#lurker the beloved | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inkyquince · 2 years

Text

SNAKE EYES Remy x PC x Wren

This was a commission from our beloved Lurker anon! Features Monster AU!Remy and Wren, as a Naga and Trickster respectively. AFAB Reader with GN pronouns used.

content warning. blood play, kidnapping, noncon turned dubcon but the reader is having a lot of fun. Biting, oviposition, Wren is a complete dick but we love him for it. 10K words.

The sun beat down on the fields, making sweat bead on your neck and brow, the moisture dripping down and hitting the dry soil as you worked on pulling the weeds up. Your shirt stuck to your back unpleasantly and you could hear the distant sounds of the cattle, lazing about or gathered by the troughs to dunk their snouts into the water. You felt gross, dust coating your skin and the humidity of the day making everything feel swampy, as if you were on the Moors.

Just the thought of the vast expanse had you eyeing the sky, looking for the huge circling bird that had snatched you up before. Once, just the thought of seeing those huge beating wings would have struck fear into your heart, but after finding out it was somewhat harmless, lonely, you began to appreciate him. At least he was open about being what he was.

A whistle sounded and you glanced at the cottage you shared with Alex in the distance. A figure, hazy by the sweltering heat, was waving for you to come over. Your gait was slow, sore, and when you arrived at the house, Alex had already retreated back inside, into the nice cool air brought on by the cold cloths laid over the rickety fans he brought down.

“Took you long enough.” Alex said, spitting out water from where he was dunking his head in the sink, cold water running to wet his hair. He looked like one of those wet dogs that had just found the joys of a running hosepipe.

“Yeah, yeah.” You swung open the fridge to grab a cold drink, pressing the can against the back of your neck before switching it to your forehead. “What did you want?”

“What, can’t even hang out with my buddy?” Alex lifted his head from the sink, water streaming from the strands of his hair, eyes twinkling behind the darkened strands.

Alex certainly was not your first choice in employment, long hours with dismal pay, but he was the safest out of everyone else. You were sure he didn’t know exactly how safe he was in comparison.

“Just a warning, I gotta be in town overnight.” Alex continued on at your small smile, pushing his messy, wet hair back.

“What, tonight?”

“Yeah, family thing. Probably best if you also head back with me, y’know?” Alex said, his tone forced to be light and airy.

“… Why?” You stared at him.

“I…” He struggled to find his words before sighing, expression strangely stricken for the upbeat farmer. “I just think… It might not be safe, staying here all alone. Y’know? What if Remy attacks and I’m not here?”

“What if he attacks and no one is here? Think of the damage to the farm!”

“Yeah, but if you’re here all alone, you could get hurt.” Alex said firmly, small blush dusting his tanned cheeks.

You felt a bit stunned, the thought that he was more worried about you getting injured over the farm, his family legacy, being ruined and needing to be fixed up all over again. You two awkwardly let the sentence hang before you shrug.

“I don’t really want to head back to the orphanage. I’d prefer to stay here, Alex. I’ll be fine, I mean it.”

The farmer scrunched his nose and gave you a long, lingering look before sighing and shrugging as well.

“Can’t force you out. Just don’t… Don’t do anything stupid. Head to town if it gets dangerous out there.” His face filled with dismay as you didn’t respond, your stance of setting a single foot back there clear.

You hummed a vague answer and took the chance for a break inside the house, Alex heading upstairs to pack his overnight bag. You leaned against the counter, basking in the cool air. No, Alex would never understand your reluctance to return to town. He only thought it was because of the orphanage, your caretaker being a cold-blooded bastard, the wandering hands and looks, but it stopped being just that a long time ago. You had hoped he also saw what you did, but the last time you two met his adversary, it was clear he didn’t.

Glancing out the window, at the sun beaten fields, you sighed and decided to call it a day. You and Alex normally worked till dusk, sharing a meal before bed, but the heat had drained you fully. You were sweaty, dirty and you could enjoy the evening just for yourself. You had nothing against Alex, but sometimes, you needed proper privacy, which was hard, given the shared shower, the shared work and living space. Hell, the two of you shared a wall. Alex probably wanted to share far more, but you were unsure. Just one wrong comment, one confession about what fuelled the nightmares that scared you awake, and he’d give you that same look the others had. Pity, worry, maybe a bit nervous about your mental state.

No, this was better. Distance. Even if it hurts.

You had managed to take a quick shower, just in time to watch Alex head with his bag towards an idling car. You could make out his mother, waving fondly at you and you returned the gesture with a weak smile. Alex shouted a farewell as he got in and you watched the car pull out, kicking up dust clouds as it pulled out into the main road back to town.

You hoped they stayed safe. With that, you headed back inside, still wiping off the water from the shower, clothes sticking to you again but now in a refreshing way.

As you poked around for food to make, scrunching your nose at an ancient chocolate egg right at the back of the cupboard, your thoughts lingered on the town. Dread prickled the inside of your stomach. The farm felt different without Alex. Like how the hospital felt different at night. Or the entire town. The safety of his warmness was gone, and everything felt just a bit off without him. It was strange. You didn’t used to depend on him like this. The farm always felt safe, spending hours outside working, even feeling safe enough to work during the night sometimes. You were able to wander, without making sure to keep him in your peripherals, without asking him sheepishly to keep a whistle on him to alert you, which just turned into him using it to get your attention for anything.

Remembering the day your happy little bubble burst still made you shiver, and you struggled to put it out of your thoughts. It crept in the back of your mind, lurking.

You didn’t see him first. You heard him.

Not his horse. Him.

The fellow farmer made his way towards you and Alex, hat pulled low over his face to protect himself from sunburn, his kerchief pulled up over his nose. The horse spooked you, not as much as the man himself, but still. There was something dead eyed about it, like it had gotten used to a daily hell.

You didn’t know what the sound coming from him was. To this day, you were unsure. It was… Like if two pieces of leather gliding against each other. But more metallic. Something smoother. Whatever it was, it made the hair on your arms stand up as he dismounted, patting the horse briefly before turning to the two of you. Cold eyes immediately landed on you before dragging to Alex.

The farmhand was on edge, but not for the same reason you were. You had so hoped he was able to see what you could, but apparently not. You could tell from the way he raved and ranted about Remy later that night, a beer bottle threatening to spill as he gestured with it. Called him an asshole who took whatever he wanted, that underhanded prick. Which was true, but as you sat there, your stomach sank, knowing Remy was worse than Alex could ever comprehend and worst of all, you would never be able to tell him.

Bailey was the same. Telling Robin he was a monster had her agreeing, but when you insisted on it, she worriedly asked if you needed a lie down. Same with Briar. Same with Harper. Same with Leighton. No one you tried to tell took you seriously. They would laugh and agree but if you dared to go any further, they’d eye you with a newfound nervousness. The kind of look that landed you in Harper’s little playpen for a while, the doctor staring at you with hunger, murmuring about your clever little eyes. The hospital had made everything warp in your head, which was worse. You could always count on yourself, but on certain days in the chilly room, with the bare mattress uncomfortable at your back, you struggled to recall months at a time, even though your tally by your head proved that you were only in there for two weeks at that point. But could you even trust that now? It felt as if everytime you blinked, only seconds had gone by, but according to the changing scenery outside your window, it was months. Finding new marks on your body, whips lashes across your thighs, bruises dotted all over your throat, weird puncture wounds, you finally broke in that hospital.

And Harper “fixed you”. You still had months missing and felt strangely floaty, but you were released after a few more weeks. You bade him farewell with a smile but when the van dropped you off in front of the orphanage, you simply turned left, down the street and walked. You walked and walked until you hit the main road, dropping your “medication” pill by pill as you went.

So, weeks later, you still refused to take a step closer to the town, happily helping Alex in the farmlands. Safe from the monsters that looked at you hungrily, strange eyes blinking wrong and teeth glinting in the light. All for naught now. You had a home finally, and Remy threatened the safety of it. So, as you stared at your dinner you made, picking at it, you resolved to go back over there, despite the last time you did, you swore to never step foot on the estate again.

The estate had scared you. Playing card games with Wren did nothing to stop the feeling that eyes were on you, the walls, the windows, even the cards felt like they were watching your every move, ready for you to fail. The fires did deter the sabotage attempts for a few days but unless you did something extreme, this hellish ouroboros situation would continue. Unless…

Unless the fire spread to the actual estate, not just the fields. Remy’s hideout would be gone and he’d need to leave, or rebuild.

Sweat prickled at your palms and you felt sick, a chill settling over you. Maybe Doctor Harper was right, and you had finally gone crazy. Seriously considering arson? Just because a man made you uneasy?

You stood, feeling queasy. Tucking the dinner back into the fridge, you stood and went upstairs, each creak of the wood making the hair on your arms stand up. The paranoia was now so great, you felt as if the panelling of the walls had warped as you ascended, the wood patterns forming into insidious eyes, staring at your every move.

“Pull yourself together, idiot.” You muttered to yourself, palms itching and sweating despite your whispers to yourself.

Yes, do.

You paused on the landing, carpet struggling to muffle the creak of the wood. The whisper had come and gone, tickling the shell of your ear. You knew the windows could never close all the way, because of how old and rickety they were, so the whistling of the wind never quietened, not once, but… This wasn’t that. It was soft, warm, as if teasing you.

“Alex? Did you forget something?” You shakily called out, knowing it was futile.

There was no sheepish shout back, Alex tripping over himself in embarrassment to grab something he forgot, his ears blushing red. Just the quiet whistling of the wind against the windows, the cattle outside, and your own thudding heart.

A few months earlier, you would have blamed the medication, even deluded yourself into believing it was the wind, or just a stray thought of your own. But not now. All that remained of your self doubt had been long since crushed into the tarmac of the road, chalky residue no one would ever look twice at.

… Maybe setting fire to the estate was a solid idea after all.

Feeling the sanest you have in a long while, you continued into your room, tugging on the clothes you reserved for the nights Remy’s men would prowl the tree line, the smell of smoke never leaving the fabric now matter how many times you washed them. A creeping, gleeful mania curled in your stomach, the adrenaline surpassing your initial doubt.

The gasoline was easy to find. Alex used to burn the foliage from when the two of you were clearing the fields, it was just easier to get rid of it that way. The two containers were still about half way filled, the liquid making a low bassy noise as it swished inside.

The hike to the estate wasn’t pretty. Dragging the two containers the distance was a sticky job, the weight having made your fingers go numb by the time you got halfway. Sweat crept down your nape, making your dark clothes stick to your skin. Walking in the dark meant you stumbled a lot, twisting your ankle or nearly falling off the overgrown path sometimes. You had stuck your lighter in your pocket and you were tempted to take it out just to light your way, but you neither wanted to stick a flaming lighter between your teeth to light your way, probably setting your nose on fire, or have an open flame near the two canisters, paranoia whispering that the dripping you could hear was from the plastic eroding. It meant that not only your shoes were stained with the liquid, but the trail might light up the entire path back to the farm. You had to keep shaking the thought off, needing to just get to the estate before dealing with anything else.

Before too long, the estate loomed ahead, with a few lights still on, with lanterns bobbing in the distance around the enclosed paddock.You stopped walking as you reached the crest of the hill just beside the estate and you took a moment to survey the manor. A shiver ran up your spine at the sight of it. The sight of the big house always made you feel slightly nauseous. Or maybe it was your empathy for the people brainwashed into their current predicament, the taste of grass tinging your tongue as you watched them be herded back into the barn.

Setting the two canisters down on the damp dirt, you patted your pockets for the lighter. Empty. You froze up, hands shaking against your filthy jeans before desperately turning out your pockets, wildly checking all pockets, even the nonfunctional ones sewed shut.

“Shit.” You whispered, the beads of sweat trailing against your temples now ice cold against your skin.

You dropped to your knees, patting the ground around you, hoping it only recently fell out of your pocket, desperately wishing to feel the metal casing among the rotting leaves and dead grass. Blinded by panic, your movements grew wilder, raking your fingers through the dirt, whispering profanities to yourself.

Suddenly, while grasping at the dirt, you reached too far and smacked the canister with the back of your hand, making it wobble precariously on the mound of dirt.

“Shit, no!”

You lunged forward, hoping to grab it before it upended, but in your panic, you leaned too far, losing your balance, the muck shifting. Both you and the container toppled, the dirt giving away and sending you both skidding down the hill. The fall was steep and the ground too wet to use your palms to slow your descent. Twigs and loose branches of the shrubs and trees scratched your face, loose pebbles scratching your fingers as you scrabbled at them. Luckily, despite all the forest debris, the soft ground meant you didn’t break anything when you finally rolled to a stop at the bottom. The canister wasn’t so lucky, leaking out from where it had impacted a rock, the heady fumes gathering in the air quickly.

You spat out whatever dirt got into your mouth and shakily glanced back up, where the other container still stood, unbothered by the tumble that its two companions just took. With a grumble you patted your legs and arms, making sure the worst injury you had were just bruises and a few scrapes. Your spine felt tender, with your fingers scruffed and cut up. You could feel something oozing down your temple, no longer ice cold sweat, but something hot and sticky. Shakily you raised your hand to touch the liquid-

“Nuh uh.”

A voice startled you and you jerked to look over your shoulder only for a black baton swinging down on you to be the last thing you saw before it knocked you unconscious.

—

Your mouth tasted like cotton balls was your first thought. Your tongue felt dry, and wearily rubbing your lips together did nothing to make the taste dissipate.

You always felt… Cold.

Your eyes shot open, the familiar feeling of the chilling wind against your bare body reminiscent of waking up at the farm house with your bedsheets on the floor, nights at the brothel, even the asylum. You scrambled upright, yanking your legs up to cover your bare torso but metal cuffs bit into your feet.

Disconcerted, you sat up, blinking at the restraints around your ankles, connected to a metal loop cemented into the floor. You yanked at the chain weakly before giving up when it reopened the deeper scratches on your fingers. Looking around, you were… In a pen… A cattle pen…

“Fuck.” You whispered.

A loud smack against your pen walls made you freeze up, the farmhand giving you an ugly look at your swearing as she patrolled. She walked past after a moment, revealing the rest of the barn to you, to the people moseying about on their hands and knees, just as naked as you. Dread pooled in your stomach as you watched them, doe eyed and mooing at each other softly, some napping as others blinked at the patrolling farmhands, cocks and tits leaking milk as they pressed themselves against the wood.

Trying to get their attention did nothing, just had them blink and smile at you. Talking was also out. When you weren’t being shouted at for it by the farmhands, with the butts of their prongs smacked against your enclosure door, you only either got dumb or nervous looks. You eventually gave up and tried to get comfortable, despite the clunky restraints around your ankles making it hard to move.

Hours later, as dawn slowly crept into the barn, farmhands began letting the cattle out, urging them along by nudging them with their dirty boots if they were too drowsy to move. Fear built as they got closer and closer to you. This is how it starts. Being forced into the paddock, only being able to eat grass, sprouting a tail and cow ears and being.. .Being used. You tried to scramble away as they paused at your door, but couldn’t move an inch. The farmhand leered at your naked body but didn’t come in to let you out with the rest of the cattle, instead moving on. You weren’t… Going to…

You were left alone in the barn as everyone else was cleared out. The silence was intolerable, making you wish for the moos and sighs back instead of the monotonous nothing.

No one came back in the barn, even to check on you. The cows were herded in and out, but you were left alone for days. Farmhands would spray you with a hosepipe to make sure you never got too filthy, refreshing your bucket of oats they dumped into your pen on the first night. You almost wished that they were going to turn you, just to not have to keep staring at these four walls. Was this how they made the cattle so obedient? Isolate them until they begged to go outside, crawl around and eat grass? As you struggled chewing on the oats, the food clumping together in your mouth, you wondered if Alex was back yet. Was he worried? Or did he think you had left him of your own accord? Or did something make him forget you. Alex wouldn’t abandon you, would he?

With that thought churning just as unpleasantly as the oats in your belly, you lay down to sleep for another night. You struggled to fall any deeper into unconsciousness than a light doze, your eyes opening for a few seconds during the night but not waking up entirely. Your half asleep brain saw strange people gathering, looking at the cows in their pens. Whispering softly so as not to wake anyone. As you drifted back under, one of the farm hands, one you never saw before leaned against the walls of your enclosure, brilliant white teeth glinting in the low lamp light as low sounds of a tussle erupted behind him.

The sun wasn’t what woke you this morning. Nor was it the birds usual singing, now silent. It was the heartbroken moos, the pained noises coming from the pens surrounding you. That and the overwhelming smell of copper, blanketing the entire barn in its stench.

It was hard to see, even using your arms to drag yourself forward on your belly to look out from the gaps in your gate. Farmhands paced and smacked rowdier members of the cattle but didn’t let anyone out. The noises quietened eventually, just choked noises of distress piquing up every now and then. Once it was all quiet, the others, as per, were let out into the fields. That’s when you could see.

The pen a little way down from your on the opposite side, usually home to a particularly beefy person, was empty. Puddles of dried blood pooled on the floor leading out, sticking dirt and straw together, footprints stamped into the muck. Your stomach flipped unpleasantly and you rolled onto your back, staring at the roof. Squeezing your eyes shut did nothing, the darkness of your eyelids projecting the scene more vibrantly than you could bear. Even as the farmhands returned, muttering and throwing pails of water to dissolve the dried mess, the realisation that the bloodied sight had brought on couldn’t be as easily washed away, trickling into the sewer grate built into the cement of the floor.

How could you have been so stupid. These cows weren’t fed and bred for milk. They were food.

And an insistent part of you wouldn’t stay quiet, nagging at you that what they were feeding was not the people of the town.

“Why the frown, sunshine?” A chuckle jerked you out of your horrified trance, loosening the grip your thoughts had on you.

You opened your eyes and blinked at the person leaning over the walls of your enclosure. Wren… Wren?

“Wren!” You sat upright, suddenly aware of your nudity, caring for the first time in days.

“Hey, sweet thing.” The smuggler rolled a cigarette between his fingers, twinkling eyes never leaving your flushed face. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Your initial elation at the sight of him faded just as quickly as it came and your smile dropped.

��Wren, please, help get me out, they’re going to kill me!” Your voice came out high and panicky and you quickly glanced around him, only for the cleaning farmhands to be gone altogether.

He blinked at you, a strange amused smile pulling at his lips. Tucking the cigarette into the curve of his bottom lip, he pulled out a lighter from his pocket, flicked it a few times before lighting it. The battered casing looked… Familiar-

“I would if I could.” Wren shrugged, snapping the lighter back shut and exhaling smoke slowly. “But doll, my employer ain’t so nuts about your lil arson antics.”

You gaped at him before gritting your teeth and jutting your chin out in defiance.

“Which ones? I feel like that bastard would love to know about the ones you helped with.” You said angrily.

The smuggler just looked at you, eyes twinkling with mirth, turning over the lighter with his fingers steadily.

“Got me there, I guess.” He finally shrugged, straightening up. “Tell you what… We play a round, I win, you stay, you win, I get you out of the barn.”

“Wren!” You struggled not to let his name escape in a panicked shout. “This is my life on the line!”

“So you don’t wanna play? Fine by me. Gonna miss ya, sweetheart.” Wren exhaled and turned away.

“Wait! Okay, okay! Fine, get the stupid cards out.”

The smuggler grinned around his cigarette before turning back towards you, gleefully hopping over the gate into your pen. Sinking down onto the floor with his legs crossed, he routed around in his pockets, tossing out random sweets, the lighter, your underwear from the last time you played Blackjack with him, a weird broken off fang before yanking out a dirty drawstring pouch. Wren upturned it and shook, four dice clattering out and onto the floor. You had never seen him play with these before. They looked to be made out of wood but you couldn’t be sure.

“No cards this time.” Wren tossed the pouch over his shoulder without a care, instead scooping the dice into his palm. “We’re gonna play one round of dice. Less hassle, y’know?”

“Wait, no, I don’t know how to play!”

“Then just roll the dice.” Wren set two of them down in front of you and rubbed his own against his shirt.

You didn’t pick them up, shifting nervously. Dread pricked your skin, the downy hair of your arms standing straight up in the chilled air of the barn. You always regarded Wren as someone who would be on your side, having helped you numerous times before, as long as you made it fun. So you shouldn’t be as surprised as you are now really. But Wren never actually left you in certain danger like he was willing to do right now. Stupid of you to expect anything different, you guessed.

“What, don’t trust me?” Wren grinned, as if able to read your emotions easily. “I like you, darlin’. Believe me, I’ll tell ya if you win.”

His grin and your gut objected to that sentiment. Nevertheless, you picked up the dice.

Wren winked at you before rolling the pair in cupped in his palm, the quiet clicking filling the barn, louder than they ever should be. The smuggler finally dropped them straight from his palm, letting them bounce on the ground. Their little faces stared up at you. A seven and a nine. That was… A good score, presumably?

He nodded to himself, before nudging you with his boot.

“Shake that money maker.”

You stared at him.

“Your hand, sweetheart. Word gets around, y’know.” Wren grinned.

“Shut up.” You muttered and weakly rolled the dice in your palm, the sound far more subdued that it had been for him. Sweat gathered in your palm, too aware that your life hung in the balance.

You quickly turned over your hand to let them fall, just like Wren did. The damp of your palm made one stick to your skin a moment longer before gravity freed it anyway. They hit the ground like a rock.

Two ones. Snake eyes.

You didn’t know much about dice, but you never heard that phrase used in a positive light. The two black dots stared at you and you shut your eyes, stomach twisting. Wren gave a low whistle that ended with a soft laugh.

“Time to collect your earnings, I guess.”

“Huh?” You opened your eyes, staring at him.

“Ya won.” Wren got to his feet, tucking his little treasures back into his pockets, patting at them before turning his gaze back to you. “So, let’s scoot.”

“What?” You didn’t dare believe him.

“Me. You. Leaving. Maybe getting a milkshake.”

Still stunned, you didn’t move as the smuggler leaned over the gate and pawed at something on the opposite side of your pen walls before pulling back to reveal a large ring of keys. The bastards had kept your salvation on the other side of your enclosure! Stupidly close if you hadn’t been chained down by your feet. Wren deftly unlocked the cuffs around your ankles and grasped your forearms, pulling you up onto your feet.

You sway slightly, unused to standing up after so many days being forced to sit on the floor. As you get your balance again, the pins and needles slowly fading, Wren shrugged off his coat and draped it over your shoulders, the bottom ending around your thighs. You tugged it closer around you and you shot him a grateful smile.

“Time to scoot.” Wren returned the gesture, slipping his gloved hand into yours and opening the gate with one of the keys.

He led you through the barn, gingerly stepping over the watered down blood stains and through the large doors leading out. You hadn’t realised how much time had passed from when the cattle was first let out, a gentle twilight setting over the estate. Farmhands were too focused on the cows milling about to give you and Wren any attention, as the two of you snuck away, his hand never leaving yours.

You froze up as he neared the manor, instead of heading out through the trees surrounding the property. Wren glanced back at you, just a few steps away from the double doors leading in.

“Why-”

“Sweetheart, they’re gonna comb the area when they realise you’re missing. Which imbecile would escape through the house, huh?” Wren tugged on your hand before you finally trotted after him again, the window blowing the coat up around your thighs.

The inside of the manor wasn’t any warmer than the outside. The ceiling lights were strange, nearly baking you with heat as you passed underneath them, with everywhere else tinged with cold. Wren didn’t seem to notice the change of temperature everytime you passed one, heading from the backdoors, through a coat room, down a hallway before arriving at what must be the ostentatious front doors, looming tall above the two of you.

“Wren… I… I cannot thank you enough.” You squeezed his hand, your other reaching out to rest on the frigid metal handles.

“Hey…” Wren’s voice was quiet, strangely sincere. “You didn’t think I would leave you back there, did you?”

Your cheeks flushed and you stared at the floor, guilt churning in your chest.

“Look at me, baby.” His finger tilted your chin up, up until your eyes met his, warm brown and…

You couldn’t move.

Not even a flick of your finger. Frozen in place as Wren gazed directly into your eyes.

“I wasn’t gonna leave ya out there.” His lips curved into a grin, sharper than the ones you expected from him. “Not when it's comfier inside.”

… Oh.

Wren was one of them.

“Now.” The smuggler sighed, letting go of your chin and dropping his hands to your waist. “It’s been too long since you gave me some lovin’, huh?”

His eyes swirled like a kaleidoscope as he leaned in, pressing his lips to your ear.

“Been dyin’ to fuck you on Mister Remy’s bed for ages.”

Wren guided your frozen hand to his crotch, erection tented against his trousers.

“Feel that? So cruel to leave me with blue balls for so long.”

Using the hand he was still holding, he began to guide you towards the staircase, humming as the lamps began to sway by themselves. You stumbled over the carpeted stairs, feeling like a puppet being yanked about by a puppeteer as you both headed to the landing. Wren kept looking over his shoulder at you, shooting you a greedy smirk as he led you along, only stopping at an ornate door.

“Don’t mind the mess. He’s pissy.” He shrugged before turning the handle.

Wren let the door slowly shiver open, revealing a nearly pitch black room. Warmth hit you all at once, relaxing your shoulders as the smuggler glanced around before tugging you inside. You almost tripped over something heavy at your foot, scrambling to get your footing. He just snickered and yanked you deeper in. You hadn’t been able to see, but there was something taking up the entirety of the flooring. Cool, and slippery. Your lack of balance wasn’t aided by Wren easily climbing over the obstacles, pulling you towards the king sized bed with rumpled sheets. Your feet kept slipping over the cold, dry surfaces.

Finally you were pushed onto the bed, bouncing a bit. You felt something crinkle underneath you, cracking like crinkled paper.

“Whoopsie. He didn’t clean up after himself.” Wren scrunched his nose before rolling you on your side, yanking the material out from under you before letting you rest back on your back.

Your eyes flicked to…

He…

Wren was holding up a huge piece of shedded snake skin. Opaque, almost parchment like in appearance, and double your width. Your breath quickened in panic. You didn’t know what any of the people in town actually were, just that they were… Wrong. But you… Never expected… Something like… Like…

“This,” Wren sighed. “This is why I told him not to fire the maids.”

He tossed the limp skin to the side, wiping his broad hands on his thighs as if to get rid of the feeling. His smile returned as he gazed down at you, drifting a finger over your cheek before dropping to the coat you still had on.

“As cute as you are in my stuff… I’ve missed those tits.” Wren gripped the shoulders of the garment and yanked it straight off, revealing your bare body to the room. “Anyway, Remy really didn’t believe me when I said you had the cutest cunt I’d ever seen.”

You were fighting to get feeling back in your body as panic gripped your heart. Nothing was making sense, not the snake skin, not the way he was talking, both about Remy, nor about when he claimed to have seen you entirely naked. You never slept with him, you knew that, only once did you hand over your underwear during a game, but hid your cunt with your shirt until you won. Wren patted your cheek again, blind to your turmoil. before unzipping his trousers and fishing his erect cock out of his scuffed jeans, the tip already leaking thickly. Precum droplets hit your bare thighs as he fiddled with his shirt, tossing the fabric to the side to reveal his bare chest. You exhaled shakily, catching Wren’s attention, cock bobbing with his movements. His eyes dragged over your body appreciatively before humming softly.

“Sorry, darling, forgot.” He tilted his head and snapped his fingers. “I know you’re a fantastic fuck and I really ain’t in the mood to ruin you on my cock while you lie there like a mannequin.”

You could move again! You swung your leg upwards to kick Wren in the cock and make your escape when…

Your leg swung up, over his hips, pulling him closer.

“Eager.” You were nose to nose with the smuggler, his cool breath tickling your skin.

His cock throbbed against your bare cunt, still dribbling pre-cum, almost at an inhuman rate.

You wanted to hit him, smack him, scream at him for doing this to you, but your movements weren’t your own. You wound your arms around his neck, whining softly as he idly rutted against your lips, leaning down to press his lips against yours with a sigh.

His cockhead rutting against your clit had you rocking against him, anger draining far too soon, only to be replaced with the hazy lust you knew too well from losing blackjack nights and once in a blue moon at the brothel.

Despite the two of you just sloppily grinding against each other, you felt your orgasm building far, far too soon. Whatever Wren had done to you had your brain fuzzy, your body overly sensitive to his touches.

“God, missed this hole.” Wren broke away to admire your cunt, running his thumb over your clit before spitting on your opening.

You just bucked your hips and sighed happily, your fingers gripping his belt loops to drag him in closer again. The smuggler slowly pressed into you, his cockhead making more than enough lube to slip into you with ease. You arched your back, feeling his erection throb inside of you, tightening your legs around his hips.

“Fuck.” Wren sighed as he bottomed out inside of you, cockhead dragging against your walls.

Instead of laying back on top of you, caging you between his arms, he gripped your hips as he fell back into a seated position, dragging you up onto his lap.

“I always liked you best like this, all naked on my lap.”

Your arms tightened around his neck as his cock nudged deeper inside you than before, pleasure thrumming through your body. Sloppily rocking on his dick, your eyes struggled to focus on any one thing in the room. All that existed was Wren’s soft hair trapped under your arms, his hungrily thrusts upwards, into you, his bare skin against yours as his chest hair lightly tickled you.

You would have been utterly lost in the pleasure if something moving out the corner of your eye grabbed your attention. Moan cut off, you looked to your right, eyes adjusting to the dark.

The strange mound covering the floor shifted as you fought to figure out what the shadows in the room really were. Wren continued to moan as he enjoyed your cunt, fingers digging into your ass, his magic struggling to pull you back into the blanket of pleasure he had you in.

“W-Wren.” You gasped out, and the mound shifted again.

… Fuck. The strange heap wasn’t.. It…

A snake tail. Long, thick, and winding through the entirety of the room, you had climbed over it with Wren to get to the bed. The bed with… The shedded snake skin.

“Wren!” You whimpered and the smuggler paused in his thrusts, settling into just rocking you on his cock.

“Don’t be so scared, buttercup. He likes to watch.” Wren sucked a love mark into your shoulder with a sigh.

Your heart thudded in your chest as your eyes followed the glossy black and green iridescent scales, growing thicker and thicker until they stopped at someone’s hips. Tanned with a prominent v-line. A taut stomach, a broad chest, strong shoulders…

Remy gazed at you from where he relaxed in his own coils. A small smirk played on his lips as he watched your eyes widen in horror and try to pull away from Wren’s embrace. The smuggler gently shushed your noises of terror as you tried to scramble away to no avail, his strong arms refusing to let go of you.

“Skittish little thing.” Remy finally spoke, cold eyes never leaving yours. “You were so fearless the last time you were here.”

He… He knew you were the one who set the fires? How-

“He ain’t talkin’ about that, sweetheart.” Wren murmured against your ear. “Remy talking about when the good doctor handed you over. Thought your therapy would improve if you had nothing on the mind but grass and cock. To be fair, it looked like it worked.”

Panic forced all the breath from your lungs as you became utterly light headed.

Therapy… Harper.. Handed over..? Your missing memories, were you here? The whip marks, the taste of grass on your tongue that you thought was empathy? How-

Wren started up his brutal pace again, bouncing you on his cock with gusto. Remy shifted in his coils, finally coming closer, the entire room fluctuating all at once as his coils tightened with his movements.

“God, you were cute.” Wren sighed, relaxing from his upright position, instead laying on his back, grabbing at your shins to make sure to keep you rocking on his leaking cock, pre-cum dribbling out of you and over his stomach. “You loved it when I grabbed your horns and held you down to fuck you. Those cute brain dead moo’s, god, Remy was so pissed he couldn’t fuck you, weren’t you?”

Remy finally was close enough to the bed, gripping the sheets by Wren’s head as his eyes trained on your cunt greedily swallowing his cock with every thrust. He just scowled at his mate’s teasing and leaned over, brushing his sharpened nails over your pubic area.

“Believe me,” Remy murmured, frigid eyes meeting yours once more. “I'd have ruined you worse than Wren ever could.”

Wren chuckled and raised his head to press a kiss to Remy’s jaw. You helplessly scrabbled at the smuggler’s stomach as your pussy was ruthlessly fucked, fear and pleasure warping togther and making you dizzy.

“Restraint, babe.” Wren sighed, one of his hands drifted up to squeeze your breast. “You wouldn’t have let them waddle back like that. Not with all those eggs you’ve been saving for them.”

You froze up, nails digging into the blond’s stomach in horror, as he arched his back and swore.

“Fuck, they got tighter. Like that thought, sweetheart? Being our lil breeding bitch? You get to carry his eggs, babe, ain’t that nice?” Wren panted as Remy stared at the ring of cream around the base of his partner’s cock.

“N-no, please, d-don’t, I can’t-.” You were cut off by Remy’s low hiss before he lunged at you, pinning your shoulders down against the bed, sharp fangs inches from your vulnerable throat.

Before you could try to pull away from him, his dripping fangs bit into your throat, hot tongue pressed against the sensitive skin. Wren chuckled as he sat up, still hard cock dragging out from your poor sensitive, puffy cunt. Your initial terror ebbed away as you felt something cold spread through your veins, Remy’s venom rushing into your body.

Your fear faded completely and the naga released his grip on you, fangs sliding out from your punctured skin, blood dotting his lips. The throb between your legs worsened dramatically, your hips bucking instinctively. Your skin felt too sensitive for the humid air of the room, your cunt too empty, your brain too filled with cotton to function.

“Please…” You whimpered. “Please… It hurts.”

You began to paw at your pussy, raising your hips for anyone, anything to fill you up, to rip you with a fat cock. Wren’s eyes fixed upon your hole, leaking slick and precum and he reached out to finger you before Remy smacked his hand away, still scowling at you.

“So, now you need something in your stupid cunt? When you so rudely refused my eggs, my offspring, my protection?”

“I’m sorry.” You began to cry, bucking your hips weakly. Honestly, he was right. You felt so empty, so horribly empty, and you knew his clutch would give you nothing but pleasure. You could already feel them, the way his eggs would shift inside you, like a phantom pregnancy already taking root inside of you. You’d be nothing but blissful if he let you carry his heirs.

“Are you? Really?” Remy sneered, settling onto his side next to you, face so close to yours, you could press a desperate kiss to his lips if you found the strength.

“Yes, yes, please, yes!” You pressed closer to him, fingers weakly pawing at his taut stomach.

“C’mon, Rems. They’re about to start drooling as hungrily as their cunt.” Wren sighed, sliding two fingers down over your swollen clit to your hole, making you jerk your hips and cry out.

Remy stared into your eyes before quickly flicking towards your pussy, Wren playing with your clit cruelly. Enraptured with the sight, his resolve began to weaken before he furrowed his brows, still deeply insulted. You had no choice.

“Please.” You whispered, hand drifting down, clumsily pawing at where his pubic area ended and his scales began, hoping against hope that you were touching him in a way he liked. “I want you to fill me up. ‘M gonna be so good for you, please, Remy.”

That did it. He stiffened up like a board before swearing under his breath, his coils tightening against each other.

Before he could say anything, Wren gripped your hips and yanked you down, to just below Remy’s hips, with the smuggler lying beside you, facing the shimmering scales.

“Watch this, darling.” He murmured into your ear and ran the same two fingers he used on your earlier down Remy’s stomach, over his hips, to directly below his pubic bone, where the scales began.

His slick covered fingers traced over the same area, where the scales warped weirdly as Remy flushed above the two of you, beginning to roll his hips. Wren put a bit more pressure on his final stroke, dipping his coarse fingers into a slit you only noticed now. The rancher groaned deeply, the end of his tail slithering onto the bed and wrapping around your wrist, tightening and loosening as Wren continued. You stroked the cool scales but kept your eyes trained on his slit relaxing, fleshy pink insides widening as the smuggler pushed another finger in.

“He fucking loves this.” Wren sighed, low and conspiratorial. “Loves his slit being touched, even when he fusses that he doesn’t.”

He used his other hand to grab your free wrist, resting it on his throbbing cock, still spilling out precum. Whatever Wren really was, he was no doubt a creature of pleasure, some sort of messy breeder.

“I even fucked his slit.” He grinned against your ear, rolling his hips against your grip. “I recommend tongue fucking it, but that’s for later.”

You stared as Wren finally withdrew his fingers, followed immediately by two, large fleshy cocks, springing free, dripping transparent liquid from their tips. You shivered against the smuggler, cunt immediately aching more as you gazed at them. As if feeling your hungry gaze, they dribbled more liquid out, twitching. You felt drool pool under your tongue, the venom making its way around your body causing everything but the thought of getting one, no, both of Remy’s fat cock into you. Even Wren went quiet, only to lean in and take the tip of one into his mouth, sighing as he tasted the dribbling slick. Pawing at Wren, you nudged him to the side to be able to reach over as well, running the tip of your tongue from the base to the tip of his dick. It throbbed under your tongue, tasting… Tasting of nothing you’ve ever had before, but it made your head fuzzier, heavier.

Remy groaned as the two of you tasted him, both mouthing as sucking at his sensitive cock, fighting back a primal urge to force you both all the way down, to the base. He felt something deeper inside of him shift, eggs beginning to tremble, trying to press into the tight, heady warmth sucking at him.

“Stop.” He finally snapped, stomach twisting at the thought of a single member of his clutch going to waste. For god’s sake, he waited all this time because he refused to send you back to the asylum while carrying his eggs, knowing that Harper loved his parasites and would be nothing but gleeful to have naga eggs. He wasn’t going to ruin breeding you full now because you and Wren slobbering over his dicks.

Speaking of, his little mates reluctantly pulled off his cocks, slick dripping from your lips. With a sigh, Wren sat up, scooting behind you to grip your waist.

“Now, darlin’, you’re gonna want my help with this bit.”

Remy dragged himself to the centre of the bed, cocks bobbing with the movement as Wren hauled you upright, making you straddle his waist, where his partner’s human skin met his scales. Wren tried to distract you by cooing at you, kissing down the nape of your neck as he lifted you, cunt barely brushing the tips of the naga’s dual dicks.

Your cunt throbbed with need, brain too fuzzy to realise you were going to be forced to take both of his cocks, too vacant to ever wonder if it would hurt. Wren glanced at Remy over your shoulder, and when the naga nodded, he began to slowly push you down as the other man gripped the base of both of his cocks so they would for sure press into you. You gave a shaky squeak as the tips pressed together into you, stretching you already, as if the prep Wren gave you earlier meant nothing.

Wren felt you stiffen up and tutted softly, wrapping his arms more securely around you so you couldn’t squirm out of his hold. His pressure around your body increased, his movement less like lightly trying to push you, more like wrestling you down onto two throbbing cocks. You gasped, twitching and arching your back as they pressed deeper into you, somehow expanding even more now that they were inside of your body. Remy, meanwhile, jerking his hips upwards to bully your cunt with his dicks, your hole struggling to take them.

With a final stuttering whine, you sank to the base, his scales cool against your poor puffy pussy. The naga immediately gave an experimental thrust into you, his cocks seemingly expanding far more now that they were into you. You squeak turned into a loud moan, his scales nudging your clit just right as your walls squeezed around him.

“Look at you.” Wren sighed, his hold around you loosening and his hands dropping to your lower stomach, swollen from how stuffed your cunt was. He gave an experimental squeeze and both you and Remy moaned, bucking against each other.

The smuggler chuckled and started moving your hips for you, you already too fucked out to move by yourself, weakly rocking and bouncing while feeling far too full to even think. Remy gripped the sheets as you rolled your hips, his tail tightening around your wrist until you could feel your bones creak under his strength. The naga eyed Wren as he pressed kisses to your temple, dragging his tongue over the shell of your ear, a greedy hand groping your chest. Something curled in his stomach and with an annoyed hiss, Remy gripped your wrists and yanked you away from the smuggler, making you lie against his chest, the predatory part of his brain taking over as he felt his eggs slowly shift along, making their way through his cocks. You shivered at the sudden shift in position, trying to arch your back as you felt the first load of eggs squeeze past your entrance, travelling into you as Remy began to push his clutch into you. With every egg pushing into you, your orgasm quickly had you shaking and whimpering. Something about the venom had fried your nerves, so when an egg squeezed into you, just one touch had you cumming over and over again and they way your body stiffened with every new one didn’t help.

Wren didn’t seem to mean that you were ripped from his arms, lips quirking in amusement. He seemed to understand Remy’s reptile brain needed its egg carrier to be marked by him, and only him. Instead, he shifted his weight, lying on his stomach to mouth at the base of his partner’s cock as eggs briefly expanded the flesh before pushing into you. Wren greedily lapped at your slick coating the twin cocks, indulging in the moans and whines coming from the both of you.

Meanwhile, your neck and throat were no safer from Remy’s fangs than it had been from Wren’s wandering nips. In fact, the naga couldn’t help but bite into you hungrily, losing himself as your blood dribbled from the puncture wounds only to be lapped at by his split tongue. You were soon completely filled with cum and eggs, shoulders and throat marked up completely.

Weak and overstimulated, you finally went completely limp against Remy’s chest.

Before you knew it, your eyes closed and you were lost in sleep, despite the pair of hands trailing over your body, lifting your abused cunt so that Remy’s cocks could slip out, thick globs of cum dribbling out of you.

When you awoke, it was not yet light outside. You… Guessed? It felt painful to open your eyes, eyes flicking to the curtains slightly parted with no sunshine streaming in.

Sitting up, you froze, feeling the eggs gently shift inside of you, snug and secure. You gave a whimper, torn between feeling horrified and aroused. To your side, Remy still slept, the pink tips of his cocks still peeking out from his slit, the human part of his body snug on the bed while his hellishly large and long snake tail hung over the bottom of the bed, still completely filling up the room. At least the tip of his tail had unwrapped from your wrist, now gently flicking against your stomach. You gently lifted it and placed it by Remy’s own hand.

Wren, of course, nowhere to be seen.

Now was your chance. Maybe get back to Alex, get back to town, get… Get… Get these things out of you…

The thought twisted your swollen stomach, a sour taste settling on your tongue. Still, you had to go, now or never.

Nervously but carefully, you slide off the bed, toes trying to find any gaps in between the naga’s coils to touch the floor and not disturb him. Impossible. He was huge, covering every inch. You bit your lip and exhaled slowly. Fuck it. You quickly squirmed across the huge mounds of cold, dry scales, trying not to slip under the muscle. It was weirdly fun, reminding you of a ball pit they had at your school when you were way younger, except… Well, this was… This.

You managed to wriggle over to the door, clutching your stomach protectively. You glanced at the bed, but Remy hadn’t moved, still snoozing with the end of his tail curled around his own pinkie now.

You fled through the door.

—-

It was honestly unfair how fast people always realised you were gone.

You were barely a few steps into the forest, huddled in a coat you snatched out of a closet by the entrance, when a whistle blew, shrill and loud enough to reach your ears easily. You weren’t naive. You knew without a doubt, that was for you.

You sped through the underbrush, your feet stinging from the cold and the stones, too afraid to be caught than to worry about any superficial scratches you would get. Near tears, you scanned around for a place to hide, feeling far too heavy from all the eggs and not wanting to hurt them. You slapped your own cheek in frustration at the thought and just as hot tears began to spill over your cheeks, you saw it. A little outcropping, hidden by jagged rocks and covered by a fallen tree. It wasn’t even a proper chance, but you hoped against hope that they would miss you if you hid there.

You scrabbled to squish into your hiding place, covering your stomach with your arms as you crouched, shivering. A few minutes passed and the sounds of dogs and shouts of the farmhands grew closer before growing far more distant. You waited a few more seconds before sighing in relief.

“Stupid thing, aren’t you?” An angry voice hissed above you.

Before you could even blink, you were yanked up by the coat’s hood, dangling helpless above the ground before being slammed against a tree, far off the ground. Your fingers scrabbled helpless against the tree bark before gripping the sturdy branches.

Remy stared at you with fury, fangs dripping venom as he bared them at you.

“You little bitch. Here we thought you had learned your place. Apparently not.”

You gave a squeak of terror as Remy crowded you against the tree, still bare chested. You felt a familiar feeling of his cocks squirming to crowd into your sore hole and you wildly kicked your legs to no avail, helplessly flailing at the air so far above the ground.

“You think I’d let my stupid breeding bitch get away? No, I’d rather stick a blue ribbon around your throat and let me men fuck you like the prized dog you are. You’re lucky you’re carrying my clutch.”

The blood rushing to your ears deafened you to Remy’s words as his cocks wound themselves back inside of you, filling you up once more. Your cunt ached, but as if it had missed the weight of him inside of you. You began to moan once more as the naga roughly pumped his hips, snarling and hissing as you began to cling to him once more.

“Is this what I must do? Keep you full of cock at all times of the day so at least your whore hole recognises who you belong to. Fuck you until you realise it too.” Remy bit down on your neck once more, this time not releasing your venom, knowing that you already craved what only he and Wren could give you now.

Remy toyed with the idea of letting you stumble back to your farm boy. Round with his offspring and unable to take his pathetic cock anymore. He knew from the moment he saw you again, standing there with the red head, you two must be intimate. How could you not be, when you were such a fine thing, perfect and bound to make anyone go crazy with lust.

You, meanwhile, stiffened up, the familiar feeling of an egg pushing through from the base of Remy’s cock, into you before being released with the rest of the clutch. The naga gave a slow sigh.

“You forgot one.” He sneered as his cocks slowly pulled out of you, unwillingly as they tried to squirm their way back into your cunt.

You breathed out slowly, something that sounded too close to relief to Remy’s ears. Gritting his teeth, he gave in, and slammed back into you, making you squeal loudly and arch your back, his cocks hungrily exploring you once more.

“Let one of them slip out, and I’ll tie you up outside for a toy for my men, got it?” He hissed, heart warming slightly as you whined and clung to him, wrapping your legs obediently around his hips.

His tail uncoiled from its defensive position, lowering both of you from the great height he had you at. Instead, he started heading back to the manor, his cocks kept snug inside of you even as you passed his men, and went up the stairs.

“Don’t move an inch.” Remy snapped, laying on his back with you on his chest.

You heard a soft pop as Wren reappeared out of the darkness, looking delighted.

“Silly runaway. Got that out of your system?” He murmured to you as he crawled onto the bed. You nodded, teary eyed but still clinging to the naga. “Good.”

Wren straightened up momentarily, just to dip behind the both of you, pressing a kiss to where Remy’s cocks were curled into your cunt, making you both sigh at the warm tongue caressing the sensitive nerves.

He flopped back on the bed, pressing close to the two of you, arm splayed over the small of your back.

“No need to wander off anymore, darling. You’re where you’re supposed to be.”

Kofi

Masterlist

AO3

#commission #remy the farmer #wren the smuggler #wremussy #wremy #dol #nsft #degrees of lewdity #quincewrites #lurker anon #lurker the beloved

131 notes · View notes

inkyquince · 2 years

Text

KICKIN' UP A FUSS Remy x F!PC x Wren

This was a commission from our beloved Lurker anon! Features Remy and Wren, not with a cow!pc for once!

content warning. Noncon with very slight dubcon, flogging and whipping, tiniest bit of bloodplay, Wren x Remy, asshole behavior, mentions of mind break, anal, throat fucking, drugging. 7.5K words.

It had been a long day. A long, hard fucking day. Some days Remy firmly believed that the only reason he got up was to go back to bed, the only time he could ease his aches and pain was when he was lounging on his who-knows-thread-count bedsheets. The work, both on the farm and the riding school was more than fulfilling but the tension in his thighs and lower back was enough to snap a man’s neck.

Today had been harder than most other days, not harder than his days just starting out, but certainly the most irritating one in a very long while. Remy grunted as he yanked his boots off, his socks sticking to his feet from all the sweat of the day. He kicked the shoes away from the bed and let himself fall back into the pillows with a soft whumf. This messy bitch of a day had taken it out of him.

He could still smell the smoke on his clothes, the horsehair, the leather, the gasoline.

A month ago, Remy would have revelled in the smell, the shiver of the horse underneath him as the sparks flickered and caught the gas, spreading fast throughout the field. The sounds of the farmstead in uproar, the fire crackling as the cattle stampede from his men spooking them. The stocky figure of the little shit refusing to bend his way struggling to keep up with the chaos. Remy could taste the victory in the breeze, along with the smoke and stench of fear. After all, there’s only so much bending the young man could afford to do until he broke and sold his farm.

Until you.

You’re such a little fucking cunt.

Once where Alex stood alone against the harsh fires, there you were. Attacking his men, putting out fires, spending your own money on a dying farm. Remy had barely taken notice of you at first, just someone hovering by the ginger twerp’s elbow, scowling at him. Someone paid to be there and when it all sunk into the ground, Alex’s family legacy among the bones of their competition, you’d disappear back into town, or be one of the few to catch a ferry out of here. But no, apparently you were the only reason the farm was actually making money. Brat.

Remy exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. Only one field got even remotely charred and he had to watch his men be chased off from the farm. He was already pulling out all the stops, sending his men after you whenever you did return to town on horseback, sabotaging the fence and tower, even sneaking over.

In the back of his mind, he registered music had started to play somewhere within the estate, on his ancient record player. Soothing. Remy unbuttoned the top buttons on his shirt and rubbed his gloved fingers over his collarbone, an act of self-soothing he had started in his youth.

Admittedly… This was becoming less and less about ruining Alex, maybe even finally getting him on his own payroll and more about… Ruining you. Without you, the farmer would collapse within weeks, yes, but… Bringing such an unruly beast like you down? Stamping resistance out of you and maybe even one day leading you by the horns to the grassy enclosure? He smiled faintly to himself. Sweet day that would be. The image of forcing a bridle onto you, with your teary eyes blinking up at him made warmth pool in his gut, slowly like yarn being unspooled.

Maybe he could just…

The creak of his door opening had him yanking his creeping hand away from his crotch. Remy sat upright, dark hair falling over his face, ready to bite someone’s head off for entering without permission before he saw who it was.

It was sickening to Remy that he could recognise Wren from that smile alone, after all it was always the first thing his eyes fell to. Wide, cheerful, and hiding sharp teeth. He was probably one of the few that knew Wren’s streak of maliciousness. He doubted the blond would have as many admirers lining up to the cottage if he let it out. Not that Remy had a problem with all the smuggler’s suitors… No problem at all.

“Hey, boss.” Wren leaned against the door frame, resting his forearm against the wood. His easy stance exuded confidence, carefree as if there was nothing wrong in the world right now.

“What?” Remy snapped before swinging his legs out of bed.

Wren pushed himself off the doorframe and held up his hands, as if trying to calm an angry beast. His eyes sparkled.

“Don’t worry, this is a friendly visit. All pleasure and no business.”

Remy’s stomach shouldn’t have tightened.

… And Wren shouldn’t smell like liquor.

“You reek.” Remy said, scrunching his nose. “Have you been drinking on the job?”

Wren’s smile didn’t falter, if anything it grew wider. He was too comfortable shirking his responsibilities, practically throwing the fact he was inebriated in Remy’s face. Anyone else would have been tied to the fence, right in front of the cattle, and flogged for all to see.

“Just a little drink, boss. You know how well I can’t help but give into my bad side.” Wren gave a conspiratorial wink. “I gotta indulge where I can.”

Ah, yes. Remy knew of those indulgences. First hand. Incidentally, his own first hand in their game of cards, quiet in the stables on a stormy night, had Wren taking a shot. Two more and he was happily stripping when Remy flatly dared him to, already bored with watching the man get inebriated.

“What do you want?” Remy sighed, fighting back the memory, lest his cock get interested once again.

He turned away from his employee, instead focusing on looking out the window. In the distance was a weak plume of smoke, reaching faintly for the sky. Pathetic.

“Aw, c’mon. You looked all pouty when you came back, I thought I could cheer you up.”

“I was not pouting!” Remy snapped as he spun around, before starting in surprise. The smuggler had crept further into the room without him hearing. Dangerous fucker.

“Yeah, you were.” Wren murmured, blinking slowly at him like a cat. Remy could count his individual eyelashes if wanted to. Too close.

The last time he heard that from Wren, was when he drunkenly told Remy he loved the look on his face when he watched his bulls mount the cows. Remy, admittedly not totally sober, had shot up from his seat and shouted that he had not been staring, and that Wren is toeing the line of being fired.

The man had just smiled, smiled like he was now and grabbed his cock through his jeans, not breaking eye contact with his boss. Purred that if he won the next hand, Remy had to suck him off, just so he could finally enjoy a hung dick in his throat. If he lost, he’d pack his bags and piss off.

Remy could feel Wren’s body heat, from their closeness. Just as he could that night, bobbing enthusiastically on his erection, losing his first time giving a blowjob to the smuggler. Wren had been oh so smug, as if his mastery of Blackjack had caused this. As if Remy hadn’t simply tossed his cards aside with a huff, letting the ace of spades and his ten of hearts be kicked away as he knelt down to undo his belt. Like he was going to let his winning hand stop him from indulging in the smuggler.

“Where did you go, baby.” Wren murmured, his fingers slowly tracing over Remy’s wrist, before hooking his finger into his glove and stroking against his palm.

“Don’t call me that- “

“We’re all alone. C’mon, sweetheart.” Wren leaned in more, nosing along his temple, as if he had been craving all night. Knowing him, he probably had been.

“… Wren, not now- “

“Yeah, now. You’ve been ignoring me for days. I’d be heartbroken if I didn’t know that you have been thinking about me as much as I’ve been thinking about you.” Wren pressed a gentle kiss against his forehead before pulling away slightly, just to bring Remy’s hand up to his lips.

“What makes you think that?” Remy exhaled too fast, struggling to not seem as breathless as he was. “You’ve got a very high opinion of yourself.”

“Cause once you go Wren, there are no other men.” Wren’s lips quivered in a barely contained chuckle.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Remy sighed and tried to tug his hand away, rolling his eyes. Idiot destroyed the moment.

Wren didn’t loosen his grip on Remy's hand, just chuckled, and brought his gloved fingers to his scarred lips. The smuggler pressed a kiss to his knuckles before tilting his head to grip hold of the edge of the glove with his teeth. His soft brown eyes refused to break eye contact with Remy’s, even as he slowly began to peel the glove back. As the leather was stripped away, Remy could feel Wren’s stubble against his palm, his warm skin.

It's not as if Remy hadn’t had any conquests before. He was told to give a hand job to an older kid at school as a dare, and he had fucked one of his older brother’s friends, but that was empty lust, a build-up of meaningless heat and it simply needed to be released. He hadn’t even spared another thought towards them after the event. But Wren crept into his skin, had his body thrumming with want. He’d crave him, the overwhelming feeling of want hummed beneath his skin.

Fuck.

Remy hissed softly between his teeth sharply, as Wren gave a final tug and pulled his glove clean off, letting it hang from his teeth as he bared them in a grin. He dropped the fabric to the floor before pressing Remy’s bare palm to his lips in another kiss, parting his mouth just enough to press his tongue to the skin.

Double fuck.

Remy gritted his teeth before wrenching his hand free from Wren’s hand and grabbing the front of his shirt, smashing their lips together. As much as he tried to deny it, he had been craving Wren in their time apart from each other. The smuggler moaned into his mouth, immediately gripping his sides to manoeuvre Remy to the bed. If anyone else dared to ever manhandle him like this, they would have been locked into the breeding dummy and mounted, dry. But something about Wren’s large, calloused hands pawing at him made his lips curl into a smirk. The blond once confessed to him that he’d always been into Remy, sharing stories about jerking himself off to the thought of Remy using him, taking his own pleasure with Wren’s body. He was weak for the farmer from the start, and while he usually would happily tear out a weak point when he saw one, the endearing, blind loyalty Wren displayed, had him pause… Being a beast in bed also helped.

Wren pushed him down onto the bed, before dropping to his knees and fiddling with his belt, running his tongue over his bottom lip in anticipation.

“Gonna suck you off, boss.” He grinned from his position, deft fingers unclasping the belt. “Need you to be nice and relaxed so you can bounce on my cock without making a hissy fit about being on the bottom.”

“I do NOT throw a hissy fit- Fuck!” Remy cut himself off with a moan as Wren took his cock in hand, cooing at the trickle of pre-cum beading in his slit.

Wren smirked and pushed his hair out of his face, gripping his strands back as he leaned down and took his cockhead into his mouth. Soon the room was filled with Remy’s shaky moans along with Wren’s pornographic sucking sounds, bobbing his head so eagerly he was in danger of hurting his neck. His tongue eagerly dragged over the throbbing cock, snaking his other hand down his pants to fondle his erection.

Remy bit down on his bottom lip and closed his eyes, leaning his head back to properly enjoy the eager mouth around his cock but there was something wrong. As much as he tried to focus on the silver tongue of his smuggler, a part of his brain refused to let up from the annoyance of the day, marring his conscience with… With…

Thoughts of you on your knees. Teary eyed with a mouthful of cock. Gagging and drooling around him, begging with your glassy eyes to stop, for release, to be able to go back to your stupid little farm boy. Bare cunt out, and despite all your crying and begging, you’re wet, humping at his shoe. Because you know that between him and Alex, he is the only one who could tame you, break you, mould you. Maybe, if you were good for him, he’d deign to protect you, once he had beaten all that attitude out of you. You would look good in his fields, wouldn’t you? Stupid wide-eyed cow, your tits out and your hips swaying at the farmhands, needing to be mounted soon or you’ll trot over to the centaur enclosure. Beg for him to milk you. However… It would be a shame to lose that sharp little mind to think of nothing but grass, of milking and being mounted.

Remy frowned and pushed that thought out of his mind, focusing back on the image of ruining your mouth, pried apart with a gag, no, no, a mouth speculum, one usually used to hold open Remy’s horses’ mouths when they had teeth checks. Mouth pried apart so that anyone could use it, unable to shut those pretty lips so he could just watch you drool, humiliated on his barn floor. No, he should get you into a modified squeeze chute in the palpation cage, trap you in there all humiliated like a cow. Fuck you stupid, flog you, ruin you. Maybe let you drag yourself home to your runt of a boyfriend, maybe turn you into a member of the herd… Maybe…

With a grunt, still thinking about ruining you, he came down Wren’s throat, exhaling shakily as the smuggler moaned and swallowed down, his throat working around his cock. He felt him chuckle around his length before pulling off, strands of cum bridging the tip of his cock to his bottom lip before breaking away.

“That good, huh?” Wren teased, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Remy just quirked his lips at him. No reason to burst his bubble.

Wren, unaware of the real reason Remy came so quickly, grinned at him, and began to tug his own shirt off, erection tenting against his jeans prominently. Remy just scooched up the bed, smirking at the smuggler faintly as he leaned his knee against the bed spread, still trying to yank the shirt off of his head. He didn’t want to hurt him, physically or feelings wise, seeing as he’s been the best lay he’s had on demand for quite a while. Nothing to do with the automatic lift seeing him gave Remy’s mood. Anyway, now that he had ruined you properly in his imagination, he could lay back and enjoy Wren’s own worship. That man fucked like his life depended on it, and he could bet that that was in fact the case once or twice before.

Later, with Wren leaning against his headboard, being allowed to light up a cigarette after a bribe of kisses and puppy dog eyes, Remy settled against his bare chest and shut his eyes. In between making notes to have his maid wash the sheets and air out the room in the morning, he kept seeing flashes of your face, chin lifted with a scowl. What a little troublemaker he had on his hands. As Wren exhaled and wrapped a muscular arm around him, hand splayed out on his stomach, Remy’s thoughts drifted back over to the day’s havoc. He acknowledged Wren’s soft kisses against his temple, trailing down to his collarbones, with a soft sigh, while formulating a plan to trap and ensnare. By the time he could feel Wren growing excited again, giving his shoulder little love bites, he had a solid idea on how to both remove a long-time adversary and gain a little bit of fun, if only temporarily.

He didn’t dispute it when Wren murmured soft teases into his ear, about Remy’s hard cock showing how excited he was to have the smuggler mount him again, just smirking as he was pushed down again.

Only when sated twice more, and stepping out on his balcony, overseeing the huge grassy paddock the cattle usually milled around in, did he finally let Wren know about his plan. The blond had yet to see the little mischief-maker, but he did see how pissed off Remy would be when he returned, so he just nodded along. The two men shared a cigarette, as well as slow kisses when the lamps of the patrolling guards were far enough in the distance that they couldn’t possibly notice them. As he watched his counterpart, Wren exhaled through his nose, and decided that nefarious plans, smoky kisses, and an insatiable little fuck buddy was worth all the hassle it came with. He was always soft on him, but where once he was counting down the days to grab his dusty duffle and split for greener pastures, now he struggled to even think about a day where his thoughts drifted to the ferry, huffing, and puffing to and from the docks. Plus, the cute thing that snuck in and played a mean hand of blackjack kept things interesting. Though, he frowned to himself, he’s got to be more careful about the stupid shit they dare each other. Remy was going to catch them in the act one day, and he was going to be in the doghouse. As Remy plucked the cigarette from his own lips and placed them on Wren’s, watching like a ravenous hawk as he breathed in the fumes, Wren did wonder if the doghouse would be that bad. His boss did love a loyal mutt and if tonight’s romp proved anything, his boss had a serious weakness when it came to him.

As he should, really.

He drew Remy closer and looked off into the distance, where the loathed farmstead stood, soft lights twinkling in the darkness. They deserved the momentary peace of the night, and Wren hoped they were savouring it, because soon, he will be fucking them up good.

Good thing you and Alex did savour the night.

Clinked chipped mugs together and stretched your legs out at the table. Smoke still clung to your clothes, you both had bruises and sores from trying to quiet down the animals, and you two could still smell the patch of field that caught fire, but nonetheless, it was high spirits and laughter.

“I bet that ugly bastard is absolutely seething right now!” Alex grinned against the rim of his mug, freckled cheeks dimpled from his huge grin.

“Believe me, he’ll be absolutely raging tomorrow.” You toed your muddy boots off with a sigh.

Alex made a sound of curiosity as he drank deeply from his mug, one ginger eyebrow raising. He looked, frankly, comical, and you smirked at him.

“Got a plan.” You simply said and stood up, downing the rest of your drink. “One that will have him absolutely pissing his pants in anger.”

“Wey hey, look at you, lil townie.” Alex teased but worry clouded his eyes. “Don’t… Don’t do anything stupid- “

You snorted softly and set your mug back down on the table. Nudging your caked boots over to the side door, you mulled over your idea. You’ve snuck over there before. Played a few hands, maybe even enjoyed some groping and the eager thick dick squirming into you, but you always walked away with the entire estate in an uproar. Naked or clothed, your own slick or someone else’s cum dripping from your cunt, who cared. You hadn’t played a bad hand yet, and Remy needed some goddamn humbling after today. It wouldn’t hurt to take Alex’s favourite whiskey along and get the lads absolutely off their heads. Just to do a bit more damage this go round.

“When have I ever done something stupid?” You chose to keep the plan to yourself. Alex would just get himself in danger or try to talk you out of it.

“Since day one of knowing you, sweetheart.” He snorted. “You chose to come work at a failing farm. If nothing else, it shows you don’t have that little voice in your head that tells you this is a bad idea.”

You just smirked at him. With a cheerful sing-song voice, you bade Alex goodnight and headed up to your room, all too knowing of his heavy gaze at your retreating back. You were unsure if you wanted to start something with Alex, a thing he obviously wanted, but you couldn’t let anything distract you from tomorrow.

The blond beauty you often played tonsil tennis with would need some encouragement to get drunker than usual, and while the whiskey was a good one, you might have to dose it with a little something more to make sure it would have the desired effect. You knew of the pink plant’s effects out on the moors, but maybe something like those red mushrooms you spotted in the woods a while back could help?

You shut your bedroom door behind you with a satisfied sigh. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, starting from the ass crack of dawn to get back into town, and from there, the pharmacy for anything that could help with your plan, and if not there, the forest. Then, back to the farmstead. Maybe help out Alex a bit before prepping the whiskey and heading out to the moors. Negating any horrible creatures or perverts would waylay you in your hunt, tomorrow Remy’s estate should be nothing but chaos. You could feel the excitement build in your stomach, the same way it did when you saw his shadowy figure atop his horse, standing at the crest of the hill overlooking the farm you had put so much time, effort, and money into.

You once tried to explain the feeling that seeing Remy gave you to Robin. An excitement, just from the knowledge that there would be trouble afoot, challenges to meet and surpass. Remy was smarter than any of the people you had to clash against before, and since he played dirty, it meant you could finally play foul.

As you stripped to get into bed, you could hear Robin’s reply. The way they giggled and nudged your side, more excited than you as they told you had a crush. Oh Robin. Without a bone with a single lick of animosity, you doubted she would ever actually know what a thrill it was meeting someone who was your match.

A sudden breeze startled you, the cold air nipping at your skin. The window to your room was open and you crossed the room, faltering when you gripped the latch. Your nipples hardened in the cool night, and you could faintly see the damned estate in the distance, barely. Remy liked heavy curtains, but it couldn’t hide the glimmer of lanterns slowly inching their way across the night, the patrols already in motion. You couldn’t hide the fact you were practically giddy at crossing the threshold into his private property once more, though you didn’t know if it was for the payback you had planned, or the fact that every time you did, a fun time awaited you. Maybe it was accidental conditioning. After all, that smuggler had a wicked tongue and a fat cock that refused to quit, and you didn’t mind his wandering hands every time you played cards.

You were excited to see him again, you guess.

Wasn’t a guess. It was a fact.

After all, you didn’t greet everyone with a smack to their ass and a wink. Wren had flung open the door the moment he happened to spot you through the window out of the cottage, spiked whiskey in hand.

“Now, where have you been all this time, doll?” He grinned as he shut the door behind you, his hand already running over your side. “We were just starting to miss you.”

The comment was sweet, but the tone was lecherous. As if he didn’t need cards, shots, and dares to start mouthing at your tits, tugging on your soft nipples till they stood to attention. Of course, you both knew he didn’t, but the game you two played was fun.

It didn’t take a lot of persuasion to get right to business. Hell, Wren popped the bottle of whiskey open himself and brought it to his nose, closing his eyes to inhale the scent. Those pretty dark brown eyes were on you again, with his brilliant grin glinting in the low light.

“Fully pulled out all the stops for us, huh? Got us something extra special.” He grinned before turning away from you and heading to the cabinets holding the glasses.

Your stomach tightened out of nervousness. He didn’t smell something off about the whiskey did he?

Wren busied himself, prepping the drinks and dropping ice into the glasses, humming softly to himself. His shoulders were distracting you, the lean muscle shifting and stretching out the white tank top he wore. While turned away, he began to whistle softly, swaying a bit to the tune before turning back towards you, holding out the tumbler of whiskey, now refreshed with an already melting ice cube.

“Drink up, doll. I’ve got a game of blackjack to win.”

You snorted and took the drink, wanting to take a moment to examine it but with those bronze eyes trained on you, you could only flash a faux friendly grin and take a sip. The liquid burned as it went down, warming your stomach considerably. No wonder Alex would sneak some of this out in a flask and take regular sips. Wren watched your throat move as you swallowed, and your gut also started feeling that familiar warmth, the type that he regularly was the source of. You swallowed another mouthful of whiskey and cleared your throat.

“So, are we gonna play or- W-Woah.” As you tried to head over to the main room with the card table, your legs wobbled and gave out on you.

You would have hit the floor if Wren hadn’t lunged for you, hooking his strong forearms underneath your armpits, and hauling you back up. The tumbler slipped from your rapidly numbing fingers and smashed on the floor, ice and glass scattering everywhere. You tried to steady yourself, but you couldn’t feel your legs, just the strange static spreading from the tips of your toes, up, up to your waist and creeping further up.

You tried to speak, but your tongue was heavy, awkward, and feeling like it was too big for your mouth. Instead you only whined.

You felt Wren’s chest vibrate with a chuckle, not a good natured one like usual, but one that had the hair on your arms stand upright.

The smuggler dragged you over to one of the chairs and let you slump down into it, his large, calloused hands still gripping your chin and shoulder so you wouldn’t slide off. He forced your hazy eyes to meet his own and that’s when you realised the one huge mistake you made with Wren. One majorly important thing you had completely disregarded, thinking you knew better.

Wren was still dangerous.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He tutted. “Can’t believe you thought I’d fall for the oldest trick in the book. I can smell pure whiskey from a mile away. Gotta gets up a lot earlier in the day to pull one over on me.”

His forefinger tapped against your cheek, as if reprimanding you.

“Guess it can’t be helped now. Time for you to meet the boss.”

Remy couldn’t believe his own luck. Just one thought had him tear his eyes away from your slumped over form, wrists and ankles tied to the mounting dummy.

“How did you even get the opportunity to drug them?”

Wren, who similarly couldn’t believe his luck, just gave a grin, trying to hide his uneasiness. It was obvious now, who else would sneak into to play Blackjack and focus on all the destructive dares anyone could ever think of. Just have to work on Remy not finding out all the shit they both did to the estate now, and he’ll be able to get off scot-free.

“You know I don’t kiss and tell, boss.”

Remy narrowed his eyes at the blond but just turned away, not wanting to kick up a fuss just yet, especially with all of his other farm hands around who assembled at the announcement that you had been captured. They shivered with excitement, muttering to each other, sharing thoughts about what your sentencing could possibly be. You were still out like a light, not used to the drug dosage in your system, despite everything you had been through in this godforsaken town. Your eyelids flickered, so close to waking but never opened your eyes.

“What ya gonna do, boss?” One spoke up, tearing her eyes away from your lip form. “Could blackmail the farmer, say we got his little girlfriend- “

“No.” Remy sighed, shutting her up immediately. “Haven’t you all ogled enough?”

The annoyance was clear in his tone and his employees began to shuffle towards the exit, some reaching out to grope your ass before whisking their hands away. Wren started to head out before being gripped by the shoulder, Remy shooting him a warning glance to stay exactly where he was.

When the last person was out and the barn door swung shut behind them, Remy finally approached you, gait slow and steady, similar to the one he used when approaching spooked cattle. His gloved hand trailed over your head, stroking down along your neck, and pausing over the small of your back. Wren just watched.

“I’m going to have what’s owed to me.” Remy finally said, coming to a decision on what to do with you.

“What’s that then?” Wren regretted his catty tone, especially with the raised eyebrow his boss shot at him. Fuck, he shouldn’t like you so much. He would be more eager for what’s about to happen if he weren’t so fond.

“Watch your mouth.” Remy snapped. “Don’t think you’re off the hook yet either.”

Wren shied away and ran a hand through his hair.

“Get out, Wren. I’ll call you back when I need you.” Remy didn’t even look at him, already heading to the far side of the room, where the riding crops and whips were hung up.

Without another word, the smuggler turned on his heel and walked out. He didn’t give your form another glance before the door shut.

It wasn’t the ache in the back that finally roused you, from being stretched over the dummy for so long. Wasn’t even the cramp in your stomach from the wood digging into you. It was the sudden crack of leather against your skin that jerked you out of your drug induced sleep. You were screaming before you opened your eyes.

It burned, leaving a deep red mark against the curve of your spine. Tears were already dripping from your eyes as you began to squirm, everything crashing down on you all at once. The pain, the smell, the way you were folded over on a strange item, similar to the pommel horse you used in the gym when the pool was closed. Gasping in pain you tried to kick your legs, but they were tied fast to the wooden legs of the equipment you had been laid over. It was only then you realised you were also naked, bared to the world with your pussy on show and your nipples hard in the cool air. Worse, you felt something intrusive in your mouth, a metal bar against your upper and lower teeth, wrenching your lips apart and letting you drool all over the floor. Your tongue felt dry, like cotton and you could taste faint copper from your cracked lips.

“Breath through your nose.” The familiar voice had you freezing in shock. “Makes the pain easier. Or so I’ve been told.”

You tried to turn your head, but a strange collar hand was clamped down on your neck, forcing you to stare straight down at the dusty floor, littered with the odd piece of hay. What you could see out of your peripherals, was a pair of polished riding boots, making their way towards you from the side.

A gloved hand came down on the back of your neck, strangely gently. The leather rubbed against your skin slowly, as if soothing a wild beast. You could smell the cologne. Worst of all, you recognised it. You were finally outfoxed with Remy. You tried to swear at him, but only a strange, garbled mumble came out.

“Shh, little one.” The farmer murmured. “Don’t try to speak just yet. Just take your punishment like a good girl.”

You garbled again, struggling to shout profanities at him. Another ear-splitting crack cut you off and the feeling of leather bit into your skin again. You gave a shout of pain, as the initial pain faded and left the feeling of oversensitivity to the cool air. A gloved hand trailed over your back, thumb digging into the reddened mark on your back. You couldn’t hear it over your own whimpers, but Remy’s breath had quickened. You reacted so beautifully.

Remy weighed the handle of the whip in his hand before flicking it, enjoying the shiver of fear you gave, seeing it move. He gathered the length of it, clasping the thin end to the handle before raising his arm, drunk off your panicked movements.

He brought it down again, this time hitting you with the rounded end. Your scream of pain once again sent blood to his cock and Remy gripped the edge of the table to enjoy the sudden dizzying pleasure. Turning fully to the table of assembled tools, he laid the whip flat and picked up the riding crop instead, testing the flexibility by smacking it against his palm a few times.

Thus began the next hour, Remy working down the items spread out, putting all his strength in whipping the riding crop against your bare thighs. He made sure to regularly switch what he was using, just to make sure you wouldn’t get used to each individual sensation. Favouring the whip, your back was marred by criss cross lashes, raised and red, throbbing painfully. Of course, it was accompanied by the lines of pink against your thighs, left by the crop, and the grouped scratches decorated by the flogger Remy used to ruin any inch of skin untouched by the other two tools.

By the end, Remy was panting, massaging the back of your neck as you weakly twitched, body spasming from the aftershocks. Moisture beaded along his hairline, dark hair made darker by his sweat. The pristine white shirt he wore was loosened, sleeves pushed up to his elbows and one of his black gloves lay on the floor, torn off when one of your marks had begun to sluggishly bleed and he wanted to smear his bare fingers with crimson.

Remy dropped the flogger and placed his hands on your hips, leaning forward to press his dry lips against your spine, tongue flicking against the small cuts made by the leather. His saliva made them burn and you choked out a whine, too weak to even try to kick at him anymore.

“You took your punishment so well.” He murmured as he broke away, turning his head to rest his cheek against your back. “Precious thing.”

Your stomach flipped at the sudden softness, uncomfortable yet warmed by his praise. Then you remembered. Of course, you thought bitterly, fighting back tears. You could remember Winter’s words as clear as day. Aftercare was important at the end of a scene, especially if it involved pain and restricted movement. Except, this hadn’t been a thought-out scene, with a safe word for the two of you. This had been real and the soft words from the farmer had your vision getting hazy and watery. You slowly started to relax, despite the uncomfortable position, thanking fuck-knows that that was finally the end of it.

The sound of a zipper, loud over your two combined panting, had you freezing up again.

Something hot and slick pressed against your thigh. It throbbed as you stiffened.

“Good girls get a reward.” Remy breathed shakily, dragging his cock over your marked thigh.

You felt the tears welling as his cockhead nudged your clit and was about to start thrashing again when the door to the barn flung open, smacking the wall, and making dust kick up. Wren stepped in, appearing out of the night that had fallen a while ago. Just in his tank top and jeans, he looked strangely hot and bothered despite the cold he came in from. His eyes, usually warm and bright, were dark, almost black, as they raked over the scene.

Relief flooded you and you gave a loud cry that had him start towards you before stopping, a frown forming. Worry encased his handsome features and he glanced at Remy, who was frozen behind you.

One thing everyone in the room currently knew was that Remy was no fool, and with that garbled mess that was a cry, it took him only second to figure out that it sounded suspiciously like-

“Your name.” Remy hissed through his teeth, cock softening only a fraction. “Why… Does she know your name, darling?”

Wren opened and shut his mouth several times. You, similarly, were in shock. Remy was at ease in the silence, if shaking with anger.

“You fucking asshole. It was you.”

Wren said nothing. Just looked back at him, mouth trying to form words. Silence hung over the three of you, Remy’s quick mind having figured out who had wreaked havoc across the estate, with the help of someone he thought he trusted. Someone who set the cattle loose and sparked fires and then crawled into his bed to fuck him like they were lovers or something. Fucker.

Remy bit down hard on his own lip.

“Choose.”

Wren blinked.

“Choose who you’re going to help, Wren. Choose fucking carefully.”

He understood what he was saying. Soft brown eyes glanced into yours. Tears dripped steadily down, and you whined for help. Wren looked back at Remy, his tousled hair and chiselled jaw line, his bare collarbones and the scar that painted the left side of his face. He made his choice within a split second. With precise movements, he kicked the door shut and unbuttoned his jeans.

You couldn’t stop the tears spilling over your cheeks as the man you considered a friend walked closer, pulling his rock-hard cock out of his jeans, only to stop in front of your face, weeping cockhead perfectly at eye level. Remy grunted.

“Not out of the woods yet, Wren. I’ll just figure out your punishment later- Hmf!” He was cut off by Wren leaning over and gripping his hair, bringing their mouths crashing together in a sloppy kiss.

Both men moaned into the kiss, Remy getting hard again from the smuggler’s tongue pushing into his mouth. Wren’s fingers stroked his hair, a thousand apologies in his motions and you would almost think that both men had forgotten about you, if Remy hadn’t started to mount you again, fat cockhead pressing against your leaking hole.

You winced as Wren’s other hand dropped to your cheek, yanking at the metal in your mouth, unaware of your discomfort until the men parted, saliva stringing in between their lips. The smuggler dropped to a squat, rock hard cock still standing proud as he gave the contraption in your mouth a proper look over. He was petting your head gently as he tugged at the leather, before giving a grin of excitement and you felt it loosen and fall off. You could finally close your mouth again, chapped lips rough against each other, mouth dryer than a rock. You barely had a second to bask in the moment before Wren’s fingers were digging into your lips, prying them apart again to slip his erection into your mouth.

You realised, with a deep jolt of disgust, that… It felt good. Saliva and precum wetted your mouth again, and it was comforting to suck on Wren’s fat cock, as it throbbed against your sore teeth. You don’t know if it was from the deeply brutal flogging you had endured but you couldn’t help but bob your head slowly, nose buried in his thick, dark blond happy trail.

“There we go, baby.” He murmured. “You missed my cock, huh? That’s okay, sweetheart, you need some Wren love right now.”

Remy snorted darkly and the smuggler just smirked, leaning over to press kisses along your spine, your back, his hands rubbing over your abused skin with a strange reverence. The farmer, however, was entranced by the way you had gotten wetter the moment his employee slipped his cock into your mouth. As if it was the most delicious thing in the world, and exactly what you needed after an hour of being whipped… It wasn’t as if Wren’s dick wasn’t weirdly addictive to just hold in your mouth, but it made Remy’s stomach flip. Cock Whore. You had been made into his cock whore.

Slick dripped like syrup from your hole and if Remy had been in a slightly better mood, he would have stuffed his face between your thighs and slurped at your cunt like a man starved. But no, he had been hard for a long while, and needed one thing right now.

You squealed around Wren’s cock as you felt Remy enter you, his own erection prying your walls apart, but the stretch just had your pussy tightening. It felt good, the way he was using you.

“Fuck.” He whispered as he bottomed out inside of you.

Wren moaned in tandem, beginning to hump against your face.

Thus began the next hour of your life. Thus began the rest of your life.

Remy rutted into you like a man possessed, utterly pussy drunk off of your leaking cunt, the loud squelching and his bare hips hitting your skin filling the air. Your own slick ran down his thighs, his cock soaked with it. Wren wasn’t much better, when he wasn’t hungrily mouthing at Remy’s bottom lip, he was moaning, head tilted back like a whore as you sucked him off, flicking your tongue against his slit, trying to drink down any precum that dribbled out. You were going to learn exactly how Wren loved being ridden, how Remy would need your hot mouth worshipping his balls after a bad day. You were going to be rewarded with cum and punished with flogging when you acted up, until you were nothing but a cock whore for the two men.

The farmhands knew better than trying to disturb the barn that night. They didn’t even raise questions when their already limited access to the estate was further restricted. Most simply had a hunch but no one knew for sure, nor will they ever know.

Alex never heard from you again, until a week after Wren came up for air from having you sit on his face and slurred out that he wanted to marry you. That’s when Remy had the idea to finally turn you into the perfect little wife, not just for him. Alex saw you when he took his evening walk, past the riding school, and saw you, with your arms around Remy’s waist, clinging onto him for dear life as he urged his horse into a gallop. He also noticed the wedding ring.

Alex would try to get to you. Never succeeded.

And you wouldn’t have gone with him anyway. Days were spent giving the cattle pats, walking around in Remy’s white shirt as you prowled for snacks in the kitchen, of reading in the library, of learning how to cook not just for your husband. Nights had the three of you pawing at each other after eating together, fucking like animals, exchanging sloppy kisses until someone dozed off.

Best of all, as Wren murmured praises as you sunk down on his cock in the open field with Remy kneeling behind you, pressing fingers into the smuggler’s ass, you really didn’t think that you would have it any other way.

Kofi

Masterlist

AO3

#commission #remy the farmer #wren the smuggler #wremussy #wremy #dol #nsft #quincewrites #lurker anon #lurker the beloved #degrees of lewdity

139 notes · View notes