#instead of the story giving her more time to learn from others

[readerstories]

When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 6/?

Some light word-building, and a try at explaining a little with reader's thinking/worldview. And of course, a soulmate :3 Next chapter in about a week(+/- a day)! (AO3) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn

Wordcount: 2506

Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.

It’s been a week since you saw either of them. 

Your soulmates. 

You don’t like them being that, you could call them something else you suppose. But calling them their names all the time is more of a mouthful, and though you gave them nicknames before you learned their names, giving them new ones seems worse than just calling them what they are. (Even as much as you hate it.)

The ache in your shoulders and upper back has settled to a near permanent thing now, only fleeting relief for the for the briefest of moments if you massage the area. 

You know why it doesn’t fade, but you don’t want to admit that to anyone, especially not Evelyn when you visit her for a check up, this time at home in her and Olivia’s apartment.

You wonder how many other people have to bring brownies to their doctor appointments as you ring Evelyn’s and Olivia’s doorbell outside the building. To be fair, not everyone else’s doctor works as a veterinarian and has a wife that would kill you if you didn’t bring them (not really, but sometimes you think Olivia is certainly capable of doing so). 

Said wife is the one who buzzes you in, and greets you in the hallway just outside their front door with an enthusiastic yell of your name, and a hug that makes you let out a small grunt of pain that you try to hide in favor of hugging her back with the arm not currently holding onto the strap of your backpack.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re a wounded man, come in, come in, Evelyn is just setting up.” Her beautiful dark and curled hair bounces as she heads to the kitchen, and you follow her after making sure the front door is closed behind you.

The kitchen table is covered in towels, towels you know are specifically for this purpose, since none of them are the cute patterns Olivia loves. You also know that underneath there’s cling wrap covering the table, for cleanliness and just in case. It hadn’t been often you had been on this kitchen table instead of the clinic table, but the procedure Evelyn has around it isn’t unknown to you. A lot more organized than what Wade’s and Logan’s had been. 

You banish the thought of them from your mind as you put your backpack down, dipping your hand inside to fish out the box of carefully wrapped brownies out, and present them to Olivia. She gasps at you, almost yanking the box out of your hand with how fast she takes it.

“Sometimes I swear it’s like you are my second soulmate.” Your stomach swoops at her words, and you make a face. She knows and disagrees with your view on soulmates, so you know it’s a friendly jab, and normally you wouldn’t have cared, but this time it hits something you don’t like.

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes at her, focusing on Evelyn instead as Olivia goes to put her treasure away. “Ready for me doc?” Seems to be the perfect time to ask that question as Evelyn puts gloves on and pats the table. 

“Up you go.” You do as asked, hoisting yourself up. You take your shirt off, balling it up, putting it under your head as you lay down, getting comfortable. “Feeling fine?” Evelyn starts to peel your bandages off, slowly and carefully.

“Yeah. They seem to be doing fine, in my non-medical opinion.” She hums, and you know she’s taking your words into consideration, but it won’t really matter much before she has had a look herself. You let your eyes stay open, watching the ceiling as you hear Olivia putter around the kitchen, and feel Evelyn poke around your wounds.

Nasty couple of things. Well, they had been. You have been surprised nothing had gotten infected, you had no idea how well Wade took care of his swords, how nasty or not they were. But well, to be fair to him, if you had gotten an infection, your makeshift bandages would have been just as likely a culprit.

“Looks like you won’t die anytime soon, but they’ll still leave some nasty scars behind.” Evelyn offers, seeming to be done with her inspection of you, as she changes gloves, and starts applying new bandages. You shrug, you figured out much. Nothing cuts that deep without leaving behind a mark.

Well, unless you are a super healing mutant. Even after you had tried multiple times. Both with a katana and a gun.

Should you even feel bad for hurting your soulmates like that when it was done when in panic but with the knowledge it would heal? And you got more permanently hurt?

And to be fair, Wade had knocked you out before you ever hurt them after realizing they were your soulmates, so it wasn’t like you hadn’t been hurt, but you shot them both. Caused them more pain.

So maybe you are all a little beyond messed up. 

Made for each other, like that soulmate shit implies.

You shake your head at that thought, dispelling it into the ether, which gets you a weird look from Evelyn as she finishes with your bandage.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I just haven’t been sleeping right.”

“Chest pain?” Her hands hover near your chest, but move away as you shake your head.

“No, shoulder and upper back, think I’ve accidentally pulled something.” She frowns.

“I thought I told you to not work out or put unnecessary strain on your body as you heal.” You know what it’s from, and it’s definitely not that.

“I haven’t been working out or lifting anything heavy, I promise. I’m just an old man.” You joke, she rolls your eyes at you as you sit up, taking the glass of water Olivia offers you.

“Let me know if it keeps up, and I’ll see if I can’t figure out what it is, and get you something for it.” She can’t know and won’t be able to get you anything, but still you nod.

“Am I allowed to put my shirt back on Doc, or do you just want to ogle me some more?” You joke, this earns you a slap on the shoulder by a now gloveless hand just after Olivia hands you a chocolate chip cookie. 

“Thought you were making pasta?” You get off the table and take a bite out of your cookie as Olivia smiles at you, and Evelyn starts cleaning up.

“I am, but good patients get rewards.” 

“What am I, five?” You joke, Olivia reaches out as if to take the cookie out of your hand, you take a step back. “I prefer your cookies over any stupid little toy.” Olivia’s smile is bright, and if you weren’t gay and she didn’t have a soulmate, she could have been your type. She turns around, planting a kiss on Evenlyn’s cheek as she passes her on her way to grab ingredients for the dinner she is going to make for you all.

You lean on the kitchen counter and munch on your cookie, mindful to stay in the background and out of the way for them both as they move around each other with ease. Evelyn cleaning up medical supplies and the makeshift sickbed, Olivia starting to cook dinner.

You don’t want to bring up your soulmates with either of them, since you know their stance on it all is opposite of yours, since they are themselves soulmates. You’ve had plenty of arguments about this both drunk and mostly sober. You think soulmates make one vulnerable and just bring misery in the end, they think it brings strength and that you should enjoy what good you can have in life.

So you know they would just tell you to go to your soulmates, and be with them. 

For the rest of your life. 

Ugh.

You’re fine on (mostly) your own, thanks.

—---

This time, when the universe decides it’s time for some light fuckery, it’s Logan. On his own. And it’s not while you are working. 

Not that it makes it any better.

You are taking it slow, the bar you find yourself in isn’t the fanciest thing, which suits you perfectly. The tables are mostly clean and the floor has seen better days, but they have several types of beer on tap and in bottles, a pool table, and even two shuffleboards. All in all, very casual, somewhere you could sit alone, or join a random group playing one of the games. If money sometimes exchanged hands, both between players and spectators, nobody gave a shit.

You had been a few times before, always enjoying yourself. You’re not even drinking this time, sticking to soda as much as you want to have a proper drink. You had just needed to get out of your apartment, and though you long to feel the burn of alcohol pass over them, you know it won’t heal any faster, so if you can just keep from drinking for a little longer, you can get back to the normal state of things quicker.

Well, as normal as they can get after the universe decided to change the core of your life. You were not one for company, at least not permanently.

Currently you are sitting at a table, watching two long bearded and bald men play pool, making snide comments back and forth. You had made a bet on the man with the scarred ear, but he is losing, pretty badly.

Oh well, 20 bucks isn’t the end of the world.

What kind of feels like it though, is when you spot Logan walking into the bar. He’s wearing normal clothes this time, just some jeans, boots, and a green flannel. He glances around the bar, you duck your head in the hope that he doesn’t see you.

You don’t hope for long though, as a very full glass of what looks like whiskey is sat down next to your soda, and the chair on the other side of the table becomes occupied.

“Logan.” Your uttering of his name in greeting is icy, your name falling from his lips are decidedly less so.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, feeling your shoulders ease up. Which annoys you so much, he’s just arrived, and he’s already making you feel better. You want to go, to leave, even as your loosening muscles reminds you that staying for a little bit will stave off side effects of your unfortunately shared bond. 

“Drinking.” He grunts, taking a sip of his glass. You roll your eyes and look at him for a few moments, head swirling with thoughts. You settle on one, just to have something to say as you stall and try to figure out how much time you need to feel more than just a little less shitty, though you can’t help but be actually curious as you ask.

“Can you even get drunk with your healing shit?” Logan frowns, and you wonder if that’s his default. You don’t ask about that though.

“With some effort.”

“Why the fuck even be in a bar then?” Your tone is still not kind, even as you  feel your shoulders ache just a little bit less, like you had just massaged over a good spot. He shrugs.

“Company I guess.” It’s your turn to frown.

“I have no interest in being company. Get away from me Logan, or I will make you go away.” You know you should stay close longer so you can also stay away longer, but you are still stubborn, not wanting the fuckery that is soulmates. 

At least if you just stay in the same room, it should help, you think. 

You hope. No need to stay close in the slightest. 

He takes you in, quickly glancing at you from top to toe.

“I -“ You don’t let him speak.

“What did I just say Logan?” He scowls at you, you glare back at him, but let him speak when he opens his mouth this time.

“I don’t like it.” Logan reluctantly admits as the scowl stays on his face. “This being the way we are going about things.” He clarifies.

“Though shit.” He tilts his head at you, scowl turning into more of a squint.

“Are you always this combative?” You feel like a street dog on high alert, barking in warning. 

“Fuck off.” 

“Look-” And when barks don’t work……

“You had your warning.” You say as you grab your knife from your left leg. You stab it into his hand, aiming for the skin between where the claws go through his hand, hitting the jackpot as red seeps around the knife and the tip of it burrows into the table. Seconds later there is warm and sharp metal pushing your chin up. You grin and waggle a finger at him.

“Nah ah, mortal, remember?” You twist the knife around once for good measure, making him grunt in pain, and then pull it out of his hand. You already know you are banned from this bar for life, but you don’t care. His claws retract, this time you realize it actually makes a sound. Huh.

“So you are always this combative.” Logan grits out between his clenched teeth, as his hand heals itself, leaving behind nothing but the blood that spilled out where you stabbed him.

“Fellas, time to go.” A bouncer suddenly stands in front of your table now, a t-shirt with security over his chest in big white letters. He’s huge, towering over both you and Logan, arms ready at his sides, eyes flicking between the two of you. You see Logan seize him up, and for a moment you wonder if he is going to fight the man, but his eyes go to you as you get off your chair.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” You put your knife away. “Again, fuck off Logan.” You show him the finger as you walk out. He’s just steps behind you, clearly no longer welcome in the bar either, but he keeps his distance as you both go out of the door. 

You have no idea where he's going, and you have no plans now, so you start walking in the direction of home.

After gaining some distance, you look over your shoulder. You don’t want to be followed. Logan is standing just outside of the bar, looking at your retreating back, but he takes a step forward as your eyes connect with his. You show him the finger again as you disappear around a corner.

You rub your forehead as you are out of sight, annoyance cursing through you. You think some of it might be his.

Fuck, you wish you could get drunk right now. Well, you could, but it wouldn’t be good for your healing. And you have no idea how bad or good your control over your bonds are when you’re drunk.

Just another thing for future you to figure out, you guess.

[ariadne-mouse]

Finished the first season of Netflix's Avatar the Last Airbender live action adaptation - and I enjoyed it, despite it being imperfect in many respects. I liked that you can really tell the creators were trying to capture the animated show (in comparison to the live action movie which felt almost completely alien to the source material). It felt earnest. And that's what kept me watching. Yes, the pace felt rushed, the dialogue clunky at times, and in condensing the story for the format some key aspects of character arcs were glossed over or changed. But it has its moments, and I still cried in the finale. They still got me.

[ruvviks]

made the realization my vampire story would work best as a video game and now i can't stop thinking about it

[thedevotionaltour]

karen is MY special white woman. my problematic fave. because i understand why she sucks. i think in order to be allowed to be a karen fan you have to actually understand why she sucks. if you don't understand why she sucks then you're a bad karen fan i think.

[ambrosiagourmet]

I want to talk about why I think this is the one of the most important Falin panels:

So, Falin is really nice, right? It's one of the first things we really learn about her. She's kind even to the monsters of the dungeon - choosing to ward the party rather than fight spirits and cause them needless harm.

In the above early flashback in chapter 11, we see Marcille fawning over Falin's kindness, calling her an angel. Namari calls her soft-hearted. We see Falin choose not to fight even when a zombie attacks - instead she resolves the confrontation with a hug. After the flashback, the first thing Senshi says is that Falin "sounds like quite the person," which Marcille strongly affirms.

At this point in the story, all we have seen of Falin are these impressions; she is a healer, an angel, a caretaker with an infinite well of kindness towards everyone she meets - both friend and foe.

And honestly, that remains most of what we have to go by to understand her. The only times we get to see Falin on the page, alive and just herself, are in the opening and closing pages of the story and in the brief period of time after she is resurrected.

Nonetheless, we do have some more details to work with. For one, there is the scene that The Panel is from - a short memory in chapter 75, when Marcille flashes back to while she's dying. In that scene, Falin prepares to teleport them all out, and says that she's sorry "if there is a person at [their] destination." And that's when we get The Panel.

If you teleport someone or something into another person, the person teleported into is likely to be, at minimum, severely injured. They could die.

We can see a lovely little horrifying example of exactly why in one of the Daydream Hour doodles:

So, hmm. That's not... that's not SUPER nice. Certainly not displaying the same "kindness to all, friend and foe included" we saw represented earlier. On a basic level, this adds some nuance to Falin's kindness. We see it break a little, when pushed to the limit. We see her chose to protect the people she loves above all else.

Which makes sense! As Laios says when the Winged Lion accuses him of similarly being motivated more by his friends' safety than everyone else in the dungeon, "...most people, aside from virtuous do-gooders, would feel the same way."

So, we can take The Panel as simply showing a moment of weakness for Falin. A time when she was pushed to her limits, and that "most people" selfish side of her shone through.

However... I think there's a little more going on with Falin than just her being an angel 99% of the time, except just that once. I love The Panel because I think it helps us understand that Falin isn't just motivated by kindness - she also has a desire to avoid seeing people in pain.

Isn't that the same thing?

No, no it very much is not.

Let's look at a short comic from the Falin section of the Adventurer's Bible, because I think it illustrates this point perfectly. The group is complaining about how much Marcille's healing hurts, and comparing it to Falin's, which "doesn't hurt a bit." Marcille retorts with the following:

Now, the punchline of this comic is that, despite Marcille's sentimental assertion that she's "thinking of [them]" by letting her healing magic hurt, they all still prefer to be healed by Falin.

But hey, this wouldn't be the first time that Dungeon Meshi hides a very real character beat or insight in a gag, so let's think about this somewhat seriously.

If Marcille is right (and she knows a fair bit about magic, so we can assume that she has at least somewhat of a point), then what Falin is doing isn't kind. I suppose if someone specifically requested to not feel the pain, it could be kind, but that's not really what happened here. She is the one who felt badly about the others being in pain, and she is the one who decided, without telling them or giving them a choice in the matter, to take away that pain.

Both Marcille and Falin are healing the party, but Marcille is doing it in a way that accomplishes the task in the most straight forward way, without any additional interference. Falin is going out of her way to perform the healing in a way she is more comfortable with. A way that avoids pain.

Going back the The Panel, I don't think its a coincidence that the only time we see Falin (well, non-chimera Falin) willing to do something that could hurt someone is when any potential pain will be far away from her. If she got someone hurt or killed by teleporting the party to the surface? Not only would it be far out of her sight, but she'd be dead before she had to deal with any consequences of that action.

Falin is not a confrontational person. She doesn't push when Marcille won't tell her the truth about the resurrection, and she comforts Laios about her own death - both of those things happening in the only full chapter she is alive and conscious in the whole story.

We also know that she considered accepting Shuro's proposal, despite not having any special feelings towards him, and that Falin never explained to Marcille that she wanted them to share a meal together. When she brought Marcille various foods at the academy, she just accepted Marcille's confused rejection and gave up.

And lastly, we know that she is still in contact with her parents, despite the neglect and abuse she suffered at their hands. Although the way someone chooses to handle contact with abusive or bad family is a complicated topic, which I don't want to overly simplify, I do I think this fact gets at the heart of how she handles conflict.

So many people that Falin loves have hurt her. There are understandable hurts, like Laios leaving the village, or Marcille not understanding the food. And there are bigger, far less justifiable hurts - like her parents neglecting her throughout her childhood, and sending her away to be alone at the magic academy.

It doesn't seem like Falin has ever confronted any of it directly.

And the unhealthy aspects of this kind of avoidance of pain and confrontation is one of the things that the story of Dungeon Meshi is all about. We see Laios grapple with it before he goes to kill Falin, and we see Marcille acknowledge it at the end of the story, when she tells Laios that she has come to terms with Falin's death:

Eating is a part of life. Consuming other living things is a part of life. It isn't really possible to avoid that pain - you can only hide from the truth of it. You have to be selfish everyday. You have to eat - to choose to live. To choose to take up space.

And this is something Falin embraces, too. She comes back to life, after all.

We see her choose to come back to life.

And how does she make that choice? She eats. She consumes, and then she is asked a question by the manifestation of hunger itself:

Do you want to eat more?

There is a double meaning in the Winged Lion's final words on the next page.

When I first read this, I took it as him saying: life is cruel. You will suffer. You will feel more pain.

But perhaps, especially for Falin, this also means: you are choosing a path where you must cause pain. Where you must consume. Where you must take, and must be selfish. Because eating is the special privilege of the living, and it is their burden, too. In order to stay alive, she will need to keep eating.

And she chooses that. Chooses to be selfish. It's why her resurrection scene is so important, and it's why The Panel is so important. Because Falin coming back isn't the ultimate reward for all of the party's hard work.

It's her choice. Just like it was her choice that started everything in the first place. But this time, she doesn't choose to accept causing pain for the sake of Marcille and Laios. She does it for her own sake.

[rieamena]

"mama!"

your seven year old daughter climbed onto your bed, bouncing on the mattress before settling into your warm embrace under the blankets. running a hand through her pink hair, you answered softly, "yes, sweetheart?"

it was almost like your genes didn't put up a fight at all. your child, chikara, was the spitting image of her father, your husband, ryomen sukuna. same hair, same face shape, same facial features, the only thing that seemed to be your contribution was her personality, and even then, sometimes you'll see your husband's characteristic scowl on her little face

"how did you and daddy meet?" "well, it was–"

"what's goin' on in here? conspiring against me?" sukuna's voice filled the room as he leaned against the door frame, a cheeky smirk on his face. you saw your daughter's face brighten up as she jumped down to run to her father, "daddy! daddy! mommy's gonna tell the story of when you first met!" sukuna immediately looked at you, his index finger barely being fully wrapped by his daughter's hand

"she asked me to. guess watching all those romantic dramas with her rubbed off on her." you giggled, earning a scowl from him. "shut it woman. you know i hate them." "yeah..., that's definitely why we watch 90 day fiance every sunday together." "you got a problem with— stop tryna move me brat!"

"but daddyyyyy," she whined, still pushing against sukuna's body, "i don't wanna miss mommy's story!" "we're literally seven feet away from her."

your daughter pouted and stopped trying to get her dad to move. letting go of his finger, and leaving him at the doorway, chikara plopped herself down at your side with wide, eager eyes, "go on, mommy, tell me! i wanna know everything."

you smiled, looking at sukuna, who rolled his eyes but gave a small nod. "alright, sweetheart. it all started one day in the park when i was watching over megumi, and your dad was taking care of his younger brother, yuuji…"

"yuuji?" chikara interrupted, her face lighting up. "uncle yuuji was there too?"

"yep, yuuji was just a little kid back then," you said with a soft laugh. "he was running around, being his usual energetic self, when he tripped and scraped his knee. your dad, being the great caretaker he is—"

"—i was plenty good at it," sukuna muttered

you shot him a look and continued, "—didn't seem too worried. he told yuuji to stop crying."

"i did not say it like that," sukuna cut in, pushing off the doorframe and coming closer to the bed. "i told him to toughen up. gotta learn how to handle a few scrapes."

your daughter giggled, clearly entertained by the back-and-forth. "but mommy's a nurse, so she went over to help, right?"

"exactly. i couldn't just sit there watching, so i went over, knelt down, and started cleaning yuuji's knee. and i told your father—" you paused, giving sukuna a mischievous smile, "—that he should care more about his son instead of telling him to stop crying."

your daughter gasped dramatically, eyes wide with anticipation. sukuna groaned, running a hand over his face. "i knew you'd bring that up."

"and what did daddy say?" she asked, leaning in as if she could hardly wait

"he looked at me and said, 'that's not my son, that's my brother,'" you mimicked sukuna’s low, irritated tone. "i was so embarrassed!" sukuna chuckled at the memory, shaking his head. "you should've seen your mom’s face. all high and mighty, like she was about to call child protection services on me or something."

you couldn't help but laugh, too. "anyway, i patched yuuji up, and to make up for the misunderstanding, your dad suggested we set up a playdate for yuuji and megumi."

"a playdate?"

"yup," you nodded. "though i think your dad might've had other reasons for giving me his number." sukuna scoffed, folding his arms. "that didn’t happen."

you raised an eyebrow at him. "oh? so your eyes didn’t sparkle when i smiled and told you goodbye?" sukuna groaned again, this time louder. "my eyes did not do that."

chikara giggled harder, clearly enjoying the banter. "i think daddy liked you right away!" you smiled softly. "maybe he did. i mean, why else would he take me to a skate park for our first date?" sukuna rolled his eyes. "you said you wanted to learn how to skate. i was just being nice."

"uh-huh. sure," you teased. "and he was so good at it, zooming around, showing off. i'll admit..., he did look kinda cool! i, on the other hand, spent most of the time falling."

"which is why i had to keep catching you," sukuna added, sliding into the empty space next to you on the bed. "mommy fell? did daddy save you?" chikara asked, her face lighting up at the idea

sukuna ruffled her pink hair. "more like i had to stop her from breaking every bone in her body." you rolled your eyes at him. "i wasn't that bad."

"yes, you were," sukuna said, smirking. "you almost took me down with you half the time." smiling at the memory, you leaned in to kiss your daughter's forehead. "but it was fun. and after that, we went out for ice cream, and your dad actually smiled for real that time."

"daddy smiled? really?"

sukuna shot you a half-hearted glare. "i smile."

"not back then you didn't," you teased, poking his arm. chikara turned to her dad, beaming. "i wanna learn to skate, too, just like you and mommy!" sukuna chuckled, wrapping an arm around her

"maybe one day, brat. but you’re probably gonna fall as much as your mom did."

"hey!"

gulp... sorry if sukuna is ooc, im tired and im on my period but i really liked this request so...

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@e-dollly

[dunmesh]

this panel from the world guide of falin being surrounded by other girls while laios is all alone kills me because. that's it. that's the key difference in their journeys.

as laios states himself, he left the village in order to create a home for him and falin elsewhere. a home that won't collapse due to others' hatred and fears like their old home did, a home where they are loved and accepted unconditionally. but as he soon found out, even before earning money, or having walls surrounding him and a roof above his head- what he so earnestly desired was to meet other people who will accept him for who he is as well. instead, he kept being tormented by those around him, shunned and sneered at. his loneliness quickly became all-consuming until he truly had nothing left except for the monsters in the pages of his book, but even that became a target of mockery and destroyed. that's why ever since the day he left the village, he never felt that he truly made the right choice. so he kept running away: unable to resist and unable to accpet.

and an ocean away from him there was his sister, who never managed to fully fit in herself. but unlike him, she met a person who became a home to her and learned what a true friendship was for the first time in her life. and laios clearly realizes that too when he finally sees falin and marcille together, he can tell his sister obtained the greatest treasure there is on her own- the exact thing he never managed to find anywhere himself, thus coming back empty-handed to the sister he left the village for.

but when you read this part of the manga, laios's focus is on falin's loneliness, not his own. he talks about how it hurts thinking about all those moments she had to spend alone because he wasn't there for her, so it almost sounds like he's the one who couldn't bear her suffering and therefore decided to not let her go again. but we do get a glimpse of their first meeting after that almost-decade long separation in the manga, and then we see more of that in the world guide and daydream hour- and it becomes abundantly clear that it was falin who was trying to protect and save him from this pit of loneliness and depression he was in.

so instead of just doing his best to atone for leaving her behind in the village and making sure she is never lonely again, it might also be that laios was desperately clinging to the one person in the world he felt that accepted and loved him unconditionally. those words he used to describe his motivation to stay by falin's side are the exact words she would've used as well; she couldn't bear leaving him behind in this state. in a sense, they were each other's shackles.

but then she did. she died for him and their friends, and ironically enough, it was by leaving him alone like this that he was finally able to stand on his own and put his full trust in others. to have the courage to reveal who he is and give others the opportunity to accept him after such a long time of hiding. it was a long journey, but his hiding finally came to an end when he faced the others after shedding his monster form. and i love that the person who was falin's "home" all those years away from laios, marcille, became just as meaningful to him during their time separated from falin- the first one to find him and show him that he isn't alone anymore. just as he did for her.

so at the end of the story when falin talks about all the places she would like to go, it's not just that she wants to pursue her own dreams- but that she actually feels free to do so and go anywhere she desires. and one of the main reasons for that is that her brother finally found new people he wants to be with; his own home.

[bunnis-monsters]

🕸️Legend of the Drider🕸️

Bunni’s Monstertober Event(Oct1)

Male!Drider x Fem!Reader

Oct2

warnings: light web bondage, breeding, oviposition, possessive behavior, reader is a bit insecure about her body, body worship and praise

summary: You go on a trip, hoping to build your confidence before you go back to college. When you get trapped on a mountain during a storm, you realize a legend about spider people may be real when you encounter a horny one for yourself.

A/N: I don’t know much about college so don’t kill me if things are inaccurate 💗 also don’t expect all of the halloween posts to be this long, some will be short and some on the longer side >< also guess the inspo for this story in the comments…

my ko-fi if you’re feeling generous~

If you had known how your trip up a nearby mountain would end with you in the clutches of the spider creature you’d only heard of in legends, you would have stayed home that October day.

But you were bored, wanting to find some fun stuff to film and meet a cute stranger while you were at it. That’s why you packed your bag and left for the nearby tourist attractions.

First you walked through a big pumpkin patch, taking pictures with a 50 pound pumpkin. It wasn’t as impressive as some you had seen online, and you knew that wearing a burnt orange sweater while posing next to it would only bring on ridicule.

You weren’t thin, and if someone from your college saw that picture, you were sure they’d compare you to the pumpkin, saying it was your twin.

Well… you had never even really talked to a single in any of your classes. You weren’t the type that liked to socialize. Too many times had you been burned, finding out they were being your friends for a prank or had been talking about your body behind closed doors.

Part of you knew it wasn’t right to judge others before even meeting them. After all, it happened to you more times than you could count… but you were still too shy and insecure to take that first step into making new friends.

That’s why you took a bit of time off of college to try and build up your confidence. It was important to you, learning how to love yourself so you could truly love others.

Ever since you went through puberty you had been aching for someone to love you, to adore you with their entire being…

How would you even be able to believe them if you didn’t love yourself first?

So you laughed at the picture of you next to a pumpkin and placed it into your scrap book before packing it away in your backpack.

You repeated this at several tourist attractions, even finding the courage to speak to a few attractive men and women. It wasn’t as scary as you thought, they didn’t look at you with disgust or say anything mean. They simply spoke with you before giving a smile and going about their day.

‘Maybe there really isn’t anything to be afraid of after all?’

The last stop on your list was the Arachne Mountains, named after a certain legend surrounding the area.

“Huh… spider people have been sighted several times over the year, and there’s a reward for anyone that can catch them on camera…”

You squinted at the pamphlet in your hands, trying to read the small print at the bottom. “What does that say? It’s so small…”

With a shrug, you stuffed the pamphlet into your bag, pulling out the bug spray instead and spraying every bit of bare skin. Mosquitos just loved you, and you didn’t want to be itching the whole bus ride home.

As you walked up the mountain trail, you took many pictures, but mostly of the gorgeous scenery.

A vast forestry landscape spread out beneath you, and the mountain path winded through the forest. As you continued walking, the path worn down by several years of hikers began to become more overgrown and less accessible.

“Huh… doesn’t seem like anyone’s been this far up in a while…”

When you thought about it, the stand with all the pamphlets was abandoned and dusty, the window broken. You just assumed they didn’t have the budget to fix it… but now you were second guessing yourself.

And that’s when a storm hit. Earlier that day you had heard something about a thunderstorm on the radio, but it was supposed to be that night, not now!

“Shit!”

You ran through the rain, slipping on mud and losing your way. The rain was so thick you could barely see in front of you. Tree branches scraped against your sides and caught on your clothes, ripping your sweater and scraping you up.

By the time you were finally able to take shelter in a nearby cave, you were absolutely drenched and covered in scratches and scrapes.

You slid down to the ground, panting and taking off your sweater, now heavy with water. It plopped against the ground, and you reached into your backpack.

“Fuck…”

Your phone had no signal, and you wouldn’t be able to go down the mountain to call anyone until the storm died down.

You yelped, jumping up from your seat and backing away from the entrance to the cave when lightning struck close by.

This sent you further into the cave, nearly tripping on the uneven, rocky ground.

Most would expect a cave out in the middle of nowhere to be cold and damp, and smell of moss and dust. Surprisingly, the further you traveled inside, the more… “cozy” it seemed.

It smelled almost like cinnamon and felt pleasantly warm. This made your shivering die down, your soaked clothes forgotten at the entrance of the cave.

Little did you know, you were slowly being lured in deeper by the inviting warmth and pleasant smell…

The first sign that something was wrong was a skittering that could be heard further into the cave. The hair on your neck stood up, but you tried your best to reason with yourself.

‘It’s probably just some rat or bug…’

But as your phone battery went out and darkness enveloped you without your only source of light, the noise got louder as whatever was making it approached.

You yelped when something brushed against you, and tried to scream, but your mouth was covered and something sunk into your neck…

Darkness.

——————

When you awoke, you felt something warm yet sticky enveloping you, keeping you from freezing while trapping you in place.

You were barely awake when you heard a purr like sound coming from the dark corner of the cave. A man’s face was barely visible within the shadows.

He was handsome, his eyes a dark red and hair a soft blonde, almost platinum color. It seemed he had been the one to trap you there.

“Hello, my dear. You’re finally awake…”

As soon as you were fully conscious, you began to struggle against your bonds, finally looking down to see what was keeping you from breaking free.

“Are those… webs..?”

You felt almost faint, staring down at the whitish, substance wrapped around you. It looked like thick, velvety ropes, but they were so sticky that you knew that they couldn’t be.

“Indeed.”

The man began to move forward, the same skittering sound appearing once more. You looked on in horror as his lower half was revealed.

Below his torso was not a set of legs like a normal, no, it was the abdomen of a spider.

‘The legend… is true?’

You had been captured by one of the spider people of myth…

“You must be scared… you’re just a human girl after all, and I’ve taken you away.”

He reached out, caressing your soft cheek with his hand. “But do not fear, I’m not planning on eating you, little one.”

His hand traveled down your face to your shoulder, his fingers playing with one of your bra straps.

“Far from it…”

Your cheeks heated up as he easily cut through your bra, his eyes on your now bare breasts.

“I’m in need of a mate to carry my eggs… and you’re the only woman that’s traveled to this mountain in ages…”

He breathed against your neck, licking the bite mark he left there earlier. “God, I could hardly hold myself back the moment I saw you. Such a plump, perfect woman, you’ll carry my eggs well…”

You whines as his lower half creates more webs, keeping you suspended in air, but freeing your soft cunt.

Quickly, he tore off your panties as well, growling lowly at the sight of your pretty, fat pussy. “Oh, my little mate, already this wet? Perhaps this was fate, for me to be sent this angel from above…”

He plunged a finger into you, pressing against your gummy walls and stretching you out as one of his spider legs nudged against your sensitive clit, just enough to stimulate you and get you to cum all over his fingers.

“There we go… such a good girl…” he purred into your ear, beginning to stroke his monstrous cock. He drew out several orgasms from you, prepping your virgin hole for him.

Within seconds, you were lowered down, your hips hovering over his as he nudged the head of his cock against you.

“Gods, you’re so soft…”

He kneaded your fat belly and thighs, purring in delight. “You’ll make such a good mother… you’ve got child bearing hips, like you were just meant to carry my eggs…”

Soft nips and nibbles were left on your neck and breasts.

“Every ten years, us driders go out to find a mate that’s suitable for us. I am the last of our kind, so there are no females left for me…”

He smiled, beginning to push in.

“But you… are not just going to be the woman that carries my eggs. You’ll be my mate, and I’ll cherish you.”

It was uncomfortable and painful, the way his cock stretched you out. You gritted your teeth and he cooed, but wouldn’t allow you to close your legs, two of his spider legs kept your thighs apart so he could sink deeper into your fat cunt.

“Shh, shh… it’ll feel good soon, my love…”

And he was right, his cock stretched you in such a delicious way, hitting all the right spots and making you cry out in pleasure.

He mounted you, fucking into your needy cunt as he groaned into your ear. “Gonna take my eggs, okay? My sweet girl, you’ll be such a good mommy won’t you?”

Suddenly you felt something push into you. Was that…

He was cumming, eggs filling up your pussy and settling into your womb. Soon your belly would swell as the eggs grew and developed, but for now, you were tired…

He kissed along your shoulders and neck, nuzzling into. Slowly, he lowered you down from the webs, curling up with you in a dark corner of the cave.

“You’ll be pampered, well taken care of… never again will you worry about a single thing…”

As you began to drift off to sleep, you realized that this creature truly thought you were beautiful… it made you happy.

So you snuggled into him, too full of cum and eggs to really even try escaping. Why would you?

You were loved… you felt truly beautiful for the first time in your life.

“I’ll prepare a cabin soon, there’s plenty of abandoned ones nearby. Wouldn’t want my mate to be uncomfortable.”

The way he nuzzled into you was filled with such love and care. He must have been lonely, being the last of his species.

So you decided to stay… at least for now…

Want a part 2? Send me a kofi and ask for it~

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat

[seresinhangmanjake]

Could we please get Feyd x reader where they have an arranged marriage with feyd and the House Harkonnen expects her to be replused by him . But instead reader is completely obsessed with him and finds him so hot because he is lol and he can do no wrong. LOVE YOUR FEYD STORIES 💌

Unexpected

Feyd-Rautha x Reader

Notes/Warnings: None, i think. I mean, arranged marriages? That's not really a warning though. Anyway, i fear this kind of sucks. My writing has been messed up lately. Hopefully, you guys still enjoy it anyway.

Words: 2100

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

They’ve been chattering for what has felt like hours—going on about dresses and parties, servant boys they find particularly interesting—and at some point, your mind could no longer take the dull droning, and so you drifted onto thoughts of him. 

You know everything about him, read everything about his family. You saw his face in an updated textbook about the Great Houses, drawn in what you hope is a perfect likeness, because if it is, then he’s absolutely stunning. You’ve never seen anything like the Harkonnens, but then again, they look like no one else. They’re wholly unique and you want everything to do with them—well, specifically, everything to do with Feyd-Rautha. 

“I can’t believe they’re marrying you off to him,” one of your friends—the daughter of House Wallach—says.

You snap out of your thoughts, wondering when the conversation turned toward you and your soon-to-be husband. You hum in question, needing more time to provide an answer that won’t induce raised brows and dropped jaws. 

“Yes,” the other says—Duke Leto’s daughter, whose bedroom balcony you’re currently sitting on. “How can they do that to you? You’re their only daughter and they are giving you to a murderous House.”

“We’re all murderous Houses,” you quickly say, and from receiving the blank stares you’d hoped to avoid, raise your teacup to your lips to hide your blush. You take a sip, then continue. “What I mean is, history states we’ve all dealt with bloody hands. That’s how our families are where they are.”

“Well, the rest of us don’t kill anymore. Our families are praised, worshipped.”

“So are the Harkonnens.”

“Out of fear,” Wallach reminds you. “The Baron is vile, as if you don’t know, and he trained Feyd-Rautha to be just as insane.”

Insane. That word has been used a lot lately. Your mother shouts it at your father for his willing agreement with the Baron. Your servants whisper it amongst themselves when they think you cannot hear them. That boy is insane, they say. She’s doomed, they say. But you don’t see it that way. You’re not scared of Feyd-Rautha. You’ll admit you don’t so much care for the Baron, but that’s because you’ve heard of his treatment of your future husband.

People claim Feyd-Rautha’s a lapdog—you don’t believe that. From what you’ve learned, you see no puppy in Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. You see a lion on the prowl, biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike from below. You see a man hunting his dinner. You hope upon meeting, he gobbles you up as well. 

“Aren’t you terrified?” Atreides asks. “Don’t you think about your first night with him?”

You certainly do. Another sip of tea hides another blush. “I’m not worried.”

Wallach blows out a huff of breath. “Maybe you’re as insane as he is.”

Yes, you think maybe you are. 

—

Your mother struggles to hand you over. You’re the one who has to pry her gripping fingers from your arm so you can step forward and bow to the Baron. When you rise, you sneak a peek at Feyd-Rautha just to his uncle’s right. He’s as beautiful as his picture depicted. His eyes are just as glazed over with steel as you imagined. He looks at you, and the steel melts ever so slightly. His brow pinches. He swallows hard. 

“I trust my daughter will be well taken care of,” your father says, a puff expanding his chest. It makes him look no more menacing than he is. 

The Baron chuckles. “In the hands of my nephew, you can expect no less.”

You know it’s a lie. One corner of Feyd-Rautha’s lips quirks upward. He has plans for you—good. You like plans. You have plans of your own. 

He steps down the staircase that has held him above you and your family and takes your hand in his. He presses his lips to your knuckles. Your blood zings throughout your veins. If this is all it takes for you to feel this way, you can’t imagine what more will do to you. The thought of his lips in new places, his tongue in new places, makes your eyelids flutter. 

“My Lady,” he says. His voice is intoxicatingly low. 

“My Lord,” you say back to him. 

When you smile at him, the smirk drops from his face and his head jerks back. Cold, blue eyes scan your features for falsities, as if you wear a mask he can remove to reveal a frown. He watches that frown fall into place only when your mother comes up behind you. 

“Oh, my sweet daughter,” she cries, whipping your body around so she can properly hug you goodbye. “Don’t let them change you,” she whispers in your ear. “You’re too lovely for them.”

“I’ll be fine,” you tell her. You’ll be more than fine. This is the most excited you’ve been in years. And you knew it would be. That’s what he brings out of you…already. 

—

He likes you. Well, he likes you in a way—he likes the look of you—but it’s hard to say if he likes the rest of you yet. He sneaks glances where he can, but he doesn’t often allow you to be in his presence for long. He removes you from his training sessions when you peek in to watch. He leaves once you join for dinner, which you’re less than a fan of, considering it leaves you to his brother and uncle’s company. He does not come find you to say goodnight. 

Don’t you have better things to do, he’s often snipped at you when he finds you close by. You’ve assumed he means in preparation for the wedding in a week, but you told your new servants and planners to do whatever they want. You don’t care what the damn wedding will look like. You don’t care what you’ll look like. You just want him. You want to be around him. Watch him fight. Watch his muscles tense and shift and strain in the war of death. You want to see his body shine with sweat and his eyes harden with a murderous glare. But he won’t let you.

The closest you’ve been able to get to what you want is by sitting in the stands of the arena, where you have to observe his skills from a decent distance. And while it is wildly exciting to see the man you’re going to marry covered in the blood of enemies, you wish you could be closer. You wish you were close enough so he could grin at you as men’s bodies fall off of his blade. You wish he wanted you close to him because it’s killing you to be so far away. 

After days, you still don’t understand the separation. You figured your smiles at him would be enough to get the message across that if he likes you in any sense of the word, then he should be going for you as much as you would him if he’d permit it, but no. He keeps his space between you. Unfortunately for him, you’re sick of it. 

—

“I’m tired of you avoiding me,” you call as you chase after him down the darkened hallway. You’d been waiting outside his training room for hours, hoping his keen senses couldn't pick up your unsteady breathing as you prepared yourself for this exact confrontation. 

His steps stutter at your words and he pauses. He turns on his heel, and with narrowed eyes, advances on you. His form towers over yours, and in any other situation, you might detest the abuse of power, but here, now, you feel a sharp thrill. You try not to let his lack of shirt affect what more you intend to say, but it’s hard. You’re already swallowing saliva. You’re core is already throbbing. 

“Do you have a moment?” you ask.

Feyd’s muscles tighten and bulge as his arms cross over his chest. He huffs. “I don’t understand you. You’re like a little rodent, you know,” he says. “Following me around as if I drop crumbs for you.”

A lump catches in your throat. He hasn’t spoken much to you since your arrival on Giedi Prime, and you know cruelty runs through the Harkonnen bloodline, but you didn’t know he could cut so deeply with words. “I’m not a rodent.”

“You’re as annoying as one.”

“Because I want to be around you?” you ask. “Because I like you–”

His arms fall away from his chest and your head flinches back from the finger pointed at your nose. “You do not like me,” he snaps.

His voice, though low, bounces off the walls of the hall, an echoey repeating of those words that you almost can’t believe you’re having to hear. You’ve not given any indication that what you’re telling him could possibly be a lie, so you don’t see how he could come to that conclusion. Unless there are whispers in his ear. 

“Yes, I do,” you say. “I’m marrying you. I want to marry you.”

“You are not supposed to want that,” he spits.

“Well, I do!” you spit back. 

“Then you don’t make sense!”

You don’t know what that means, so you just stand there, staring at one another as you wait for him to explain further. He doesn’t, and you tire of the waiting, so instead, you take a risk by stepping closer, and with cautious fingers, you raise your hand to his chest. Your palm plants firmly against his skin, and then you feel it. His heart beating rapidly. For a second you think it’s from the training. But then you look up at him, at how his jaw clenches and how he struggles to meet your eyes. And now you understand.

“I like what you are,” you tell him. “I like that you’re strong. I don’t care that you kill. I don’t care that you crave the feeling it gives you.”

“You should care,” he says, still avoiding your gaze. “You’re meant to be a precious little Lady. That’s what I was promised.”

“And that is what you wanted for a wife?” He doesn’t give you an answer. “I’m sorry if you’re disappointed–” he snorts, irritating you further. “I’m sorry if that ruins whatever fun you intended to have with me. I know the Baron has been eager to see what you’ll do to me once we’re married.”

His head swivels back to yours. “He found enjoyment from the idea that you’d be repulsed by me,” he says. “And so did I. So you shouldn’t feel so comfortable.” He latches his fingers to your wrist and jerks your hand away from his body. His hand leaves yours. It falls back to your side and you instantly feel a chill without him. It won’t do. You see a glimpse of your marriage—a loneliness, a cold side of your bed. He begins to turn away from you. 

“You don’t now?”

He stops. “What?”

“You said you did find enjoyment in it,” you repeat. “Do you still?”

You can see his teeth grinding with the shifting of his jaw as he contemplates continuing this conversation. “They said you wouldn’t like me,” he finally tells you. 

“But I do,” you say. “I read about you. I liked you before I met you.”

He groans. His hand runs down his face. He steps back to you, an iciness penetrating your stare. “I had plans for you. Ones you weren’t going to enjoy.”

A smirk curls your lips. “I had plans for you, too. Ones I fully intended to enjoy.”

He sucks in a breath, his chest puffing. His eyes narrow as if searching for your lies. 

Without another thought, you reach up again and, placing your palms on his cheeks, raise onto your toes to press your lips to his. It might be idiotic of you. It might be the stupidest move you could make. He might gut you for the act, marriage alliance be damned. But the only interest you have is in getting your point across. 

His lips are soft—probably one of the few soft spots on him—and they taste of salt from the sweat of his training. He’s frozen for a few agonizing beats, but then nails are digging into the skin of your hips, the fabric of your dress doing nothing to keep the sharp sting at bay. Lips move in tune with yours. You’re pushed backward. You hit the wall, trapped between hard surfaces of stone and body. 

You ache for the man you’ve felt you’ve known for longer than you have. You ache for the heat of him. You knew it would feel like this. 

When the kiss breaks, you smile. “You’ll like me,” you tell him. “I promise.”

He sighs in defeat and says, “I know.”

[the-thing-withfeathers]

know your worth

a/n: thank you to the anon that requested thisss!! this is my first time around writing some angst for billie so it was actually a cool learning experience hehe. there will 100% be a part two to this.

part 2

request

pairing: billie eilish x reader

warnings: annngggst, toxic relationship, billie neglecting you, cursing, arguments.

summary: billie’s been neglecting you recently to the point of standing you up sometimes and you finally decide to say something about it.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

you stood outside the restaurant you were supposed to meet billie outside of, in the rain, in the cold.

you had spent too long waiting for her to the point where you felt embarrassed when the waiters would check on you. you just decided to leave without grabbing anything to eat, making sure to leave an apologetic tip.

you finally called it when you opened up instagram after texting & calling relentlessly. you saw that she was partying with her friends on one of their stories. your look of disappointment was one that was hard to miss. tears started to form in your eyes when you realised your girlfriend either forgot about you or didn’t care at all. both were equally as painful.

you took an uber here as you & billie were going to drive back together in the car you two often shared when she wasn’t been escorted in limos. you had no time to wait for one so you whistled and called a taxi instead.

it took everything in you to hold back crying so that the poor taxi driver didn’t have to witness the mess you were.

while in the back of the taxi, you thought about how this all started in the first place.

billie had come home after a long year’s tour, you were waiting for her at the airport. it was pure bliss to feel her arms wrap around you again for the first time in a long time. you lifted her into the air and spun her around.

despite her being home from tour though, she still worked everyday. she spent time in the studio and it felt like days would never end. you did work too but you got home much earlier than she did. however, it was comforting knowing she would come straight home to you. you would greet her with home-cooked meals, already doing most of the housework. she was grateful at first, but then you noticed her mood started to change.

she started just going straight to bed, ignoring your meal that you had set up for the two of you. you would join her in bed but she’d shelter from any touch you tried to give her even if it was just a cuddle. you started suggesting date nights like movies but she always gave the excuse of being too tired. part of you felt horrible for feeling neglected as you know how hard she worked and if you were in her place, you’d be tired too.

you started to tell your friends about this. they made you see that you worked long days too despite coming home earlier, but you still made an effort. you had no idea why billie was suddenly acting this way.

even more pain came when you realised that she was free some nights, you just had no idea. she spent those nights partying with her friends, without you there. sometimes you’d even see her getting close to some other girl in a video your mutual friend took. you felt your heart break at the thought that maybe billie just outgrew you.

when you arrived home, you handed the cash to the driver, quickly making your way back to your apartment. you slammed the door behind you, leaning your back against it. you finally get the tears go, finding it harder to breathe.

you had gotten dolled up in hopes that she may finally choose you just for one night.

you ran into your shared bedroom, swinging open the closet door and grabbing a bag for yourself. you started packing some clothes just to last you a couple of nights, you rang one of your closest friends asking them if you could stay the night.

you heard them sigh at the other end of the phone, knowing they were holding back an “i told you so.” or maybe even an “about time.” you just weren’t in the mood to hear it. they understood that and just responded with an “of course you can stay.”

you felt humiliated that you allowed yourself to put up with it for as long as you did. you just loved billie too much to give up now. your relationship was hard work, you’d hate for it to become futile.

you just wanted the girl you fell in love with back. the girl that had an endless list of romantic gestures to surprise you with, the girl that used to write songs about you and perform them before she showed it to anyone else, the girl that loved you just as much as you loved her. you missed that side of billie, and you wondered if maybe that girl was too far gone.

you heard the door swing open, soft footsteps making their way across your apartment. you felt yourself freeze, fight or flight kicking in. for the first time in your life, you were scared of billie. not scared of what she might do but scared because it was practically like interacting with a stranger. you had no idea what she might say to the sight of you packing up to leave her.

would she be mad? would she let you go? would she try to fight? all those questions terrified you. the uncertainty scared the living daylights out of you.

you finished up packing your clothes just as she entered your bedroom.

“hey baby, what’s going on?” she asked, slurring her words a little bit. she was inebriated, of course she was. you didn’t answer her, making your way to the bathroom to grab your toiletries.

“baby.” she said, a bit more firm. you stuttered in your step when the nickname came out of her mouth but shook it away. she just looked confused at you when you chucked them into your bag.

“i’m done, bils.” you said, grinding your teeth as you zipped your bag shut. you walked to your bedside table to grab your chargers. “i’m done being treated like shit.”

“c’mon baby, i don’t treat you like shit.” she said, letting out a dry chuckle as a smile formed. “you’re being dramatic.”

“really?!” you said, angry. your tears started to form again, you tried to hold them back as you didn’t want to show weakness in front of her. “you fucking ditched me today, i was all alone in that restaurant waiting for you.”

her smile suddenly faded. she forgot. she didn’t care. you didn’t know.

“i’m so busy, baby. you can’t seriously expect me to be perfect and remember all our dates.” she tried to make up an excuse. you were hurt that she didn’t even apologise.

“busy enough to go to a party with your friends?” you snapped, aggressively shoving your charger into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “be so fucking for real right now, billie. you didn’t forget. you just don’t give a shit anymore.”

“oh fuck you!” she said, pointing at you. “if i didn’t give a shit about you, you wouldn’t even be here right now!” she yelled.

“wow. that shows me how fucking disposable income am then. i didn’t realise you saw me that way.” you said, walking past her and shoulder bumping her. “after everything i’ve done, how can you say that?!” you asked, turning around to look at her, standing in the living room.

you should have walked away, but given the fact that this is the most attention billie’s shown you, you wanted to stay and fight.

“you know what? you are disposable. i could have anyone! they’d be okay with me going out and partying.” she scoffed.

“yeah? well when you find someone that loves you just as much as i do despite you neglecting them, you let me know!”

“i will!” she said, walking closer to you. “i bet it won’t be hard.”

you laughed, anger seeping through your voice. “fuck you, billie. maybe you can go ask that girl you were grinding on at that party last week. tell me, did you sleep with her? is that why you’re being like this? did you cheat?”

“no, i didn’t. but maybe i should have, she was more fun than you’ll ever be. at least she wasn’t a damn shut in with no life.” she spat out.

you went quiet, did billie actually say that to you?

you were so hurt by her words, you thought you had been a good enough partner to her. maybe you weren’t enough for her, and the thought of that brought you to your breaking point.

“fuck…” you whimpered out, covering your mouth. “you’ve changed so much… you’re not the girl i fell in love with anymore…”

she scoffed at you, “well maybe i should’ve been this way all along. i feel good like this.”

“fine… be that way.” you said, turning around and twisting the door knob.

“you’re nothing without me! you love being useful to me” she called after you. “where are you gonna go?!” she asked.

“anywhere but here.” you slammed the door shut as you made your way out of your apartment, leaving the love of your life behind.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

billie woke up the next morning, groaning with a pounding headache that she couldn’t seem to best. she didn’t remember much about the party last night— nor did she remember the argument you had.

she only remembered when she opened up your shared closet to get dressed and found the majority of your clothes missing.

“oh… oh fuck.” she said, grabbing her phone and immediately trying to call you. it went straight to unavailable. she started to send a few texts.

‘baby, baby, i’m so so sorry.’

‘please answer my calls.’

‘please call me.’

‘i’m so sorry, please forgive me. i didn’t mean it.’

she went straight to social media, trying to find you but noticing that you had blocked her on most of your accounts. she found herself starting to cry, all the regret building up in her chest.

her tears fell onto her phone as she searched for any way to contact you. she sat down on the bed you used to share, it still smelled like you. her head was in her hands, she was trying to figure out where you could have gone in hopes of going there and talking to you. but because she hadn’t been around you, she wouldn’t know which of your close friends or relatives would house you.

she had stopped her crying, making it her mission to find you today. she had gotten dressed and her muscle memory took over, swinging the fridge door open in hopes of finding some leftovers of one of your famous home-cooked meals that you would have tucked away. her tears started to fall again when she realised there was nothing there waiting for her.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

it had been a week since you left your apartment. billie found it to be an incredibly insufferable week.

she had gotten home that week in a pissy mood, chucking her keys into the table beside the door and dumping her bag on the floor.

she had noticed that the apartment had changed, everything was suddenly clean. this past week, she hadn’t gotten the chance to clean anything up or do any chores. she heard running water from the kitchen and practically sprinted over there.

she found you placing the last dish onto the drying rack.

“baby.” she said, a relieved sigh leaving her lips. “i’m so glad you’re okay.”

“i’m just here to pick up the rest of my stuff.” you said, sighing a less relieved sigh, it was more of a disappointed one. you had hoped to be gone before she returned.

“you don’t have to go, please. we can work this out.” she begged you. you wouldn’t even turn to look at her.

“we can’t. not with the way you’ve handled this. there’s nothing to work out.” you finally turned around to look at her. your eyes looked tired and your face drooped in sadness, she still thought you were incredibly beautiful.

“but i’m sorry… i’m just so sorry.” she stepped towards you but you walked past her into the bedroom you used to call yours.

“sorry’s just not going to cut it, billie.” you said, picking up a box of your things. “i don’t think you understand how much you’ve hurt me. the things you said? they really pushed me over the edge. i thought that maybe i was the terrible person. but i was wrong, you were treating me horribly.”

“i can change, i promise.” billie cried out, trying to stop you from leaving.

“please move, bils.” you asked her, your eyes going soft. the nickname made her weak to her knees, she loved when you called her that. she stepped aside, sniffling softly.

“please… give me the chance to change.” she walked after you.

“i believe you can change, billie. i know you can. i just don’t think i can stick around for it.” you sighed, opening the door with your free hand. “maybe the next person that you find yourself with will reap the benefits of your change.” you said, walking out the door and closing it behind you.

she fell to her knees as the door closed. from that moment onwards, she vowed to change for the better. but she wanted the person that reaped the benefits to be you.

and you only.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

a/n: part 2 with billie redemption arc incomingg!

[planetaryupscaled]

PACTUS

Male Reader x Nayeon

Tags: 17k, smut, cheating

The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.

The clean swish and smack of Nayeon’s golf club broke the air as she tee’d off, her driver swinging high over her head as she sent the smart white ball flying down the fairway of the expensive club. It was a good strike and you watched as she made the yards to the green, setting a decent marker.

She is a good golfer and it was always fun to play with her because she gave a great challenge. Another benefit standing behind watching her tee off, seeing the skirt of her golf outfit fly up as she bounced and twisted, how her perky tits jiggled when she put herself into it. Nayeon watched it land then stepped aside to offer space for you to follow.

“Oppa, your turn,” she said, smiling at you.

“No problem,” you said, stepping up. You’d been working together for years now. and you were part business partner, part friend frankly. You weren’t perhaps the typical kind of person she was friends with and she knew other companions of hers looked down a little on you, but she enjoyed your company and you’re good at golf. You had rather an over-the-top frat boy kind of reputation, someone who somewhat hadn’t grown up in ways and yet you were well off and in business with her.

Your investment was invaluable so she had no reason to change things, and whenever you were together, you’d always a bit flirtatious with one another. It had always been that way despite you knowing full well she was taken and she figured it was a harmless joke, on top of that she figured that charming you would only be a benefit to her company as she kept you sweet.

That was what she told herself, but truth was she rather enjoyed the attention you paid her even if it did mean you was staring at her ass while she swung, but lots of men did that and plenty of women too so she wasn’t too concerned. Today though things felt a bit different, somehow more intense or at risk of going further, she didn’t know why but couldn’t help but play to it.

“Ok, watch this,” you said, lining yourself up and reaffirming your grip on the handle of the club.

“I’m gonna,” she smiled, teasing you a little as she was in the lead. Her skill matched her beauty and she was as keen a competitor for you as you were for her. With a strong smack you sent the ball down the fairway, seeing it drift as it was caught by a gust of wind.

“Aishh,” you said, watching it sailing towards the rough at the side, far from where you had intended.

“Ooh another bad drive there,” she said, knowing it had possibly bought her the game.

“That wind, just completely the wrong timing,” you said, sighing as you walked back to grab your bag and prepare for the next shot.

“Sure, the wind, not that lack of skill,” she teased with a wink as she stepped past you.

“We’re not all as perfect as you Nay,” you shot back, reached out to smack her ass on the way past as she giggled. You both seemed more playful that day like there was something in the air; started out with a drink before playing which you didn’t normally do and maybe that was part of it, Nayeon feeling energetic and loose as you both headed out on the beautiful day to play some golf. The course was quiet, and you had plenty of time to enjoy yourselves, alternating between banter and strikes as you worked your way around.

“Maybe you should focus more on the game” she murmured, glancing back temptingly.

“It’s hard when the view right here is so good,” you replied.

“Learn to multitask,” she countered as you followed her down the fairway. You walked deliberately behind her to watch the short, caramel pleated skirt she had on sway side-to-side around her toned thighs, showing off her shapely legs and giving just a glimpse of her panties when it flicked up. Normally she’d wear shorts underneath for modesty reasons but she’d felt more fun and wanted to play around today so had a pair of bright pink cotton panties on instead which gave you a colorful glimpse any time she moved right.

“You’re gonna need a good shot to get back on it here,” she marveled, seeing your ball well off course now.

“Just take your shot, show me what you got,” you said, indicating her ball.

“So you can stand back and look at my ass?” she asked.

“Sure, if I’m gonna lose I may as well get something out of it,” you smiled.

“Well fine, watch my ass as I beat you,” she said with a playful roll of her eyes, selecting a club and stepping up to her ball. She took a moment to set herself up then swung an excellent shot to get it straight onto the green, bouncing firmly without too much momentum to roll in close to the pin.

“Very nice,” you commented.

“My ass, or my shot?” she joked, glancing back.

“Both, as you well know,” you replied.

“Always good to hear it,” she said, turning and stepping out the way. You went to your ball and eyed it up, knowing your shot wouldn’t be so easy as it had rolled into a bit of a dip down from the edge of the fairway, just making it that bit trickier as it rested in the rough. You took the club and set your feet, eyeing it up, imagining the perfect way to make it work. You took a breath and steadied your grip before striking it cleanly, a good hit but you’d already left yourself work to do from the first shot.

“Not bad, Oppa,” Nayeon called, seeing you get it onto the edge of the green. It would leave a long putt but was a decent recovery.

“Could have been worse.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway, I’m done here,” she smirked, stepping up with her putter. You just watched her take a strong stance, loving her legs as she firmly positioned herself, pushed her ass out and then putted neatly, sending her ball rolling tidily across the cropped grass to dip perfectly into the hole.

“Told you,” she said, grinning as she walked over to pick up her ball. You gave her a congratulatory clap as she bent over to fish it out, making sure not to crouch and instead bending at the waist to let her skirt retreat over her peachy ass and show it off in her cute pink panties for you. Nobody else was around and she wanted to have some fun, and besides it could only put you off your game.

“Yeah yeah, I know,” you said, rolling your eyes, stepping in with your own putter. Nayeon just watched on as you made your long putt, missing the hole though not by much. You let out a disappointed sigh as it came to a halt near the hole before walking over and tapping it in, nudging the pin as it dropped in, leaving you one over par.

“Damn, could be worse,” you mused, picking it up and carrying it to your clubs.

“Could be better, too,” she smiled.

“I know, I know.”

“Still behind me,” she teased, tipping her bag onto its wheels and starting for the final hole on the game.

“There’s worse places to be,” you replied, watching her go as you put the putter away, sure she was swaying her hips a bit more than usual.

“You’re about to get beaten by a girl, yet again,” she teased as you caught up to her.

“No way, I’m gonna turn this around.”

“Not a chance, Oppa,” she smiled, “it’s not your day.”

“We’ll see,” you replied.

“Yeah, we’ll see me winning is what,” she says as she stopped at the tee for the final hole.

“No way, I’ve got some magic here for the last hole, gonna be a cinematic victory,” you said determinedly.

“You haven’t been able to find the hole,” she laughed, knowing the two shot lead she held would be plenty to win it on the final par three.

“I’ve got this,” you boasted, your confidence irritating her.

“Well you know what, why don’t you put your money where your mouth is,” she said, a slight snap to her voice.

“How so?”

“A bet, if you can pull back and win this game,” she said.

“What do you want? What do I have that the lovely Nayeon could possibly want?” you asked.

“Your car,” she said after thinking for a moment.

“My car?”

“Your car, that black Porsche you love so much, I want it,” she said. She knew you loved that car and had spent a lot of time on it, so taking it off you would be a kick in the teeth and really take you down a peg.

“And if I win?” you asked after a measured pause to consider it, “you’re gonna streak around this course naked.”

“Naked?” she said, heart surging as she was caught a bit by surprise.

“In your birthday suit,” you said with a smirk. You’d intended it as a joke and a bit of banter more than anything and was stunned when she answered.

“Deal,” she said, holding out her hand to shake on the deal. She was so sure she’d win the bet even if you did a good job on the final hole that it wouldn’t matter and she’d never have to pay her end. She was gonna walk away from this with your Porsche.

“Then let’s go,” you said, offering her the tee.

“Thanks,” she said, finding her driver and stepping up.

“Tell me, Oppa, how many girls you fucked on the back seat of that Porsche?”

“A few, why? You wanna be one of us?” you replied.

“Maybe, but I’ll do that when it’s my car. I’ll get it all cleaned first,” she said, blowing you a somewhat venomous kiss as she lined up her drive.

“We’ll see,” you said, watching her take position. You were quiet as she took her shot, putting her off never an option as you both wanted a clean fight despite the ribbing. She swung strongly, smacking her ball down the fairway nicely on target though it pulled a little to the left and ended up near the green but with a slightly longer shot than she was hoping for. With her skill however she had little concern of making par.

“Good start,” you said, watching her walking back to you.

“Good enough. Kiss your Porsche goodbye,” she smiled.

“It ain’t over till it’s over,” you replied, swapping with her to take the tee. Nayeon stood back and watched you set up, taking a few more seconds than normal as you scouted out the pin in the bright sunshine, watching the trees swaying with the breeze. You stood up, straightened your back and took position, hands settling on the club before you pulled back for the strike. Your club swung high over your head and then swept back down in a perfect arc to hit the ball cleanly and send it arcing into the air.

The tee snapped cleanly and flew down the grass a few feet as Nayeon watched it soar into the air, knowing immediately it was a good drive and so did you, staring in joy at the quality strike. You both followed it intently, watching it land onto the green with a bounce, then another, rolling perfectly on track for the pin.

“No, no!” Nayeon almost shouted as her heart rate raced, seeing what was about to happen.

“Yeaah, come on, come on!” You shouted with ascending volume, willing the ball to make it. Both of you stared for a final second as it trailed to a near stop—then dropped into the hole.

“Oh come on!” Nayeon shouted in anguish as you leapt into the air, whooping in joy and knowing you’d made a huge step forward.

“How’s that for a cinematic finish?” you said, grinning broadly. You grabbed the bag and pushed the driver back in, hoisting it onto your shoulder so you could get to the green and admire your incredible shot in person.

“You haven’t won anything yet,” she countered miserably, feeling the pressure immediately and knowing she had to stay cool. She had to finish on par to end the game on a tie, meaning neither of you got the prize.

“Heat’s on, Nay” you smiled, heading down the course ahead of her as she wheeled her bag behind you. You took a moment to lift the ball from the cup and hold it up for her.

“Hole in one! You never expected that did you?” you shouted, relishing your incredible drive and fortune.

“No, but it won’t matter,” she replied, heading for her ball off to the side of the green. You walked off and tucked your ball away separately, wanting to keep it to remember your victorious moment.

“Time to shine, Nayeon,” you said, standing back to watch her lining up her next shot. She’d been under pressure before and knew she was fine, breathing calmly and taking her time to get ready. With a neat swish of the club the ball flew up over the crest of the green and rolled towards the pin, stopping around six feet away for what should be an easy putt to draw the round.

“I’ve got it,” she nodded to you, steely and cool.

“All rides on this, you gotta finish this right here,” you said, still smiling as she swapped over to her putted.

“No problem, I can do this in my sleep,” she replied, shutting you from her mind as she stepped up onto the green and focused. You didn’t disturb her, watching her legs and taking another glimpse of her panties again as the skirt fluttered in the wind, seeing how focused she was on her shot. It was the shot to tie it up and she breathed calmly and took a neat, short putt of the ball. It rolled directly towards the pin, on target, moving swiftly...a little too swiftly, as at the last moment it hooked round the rim of the hole and trickled away again.

There was silence except for the wind for a second, Nayeon’s heart pounding as she realized what it meant. She’d missed...and lost the game, and the bet along with it.

“I thought you could do that in your sleep?” you smiled. She said nothing, just staring at the ball.

“And I must be dreaming, because you’re gonna be getting naked in a minute,” you grinned.

“Shut up,” she said, hiding a blush as she stepped to the ball, “let me finish.”

You just watched as she resumed her game and lined up the easy, very short putt. It hardly mattered now, if she made it, she’d be one shot down, if she didn’t and took another, she’d be two. Either way she’d lost and that meant your Porsche would stay yours...and you’d get to see her run about naked. Nayeon easily made the short putt, the ball tricking the foot or so it needed to drop into the cup. She swiftly picked it up and headed back to her bag as you clapped for her.

“Good game, good game,” you said.

“That was close, you lucky bastard,” she replied, smiling at you. It was good fun there was no doubt.

“And you get to keep your car.”

“And I also get to see you naked,” you added immediately.

“Oh come on, we were just messing around, just a joke right,” she said, trying to play it off and diffuse you immediately before it got going.

“Not a chance, you’d have wanted the Porsche wouldn’t you?” you said.

“Yeah I want it, but I wouldn’t have actually expected it,” she said hurriedly. It wasn’t true, she knew she’d have demanded the car.

“Bullshit, a deal’s a deal,” you said.

“Come on, no way. This place is too open, what if someone sees me?” she replied.

“That’s the idea, and you took the bet.”

“How about I flash you? Come on,” she said, trying to buy you with a quick glance at her tits.

“No chance. We had a bet, and you lost,” you said, looking at her sternly.

“I know,” she replied.

“So take your clothes off,” you ordered. She dropped her putted back into her bag, turning around to look at you.

“Seriously?” she asked, hoping for a last chance to back out of the bet she’d just stupidly made.

“Yeah, seriously. Hold up your end of the bargain,” you smiled. Nayeon gave a sigh and had a quick scout round, looking for anyone else.

“Longer you wait the more chance someone else is gonna come up here,” you teased.

“Ok ok!” she snapped, irritated at losing the bet but knowing it was only her hubris to blame. She took another glance around as she grabbed her top and pulled it up over her head quickly, throwing the caramel cotton aside to expose her black sports bra that supported her perky tits nicely...but didn’t stop her nipples poking through.

“You’re the first guy to see me do this in quite a while,” she commented.

“I’m honoured,” you replied, just taking in her stunning figure and tight body, muscles toned as she quickly reached down to undo her shoes. She pulled them off with her socks and then stood back up to grab her skirt, casting another look around and undoing the zip before she let it drop round her feet to reveal the pink panties she’d been teasing you with.

“Very nice,” you smiled as she kicked the skirt aside, standing in just her underwear as you took in her slender figure, loving her round, firm ass and the sweet bulge of her pussy. Nayeon hoped it’d be enough and you’d let her get away with just seeing her in her bra and panties, feeling the fresh breeze blow around her exposed body.

“Keep going,” you said.

“Come on, this is more than you’ve ever seen,” she argued.

“That’s not the bet.”

“Screw the bet, nobody else gets to see me this way,” she said.

“The bet was naked,” you replied.

“Come on this is plenty, aren’t you pleased?” she said, jiggling herself a little as she giggled, arching her back to push her chest out.

“And you get a good look at my ass this way,” she said, turning to shake her hips at you, letting you see her lovely ass.

“Not just those little peeks up my skirt that you take,” she teased, chiding you playfully.

“I’ll get an even better look if you take those panties off,” you smiled, pointing at the hot pink cotton.

“I think it’s better when something’s covered up, more mysterious,” she teased, flicking the elastic of her panties.

“You’d best take them off so I can compare,” you offered.

“I can do something else for you, how about it?” she tried.

“I don’t want anything more than this right now,” you smiled.

“You kept your car, how about I get you something for it?”

“Unless you’re joining me on the back seat that’s not gonna top this,” you grinned.

“Pictures?”

“Nah,”

“Come on,” she tried again, “you don’t need to see me naked.”

“No, but I want to,” you smiled.

“We’re friends though,” she tried.

“And you lost a bet. You shook hands with me on the agreement that you’d streak naked around this golf course if I won the round,” you pointed out.

“And you bet me your car, bet you wouldn’t have given me it,” she protested.

“How long have we been friends? You know I’m a man of my word, I’d have given you the Porsche,” you said.

“This isn’t fair though!” she complained.

“How isn’t it? We had a deal, a straight bet, and you lost. You just got cocky,” you replied.

“And you got lucky!”

“Maybe so, but the result is the same, so pay up,” you ordered her.

“Not gonna let me out of this one, are you?” she said with a resigned smile and a sigh.

“Not a chance, so strip naked,” you said. Nayeon breathed deeply and steeled herself, knowing she was blushing as she felt the heat of her face as she reached for her sports bra.

“Quickly you’ve already wasted enough time,” you teased.

“Don’t you ever tell anyone about this,” she warned, looking at you sternly then peeling her sports bra over her head to let her perky tits bounce free.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, eyes locked onto her gorgeous tits with their firm nipples as she stripped off and threw her bra aside with her other clothes.

“And your fans think you’re so innocent,” you teased as she pushed her hands into her panties.

“Shut up, just...enjoy,” she said quietly, unable to think of anything else as she pushed her panties down and let them drop to her feet. You watched as the thin cotton was moved and she straightened up nervously, glancing around as you took in her stunning body complete with her totally smooth, shaven pussy.

“Oh, very nice,” you said, as she blushed heavily.

“You keep your pussy shaved, that’s hot,” you said, your cock stiffening fully in your shorts as the stunning idol stripped naked in front of you

“Shut up, it’s just how I like it,” she said.

“Shave or laser?” you asked, seeing how smooth she was.

“Shave,” she replied.

“You do a good job then, damn that’s smooth,” you said as your gaze fixed on her pussy.

“Thanks,” she muttered at the sort-of compliment.

“Now get running,” you said, indicating the wide open space that was still thankfully deserted.

“What?” she blurted out, mind not keeping up, still too embarrassed.

“Come on, streak, as you bet you would,” you ordered.

“Come on, go!” you said, smacking her ass hard and spurring her into action, Nayeon running away from the green on her bare feet. Her toes pressed into the neatly cut grass, feeling the cool vegetation between her toes and under her heels as she ran down the fairway and into the rough. Her heart was pounding in her ears as she looked around for anyone else, hearing your whistles of encouragement as she ran naked around the golf course.

You watched her round ass jiggling as she ran, working with every step of her strong legs that powered her rapidly down the fairway towards the tee, hoping nobody else saw her do it. She breathed hard as she got near then turned around, heading back to you, her tits bouncing hard as she ran, her slender body on full display. She knew you were taking everything in and absorbing it all, knowing you’d jerk off at the thought of it later on as she glanced around.

She realized that she was having fun though, performing for you and taking a chance, showing herself off for you and anyone else that might catch a glimpse of her. The exhibitionism was exhilarating, freeing almost as she shed her clothes and showed off for the world and despite the fear she loved it, feeling the characteristic tingle as her pussy wettened and excitement ran through her. Turned on, she slowed a little to make it last longer, for herself as much as for you, smiling at you as she dropped to a walk on the last few feet towards you that gave you ample opportunity to take in every detail of her naked, shaved body.

“You seem to like this,” you commented, watching her walking up to you. She was dripping wet and feeling horny, just ready to go as she approached you, not caring at that moment if anyone was watching or not. It wasn’t like she had anything to be ashamed of apart from doing it in public as her body was tight and toned, in great shape and plenty of people would just be happy she was there.

“Well, it’s a good bit of fun,” she mused, smiling at you as she approached, your eyes roaming over her nude body to drink her in. It didn’t really matter now and she was proud of how she looked, getting over the embarrassment of doing it in public. A quick scan around showed nobody else and she was thankful somehow landed in this quiet time at the golf club. She realized however that you had grabbed her clothes and was holding them hostage, out of her reach neatly stacked behind you with little intention of giving them back.

“Come on, give me my clothes, I’ve gotta get dressed,” she said, pointing to them.

“No, they’re mine now,” you smiled.

“Give them to me, that’s not fair,” she complained.

“Nobody said this was fair,” you smirked.

“Please, Oppa, give me my clothes,” she said, casting another gaze around.

“I don’t want you to get dressed, I like the view how it is,” you teased.

“I bet, but I can’t stay like this, what if someone sees?” she said.

“There’s nobody around, just enjoy it,” you replied.

“Please, don’t make me beg,” she said, looking into your eyes.

“I’d quite like you to beg,” you smiled.

“What, down on my knees?” she replied.

“Absolutely, that’d do nicely,” you grinned.

“Fine,” she said, flicking her hair back and steadying herself, making as if to get down and physically beg. She lowered herself, then abruptly lunged forward, shoving with all the power of her legs to try and lurch past you and grab her clothes...or at least some of them.

“Hey!” you shouted, reaching down to grab her as she tried to slide past you, your hands grabbing round her body, one squeezing her firm breast as the other pulled into her slender waist to restrain her.

“No!” she cried playfully as she was denied her outfit, you hauling her back away from it with strength that easily overwhelmed her own. It didn’t stop her though and she kicked forward, pulling against you as you restrained her, making you lurch on your feet and stumble, dropping her in the process. Nayeon managed another quick grab for her clothes, almost getting them before she was pulled away and up by you once more, her prize slipping out of her reach as she was manhandled.

She tumbled into you and wrenched to get away but was held tightly, your arms around her as she tried to break free, then shoved off her feet again to use her powerful legs. Nayeon giggling loudly as you two fell in a scramble of limbs onto the neatly kept grounds. Nayeon fell on top of you, sitting up but you grabbed her wrists before she could escape, basically riding you as she knelt on top of you.

“Oppa, stop,” she playfully chided, “I have to get dressed.”

“No deal,” you smiled, all of these flirtatious frustrations coming to a head as you wrestled. You pushed her back and Nayeon sat on your cock, feeling your rock hard dick pressing up through your shorts and straight into her slick, engorged pussy. She gasped as its shape easily split her puffy, shaven lips and her clit brushed over it, making her body surge in delight for a millisecond before she lifted up again, not letting you to see it.

“Well I’ll have to break free!” she whispered huskily, yanking her hands off yours and reaching forward but your arms locked round her back, exactly as she’d expected, to keep her in place on top of you. Your hand grabbed her tit and took a shameless grope of them as your arm stayed round her back to hold her down, easily over powering her as she struggled to break free. You squeezed hard enough to make her grunt, then pulled your fingers back off her hard nipple, making her tingle.

It only helped to accentuate the wetness of her pussy, hand trailing down to push into her hips and draw her back down, switching hands to grab a good feel of her ass next and sample the result of her all her workouts. Your hand pulled her ass open, revealing her puffy pussy, just wet and ready though she didn’t want to admit it, renewing her struggles as she got a foot under herself and pushed up again to change it up.

“No you don’t,” you smiled as she almost pushed away, hauled back down by a strong grip on her hips, being greeted by several hard, stinging spanks to her ass that made her cry out in pain as they spread through her. Your fingers shoved between her thighs as she struggled to break away, Nayeon’s hands pushing at your wrists to try and break the grip before her movements shoved your fingertips over the back of her slick lips, coating you in her hot, slick juices and making her quiver.

“Fuck, you love this,” you smiled, cock hardening even more if that were possible.

“Shut up, no,” she hissed, looking up to hide her blush as you hauled her down on top of your cock again and your hand reached up to grab her tits again, squeezing tight at one then the other as you took advantage of your position. She might be on top but had no way to get away, grunting and groaning as you gripped at her, more spanks landing on her ass.

She took advantage of an opening however when you let your guard down, too busy feeling her up when she suddenly jolted away, breaking your grip in that moment and lurching forward towards her clothes. Unfortunately, she broke free but lost her footing, toes slipping on the grass and making her stumble, leaving her vulnerable which let you grab her ankle and hold her back.

Nayeon whined in disappointment as she was pulled back, you surging up and yanking her down as she kicked and fought you playfully, rolling around on the grass as you struggled to control her. You hauled her down on her side, your arm over her shoulders as your leg hooked over hers, leaving your hand free, which soon connected with her as you smacked her tits. She gasped hard as you did, not having had her tits slapped in years, the sharp sensation shocking her into stillness and almost surrender for a second.

Her perky tits bounced and shook as you rolled her onto her back more and slapped her chest, Nayeon giving hard, rasping breaths as her breasts shook, your hands raining blows onto them to make her sting. She was sure there would be red marks and tried to get away again, finding her strength and kicking out, digging her toes into the grass and shoving forward to break your hold on her. She wriggled out of your grasp somewhat but you had hold of her intently, restricting the struggling idol easily with significantly more strength than her.

She succeeded in getting your grasp somewhat off her but you went with her and pulled her back, Nayeon fumbling onto her front now with you behind her. Your hand smacked her ass again and grabbed it for a hard grope, making her grunt then shudder as your fingers played along her slick, waiting entrance again to give away how hot she was. She loved being dominated and taken, she always had, so now it was just tingling her entire body with excitement.

You pinned her down and rolled on top of her, Nayeon totally helpless as you held her wrist down and stopped her legs with your feet. She pushed up and tried to escape, her strong thighs pushing her ass up, but all that did was give you more access to her. You couldn’t wait any longer, not wanting to miss out on your chance with her, so you reached down to yank your shorts out of the way and free your hard cock.

You aimed your cock towards her opening, though unintended, prone bone position you thrust yourself forward and buried your cock inside her easily in a single stroke for your second hole in one of the day. Nayeon’s pussy split easily around your swollen head and her body welcomed you inside her as you effortlessly drove your cock deep and pinned her down to the grass as you’d always wanted. Like so many men you’d wanted to fuck her for years and finally had the chance, groaning in pleasure as her silky smooth vagina swallowed your cock.

Nayeon’s eyes popped open wide and she moaned loudly as you slid inside her, her soaked pussy just waiting for your penetration, body shuddering as her nerves lit up and made her tremble. You forced your hips down to get your cock as deep as possible inside her, Nayeon responded by pushing her ass up for you, assisting in getting it as far inside as she could while you both grunted with heavy breaths.

“Oh fuck, Oppa...” she managed, overwhelmed as you started fucking her, slowly at first, hands moving down to pin hers to the grass. She interlocked her fingers with yours as you built up speed, thrusting busily onto her hot love tunnel, loving how intensely her cunt hugged your cock, how hot she was around you, her slick velvet walls an absolute pleasure. Nayeon groaned heavily in pleasure, so turned on and hot as you penetrated her, the first new man to do so in years and your cock felt heavenly.

All of your sexual tension was released as you fucked, and that was what it was; not making love or some sweet affair, you both were fucking, pinned down on the grass in the open at a semi public place no less but those thoughts didn’t cross your mind as you started to work your hips harder, cock deep inside her, shoving right into her as her body easily took it and let you get full depth inside her as she moaned.

“Fuck, don’t hold back,” she gasped, wanting all of you in a fast, aggressive fuck that she was sure would satisfy you both. Her rasping grunts became louder and more intense, letting out her sensations vocally as you fucked her, pushing her ass up as you slammed your hips into her, squashing perfectly into her firm, round booty to bury everything you had inside the groaning idol. She squeezed and jolted as you penetrated her, only encouraging you to stay deeper as your cock brushed her G-spot.

She cried in pleasure to the open air as you pounded down into her, pace picking up faster, strokes short and intense as you took your chance and just let out your long restrained lust for her. Your cock pulsed rock hard inside her, the hardest cock Nayeon had felt in a long time as you pumped down against her most sensitive area, her slick, sweet pussy letting you slide in deep again and again as your hips reciprocated above her. Her knees dug into the grass to hold her ass up for you, legs wide as her arms stretched out in front of her.

Pinned down under your fucking and with no intention of stopping it, Nayeon cried out her pleasure, getting rather loud much to your surprise. She was a screamer, something you somehow never expected of her but you loved it, loved how much she was enjoying your fuck and it spurred you to go faster and harder. You had to hold yourself back but pumped her hard, wanting to make her come all over your cock. Your hand pulled from hers and you grabbed her long hair, twisting it in your fingers before yanking it hard to make her scream.

“Fuck! Oh fuck me!” she screamed, even making you look around to check that you didn’t have an audience as your hips slammed into her. Her face was screwed up in sheer pleasure as she cried and screamed out her ecstasy to the world, pain of her hair being pulled mixing with the ecstatic sensations spreading from her G-spot, your cock so perfect inside her as it stroked every nerve ending and built her up. You tugged at her a few more times then abruptly shoved her head down, Nayeon gasping as she was cumming.

“Fucking slut,” you murmured, making her tingle as she loved you calling her that, knowing she was being exactly that as she being fucked by you. Your hands hooked under her hips and you pulled her back, up into a doggy style position somewhat though she was still laid on the grass, arms out in submission until you finished with her. You leaned back and smacked her ass, making her cry out loudly again, followed by another and another as you spanked her thoroughly.

You loved watching her take it, Nayeon gasping and crying out as you smacked her ass through grunts of pleasure, continuing to fuck her hard. You had her hip held tightly and pulled her back, giving her no way break away not that she was trying anyway. You gave a squeeze of her booty then your fingers played between her cheeks, making her shiver as a naughty tingle spread through her body. Her breath caught a moment as she felt a fingertip pressed at her asshole, knocking on her back door seemingly as you teased her for a moment.

She gasped loudly as it suddenly entered her, sliding deeply into her to surprise her, another sensation to mix in with the hard fucking you were giving her and the pain that still tingled her body. You probed her deeply and stretched her ass a little, making her moan at the illicit sensation while your cock still buried inside her, feeling her pussy clench tighter around you, gripping your shaft hard and helping your surge and pulse more intently.

You held your finger up her ass for a moment as you fucked her, jamming your cock inside her over and over again to make her scream again. She was just completely lost the pleasure of it all, her orgasm cranking up before she gasped as you pulled your finger out, the speed jolting her before you grabbed her hips tightly and pushed up over her. You knew what she needed and slammed down hard, pushing your cock deep and keeping it there as your hips let loose a flurry of thrusts.

“Oh fuck, fuck, I’m...” she whined, your bulging head slamming into her G-spot repeatedly with a rush of intense strokes that were the final steps to heaven for the idol. She screamed with every one until she rolled her eyes in a silent expression of ecstasy and came hard, eyes clenching shut as she shuddered intensely and inhaled deeply. Her next breath was a long, loud scream of pleasure as she shook hard, legs trying to kick out, fingernails twisting into the grass as you rode her ass all the way through.

“Yeah that’s it, come on,” you groaned, smiling down at her climax, loving making her orgasm as you pounded on her hard. Her grass stained knees dug into the green as she shoved against you, her pussy squeezing intently, so tight around you as you continued to drill into her hottest depths. It was more than enough to trigger you, the sensations of her body and the sheer mental stimulation of it all overwhelming as you held out.

You fucked her hard as her orgasm faded out, ignoring her feeble pulls to get away from the intensity and hands that tried to stop you, riding her hard for several more seconds to pound your aching cock deep inside the idol you’d wanted for so long. A final burst of energy from you saw her chokingly grunt at the intensity as you suddenly pulled out, making her inhale sharply as her pussy was empty and gaping wide, completely at your mercy though as you hopped off her and shoved her over in the process, tumbling over onto her back.

Before she even knew what was happening your hand grabbed her hair and yanked her head down hard, holding her in place as you aggressively stroked your cock, managing a few slippery jerks before you aimed it at her face and exploded with a long, guttural groan of ecstasy. Nayeon managed to shut her eyes just in time for the hot load to strike her face, gasping hard as the hot come landed across her pretty face.

It was abundant and intense, your orgasm strong and sending your cum bursting out in hard, fast jets that you aimed straight across her, the first across her cheek, nose and forehead before a second hit her eyelid and trailed into the front of her hair. She gasped in surprise and shock as you emptied your balls on her with many more shots hitting her cheeks, lips and chin before you leaned forward and shoved your bulbous tip into her mouth for her to suck the last of it from you.

She did as you wanted, sucking firmly and tasting your salty cum as it spread across her tongue, feeling the last twitches before your hand softened in her long hair and you gave a final strain before dropping aside, sitting down on the green beside her as you let her go.

“Fuck...” you groaned, resting back on your hands as you breathed deep, your heart racing from the exertion.

“Yeah...” she agreed breathlessly, feeling her chest thumping, splayed out naked in the warm sunshine on the golf course, completely exposed with a thick load of come drying on her face. you could do nothing but recover for a minute, both of you breathing deeply, hard breathing combining with the breeze and pulse in your ears before she felt very self conscious, pushing up on her elbows and opening her one free eye.

“I’ve got some tissues in my bag there, grab them,” she ordered, pointing back towards it as you looked over. You quickly moved, knowing you needed to get decent, pulling your shorts back over your still semi-hard cock as you fumbled with her bag and patted down the pockets. Luckily they were easy to find and you pulled them out, quickly putting them in Nayeon’s outstretched hand where she got to work. She yanked one out and pressed it to her face, absorbing your load and wiping it carefully from her eye.

“Get my clothes,” she ordered, glancing round in case someone had seen. There was nobody but she could swear she heard voices on the breeze. Maybe it was just paranoia seizing her in the wake of her orgasm but she wasn’t taking any chances, hurriedly grabbing another tissue and wiping her face, trying to methodically cover her skin from her forehead down to her chin as she rolled her lips to swallow any remaining load on her lips. The salty taste was of little concern as she threw the tissue aside, satisfied she was clean enough, grabbing her top.

You stood carefully keeping look out and leaving her to get it done, knowing you better not interfere at that moment as she shook the top out and hauled it over her head, foregoing her bra and simply covering herself up. She pulled it down then grabbed her skirt, flicking it over her bare feet and yanking it over her grass stained knees, cringing a little as she knew how that would look to anyone that saw her. She stood up fast, giving the course a last flash before she pulled it over her smooth, pristine pussy to gather it round her hips and fumble for the zipper.

She yanked it up breathed a sigh of relief that she was decent, flicking her panties out and reaching down to step into them. Nayeon was glad you hadn’t given her a cream pie for a multitude of reasons but right now primarily so it didn’t leak thickly into her pink panties, pulling them up determinedly to conceal herself. She grabbed the bra along with the tissues and stepped quickly to her bag, reaching down to snatch the socks from her trainers, bundling them all together and shoving them into a pocket of her bag.

“Did you hear someone?” you said, voices on the breeze again.

“Maybe,” she mumbled, knowing it wasn’t such a big deal now but the thing to do was focus on getting dressed so you both could make a hasty exit. She wasn’t sure sticking around was the best idea even if you had gotten away with it so she sat down hard on the grass, grabbing her shoes and shoving her feet into them. She managed to deftly tie them, not getting into a tangle as she rapidly secured them then stood up, zipping her back shut and checking nothing was left on the grass, or her face as she swiftly checked for anything she missed.

“Fuck that was close,” you said quietly as you saw someone just about come into view, the voices having been real. They’d just about got away with it as Nayeon tipped her bag onto the wheels, ready to leave.

“Yeah, let’s get outta here,” she said, nodding back towards the clubhouse.

“Got it,” you said, hefting your bag and walking with her, next to her this time as you both headed to the exit as if nothing had happened, the players behind were unconcerned, except for some strange noises and screams you thought you heard on the bright Seoul day.

Nayeon trailed you back into the clubhouse, dropping behind you as sanity returned and she felt very self-conscious about what you’d just done. She knew she shouldn’t have done it, should have made that stupid bet and even so much as entertained it given, she knew how you felt about her. Sure you were friends but she should have realized you’d have gone for anything like that.

“Nayeon, you alright?” you asked, stopping in the car park and putting your bag down.

“Yeah, I’m good,” she said, even as her mind raced.

“Look, that was...” you started but she quieted you immediately.

“Nothing, that was nothing and never happened,” she said firmly.

“Nothing? You didn’t like it?” you asked, a little surprised.

“Be smart, you know full well I did,” she admitted, her huge orgasm giving that away as clear as day.

“But I’m taken, and this never happened, got it?” she said.

“Got it,” you smiled, giving her a wink.

“Good game though, great finish, you really took me, I mean it on that last hole,” she said, cursing her stutter over the words.

“Yeah a great game, really tight at the end there,” you smiled.

“Another one soon?” she offered. She genuinely meant golf, though she was sure you might infer something more.

“Absolutely, we’ll make arrangements,” you said, giving her a brief hug.

“I gotta get going now, business to attend to,” she said.

“Got you, until next time,” you said, picking up your bag and heading for your car, the black Porsche sitting there in the parking lot like a taunt to what she’d been blinded by...and lost.

“See ya,” she murmured, turning to pull her bag to her SUV. She hauled it into the trunk and slammed it down, getting into the drivers seat and sagging back against the leather, hearing the rumble as your drove past.

She was embarrassed, she internally hated herself somewhat for what had transpired but fuck...she’d loved it, and she couldn’t wait till the next game.

One month later—the next game.

Nayeon walked along to the next tee, scuffing her toes in the grass on the beautiful day, the sun beating down on her. And you were following along behind her, hauling your bag while checking her ass out. You both never spoken explicitly of your little adventure on the golf course a few weeks before where you’d fucked her hard on the final green in full view of anyone that might have been watching, but things had changed.

The flirting and playfulness had become very direct and overt since things had boiled over and her misguided bet had landed her in hot water. Both acted on attraction to one another, well...she’d finally given in and slipped up, letting herself get carried away and it had gotten way out of hand, but she’d absolutely loved it. As a result you both were freed from those chains, that barrier no longer existed between you and your private interactions had become so much more intent and explicit.

Flirting was out of control, when you were alone of course. She was absolutely never behaving that way if anyone else was around to see it and she knew she shouldn’t be doing it but that only made it hotter. Getting fucked by you in such a primal, passionate fashion had unleashed her and she was being so playful and dirty with you. On one hand she would die of shame if it came out, her relationship would be shattered. but on the other she was lustfully falling for you and couldn’t resist the thrill.

You both arrived at the next hole and set your bags up, Nayeon sliding her driver out and giving a stretch as you placed the ball down and paused to look at your phone.

“Come on, some of us are waiting to play,” she scolded playfully.

“Patient, we’ve got nothing but time,” you replied, and it was true since it was a quiet day on the course and nobody was immediately behind.

“What’s so important that you have to interrupt our game huh? Am I not enough for you?” she teased, walking over to you. As she peered over your shoulder to the screen, she saw a notification for a voice message come up from a woman who you had saved with a gratuitous picture of her stretched holes, her own hands clearly spreading her legs for it. It made Nayeon pause, shocked by the depravity of it, thinking it rather misogynistic that you displayed her in such a fashion as a fuck toy...but equally she found it hot, the kinky factor of giving her a thrill.

“Aish, you fucking perv,” she snorted, turning back to the game and stepping away.

“What’s your problem? This is how I save all my fuck buddies and they love it,” you said with a grin. Nayeon just rolled her eyes.

“I should save you like this too, technically you deserve the same treatment, the roll of honor,” you added.

“Fuck you, no way I’d do that,” she retorted. Stepping back but not entirely, she listened as you turned away and went to your voicemail, playing it with the loud speaker on rather than pressing it to your ear. She was sure it was to let her hear it, and she tried to pretend that she didn’t care even as she leaned a little closer to make sure she picked up every word lest the wind blow it away.

“Hey Oppa,” the message started, a girl giving a sexy, girly tone to her voice, hamming it up in a way that made Nayeon roll her eyes again.

“I really loved that dinner we had, that was a great place,” she continued, Nayeon listening in as whoever it was enthused about the date I’d been out on, innocent enough at first but it devolved very quickly.

“And when we went home...oh my God, I’ve never cum like that before,” she said as Nayeon’s ears pricked up.

“That anal orgasm you gave me, fuck, that was so hot!” she rambled on, making Nayeon blush as she heard it. You looked around at her, caught her little gasp and knew she was listening, grinning as you watched her retreat back.

“Oh very interested now I see,” you teased her, hanging up the phone as the other girl rambled about how you should see each other again, clearly trying not to beg for your attention in the process.

“Wanna hear all about how I fucked some other girl in the ass so hard she came, huh?”

“That’s bullshit,” Nayeon shot back, spinning on her heel to face you, “she’s lying. Girls don’t come from anal.”

“Really?” you asked with a smile, loving her reaction.

“No, women can’t come from straight anal without some kind of vaginal stimulation, rubbing the clit or something,” she said.

“How do you know what went on?” you smiled.

“So you did rub her clit?” Nayeon asked quickly, scolding herself for seeming so eager, like she’d just won or something.

“Nope, all anal, that’s all I did to make her scream,” you grinned, loving how the idol was so invested in it.

“Bullshit,” she said again, more forcefully this time.

“Just because you’ve never come from anal doesn’t mean other women can’t, you just need to get fucked by the right guy,” you shot back.

“I don’t even like anal,” she snapped.

“Just haven’t had the right guy to fuck your ass, that’s all,” you said smugly.

“Fuck off, what is it with guys and anal sex? Why do you always wanna fuck a girl in the ass so much?” she replied fiercely.

“When women have great asses like yours, guys want to fuck it,” you said with a shrug.

“This chick, has she got an ass like mine?”

“No, better.”

“Bullshit, bet she doesn’t,” she bit back, immediately defensive that you would dare another woman had something she didn’t when she knew you’d lusted for her for years.

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it?” you smiled, loving egging her on.

“No, because I know it’s lies,” she said, turning and shaking her ass at you to make her point.

“Keep telling yourself that. You’re the one missing out if you don’t give anal a proper try.”

“That’s what all the boys say,” she smiled, rolling her eyes.

“Your loss.”

“No way you’d make me come, or anyone else for that matter, if you fucked my ass. It’s all empty promises,” she retorted.

“You think so little of me?” you laughed.

“Frankly, yes, since you ask,” she replied with a smile.

“Bet your ass it’s possible,” you muttered quietly, but in the quiet kind of way that let her hear everything you said.

“Alright, fine! Let’s bet,” she demanded, making you immediately turn back to her.

“You wanna bet?”

“Yeah, let’s settle this, since you’re so fucking sure of yourself.”

“Ok, what are you proposing?” you asked.

“We fuck, and you only get to fuck my ass, nothing else. You don’t get to touch my pussy and no rubbing my clit,” she said.

“What’s the catch?”

“If you can’t make me come by fucking my ass, or if you come before I do, then I get that sweet Porsche of yours after all,” she finished.

“And if I win?”

“If you win, which you won’t, then you can take all the slutty pictures of me that you want.”

“Anything?” you confirmed.

“If you can make me come through anal alone, then yes, anything you like,” she said.

“Deal,” you said, extending your hand to her. Nayeon hesitated briefly before going for it, shaking hands firmly with you to secure the bet.

“Get your stuff,” you said, quickly turning to pack yourself.

“What? We’re not finishing our round?”

“Nope. I’m gonna collect on this bet,” you smiled back at her.

“Right now?”

“Yeah, right now,” you said. Nayeon glanced at her watch, knowing she had hours free for you and that it was as good a time as any.

“Ok then, show me what you’ve got, tough guy,” she teased with a little flick of her eyebrows, spinning her driver over in her hands to slide it back into her bag. You turned and headed back to the clubhouse, again behind Nayeon as you checked out her ass, the one you would shortly split in two.

“You coming in?” you asked as you shoved the golf bag into the trunk and shut it, closing the perfectly styled fastback of the black coupe.

“No, I’ll follow in mine,” she said, passing you and heading to her own SUV, huge and hulking in comparison to yours.

“Suit yourself, follow me,” you said, opening the door and sliding into your bucket seat as Nayeon opened her own trunk to load her bags. You didn’t even offer to help. you waited as she sorted herself out and got into the vehicle, signaling she was ready to go and waving you out of the parking lot. You started up the Porsche with a rumble, the throaty sound breaking the beautiful afternoon before slotting it in gear and pulling out.

Nayeon waited a moment and followed, keeping a little distance behind as you led the way. She’d put herself in your control and left it up to you to lead her, in more ways than one. She’d challenged you because she wanted to win, not because she particularly wanted your car as she could easily buy one herself, but because she still felt raw from the jammy way you’d beaten her the first time around with your incredibly lucky hole in one. You’d got more than one hole in the process too.

Nayeon followed your Porsche through the streets away from the golf course and out of town a way, away from the bustle of the city to a more quiet, run down area. Nayeon grimaced as you turned into a small, seedy looking motel where she was sure plenty of tricks got turned when the sun set. You parked up and got out, heading into the office as Nayeon pulled in beside you, choosing to stay in the car and wait until you told her what was going on. There was nobody else around save for a cleaning cart outside one of the rooms, suggesting a maid was making some effort with the place.

you strode back out a couple of minutes later, key in hand for a room paid in cash. The owner knew exactly what you wanted it for, though he had no idea with who, assuming it was another guy stepping out on his wife or vice-versa, having no stake and even less interest in the morals of it either way.

“Come on,” you called Nayeon, the gorgeous idol skulking down behind the steering wheel in her big sunglasses, waiting just a moment longer for you to get to the motel room and start unlocking the door before she hopped out and hurried over, hoping nobody saw her. She flicked the locking on her SUV as she got to the door, you opening it wide to usher her in before you stepped in with her and closed it tightly.

Nayeon looked around at the less than stellar abode; it was just about clean but little more, old and outdated with dodgy looking repairs to the walls and a carpet that looked well past its retirement date. you however were busy yanking the curtains around to block the window and anyone looking in as she took it in, dropping her bag aside on the small table it had.

“Charming place Oppa, couldn’t think of anything better?” she commented.

“You don’t deserve anything better,” you said firmly, immediately grabbing her from behind and pulling her close, your hands cupping her firm breasts neatly with a good squeeze. She gasped and shivered as you kissed at the side of her neck, Nayeon wilting in your arms as your teeth teased at her skin, threatening to leave telltale marks.

“You’re my nasty girl, Nayeon, and you’re gonna get your ass fucked, so who gives a fuck about the room,” you breathed, hands grabbing the bottom of her shirt to pull it over her head where she obliged and put her arms up so you could strip her. Her hair tangled and yanked a little as you aggressively wrenched her top over her head and threw it to the floor, hands immediately squeezing her tits through her bra, harder than she’d normally like but she couldn’t help but love it and the rough, unrelenting way you touched her.

“Fuck, take it easy,” she breathed, even though it was a lie. You saw straight through her of course, knowing she didn’t really want you to be gentle with her.

“I’ll do what I fucking want and you’ll love it,” you hissed over her shoulder, making her tremble, so slender and petite in your arms as you dominated her. Your hands slid down and pushed her shorts down, sending the smaller than necessary garment to her feet. She’d worn them for you, to give you a good look at her ass, playing up to your interest in her and it had helped lead to this moment. Well, her attitude and refusal to back down had, actively inciting the conversation really after she’d nosed on your business due to some jealousy.

You exposed her simple but sexy black thong, hardly ideal attire to play golf but you both knew why she’d chosen it. Your fingers slid into the waistband and pulled it up a bit tighter for a moment, toying with it before you shoved it down and sent it sliding down her smooth legs to join the shorts. Nayeon obediently stepped out and kicked them aside, panties flicking up from her toes onto the bed as you ran your hands down the curves of her waist and over her hips to grope her ass. Her firm booty, your prize, that you would imminently split in two with your cock.

She was nervous, the trepidation of anal sex gnawing at her a little but she couldn’t wait for you to do it, to make her take it and try to make her come. Confident that she wouldn’t and that she’d soon be driving your pretty Porsche home only made her give in. She figured if you were going to prove your point then it was only fair you got to run things, to fuck her your way and enjoy yourself in mission to make her do the same. She comforted herself that it was just playtime, it was fun for both of you until she inevitably flaunted your Porsche the next time you played golf.

“Oh no, no,” Nayeon chided softly, shivering as you reached round and ran your fingers over her smooth pussy, taking in the perfectly shaven lips and letting your middle fingertip just run down her slit. She shuddered at how expertly you split her puffy labia just a little so it brushed over her clit, stimulating her ever so lightly through the hood and making her tremble. But it wasn’t part of the deal.

“That’s off limits,” she said, pulling forward in your grip a little and reaching down to reluctantly stop your hand stroking at her soft, enticing pussy. She knew you could feel that she was already wet.

“I thought I got to do this my way.”

“To fuck my ass, yeah,” she said bluntly, blushing a little as she just blurted it out, “and that’s all. You don’t get to rub my clit first.”

“Suit yourself,” you said, then turned her to push her down on the bed, straight onto all fours in front. Nayeon playfully posed for you, sinking her back and letting her knees slide wider to show herself off. It showed off her smooth, bulging pussy perfectly but more importantly let you see her tight, forbidden asshole where even an hour before she’d never have let you consider squeezing your cock in.

“Perfect,” you smiled as you shed your clothes, stripping yourself as quickly as you’d done her, though she still had her Converse shoes on as she knelt on the low quality bed. She was sure she might be adding some more dents to it imminently and there would be no opportunity to sleep, so it hardly mattered what state it was in.

“Show me what you’re made of, tough guy,” Nayeon murmured, glancing back over her shoulder at you. Her gasp was immediate and sudden as you dived down and pressed your tongue against her asshole, grabbing her hips to hold her in place as you licked over her tightest, naughtiest hole. She choked in surprise and illicit sensation, the feeling like nothing else as you attacked her with power and precision from the off and gave her no chance to ease into it.

She’d never had it before and it completely caught her off guard, just thrown straight into it and she could tell you wasn’t going to let her take it easy, not give her a break or gradually get started. No, you were going to throw it all at her hard and fast, run things your way and keep her on her toes to make her sensations tingle and tremble in every possible direction to overwhelm her. All she could comprehend was the shock of it as your tongue got to work lashing and circling her most forbidden hole.

Her gasps became heavier, groans breaking through as she relished the new and unique sensation of your tongue devouring her asshole, tingling as it almost felt too much to handle. Your fingers dug into her soft skin and pulled her back dominantly, restraining her on the bed as you buried your tongue into her. Her shock turned to willing pleasure, letting her legs slide a little wider, arching her back to push back into you and feel more of your sensual touch over nerve endings she’d never explored.

It started to feel good, really good as the excitement of how new and naughty it was overtook her and she moaned helplessly with pleasure. A tingle ran through her whole body, hands tightening in the cheap sheets as she shivered, body trembling, a stuttering groan escaping her mouth that only told you she loved it. Her clit tingled, hoping you’d swoop down and run your tongue over it even though she’d forbidden it. Instead, you spread her ass wider with your thumbs to expose her more and let you press your lips completely against her, shoving your tongue properly into her now, feeling her sphincter instinctively squeeze and then relax to let you inside her, Nayeon moaning gutturally as you shoved it in.

Nayeon moan whorishly, letting out every expression of pleasure as you buried your tongue inside her, her asshole giving way without a fight as she arched her back and shoved into you, only wanting more of it. You barely needed to hold her as you ferociously eat her ass, thrusting and pumping your tongue inside her, feeling her squeeze tightly as you invaded her most private space. The pretty idol just gasped hungrily, desperately wanting more of your illicit touch as you tongued her asshole, a new and utterly unique sensation that she’d just discovered.

It crossed her mind that things were already not going her way as she was immensely aroused, pussy soaked already with trembles running through her as she knelt completely at your mercy. She’d promised herself she would surrender to you since it was your job to make her come—that was her excuse at least. She just wanted to give herself up to you and get fucked again frankly, she needed it, and the premise of the bet had been straight forward enough though she wouldn’t have necessarily have chosen anal sex.

And then she was abruptly interrupted as you pulled away from her, leaving her ready as she gasped in shock and looked back at you. you pulled some lube from your clothes on the floor and turned back to her, Nayeon’s eyes locking onto your thick, throbbing erection as you uncapped it. She wasn’t sure where you got it from, it didn’t really matter as you squeezed it out and rubbed it over your hard cock, slicking the bulging head as you stepped up behind her. She inhaled as you slicked her tight ring with the thick, silky jelly and then wasted no time in getting straight to it.

Nayeon breathed deeply to calm her racing heart rate, the excitement and nerves rushing up on her, sending adrenaline through her as you reached down and grabbed a rough handful of her long hair. She felt thoroughly controlled as you twisted your grip on her enough to make her wince and pushed your straining cock to her tight, waiting asshole, not being overly gentle with her as you teasingly thrust against her and felt how she resisted, just feeling her out. You held her dominantly in place as you worked against her and eased her open, the thick lube helping ease into her already tongue teased asshole.

Your pace was steady but inexorable, not giving her a chance to resist or pull away, holding her back as you squeezed your cock inside her. It was tight but she gave away, feeling herself stretch naughtily over its invader, using just enough pressure to drive your thick cock inside her without going too fast. She still winced and let out a sharp breath as you popped inside her with a distinctly tight snap, her ring of muscle stretching over your bulging tip as her body finally gave up and let you in.

Her grunt only turned you on more and you grinned to yourself as your cock flexed at the pleasure of her tight asshole, her body gripping your cock as you sunk inside her. You didn’t let it bother you however and started pumping into her steadily, holding her hair still as your other hand slid to her curvy hip to hold her in place and resist her attempts to pull away. She didn’t mean to but it was uncomfortable, struggling with the sharp pain where her sphincter had given way at the last moment.

“Like that, Nayeon?” you teased, “just another one of my little sluts.”

Nayeon seethed a little at that, being just another one of your women with your cock up her ass but she didn’t say a word. She’d literally invited it and had to take it, to let you work your supposed magic on her and bring her to climax like you promised you could.

“The famous idol is on her knees, taking it in the ass like a slut,” you continued, seeing her twitch as she held her temper back, refusing to engage as you started thrusting yourself deeper inside her, making her tightest hole take more of your cock.

“Knew you’d love this,” you added, smiling as you shoved yourself into her firmly, but carefully. Your pace was calm and measured, taking your time with her and letting her ass handle your cock whilst pushing her a little, just finding the right balance with her. Your thrusts were controlled and purposeful, working deeper inside her with your thick prick in longer strokes until her pain faded. Pleasure melted into it all as she felt the full, satisfying sensations of anal sex, nerve endings stroked for the first time by your cock as you pumped her deeper, working all its way inside her until your hips pressed to her toned ass.

“Oh fuck...” Nayeon muttered as she shuddered, the unique sensation of you bottoming out making her quake quite intently. you knew you had her, broken in and able to take it and so started picking up your pace a little. Your pumps got harder and more intent, making sure to go full depth every time so she took all of it and had every nerve ending tingled in the process. She gasped in pleasure, her heart racing as she immediately blushed, barely able to believe she was enjoying it.

Anal sex had always been a painful and undignified experience for her, with guys shoving in far too hard and fast for her to handle, but you had taken your time and warmed her up just perfectly ready for you. As a result, your cock had popped neatly inside her and slid deep with little problem, easing her past the discomfort as you took your time and was now starting to make her tingle in all the right ways.

Her breaths became harder, more intense, more involved as you pumped your thick cock into her, Nayeon thinking about how lewdly stretched her asshole was, how hot it was that it was wrapped rightly around your cock as you pumped into her, flexing all the areas of her that’d never been touched. Your hands still pulled at her, fingers pressing into her soft skin as you readjusted your grip on her hair, keeping her tugged back and dominated, under your full control. She wasn’t going to fight, it was your show and besides, the cascade of building sensations within her as you fucked her ass were overwhelming her.

Her legs twitched, feet kicking as she dug her toes into the bed, twisting the cheap sheets as she arched her back and tried to push back more. Her encouragement made you smile, loving how Nayeon was getting into it, knowing you was pushing her buttons just right and building towards something completely new for her. You held her tightly, your prize the famous idol, down on all fours to fuck like every other girl you enjoyed and absolutely loving it as you picked up the pace to thump on her with harder, shorter strokes that buried as deep as possible.

“Fucking love this, don’t you?” you asked, rhetorically really as Nayeon only moaned a response, shivering and rolling her hips on you, changing the pleasurable feeling of your cock. She never imagined she’d be able to enjoy anal sex, figuring your Porsche was hers the moment she made the bet, but right then she wasn’t so sure. It certainly felt great and there was a deep, building sensation that was gaining momentum within her. She wasn’t entirely sure it was an orgasm, or going to lead to one, but it was certainly nice...and different.

“if only your fans and friends could see you now,” you teased, slapping her ass hard to make her gasp.

“Your precious fans and friends. Bet they’d be shocked if they saw you doing this,” you grinned, fucking her harder, letting yourself get a little more carried away with the sensations of her tight asshole gripping around your shaft. You held onto her and fucked her harder, really taking a step up that knocked the breath out of her for a moment, Nayeon hauling in a huge breath as you plunged deep into her hot asshole.

“Fuck...” she winced, gritting her teeth as the pleasure started to build up rapidly on her, far more distinct and obvious as you pumped her with shorter, faster thrusts, holding her body tight and prone for you to fuck, existing solely for you to enjoy it seemed even though it was her that was starting to struggle towards climax. Her clit throbbed with every thrust and she could tell how wet she was, practically dripping on the bed as you fucked her ass.

Her hands twisted up big fistfuls of the passable sheets, holding herself down as much as bracing for it all as you continued to pull her hair back as you aggressively fucked her. You were working with a clearly practiced rhythm as you hammered into her hard and fast, not overdoing it but more than enough pressure to tell her you were in charge. It was clear to her as her orgasm continued to build, the familiar sensations deep within her telling her that a climax was imminent, her body twitching with little jolts of pleasure and bolts of electricity through her.

Nayeon tried to fight it, to push it down and tell herself it wasn’t happening, that she wouldn’t let it but it only seemed to make it more intense. It was like pulling back a rubber band, the harder she tried the more powerful it became and she just knew it was going to overwhelm her if she let go. She wanted to come, to let that orgasm take her as she already knew it was going to be something different, but she hated the fact that you’d win the bet...again. She just wanted to beat you and had been so sure you had no chance this time, but instead she was on all fours gasping hungrily as you pounded her ass to climax.

You both knew what was happening and you kept going hard, knowing you was hitting the right spot as she twisted and writhed on your prick, clearly wishing she wasn’t enjoying herself like she was but shoving back anyway to maximize your penetration. Your hands held her tightly, Nayeon is all yours as you plundered her ass, something she didn’t even let her boyfriend do and you absolutely loved that. Another your little anal slut, the highest profile you had by miles of course and the fact you could bring her such illicit, unexpected pleasure was a treat.

“Come on, Nayeon, just come for me,” you teased, fucking her ass intently, shaking her whole body with your pounding.

“No, I don’t want to...” she gasped, still fighting it and trying to hold out to win the bet, hoping it would pass and fade.

“Just let it happen,” you laughed, knowing she’d never stop it and that it was already overwhelming her. Nayeon just groaned helplessly as she shook, trembling in pre-orgasmic sensation as it began overtaking her. It still felt different, something new and unique that in some ways didn’t feel like an orgasm but the intensity was powerful, telling her something big was coming. You kept pumping, your rhythm and pace impressive as you thumped your big cock into her stretched asshole and jolted her towards climax.

“Fuck...” Nayeon said, her voice strained, struggling to get the words out as her heart raced, breaths catching in her throat as she tried to rapidly inhale, body just rushing as it all seemed to happen so quickly. It was all new and exciting, but totally overwhelming, something that she’d never experienced before and as a result she couldn’t entirely handle it. Her body bubbled and tingled, coming to the boil slowly but then suddenly rushing up on her all at once as her lithe, toned body gave a sudden quake and her breaths gutturally choked from her in a hard, shocked gasp.

“Oh...god!” She struggled as the huge orgasm hit her, seemingly rushing up from nowhere before either of you knew it was happening. She lost the bet in spectacular fashion as she quaked like never before, body losing all control for a moment it seemed as she hit her peak and lost her breath, so overcome by it all she couldn’t even pull any air in. She gasped desperately as she got past it and took some control, the ecstasy hitting her so intently she didn’t know which way to go, shoving her ass back into you even though it felt too much, her body prickling with pleasure.

It was all too much and she tried to pull away but you kept riding her, holding her back tightly and not letting her escape from the sensations. It was almost a punishment for losing as she bucked and strained under your hold, her mind tumbling, lost in the eclectic blend of all the different feelings rushing through her. The humiliation at losing, the incredible pleasure of a new kind of climax, the dominating feel of your cock thrusting into her ass and the helpless way her body was kicking and fighting it, the explosion lighting up her nerves and throwing her control completely.

Her hand fumbled up from the sheets as she tried to reach back to slow you down, straining away as it became too much, more overwhelming than anything else. Her grunts of pleasure became tight and uncomfortable, wincing as you rode her to the very end of her orgasm and pressed her down into the bed. Pinned down, she gasped helplessly as you fucked her firmly for the final few seconds and made her take your cock deeply, as deep as you could get it to finish off the whole sordid event completely.

You slowed to a stop but remained buried in her asshole, balls deep, not giving her the respite she needed as she helplessly crumpled on the bed beneath you. She was absolutely exhausted and needed time to recover, body feeling completely disconnected from her mind in the wake of her first anal orgasm. Just took a minute or so, gasping sweatily as you pinned her down on the cheap mattress. Nayeon heard a mumble of people through the wall and wondered how much they’d been able to hear of her climax. It didn’t matter, they had no idea who she was, but she still felt somehow exposed.

“So Nayeon, what just happened?” you smiled.

“You won the bet Oppa,” she mumbled.

“Yeah, I did, but how? What did I just do, Nayeon?” you questioned.

“You made me come by fucking my ass,” she muttered, blushing as she sheepishly put her head down, spelling it out directly as if she knew what you wanted to hear.

“Yes, I did,” you smiled, rocking your hips into her a bit to press your still hard cock into her ass to accentuate the point.

“Have you got a vibrator?” you asked.

“Uh...yeah, why?” she asked, taking a moment to find clarity of thought.

“With you?”

“Yeah, in my bag,” she replied.

“For those little treats on the go, huh?” you teased, climbing off her to slide your cock out of her strained asshole for the first time since you’d stretched her open, making her grunt, feeling so empty and used. you slid off and grabbed her bag, tipping the contents out onto the bed next to her and searching briskly through the abundance of make-up, chewing gum and other objects to easily locate the small, hot pink sex toy.

“Perfect,” you said as you grabbed it, sweeping the other stuff aside a little more, out of the way as you focused on her once more. you laid back on the bed next to her and flicked the toy on, checking it had charge as you looked to the exhausted idol beside you.

“Get up,” you ordered her, reaching over to smack her ass. She did as she was told, on autopilot and doing as you told her, pushing herself up onto her knees where you grabbed her hips and pulled her over, facing away into a reverse cowgirl position. Nayeon fumbled sluggishly as she climbed on, her legs heavy after her huge orgasm and still not quite working right. That new, different type of climax had hit her co-ordination and she clumsily slumped into you, taking a moment to get herself together.

She gasped loudly as you wasted no further time and pulled her back down, your hand on her hip to dominantly direct her down and back onto your cock, which you slipped straight back into her ass with no fuss at all. She felt the stretch but it didn’t hurt, her ass already loose and ready, easily wrapping around your cock once more as you pulled her down and buried it into her ass once more.

“Ride,” you commanded her, swatting her ass to spur her on. Nayeon immediately complied and pushed on with her legs, strong things shakily getting to work as she carefully rose up then sank down to work your cock into her tightest hole, the first time she’d ever ridden a cock during anal sex in her life. You didn’t try and run it, letting her set the pace and stroke as you knew she had to get into it, simply laying back and enjoying the sight of the gorgeous Nayeon slowly riding your cock.

Her tight asshole wrapped around you so perfect, stimulating your thick shaft and pulling at your head when she dared to get high enough that you might slip out. As she got more confident and bobbed up and down with ease, getting over the initial trepidation of it all, you flicked on the vibrator and reached over her hip to press it to her clit. She jumped suddenly, not expecting it or the sensation it caused to be so violent, her body ultra sensitive in the wake of everything.

She squealed in pleasure and sensation, your other hand holding her down lest she jolt up and off, her ass squeezing nicely as she shuddered. You gave her a minute to take it all in, quite literally, working against her as she got past the shock and recovered herself.

“Now ride,” you ordered once more. Nayeon hesitated, rocking her hips forward into the vibrating bullet you held on her clit for a second longer before she got to it, pulling her feet underneath her and crouching over you. It folded her legs tighter and changed her position, sitting down more directly into your cock so you could penetrate her deeper, the full length of your cock sinking into her ass as she sat down onto you again.

“Oh fuck,” she whimpered, shaking as your cock drove full depth inside her again and made her tingle, shaking as you pressed the vibrator into her clit more intently. But she did as she was told, obediently now, pushing up to start riding, thrusting herself down onto your impaling cock with careful squeezes of her asshole as she got bold enough to try it. You loved it and she was spurred on by your groans of pleasure, riding a bit faster, getting into it and giving in to the pleasure she felt. It wasn’t just from the vibrator either though that was a major part of it, the intense tingle spreading from her clit.

No, the pleasure of your cock plunging deep into her ass as she forced herself down was deeply satisfying, enjoyable in a unique way and she chased that feeling as she rode. She did as she was told, a good girl, your good girl, riding energetically as she lost herself to all the sensations and stimulation. The full, different feeling of your cock pumping into her ass combined with the intense tingle of her vibrator was like nothing she’d felt before and as a result she lost herself completely, unable to formulate clear thoughts as she was overwhelmed.

Nayeon was completely overstimulated, reaching down to try and pull your hand away with the toy, needing a break to pull her thoughts together. Instead, you just pressed it hard against her, ignoring her feeble attempts to get you to back off, crying out hard but not once slowing her stroke as she continued to ride your cock. It pulsed and flexed inside her enticingly, impossible to resist as she kept fucking hard even as she was desperately trying to get a break from the bullet.

“Fucking love this, don’t you?” you teased.

“Uhhhh...” Nayeon moaned incoherently, adrift in the wash of sensations.

“Love being another one of my anal sluts,” you continued. Nayeon just rasped hard, loudly breaking the air as sweat prickled her brow and she winced at the intense feeling running through her, muscles tightening.

“Another pretty Idol who just loves getting fucked hard.”

She was stung by it but frankly it was true, that moment proved it but she didn’t care, only focused on the overwhelming pleasure as she fucked you hard and made sure to drive your cock as deep as possible inside her with every stroke. Her grunts became loud and heavy, gutturally intense as she just gave in and rocked against the vibrator again, her body awash with the sensations as thousands of nerve endings were stimulated in different ways at once.

“Grunting like a slut as well,” you commented, but Nayeon didn’t care, barely hearing you as she grunted hard and fast, on the brink of another huge climax. It was rising in her and just as she was about to give in to it, to simply let it happen, you changed things up and grabbed her hip, holding her tightly and stopping her shoving down so you could pump up into her. Nayeon’s grunt turned to a scream as you turned it up to eleven and pounded up into her ass with short, hard strokes, the gorgeous idol held tight and clenching around you to make it more intense.

She screamed long and loud, overwhelmed as you thumped the sound from her lungs with your rapid, powerful thrusts that slammed up into her ass as you drove the vibrator intently into her clit. Nayeon had nowhere to go and just screamed her pleasure to the bedroom and anyone near enough that could hear her as her body suddenly boiled over in ecstasy again and she shook powerfully on top of you. She drove herself down, breaking your grip to impale herself fully again as she quaked in orgasm, giving a series of piercing screams of pleasure as she came hard, grinding her hips and working on her clit against the vibrator so it worked over her clit repeatedly.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever come so hard in her life and ached to prolong it, driving her hips hard with a primal rhythm to make it endured as long as possible. Her screams went silence, twitching and bucking in sharp, sudden surges as the pleasure became too much for her, the bolts of electricity more intent and effective as her body shook uncontrollably, fading into stillness as her climax faded and dissipated to nothing but a racing heartbeat and hungry breaths, reaching down to desperately shove you away from her clit in the process.

Before she even had a chance to do anything else you grabbed hold of her and wrenched her off, the idol tumbling off your cock onto the bed beside you. She was at your mercy, flapping limply in the aftermath of another orgasm as you swiftly took charge of her and rolled her onto her back, dragging her slender figure easily to where you wanted it. You were on her in a flash, once more ready to impale her on your thick cock as you threw her toned legs over your shoulders and yanked her into position before you.

“Go easy,” she breathed, wanting a break but knowing you were unlikely to give one. She wasn’t wrong as you completely ignored her, lining your cock up and plunging straight back into her tired, loosened asshole with ease and shoving your hips down to get full depth inside her. Nayeon cried out and weakly tried to stop you, her body surging in a rush on sensations as your bulging head drove deeply inside her again.

You ignored her and drove her down into the cheap mattress, her hands digging into the sheets as she gave up to simply cling on and take it, you in total control as you immediately began pounding into her. There was no mercy, thumping your cock hard and deep inside her, the hardest you had so far as you focused on your own enjoyment and took all you wanted from her taut, tired body. Nayeon groaned heavily, struggling as you smashed her hard and thumped the air from her lungs, her fingers digging sorely into the bed once more as she held on.

It was only fair since she’d had hers and now you will get yours, slamming yourself down against her with powerful grunts, breaths hard and intense as you put it to her and chased the illicit sensation of her tight asshole wrapped around your straining cock. You were completely into it and treating her like a cheap whore you’d picked up, slamming her intently without a care in the world, holding her toned legs over your shoulders as you gave her everything you had whilst ignoring her completely.

Nayeon was spiraling as she held on and took it, her asshole aching from the attention as she gasped desperately. She cried out as you suddenly reached down and slapped her across the face, stinging her, jolting her awake almost as she flinched and recoiled.

“Don’t mark me up,” she gasped, not wanting to explain to her boyfriend where a hand print had come from.

“I’ll do whatever I want, you slut,” you snapped in response, reaching down to grab her throat and choke her. Nayeon’s breath caught sharply, eyes wide as she surged and struggled a moment in shock more than anything else. You held her just long enough to make her squeak before letting go, the idol giving a huge gasp as you did, heart racing as you shoved her across the bed with your brutal pounding of her asshole. She never believed she’d be in such a situation, cheating on her boyfriend and getting hard anal sex in the process but here she was.

You reached out across the bed, slowing your pace momentarily as you grabbed her panties that were clinging onto the corner of the sheets, hooking the black thong onto your fingers before leaning back over her. She grunted as you thrust hard again to swiftly regain the pace you’d had previously, wasting no time in enjoying her sweet ass as you balled up the simple, sexy thong in your hand. Without hesitation you leaned down and stuffed the underwear straight into her mouth making her give a loud, shocked sound that was immediately muffled through the material.

“This’ll keep you quiet. I only want to hear you grunt,” you smiled as you shoved them right into her mouth, your fingers pressing them deep to make her gag, body heaving as you tripped her reflex when they touched the back of her throat. You just relished the chance to treat Nayeon so roughly and flexed your cock as you pumped it deeply inside her. Your pounding was hitting the spot again and she couldn’t quite believe she was enjoying it so much, your domination and dismissal of her just so hot, fucking her ass to your ultimate pleasure. Her hand pulled from the bed and reached down to touch her smoothly shaven pussy, not stopping her and just watching as she quickly located her stiff clit and started massaging it.

Her groan and shudder only made her asshole clench tighter for you and that was nothing but a good thing, pumping your hips and driving your thick cock into the snug, twitching hole. You reached across the bed to the tumble of her stuff, left from where you’d emptied her bag to find her bullet and grabbed hold of her lipstick. It was bright red, slutty, not a subtle everyday shade that she might wear. You uncapped it and twisted it open as you continued to pump your hips forward, revealing the bright stick.

You suddenly buried yourself deep and leaned over her, grabbing her hair to hold her still as she let out a muffled protest and stared widely at you. You used the lipstick to scrawl “SLUT” on her forehead in big bold letters before you knelt back up with a grin and threw it aside, grabbing her thighs again to crank into her as you started thrusting once more. Nayeon wasn’t sure what you’d done but assumed you’d written something derogatory on her, expecting little else, but it didn’t matter as she was simply losing it then.

Her fingers got back to work at her clit, rubbing busily as you started really pounding her, leaning over her and rolling her hips back to you could plunge deep and hard into her asshole. Your hips shoved hard against her sculpted ass, pressing into her booty over and over as you jammed yourself into her with short, hard thrusts. She was propelled towards the edge of the bed, sliding on the passable sheets as you fucked her harder than she’d ever imagined she’d be able to handle, your cock splitting her tight asshole in two as you drove into her.

Nayeon was completely lost to it as you pounded her asshole hard, harder than she’d ever experienced, her fingers dancing so easily on her clit, her well practiced technique doing the job to accentuate the sensations of the fucking. Anal might not be her bag, or so she claimed, but mixed with her fingers it was more than enough. After another minute or so of you ploughing her ass hard and her touch getting harder, faster and more aggressive she shuddered hard as another short but powerful orgasm quaked her soul.

Her noises were muffled by her panties, the black thong still stuffed in her mouth where she obediently kept it despite the humiliation of it, grunting hard through it as her eyes squeezed shut, body shaking and clenching around you. It was a bit too tight, rather uncomfortable as her stretched, strained asshole was at breaking point, barely able to keep it together before it lost all sense of strength under the energetic fucking. You’d shoved her to the edge of the bed in the excitement and with her shakes she was suddenly over the side, squealing through her makeshift gag as she tumbled back off the bed onto her shoulders.

Her legs flailed as she landed with her ass up in the air, still twitching and kicking in climax as it faded as she was suddenly presented in the perfect piledriver position. She was barely conscious of it however as she passed out, overwhelmed by it all, the sensations of another orgasm mixing with the relentless anal pounding you were putting on her. It was all too much and her world faded, slumped back on her shoulders by the bed as you just kept going, riding her over the edge and slamming down into her.

You didn’t care that she’d passed out either, smiling to yourself in sheer enjoyment as you kept fucking her exhausted body, stepping off the bed and over her for maximum penetration, driving yourself down hard into the collapsed star. Your cock throbbed and tingled with pleasure, letting yourself really feel it as you worked to the finish, the idol slumped under your efforts and completely fucked out. Making her come from anal sex, like you’d promised, had been another personal triumph and you enjoyed that as you pounded her hard and deep, your cock bucking as you approached climax.

You relished that final few seconds, pounding into the wrecked star, her legs flopping as she laid helples. you felt the inevitable tingle and your cock stiffening fully, taking a chance on a final few strokes into her before you yanked it out and grabbed hold of yourself firmly, stroking fast. Jerking your cock furiously, you held on as long as you could possibly handle and then aimed down at her pretty face, between her folded legs and exploded with a grunt of ecstasy. Your first thick spurt was perfectly on target and spattered across her gorgeous features, Nayeon twitching as it shocked her a little and spurred her back towards attention.

Your aim was locked in and you grunted hard with every subsequent burst from your cock, ejaculating thick, salty come down over her for an impressive facial. By the time you were shivering and squeezing out the last of your load she was covered, coated with a facial she fully deserved, your prize after fucking her so impressively to the orgasm she’d claimed was impossible. Well, one of the prizes, as you still had to claim what she’d actually bet on which was photographs of her.

You stepped off her, straightening up with a shiver and a smile, grinning to yourself as you breathed deep to recover in the wake of a job well done. You wasted no time however and quickly found your phone from your pocket, flicking it onto camera and stepping back to the exhausted idol, still practically unconscious at the side of the bed. You steadied yourself and perfectly framed her asshole, loose and open in the wake of intense fuck, her legs slumping back only helping to spread her for the camera. you snapped several shots, getting exactly what you came for, before you stepped back to grab a couple of pictures of her wrecked form.

Seeing Nayeon slumped back, just about coming round in the aftermath of it all, was hot and you loved the way she was then compared to her hot headed attitude just a little while before at the golf course. Before she had a chance to completely come to you stepped over her and got pictures of her face with your thick load splashed across it, your masterpiece almost but it was also just fantastic to have a photo of Nayeon in perhaps the sluttiest state she’d ever been.

“You alright?” you asked, throwing the phone aside as Nayeon stirred, mumbling and inhaling deeply as she came around, trying to stop her spinning head as she looked around blearily.

“Yeah, just...yeah, give me a minute,” she murmured, pushing away from the bed and rolling down onto her side, getting the rush of blood away from her head as she dropped her legs.

“Sure,” you smiled, turning back to get dressed again. It was a quick and easy process and as she laid on the questionable floor breathing hard, trying to process everything, you got your clothes on and tucked your phone safely back in your pocket. You smiled as Nayeon slowly pulled herself onto her knees, one of her eyes closed from your handiwork, yanking herself up onto the bed as she reached out to grab a tissue from the side. Cheap as the motel was, at least they offered that.

She contemplated what had just happened; she’d cheated on her boyfriend, again, unable to resist the temptation on what she’d thought was a safe bet. An easy way to restore her pride and take your prized Porsche off you, but all it had led to was her passed out on a cheap motel room floor with an aching asshole and embarrassingly huge orgasms in her wake, not to mention a massive boost to your ego. She was mad, or rather wanted to be mad, because the fact was you’d made her come like she never had before and the climax had been massive, totally new and overwhelming. It was hard to look back at it with much regret.

“That was something else,” she said as she wiped her face, giving a wince as she moved a little and strained herself, a twinge running through her gaping, exhausted asshole. Completely destroyed and she knew it would take days to recover from what had just happened.

“You can say that again, that’s two nothing to me,” you grinned.

“I’m sure you won’t let me forget it,” she mumbled.

“Nope. You’ll have to try and even the score.”

“Maybe I’ll quit making these stupid bets, I don’t seem to have much luck,” she replied.

“I dunno, there could be worse ways to lose a bet,” you said.

“I guess.”

“Anyway, I’m outta here, we’ll catch up for some more golf soon,” you said abruptly, turning to the door.

“What?! Wait, what do you mean you’re going? What the fuck am I supposed to do?” she exclaimed.

“Take a shower, get dressed, then take the keys back to the desk,” you smiled, throwing them onto the bed in front of her.

“I can’t do that!” she said.

“Well, you’d better, someone has to check out of this flophouse. I’ve got a Porsche to drive,” you smiled and with that opened the door and walked out, Nayeon cowering behind the bed in case someone was outside. You pulled it shut but not fully, leaving a gap as you laughed and walked across to your gleaming black car in the parking lot.

“Fucking asshole!” she snapped to herself, quickly throwing herself over the bed and towards the door with another wince of pain from her ass, staying the side away from the opening to slam it shut and lock it. It was an irritation, part of your game, on top of the final humiliation she’d have to face in checking out of the place. She only hoped that whoever was at the desk didn’t recognize her when she did it, not wanting even a hint of what she’d been up to getting out.

Nobody was going to know besides you—nobody. But she knew temptation would get her again, knew she’d give into it, especially if you were gonna fuck her like that, like nobody else ever had.

She was always going to be weak to your evident skill. She just prayed you would be as quiet as her.

[impyssadobsessions]

Here's a comic depicting a snippet of a story Idea I have. >w<

(Link to Reference Art I made of Danny) Danny comes across Clockwork's lair, see's some visions of a past he wasn't quite sure of whose, before being dropped down a hole where CW cryptically fills him in as to why he had summon him. Thus dropping Danny into this new world with only knowing he has to save a guy name Dante- and defeat Pariah again. He falls through a roof of a thrift store- fights some skeleton demons with the racks after learning something is weird with his powers as he cannot change into phantom and his body feels weird. His clothes get ripped and tatter thus him "borrowing" clothes and walking out to see the extent of what Pariah has already done.

Which causes him to run into a big bull demon and fights him one to one- while learning the new limitations on his powers/how they work in this world. Spoiled below more ideas that are very rough and not set in stone. That I copied and pasted from my word document- which was just hastily written down as to not forget.

Danny is summon for another favor for Clockwork- CW isnt in the tower but screens of timelines are playing around the room. Danny thinks some of them are cool- wondering when and where that is- until he see one of a woman running with a baby in her arms. Cut back to danny who falls through a hole in the ground and winds up falling into a thrift store. His form has changed and his powers don't really work how they were suppose to. Maybe instead following Pariah into the demon world- finding himself in same scenario. Maybe CW gives only cryptic word help dante. But dante supposedly still gone so meets nero instead. Nero over time realizes Danny might not be human- doesn't think ghost- but assume Danny might be Dante's son... for various reasoning. ---Maybe CW is split in two reason Danny was able to live on the other side. (because of legend of Pariah having been banished to in between because he was feared by demons- only for him to take over new world and being sealed there. Chronos was part of the reason he got banished. ) -Pariah Dark being big bad. But once Danny wins title of king the curse tries to bind him. Then Clockwork stabs him to the ground with his staff- essentially winning the title and being sealed away with Pariah. Danny is rescued by Dante, and he uses the staff to slow the closing of the portal. Everyone safe and rescued. Danny stands where the portal was and cries. Overwhelmed by information and also realizing he has no way back home.

--- Also thought of an idea for a sequel idea- where Danny is in a comatose state but it is revealed after a seemingly heartwarming scene of Dante and Danny watching the sunset peacefully as father and son. Then Nero arrives to pick up Danny. Dante reveals that they know where the guy who did this to danny is and how to get Danny back to normal. (Vergil having scouted ahead) Dante leaves to help clear out the problem leaving Nero with literal dead weight as Nero has to take Danny's lifeless body to the lair- Danny slowly regaining some motion as he gets closer to his-self. Nero at first saying Danny owes him big time- but as it goes on Nero like- hey don't pay it back all in one go- I still need at least one favor so I could spend a nice night with kyrie. (Because Danny uses his blood to help Nero fight back the ghosts- and then him phasing them through a collapsed ceiling while still in a coma like state) Very Nero centric taking care of Danny- and whose been taking the most care of Danny. So very much him just talking one sided to Danny but seriously hoping for the best. And to clock the guy who did this. Which my idea that it be actually Dan ;3 who split Danny apart.

[gaddaboutgriffon]

Super Phantom

Writing prompt #3

Danny reveals his ghost half to his parents and they took it well accepting him. As a result the doctors Fenton then backed out of the weapons deal they had with the GIW and are actively protecting Phantom from them.

The GIW don’t give up even after the anti ecto acts are being repealed and sabotaged the gas tank for Nasty Burger’s grill. This causes the explosion that would Kill Danny’s family and friends there for Jazz’s graduation celebration. Clockwork foresaw of a Dan event happening and froze time to take and de-age Danny, Jazz, Sam, Tucker and Vallarta. (Clockwork is a jerk and frankly blames Jack and Maddie for making the he portals that caused both Vlad and Danny’s halfa status and a lot more work for him. He is letting those two die.)

Clockwork then sends the Deaged to babies/toddler to different places in the Yong Justice cartoon DC universe. All the kids are liminal and have powers.

Jazz now a 3 year old is sent to Hippallita on Themescira. (Excuse my spelling) liminal powers make her strength on par with Amazons.

Sam, age 1 as well and sent to Giovanni Zattarra. Three year old Zatana gets a younger sister that also has the gift of magic. Especially nature/plant magic.

Tucker I had a hard time deciding but eventually chose Lucius Fox. (If you can think of someone better go ahead and make suggestions.)

Vallarie was Supposed to be sent to Ted Kord, but Lex Luthor was trying to tap into the watchtower’s zeta tubs but accidentally got clockwork’s portal instead. It cased he basket to be dropped instead of gently set down. Startled, two year old Vallarie instinctively activates her ghost tech armor. Now that is a curious unexpected asset Lex will find a way to utilize.

And finally deaged to one year old Danny is sent in a in a basket with a solar system print blanket with a envelope sitting on top. The portal opens and the basket is carefully set on the table with the note. Then clockwork places a folder thick with other papers of to the side. He retreats into the portal closing it behind him just as the apartment door is opening.

Clark Kent has just finished his third week of work at the Daily Planet, the evening patrol and even grocery shopping. Thoughts of the paper he needs to write and turn in the morning are on his mind as he enters his apartment in time to notice a Green glow wink out of existence from his kitchen door. He drops the now forgotten grocery bags when he hears the tiny heartbeat and rushes over to the basket on the table.

A sleeping baby. A baby! Wha- how had anyone. When his brain stops stalling he notices the letter. It reads:

Superman,

The boy’s name is Danny. You are the most likely to survive him learning to use his powers as they emerge. His parents died trying to protect him. It is not safe for him here.

I have already forged the legal documents naming you as his godfather and a cover story in the attached folder. Also three gold coins will be sent to you each month as child support. If anyone else looks at this letter the text will change to simply read that you are the godfather of this recently orphaned boy.

Clockwork.

Clark stood in shock rereading the letter in shock a dozen times. Before Lois snapped him out of it.

“Hey Smallville, it may not be Gotham but even in Metropolis you shouldn’t just leave your door open.” She called as she entered from the hall. Then she noticed the spilled bags of groceries on the floor. And came in. “Are you ok? You may be a klutz but you always pick u- Oh My God, That’s a Baby!”

Well that is enough for tonight. I will add on more later. Wonder how quickly this would grow if I don’t tag anyone? Eh just a few. @bloggerspam @confusedshades @hypewinter @zylev-blog @kizzer55555

[perlelune]

Glory And Gore | Feyd-Rautha

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

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

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

“I don’t want to.”

“You must.”

“Mother-”

“Use it!”

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

You study your mother’s face. 

An unsettling realization crashes over you.

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

You swallow a deep, calming breath.

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

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

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

“Again,” she barks.

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

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

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

You meet your mother’s harsh stare.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She approaches you, kneeling in front of your chair.

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

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

She places her forehead against yours, cupping your cheeks.

The combination of your two voices echoes in the room.

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

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

Your eyes flutter open. 

Your mother’s fingers wrap around yours.

“Reverend Mother will see you tomorrow.”

“So soon?”

“You are of age. It is time.”

“Time for what?”

A shadow flits across her eyes.

“For the Gom Jabbar.”

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

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

“You will learn soon enough,” she says.

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

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

The world in flames, while you burn alongside it.

You awake drenched in your own sweat. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come closer, child.”

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

You land in front of her, stunned and shivering.

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

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

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

“I…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You yield to to the second hunch.

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

“Poisoned needle?” you absently wonder.

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

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

“What’s in the box?”

“Pain.”

Tingles begin to spread.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Enough,” she says.

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

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

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

“You almost failed the test, I hear.”

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

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

So you swallowed your reluctance and agreed to come.

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

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

You nod, gaze colliding with hers.

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

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

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

Your mother’s stern brow furrows.

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

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

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

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

“What is it?” you ask.

“Open it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The frown on your face deepens.

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

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

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

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

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

Hopelessness surges through you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You mimic her. The baron leers at you.

“She is even more exquisite in person.”

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

Your mother’s gaze sweeps across her surroundings.

“The na-Baron isn’t in attendance?”

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

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

You clutch the small chest in your hands. 

“I…”

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

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

“Slave!” 

One the cowering servants leaps from the circle. 

“Yes, sire?” the boy mumbles.

“Escort the girl to my nephew at once.”

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

“Follow me, my Lady,” he says. 

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

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

Sucking a deep breath, you turn away.

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

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

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

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

You open the chest and present the knives to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were struck with shock that day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A whispery croak slips through your lips.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sickness spreads through your being. You avert your gaze.

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

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

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

“So, what did you think of him?”

“Who?” you reply, feigning ignorance.

She sighs. “Feyd-Rautha.”

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

Sadist. Psychopath. Deranged. 

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

You utter none of them.

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

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

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

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

A shiver ripples through your spine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your sight fills with Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.

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

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

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

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

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

“You left early.”

You cast a puzzled frown upon him.

“In the arena," he specifies.

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

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

A humming sound pours from his throat.

“Perhaps it was careless then.”

Confusion flutters through you.

“Careless?”

A wicked smile tilts his lips skyward.

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

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

“You say such strange things, my lord.”

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

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

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

His sinister chuckle bounces against the walls.

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

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

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

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

He leans close to you. Your pulse soars.

“What are you doing?”

His lids sag as he drinks you in.

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

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

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

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

Your panic swells. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

You cast a tearful gaze towards her. 

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

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

Her face becomes stern, impenetrable.

“Apologies, sweet child. We cannot.”

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

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

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

Your voice trembles.

“And Father agreed?”

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

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

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

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

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

“He is a monster.”

“I’m afraid it’s irrelevant.”

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

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

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

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

“Do you see what he has done to me?”

“Mother, please…”

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

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

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

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

You are completely alone. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Getting past the guards is easy enough. 

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

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

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

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

They catch on quick, too quick. 

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

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

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

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

The man who caught you barks a derisive snicker.

“An outworlder. How exotic.”

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

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

Elated chuckles burst in the darkness.

“That royal bitch will make us rich.”

The man who smelled you licks his lips. 

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

“Me neither.”

“This is a once in a lifetime-”

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

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

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

A shaky breath spills from your throat.

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

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

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

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

Tremulous words trickle through your lips.

“Just let me go home.”

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

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

Feyd-Rautha snorts.

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

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

You stumble back, hands flying to your mouth. 

Satisfaction twinkles in Feyd-Rautha’s dusky orbs.

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

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

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

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

“Get her ready for me,” he says.

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

Your eyes swing upward in alertness.

“Ready for what?”

His inflection is chillingly matter-of-fact.

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

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

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

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

“Speak, slave,” he orders.

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

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

His dark chuckle resonates in your ear.

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

Your stomach sinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The thought overwhelms you with sadness. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The agony seems to stretch into eternity. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[princesssarisa]

As I've read different people's views on Little Women, I've realized that for different readers, it's a fundamentally different book.

When I see someone describe the "universal" experiences of identifying with Jo, wanting her to marry Laurie, and disliking Amy, I remember all the proof I've seen that these are far from universal. The latter two weren't even my experiences: identifying with Jo, yes, but shipping her with Laurie and disliking Amy, no!

Even people with equal amounts of knowledge of the historical context and of Louisa May Alcott's life seem to come away with vastly different feelings about the story and characters.

I suppose there are a wide variety of reasons for this. First and foremost, which of the four March sisters you personally admire or relate to the most. Then there are other factors like your gender, your age when you first read the book, your relationship (good or bad) with traditional femininity, whether you read Parts I and II as a single novel or as Little Women and Good Wives, your relationships with your own family members, your religion and ethical values...

The list goes on.

That post from @theevilanonblog that I reblogged recently about the different interpretations of Frankenstein makes me want to write out a similar list of ten different views I've read of Little Women. Here it is:

Little Women is about the March sisters learning to be proper virtuous women of their time and place. With Marmee as their role model (a role later shared by Beth as she becomes increasingly angelic in her illness), they learn to conquer their flaws, give up their wild ambitions, and settle down as good wives and mothers. This is especially true for Jo, whose character arc is a slow taming from a rough tomboy to a gentle nurturer. It's a conformist and anti-feminist message, which Alcott probably disliked, but she wrote it to cater to public tastes. (This reading seems mainly to come from critics who dislike the book.)

Little Women is about Jo's struggle to stay true to herself in a world that wants to change her. She struggles with whether to stay a tomboy or become a proper lady, whether or not to marry Laurie despite not loving him romantically, and as an author, whether to write what she wants, write what earns the most money, or give up her writing altogether. In the end, she changes only in ways that make her happy, e.g. by learning to control her temper, and later by embracing romantic love. But in more important ways, she stays true to herself: always remaining slightly rugged, clumsy and "masculine," finding success as a writer, and marrying Friedrich, a man just as plain and "unromantic" as herself, but whom she loves and who respects her as an equal.

Little Women is about learning to "live for others." That phrase is used often and could well be the arc words. Beth is the only March sister to whom a selfless life comes naturally, but the other three master it by the end of the story (as does Laurie). They learn to conquer their moments of pettiness and selfishness, to live in better harmony with each other and with their friends and love interests, and to give up their self-centered dreams of fame and wealth, building lives that focus on service instead.

Little Women is about growing up. The first half is mainly about the March girls' maturing by surviving hard times and learning to be better people, while the second half is about reaching adulthood and bittersweetly parting ways to start new lives. At the beginning, Jo is a girl who doesn't want to grow up: she wants to always be a wild young tomboy with her family (and Laurie) by her side forever. But of course, she can't stop time or womanhood, and is eventually forced to accept the loss of Meg, Amy, and Laurie to marriage and Beth to death. After grieving for a while, she lets go of her old life and willingly builds a new one with Friedrich.

Little Women is about family bonds and the fear of losing them. We meet and become attached to the wonderfully close, cozy March family, which gradually expands through friendships, marriage, and new babies. But throughout the story, the family is in danger of breaking apart, whether due to conflict (Jo and Amy's sibling rivalry, Meg and John's marital problems), or separation by distance (Father going away to war, Amy going to Europe, Jo to New York), or death (the danger of losing Father and Beth in Part I, and the ultimate loss of Beth in Part II). But in the end – unlike in reading #4 above – the family doesn't break apart and never will. Conflicts are resolved, travelers eventually come home, the surviving family members always live near each other and stay as close as ever, and even Beth isn't really gone, because her memory and influence live on.

Little Women is about femininity and each March sister's relationship with it. Meg and Amy happily conform in different ways: Meg to "domestic femininity" as a housewife, Amy to "ornamental femininity" as a society lady. Beth pressures herself to conform to self-effacing domestic femininity, until sadly, it kills her – either because she's too selfless and nurturing when she cares for the fever-infected Hummels, or because she has anorexia, as Lizzie Alcott might have had. But Jo strikes a successful balance in the end, conforming just enough to fit into society, but only on her own terms, and otherwise living a happily unconventional life as a writer and schoolmistress.

Little Women is about Jo's unlearning of internalized misogyny. At the beginning, she's a "Not Like Other Girls" tomboy, who wishes she were male, disdains feminine girls (especially her sister Amy), doesn't care enough when "her boy" Laurie behaves badly toward women, and is afraid to be vulnerable. But gradually, and without losing her strength of character, she learns to embrace the sweeter and more tender aspects of herself, sees that Amy's ladylike manners have practical benefits, and learns to say "no" to Laurie when he turns his childish, unhealthy romantic attentions to her. Then after Beth dies, she realizes how precious Beth's utterly domestic, feminine life was, and embraces a more domestic life herself. Yet by doing so, she becomes a true feminist, as she enters an egalitarian marriage and devotes her life to teaching boys to be good, respectful men.

Little Women is only what US Americans know as the first half. It's just about the March sisters getting by and learning moral lessons over the course of the year their father is away at war. Nobody gets married and nobody dies. Everything else is in Good Wives, which is a sequel with different character arcs and different themes, and which should be published separately, as it originally was and still is outside the US. Trying to tie them together into one narrative never feels quite right.

Little Women is Alcott's idealized version of her own life and family, where no one suffers quite as much as they did in real life, everyone is slightly less flawed, and Jo ends up happily married to a man very much like Alcott's lost love Henry David Thoreau. She wrote the life she wished she had.

Little Women is just a semi-autobiographical slice-of-life that Alcott wrote quickly for money.

Which is the truest to Alcott's intent? I don't know. But while some of these readings I like better than others – and some of them I despise – I'd say they're all understandable and reasonably valid. Some aren't even mutually exclusive, but can be used together... although of course, other readings are mutually exclusive, like whether the story is feminist or anti-feminist, or whether the March family ultimately breaks apart or holds together. And they're all worth using as springboards for discussion.

Alcott wrote more books than she ever realized she did, because Little Women can be many different books to different people.

@littlewomenpodcast, @joandfriedrich, @thatscarletflycatcher, @fictionadventurer, @fandomsarefamily1966

[annwrites]

⸻ tell me i'm your national anthem. part one.

· pairing: homelander x collegestudent!reader · type: part of a series · summary: homelander comes to your college as a guest speaker. uninterested in him, or anyone of his ilk, you pay him no mind, while you're all he's able to focus on, due to your disrespect. with a bruised ego, he goes to the dean of the school afterward with a made-up tale about wanting to repay you for kind words & is then allowed to go through the student roster. that evening while making dinner, unexpected company arrives on your balcony, refusing to leave until they're let in... · tw: non-con, misogyny, obsessive behavior, stalking · word count: 2,857

You are the utter image of disrespect. Here he stands—Homelander—the savior of America, and there you sit in your seat staring down at a tablet. Doing, presumably, schoolwork.

Every pair of eyes is on him except yours. As if some goddamn essay or worksheet is more important than him and the wisdom—scripted or otherwise—he has to bestow upon all your young, moronic minds.

And when he closes his speech—your classmates immediately swarm, eager for ‘selfies’, and autographs, and to ask ignorant questions.

But you? You’re the first one out of the goddamn room.

You don’t even spare him a glance.

He makes up a story, which he feeds to your university’s dean, and he drinks it down like the smoothest cup of milk.

“I didn’t manage to get her name, but I’m sure if I look through your student roster that I’ll be able to identify her. It’s just that what she said…” He gives a dramatic pause, a melancholic smile, with a small shake of his head. “It went straight to the heart. So, I’d just like to send her something to say thank you, since I most unfortunately didn’t get that opportunity today. Maybe an edible arrangement, or a new computer for her important academic pursuits.”

There’s a loud thump on your balcony and you jolt, nearly dropping the spatula in your now-shaking hand.

You set it down upon the spoon rest, grabbing a knife instead, and with a pounding heart, and trembling limbs, step to the side—toward the glass doors of your balcony and the knife slips from your hand, clattering against the hardwood floor.

On the other side stands Homelander, a sinister smile on his face, his knuckles rapping against the glass, an expectant look in his eyes.

Your mind detaches from your body as it begins to race.

You’re hallucinating. You’d bought a new bottle of seasoning from the grocery store down the street for dinner tonight. Maybe you were having a reaction to it. Or maybe he really is here and he needs help. He doesn’t get hurt, though, does he? You don’t know much about him, in truth. He’d been at your college this morning. Does him being here now having something to do with that? You’d not spoken to or even acknowledged him, so how could it?

Does it have to do with Emma, then? She worships the ground he walks on—had apparently been one of the first people to ask for his autograph this morning, from what she’d told you. Maybe he’s looking for her? But she doesn’t live with you…

You turn the lock, then the handle, and you stare up at him. “H-Homelander?”

It feels pathetic to call him that. Some manufactured name that you’re sure a marketing department came up with so many years ago, but no one knows his real one. As if that’s not another measured choice made by Vought—someone learns it and then digging into his past begins. God forbid he’s no longer America’s plastic darling—an overgrown action figure. And he looks the part now just as much as he did this morning. Does he never get tired of the ridiculous costume?

“I came for an apology,” he states matter-of-factly, smile fading as he steps inside your apartment, staring down at you.

You shuffle back. “I—uh—how—”

“See,” he starts, raising a finger, wagging it at you like you’re a petulant child that’s about to receive a lecture. “I take precious time out of my day—we both know how important my time is. I mean…it’s far more valuable as compared to someone like yours—someone inconsequential and worthless, that is—to come to your little ‘institution’ of academics to bestow wisdom upon all of you morons, and instead of you giving me the respect I’m owed, you couldn’t be bothered to so much as look in my general direction.”

You merely stare up at him in fear, your heart hammering away—the sound causing his lip to twitch in satisfaction.

“Are you fucking stupid?” He asks lowly.

“Speak!” He shouts.

You jump. “I—I’m sorry?”

He purses his lips, shaking his head. “Mm, see, that wasn’t very convincing.”

He takes another step toward you, then another and another, while you stutter and shuffle your feet, desperate to back away from him, until you’re pinned between his broad frame and a kitchen counter.

He takes your face in his solid grip, squeezing your cheeks so hard that it hurts. If he wanted to pop your head like a cherry tomato right now…he could.

You fear that you may loose your bladder at the thought.

“Did mommy and daddy not teach their little girl respect?” He asks with a raised brow.

You continue to stare in terror.

He shrugs, brushing his gloved thumb over your lower lip. “I could always just make you get on your knees. To either suck me off or lick my boots. Maybe both,” he finishes with a grin.

You shouldn’t be surprised by this. In truth, you half are and aren’t. They’re all egotistical monsters. The smiles and kissing babies and playing the hero on live TV is all an act. This is the real him.

Not a hero. A villain.

And he wants to know why you didn’t give him an ounce of your attention, as if it should be some great mystery.

“I—I’m not doing that. I don’t…I don’t understand why you even care. What… Why you’re here, I mean. How you even—”

He sneers. “Do you not like me? I’m a fucking hero! I am the face of this country. Yet you treat me like any other insignificant schmuck on the street. I deserve some goddamn respect!”

Tears sting your wide eyes. “I dislike all celebrities the same. Please, just—”

He raises a brow. “I am not just some ‘celebrity’. I protect you. I look out for you. And this is the thanks I get for it? Some sniveling little bitc—”

It’s just then that you remember.

You shove him away from you, flipping the stove off, your burger now just a hunk of charcoal.

You throw the pan into the sink, turning the faucet on and steam begins to rise as the pan sizzles.

You groan in irritation, shoulders slumping forward.

“That was my dinner,” you mumble.

Homelander smirks. “Y’know what? That does seem like a good start at fixing things between the two of us. You can have the honor of making me dinner. Maybe we play house for the evening.”

You turn back around with furrowed brows, sure that he must be joking. This entire experience feels like a bad trip. You have the world’s strongest—most famous, even—man in your apartment whining over hurt feelings and asking you to make him dinner like you’re some obedient little housewife.

He takes a step closer.

“Go on, start cooking. Before I make you,” he says, tone low and threatening.

Your eyes flit between his for just a moment before you turn slowly back around, turning the burner back on, having no idea what to even prepare for him.

That’d been the last of your hamburger meat…

You glance to your bread box, while Homelander seats himself comfortably at your small dining table.

“How does a grilled cheese sandwich sound?”

He’s pleased with that offer—something a mother would make for her little one, he thinks.

“I’ll take two,” he replies with a chipper tune.

You nod, retrieving a plate from a cabinet, then open the fridge to grab a small tub of butter.

“I’d like a glass of milk,” he says, interrupting you.

You grab the jug, pouring him a glass as requested.

Your hand shakes as you hold it toward him, but he merely takes it from you with a smile. “Thank you, sweetie.”

You stay quiet, turning back to the stove, Homelander watching your every move.

“Would you mind cutting the crusts off?”

You do as he’s asked without complaint, even if he’s being utterly juvenile right now.

He’s just trying to get under your skin, you’re sure. He’ll eat the sandwiches, then go. And the only time you’ll ever see him again will be on TV. Like normal.

Maybe it’s not such a good thing that he knows where you live now…

You grab the edge of the plate and he speaks again. “And can you cut them each into triangles?”

You raise a brow, but he can’t see it with your back still turned.

“I always thought that was so…charming,” he says with a grin.

So the God of America is a giant manchild, it turns out. Great.

You finally turn around, settling the plate in front of him and then he holds his empty glass toward you.

You give him a refill, silently sliding it back to him, seating yourself across from him.

You fold your hands nervously in your lap.

“Just going to sit there and watch me eat?” He asks, taking his first bite.

You swallow thickly. “I’m…not hungry anymore.”

He leans back, chewing, then swallowing. “What’re you in school for, then?”

This entire experience feels completely surreal. You’re sure at any moment you’ll wake up.

Wait.

What if you have a gas leak? Your stove is electric, but this apartment complex probably has a gas line somewhere, right? You make a mental note to check on that later.

“Creative writing,” you reply quietly.

Not even you could’ve crafted a story this ridiculous and far-fetched.

“Read me something you’ve written.”

You shift uncomfortably and he notes your heart skipping a beat. You’re insecure about it—the things you create. He relates to that—being insecure about that which you’re most passionate about. How strange a dichotomy it is.

“I don’t…I don’t want to.”

He leans in toward you. “Well, it’s either that, or, once I’m done with my dinner, I carry you over to your bed and have my way with you. Whether you want to or not.”

He can’t possibly be serious. He’s not…he’s a not a rapist. Right? Then again…he’d already threatened to force you onto your knees.

You stand, padding across the room and retrieve your laptop from atop your bed—swiping tears from your eyes—returning to him.

You turn it on and begin browsing through your documents—trying to find one that’s both innocuous, but interesting enough.

And then he shakes his head. “Nope. Give it here. I get to choose which one,” he says, motioning for the device with his hand.

You do as instructed and begin to feel just a tad nauseated as you watch him peruse your computer for a story.

And then he smirks, clicking, turning it back to you.

Blood rushes to your face.

He takes another bite of his sandwich, then a sip of his milk. “Go on then. Almost done. Or don’t. I win either way,” he says with a slight shrug, taking another bite.

He had to choose the one document that is a story of pure smut.

You clear your throat nervously, knowing you have no other choice. Fighting against him would be futile. Him overpowering you would take no effort on his part whatsoever. You’re sure that’s what he wants anyway. And you’re not about to just hand yourself over to him.

This embarrassment will be temporary.

The memory of him…you'd never forget. Nor would you ever be able to tell.

“He—” you pause, sighing, straightening your spine, then tell yourself just to get through it.

You’re not the first person to have ever written a sex scene before.

“He eases her slender legs over his shoulders, kissing her inner thighs gently, enjoying the lovely sounds that slip from her beautiful lips, begging for him. Her lover, her soulmate, her entire world—wishing for the two of them to finally be joined as one in this final way. And then he kisses her lips—her most intimate ones.”

John’s lip twitches. Not just at the mortified look upon your adorable face, but the delicious fucking smell of your arousal.

He wonders if the story is written as mere fantasy or from memory.

He intends to find out.

Tonight.

You gently take Homelander’s empty plate from him, your face flushed—now slick between your thighs—but you stay quiet, feeling humiliated. You want him to leave. Want to never see him again.

You’ve never felt so disrespected.

But that had been the point, hadn’t it? To make you feel how he thinks you made him feel that morning.

You hate him.

And now you’ll have to live with this. Knowing what he’s really like, and unable to tell anyone while the rest of the country—the world—continues to worship at his altar that’s built upon countless lies.

You put his plate in the dishwasher, then his glass, and it’s when you straighten that you feel large hands coming to rest firmly atop your shoulders.

You freeze, heartrate quickening once again.

His gloved hands then slide down your arms and your chin wobbles.

“So, was it just fantasy, or reality?”

Your brows furrow. “W—what?”

“The story. I’m asking if you’ve ever done that before.”

You swallow nervously. “I—no. I haven’t.”

His cock hardens, a feeling of satisfaction filling him at your pleasing answer.

He takes your breasts in each of his hands then, gently kneading them.

You swing around, a tear slipping down your cheek. “You can’t—”

He wraps a hand firmly around your throat, cutting your protests short.

“Oh, honey,” he says, stepping closer, his erection pressing against your upset stomach. “I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

He grins. “And I think you’re going to like it.”

He leans down, crushing his lips to yours, forcing your mouth open and he plunges his tongue inside, making you gag on it.

He slips his hands beneath your thighs, lifting you onto the kitchen counter, gripping the waistband of your shorts, as well as your panties, and he pulls them both down your legs in one fell swoop, ignoring your mewls and squeals of protest.

You shove against his chest, panicking, ready to begin screaming, until he pulls back—his eyes going bright red, tightening his hold around your throat. “Hold the fuck still or I’ll kill you right here and now, sweetheart.”

You stare at him for only a moment before nodding slightly.

He releases his hold around your neck and you gingerly wrap your own hand around it.

And then he kneels, gripping your hips, grinning up at you, even winking and then he shoves his face between your thighs, throwing your calves over his shoulders.

You sit there in complete shock for only a moment before he begins lapping at you with his tongue, spreading your labia with his fingers, flicking his speared tip against your clit and then your body jerks and you draw in a ragged breath, slamming your head back against the cabinet behind you.

He smirks between your legs, doing it again, and you moan quietly.

You’re supposed to be fighting back—should be jumping off this counter and running out the door and screaming rape.

But you can’t. Not unless you want to die.

So this is your only choice. To sit on this counter and wait for him to finish. But he won’t be finished until you are, will he?

And the fact he’s recreating what was in your story—the fact that he’s on his knees giving you oral…oh dear God this situation is a nightmare.

Or so you think, until he begins sucking on your clit and your eyes go wide and your breaths become shallow.

You tangle your fingers in his hair then, unable to help yourself as you pull him closer and he moans into your slick, hot core.

He’s utterly satisfied with the fact you’re dripping for him, desperate for more. For him.

He flicks his tongue, spells his goddamn name—his real name—marking you as his. Even if you don’t fucking know it yet…you will be. His. You belong to him. So help him God if you even think about talking to another man at your little school after this he’ll laser him in half while you watch.

“Oh God,” you whisper and he knows you’re close when your heartrate begins to climb impossibly higher—fluttering like a hummingbird—fingers tightening in his blond strands.

He kisses your cunt, flicks his tongue, fucks you with it—spells the word ‘mine’, and it’s as he finishes his ‘e’ that you begin to cry, your hips squirming beneath his grip as you orgasm right against his mouth, his tongue lodged firmly between your pulsating walls.

And then he stands—eyes trailing along your flushed cheeks and neck and chest, your eyes hooded, limbs relaxed, and your legs still spread wide—the counter, your thighs, and his face are all slick from your arousal.

He crushes his lips back to yours one last time, letting you taste your own sweet American honey before he pulls away, lips hovering over yours as he smirks.

“Now we’re even,” he mutters.

He heads back toward the balcony.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he throws over his shoulder before launching into the sky, leaving you sitting there half-naked and ashamed of yourself, tears gathering in your eyes as you begin to sob.