Nerd In the North II-7b (NSFW)

II-7b: The Price of Fame II


Author’s Note: This is the first NSFW chapter I’ve ever written, at least one with sex. It’s only gonna be on QQ so, if you read Nerd In the North there, you’re seeing this there.

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

Greg’s mind was a whirlpool of sensation, each moment blurring into the next. Why are things moving so fast? Wh-why am I just going along with this? His thoughts were like scattered leaves caught in a gale, but he knew why. He just didn’t want to risk it stopping. “Wh-what’s your name?” he finally found the words.

“Hyla, m’lord.” He felt her fingers fumbling with the laces of his breeches, her hands surprisingly capable despite his own clumsiness. The cool air hit his skin as she pulled them down, and he shivered, but not really from the cold. Goosebumps prickled along his skin, but the chill was quickly replaced by the warmth radiating from her. 

“Softly now,” she murmured, her voice a sultry whisper that seemed to wrap around him like tendrils of smoke. He could feel her breath on his waistline, warm and inviting, as the straw beneath him crunched softly, a faint reminder of where he was. Her hands roamed over his chest, tracing lines that sent electric jolts through his body. He couldn’t help but moan softly, the sound escaping him before he could stop it. “Ease up, m’lord.”

Ease up. The words echoed in his head, pounding as he heard his heartbeat in his ears. His muscles were taut, every nerve ending vibrating with the unfamiliar touch. Hyla straddled him, her weight pressing him deeper into the mattress. He looked up at her, his vision swimming slightly, but her face remained clear, beautiful. He could feel the heat radiating from her core, a stark contrast to the cool air of the room. Her thighs were soft against his bare hips, but there was an underlying strength in her movements that made him ache even more.

“Look at me, m’lord,” she said, her voice gentle, almost pleading. 

Greg obeyed, his blue eyes locking onto hers. They were a light gray, almost silver, and in that moment they seemed to pierce right through him. Her gaze held a mix of tenderness and something else—something wild that quickened his pulse.

Hyla leaned forward, her lips brushing against his ear. “Trust me.”

The word reverberated through him, and for a brief moment, he did. Something inside him shifted, a knot loosening just enough to let some of the tension seep away. He let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes as she kissed a path down his jawline, her lips leaving trails of fire in their wake.

Hyla’s hands slid down to his waist, finding purchase between his legs. He gasped, his body arching up instinctively as her fingers teased him, circling with maddening slowness. The sensation was both foreign and intoxicating, spiraling through his blood like liquid flame. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, nails biting into his palms as he fought to stay still.

“D’you like it, m’lord?”

He didn’t answer, couldn’t. His brain was too fogged by alcohol and desire to form coherent thoughts. All he could do was feel, and what he felt was overwhelming. His breath came in ragged gasps, each inhale almost a fight.

She shifted again, her movements more fumbling and hesitant now, but he didn’t care. He felt a strange pressure building within him, something that stretched and pulled at his insides. It was uncomfortable, almost painful, and yet it also sent a thrill racing through him. His hips twitched involuntarily, seeking something he couldn’t name.

“Shh,” Hyla soothed, her hand stroking him with slow, deliberate strokes. “For you.”

For me. The words rolled around in Greg’s brain, echoing through the haze. He focused on it, tried to anchor himself to it. Her touch was relentless, not practiced but steady all the same, driving him closer and closer to the edge. He could feel himself trembling, his body tightening with the strain of holding back.

And then—release.

It hit him like a wave, crashing over him with dizzying force. His entire body convulsed, muscles spasming as pleasure exploded through him. He cried out, a raw, guttural sound torn from deep within him. His vision blurred, stars dancing in the edges of his sight as he rode the wave, drowning in sensation.

When it finally faded, Greg lay there, gasping for breath. His body felt heavy, boneless, as if all the tension had drained out of him. She looked up at him, her gray-eyed gaze locked on to his face. 

“Good?” she asked, her voice soft, almost hesitant.

The blond boy managed a nod, though his throat was too dry to speak, the world still spinning.

She smiled then. “Right, then, this’ll be sweet too.”

Before he could ask what she meant, Hyla shifted again, her body sliding up his until her lips hovered just above his groin. His breath hitched, a fresh wave of panic washing over him as he felt his body tense again.

Her tongue flicked out, just once, tasting the tip of him. The sensation was electric, shooting straight to his core. He bucked up instinctively, a desperate attempt to escape the intensity of it. But she only laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent another shiver through him.

“Easy,” she murmured, her voice a caress against his skin. “Just let me.”

Her mouth closed over him then, warm and wet and utterly consuming. He groaned, his hands clenching into fists again as he fought to stay still. Her lips worked in rhythm with her hand, her tongue darting out periodically to tease.

Greg could feel himself hardening again, already on the edge of something he wasn’t sure he wanted to fall off. But she didn’t stop, her bobbing firm and ongoing as she brought him closer and closer and closer. His breath came in short, desperate gasps, each one punctuated by a soft whimper.

“Almost there,” Hyla pulled back a little to whisper, her voice vibrating through his length. “Just a little more.”

The young Veder couldn’t hold back any longer. With a final, agonized cry, he spilled into her mouth, his body shuddering a bit with the force of it. Still, she didn’t stop, her mouth on him as she sucked him dry, milking every last drop until he was completely spent.

When she finally pulled away, he lay there, panting and glazed over. The room was silent except for the pounding of his heart, loud in his ears. She crawled up his body, her weight settling against his chest as she looked down at him.

“You taste sweet,” she said, her voice husky and satisfied. “Like mead.”

For a moment, a thought filtered into his head. I can’t… I can’t do this. I don’t know… I don’t know this girl, I don’t…

“Stay wi’ me tonight,” she whispered, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest interrupting whatever thought he could have had. “We can wander more.”

He hesitated, his mind still fuzzy with desire and confusion. More?The word hung in the air, a promise and a challenge all at once.

She rolled over onto him again before he could say another word. Hyla shifted, aligning herself with him, and he felt the pressure building. His heart raced, pounding in his ears, drowning out the distant sounds of the feast. Every nerve in his body seemed to be on fire, tingling with anticipation.

She leaned down, her lips brushing his ear. “You ready, m’lord?” she whispered, her breath hot against his skin.

Greg nodded, his throat dry.

She lowered herself slowly, inch by inch, until he felt the tightness surround him. A sharp gasp escaped his lips, and he clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. The sensation was overwhelming, both pleasure and pain mingling in a confusing rush.

“Easy,” she murmured, her fingers tracing soothing circles on his chest. “Just breathe.”

He forced himself to breathe, each inhale ragged and uneven. Her movements were slow, deliberate, testing his limits. He bit his lip, trying to suppress the groan building in his throat. The room seemed to spin faster, the edges blurring together.

Her hips began to move, rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He felt every shift, every slide, each movement sending waves of pleasure crashing over him.

“That’s it,” she cooed, voice full of pleasure. “Just let go.”

He did, letting the tension drain from his muscles. Her pace quickened, matching the frantic beat of his heart. Her nails raked lightly down his chest, adding another layer of intensity to the experience. He gasped, the sound blending with her soft moans. The bed creaked beneath them, the noise rhythmic and steady.

Th-this is insane, his ale-addled mind thought. 

But he wasn’t going to stop.

Her hips thrust harder, faster, driving him closer to the edge. He could feel the pressure building, threatening to explode at any moment. His body tensed, every muscle straining. He was sailing on another wave of pure ecstasy, teetering on the brink. It’s so… so different.

“Almost there,” she breathed, her voice thick and breathy. “’old on.”

He nodded, though he wasn’t sure if she could see it in the darkness. Her movements became wild, erratic, as his vision blurred, raw, primal need coursing through his veins.

And then, without warning, it happened like before. A surge of white-hot energy exploded through him, rippling outward from his core. He cried out, the sound ripped from deep within, echoing through the room as she did the same.

“Oh, m’lord,” she made to fall back.

Greg’s vision blurred, the edges of his sight darkening as he forced himself up. He barely registered the girl beneath him, her eyes wide and her breath quickening.

The world was a spinning blur, but his body moved on instinct, driven by something primal and urgent. His hands clamped down on her wrists, pinning them to the bed as he shifted his weight, flipping them over in one clumsy motion. She gasped, her voice cracking with surprise and something else—something that sent a thrill through him.

He pushed in again, with a force that made her yelp with surprise a second time.

Not too much, though, as her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, and he could feel the heat between them intensifying. The room was a cacophony of their ragged breaths, the creak of the bed, and her moans that seemed to echo off the walls.

“M’lord,” she whimpered, her voice thick with a Northern accent that only made it so much better. “Oh my gods, m’lord.”

Her words were like fuel to his fire, driving him deeper, harder. He could feel the sweat slicking his skin, the ale still churning in his gut, and yet none of it mattered. All that existed was this moment, this raw, intense connection. He watched as her head thrashed from side to side, her pigtails flailing like a tail.

“Aye,” she breathed, her nails digging into his back. “More, m’lord… more…”

The pressure built within him, a tension that demanded release. He gritted his teeth, his jaw clenching as he pushed harder, faster. Her cries grew louder, more desperate.

God, this… this is it. This is real.

He could feel her tightening around him, the muscles spasming as she reached her own peak. Her voice rose to a strained scream, high and piercing, cutting through the haze of his drunken mind.

“M’lord! Oh my gods, m’lord!”

Her body bucked beneath him, and he could feel the tremors running through her. It was too much, too intense, and with a final, desperate thrust, he spilled inside her, his own cry mingling with hers for a second time.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence, broken only by their heavy breathing. Greg collapsed beside her, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. The room was still spinning, but now it felt distant, unimportant. All that mattered was the warmth of her body next to his.

“Bloody ‘ell, m’lord,” she murmured, her voice soft and dazed. “Yer a right beast, ye are.”

Greg said nothing, the blond boy silent.

“M’lord?”

Hyla, daughter of Harl, blinked in confusion and looked over towards where Greg lay, only for a slight laugh to spill out of her as soft snores filled the dark room.

V Card Swiped – 200 GP

Roll: I’m Not Rusty [Shovel Knight] {Lore} (300 GP) – No matter how long you go without practice and exercise, you will stay just as skilled.

Grimoire Points: 400