seeing her back to the best version of her she could be. You've been suspicious of So-Mi from the start with all her power trips and victim mentality. It was about time someone put her in her place, and who better to do it then the person she expected to have finished off last night.

"Aside from So-Mi's inferiority complex," Mi-Na begins again. "Anyone else have anything to say?"

As a last resort, So-Mi turns the table on Mi-Na herself, knowing an attack on Eun-Ha would just be her announcing she'd like to be voted off. "What about you then? You're a Mafia, right?" She stands up, gaining height advantage as she approaches Mi-Na. "You and Joo-Young had a big argument yesterday."

"We did have one but why would I kill her over it? Friends fight all the time about the littlest things."

"You lick her boots as if you're her servant in front of her and then proceed to badmouth her behind her back. I guess you found the perfect alibi last night handed to you on a silver platter."

"No wonder," Jin-Ha chimes in, hatefully. "Joo-Young did treat Mi-Na no less than a dog."

"That's not true at all!" Stumped, Mi-Na turns to read the room but everyone is still processing all the accusations that have sprung up.

Kyung-Jun pinches the bridge of his nose, irritated. "Dammit, you all talk so much. Where was this fervor when I asked initially? Just turn yourself in or you'll see blood. I won't say it twice."

After a short pause, Woo-Ram dares to question him. "Why did you do that, then?"

"What the fuck are you going on about?"

Woo-Ram looks up, sitting backwards in his chair facing Kyung-Jun. "Why did you hide your phone if you knew the consequences of forfeiting our votes?" He scoffs, shaking his head and sending his hair into his eyes. "You purposefully didn't tell us, right?"

The room is silent, with all you can hear being the thoughts echoing in your head circulating around his repetition of what Jung-Won had said this morning.

Did they perhaps discuss it, or did he arrive at the same exact conclusion? How come Jung-Won isn't the one to bring this up now when she was the first to point out Kyung-Jun hours earlier?

Something gnaws at you for even starting to suspect Jung-Won when you hadn't initially. The feeling only hit you in the midst of disarray and now it refuses to leave no matter how hard you try to dissuade yourself that it couldn't be Jung-Won. You steal a glance at her, but she's simply staring at the ground, hands holding the sides of her chair, feet still and flat against the floor, body unmoving.

She's one of your closest friends—one of the few people you trusted the most. Surely, she wouldn't lie to you this way, would she?

Oh, how the betrayal would hurt.

Kyung-Jun's angry defense reels you back into the conversation as he once again, deflects the blame onto Jun-Hee. "I told you. How can we trust this bastard?"

"If you didn't believe it then, why tell us to follow through?" Woo-Ram pushes, dead set on incriminating Kyung-Jun.

You had no idea what Woo-Ram's role was, but you knew for sure Kyung-Jun wasn't part of the Mafia. He may be inhumane, caring about no one aside from himself, but all the things he's done in the name of self-preservation has been in-character, matching his notorious personality. The only thing that troubled you about him was his cornering of Jun-Hee.

Kyung-Jun chuckles darkly. "Don't try to cast the spotlight on me now. It's too late for that, Woo-Ram." The way he says the name scares you, like he knows something no one else does. "It's you who killed Joo-Young. Do you think I wouldn't know?"

Stammering, Woo-Ram grips the backrest of his chair tightly, fingers turning white from the force of his hold. "W-What?"

"You confessed to her only for it to end in rejection," Kyung-Jun details bluntly. "She spread the incident online where in place of sympathy, all you received was criticism. No one took pity on you and instead sided with her, bashing the one who bared their heart." He laughs sardonically. "Usually, people root for the one who professes for their courage in speaking up, yet you were a lost cause." Kyung-Jun raises one eyebrow, going in for the kill. "You've always been nothing but pathetic in the end."

"Did you seriously think I meant what I said to her?!" Woo-Ram whisper-yells. "I was joking. It was a prank. I was dared to do it." Judging by his digressiveness, you knew the cat's out of the bag.

"Don't try to fool me. I'm no idiot." Kyung-Jun brushes his hair back only for it to flop back down in its usual style by the sides of his face. "You kneeled and begged her to take down the post. Everyone here knows it. We all saw how much you groveled." He turns to Mi-Na, inciting her to join with a snap of his fingers. "C'mon. You say it. You were the one who recorded the whole thing and uploaded it."

You eye Mi-Na as she agrees without reserve and you sigh, realizing just how everyone lacked a sense of loyalty.

"It doesn't pertain to this!" Woo-Ran pounds the back of his chair in irritation. "What does that have to do with this game?" By saying that, he was basically admitting to it.

"IT DOES BECAUSE YOURE A GODDAMN MAFIA!" Kyung-Jun shouts back, control of the conversation now back in his court. "You killed Ju- Won first because it would've been suspicious if you went for Joo-Young first, correct?"

You have no idea how Kyung-Jun manages to sidestep every single allegation thrown at him with ease, ultimately making his opponents seem more suspicious than him. Though you believe he has no important role, there was no denying how formidable of a player he is in this game.

"How can I be a Mafia when you're still an option? The one who relentlessly blames others," Woo-Ram retorts blandly. Even he himself seems like he knows he's on the losing end of the fight.

Kyung-Jun stands up all of a sudden, his height towering over the rest seated. "Fuck it," he says, raising his phone in the air as he makes a show of pressing the button underneath Woo-Ram's name.

[ɢᴏ ᴋʏᴜɴɢ-ᴊᴜɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴘᴀʀᴋ-ᴡᴏᴏ ʀᴀᴍ.]

"Don't listen to him!" Woo-Ram turns and appeals to the rest. "It's really not me!"

Looking down, Kyung-Jun pats Woo-Ram's cheek mockingly, more like a slap to the side of his face before grabbing his chin and squeezing roughly, angling it up so Woo-Ram has no choice but to look at him. "These are the eyes of a killer. He's one hundred percent Mafia through and through," Kyung-Jun declares with certainty, pushing Woo-Ram by the chin, twisting his neck to the side harshly.

Before a fight can break out, So-Mi grabs a hold of both of Kyung-Jun's arms and tries to pin them down. As far as you were concerned, So-Mi and Woo-Ram were good friends but not to the point where she would go out of her way to help him. There was more to this interaction than meets the eyes.

You jump in your seat as Kyung-Jun casts her to the side callously, her hip slamming against the edge of the nearest table with a hard thud, sure to leave a bruise. She yelps in pain, hand holding her side. "Hands off me, you filthy bitch. You're next after him." He throws an unnoticeable look in your direction before rounding on So-Mi. "You've done much worse than Woo-Ram."

A single tilt of Kyung-Jun's head is enough to send a quiet message across to his lackeys, both pulling out their phones, screens bright.

[sʜɪɴ sᴇᴜɴɢ-ʙɪɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴡᴏᴏ-ʀᴀᴍ.]

[ᴋɪᴍ ᴊɪɴ-ʜᴀ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴡᴏᴏ-ʀᴀᴍ.]

"You lot of jerks!"

Kyung-Jun shuts Woo-Ram up instantaneously by effectively yanking him by his collar, choking him one-handed, eyeing the room as he addresses everyone. "You should all vote for him too. Who knows what trivial reasons he has hidden to kill you?" His eyes slide over toward Mi-Na sitting on the edge of her seat. "He holds so many grudges against you. Since Joo-Young is dead, you better watch out. Maybe it'll be your turn soon." He releases his fingers effortlessly and Woo-Ram drops like a dead fish face first onto the table, gasping for air.

With that, Kyung-Jun saunters out of the room, his friends in tow, Seung-Bin shoving Jun-Hee out of the way as he tries to get them to stay.

Slowly one by one, everyone disperses, Ji-Soo taking hold of Yu-Jun's hand and dragging him away the catalyst in driving the others to follow suit, filing out without listening to Jun-Hee's calls. You can tell by his eyes just how much it pains him having lost so much respect, authority as class president having diminished in the blink of an eye.

[ᴄʜᴏɪ ᴍɪ-ɴᴀ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴡᴏᴏ-ʀᴀᴍ.]

"That crazy witch." Woo-Ram makes way to locate Mi-Na, but Jun-Hee stops him.

"Don't," Jun-Hee warns. "Think of what this will make you look like if you go after Mi-Na just as Kyung-Jun said." He squeezes Woo-Ram's shoulder. "I'll persuade them."

Before he can leave, Yoon-Seo walks in, supporting a still-limping Na-Hee, Hyun-Ho and Dong-Hyun behind them.

"What's going on? What happened?" Yoon-Seo looks around at all your stricken faces.

"I fell prey to Kyung-Jun's plot," Jun-Hee acknowledges. "I shouldn't have let them vote for Woo-Ram."

"Do you think they would've listened to anyone but themselves?" Jung-Won questions, her point standing.

"Instead of talking here, don't we have to sway the others to choose someone else?" So-Mi brings her nails to her mouth, biting at it worriedly.

"Who would we ask them to vote for?" Jung-Won shoots back, exasperated at So-Mi's inept attempt at rational thinking.

"I don't know," So-Mi drags the syllables out, pricked. "Anyway, it'll be fine as long as it's not us."

"Of course you would say that." You fix her with a sharp gaze, analyzing from your spot atop a table beside Hyun-Ho.

"What's that supposed to mean, you bit—" She steps toward you but Jun-Hee is quick to shield you behind him and she backs down, quieting.

"If only we knew more about the other team," Na-Hee mutters.

[ɪᴍ ᴇᴜɴ-ᴄʜᴀɴ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴡᴏᴏ-ʀᴀᴍ.]

[ɴᴀᴍ ʏᴇᴏɴ-ᴡᴏᴏ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴡᴏᴏ-ʀᴀᴍ.]

[ʙᴀᴇᴋ ᴇᴜɴ-ʜᴀ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴡᴏᴏ-ʀᴀᴍ.]

[ᴊɪɴ ᴅᴀ-ʙᴜᴍ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴡᴏᴏ-ʀᴀᴍ.]

"How can they do this to me?!" Woo-Ram laments loudly, pacing the room.

"Right!" So-Mi exclaims, cutting him off. "Ji-Soo and Yu-Jun are on our side. I'll find them and talk to them."

Yoon-Seo turns to Woo-Ram, kindly assuring him. "It's okay. We'll find a way."

He's having none of it though, nearly crazed. "A way?" He chuckles sadly. "A way?!" His fists pound the table forcefully and Yoon-Seo, standing closest to him, flinches. "Screw this. I have no choice. It's me or Kyung-Jun. It won't end before one of us dies." He delivers the ultimatum, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Let's do the same thing he does; vote for anyone else."

Jun-Hee turns to him, dismayed. "You would stoop to his level...?"

"He always bullies others. That reason alone is enough as to why that scumbag deserves to die. Kyung-Jun will do anything to survive." He looks at the half circle of people, meeting all your eyes. "Say he kills me today. What will happen tomorrow then? Who do you think will be the next sacrifice?" Woo-Ram takes pause for emphasis. "You—it will be one of you, and he won't stop until the whole class roster is wiped clear." Woo-Ram points to himself then at the door. "Make a choice."

"Woo-Ram is right," Na-Hee agrees, even though she wasn't present for the entirely of the discussion. "I'll vote for Kyung-Jun."

"Me too," So-Mi supplies, glancing at Woo-Ram.

"Then I'll follow," Jung-Won gives her word to Woo-Ram, which only further unnerves you. Just what deal did the three of them have to keep sticking to one another?

Seeing the rest of you hesitate, Woo-Ram implores, sweating and eyes glazed over in a frenzy. "Guys, if you don't help me, I'll die. Can you live with the fact that you sent me to my death? Please. Please help me," he begs.

Due to his guilt tripping, everyone ends up voting for Kyung-Jun in rapid succession, but your finger hovers between the two candidates, torn.

[ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ɢᴏ ᴋʏᴜɴɢ-ᴊᴜɴ.]

[ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ɢᴏ ᴋʏᴜɴɢ-ᴊᴜɴ.]

[ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴡᴏᴏ-ʀᴀᴍ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ɢᴏ ᴋʏᴜɴɢ-ᴊᴜɴ.]

[ʟᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴏɴ-sᴇᴏ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ɢᴏ ᴋʏᴜɴɢ-ᴊᴜɴ.]

[ᴀʜɴ ɴᴀ-ʜᴇᴇ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ɢᴏ ᴋʏᴜɴɢ-ᴊᴜɴ.]

[ᴏʜ ᴊᴜɴɢ-ᴡᴏɴ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ɢᴏ ᴋʏᴜɴɢ-ᴊᴜɴ.]

[ᴊᴀɴɢ ʜʏᴜɴ-ʜᴏ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ɢᴏ ᴋʏᴜɴɢ-ᴊᴜɴ.]

[ᴋɪᴍ ᴅᴏɴɢ-ʜʏᴜɴ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ɢᴏ ᴋʏᴜɴɢ-ᴊᴜɴ.]

"Why are you hesitating?" Woo-Ram probes, all attention directed at you.

"I'm still thinking," you answer, feeling bad for him but also not wanting to make the wrong choice at the same time.

"About what?" So-Mi's eyebrows raise, incredulous. "Are you seriously considering all the lies Kyung-Jun told?!"

"Seol-Hwa," Jung-Won adds in, in a much nicer tone. "There's nothing to contemplate. Woo-Ram's right. Kyung-Jun is trouble." She looks at you warmly but all you can sense is the distance between the two of you, ever-widening.

"You and Kyung-Jun..." So-Mi starts, crossing her arms. "I wasn't going to say anything, but what's with the unspoken truce all of a sudden?"

Jung-Won pats your hand softly. "If he's blackmailing you, please tell us. He shouldn't do that to you of all people."

"No, it's not like that," you reassure, pulling your hand away gently, her touch cold. "I just don't want to vote rashly and then have us deal with the consequences in the morning. Have we not regretted things enough?"

"We have a lot of time remaining," Yoon-Seo settles nicely, ever the peacemaker. "Don't feel pressured to make a decision yet. We all know how difficult it always is." She smiles softly at you, genuine.

Woo-Ram doesn't say anything aside from staring helplessly at your phone, the only one yet with a vote placed.

"You let me know if that punk is messing with you," Hyun-Ho drapes an arm around your shoulder protectively. "I won't let him live it down, okay?" His fingers squeeze your shoulder comfortingly.

"We know what he's like," Jun-Hee intones. "He can bend lies and turn them into truths, so you can tell us even if it's hard to say. I'll always believe you, no matter what."

"Or..." So-Mi picks up again. "Is it something you can't ever tell us?" She smirks lightly, no one else ever the wiser to the slight uplift of the corner of her lips. Her hand comes up in a fake show of shock, mouth open behind her fingers. "Did you sleep with him and now you have to be on his side, afraid he'd use that secret against you? You can say you slipped up."

Before anyone can react, you use your hand with the phone still in your clutch and smack it clear across her face. Filled with so much force and ire, it snaps her head to the side, hair flying in disarray. The skin below her left eye bleeds from the cut, the surrounding area already left with an imprint.

She whips her head back your way, fingers clasping her cheek gradually turning red as she gapes at you in plain and utter disbelief.

You lean toward her, eyes innocent and wide, not able to tamper down your satisfaction at the sight of her cowering away.

"My hand slipped."

Powering your phone off, you walk away to echoes of shouts in the form of your name, yanking the classroom door shut behind you with a slam. The sound of its oscillating hinges reverberates repetitively like a gavel hitting the judgment stand with finality.

Your decision has been made.

𝟬𝟰 : 𝗖𝗥𝗜𝗠𝗦𝗢𝗡 | 𝟬𝟲 : 𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗦

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© 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟’ 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨, 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.

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nethhiri · 3 months ago

Text

Chapter 56: Prometheus

Warnings: Torture, murder, violence, body horror, references to rape

It was deeply satisfying to watch dullness enter Warthin's eye, the one that you hadn't blown through his head. It wasn't enough. You needed to kill him in the worst ways a hundred times over before it would be enough. Warthin's brains slid back into place, followed by the fragments of his skull that had shattered into the wall behind him as your devil fruit pulled him back from hell. The livid state you were in didn't allow for failure. He would be coming back to face his well-deserved punishment. A yellow glow made a veil over his abdomen as his intestines knit themselves back together, and the skin over them. Warthin was still for entirely too long. You slapped his face until his hand twitched and he inhaled a loud, gasping breath as his consciousness returned. Confusion clouded his expression.

You laughed. "Oh you thought that was it?" You landed a solid punch across his face. "You stupid fuck." You punched him again, hard enough that he drooled blood. You spit onto your fingers and smeared it across his dry, bloodshot eyes. "That's better, isn't it? I need you to be able to see everything that's coming to you."

He started to say something and you hit him across the face.

"Shut the fuck up." You spat at him. "You'll speak when I tell you to speak." You punctuated it with a kick into his stomach.

You wanted to do so much more to him. The energy it took to heal him had taken a lot out of you and you weren't so sure that you could do it again today. So you could either fuck him up to the brink of death without killing him, or play with one of the other prisoners. There was always the option of doing both. You also didn't want him to accidentally die on you, since you weren't sure if there was a time limit to reviving him. Not enough of your anger was alleviated by your quick killing of Warthin. You weren't ready to leave this room, not ready to face any of the crew.

You walked up and down the wall of tools, running your hands over the options. Something painfully slow would be best, but you also needed something that allowed you to vent. Most people were afraid of the larger tools. Those were the least frightening in your opinion. They usually killed quickly. The worst ones were the tiny tools. Those could make torture last for weeks. That must have been why they were your favorite. You selected some needles of varying sizes, along with nails and a hammer.

You walked back to Warthin tossing the hammer in your hand and catching it. He appeared as if he was going to be sick. "After everything you've done, you're afraid of a hammer?" You set it down, along with the nails. "The hammer is for later. You can stop being so dramatic." You held the needles up in your hand. "These are for now."

Taking one of his hands, you chose a finger at random. He tried to wrestle it from your grip though he was too weak to do so. You placed the needle under his fingernail and slowly pushed it as far as it would go. Warthin managed to hold it together for the first few. As you jammed another under the same nail, he was crying and begging for you to stop.

"If I recall, I don't believe you showed me kindness like that at any time. I'm very much into the whole 'eye for an eye' thing."

You moved on and did the same thing to his other fingers until you were out of needles. Shame. You had wanted to do his toenails, too. You paused to think before yanking some of the needles out of his fingers, ripping a scream from him. You would simply spread the love with the needles from there. The toenails he tolerated far less well. He tried kicking and screaming and begging. He was going to run out of voice soon and this wasn't even the worst of what you had planned.

Blood dripped from his feet and the tips of his fingers. Should have saved one for his cock. Oh well. There was plenty of time for that later. You picked up the hammer and some of the nails. You held the nails between your teeth casually, as if you were putting up a picture frame. You were hanging up a masterpiece... of sorts. Your lip curled as you tasted metal on your tongue. It reminded you of Kid, reigniting your anger towards him. Flipping a nail around between your fingers, you decided hands and feet first. That would force him to be still. You centered a nail on his hand and pressed it flat against the wall. When you brought the hammer down, the fleshy crunch of the metal separating bone and connective tissue was almost completely drowned out by Warthin's screaming. The next hand was the same. The feet were harder to nail down because of their shape, naturally. The problem solver that you were, you broke his ankles with the hammer so you could bend the feet to your liking. Then you nailed those down, too.

Next, you meticulously placed nails so that they were just under the skin, nailing them along his arms and any place that was flush with the wall. The idea wasn't to hold him in place with these. It was so that he would be forced to hold still. If he didn't, the nails would rip through the thin layer of skin. The evenly spaced drips of crimson running down his body really did look like some sort of macabre art. You stood back to admire it before taking the hammer to his kneecaps. The sick crunch that they made gave you goosebumps. At this point, Warthin was sobbing.

"Just kill me... please."

"Oh I will, you fucking worm." You licked your lips and got into his face. "I will kill you over and over again, until I'm satisfied. And every single thing that you did to me, and I mean every single thing, will be repaid." You pulled another needle from his hand and held it in front of his face. You dragged the point of it over his cheek before putting it at the entrance of his nostril. "Plus interest." Pushing the needle in, Warthin started shrieking again, his voice cracking with fatigue. You didn't stop until you felt the tip hit bone, just before tickling his brain.

You sighed, feeling a bit better. Still, not enough to sate you. Your eyes bounced among the remaining prisoners that were staring blankly in fear back at you. You mushed your hand against your cheek and grumbled in thought.

"Mini, I can't choose." The boar had been patiently guarding the door. "You pick."

The boar rose from her sitting position and her hooves made distinctive footsteps across the flooring. Her broad, pink-tinted nose glittered in the low light and you could see it twitch. The boar's head hung with intent and she sniffed each prisoner. You whole-heartedly believed that animals could smell fear, and that animals took after their owners. Although you considered Mini to be a partner, not a pet, she still adopted some of your personality. Minerva came to a stop in front of one of the men chained to the wall. Her head turned slowly towards him and her ears flicked forward. The man instantly pissed himself, further solidifying your beliefs.

"Him, huh?" You sat on one of the torture racks. "Hmm. You start. I'm tired."

Minerva bit down on one of the man's legs and pulled. Unfortunately for the man, he was still chained to the wall. Once the chains pulled tight, Minerva shook her head like a dog. Underneath the rattling of the chains, you could hear wet pops and cracks as joints tore.

"My mistake. Let me help you with that." You touched the chains and they unlocked with your devil fruit, returning to your seat afterward.

The man was free. He tried with all his remaining strength to get to you, knees and ankles bending unnaturally. Minerva went after him, but you put your hand up to stop her. You wanted to watch him crawl so desperately across the floor. Chuckling, you called after him, like a dog.

"C'mon. You can do it, Fido." You clapped your hands. "You dumb fucking mutt."

He continued to move towards you, sweat rolling down his forehead with pain and effort. When he got within arm's reach of you, you waved Minerva to continue. The boar grabbed his foot in her mouth, jerking him backwards. She tossed her head and threw him up in the air. The ceiling wasn't very high, so the poor sap hit the wood and fell back to the floor. In a very excited way, she flung him in the air again and caught him with the business end of her tusks, impaling him. Dark red blood ran down her snout, soaking into the fur and dripping from her chin. She shook him around like a rag doll and warm blood spatter hit you. It was like watching a puppy play with a dead squirrel. The iron taste hit your tongue as you laughed. So cute. The boar dragged him against the wall to slide his body off her tusks. The she grabbed his leg again and hit him against the ground and the wall. The man had stopped screaming a few minutes after he was gored. He bled out.

There was a pile of barely recognizable humanoid flesh at Mini's feet. You rose from your seat to select one of the cleaver type blades. What kind of host would you be if you didn't feed the prisoners? With one solid whack, the blade severed the lower leg. That didn't have enough meat on it for your liking. A few more good hits and the thigh was freed. If not for Mini breaking the femur, it would have been a lot more difficult to get through. It was a lot heavier than it appeared. You tucked the cut of meat under your arm and left the rest for Mini to dispose of.

You dripped blood all the way to the kitchen. You had no idea what time it was and thankfully the it was not in use at the moment. One, you didn't want to see Killer and two, you had to play chef. Placing the meat down on a cutting board, you pulled out a big pot. You left bloody fingerprints on just about every surface as you boiled the partial leg. Killer would be pissed and that made you smirk. It smelled a lot like pork, and looked a lot like pork, and it probably tasted like pork, too. You wouldn't be indulging in the delicacy, however. You shredded the meat off the bone and piled it on a plate.

When you returned to the dungeon, Mini had finished off the prisoner. There was nothing left but a red stain on the floor. Soon they would all be red stains on the floor. You were eagerly hoping to force feed Warthin the same way he did to you. What you weren't accounting for was his ravenous hunger after several days of starving. You pushed handfuls of his comrade into his mouth and held your hand in place until he swallowed. This was fine, too. You didn't think that any of them had caught on yet, too focused on their bellies clawing from within. You went around the room, like the good little waitress you were and gave everyone their share before coming back to Warthin and giving him the rest.

"Did you like that? You may speak." A smug grin made its way to your lips.

"Yes." He didn't look you in the eye.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, Captain L/N."

"Be grateful that I even cooked it for you. You could have had it raw, like Mini here."

The man in front of you turned green, and his living comrades that understood did as well. "W-what do you mean?"

"Uh uh." You tutted. "You better keep it all in. It's good for you."

"W-what is it?!" His tone was more panicked.

"Don't you mean 'who'?"

You heard vomiting behind you as you watched Warthin struggle to keep from heaving.

"If you throw it up, I'll make you eat it from the floor."

He started crying again. "I didn't do this to you!"

"I said I would repay you plus interest. This is interest."

"You fucking bitch!"

You put your hand behind your ear. "That's what I like to hear. Writhe for me, worm!"

Unfortunately he was able to keep everything down, so you couldn't make him eat his puke. You left with Mini, completely spent. You wanted to keep going, but your powers needed to refresh. At least you were courteous enough to return the plate you borrowed. When you returned to the kitchen, it had been cleaned up of your mess. You climbed on the counter to get to the top cabinets, where the good liquor was kept. The best liquor was kept in Kid's room. You weren't about to go in there no matter how much you wanted to get shitfaced though. You grabbed two bottles and made your way to the deck.

Leaning on the rail at the bow, you pounded one of the bottles and chucked the empty glass into the sea. The other one you nursed as you watched the dark waves. It was sometime at night, probably not long after everyone tucked in. There was no moon tonight. No light reflected from the waves, only blackness. It seemed fitting for your mood. Your legs felt tingly and warm as the liquor kicked in, followed by the rest of your body not long after.

"That doesn't count as dinner." A soft voice behind you said. "Let me make you something."

You ignored him and took a long drink from the bottle.

"Y/N..."

"Don't pretend to care now. Fuck off, Massacre Soldier."

It hurt his feelings that you wouldn't even call him by his name. "I do care!"

"You won't be fooling me again." You finished the rest of that bottle, too, and walked past him without even giving a glance in his direction.

Killer didn't say anything else. Whatever he said while you were like this would be used against him somehow. He hated seeing you hurting, especially because it was at his own hands.

You wanted to be alone. There was no where for you to go but the infirmary. You didn't want to be there and you hoped the door between the infirmary and Kid's workshop was closed. In fact, you were going to get rid of it. No need for it anymore. You didn't want to see Kid's face at any point in the near future. The lights were off when you went in and the door was shut, as you had hoped. You placed your hands against the door to the workshop, testing to see if you could muster enough power to transform it back into a plain wooden wall. The hairs on the back of your neck rose a half-second before you felt a presence behind you.

"What do ya think yer doing, bunny?"

"Getting rid of this."

"No the fuck ya aren't." The smell of alcohol overtook you as Kid hovered over you from behind.

"Watch me."

Kid roughly grabbed your shoulder, spun you around, and shoved your back to the door, pinning your hands above your head in his metal hand. "I'M THE CAPTAIN. WHAT I SAY IS LAW. AND I SAID YA AREN'T!"

"I was blind, not deaf."

Kid grabbed your cheeks with his flesh hand. "Always such a smart mouth. That mouth can be hurtful ya know."

"Like I said to Killer, FUCK OFF."

"See that's exactly what I'm talkin about. Talk nice to yer captain." Kid's hand shifted until his thumb toyed with your lower lip.

"Not in the mood, Eustass."

"I see." Kid laughed. "I'll play along." He bent down to kiss your neck.

"What? No! I'm being serious. Get off me!" You tried to tug your hands out of his grip. When that failed, you pulled your legs up and kicked him square in the chest. "I fucking mean it!"

Kid dropped you and staggered backwards. "Fuck! Okay!" Kid held his hands up, still stumbling a little, either from being drunk or from your kick. "I don't know why yer so upset anyway. We only did what we thought best for ya." Kid reached out to touch your cheek and you flinched.

"Because I thought you wouldn't- I thought you wouldn't- " You couldn't say it, not even half-toasted.

"Want ya anymore?"

You nodded almost imperceptibly.

Kid laughed and pulled you in for a rough hug. "Don't be sad, my wee bunny. We wouldn't give a fat damn if yassstayed blind," Kid slurred.

That was their way of showing they cared even if it wasn't how you would have liked. Deep down, you knew that. The superficial trauma that was lurking preventing you from seeing that clearly. There was more than one person in this relationship, which meant there were three points of view to see things from. You thought about forgiving him in the moment, at least before he fucked it up in the worst way possible, classic Kid.

"Who cares if yagot eyes? Yasstill have a cunt, aye?" Kid howled with laughter at his joke.

Something that was meant to lighten the mood, snapped the last heartstrings holding you together. He always seemed to say the wrong thing. In spite of the fact that he didn't mean to, he confirmed your worst worries. You were only valuable for one thing. It was hard to discern if he was truly joking. What if those were his true thoughts coming out while he was drunk? The way you were right now, in this fragile mental state, reality and your perception of reality converged and diverged at random intersections. It didn't help that you had also been drinking. This was part of the reason you didn't want to talk to either of them until you calmed down, though you thought you would be the one to say something you regretted in your anger.

You pushed him away from you, looking up at him with wet lashes. "Why would you say that?"

He was still laughing when he noticed your wet eyes. "Hah? Whass wrong?"

"Is that what you really think?"

Kid had forgotten the last bit of what he said, only referring to the first. "Course, doll."

You swallowed thickly and turned away from him before you could shed a tear.

Kid ruffled your hair as he left. "M'na go find Killer."

You slid down the door and hugged your knees to you. There was anger and sadness, and you were so sick of feeling those things. Instead, you chose to feel nothing. Tears spilled over but you didn't even know what you were crying for anymore. Because you would consider staying and living as an object just to feel like a part of something? Because you were mourning the loss of someone other than yourself giving a shit about you? Or was it that you were mourning your past self, someone you could never go back to being? You were irreversibly changed will no option to go back. You would have to move forward.

You woke up on the floor, feeling like shit. It was time to stop wallowing in your feelings. You weren't going to let your emotions take control of you. You were the Sea Snake, the Marine Killer. You were not some lovesick little girl. And you had marines to kill.

Your eye was glazed over as you went back to the dungeon with Mini. There was one thing on your mind and it was violence. That always made you feel better. As you did the day prior, you sealed the door. You were not to be interrupted. The smell in this room was enough to fell a horse. It reeked of decomposition and death, a sickly sweet, sulfurous stench. By the time you were done, the rookies would have a hell of a time cleaning up.

"Good morning, fuckwads."

You knew exactly what you wanted to do today. Going straight for the knives, you picked out some of the smaller ones. Warthin was first. He would always be first. First, you ripped out the needles from underneath his nail beds. You may have missed a few. Who cares? Next, you made a move to take the nails out of him, but you stopped. Instead, you removed his shackles so he was only attached to the wall by the nails.

"Come on. Come get me. You're free," you taunted. "Here. I'll even give you this." You curled his fingers around one of the knives. "Come on then."

False hope rose in his features. He really thought he had a chance. With a roar, he pulled himself from the wall, some nails staying embedded in it and ripping his skin off. Others were still in him. He took a step toward you and fell immediately. There was no strength in his muscles. You stepped on his wrist until he let go of the knife. You picked it up and kicked him so that he was face up. You stepped on the nails that remained in his flesh, pushing them further in. In a matter of minutes, you had him hung from the ceiling.

Picking all the nails out of him and throwing them on the floor, you circled him. "I'd like to start with a fresh canvas." You paused. "One moment." Before you healed his injuries, you needed to see him die again. You strategically placed small cuts all over his body, watching the blood create intricate designs as it poured down his skin. The rhythmic pattering of his blood trickling onto the floor was soothing. As the flow slowed, you focused your attention to his eyes, watching the life fade out of them again. After using your devil fruit to heal him, he gasped back to life. He looked healthy as ever. It was a warm feeling, knowing that you would give him a brief moment of relief before you would rip it all away again.

Grabbing one of the small knives, you began the painstaking process of skinning him. The first cuts were always the most satisfying, watching the bright orange-yellow fat poke through as you separated the layers. You grabbed the skin layer and began to cut it away, the silvery fascia, like a spider web sewing the skin down, gave way to your blade with a sound like peeling a sticker off glass. It was music to your ears, the chorus of which was Warthin screaming and sobbing.

"Too bad you don't have any tattoos. It would be fun to send your skin to marine HQ." You blew air out of your nose. "It's no good if there's no way for them to recognize that it's yours. You get it. You did send my eye after all." You briefly stopped what you were doing. "Actually... yeah let's go ahead and take care of that."

"N-no. No. No. NO!" He screamed louder and louder as you approached his eye with your blade.

"Shhhh. Don't worry. I'll put it back tomorrow and we can start again. This devil fruit power is really great, isn't it?"

You dragged your knife under his eye, marring him the same way that you were marred. It was unnecessary to do that to remove the globe, but he needed to match. You slipped your thumb into the socket and popped it out, blunt dissecting the muscles off so that it was free. You dangled it in front of his other eye before tossing it in Mini's mouth. Then you went back to what you were doing. You sighed. Skinning was very therapeutic.

Hours had gone by before you were done. There was no light down here, so there was no sense of time passing. It was more for the prisoners, though it was true for you too. Because of your focus, you didn't really get thirsty or feel hunger. All you cared about was doling out punishment.

"Oh, fuck." You were on the last portion of Warthin's skin when you buttonholed it. You made a noise of disapproval. "Well, we're gonna have to start all over again."

Warthin took a break from screaming to glance at you, horrified. You smiled back at him.

His skin looked like a discarded leather jacket on the floor. After putting it all back on him, a few hours more and you had re-skinned him perfectly. In fact, maybe you would turn it into a leather jacket. Was that too far? To wear human skin? You looked at the remaining prisoners. This opportunity shouldn't be wasted on destruction. There was creation to explore.

You pulled two prisoners off the wall. They were still shackled to it, but had room to walk. Ever since the day with the fruit, you had wanted to try this. Placing a hand on both men, they started to glow and seemed to be sucked together, melting into each other. They became one person. The way they were twitching and stumbling, it was possible the brain did not meld correctly. Using your devil fruit, you separated them again. That didn't go correctly either. One had three limbs and the other had five. After shuffling them together a few more times, they were back to being two separate people, mostly. They might not have the correct amount of fingers per hand, but they added up to ten.

You played with them like they were dolls, taking them apart and putting them back together again. One man had four arms now. Another had feet for hands. You gave one a third eye, then harvested it and transplanted it into Warthin. He looked cold so you made him a jacket from another prisoner's skin. You had placed his skin on one of the tables and started to fill it with organs you made copies of from the others. You borrowed a few bones from the prisoners as well until you could make a complete skeleton. You had everything but the head and the muscles. From one of the men that didn't come back so well from being fused, you stripped muscle, just the major ones. It would take too long to do all of them. You borrowed his spinal cord too. With your devil fruit, you were panting as you wove everything together into a fucked up humanoid body.

The man who you borrowed most everything from, you took a cleaver to his head, severing it. You would need it to keep Warthin's body alive. Taking the same cleaver, you separated Warthin's head from his body. Quickly, you fused the other man's head to Warthin's body and Warthin's head to the patchwork mannequin you had made. The other man shrieked so you knew that was successful. Warthin's head, however, was not doing anything. You punched the chest of the meat suit a few times with no luck. There were some limitations to your powers. You couldn't create life.

Growling in frustration you ripped Warthin's head off the failed body prototype and traded it back with the other man so that he was reattached to his original body.

"YOU'RE INSANE! WHAT THE FUCK?!" Warthin screamed when his consciousness rebooted.

"If you have enough energy to scream like that, then you must not be hurting enough." You took a step towards him.

"DO NOT COME ANY CLOSER, YOU PSYCHO BITCH! HELP! HELP! GET ME AWAY FROM HER!"

"That's hurtful. You liked me plenty when I was the one chained up. How does it feel to be a piece of meat for my pleasure?"

"HELP! ANYBODY!"

With a wave of your hand sound no longer are out of his mouth. "You're annoying me." You wanted to get rid of his mouth altogether, however you had plans for his mouth. You released him from the ceiling and dragged him to one of the other prisoners. "I'll give you your skin back. If you suck his dick." You nodded your head to the other man.

He looked at you with pleading eyes.

"Be glad it's only your mouth today."

His eyes went wide and he paled.

"Yeah, no. Unfortunately you did rape me quite a lot. And I have to keep my word that I would repay every single thing you did to me." You turned your attention to the others. "Shouldn't be a problem with you guys, right? You love to rape." You shoved Warthin to his knees and kicked him closer to the other prisoner with your foot. "Get to it."

Tag List: @bbnbhm @nocturnalrorobin @wgwingguns

#yay now it's Warthin's turn!#one piece #marooned #eustass kid #massacre soldier killer #x reader #eustass kid x reader #massacre soldier killer x reader

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