#every time I feel we have reach the bottom that we can't go any lower something happens

[thechantrydeservedit]

I was going through a lot of very traumatic things in my life and I go back to Tumblr just to find out about the mercenary offering to take down the government

[dollfacefantasy]

CRY IF I WANT TO ♡

pairing: negan x fem!reader

summary: life has been different since you've been taken to the sanctuary. you're not sure how you fit in here. some may call you one of the wives, but you don't think that's accurate. maybe his pet? his doll? as the days pass, you're not sure it really matters. the distinction doesn't get you any closer to escape.

cw: nsfw (18+), dark fic, smut, dubcon, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), kidnapping/captivity, stockholm syndrome, coercion, forced ddlg/daddy kink, humiliation kink, dacryphilia, violence (from negan, simon, and reader), hurt/comfort sorta

wc: 10.9k (oops lol)

a/n: ermmm... hehe yeah. i've been wanting to write this so i hope someone likes it. reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated <3

kinktober slot: day 13 - mindbreak (i think)

"Rise and shine, little lady. We got a lot of things to do today."

Your eyes flutter open, the bright light from the window in front of you broken up by the silhouette of the man at your bedside. The sight of him, even just the outline of his body, sends a nauseating crackle of dread through your bones. It's a feeling you can't verbalize of course - not if you want this day to resemble any sort of pleasant.

"There she is," Negan says, speaking with his signature cadence that made you want to rip out your hair, "How'd you sleep, babydoll?"

"Fine," you rasp as you slowly sit up. The mornings were the only time you could get away with dull answers like that. Any small bit of attitude could be blamed on you being 'cranky' rather than feelings of hatred that hadn't been broken down by this point.

He smiles at you, his rough hand cupping your jaw.

"You're so pretty in the mornings," he mumbles, sweeping a thumb over your pouty bottom lip.

You pause for a second, but so does he. Like he expects a reply. Unfortunately, you know the words he wants to hear. Swallowing the last sliver of dignity you have, you force out the response you'd been trained to say over the last however-long.

"Thank you, daddy."

He grins even wider if that's possible and pats your head. "You're welcome. Now let's get you dressed. Like I said, daddy's got a lot to do today."

You get out of bed and follow him over to the dresser that held your outfit for the day. The chill of cold air bites at your legs as the lack of blankets leaves them exposed. The generator had been out for the past day or so, leaving the Sanctuary victim to the harsh Winter raging outside. You were hoping he'd take that into account when picking your clothes, but you didn't hold out too much hope.

The two of you shuffle around the gray furniture of Negan's room. Even though you'd been in here more times than you could count now, you still marveled at the quality of the chairs and sofa. Items like these seemed luxurious with how the world was outside these walls.

When you reach the dresser, you follow the routine you'd become used to. You peel the small shirt you're permitted to sleep in off and drop it in the basket nearby. Your panties are next to go. You pull the dainty garment down and toss it to the same place as your top.

You can feel his eyes on you with every move you make. They watch how your breasts bounce when freed from their confines. They admire the curve of your ass when you bend over. They glimmer with smug satisfaction as you stand there nude before him.

"I'll tell you what. I never get sick of seeing this," he teases.

You offer a weak smile in return. The lack of energy almost seems to please him more.

He walks around to stand behind you, giving you a light pat on the ass as he does. His hands land on your hips first and then slide up to cup your breasts. He pulls you back, positioning you flush against his chest.

"You know I'd keep you like this all the time if I could," he murmurs in your ear, "Sweet and ready for me. Ripe for the pickin' whenever I felt the need."

The deep, gravelly rumble of it seems to trigger a flicker of heat in your lower belly on instinct, and you despise yourself for it. Shame burns so hot in your heart, it threatens to take the nausea you felt earlier into a full on dry heave. You're glad there's not a mirror in front of you. It's easier to keep a docile look plastered on your face when you don't have to stare yourself in the eyes.

The rough pads of his fingertips pinch and tweak your nipples, causing you to squirm a bit where you're standing, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of a noise. You can feel the warmth of his breath fanning across your neck.

You choose not to say anything to his last statement. There's no guarantee that he hasn't actually considered that, and you don't want to find out. Displaying you in that way in front of everyone doesn't seem like his style, but back when he had you lined up on your knees with the rest of your group, you wouldn't have imagined yourself ever calling him daddy either.

As you'd quickly learned in regards to most things around here, the risk just isn't worth it.

"I'd never do that to you though. Don't think anyone could keep their hands off if they saw all of you, and I just can't have that," he whispers, calming your fears for you. He pulls his hands away from your breasts and steps back to grab the pieces he'd be putting you in today.

He starts with panties. This pair is pink and ruffly just like the last. You step into it with rehearsed timing. One foot then the next. He slides them up to your hips and lets the elastic snap into place against your skin.

You had no clue where he got this shit. You didn't want to believe that his hold on his men was so strong that they'd waste an entire supply run raiding a Victoria's Secret, especially for women they never even got to touch.

It wasn't worth thinking about though. It's not like discovering the origins would spare you from wearing the damn things every day.

Next, Negan shakes the wrinkles out of your dress. You step into that too, just like you did with the underwear. Looking down, you catch a glimpse of the garment.

It's just as humiliating as all the rest he makes you wear. The fabric is bright white and baby pink. Like everything else, you have no idea how it was kept so pristine. The waist is accentuated with a pretty pink ribbon wrapped around it, tied into a large bow at the front. It's extra tight up top and melts into a puffy skirt down below.

He shimmies it over your body and yanks the zipper up in back. The dress conforms to the shape of your figure, leaving little to the imagination in terms of how much the neckline shows and how high the hem of the skirt sits.

Spinning you around, he whistles when he gets the full picture.

"Good God Almighty. Pretty as a picture," he praises, reaching out to pinch your cheek.

Again, you force yourself to smile.

He'd already dressed himself for the day before getting you up, so the rest of the time before you leave the room is spent working through the remnants of your morning routine. He takes you into the bathroom connected to his room to brush your teeth and do your hair.

"Say ah, sweetheart," he smirks before jamming the brush into your mouth.

He's not careful or attentive. He only does it long enough to let the weight of humiliation settle in your stomach. It's always obvious when it kicks in. You get this look on your face like that of an abandoned puppy. Only then does he let you spit and move on to the next task.

He styles your hair into something cute, though you hate it anyway. Like the dress, it's only intended to make you stick out. To draw attention to your status as his possession.

The last thing he does is put your socks and shoes on. Your feet get covered in a pair of frilly ankle socks before he slips a pair of chunky sneakers on you. At least if this place got overrun and you had to bolt, you wouldn't be totally fucked.

"You ready to go, honey?" he asks you when the first part of your torture has finally come to a conclusion.

Again, you nod while looking up at him.

He grins at you. "You're quiet today," he says.

"Sorry, daddy," you respond. The way he said it sounded like teasing, but you could never be too careful.

"Don't be. I like it," he says.

You don't know how he does it, how he deflates you so easily without even trying.

He turns and grabs that stupid bat he carries everywhere, swinging it to his side before facing you again and sticking out his hand.

"Got my two favorite girls, now we're really ready to go," he says. He gestures with his fingers. A small impatient reminder. "You know the rules."

Of course you know what he's referring to. Always hold daddy's hand when you leave the bedroom. One of the rules he'd prattled off to you when he first brought you here.

You reach out and take his outstretched hand, earning a kiss to your head.

The way he'd been holding his arm caused the leather sleeve of his jacket to ride up a bit. Beneath the stiff fabric, you could see the fading scar you'd given him around the same time you'd been informed of the rules. Two crescent shaped marks in the pattern of your teeth.

You can barely stand to look at it now. All it does is bring back memories of when you still held hope for escape or rescue. Back then, you'd thought it'd only be a matter of days until Rick or Michonne burst into the small bedroom they were keeping you in.

The day you'd sunk your teeth into him, he'd just finished giving you one of his speeches about your new life at the Sanctuary. According to him, you'd be so much happier here. Sure you couldn't see your family, but now you had someone better than them. You had him. And he would spoil and take care of a pretty thing like you in the way you deserved. Show off to the rest of your old group how generous he could be.

He'd reached forward to pinch your cheek just like he'd done earlier today. You wanted to smack him away, but he had your hands bound. So you did the next thing you could think of and bit him. Hard.

His eyes burned with fury you hadn't seen since. You can still hear in your mind the way he yelled, shouting "Goddamn it" so loud that the walkers out at the fence probably heard.

After that was a bit hazy. He'd snatched that limb away from you before bringing it back and striking you hard across the cheek. You'd nearly fallen off the bed from the force.

"You little bitch, you try some shit like that again, and I'll knock your fucking jaw loose," he growled before yanking you up right and forcing you to look at him.

Involuntary tears leaked from your eyes as you glared up at his face. Blood oozed from the stinging wound you could feel inside your mouth.

That cut had healed by now though.

You squeeze his hand harder while walking down the hall out of his room. Even though it was the hand that struck you, it was the only thing you had to hold onto now. 

Your brain tries to compartmentalize him nowadays. There's Negan, and there's daddy. Negan is the one who gets mean. Negan is the one who yells. Negan is the one who killed your friends. Daddy is the one who cares for you. He keeps you safe and healthy. He'd never hurt you like that. You didn't think you'd survive with a shred of sanity without that distinction.

He feels your little grip and squeezes your hand in return. That's what daddy does.

You stay close to his side as he guides you on the walkway that looks down on the commotion of the main room. Even after what you guessed had been a couple months, if not more, you still didn't like this place. Everything was so transactional. No one cared about each other. It was all about what everyone had to offer. That was by design of course, but it didn't make you any less critical of it.

Your eyes scan the clusters of people below. Although you weren't allowed to socialize on your own, you were starting to get a grasp on the cliques here. Negan's closest advisors all seemed to amalgamate in one area, spare the guy with the burnt face. The table closest to the window was where most of the soldiers ate while the one by the door seated the workers.

You weren't completely sure what class you fit into here.

The most obvious guess would be the group you're about to encounter, Negan's wives. But there are stark differences between you and them that prevent you from feeling camaraderie.

The two of you approach the room where he keeps this group of women. He maintains a tight grip on your hand as you slip through the doors. The disparities between you and the others become obvious as soon as you're within a few feet of them.

All of these women get to dress in black. They stand tall in heels, have earrings dangling next to their faces, and for some, a red tint painting their lips. All of them get to openly glare at him. They don't have to hide their hatred behind a feigned smile or soft laugh.

You know it isn't right to be jealous of them. They're suffering too. This isn't a happy situation for them either. But god, you can't help it. Envy nearly sears a hole through your heart every time you come into this room. What you wouldn't give to be one of them. To be allowed to drink and talk with other people. To not be under the constant threat of punishment.

Despite all these thoughts swirling through your head, you manage to keep your mask on. A simple, thoughtless look on your features as you stand next to him like an oversized accessory.

He looks down at you before dropping your hand.

"Stay right here for me, sweet thing. Daddy's only gonna take a minute," he says.

He stalks off to the back corner of the room with a woman you'd come to learn is named Sherry. They speak in hushed tones, so you can't make out what they're saying. You figure it's about one of the girls sneaking around with some other guy. That's what it's usually about when he makes a stop here with you in tow. Even with their status elevated above yours, they don't get to escape the wrath of his possessiveness.

You stand there awkwardly, arms crossed over your midsection while your weight shifts between your feet. No one tries to talk to you. You can feel their eyes on your pastel form, but their gazes don't hold curiosity or interest. It's pity.

In the beginning, you thought they were looking at you with jealousy. After all, you got your own cell and then graduated to Negan's bedroom while they had to share amenities.

But they weren't naive like you had been. None of them wanted Negan's attention. They didn't want to be his pet or his dolly or whatever the fuck he would classify you as. They had each other, and they got to share the load between all of them.

You sigh quietly and look down at the sparkly trim of your white sneakers.

He finishes his conversation with Sherry and then migrates across the room towards a blonde, crying girl. They speak at the same volume as him and Sherry. It's not worth trying to eavesdrop on.

Instead, you patiently wait the couple minutes it takes for them to finish up and for him to return to you. When he walks back over, you can tell the discussion hadn't been a positive one. His shoulders seem weighed down by whatever information he'd gathered from them.

But the dark cloud above him fades away as his hand slips back into yours. He leads you out of the room just as you'd come in and continues walking with you.

You hesitate but decide to try. "Are you ok?" you ask softly.

His head turns slightly to cast you a look. For a moment, it seems the daddy act has fallen away. He looks at you like he would any other woman who asked him that. Cold. Analytical. But the persona makes its reappearance seconds later as he pulls on a smirk for you.

"Just fine, honey. You don't gotta worry about me," he answers.

You know you should just nod and shut up, but it drives you crazy being led around like a child expected to be seen and not heard. So you decide to try again.

"Did they do something bad?" you ask. You hate how weak your voice comes out. There's no spark to it, no bite or sharp edge. All of that, he'd extinguished in you.

He drops your hand and drapes his arm over your shoulders, pulling you to his side.

"What are you so curious for, huh? You know something about it?" he responds.

You shake your head. Your arm rises and wraps around his torso.

"No. I just don't like when you're upset," you say. You lean your head into his chest to really sell it.

"Oh-ho, look at you. Turning on the charm," he chuckles, "I am just fine, sugar. I swear it. Sometimes those girls give me trouble, but it's nothing I can't handle."

You decide to just take it and nod this time. 

He looks at you with satisfaction. "They can't all be like you, y'know? So well-behaved," he praises.

The compliment makes your blood curdle. You couldn't stand that he would act like obedience was your defining trait.

When you were with your group - your family more like -  you would never have been described as obedient. Whether at the prison or Alexandria, it felt like every other day you were sneaking off to try something. You were always quick to spring into action, never the type to let someone belittle you. Rick got on your ass about deviating from plans in spurs of emotion more than anyone else. Maybe that's how you wound up here.

You had tried to stop them from taking Daryl. On that dark night in the woods, surrounded by the ring of headlights, you had tried. You didn't rush at Negan like your friend. Not wanting someone else to get their head bashed in, you were more subtle than that. But you attempted to get in the way of the guys carting him off. That's what landed you here. Tucked under his arm, the very weapon that took away two people you love swinging a foot away from you.

But you swallow down all of this rage and nod again. You nuzzle into his chest, a way to conceal the tightening sensation in your throat and the sting of tears at your waterline.

This is the worst part about Negan, you decide. The way he makes you act like you want it.

From your first day here, he made sure to tell you over and over how he's staunchly against rape. He's not a monster. He's not that kind of guy. No, no. You are a prisoner, so yes, technically here against your will, but never in a million years would he violate you in that way.

And he'd stuck true to that. Whenever you screamed or cried or yelled "no" on a loop until he shook you around like a bobble head, he always backed off of his advances. He never copped a feel or slid a wandering hand in your panties while you slept, never held you down or physically forced himself on you.

Instead, he broke you down until saying yes seemed like the only sane option.

You didn't want his affection? That meant you must not want to talk to anyone at all. For days. You didn't want to sit in his lap? Maybe you'd prefer kneeling by his feet for a week, in private and around everyone else. You didn't want to sleep in his bed? Fine. You could sleep on the concrete floor without a pillow or blanket while the heat was out.

You reflect on all of this as the two of you trot through the boxy halls. He takes you around on all his errands for the day. You stop by the doctor's office, inventory, and Dwight's room. All over the place. You stay quiet the whole time. busying yourself with your thoughts as you stay attached to him.

Everyday the line between survival and free will becomes blurrier. You tell yourself that you have to be like this with him. You'll be worse off if you don't act the part of the sweet, adoring girl he wants. But then sometimes you wonder if you truly are becoming obedient. Like a wildcat tamed into a lazy house pet. You almost never resist his touch anymore. You even go to him for comfort sometimes.

The idea kills you, so you deem it best not to think about for now.

Rather, you focus on guessing what the rest of the day would hold. It's already the afternoon by now. The sun hangs low by the tree line, shimmering into the Sanctuary through the rectangular windows across the walls. He wouldn't have a meeting with the lieutenants today. Those were almost always around lunch time. You didn't think he'd spend it with one of his wives either. If that was the case, he usually gave you a heads up in the morning.

The most likely possibility you come up with is the dilemma from earlier. You had never been invited to see the culmination of those though. Normally, he kept you safe and sound in his room while he tended to matters like that, ready to provide him some stress relief when he finished.

But things can always change, and now it seems like that's the case.

He guides you back into the main room. A crowd has gathered down below. You can't see the center point of their conglomeration. All you can sense are the nerves vibrating between everyone.

Their feet shuffle around on the hard concrete flooring. They look between each other with anxious eyes. Hushed chatter clouds the area until you and Negan begin to descend the stairs. That's when they all go quiet. Mouths close and pupils snap to the position of their leader.

You look down to lessen the ache of humiliation that came with accompanying the center of attention. The few times you had scanned the crowd for others' reactions, seeing if you could find a sympathetic gaze or outraged expression, all you found was animosity. The male workers and soldiers leered at you. They smiled and smirked, visibly amused by your girly outfits and docile disposition. On the other side of the aisle, the women glared, taking in the details of your appearance with disgust, like somehow it was your fault you got toted around like this.

His voice booms out to his audience as he takes step after step towards them.

"You all know what we're here for today," he starts, "We got simple rules 'round here, but some people still seem to have trouble following 'em."

Your hand stays linked with his as the two of you reach the landing.

"Watch your step, babydoll," he murmurs to you before continuing his speech. Your cheeks burn with shame.

"It feels like I'm doing this every other month. It's getting ridiculous," he lectures, "I don't like having to be so harsh. Truly, I don't. But rules are rules, and I don't know how I can make myself any clearer. They are not optional."

He walks further into the room with you. Being level with everyone else, you can see more of what's happening. They're gathered around a furnace. Dwight stands near the opening to the flames, clearly preparing something. Another man sits a few feet away. Over in the corner, the woman from earlier is looking at him and crying.

Looks like your guess was correct.

"So we're gonna do this again. Hopefully it's the last time," he concludes.

The crowd parts as you and him head towards the center of the room. He leads you over to an empty spot near the wall. Dropping your hand, he cups your jaw and makes you look him in the eyes.

"Stay right here for me. Daddy'll be right back," he says.

You nod and then watch as he turns away, waltzing over to where Dwight stands.

While your eyes are up, they can't help but catch on somebody familiar standing at the front of the crowd.

Daryl.

Your heart stutters, and you can see on his face that his does too. He looks worn down. Eyes dimmed and face hollowed. His clothes, dirty and ill-fitting. You start to feel tears pricking at your waterline from the sight. You weren't the only one they'd broken down.

In him, you find the compassion you'd been searching for. The look that told you at least one person here didn't take enjoyment from your suffering. But it comes from someone who truly can't help you. Who's in a situation as bad as your own.

You sniffle and try to wipe away any beginning tears before Negan or someone who would tell him notices.

The loud creak of a metal door opening drags your attention to the furnace though. You watch as Dwight pulls out the item he'd been preparing. A burning, metal iron becomes the new focus of everyone in the room.

Upon seeing the small object, so many things connect in your head. You know what's going to happen. You realize why Dwight's face is scarred. You understand why that woman is crying. And you know no one is going to stop any of this now or in the future.

Your heart pounds harder, and your breaths become shaky. Tears blur your vision further. You dig your nails into your palm to try and ground yourself, but it doesn't help. The scene in front of you has whipped your mind into a frenzy. You haven't felt this bad since the early weeks of being in this place.

This stupid fucking place. You hate it. You hate how cruel it is here. How disconnected and lifeless everything feels. You hate him for being the only one allowed to really live. You hate everyone else here for letting him get this powerful.

It's a complete spiral whirlpooling in your mind, only made worse by the fact that you have to keep it contained. You try to tell yourself you just have to wait it out. This couldn't take more than five minutes and then you could go back to the bedroom. You'd be ok. You could take off this itchy dress and put your hair back to how you like it. You could kick off these shoes and hide yourself beneath the warm blankets. None of these people would be around, all you'd have is the quiet between those walls where daddy could make it all better.

As you're in the process of mentally talking yourself down, Negan takes hold of the iron. To free up his hands, he offers Lucille off to someone nearby. Your eyes follow his leather-clad limb to the neck of the bat and then up to its new handler. You see Simon.

You have to look down now. If you don't, everyone here will see the look of pure terror on your face. You close your eyes and rein in whimpers that threaten to spill from your lips. Everything feels fuzzy around you, intangible and like your hands would drift right through them. Your head heats up, the sensation making you dizzy. You try to steady yourself by leaning back against the wall, but the cool, flat surface does little to ease your nerves.

It does even less when you hear his voice closing in on you.

"Hey there, princess," he starts, voice laced with mockery, "You feeling alright?"

You're not looking at him, but the image of his stupid face projects with HD clarity in your mind. You swallow hard and nod.

Laughing lowly, he comes to stand beside you. "You sure about that? You're looking kind of lightheaded," he taunts.

"I'm fine," you choke out.

His hand darts up and grabs your jaw. He doesn't gently guide your eyes where he wants them to look. He yanks your face in his direction like an unruly child with a doll.

"I don't know about that. You're looking kind of rough," he says while glaring down at you with those ruthless eyes, "Maybe I should take you over to the doctor's. We both know Negan wants his favorite toy kept in good condition."

Your entire body vibrates with hatred for this creature. Every breath you take acts as an effort of restraint, a way to lull yourself into not ripping out what hair he has left.

You didn't just despise Simon because he's an asshole or because he was the person harassing your group leading up to that horrible night you were taken. Your aversion for him stems from experiences entirely your own.

A few days after the biting incident, you had tried getting physical with Negan one more time. You'd managed to worm one of your wrists out of your restraints, and instead of aiming for escape, you decided revenge held a higher priority. You waited for him to come check on you, keeping your arm tucked to your body as if it was still bound.

When he finally came in, you sat there and took the speech, took the condescension, and took the promises that you would conform. And then he leaned a bit closer. That's when you backhanded him as hard as he had you the few days prior.

After the hit landed, you lunged forward and tried to wrap the rope connected to you around his neck. You pulled as hard as you could, and for a moment, you thought you had won.

But wrangling you off was easier than you anticipated. They hadn't been allowing you much food or sleep, so the strike took most of your energy. It only took him a handful of seconds to snake his hand under the rope and then pry your arms away.

He stood up and slammed you into the wall with his hand around your throat. In that moment, he didn't look at you with the same fury he had before. This time around, frustration dominated his gaze.

"Was that fun for you?" he asked.

You didn't answer. Your chest puffed with exertion while your eyes stared daggers into him.

"What did I tell you last time? What did I fucking tell you?" he asked. Despite the look in his eye being less volatile, his tone of voice was dangerous as ever. "I told you I would knock that jaw of yours loose. That's what I said, and I meant it. I don't want you thinking I didn't. But I'm not gonna do that right now because I don't think it would work, and I'm not one to waste my own time."

Internally, pride swelled in your chest, thinking you had called his bluff. But then he kept speaking.

"I have a bad feeling that if I struck some sense into you that you'd just try to strike it into me right back, and I can't have that. That's just not gonna fly around here," he said, "So I'll tell you what: I have a better idea. You don't wanna play with daddy? Then you can spend a weekend with your Uncle Simon. See how much fun he can be."

Back then, you didn't know Simon as the right hand man. You didn't have his name and face connected yet. Now, you wished you could go back to that state of mind.

You were with him for three days while Negan did a tour of the outposts and subjugated communities. Only 72 hours. But an hour of him would have been enough to scare you for a lifetime.

When he first came into the room, you didn't get the feeling that him and Negan would handle you so differently. You could tell from the way he looked at you that, like his boss, he looked at you as something to toy with. A source of amusement. The difference, you soon found out, was how they played with their toys.

Unlike daddy, Simon didn't talk just to talk. He didn't warn you of future spankings or timeouts. He hit. And he kicked. And he shoved you down and tossed you around. He didn't offer the same condolences daddy did, there was no "this hurts me more than it hurts you." Nothing he did even bothered Simon. He watched you hurt, and he enjoyed it.

You didn't even get a reward once you'd settled down. Your attitude had disappeared almost instantly. Having the wind knocked out of you once was enough for you to become more amicable, but your change in demeanor didn't phase him. It wasn't his goal.

The only rules Negan left him with were the basic ones for the Sanctuary along with no killing you or causing permanent damage. But that didn't mean he couldn't threaten you with breaking them. He went on and on during the down periods where you cowered in the corner or huddled against the wall of your bedroom cell, telling you stories of how he went rogue before. Any horrible thing he could think of, he dangled in front of you as a potential fate.

When Negan finally came back, you eagerly awaited him. Despite your sleep deprived and bruised condition, your eyes stayed locked on the door like a puppy expecting their master. For the next week, you latched onto him. Didn't want to leave his side. He had made his point. You could hate him as much as you wanted but leave you alone with Simon for a little while, and you'd beg for him back.

That's how you feel right now, staring up into Simon's eyes while he holds your jaw. The pressure his fingers put on your cheeks serve as a reminder of the pain he can inflict while his other hand holding the bat twirls the weapon near your calf. As much as you had been internally preaching your hatred for everything to do with Negan minutes ago, all you want to do now is run into his arms.

You feel more tears wanting to slip down your cheeks, but you try your best to hold them in. The more you cry, the more I like it. That's what he'd told you more than once over those three days.

"Just leave me alone," you tell him. You try to sound as firm as possible, but even your own ears catch the way your voice quivers. "Negan wouldn't like you talking over him."

Your attempt at taking a stand falls flat. He doesn't back off any, rather, he leans in closer.

"Negan, huh? Are you even allowed to call him that?" he mocks and feigns a pout. 

"Just shut up!" you say. You mean it as a threat; though, it hits his ears like a plea. More hot panic rushes down your spine from the stress of having to remain quiet while also trying to be assertive.

His lips flatten into a line before he continues speaking. "Your head's getting too big for those shoulders, little girl. You better watch your attitude, or I might have to suggest you're due for some more correction," he mutters.

A loud scream rips the two of you from your conversation. He drops his hand from your face, and you both straighten up against the wall. Negan stands in the center of the room, pressing the blazing iron to the side of the man's face.

He wails until he passes out, and that's when his leader peels away the device of torture. Sticky skin goes with it before snapping back against his face like a rubber band. You grimace, your stomach twisting at the sight. You'd seen so much blood and guts over the years of living out on the road and fighting with other groups, but melted skin was a new one.

Negan turns to Dwight and gives him the iron back. You breathe an involuntary sigh of relief, subconsciously soothed by the thought of him returning to your side.

The reprieve ends suddenly though when a small, sharp pain slices along the meat of your calf. You whimper and lift your leg away on instinct. Looking for the source, you see the bat twirling from the motion of Simon's wrist. One of the barbs had caught your skin. Your eyes flit up to him.

"Watch out!" you say. The old you would have been seething. She would have pulled out her pocket knife and given him a little receipt for the cut. But now, you watch him with fearful eyes, trying to gauge whether or not you would get in trouble for calling him an asshole.

"Remember what I said," he tells you quietly as a trickle of red runs down to the lacy frills of your sock.

Before you can respond, a warm hand lands on the small of your back. Your head turns to find Negan smiling down at you.

"What's with the long face, sugar? Simon bothering you?" he asks, clearly not meaning it seriously even though to you it is exactly that.

You part your lips to answer, but Simon beats you to it.

"Bothering her? C'mon. I'm just checking up on her. She looked a little dizzy, so I offered to take her to the doctor's," he says, light as ever, "I'm just watching out for her, y'know? Sweet thing like her will get eaten alive here if she's not careful."

Negan raises his eyebrows, and for a second, you think he's about to take your side. But then he just chuckles and shakes his head. 

"She's doing just fine. That was her first time seeing one of those, so she's probably a little shaken up," he says, rubbing your arm.

"Hm... Sounds about right," Simon replies, "I know that's not how her little group did things."

"Yeah. So I'll get her back to the room. Think you can handle shit down here?" he says, gesturing around to the dispersing crowd.

"Always," Simon says with a mock salute. He then hands Lucille back.

Finally, you find some relief, some true sanctuary as Simon walks away. Your body physically relaxes. Negan feels it underneath his arm and spares you a glance as the two of you walk back up the stairs.

"Is something wrong?" he asks.

You want to just take the easy route and say no, to play along with this sadistic charade and not cause any trouble. But you can't get the single syllable out. It feels impossible to even shake your head. Even though Simon's gone, the weight of everything that happened still remains along with the stinging in your leg.

Your throat feels tight, and your eyes feel like they're two seconds from overflowing. The lights suddenly seem too bright, and everyone here is too loud. You can't show him that though. You don't want more correction. You don't want someone to like it when you cry. But you can't ignore him either. That would be the worst thing to do.

All you manage in response is a shaky shrug. You let out a broken sigh with it and lean into his chest. The tension in your shoulders returns as you fight to keep the tears from leaking out against the worn leather.

At first, he doesn't say anything, and the two of you keep walking. Your steps remain in time with his as you traverse the walkway and around the corner. Then the two of you come to a stop when you're out of sight. He turns you by your shoulders, holding you in front of him so that you can't shy away.

"I got one more thing to attend to out by the fence. Think you can handle that?" he asks.

Your heart pulses to an uneven rhythm, trying to decide what to do without devolving into pure panic. You bite your lip as you mull your options over. Say yes and go with him. Then inevitably fail to contain yourself and get in trouble. Or, say no now and risk punishment for being defiant. You're not sure which one will end up worse.

"Can... can we just go back to the room?" you ask. Your voice comes out weak as if every word siphons a drop of energy from you.

He eyes you with uncertainty of his own; though, there's no fear in his look. His gaze is careful, an attempt to decipher if this is some kind of deception. You'd been pretty well-behaved as of late, but one bad day could take even the most obedient pet to a rabid dog, jaws primed to gnash.

But you didn't really have a reason to lie. The bedroom with him would provide the least likely chance at escape, and in the condition you were in now, you didn't seem to be planning an attack.

Slowly, he nods. "Sure, honey. I'll have Arat handle the other shit," he tells you before leading you in the direction of his bedroom.

The words he mumbles through his radio sound distant to you. You watch your legs switch between one and the other as you walk. On your right, you see the small red splotch staining the pristine cloth of your sock.

Before you know it, he's pushing open the bedroom door and bringing you inside. It then closes behind you, creating a barrier between you and everything else out there. It gets a little easier to breathe.

He guides you the few steps over to the edge of the bed and sits down, pulling you onto his lap. You feel his eyes scanning over you in an attempt to figure out the problem without asking. His hand rubs up and down your back over the crinkly fabric of your dress. His other palm focuses on your legs, coasting over your knees and the area of your thighs the skirt doesn't cover.

The code is harder for him to crack than usual. Normally when you got upset, it resulted from something he said. And he knows that because, usually, that's his intention. It was always either that or you'd just generally be feeling down, missing your home. But that doesn't seem to be the case right now. You seem more antsy than your normal bouts of sadness. He doesn't think it was from watching the spectacle downstairs. He knows you hate the saviors indiscriminately. Watching some random guy's face melt off wouldn't have you this upset. Finally, he relents.

"What's wrong?" he asks. He actually makes an effort not to sound like he'll make fun of whatever your answer may be.

"I just don't feel good," you choke out and bite your lip.

He feels you shudder on his lap, and he knows it's not the full truth. Pulling you a little closer on his thighs, he continues to look down at you.

"C'mon, baby. Tell daddy what hurts," he coaxes.

Your face tenses, but you know he won't drop this. "Just... just... I don't know. A lotta stuff," you say. You couldn't decide on a lie to commit to.

He sighs and bounces his leg with you on it a few times. "Did someone say something to you? Was someone bothering you?" he asks as his scope of potential causes narrow.

You're in the middle of trying to think of a cover story when his hand glides down to remove your shoes. He knocks one off. Then the other. The foamy white sneakers clatter to the ground next to his foot.

He goes to bring his hand back up, dragging it over the fine threading of your socks, but his eyes catch on the bloody splotches near the edge. Grabbing your ankle, he tugs your limb upward. It puts you at an awkward angle and nearly knocks you from your perch on his thigh. He stares the small wound down, assessing every detail of the tiny scrape.

"How'd you get this?" he asks. He looks over to you.

In reality, it may have been the most standard question in the world. But it hits your ears like an accusation and brings a fresh wave of tears that you can't control. Your lip quivers as your lids blink a few droplets over your water line.

"Simon did it," you weep.

You're scared he won't believe you, but after a few seconds, he drops your foot and pulls you close. His arms wrap around you tight and keep you flush against his chest. The warmth of the embrace encompasses you. You let the dam burst and cry into him, pouring all your sadness out against his body.

His hand sweeps up and down your back in comforting strokes. "Shh, shh, shh, sweetheart. Daddy's got you," he murmurs.

You feel him shrug off his jacket and push it aside, leaving the plain material of his t-shirt to soak up your anguish. He keeps you as close as possible. One of his hands cradles the back of your head to ensure you don't pull away.

"Does Simon bother you a lot?" he asks.

You nod. "Whenever I'm not with you," you choke out.

He hums in acknowledgement. "I'll talk to him. He's not supposed to hurt you when you're being such a good girl for daddy."

"I was trying really hard," you sob, your voice cracking, "I've been trying to be good. But he just hates me anyway. He's so mean to me."

Your arms snake around him as tight as a pair of snakes aiming to kill. You cling to him with everything you have, as if he's your one true savior from this living hell and not the cause of it.

In your head, you feel like you're annoying him. He's probably waiting for you to calm down, so he can nip this blossom of resentment in the bud. Good girls don't have tantrums or meltdowns, right? And all he cares about is that you act the part of a good girl.

But you only think all of that because you can't see the smile on his face right now.

He's grinning more than any of the times he got you to say something humiliating or cooperate with a punishment. The look he displays now reaches a new level of smugness, higher than the night he killed two of your people and traumatized the rest of them. His satisfaction runs deeper this time because right now, you're truly broken.

This isn't something you agreed to because the other option was worse. It's not something he had to coach you into or manipulate a situation into becoming. You did this all on your own. You came to him. Sure, he had to coax it out of you a little bit, but once he got his foot in the door, you let him right in. You're clinging to him for comfort, looking to him for a solution. He couldn't be more pleased. This is exactly what he wanted - to break you down. Now he just had to reel you back in the slightest bit, get you in that perfect middle ground between too independent and non-functioning.

"You have been doing really good for me, y'know? I'm proud of you, baby," he tells you in the most earnest tone he can manage, "Don't worry about Simon for right now, ok? Daddy's gonna set him straight. He won't bother you again."

You nod, but the reassurance doesn't stop the flow of tears from your eyes. Your fingers stay clenched around the fabric of his shirt.

"No more tears, honey, c'mon," he coos. He pries your limbs from around him and boosts you to your feet, standing you between his thighs. "I'll take care of it just like I take care of you. Let's just worry about what my little baby needs to feel better right now."

You take a few seconds to think about it, but the answer comes with relative ease. The most agitating thing about this situation right now is wrapped all around you, scratching at your sides and digging in under your arms.

"Can you take my dress off?" you sniffle.

His eyes fall from your face over your body. "What? You don't like this pretty little number?" he teases.

For once, you don't feel like you're two seconds away from punishment. You feel like it's a joke, and you don't have to awkwardly straddle the line between playing along with the humor and submitting to the literal interpretation.

"It's ok... it's just kinda scratchy," you say and wipe away your tears with the back of your hand.

"Spin around for me then. We'll get it off you. Can't have it irritatin' that soft skin while you're tryin' to relax."

You take the few steps to turn around. His fingers grasp the zipper and undo the baby pink prison you'd been trapped in for the day. Feeling the chafing fabric pulled away from you lets you take a real breath for the first time in hours. Already a small bit of relief. It only compounds when the garment hits the floor and pools at your feet.

He tugs you back by the waist and lays you across the bed, body on full display for him. Right now, you don't mind his gaze tracking your curves. He leans over you, his hands coasting from the sides of your breasts down to your hips.

"You're prettier like this anyways, princess," he praises.

"Thank you, daddy." It spills out as naturally as water from a faucet.

He rewards you with his lips on your stomach instead of words. Kissing the smooth, warm skin, his lips travel from just above your navel to the divot between your breasts. Your nipples rise to attention automatically.

His hands slide up to cup your mounds of flesh. He fondles and gropes them as his lips migrate up the curves to the hardening little peaks. They don't latch on just yet. He teases them with kisses instead, letting the anticipation of blissful suction build.

You take your lip between your teeth as you watch him. Chills break out across the rest of your body. You know you should be fighting. You know you should kick and scream and cry. You should try to take advantage of his closeness and get towards your revenge. But in your hellish life, are you not allowed one moment of pleasure? You haven't let those plans of escape and vengeance go, but you want this right now. You want to feel good, and he gives you that. 

This isn't Negan. This is daddy. And you don't wanna hurt daddy.

His tongue peeks out from between his lips to trace wet circles around your nipple. The sensation draws a whine from you. Your body squirms beneath him with an eagerness to feel more.

"I think I know how to make you feel better. Take your mind off all that stuff from before," he whispers.

He takes one of your nipples between his lips, flicking the bud with the tip of his tongue and scraping his teeth against the sensitive area. You reward the choice with a mewl and squirm your legs. He chuckles and then switches to the other one.

"That feel good?" he asks.

You nod, your head tilting back and your eyes fluttering.

Grinning, he continues his work on your chest. You whine and squirm for him, giving him all the reactions he craves. Soon, his hand ghosts up your inner thigh. His fingertips drag over the flesh and land on your clothed center. Through the thin pink cloth, he rubs at your clit. That garners a breathy moan and a full body shudder.

"Goddamn, you are so cute," he chuckles, "Just a few little touches and you squirm around like a virgin for me."

Heat floods your cheeks, but you don't bother disputing the claim. It was the truth. You weren't sure what it was about him that got you so amped up and needy.

The pad of his middle finger swirls around the little nub in your panties. He can already feel the fabric getting sticky from the wetness between your thighs.

"Poor baby. You're so easy to play with," he says.

His mouth leaves your breasts now and begins to retrace its path down your stomach. It glides over your skin with open-mouthed kisses all the way down to the hem of your underwear. His fingers fall away from your center to your dismay.

Your disappointment is short lived though. You feel him position your thighs on his shoulders. When you look down, his eyes are staring right back up at you, gleaming like that of a panther ready to pounce.

"You want daddy's mouth on you? Will that help you feel better?" he rasps.

You nod quickly. "Please, daddy," you whimper.

"So polite. You didn't even need me to remind you of your manners," he smirks.

You don't even care about that remark. It washes right over you. All your mind is concerned with right now is getting more of his touch.

He brings his index finger back between your legs. He hooks it beneath the soaked seat of your panties, pulling it to the side and revealing your slick folds to him. The thumb on his opposite hand comes up to rub over the length of your slit up to your clit. Back and forth, nice and slow, just to tease you.

Your hips writhe the slightest bit, and he nips the skin of your inner thigh.

"Tsk. You know good girls are patient. They don't wriggle around. I've taught you better than that," he chides.

"Sorry," you say, backing down quickly.

"It's alright. I know you're having a rough day, so I'll let it slide this time," he says. He then leans in to lay some kisses on your clit.

Your eyes roll back and your toes curl. He never let things slide. This must have been a miracle. The same man who always toted that the rules weren't optional, letting you bypass one? Maybe you were his favorite. That's what you took it as anyways.

He makes out with your cunt like it's the prettiest thing he's ever seen. His lips engulf it, spreading his affection from your little bundle of nerves all the way down, nearly reaching your puckered entrance below. You whine and clutch at the bedsheets. You were still too scared to grab his hair. You weren't sure if he'd like it and groan or glare at you in a way that said you'd pay for it later.

It doesn't matter to you right now though. What you hold isn't important when you feel this good. It feels like a firework show is erupting in your belly, bright bursts of all different colors. Your heels dig into his back, subconsciously keeping him buried between your thighs.

He's tempted to tear your panties off and fling them aside. He would if not for the limited number in his possession. If this was normal life, he'd rip a pair to shreds on a weekly basis. These things were so cute when he put them on, but when he wanted at you, he despised them. If this was normal life, he'd just buy you new ones whenever a tattered one had to be tossed. But then again, if this was normal life, he wouldn't have you at all, so it isn't really worth thinking about.

Refocusing his mind on your pleasure, he dives further into your cunt. His nose bumps your clit as his tongue fucks into you. He pushes it in a few times before pulling back and just lapping at your pussy in broad strokes, getting every drop of you he can. Two of his fingers prod at your entrance before slipping in. They fuck deeper than his tongue, but don't stretch you out like his cock. A happy medium to walk the steps of preparation.

He maneuvers his digits with expert precision, scissoring and curling them at the perfect intervals. You can't help the way your hips buck in response. He doesn't get on you about it though. He just wraps your arms around his hips and holds you in place.

Your thighs squeeze around his head too. Luckily, that wasn't against the rules. He loved feeling the heat of your plush legs wrapped around his skull, keeping him close.

He pumps his fingers faster, curling them right against that spot that got you to squeal and cry out his name.

"Cum for me, babydoll. All over my face. I wanna feel it," he rasps.

It's a fortunate coincidence he gives you that command because you were about two swipes of his tongue away from doing it on your own. You melt against the bed, eyes fluttering and body jerking and quivering as rushes of pleasure sweep through you.

Your fingers grip the blankets so tight they threaten to tear into them, but then they loosen completely and go lax next to your hips. He licks your cunt through the entire thing, not letting you come down until the euphoria has thoroughly washed through you.

While you're lying there, dazed and blissed out, he untangles himself from your legs and stands at the edge of the bed. He wipes your nectar from his facial hair before pulling his shirt over his head and unzipping his pants.

"I think daddy deserves a little reward for making you feel so good, pretty girl. What do you say?" he asks.

Of course, you nod. There was no way you would reject him while still so close to the high of your last release. He grins at your hazy movement and shoves down his pants, jerking his cock a few times and crawling on the bed to hover over you.

"You're such a good girl for me. Better than I ever thought you'd be," he says while looking down at your face.

"Wanna be good for you, daddy," you say softly, blinking at him with your misty doe eyes.

His grin spreads even wider. In your sane mind, you probably would have thought it looked like some creature out of hell. But right now, the look just makes you giggle and squirm.

Down below, he lines up at your entrance. He slides his tip through your arousal a few times, getting it nice and wet before he sinks in. A smile of your own rises on your face, and he groans at the deep satisfaction of having your cunt embrace him so readily.

"Perfect little pussy, fuck," he grunts, "Think it's the best I've ever had."

You preen at that compliment. He balances his forearms on each side of your head as he begins to thrust. Your legs rise up and lazily wrap around his waist, which he loves. He can't get enough of the fact that you want him, that you're pushing him deeper and not letting him pull out too much.

His head falls beside yours, letting you hear every pant and grunt that falls from his lips. Your walls squeeze around him every so often. The noises make your tummy flutter for him. It drives you wild to know you brought him to such a state of lust.

"Christ, you're so fucking tight," he mumbles.

You giggle again and drape your arms around his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. You just get lost in the feeling of him inside you, his cock battering all your sweet spots just right. He leans in and kisses at your neck. His hips pump deeper, ramming his shaft further into the warm depth of you.

In this moment, everything feels so good and pure. You can't even imagine any of the pain he inflicted on you before. It all feels like a distant dream. Memories that belonged to someone else, not you. At this second, it feels as though this bliss will last forever. Just you and him tangled in the throes of passion without a concern for anything else happening beyond the privacy of his room.

When you open your eyes, they're a little watery from all the stimulation and how good it feels mixed with your saccharine thoughts. You arch off the bed a few inches, pushing your pert breasts against the warmth of his chest. He pushes you back down with ease, keeping you angled exactly where he wants you.

Pulling back a little to look at your face, he smiles when he sees the water gathering in your eyes.

"Oh, those are the tears I like to see," he croons.

You moan, a little shiver coursing through you. It only encourages him to pound his hips harder against you, in and out, in and out, until you're both approaching the edge.

"You gonna cum again for me, sweetheart? Show daddy how good he's making you feel?" he murmurs.

"Yeah, mhm, ah-" you whimper, "I wanna cum daddy, wanna cum for you."

"I know you do," he chuckles, "I can feel it."

Your cunt contracts and releases around him with increased frequency now. He knows you're moments away from reaching the peak. Swiveling his hips, he tries to strike that chord and bring you crashing down.

You whimper, the pitch getting higher as the glass gets closer to shattering. Finally, with one good jerk of his pelvis, you tense up and cry out. A couple tears trickle from your eyes. Your nails dig into his shoulder blades.

Your body trembles and rolls with the feeling. He fucks you through it, savoring every delicious squeeze of your cunt around him. A few breathless groans rumble out of him. He gets every last second in your hole he can before he has to pull out.

He snaps his hips back, replacing the tightness of your pussy with his hand. It's not the same, but it will do. He gives it a few quick strokes before he explodes and spills on your belly. You lift your head and watch as the ropes of hot, sticky cum land on your skin.

His hips jerk with each surge of release firing from him. When he finishes, his head hangs, and he takes a moment to catch his breath. He scoots off of you and cools down beside your body on the bed. It's quiet for a few moments; though, he's never one to be vulnerable, so he doesn't let the silence linger for too long.

"You feeling better?" he asks and rotates his head to look at you.

You nod, visibly more relaxed than before.

"Thank you, daddy," you say, sweet as can be, before leaning in and pecking his lips.

He stares at you for a few moments in fond satisfaction. Then he gets up, and pulls you to your feet with him.

"C'mon. Let's get you cleaned up," he says.

You follow obediently to the bathroom where he wipes you off with a damp rag and makes sure you're all set to get some rest after. Both of you make your way to the dresser next. He pulls another set of those panties out and slips you into them. They don't feel so horrible this time around, but in the back of your mind, you're sure that won't be the case tomorrow morning. A soft, thin shirt covers your upper body next. It's the same baby pink color as the dress, but you don't mind since it's much more comfortable.

On your own, you tuck yourself to his side for the short walk back to the bed. He climbs in first and then tugs you into your spot next to him.

"I want you to try and get some rest," he tells you, stroking down the side of your face, "When you wake up, I'll get you something to eat, but for now, I want you to take a nap, ok?"

You aren't particularly tired, but while living here, sleep has become your greatest method of escape. You never reject a chance at it. The only thing is, right now, you don't really want to escape. You don't feel a horrible gnawing sensation from being so close to him.

However, you agree anyways because daddy knows best for you, and you don't want to make him upset.

You lie your head on his chest and snuggle up to him. He holds you close, rewarding the compliance by rubbing your back.

"Sweet dreams, babydoll," he murmurs.

You shut your eyes, allowing your mind to recede into visions of the life and people you had before this. The life you still hoped one day you would get back, even as it became more and more like a fantasy rather than a realistic future.

[count-on-mi]

Mommy's little Boy Part 2 (Tzuyu)

My body has recently entered puberty, my hormones are surging, and I have strong sexual urges every day. As the only woman in the family, My mum, Tzuyu naturally became the object of my desire. Although our mother-son relationship is close, I still feel a little embarrassed to ask my mother to take care of my physical needs.

But every time I have an erection, Tzuyu will still considerately help me solve the problem. She would gently hold my penis with her soft hands and move it up and down slowly and rhythmically until I ejaculated on her hand. Tzuyu's technique is very skillful and she can give me the ultimate pleasure every time.

"Mom, I'm hard again..." I called softly in the room. Soon, the door opened and Tzuyu walked in with a glass of hot milk.

She sat next to me gently, stretched out her little hand and groped in my crotch for a while, and found the erect bulge without any error. I immediately felt a numbing current spread from my lower body to my whole body, and I almost screamed with pleasure.

"It's so good, Mom, you really know how to play..." I moaned, enjoying the pleasure brought by Tzuyu's nimble fingers.

A shy blush appeared on Tzuyu's face, but she still served me wholeheartedly. Soon, I sprayed a large stream of thick white turbidity into her delicate palm, letting out a low growl of satisfaction.

Tzuyu took out a few tissues to wipe the liquid on her hands, with a doting smile on her face: "If you need it in the future, remember to tell mom~"

Since I got Tzuyu's "help", I have become more and more eager for her body, and the frequency of erections is as high as several times a day. Although Tzuyu was initially worried about whether my body could handle it, she could not refuse my requests.

Gradually, Tzuyu completely let go of her bottom line at my request. At first she would serve me in her underwear, but soon she couldn't resist my begging. She stripped naked and knelt in front of me, using her naked breasts and thighs to rub me to orgasm one after another.

Tzuyu's soft skin slid across my crotch, arousing waves of pleasure. I couldn't help but knead her round and erect nipples. Tzuyu groaned, but she focused more on swallowing my cock. Soon I reached climax with a long cry, and poured all the white fluid into Tzuyu's little mouth.

"Mom, you are so powerful...I will not be willing to cum until I cum in your mouth..." I gasped, watching the way Tzuyu's throat squirmed.

Tzuyu wiped away the spilled residue from the corner of her mouth and gently stroked my chest: "Good boy, of course mommy will give you the best things~ Just tell me where you want to ejaculate in the future."

"Hmm... I want to cum underneath you..." I couldn't help but fantasize, looking at Tzuyu's pink petals glowing with water, just waiting for me to come.

Tzuyu was shocked after hearing this, and then blushed: "How is this possible! We are mother and son..."

"But mom, you can even let me penetrate your mouth..." I said aggrievedly, and inserted my fingers into Tzuyu's vagina, feeling the moisture and tightness inside.

Tzuyu bit her lip, obviously there was a war in her heart.

Tzuyu was silent for a moment, and finally made up her mind: "Baby, I know you are in full swing right now, but I really can't accept letting you go in there... That's mommy's final bottom line."

I was eclipsed, but Tzuyu immediately added: "But apart from there, mom can let you play anywhere else... just like now..."

After saying that, Tzuyu moved her body and opened her two plump thighs in an M shape, with the pink petals clearly visible. My eyes lit up, and I immediately leaned down and hugged Tzuyu's thigh and started sucking hard.

Tzuyu screamed, her slender fingers embedded deeply into the sheets, letting me use the tip of my tongue to wreak havoc on her sensitive clitoris. Soon, the sparkling love juice flowed out from Tzuyu's lower body and wet my lips and tongue.

"Ahhh... good son... you lick mommy so well... go a little deeper... yes... right there..." Tzuyu kept moaning, my lips and tongue were in her private parts Lingering, bringing wave after wave of climax.

When Tzuyu's screams gradually subsided, I raised my head and saw that Tzuyu's pussy was already covered in mud. I eagerly held my cock and pressed it between Tzuyu's thighs.

Tzuyu seemed to understand my intention and hurriedly stopped me: "Wait...you can’t put it in!"

"Don't worry, I'll only fuck your thighs." I replied with a smirk, then straightened my waist and pushed my penis deep into Tzuyu's soft thigh flesh.

"Oh——" I gasped, this feeling was more refreshing than I imagined. Tzuyu's thighs are white and tender, with a delicate and smooth skin surface, but the inner muscles are elastic, wrapping my body tightly. With every thrust, Tzuyu would moan softly, the sound that sounded like pain but not painful was sultry.

"Baby...slow down...mom's leg is going to be broken..." Tzuyu begged, but I didn't care, and speeded up my movements, only focusing on my own pleasure.

Seeing that the she could not stop me, Tzuyu simply gave up resistance and concentrated on clamping the roots of her thighs. I immediately felt an unprecedented sense of oppression. Tzuyu 's thigh flesh was like a living thing, tightly wrapping my penis in it. With every thrust, I screamed out in pleasure and almost burst out between Tzuyu's thighs.

At the same time, my glans was rubbing against Tzuyu's labia again and again. The two petals were already wet with my semen, and now they were like two thick flesh lips adsorbed on my front, making me even more excited.

"Ah - Mom, you are really good at playing..." I yelled in a daze, while Tzuyu was trembling with my impact. More honey flowed out of her vagina and wetted our intercourse parts.

The feeling of being wrapped in her clit made me crazy. I grabbed Tzuyu's ankles and pulled her legs further apart. Tzuyu understood, she let out a sweet cry and clamped her thighs tightly, trapping my whole body inside. All my weight was focusing on the clone. I was so happy that I raised my head and let out a long sigh.

Tzuyu's thighs were like a tight paradise, tightly wrapping my penis, and every inch of the texture was rubbing against the most sensitive parts. The position of my glans was just stuck between Tzuyu's slightly open petals. Every time I straightened my waist, it rubbed against her most private entrance.

"Mom, you are really good at playing... If you keep going like this, I will cum all over your legs..." I tried my best to hold myself up so as not to be squeezed too tightly by Tzuyu's thighs and cause me to climax directly.

But Tzuyu smiled proudly as if she had been praised: "Isn't that exactly what you want? Good boy, keep fucking mom's thighs..."

After saying that, Tzuyu tightened her thighs again, and my penis was trapped in them and there was no way to escape. Tzuyu's petals kept squeezing my glans, and my tips soon secreted precum, which mixed with Tzuyu's honey, making our intercourse smoother.

"Oh - I'm going to die... Mom, your clit sucks me so much... deeper... I want to fuck them all in..." I thrust wildly, attacking again and again. The whole tips was swallowed by Tzuyu 's clit.

Tzuyu also followed my movements and swung her waist, cooperating with me to fuck her thighs. Her juice flowed non-stop, soaking the sheets.

I was so stimulated by Tzuyu's soft thighs that I lost my mind. I raised my waist and pushed deeper again and again. My glans kept rubbing against Tzuyu's clitoris and sex center, eliciting sweet moans from her.

Tzuyu's thighs seemed to have a life of their own, tightly clinging to my body. Whenever I pulled out, Tzuyu would relax a little, and then she would tighten when I thrust in. The contrast brought me so much pleasure that I was soon on the verge of ejaculation.

"Mom... I'm about to cum... loosen up a little..." I gasped and begged for mercy, but Tzuyu smiled coquettishly and squeezed her thighs tighter: "Cum... cum all over Mom. On the legs..."

I fucked Tzuyu's thighs like crazy. Every time my glans connected with Tzuyu's petals, a deadly wave of pleasure swept through my body. I don't even need to actually penetrate Tzuyu's pussy, just relying on this position can give me supreme pleasure.

Tzuyu felt the cock between her thighs begin to twitch, and she immediately understood that I was about to cum. Instead of relaxing, she clamped her thighs tighter, vowing to squeeze me dry until every drop was left.

"Baby son... don't mommy's thighs feel so good... you are just a little bit close to being able to penetrate mommy's real hole... Do you want to try it?" Tzuyu teased me wildly, then such obscene language directly pushed me to bliss.

My sanity finally completely collapsed at this moment. I grabbed Tzuyu's buttocks and thrust hard. Every time I thrust in, My tips was fully swallowed by her clit. Tzuyu 's labia were stretched to the maximum by my penis, and the pink petals almost turned white under the rapid friction.

"Ah... I'm going to cum... Mom, you're so good at sucking... I'm going to... Oh - I'm going to cum... Mommy, I'm going to cum -" I stiffened and yelled At the climax, Tzuyu's thighs clamped down on me, and my penis exploded in her thighs. White hot water spurted out from the eyes, all of which ejaculated on Tzuyu's body.

"Mommy...I cum for you..." I was exhausted and fell on Tzuyu's body. Tzuyu felt my orgasm and tightened her grip even more, making my ejaculation last longer. She stroked my sweaty back, and at the same time teased me verbally: "Baby... you fuck me so much that I'm so satisfied... cum more... fill mommy's legs..."

These words directly hit my vitality. I was so happy that my whole body was shaking, and the amount of ejaculation was far greater than usual. Tzuyu 's thighs were soon covered with my semen, and some even seeped into her petals.

Tzuyu laughed and let me cum all over her thighs and belly. She wiped some of the white turbidity with her fingers and put it in her mouth, savoring my taste.

"Baby son, mommy drank your milk, it's so delicious~" Tzuyu said, looking at me with seductive eyes. My penis that had not yet faded became hard again under her sight. It seemed that there were more good shows to be performed tonight...

I looked at Tzuyu, her expression was both intoxicated and proud, as if everything that just happened was just a trivial game. A ridiculous idea came to my mind, so I raised my penis again and pressed it against Tzuyu's thigh.

Tzuyu's eyes widened in surprise, and I couldn't wait to start thrusting. The penis I had just ejaculated was still very sensitive, and Tzuyu's thighs were so beautiful, I was quickly aroused again.

"Baby...you still want to come?" Tzuyu was a little flattered, and then she smiled very charmingly: "Then mom will play with you to the end..."

Tzuyu tightened her thighs again, and we seemed to be in an endless obscene game.

I grabbed Tzuyu's waist and thrust hard, as if I wanted to crush her under my penis. Tzuyu was knocked forward and backward by my offensive, and her breasts kept shaking in front of her chest. Her clit was also crushed by me again and again, causing more honey to flow out.

"Ah...baby...you are too cruel...Mom can't bear it anymore..." Tzuyu gasped and grabbed my arms with both hands for support. However, her legs tightened tighter and tighter, as if she wanted to completely confine my penis between her legs.

My scalp was numb from the stimulation of Tzuyu's tight legs, and a trace of precum leaked out of my tips again. I knew I was on the verge of losing control and could only sprint harder to reach climax as quickly as possible.

"Mommy, I'm almost there... Your legs squeeze me so much..." I groaned, my waist twitched a few times for the last time, and then my penis twitched, and I ejaculated a thick white fluid.

Tzuyu felt my ejaculation and actually increased the strength of her legs, as if she wanted to squeeze out the last drop of my essence. I roared, reaching an unprecedented peak of bliss, and my whole body went limp, except for my clone, which was still as hard as iron and embedded between Tzuyu's legs.

We stayed in this position, Tzuyu gently stroking my hair with a doting smile on her lips. Her legs were already covered with my bodily fluids, and the white turbidity mixed with her own vaginal fluids formed an extremely lustful picture.

Tzuyu held my face and kissed my lips. The tip of her tongue slipped into my mouth and swam around like a little snake. "Good baby... Mom is very satisfied... Your performance is even better than before..." Tzuyu licked the saliva from the corner of my mouth, her tone full of doting.

I kissed Tzuyu back and wrapped my arms around her neck. My fingers searched her back and soon found her anus. I pressed it as if to be a prank, causing Tzuyu to exclaim.

"You bad boy! Don't touch there..." Tzuyu was ashamed and angry, but the next second she was blocked by another passionate kiss from me.

I grabbed Tzuyu's hips and turned her over to face me. Tzuyu lay down knowingly and opened her legs wide, revealing the petals inside that were red from my fucking. There was a hunger in her eyes, expecting me to take her again. She seems forget about she is not allowing me to enter her.

I held my penis and pressed it against Tzuyu's entrance. Under Tzuyu 's gaze, he slowly pushed in, feeling the tightness and moisture in her cavity. It’s the first time I entered my mum, and the heat and tight nearly get me cum instantly.

"Hmm...slow down...it's too thick..." Tzuyu bit her lip and moaned, looking at me with surrender written all over her eyes.

I leaned down and kissed Tzuyu, my penis going deeper into her body. It wasn't until I was completely submerged that I raised my head and saw that Tzuyu had closed her eyes in confusion.

"Baby... move..." Tzuyu invited enthusiastically. I couldn't bear it anymore and immediately started to play with her pussy aggressively.

My penis quickly shuttled in and out of Tzuyu 's honey hole, reaching the deepest point every time. Tzuyu 's whole body trembled due to my impact, and her heart kept secreting new nectar.

"Hmm... baby... go deeper... I'm going to be penetrated by you..." Tzuyu moaned wildly, hooking her legs around my waist and rocking her hips back and forth in line with my progress.

I was so aroused by Tzuyu's wild performance that I lost my mind and fucked her pussy even harder. Tzuyu 's body was warm and wet, tightly wrapping around my body. A large amount of clear mucus leaked from the place where our genitals met, soaking the sheets underneath her.

"Mom...you know how to suck...I'm going to cum..." I gasped and growled. After hearing this, Tzuyu accelerated her hips, and her pussy kept squirming, as if she wants to squeeze me dry.

"Then cum... cum all for mommy..." Tzuyu 's eyes were confused, and her lips were soaked with her own body fluids. I couldn't bear it anymore, so I suddenly increased my speed, and with one final hard blow, my penis was buried deeply inside Tzuyu, and at the same time, white turbidity surged out, completely filling her cervix.

Tzuyu felt my ejaculation, her whole body stiffened, and then she shuddered like a spasm. She screamed loudly, reaching the highest peak of lust. The two of us climbed to the top together, the aftermath of our climax lingering for a long time.

After the climax, I held Tzuyu in my arms and lay on the bed with her. Tzuyu 's fingers still stayed on my back garden, as if exploring some novel territory.

"Baby... you are such a genius... you bring mommy unexpected surprises every time..." Tzuyu whispered in my ear, and I felt a sense of pride well up after hearing it.

I kissed Tzuyu's neck and stretched my hands to her breasts. Soon, Tzuyu's nipples stood erect in the palm of my hand. My fingers twisted the two sensitive protrusions from time to time, causing Tzuyu to gasp softly.

"Baby... don't... Mom was about to die just now... Let mom take a rest now..." Tzuyu begged, but I knew she was not satisfied yet.

I turned over and pressed on Tzuyu, with my once more erect penis pressed against her entrance. Tzuyu was taken aback, but quickly faced me resignedly.

"Then let mommy see... what else my little boy is capable of..." Tzuyu smiled seductively. I couldn't hold it in any longer and penetrated her hard.

We started another round of passionate sex and fell asleep late at night.

Since that affair with Tzuyu at home, the erotic relationship between us has become increasingly widespread. Whenever my father was not at home, Tzuyu would always find various excuses to pull me to her room, and then she could not wait to unbutton my pants, and use her charming little mouth and hands to push me to the peak of bliss.

Even when my father was at home, Tzuyu would take the opportunity to tease me, such as secretly touching my inner thighs with her hands, or blowing and whispering in my ear to make me hard. Whenever this happens, I can't help but push Tzuyu down on the bed and cum everything for her.

Gradually, I found that my body was increasingly unable to bear Tzuyu's enthusiasm. I often felt pain in my back and lacked physical strength.

Tzuyu didn't seem to be aware of my physical troubles. Whenever she had a chance, she would grab me and ask me to help her reach climax. Several times I woke up in the middle of the night and found myself covered in Tzuyu's bodily fluids, and the sheets were in a mess.

But every time I face Tzuyu's temptation, I can't refuse her, because her body is the strongest aphrodisiac to me. A look from her could turn me on, a whisper from her could arouse my lust. I fell deeply into this twisted lust. I knew it was an immoral relationship, but I couldn't extricate myself, and I can give everything for her.

"Baby... Mommy wants you again... Come and help mommy vent her lust..." Tzuyu's voice was charming and sweet, and my penis instantly became engorged with blood and stood straight up.

"Mom...I've ejaculated several times today...my body just can't take it anymore..." I begged with a wry smile, but my hands began to caress Tzuyu's breasts involuntarily.

"Then let mom see how powerful my little baby is..." Tzuyu smiled and opened her legs, revealing her already wet private parts.

My reason completely collapsed at this moment, and only animal desires dominated all my actions. I rushed forward and got entangled with Tzuyu,

"Baby...come on...Mom is about to climax again..." Tzuyu twisted her waist, kneading her breasts with one hand, and thrusting into my backcourt with the other.

"Mom...wait a minute...I just cum..." I gasped and begged, but Tzuyu ignored my pleas and just urged me to penetrate her pussy again.

I could only reluctantly follow the instructions and enter Tzuyu's body again. The two of us are entangled together, as if there is only each other left in the world, and everything else has nothing to do with us.

[pickingupmymercedes]

The things we do for fashion - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

request: "Hey, drop something happy and sexy to get over this terrible weekend with Lewis in merc with that terrible strategy and that bad tire performance, burn that car pls. Thank you" - anon

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie.

Also, wrap it before you tap it

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Cutesy and fun smut, little to no plot, as all my smuts tend to be. Also, been gone (with food poisoning) but this request had to be written.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT.

______________________________________________________________

You started it without any intention for it to end like it did. An innocent clean-up of his spare closet was all it was meant to be. But, living with Lewis was seldom your typical experience, and things with him had a knack for turning into something else entirely within a matter of minutes.

You had the day off and your self-appointed task of the day was relatively simple: get Lewis's paddock outfits out of the boxes Eric had shipped them in and organize them on the racks so Lewis could see the full fit. It should have taken you less than two hours, ample time to spare until Lewis returned from the factory. At least, that's what you thought.

In the middle of the room, you sat surrounded by half-open boxes and only a few racks filled when you heard Lewis call out from the entrance of his London home.

"Hey, love! How's it going in here?"

You scrambled to your feet, pushing aside the box you were sorting through and greeted him with a sheepish smile. "Uh, not quite as planned, to be honest."

Lewis chuckled as he walked over to you, glancing at the mess of boxes and clothes. "Mind if I have a look at what you've got so far?"

"Go ahead, just…it's not finished yet." you said, a little embarrassed.

Lewis began to sift through the clothes, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he pulled out some of the pieces he recalled were his favorites.

"Oh, I've been looking forward this one!" he exclaimed, holding up a vibrant red jacket. "And these trousers! I can't wait to wear this combo."

He continued to go through the clothes, commenting on each piece he was excited to wear. The excitement in his voice infectious, getting you to instantly smile at his enthusiasm.

As he reached the bottom of one of the boxes, his hand paused on a piece of clothing. A black sleeveless turtleneck, skin-tight and oh so sleek.

"Oh, I love this one," you whispered, unable to hide your admiration.

A subtle shift occurred in Lewis's expression. His eyes meeting yours, a hint of intrigue and desire in them.

"You really think so?" his voice already lower, almost to a husky whisper.

"Yeah," you admitted, feeling a rush of heat spread through you. "They accentuate your biceps really well."

A wicked grin spread across Lewis's face, and he took a step closer, the atmosphere in the room growing more intense. "Is that so?" his murmur mimicking his eyes darkening with desire. "Maybe you'd like to see just how well it accentuates them?"

Your breath caught in your throat as Lewis took his sweats off and then slowly pulled the turtleneck over his head, revealing the defined muscles of his biceps. The fabric clung to him perfectly, emphasizing every contour and curve.

"Like what you see?" he teased, his voice low and seductive.

You swallowed hard, unable to tear your eyes away from him. "More than you'll ever know."

With a playful smirk, Lewis leaned in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, the intensity of the moment leaving no doubt that this innocent closet clean-up had taken a decidedly spicy turn.

His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, the heat between you palpable. You responded eagerly, your hands roaming over his toned chest and back, reveling in the feel of his muscles beneath your touch.

Lewis's hands trailed up your spine, sending shivers down your back, and he broke the kiss to pepper soft, lingering kisses along your jawline and neck. His breath was warm against your skin, his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

"God, you drive me crazy," his murmurs against your skin, voice husky with desire.

You gasped as he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you over to the nearby sofa and gently laying you down. He hovered over you, his eyes dark with passion, and you reached up to pull him down for another searing kiss.

The world seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the sensation of his lips on yours, his hands exploring your body with a gentleness that belied the intensity of his desire. Time seemed to stand still as you explored each other, the connection between you deepening with every touch, every caress.

Eventually, you both came up for air, breathless and flushed with desire. Lewis's eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of love, lust, and something deeper, something more profound.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

"I love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with love and contentment.

With a simple exchange, the atmosphere in the room shifted once again, the intense passion giving way to a more tender, intimate connection. You held yourself up by his shoulders, drawing your body close to his, feeling his growing arousal through the fabric of his briefs. Between lingering kisses, his hand found its way to your core, teasing your clit through the fabric of your panties and shorts. Your moans filled the room, mingling with his as his lips stubbornly refused to leave your own.

Growing impatient with the teasing, you took hold of his wrists, his eyes opening wide with a mix of surprise and concern. "Lew, no teasing, please," you murmured in a ragged voice, locking eyes with him. His smirk formed slowly, mischief dancing in his eyes. "You don’t get to start this and not see it through, baby girl," he whispered, his voice incredibly low as he breathed in your scent. His arms wrapped around your legs and waist, effortlessly laying you down once again.

His fingers skillfully undid the silk ribbon of your shorts, slowing down each movement as his eyes met yours, his kisses trailing lower on your body. "When you see me wearing this turtleneck, I want you to remember me eating you up in it," he whispered against your skin.

Reaching your core, he caressed you for a moment before pulling the cotton fabric to the side, blowing gently on your sensitive skin before kissing you, causing your body to quiver in anticipation. Soon, his tongue was exploring every inch of you, his thumb on your clit and two fingers teasing your entrance.

"We need to get you ready, huh?" he said, not waiting for your response before curling his fingers inside you, the angle and traction causing you to writhe in pleasure, reaching your first climax, completely captivated by his touch.

Stepping away from the sofa to remove his sweatpants and boxers, you mustered the energy and courage to sit up and grab his arms before he could take the turtleneck off. "You, sir, you stay just like that while I engrave into my memory how ridiculously hot you look," you said with a playful smirk.

Kneeling in front of him, you took his member in one hand, the other tracing his abdomen beneath the fabric. The sensation of his growing body hair, his precum leaking from the tip, and the low whimpers from the man – who you literally had in your hands – left you feeling overwhelmingly elated.

His hands on the back of your head guided the rhythm as you took him into your mouth, the head of his dick reaching further with each thrust, synchronizing perfectly with your movements. If it weren’t for his hands on your cheeks and the fiery intensity in his eyes, you could have continued for hours.

The raw passion and connection between you two made every touch, every kiss, and every glance get you two more connected than the last. So, when he reached for your arms, he didn’t need to say he was more than ready to take you, fully. His hands on your waist guided you to one of the arms of the sofa, steadying you with one hand while the other spread your leg to get better access.

His first stroke was always the slowest; this time, though, it felt like torture. His eyes closed as he reached deeper and deeper, moans leaving his mouth and yours as you both adjusted to each other, his body coming closer to yours as he embraced you, his lips connecting to yours almost mindlessly. "Babe, I swear… it never gets easier holding myself back."

His thrusts got harder and faster as he continued, your moans turning into gasps the closer you got to another orgasm, his dick ever so slightly brushing that spot that got you whimpering, just for him to smirk down at you and change the angle. He wanted to build the pressure so he could choose when to release it; he was in control, and he knew how to show it.

Just after your eyes started welling up from the overstimulation, he pulled both of your legs behind his neck, making sure he reached your cervix and g-spot each time. His dick throbbing and his thrusts deepened as he let out a guttural groan, his seeds filling you as you saw white, his pubic bone hitting your clit just right one last time.

The room was filled with heavy breaths and a lingering warmth as you both came down from your high. Lewis’s expression soft and his eyes filled with tenderness and care as he looked at you "You okay?" his question gentle, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You nodded, feeling a little overwhelmed but safe in his arms. "Yeah, just a bit worn out, I guess." Lewis smiled warmly, pulling you closer to him. "Let me take care of you," he murmured, as he carefully helped you sit up and stood to grab a towel from the nearby bathroom.

Returning to your side, he dampened the towel with warm water and began to gently clean you up, taking care not to cause any discomfort. Once he was satisfied that you were comfortable, Lewis took off the turtleneck he had been wearing, putting it aside to be washed before sitting back down beside you on the small sofa.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest, offering you comfort and warmth. You snuggled into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your ear. The intensity of the moment had passed, replaced by a comforting sense of closeness and affection.

"The room's a bit of a state, isn't it?" Lewis remarked after a while, bringing you back from the haze you found yourself in, glancing around at the mess of clothes and scattered belongings. "Looks like we've got our work cut out for us." You chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I guess we do. But I wouldn't want to clean up this mess with anyone else."

"The things we do for fashion..." Lewis quipped with a playful smirk. You couldn't help but laugh at his remark, the tension in the room dissipating as you both shared a moment of lightheartedness, wrapped in each other's arms.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[alottiegoingon]

i had this idea I wanted to write, but every time I started, it I end up hating it, so I thought maybe you could come up with something better!!

jackie doing the reader's make up or hair, and they're really close together and finally jackie can't handle it anymore and closes the gap.

user alottiegoingon is completely dead after this!!! sorry its short, im not sure if thats what you had in mind but i had a draft inspired by that pic and thought it would fit well with your idea

jackie taylor x fem!reader

warnings: fluff and a bit of suggestive ending, not proofread

"you can not go like this." jackie broke into a quiet chuckle, studying every feature of your face. "come on. let's fix that." she grabs your hand and lead the way to her bed.

as always, you were always dragged by jackie to many parties you wouldn't usually go if it wasn't for her. 'lucky' for you, she wouldn't ever miss any. not much of a party girl, you would let her pick everything for you; dress, hairstyle, make up.

tonight, trying to mirror her gestures and putting make up by yourself, you somehow ended up looking extremely boring.

"you don't need any, but if you want to wear it..." she's delicate when pushing you onto her bed, soft smile spreading across her face, but there's something in those eyes when she crawls to you. "then we gotta make it right."

your muscles tightens as you sense the warmth emanating from her breath as it meets your face. jackie had an eyeliner in hand and lipstick and blush resting by your side. her knees were straddling you, supporting her weight as half of her body was leaning over you and you had a hard time discerning if her rosy cheeks were caused by the lack of distance between you two or the blush she had applied before.

she graces you with an affectionate grin and the side of her hand touches your face, the cold and wet feeling of the tip of the eyeliner makes you flinch a bit as it touches your eye. "don't move," she murmurs under her breath even though she was struggling as well with unsteady hands.

the air seems to thicken around you. her focused gaze locks onto your eyes, while her lips begin to slightly part. you have never seen jackie so immersed, not even in class or watching a movie. in a matter of seconds, she was done with your eyes and with a firm grasp on the brush, she swept the pinkish powder onto your cheeks in gentle, circular strokes. "see, now you don't look dead anymore," she lets out a breathy giggle, eyes darting from your flushed cheekbones to meet your hesitant stare.

nervously, you just shake your head to agree with her and give her a faint smile. if your heart was already beating fast, it felt like it was about to explode when she switched to the lipstick. your hands resting on the sheets begin to play with the thin fabric.

popping the cap off and bringing her face nearer, her left hand reaches for your skin, thumb tracing your bottom lip with no rush. she was so lost in the sight of your unselead lips that her ragged and heavy breath was resonating in your ears. holding your breath, you felt like you were about to pass out and judging by jackie's distressed and lost eyes, so were she.

"open wider, please." she demands in a low and raspy voice and her words made your heart stop for a moment. her finger, still resting on your mouth, forcefully parted your lips and her hand then slides down to cradle your chin between her thumb and index finger.

she swallows hard, forcing down the lump in her throat, and with her trembling right hand, she starts to apply the red color to your lips. she's careful to cover every inch of your mouth, paying attention to your upper lip first.

when jackie's about to move to your lower lip, she abruptly stops. looking up at your hazy eyes and back at your colored lips over and over, she was waiting for any sign of rejection. perhaps a spoken longing from you, even a faint noise. but you didn't utter a word and it was all she needed.

with a swift motion, jackie abandons the lipstick on the bed, missing it, and her hands immediately find your face. the sharp clatter of the plastic hitting the floor goes unnoticed by both of you as she fervently presses her lips against yours.

taken aback, you momentarily halted before kissing her back, eyes shutting rapidly.

with her brushing finger over your jawline, her other hand makes its way to your neck, gently wrapping her fingers around it. in an instant reaction, your hands forsake the sheets, eagerly gripping her hips.

"jackie," you tried to break the kiss but your words were nothing but slurred and weak sounds that she didn't care one bit about. "what about the party?"

not letting you speak, denying you any space by not letting go of your lips, and with smudged red lipstick all over her mouth, she whispers something into your mouth.

"forget about it."

[aplaceforyourhearttorest]

It Will Come Back 🕮⛧ James Hetfield (18+)

Part Two of Summon Me

Mentions/Warnings: demon!james, oral sex while standing/carrying receiver, fingering, minor blood play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie

Glass bottles' bottoms are clacking themselves together in a loud and rhythmic unison as your roommate hurries her way back inside of your guys' shared dormitory and kitchen, and the abrupt way she nearly drops them on the dining room table in front of you, has you jumping in shocked fright. You're unable ask her what's wrong, before she's manically reaching into the paper bag to rip a beer out of a six pack.

"God, I fucking hate Halloween," she expels during a small pause in between her taking large gulps of the lightly colored beverage. "I swear, it feels like every year since we ended up doing that séance, we've been cursed." Your eyebrows raise on their own accord, and you can't help but laugh in disbelief.

"We, as in you and me, we? Because from what I remember, I came home and found you and your friend drunk off your asses, with a ouija board and a burnt planchette on the living room floor." You raise your hand to solidify your statement by showing off the healed scar on your palm, and only relax back into your seat once she sends you an apologetic smile and tosses her empty bottle in the direction of the trash can.

"Yeah, sorry about all of that," her tone is dismissive, yet soft, and you lower your hand back down onto your book as she moves closer to you by sliding her elbows against the wood. Lifting her forearms to hold her hands together to rest her chin on top of them, you see her fight off a shiver and purposefully look around really slowly. "But you can feel it too, right? It comes and goes every few weeks, but I swear, it always gets colder and darker this time of year. And the fucking scratch marks on the cabinets get longer each year too. I swear I'm not crazy."

You purse your lips to hide your smile, and lift up a shoulder in response as you pinch the used and worn pieces of paper together in the back of your novel. "I think whatever happened that night, you definitely invited something in here, and it just likes to mess with you is all," using a rugged and already half torn edge of the page you stopped on to dog ear it for later, you close your book and go to move your chair back, but stop when you notice the look on her face.

Using her left index finger that's free from underneath her chin, she points at you and narrows her eyes. "What do you mean?" She interrogates, and you force your expression to remain neutral, even as your fingertips turn white as you tighten your hold around your item. "You said me, instead of we. Is there something going on that I don't know about? Have you and Steve been fucking with me?"

You're pushing your chair from further behind you with the backs of your knees by the time she has her eyes narrowed in on you, and you perceptibly shake your head. "I haven't said more than five words to Steve within the past three years he's been around, much less have conspired with him to make you any more paranoid than usual, roomie."

A shrill scream comes from a few feet away from the partially open back door and outside, and this time, it's your roommate that jumps, and then screams. Red and multicolored led lights are displayed and emanating all throughout your dormitory from all sides from the other surrounding homes, and for a second, she looks like she's in a horror movie. A handful of children running around laughing can be seen through the crack, before she lets out a frustrating sigh and kicks it to a full close. The chain is colliding with the doorframe and then bouncing in place by the time she's grinding her teeth together, and you hesitantly take a step back.

"I think I'm just going to head to my room and finish this up," you murmur in the now completely silent home, and nod your head towards the recyclable bag she came running in with just a few minutes ago. "Make sure to save some for the friends you invited over last week, and happy early Halloween." You take her eyes widening in recollection as enough of a goodbye to turn around and start walking down the hall, only to pause at the obvious burn mark still etched into the wood of your guys' shared living room floor.

To this day, it looks brand new, even after your roommate and her friend tirelessly attempted to scrub it away, in fear of the owner of the house seeing it and deducting even more money from the down payment you two put down after every lease renewal. The sliver of scarred skin itches on the edge of your palm, and excitement whirls in your midsection. Peering over your shoulder to look at the clock and then into the entryway of the kitchen, you hastily and excitedly pace the rest of the way to your bedroom, before locking the door behind you and tugging out the folded up pages from the back of your book.

Using the now blue and purple lights flashing their way through your bedroom's curtains to carefully open the paper from the spell book you stole two years ago, you smile down at the full incantation, before setting it down to get the rest of your supplies. In less than thirty minutes, you'll be seeing him again.

⛧

Three large candles are placed right in front of your crossed legs and bent knees, and you place the new and sterilized needle on your thigh, with your eyes anxiously glancing back to the digital clock resting precariously on your desk every few seconds. As soon as twelve makes itself apparent in the bright red numbers being displayed, you're leaning forward to read the already memorized short spell out loud, and carefully pricking your right index finger.

"I summon thee, on the night on Halloween, to feast upon me in the hopes of everlasting fulfillment."

The wet and darkened bead travels itself down your fingertip in a slow and taunting pace, before collecting at your nailbed, and dripping down onto the page. A steady stream of cold air wafts its way over to you and causes goosebumps to raise on your bare skin, and you grin instead of jolt when two hands are audibly smacking themselves on your nearest bedroom's window. Two bright irises stare at you through your nearly see through fabric, and a brush of heat collects itself as James' sharp teeth greet you from the other side of the glass.

You're on your feet before your head can catch up with the rest of your body, and your hands shake as you eagerly unlatch the window's lock on it and push the aged wood upwards. "You know you can just appear in my bedroom like usual, you didn't have to wait outside." Your voice somehow sounds stable in spite of the insurmountable adrenaline pumping through you, and you allow yourself to be guided backwards as he makes his way inside and delicately beckons you back with a large hand.

Thick and long, sharp nails mold themselves around the curve of your waist, and he grins down at you, before peeking his narrowed tongue out to dampen his lips. "As if I would be alright with doing the exact same shit every year," he responds in a lazy drawl, his eyelids barely fluttering in a blink as he hungrily takes in every inch of you. "Especially with you, after finding out how much you enjoy the dramatics."

You scoff and lightly push at his shoulder, your breath catching in your chest as he wraps his other hand around your wrist to pull you flush against his front. "And who keeps digging their nails into the same cabinets every year to scare my roommate?" You shakily breathe, your earlier adrenaline turning into needily want as the hand he has on your waist grazes down to the upper hem of your underwear and shorts.

James amusingly hums, before bending down to brush your foreheads together, his grin transforming into a smirk as he notices you stopping yourself from inching forward. "And yet, who keeps summoning me back every year in tradition, hm?" The question is whispered into the small swell of cold air in between you two, and he immediately responds to you after you jerk forward to slot your lips with his.

Tendrils of his blonde hair make contact with your bare shoulders as he lifts you and presses you up against the wall, and they connect with yours as he frees a hand to use it to tilt your head upward. The sharp nails dig deliciously into your sensitive skin, and he grunts in praise when you obediently open your mouth at the first tap of his fingers on your jaw.

The rough texture of his tongue is the complete juxtaposition to yours, and it somehow makes everything even more stimulating. His slim appendage slides out from his own wet cavern to lap at your own, and the hold he has on you tightens as you use your own to lick a slow and tantalizing line on the roof of his mouth. The sound of you two disconnecting is sopping wet and filthy, and warmth pools in your groin as he cleans up the strands of saliva still keeping you two together with the tip of his tongue, before swallowing them down.

"Missed how good you taste," he admits softly while looking in your eyes, and you're fully relaxed in his hold by the time he's nudging your head to the side to suck marks into your clavicle. Your legs raise to shakily wrap themselves around his middle as his teeth teasingly scrape against your reddened skin, and you feel his smile as your pulse quickens underneath him. "Here," he hums, and smiles to himself at the gasp you let out when he lifts you up another few inches. He's pressing his open mouth on your clothed breasts and inhaling in, like he can still taste you through the fabric. "Here." Your legs loosen and unwrap themselves as your knees graze his ribs, as he raises you even further. Hard and hot impressions grow against your chest as he's using his nails to rip your shirt into two, and you moan once you realize his horns are beginning to grow.

Thickened saliva pools at the front of your flimsy bra before it's torn apart, and you bite back a wail as he fills his entire mouth with your tit. His incisors retreat as he creates hickeys around your perked nipple, and his own moan reverberates around the room as you loosely make fists around his horns and hold onto them for desperate leverage.

He only separates from you to lick the taste of your own flesh into your mouth and partially greet you with a devilish and wolfish grin. "I need you to hold on tight for me, doll. Think you can do that for me?" His deliverance is borderline condescending, but you can't find it in yourself to care as he positions you to have your legs resting on his shoulders, and then he's squatting down. "What are you doing?" Is barely being stuttered out, before he's sliding the cotton fabric of your shorts and underwear to the side, and making out with your pussy.

The sound that escapes you sounds like a scream, and you couldn't be more grateful to the music your roommate began playing just minutes after you headed to your bedroom. James takes his time taking you apart, with each of your lips and your clit being licked and lapped at, and sucked into his hot and searing mouth. If you weren't holding onto his horns for grounding, you'd be gripping your hands in the strands of his hair, or reaching up to dig your nails into the ceiling.

James is hungrily slurping in and dripping out your essence and slick repeatedly as he travels and maps his way through your folds and down to your entrance. Heat jolts down your spine, and you go ramrod straight as your first orgasm pummels into you by the time he's got the tip of his tongue drawing circles and rimming itself against your fluttering hole. He's moaning as you bead and gush around him, and his movements become even more lively after he feeds off of your pleasure and energy.

Panic temporarily sifts through you as your back is being removed from against the wall, but you're placated as he holds onto your waist stands back up to his full height. The top of your head makes light contact with the ceiling of your bedroom, and your thighs shake around his head as he blindly walks you both over to your bed, with his lips still pursed and parted against you. A shocked bout of laughter bellows its way out of you as you're playfully dropped on top of your blankets and sheets, and your widened eyes soften at his rocked and disheveled state that greets you once you look up.

A sheen of your own release is covering the entire lower half of his face, and his eyes grow dark when you decide to lift your still slowly bleeding finger and bring it up to his lips. Red flashes to an almost black as he welcomes the press of you in, and your eyes nearly cross as he secretes a salve to your wound after suckling it clean.

"Do you remember what I gave you permission to do to me, three years ago?" You implore once you're sure your voice isn't going to shake and betray you. You can see him trying to figure it out on his own, but he's too high over your newly transferred vigor and blood that he can't wrap his head around your question. Encircling a hand around his wrist like he had done to you earlier, you hungrily lick at the residual shared tasted of you both of your lips, before guiding his hand down to in between your legs. "I said you could use me, and feed from me."

James' cockhead spurts prerelease in the confines of his jeans, and his hips buck forward on their own once his hand is placed to rest on top of your pussy. Making the conscious and safe decision to retract his nails before sliding and curving his index and middle fingers inside of you, his chest heaves at the sinful sound you make when he does. Circling his digits to rub his fingertips against your spongelike spot until your strings of arousal are nearly wrapping themselves around his wet wrist, his teeth begin to pang with the exertion of having to keep his fangs at bay.

"You can't even imagine the things I want to do to you, sweetheart," he purrs, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth as venom stings against his gums and his horns elongate to their full height. He drives his fingers up into you to their hilt, and then pulls them out until they're nearly completely out of you. "I want to sink my fangs into your jugular and drink you dry, and then feed you my own to heal you. I want to fuck you until you're full of my seed and then eat it out of you, and have you suck the taste of yourself off of my tongue. I want you to feel me whenever you sit down for the next week."

Your eyes roll back, and your legs seize once he adds in his ring finger, and you can't stop yourself from bending your legs against the side of the bed, and yanking yourself down to try and ride them. James beads in his briefs, and a wet stain is visible through his fabric, even in the near pitch black. Red irises stare down at you, and then almost slam shut as he watches you relentlessly try to fuck yourself up and down his digits. "So fucking needy, aren't you? Has it really been that long? I thought it's only been a little bit over a week."

You sit up in a shock when he begins to scissor his fingers inside of you, and the new position has him pressing directly against your spot with the full weight of his hand. You cry out and place your hands on his forearm to stop his movements, and the tremors in your lower half have you shaking uncontrollably and shifting the blankets and sheets on your bed. "Isn't the same when it isn't Halloween, you don't have your horns," you stumble around and freeze in euphoria when he ignores your silent plea to stop. A full circle of his wrist and a come hither motion has you letting go of his arm to fist his shirt instead, as overwhelmed and overstimulated tears make their way down your cheeks. Regardless of how hungry and insatiable he's feeling, James is careful when he removes his fingers from inside of you, and he pauses in place when you refuse to let go of his cotton. Sucking in a shuttering inhale and blinking around the salty sting, you motion for him to take off his shirt, before only letting go to reach down and shakily unbuckle his belt. "I want to ride you."

Your trembling right hand is pressing itself against his swollen dick before he can even verbalize an answer, and you use the rest of your strength to pull him down on top of you, and then flip you guys' over. Tears slightly blur your vision as you unstably unbutton his jeans and tug them down past his upper thighs, but you can still recognize the awe in is gaze. A human version of a hand is running itself through the mane on the side of your head, and you pause your ministrations to lean into the hold, and then his briefs are falling down with his pants. "You don't have to if you aren't up for it, doll. I saw you almost slip into subspace earlier." He gasps as you curl a fist around his length after licking your palm slick beforehand, and the gentle grip in your hair tightens. You mewl at the sensation, and carefully shake your head as you gather yourself and stabilize while straddling his lap.

His free hand comes down to hold you upright as you reach back to grasp onto him, with him hissing at the sensitivity as his cockhead brushes against your still sopping entrance. "Wanna take care of you, just like you take care of me," you almost whisper, and your train of thought gets temporarily lost as you slowly sit yourself down on his dick. The slight twinge of pain is still there regardless of his earlier fingering, and you sigh in relief as his wide girth stretches you to your brink. "You always fill me so well, like you were made for me." The hand on your side pinches itself into your skin, but you ignore the slight discomfort as you fully position yourself up onto your feet. Placing both of your hands on his naked and sweating middle, you both curse out loud with the first slide.

The first time you bottom with your full body weight, your legs almost give out from underneath you, with him pressed so perfectly against your cervix it almost brings tears to your eyes. The hand in your hair slides down to grip onto your ass, and then moves forward to begin to tease at your swollen and bulbous clit. "I was made to fuck you just like this, and for you to use me," James breathily responds, his skin overheating and burning as you bounce up and down his length with reckless abandon. Every single swing of your hips and stuttered pulsing thrust has him spurting small beads of precum in you, and when he feels the telltale sign he's going to cum, he flips you two around. "I can't have my good girl doing all of the work herself, now can I?"

He's burying himself fully into you and sheathing his girth into and against your stretched out and slick walls before you can answer, and all you can do is hold on. The blankets and sheets beneath you shift and crumple in, and you have to wrap a shaking leg around him in fear of sliding off the bed with the force and desperation behind his thrusts. The sounds coming out of you sound strangled and animalistic, and they turn into teary jerks of his name when he reaches down in between you two to stimulate you even further.

He barely even has to tap his thumb against you, because you're already falling apart. You've had countless amounts of rounds of sex with him sporadically over the past few years, but it never feels the same or becomes tiresome and boring. You reach up to dig your nails into his back's skin, knowing that he likes a little bit of pain of his own, and he's bearing himself into you so harshly and deeply, your top halves are sliding off the bed.

A hand is taking the brunt of the fall near your head, and you're nearly bent in half as he continues to use you for his own gain. The new position has your eyes rolling in the direction of the back of your head, and you can feel his skin breaking underneath your fingers as you hold on for dear life. The next piercing thrust has you silently gasping and going completely pliant and numb in his grasp, and you slowly fade off as your third orgasm within the last half an hour shoots through you. James is still pistoling himself in and out of you, before your abused and sore pussy walls constrict in just the right way, and he's filling you with his seed.

Shakily using his knees still pressed against the bed to carefully glide you two down to fully lie down on your carpeted floor, James places kisses to the crown of your head and rubs small circles in your side until you slowly start to resurface and come back to. "There you are." He greets you, his tone hoarse from his own moans and from how spent he now is, regardless of how much he just took from you. Your eyes are refocusing on him and then your eyebrows are furrowing at the itchy fabric being pressed into your forearms. Looking further down and seeing where you two ended up, you're only able to maintain a few seconds of calm eye contact with him, before you're both shaking in silent and hysterical laughter.

The room becomes completely dark once the candles meet their end less than a handful of feet away, and the neighboring lights fade as their owner's head to bed. Tiredly lifting your head to lean forward and kiss him with as much energy you can muster, you smile against his bruised red lips, and murmur, "happy Halloween." The same sentiment is being gently said back to you, and James holds onto you until you catch your breath and go to clean up, and until the morning sun threatens to rise.

You hold back a shiver as the wind from your open bedroom window cascades itself down your arms and legs, with that being the only skin not protected and covered by James' oversize shirt. You're tugged into a tight embrace, and then he's hefting himself back out of your window. "Maybe don't wait until Halloween to summon me again, alright?" He grins at you, and holds onto the window frame as he leans back to evade your halfhearted swat.

"As long as you stop scaring the shit out of my roommate, and just appear in my bedroom next time." You try to reason, but with the fucked out and content expression on his face, and the loose movement in his posture before he lets himself fall back, you know he isn't fully listening. Perking up at the mention of her, he goes to reassure you that he won't, even though he knows that he's going to end up messing with her again. He's got a tradition to uphold, and he is a creature of habit.

⛧

James makes sure to listen in for any movement coming from the front part of the shared dormitory, before entering through the back door. Turning the kitchen light off to make sure his horns and elongated nails can't be seen in his shadow, he makes his way over to their pantry to unscrew the cabinet doors until they fall off.

Once he's done with his handy work, he purposefully pushes a half empty beer bottle off of the table, and makes his way back outside as multiple pairs of footsteps run their way towards the dining area.

A bright light is turned on, and then a frustrated scream can be heard, even as he rounds his way back towards the front of the house.

"I swear to God, I think I'm losing my mind! Someone sedate me!" He hears her scream, and he laughs to himself, before Steve's adding in. "The scratch marks were right there just less than an hour ago! Where the hell could they have gone?" James readjusts the damaged wooden doors in his arms, and sends you a wolfish grin when he sees you peering down at him with an incredulous and exasperated look on your face.

"Call me." He sends up to you, and you can't help but smile to yourself as he walks away, and then disappears.

Raising your now sore arms to push your window to a close and relatch the lock, you make a pitstop and bend down to grab onto the page ripped out of the spell book, before crawling back into your messy bed. The blood drop is now gone from the piece of paper, but you can still taste the residual of it from when you kissed him on the carpet. Satiated bliss weighs you down, and its got you easily closing your eyes and almost immediately falling asleep. Tightening your hold on the paper and rearranging yourself before you do, your last thought is.

'I am definitely calling him again.'

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Mommy issues

Boss!Scarlett × Fem!reader

WARNINGS: Smut, Boss/Employee relationship, Pet Names, Top!Scarlett, Bottom!reader

SUMMARY: Your boss Scarlett has some special plans for the celebration of your promotion

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!

Word count: 1.1 k

Authors note: Thanks for 100 follows love ya all

Masterlist

I've now worked for the outset for about three months and somehow, I still couldn't believe that I was working with the Scarlett Johansson. In the beginnings I would even stutter whenever she talked to me, which was pretty embarrassing form me, however after some time working with the movie star got more and more normal.

She made it hard for me to not blush whenever she was in a room with me. Whenever would stand behind me I could feel her hands on me, on my waist, on my shoulders or on my lower back. Or how she would gaze at me during meetings, but she would look away whenever I meet her gaze. I never said anything, to be honest I liked it.

Maybe it was all my imagination or how my friends would call it Mommy issues. But something told me that it was more than that, God it was so much more.

On that morning I had received an Email from Scarlett personally, which at first wasn't anything out of the ordinary but this one was addressed to my name asking me for a personal meeting.

To be honest I thought I had fucked something up and was about to get fired in the worse place. That was why when I arrived at her Office, I was even more nervous than I normally am. I signed not knowing how to react now. I couldn't remember any cases where I messed up? My appointment with her was at the of the day and what can I say they were torturous.

My hands were shaking as I carefully nocked at Scarlett’s door I beyond nervous I waited shortly before stepping in my boss’s office. I took a deep breath mentally preparing myself for her harsh words or punishment. However, to my surprise she just smiled at me signalling me to sit down across from her which I did.

"So, Y/N, your work lately has been nothing but perfect" suddenly all my stress had been relieved it felt like burden falling off my chest. "Was thinking about giving you the promotion for head of marketing."

I was speechless and she saw that too "I know that you are only 24 but I think it would be a great opportunity for you. I want young people like who know what they are doing in social media. So, what do you say, Y/N “.

"I'm glad you offered me this opportunity and I will gladly take it" I smile at her, and her plump lips turn into a smile too. She reached her hand out over the desk as I took and shook it and could feel how my cheeks heat up at the minor skin contact.

She abruptly stood up from her office chair going to one of her cabinets. „I think we should celebrate your promotion. So, what do you want red or white wine?" She smiled at me I was a bit taken a back. Did she do this with every of her employees? Or was I special to her?

"I'll have to drive home. I can't drink" she just smirked at me while placing two wine glasses down "Oh sweat heart, I'll drive you home if you want to. So, which one are you taking" I signed I knew that there wouldn't be away out.

"I'll take the white" She nods before opening the bottle "I knew it, you seemed like more of the sweet type" I could feel my cheeks heat up even more. Scarlett bit her lips before taking a slip from her whine.

We talked and made jokes what seemed like hours until she started making me compliments again telling me I how I would be her good girl. She knew how to get me.

"Do I make you nervous" If possible, I blushed even more I try to hide it by drinking more of the sweet alcohol "Come here sweetheart" the actress signalled me to come closer.

As I stood in front of her, but the older woman still wasn't satisfied. She put her glass down petting her lap. "Come on bunny don't be all shy now “.

I couldn't believe it I was sitting on the lap of my boss, and I was liking it. She grabbed on to my hips licking her lips "I know about your little crush on me. I can look through you like a window" Was it really that obvious? I tried to look away from her, but she grabbed my chin, pressing her lips onto mine.

I didn't pull away, no I whimpered into her lips as she broke away. I was breathing hard before diving into her again. I try to take control of the situation, but Scarlett wouldn't let me our tongues fighting for dominance.

In the end she won shoving her tongue down my throat, kneeling the flesh of my ass as I moaned out loud. "Fuck" I whimpered out feeling Scarlett’s lips on my neck, sucking, and nibbling on it.

Scarlett bit my neck making my hips buckle, she groaned on my neck before slamming me into her desk. I groaned at the harsh contact. "Do I have your consent bunny?" She asked me while unbuttoning my blouse "Yes" I cried out at the feeling of her kissing my skin again.

She finished pulling of my clothes before settling between my legs pushing them over her shoulder. She kittens licked my folds neglecting my clit. I let out increased moans making Scarlett groan too."Please Scarlett... no more... teasing" She smirked at me lashing onto my clit sucking it. I rolled my hips, but the actress held me down insisting two fingers into me. "Fuck you're so tight “.

She kept pumping her fingers curling them perfectly against my g spot. "Scarlett fuck I'm close" She smiled at me "Come for me bunny" She moved up my body holding me close as she fucked me through my high. Kissing me as I slowly came down from my high.

"That was amazing" I said as our lips parted "I liked it too" Scarlett kissed my cheek. I pulled my clothes on again. I didn't know what just happened also I didn't know what to do now.

As I tried to leave Scarlett stopped me "Where are you going?" "I'll have to catch subway you know. I don't really want to drive anymore “. She looked at me confused "No, no, I'm driving you I only had a glass of wine besides I feel pretty sober now “. That was the beginning of our live together and now I couldn't imagine on without her.

:)

[im-the-j-in-anthony-j-crowley]

Okay, here me out, i can't stop thinking about demons and the fact that many of them can't spell

Crowley says that spelling is not their strong point, and we see this exemplified especially in Shax and Furfur, but now recently it occurred to me to look up how to pronounce food in Italian. Remember Hastur? If you look it up, you'll notice it's cibo, and if you listen to the pronunciation, you'll notice it's VERY similar to the pronunciation of ciao (what Crowley says in that scene, remember?).

Learning this is what gives me a start for what I had been thinking for quite some time, because at the beginning I thought that the spelling thing was something for only the lower level demons, after all, Shax and Furfur have leveled up, but initially they were at the bottom. But not Hastur, Hastur is a duke of hell.

And the confusion between cibo and ciao proves that he must likewise have some kind of problem with language comprehension.

Also, I want to add, I'm not entirely sure if this is a good point, because I may be influenced by the fact that I'm not a native speaker, but Dagon's motivational speech doesn't directly reflect poor language use, but I get a sense that it doesn't reflect great command of it either

And then we go to Crowley, I assume we all think at first glance that Crowley has no problem with language, right? But let me remind you of something: Crowley hates books.

Yes, he has books. But the one book we see, has pictures, lots of pictures. An illustrated astronomy book. In addition to this, Crowley demonstrates a strong dislike of books. Contempt. Hatred. Yes, we've seen him write things. Yes, they are well written. But it doesn't seem to be something he enjoys

With all of this information, I'm going to reach the conclusion that ALL demons have a problem with language, especially written language. Even despite the fact that they are able to speak every existing language.

And I feel that this is a curious detail, because taking into account the powers they have, one would think that they could compensate those difficulties by miracles, right?

They don't. They still have those errors, and you could say it's because none of them have thought of it but... Really? None of them have thought of it? In 6000 years? I don't believe it.

So it must be something intrinsic, there's something they can't change that makes it difficult for them to write/spell.

And we could even go further, because one of the things I find curious, is the fact that Shax has problems with sarcasm. A demon, problems with sarcasm. No one in 6000 years spoke sarcastically to Shax?

I don't have enough arguments to add this as a collective demon problem, since Shax is (I think) the only one we've seen with that problem, but it's something close enough to mention.

Mixing all this up, I should mention the big elephant in the room: Demons have written records of who enters hell

We've already established that the difficulties with language go as far as the dukes, and I feel it's not jumping too far if we say that Beelzebub and Satan possibly shouldn't be spared.

So, who are these reports for? It's not like they're going to read them, I know that's hell, but why would they force themselves to go through that torture?

The only thing that makes sense is that those reports are for someone external, and there are only two options: heaven, or directly God.

And both options seem pretty cruel to me, because we know one thing: angels can read.

Aziraphale can, Muriel can, Gabriel can, we don't have any example of an angel who can't read. Crowley had a book before he fell. So we can assume that demons could read.

They could, and the fact that now they can't makes me see only one possible explanation: Falling caused them those problems.

And I feel that if we mix my two conclusions, the ending is something very ugly. Demons have problems with language, especially written language. Those problems started when they were expelled from heaven. They make written records that are possibly presented to those who turned them into demons.

Basically it is a very strong level of cruelty.

Please recognize the demon's rights. They still deserve to have rights

[silverlightsminky]

Sweet but Not Innocent.

18+ Minors don't interact

Contents & warnings : smut, oral sex, consensual sex, nipple play, orgasms, idol, unsafe sex (wrap it before you tap it) NSFW, shower sex.

Genre : smut

Please be advised that all content presented herein is purely fictional and does not reflect any actual individuals or interactions. The sole purpose of this document is for entertainment purposes only.

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

"Please mingi" you beg pouting slightly while looking at your boyfriend, "please?" You're sitting on your bed while he's getting dressed.

"I already told you, doll not now." he leans down to kiss you as he heads towards the door. You get up and follow him,

"We can do something later when I return, okay? I love you," he says as he grabs his keys and wallet.

"I love you too, have a good day" you say as you give him another quick kiss before closing the door behind him. It's always so tough when he has to go to choreo rehearsals or spend time in the studio.

You knew he wasn't going to be gone for very long he just had to stop by KQ for a few hours in the studio and a rehersal and then he was yours for the rest of the day. You just had to find something to do while you killed time waiting for him.

In the few hours it took Mingi to be done with work you decided to pamper yourself, you got your nails done, you got yourself a massage and you treated yourself to sexy new lingerie and a few other fun surprises for the both of you.

As Mingi arrives home, he removes his shoes and carefully places his keys and wallet back in their designated spot, where he had taken them from this morning. With a gentle voice, he calls out for you as he makes his way towards your bedroom.

"Nae sarang (내 사랑)" ?"

"I'm in the shower babe, I'll be out in a moment!" You respond to him. As he approaches your room, he hears the water turn off, he patiently waits for you sitting on the edge of your bed right where you were begging him to do "something new and exciting" with him earlier in the day.

"Baby!" You squeal as you open the door and enter your bedroom, finding yourself, clad in only a bath robe straddling across his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck, Proceeding to give him a kiss. He laughs into your mouth. "It's only been a few hours, but you act like I've been gone for days." his broken English makes you melt, he's so cute.

"you know it feels like and eternity when I'm away from you" you say, pouting your bottom lip, tracing his collar bone with your finger tips.

He bites your lower lip, holds you by your hips and pulls you towards him and rolls the two of you over you. You're now laying on the bed underneath him as he starts rolling his hips into yours, "I can't remember why I got out of bed," he murmurs, nibbling on your neck and shoulder. "You should have stayed here with me." You purr in response, now tracing his biceps with your fingers.

You just breathe in the scent of him and let him take control. He knows you so well after all those times you were supposed to be asleep but couldn't stop touching each other.

He slips his hand under your robe gently grasping and caressing your skin, exposing your naked form underneath. His eyes, usually gentle, darken as he takes in every inch of you, when they connect with yours, his words confirm everything you already know. "I can never get enough of you." He moves his hand to cradle your face and kisses you like he's been starved for weeks and hasn't eaten a thing.

You giggle while tucking his hair behind his ear.

He leans in close, his forehead touching yours, kissing you deeply. His full body sitting between your hips you writhe and wiggle rubbing yourself against him, feeling the hard bulge forming in his pants. You reach down gently grasping and rubbing your hand against it making it harder and throb under your touch.

"naneun neoleul neomuna wonhae"(나는 너를 너무나 원해) He murmurs in your ear, while your proficiency in the language may be limited, you understood exactly what he meant.

He grabs your hands with one of his and holds them above your head while kissing your soft pink lips his tongue sliping between them to taste yours, your hips bucking up against him feeling his hard cock pushing against his pants as you do so.

He let's go of your hands so he can undo the button on his pants, when he does you help him slide them off his hips, his hard on pushing against the black material of his boxers. He unbuttons his shirt, you find yourself falling in love with him all over again. He's so beautiful.

Mingi leans back down towards you, grabbing your hands and holding them above your head again, this time holding them a little bit tighter as he starts kissing your lips again, making his way down your neck, breathing in your scent. He pushes his hard cock against you, your body quivering. "You're so sexy baby" he says as he takes both your hands into one of his as he reaches down with the other and gently runs his fingers over your folds and into your wet slit, his palm gently rubbing against your clit as he fingers you, As you let out a groan, he takes a second to remove his shirt, revealing all that hard muscle, causing your eyes to fall upon his beautiful body, . His lips meet yours, and you moan from the taste of him. you moan " youre going to make me cum." He runs his hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. "Okay pretty girl" he says "cum for me". The way his voice breaks is enough to send chills down your spine.

"I want to taste you" he says he moves his way down your body and places his lips on your clit and gently starts sucking swirling his tongue around tasting every inch of you.

"I need to feel you" you barely manage to get out, your high taking over your body as your back arches as you have your first release. "

Mongi slips off his boxers, your core aligning with his hard length, his mouth covers your nipple. With his other hand, he starts to stroke himself. A few seconds later, he's inside of you.

"God, I missed this" he grunts. He rolls his hips, causing his tip to hit a sensitive spot inside of you. You bite this shoulder and dig your nails into his chiseled skin. "Oh, you feel so good baby" "Mmmm." You lean up and kiss him again, tasting yourself on his lips. He slides himself out and then thrusts into you, causing your whole body to jolt with pleasure. "I love how good you feel. " You moan as he keeps his pace, making sure that every inch of you is met with his. Your eyes roll back as you feel the start of another orgasm coming.

"Come on, don't hold back. " He slowly slows his pace as your body contracts around him. " Oh god, please don't stop. He pulls you closer, his cock still buried deep inside of you. " I could do this forever." His lips find yours as he starts moving again. You moan against him as you meet each thrust he gives you.

You throw your head back and cry out,

"Oh god, right there. "

Your moans really do something for him

"Oh fuck baby you're going to make me cum" he groans as you grind your hips into his thrusts.

He reaches his climax and shoots his warm load into your quivering pussy and your body pulses with unbridled pleasure as you yourself cum again.

He falls over you, gasping for breath.

he rolls over to lay beside you, tenderly kissing your shoulder, as the golden hour sun shines on his beautiful heaving chest.

"Let's go take a shower, and get you all cleaned up" he says sitting up, he takes you by the hand and leads you back to the still humid bathroom that you just came out of. Your robe gently falling off your shoulder to the floor as you get up, your long hair brushing against your back.

"I didn't even show you the new things I bought today" you playfully pout. Mingi turns on the shower as you watch him from the doorway, head resting against the frame.

"I didn't even get to return the favor..." you almost whisper as you look him up and down, cock still hard, body like a Greek statue .He takes your hand and guides you into the shower. With his back to the water you stand on your tip toes to kiss his lips, without taking your eyes off him slide your hands down the length of his body getting down on your knees, you take his cock into your mouth sucking on the tip. He groans, letting you know he likes it. As you run your tongue around the head, he stares at you. He fists his hands in your hair. " Baby, I love you. You moan onto his cock, giving head is one of your favorite things to do for him.

He hrows his head back as you swallow his cum. He leans down and takes your lips in a deep kiss, his cum still on your tongue. When you finally pull away, you give him a sly smirk. "I love you too".

" He growls as he kisses you again. " You lean up and whisper into his ear. " And don't worry, we'll be doing this again later, I still need to show you what i got today."

[bianotbia]

— 𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 [𝐚𝐬𝐫𝐚 𝐚𝐥𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐫]

˗ˏˋ upon seeing once again a lonely path before him, asra decides to go to unthinkable lenghts to bring his lover back ˎˊ˗

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

𝐈. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥

⤷ innocence, new beginnings, free spirit, recklessness, taken advantage of, inconsideration

⤷ a/n: this is the same fic I posted a long time ago but now quite improved, anyway I revised this right after revising my thesis so excuse me while I try to recover from it :')

⤷ contains: asra pov, *spoiler warning*, angst + fluff (wc: 1.7k)

⤷ now playing : don't wanna cry by seventeen

I don’t wanna cry

I don’t wanna cry

Because I love you, because saying “I love you”

Isn’t enough, no matter what words I say

Leaving me, who cherished only you, where’d you go?

Did you go far away because you didn’t like me anymore?

Like a bad omen the red scarlet sky loomed above Vesuvia on that dreary afternoon, the usual buzz and agitation among the streets weren't there to welcome me like the other times I returned from a trip. With hesitant feet and a bad feeling settling in the bottom of my heart I unconsciously made my way to Julian's lab. Piles and piles of books and loose notes were scattered around every empty surface of the room, “Julian?” hidden behind countless vials of suspicious appearance his lowered head quickly rose up, haunted and exhausted bloodshot eyes looked deep into mine and even though drama ran deep inside him that tortured expression couldn’t be a great sign. “Julian…what happened?” with furrowed brows he opened his mouth but nothing came out of it. Lost on all that mess was a necklace I gifted you a few birthdays ago, the very one you swore to never take off. In that eerily silent night Julian finally let out a faint whisper “I'm sorry, Asra… I'm so sorry”, without any more words being said I desperately headed to the shop unable to believe what my heart already knew.

Don’t play around, I know you’re there

It feels like you’ll appear, so I wait aimlessly

I need to go find you, go find you

Because if I cry right now, I might not be able to see you, so

I don’t wanna cry

I don’t wanna cry

Although I have a lot of tears

I don’t wanna cry

Even after a tiring journey, with feet full of blisters and pain radiating through all of my sore body, still I ran tirelessly across every deserted street of the city wishing to be greeted by you when I arrived. But unlike its usual appearance everything was now dark, cold and silent, and most worrying, no trace of any kind of magic left behind. With only a few pained moans coming from outside, the cards seemed eerily silent now, apparently too scared to even reach out to me. Everything seemed to be the exact same if it wasn't for little heart wrenching details, like our teacups that would usually sit together on top of the counter and now laid broken on the floor, unreadable notes all over the table we used for readings, tangled white sheets and blood stains spread on the pillow cover. The world crumbled all around and my legs finally failed me, I gripped the soft fabric of the bed hoping that any sort of familiar scent other than death could still have been left behind, “No, no, no…please…this can't be real” were the only words echoing over and over in my thoughts as uncountable hours drifted by through the night. Exhaustion washed over me as the pitch black sky finally brightened outside and the first morning rays made their way across the room to my bloodshot eyes, the dawning of another day while the light of my life is no longer by my side felt like a sick joke played by destiny, and if that night I could have been able to be asleep even if for a single minute I would have hoped to never wake up again if that meant to live even a day without you.

This path that used to be familiar, now feels unfamiliar

Asking me once again if this is the path I know of

Could that person be looking for me?

I’m looking for you right now

The following days dreaded over me like a curse, working on the palace alongside Julian’s never ending laments, Nadia's countless complaints over her headaches and Lucio's profanities screamed over my ears about his worsening condition made the clock’s arms drag through the day. If you were here perhaps none of this would matter, maybe I wouldn't notice any of their remarks. As days pass by the cards still remain silent and I can't seem to connect with them anymore for a piece of me has been lost forever just like many other parts of myself, a piece I never thought would take so much of me. Now desperate to find a solution for this endless nightmare, once again just like a fool I find myself longing for the unknown and hoping for the uncertain.

Don’t play around, I know you’re there

It feels like you’ll appear, so I wait aimlessly

I need to go find you, go find you

Tears are building up and starting to blur my vision

I don’t wanna cry

I don’t wanna cry

Although I have a lot of tears

I don’t wanna cry

In an unusual quiet morning at the palace the only sound around is Julian’s incoherent mutters as he scribbles on his notes like a mad man, after tapping his fingers on the edge of the table and running them through his disheveled hair he finally let out an exasperated sigh “Why did you like them so much?” with widened eyes the words took a while to process inside my head, he turned to me with his usual tired gaze only this time with a deepened sense of guilt “Sorry… this didn't really come out the way I wanted… I mean you’ve met so many people in this life, but you can't deny that you practically worshiped… them” for a brief moment my entire mind went black and suddenly for once in so long I finally felt a hint of your magic in the air “Why were they so special, Asra?” Julian asked. A forgotten memory took over my head and started playing right before my eyes, a faded afternoon after we were closing the shop, with already two cups of steaming hot tea on the table “Did you know I can do palm reading?” you said with a grin growing over your lips “Oh, you do?” concentrated while organizing the cards still I let out a chuckle, you took my hand into yours slowly tracing unknown patterns into it, following each line and bend, a faint magic started coursing through my veins coming from your addictive touch, your gaze finally met mine after bursting out in laughter. “You don't even know what you're doing, do you?” the clear sound of your laugh played over my ears like a heaven’s calling “You did fall for it, silly—”. Echoes of happier times slowly fade away as the scent of the cold tea in my hands makes its way to my nostrils, back to Julian's question that he expectantly waits for an answer, the only thing I can think of is “They made a really good tea”.

I’m alright (I’m not alright)

I don’t want to see you (I really want to see you)

I need to say it

These lies that don't even come from my heart

Unbearable days, endless hours and uncountable minutes have passed since you've been gone, yet our memories still repeat over inside my mind like a never ending dream, or perhaps a nightmare that lasts for an eternity. For weeks I’ve been looking into every book trying to find a way to bring you back. Lucio has been more restless than usual, muttering things under his shaky breath and whispering curses along the halls, matters of life and death. Days after, just like every other year, on the night of his birthday the count threw a magnanimous party for all the kingdom with feverish lights dancing upon the crowded streets of Vesuvia making the veil from dream and reality as thin as the finest linen from the eastern lands. That night he called all of us over for a feast with the finest meats and drinks of the kingdom, but in the blink of an eye the air started to get heavier while the other guest voices also got more distant by every minute, a familiar voice finally spoke to me “Well, well, well… I wasn’t expecting you to actually carry out with this mad plan Asra” the Magician’s voice finally echoed through my ears “I’m afraid it’s the only way for them to be saved” each breath burning over my lungs “Who do you want to save, them or yourself, Asra?” the smoke stings my eyes while a single teardrop traveled down my face reflecting the blazing flames before me “Please, just bring them back to me”.

But my heart won’t listen to these words as I thought

Come back, come back, come back

When half of me is gone, how can I live as one?

I don’t wanna cry

I don’t wanna cry

Although I have a lot of tears

I don’t wanna cry

The memories of what happened that night now lay hidden among the many other secrets that support our lives. The morning after dawned upon me as if I drank every drop of wine on Vesuvia, with a light buzz on my head I still can feel the suffocating atmosphere lingering on my lungs, a dizzying sensation that takes over my sore body along with ancient voices that I’m far too familiar with, I believe the cards want to to you and upon a split second of enlightenment my feet lead me to the very woods that once held safe both of our laughter echoing through it. Blinded by hope and desperation I stand before the whimsical cave while hearing faint whispers calling me up to the depths of it, just like a string pulling my heart, I let myself be guided through its shadows grazing my hand on its damp colorful walls. Just like waking up from a fever dream I find myself standing in the middle of the water, luscious lights dance around my body when I finally grasp something that sends a slight sparkle of magic through my whole body. Among desperation and adoration our eyes at last meet again, tears go down my face and as much as I want to say a million things, I restrain myself to just hold you again in my arms and never let go of you.

I don’t wanna cry

When we see each other again

I don’t wanna cry

the images aren't mine! all rights reserved to © bianotbia 2024. please do not claim, translate, copy or modify any of my works as your own. reblogs are appreciated! ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

[portraitsofguilt]

hi moss can we please get a smut continuation of the making out w sage short please :’D

✮ — NOT JUST A FLING ; ling ‘sage’ ying wei

SYNOPSIS . . . continuation of ‘ MAKING OUT WITH SAGE ‘ with the mindset of jett didn’t disturb the reader and sage MINORS DNI . . . afab reader. nsfw ! — lowercase writing intended, fingering, soft feelings, service top sage vibes going on, neither sage or the reader is sure what to do, so much feeling, this is really just sage fingering you and you whining

wc ; 991

MOSS' NOTES . . . here you go dear anonie, this isn’t as long as it was supposed to be, but hope you like it anyway :)  

"sage…" you breathed, panting lightly. she pulled back a little, brushing her forehead against yours, her breath hitting your lips. you ran your fingers through her hair, tangling your fingers in the long strands as you stared into her eyes.

you saw the desire in hers mirrored in yours as she bit down on her lower lip, a nervous gesture. the heat of the moment was starting to dissipate but you knew that if you pushed this now it wouldn't end well, you weren't ready for this kind of relationship, nor would sage ever be. your mind was muddled with the fantasies of you and her together, in this exact position, wanting to full fill them.

"i don't want us to stop, not yet." sage confessed with an exasperated sigh, her hand slipping out from under your shirt and the tips of her fingers moving under the waistline of your sweatpants. your eyes shoot from hers to her hand, your breathing picking up at what she is suggesting.

it was a wild dream that was coming to life right in front of you, the heat in your chest and between your legs rising as sage’s hand nudged your pants further down under your hips. “i have thought about this more than i am willing to admit…” she confesses, her eyes locked onto yours. her hand slipped under your underwear, and when it made contact with your bare skin it sent a jolt of pure electricity straight through you, making your heart race. sage looked up at you, biting her bottom lip nervously and hiding her face in the crook of your neck.

“i know, i have too…” you say quietly, your hands running through her tangled hair. she was so close, your bodies were pressed together. your stomach felt as tight as a rubber band, every nerve ending screaming at you to just take that leap and let go.

your words gave her enough courage to slowly start rubbing your clothed folds, the friction of her hand barely being enough to settle your hunger.  you groaned softly in frustration, your hands reaching out to hold onto her shoulders. “i can't wait anymore, please...” you asked her huskily, her fingers moving at a languid pace that you had never felt before, “please, sage...” you whispered again.  she nodded gently, her thumb sliding over your clit, making you whimper and reach to grip the hem of her t-shirt.

sage leaned back slightly to look at you properly, her expression was still shy, still scared. "do you want me to make you come?" she asked, looking away briefly. her voice was soft and you could hear the insecurity behind it. it pained you to see her like this, all unsure and afraid, but the thought of her touching you,  making you feel even closer to complete bliss than you'd ever been, was too good to pass up. “yes, please, that's all i want." you whispered, a hopeful smile playing on her pink lips as she listened.

you heard her take a deep breath before the pressure on your core intensified, panties being pulled aside and without wasting any time on any more foreplay a finger slid inside of you.  the first touch was light, barely there. then you felt her finger press inside of you, and the pressure increased steadily until you were moaning loudly, your whole body arching off the bed and your hands grabbing at her arm to steady yourself. sage seemed to grow bolder as you moaned louder, your legs tightening around her torso in a silent plea for more. sage took her fingers out of you and started massaging you instead, her fingers working at your clit, which was pulsating wildly. 

it was almost enough to send you over the edge but sage didn't seem to notice, too focused on pleasuring you. your arms wrapped tightly around her neck, your nails digging into the soft flesh of her shoulder as you tried to keep up with her gentle ministrations. “sage,” you whimpered, your thighs shaking as she continued to work at you.  “sage...” you repeated again, the moan growing in intensity and desperation.  you could feel your orgasm building, seconds away, and the pressure on your clit was becoming unbearable. 

“sage...oh god, sage...” you whimpered, your fingernails biting into her skin even harder as your whole body shook violently. you screamed out, one hand grasping onto her shoulder and the other dropping to grip at the sheets below your trembling form. you couldn't control yourself, the sensations overtaking you, the need to get everything out flowing like lava, burning away all of your inhibitions. sage kept her rhythm up, pushing her finger deeper inside you until finally when your body exploded, your entire being consumed by white-hot ecstasy.

you stayed like that for a while, your muscles relaxing and your breathing slowing down, and sage was left to caress your sweaty skin with her hand, watching you silently as you recovered from your climax. she smiled at you tenderly, her eyes sparkling in adoration. you blushed and smiled back sheepishly, turning away from her in embarrassment as she pulled out of you.

sage sighed fondly and leaned up to peck you on the cheek.  “do you want to shower?” she asked, pulling away from you slightly. you shook your head as she sat up to get off of the bed, grabbing her by the wrist. “no, no i just... can you stay with me?" you asked meekly, "please..." you added quickly, knowing how needy you sounded. sage's lips curled into a tiny, teasing smirk and she nodded, sitting back down beside you and taking your hand in hers.

you cuddled into her side, leaning on her shoulder as your eyes fluttered shut. the feeling of her warm embrace made you feel safe and safe made you feel loved. you wanted to stay like this forever, maybe even after that.

TAGLIST . . . @mxyx-rx444 @darlingmisa @eveningdaydreamz @pixiegirlz @wolfheartsstuff @femmelvr

[pinkslt]

Strings of Desperation

Ride it: Chapter II

Parts: Chapter I

🔞 minors do not interact 🔞

Pairing: Neteyam x Omatikaya Reader

Warnings: masturbating, sexual fantasies, reader manipulating neteyam into becoming obsessed with her, angst, fake concern

Word Count: 2.0k

Author's Note: if you don't want to interact with the 🔞 part, I suggest you jump over it and start reading from the first time skip

Synopsis: After last night, Neteyam can't stop thinking about you. He realizes he could lose you and he holds onto any strings he can, ending in holding onto the strings of desperation.

Neteyam couldn’t sleep that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. It was as if you were haunting his every thought, refusing to let him find peace.

In the middle of the night, Neteyam rises quietly from his mattress. He looks around, making sure his parents and siblings are asleep and walks outside. He wants to clear his mind. Walking not far from the village, he stops and leans back against a tree, exhaling a heavy sigh.

You're all over his mind and he can't seem to think about anything else. He drops his head in his hands and groans loudly, pouring all of his emotions in the palms of his hands.

The mere thought of you, your pretty eyes and plump lips, your sweet voice and dirty words. It all drives him crazy.

His head rises from his hands and he looks down, noticing the impact you have on him. He rips off his loin cloth, exposing his roch-hard cock. He hisses at the sudden contact with the cold air and not waiting another moment, he wraps his hand around his girthy cock. He pumps his fist up and down, his breath becoming raggedy.

"Fuck!" a moan escapes his mouth as he throws his head back against the tree, shutting his eyes tightly.

He imagines your hand instead of his, kneeling before him and looking up at him with doe eyes. He moves his hand faster, harsh pants escaping him.

You spit on his tip, smearing your saliva all over his length. When you reach the tip, you brush your thumb against it. He holds his bottom lip between his teeth as his movements become sloppier.

He could almost feel those fingers on his cock, gripping him tightly. And with a few last strokes, he reached his orgasm, pumping thick ropes of hot, sticky cum.

"Woman, you're going to kill me one day."

----

Practicing archery. That is what Neteyam chose to do as soon as he finished breakfast with his family. Grabbing his bow, he runs off into the forest at the usual training spot.

Getting in position, he pulls back the string and inhales sharply. He can still feel your scent, all over him. It was like you possessed him or something. He can't get you off his mind. Your eyes, lips, hands, tail, everything about you was inexplicably beautiful.

You are like a vakvok. You are something beautiful but dangerous. Pretty but deadly.

"Well is not here my favorite warrior?" your voice shakes him out of his thoughts and he lets go of the arrow, piercing the target. He hears you giggle behind him as you approach him, walking past him and towards the arrow that's now stuck in the tree. With a single pull, you manage to pull out the arrow. Walking back to him, you hand him his arrow, your hands touching for less than he wanted, leaving him longing for more.

"What are you doing here?" he asks while lowering the bow, growing irritated by the smirk on your face. He wants nothing more but to slap it off your face.

"I came to see you. I knew you would be here." you wrap your arms around his middle and rest your chin on his chest, looking up at him.

Neteyam scoffs and unwraps your arms from him, pushing you away.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you place your hand on his cheek, stroking his face lovingly with your thumb. "You know you can tell me."

"I'm tired." he sighs.

"Tired of what, Ma Neteyam?" your eyes search his for anything that could give you an answer. His own widen in return hearing the name fall past your lips. Finally, he gives in.

"I am upset with you. You kiss me and act like we are mates and then you leave me alone. Why do we have to hide? Why do you have to hide me?" he says as he pours his heart out. He doesn't want to be away from you.

Fuck, he wants you

"Neteyam, you know why I'm doing this." you pull away and your hand falls from his face.

"No, I don't. Tell me." his hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you closer. His gaze is sharp and hard.

"You are the next Olo'eyktan, I am the daughter of a healer. I am nothing." you say, your gaze falling on the forest floor. You feel tears prickle at the corners of your eyes.

"Don't say that." he whispers, "You are my best friend, my love. You make my life better." he whispers in your ear as he wraps his strong arms around you and pulls you closer. He hugs you tightly, resting his chin on top of your head.

You smirk. Your plan is working. You have no feelings for him, he's just a toy. You want him to become obsessed with you, desperate for your touch. Right now you were having him in your arms on the verge of crying.

Oh what a fun game to play.

"I should leave. After all, you can't be seen with a simple healer like me." you whisper, trying to pull yourself from his embrace. He sniffles quietly, trying to hide his tears.

"Don't go. Please." his voice shakes as his tears roll down his cheeks, wetting his face.

You can't believe what your ears heard. He's crying. The mighty warrior, the perfect soldier and the most loyal comrade, crying in your arms, pushing away his tough exterior and turning into a mess in your arms.

"Please." he mewls, "Don't leave me. I can't live without you." his voice shakes with emotion as he pulls you closer and if possible, he would merge your bodies together.

You almost laugh, almost.

"Don't worry, Neteyam." you coo him softly, hand rubbing his bicep, "I'm not going anywhere."

He sighs, a wave of relief washing over him. He is so relieved that you aren't going to abandon him. You are the reason he lives, his heart beats for you and you only.

Neteyam can’t bear the thought of losing you. From the time you were both children, he felt an unwavering need to protect you. To him, you were his innocent companion, someone who needed to be shielded from the dangers and cruelties of the world beyond.

That sense of duty had only grown stronger as the two of you matured. Every glance your way carried a silent promise: he would keep you safe, no matter the cost. To Neteyam, you were more than a friend—you were a light in his life, a precious part of his world that he couldn’t afford to lose.

But as time went on, he realized it wasn’t just about protection. It was about the way you made him feel—grounded, alive, and endlessly drawn to you. You had become his anchor, his everything, and the thought of a world without you in it was unbearable. It terrified him more than any enemy ever could.

His embrace is warm, muscles bulging against you as you're pressed tightly against. His strong arms cradle you carefully, as if you are something fragile that he could break at any moment. His mind is fuzzy, clouded, filled with many, many emotions and thoughts. The anger he felt for you moments ago faded away, replaced by the love he feels for you, the love that is actually hurting him.

You don't say a word. You prefer to stay wrapped in his arms, flush against his chest as you wait for him to calm down. He is so cute. Crying over the fact that you may walk out of his life and never face him again. You realize he's obsessed with you, with your presence, and by keeping you close to him nonetheless, he doesn't realize he's hurting himself.

But you do, and you will never reveal it.

[unovanhunny]

[Finally getting around to more ficlets. This'll be my solution since I can't edit asks anymore]

I gotchu anon! Here's the post!

Ingo's the one who reached out to Emmet and so he gets "Captured" when they're found together, and Ingo is going against his country's wishes to even be there at the rebel camp. It's most certainly a twisty business.

It was a mixed reaction when Ingo pulled back the flap of the tent and entered the space his brother alone occupied. Initially, he had his head covered by his cloak's hood, dull grey and inconspicuous. But as he pulled it down, sure now that Emmet was truly alone, Ingo hoped he would be given the chance to do what he came here for.

Emmet was used to people coming into his tent at all hours to discuss strategy or talk, so the fact that someone entered wasn't unusual. The hood puzzled him, made him slightly wary. But with the hood pulled down and the intruder exposed, he stared at Ingo with an expression of surprise, trepidation, relief and maybe just a hint of happiness. It didn't last long as he drew his sword and pointed it at the leader he and his people were trying to defeat. Ingo put his hands up defensively, taking a step back, tossing open the cloak to show he was entirely unarmed and not a threat.

"Emmet, please... I'm just here to talk."

Blade still held aloft, Emmet narrowed his eyes at his brother. "What? What could you possibly have to talk to me about if it is not your unconditional surrender. Or at least a ceasefire to this."

There was conflict in Ingo's expression, a kind of sad desperation in his eyes, worried grinding of teeth against his bottom lip and a nearly hopelessness in the way his shoulders sagged. "I... I can't do that."

"Then I have no business with you and you should leave while I still give you the chance-"

"Please! Don't! This is the only way I could think to have a conversation with you! It's completely impossible to do so on the battlefield and no one knows I'm here. I really do just... Want to talk. I've missed you."

A silent standstill, unwavering arm still holding the blade. It was clear who had the upper hand here. Their eyes bored into each other, taking in every detail of the other they could, reading the intentions, feelings, story, on the other's face.

Finally Emmet lowered the blade and let out a sigh through his nose. Sword stored back in its sheath, he gestured to one of the chairs that circled a table with papers and maps for Ingo to take a seat on. He didn't fully trust him, how could he? But he couldn't find it in himself to turn away his brother despite being on opposite sides of this conflict. Clearing the table so Ingo couldn't see anything important, Emmet sat across from him with an expectant look, the edge of apprehension clear.

"So. You wanted to talk."

"Yes. I haven't seen you in so many years... You've changed so much, I almost didn't recognise you!"

"Yes, well, working to overthrow a twisted and corrupt regime that touts itself as righteous will do that."

Ingo whithered visbly at the comment. He had hoped that they could have a pleasant conversation, but he had the feeling Emmet would do this with anything he tried to say. His heart squeezed.

"I... Never meant for this. You must understand that, right? I would never want to fight you. If I had any choice I-"

"There is always a choice, Ingo. This conversation will not go the way you wish. I will not say I hate you, but we can never be brothers the way we once were. Everything is different now. You must understand that."

Ingo was quiet for a long time after that, gaze burning a hole in the table to hold back the burn of tears threatening to fill his eyes. Finally, he sighed.

"Yes... I know. Of course. It's foolish to pretend otherwise. I had... Maybe I was deluding myself. But I still wanted to try."

Once again it was silent. It made the space that stretched out between them painfully obvious. Impossibly vast and insurmountable.

"Did you really risk so much to simply speak with me? If anyone else had seen you, you know you would have been captured and made our bargaining chip." Emmet spoke cooly, ignoring the anxious itch at the back of his mind over that.

"We already said it was a foolish and fruitless endeavor, but it was genuine. I really did risk so much to get a moment with you.... I'm glad you don't hate me. You could and I wouldn't be able to fault you." Ingo's gaze wandered, looking anywhere that wasn't Emmet. "I am not as in charge as I may seem. Yes, I'm the face of the nation, the one who speaks the rallying words. But I'm not the one making the decisions. If I were, as soon as I knew you were involve, things would have gone very differently."

That had been the suspicion for some time. That Ingo was merely a figurehead. The Young King, so dedicated to his country, appointed by God to bring their nation to Greatness, could easily rally his people around him, words convincing them to follow orders that others had issued. An appealing mouthpiece.

".... I will tell you what. It is dangerous for you to stay for long. I know that someone will stop by sooner or later and the only option for you then is surrender. Go home, go back to your advisors and your palace. But... If you were to come by again at the same time tomorrow or the day after, I may be alone again."

Was this the beginning of a plan forming? Yes. Ingo was beloved. If they, he, could find a way to pry the claws of his advisors out of him, there was a chance they could get him to speak of peace, to change the public's view of the conflict, want to stop the fighting. Come to an understanding. So if his brother wanted to stop by and start to build a relationship with him again, then so be it. It might just solve all of their problems.

---

The plan was to give Ingo enough to keep him coming back, understand his thoughts and feelings and turn them towards a more favorablr outcome, find ways to go behind the backs of his advisors. And it was working!

But something else was happening. Something they both felt acutely. Emmet had been right, they could never have the same brotherly relationship they used to. The way their hearts ached for each other, the way it felt natural when their lips touched, their tongues tasted, it was far from what they once had.

And they indulged.

Of course Ingo was so easy to influence when he wanted to just spend time with Emmet without risking life and limb every time. This had to end. And his slowly cooling passion for the righteous rhetoric he fed to the people had started to make its impact.

It was on a morning where they pushed their luck too far that it finally fell to pieces. Neither of them wanted Ingo to leave, so he convinced himself to stay later and later until they were awoken by an indignant voice.

What was the enemy leader doing there? In their own leader's tent? If not for the fact that they were twins, they would think he was trying to seduce their leader into surrender. But he must be using their shares history to his advantage. Why else would he be there? And that he was still there only solidified that his tactic must have started to work! Emmet had gotten weak to him!

Everything felt like it was going too fast and too slow in the same moment. Separated, Emmet kept far away from the king that wasn't his but who had his heart. He had been manipulated, he was in no fit state to make rational decisions about Ingo now!

It was with desperation Emmet tried to explain his tactics, his plan. He wasn't manipulated, he was the one doing the manipulation! Ingo was integral to finding an end to this, finally! One where no one else had to die!

"Emmet, do you really think that's the way this ends? With peace? I didn't realise you were such an idealist."

The words struck a cord within him and he felt a sick twist in his stomach. "What do you mean..."

"This doesn't end until all the ones in charge are dead. Of course this King of theirs is just for show. We use him as bait so we can draw out the ones really pulling the strings. And then we kill them. Then and only then will it be safe for us. Sure, they're more likely to send armies after us before they submit to any demands, but morale will take a hit as more soldiers die without their King to guide them."

"Or... They rally their armies to avenge and recapture their King and use him as motivation!"

"That's a risk we're willing to take at this point. You've done the best you could until now trying to lead us, but this conflict won't end until we do something decisive. And you just so happened to have the most decisive piece of this entire thing conveniently stowed away in your tent. We can't rest until the advisors are dead, and by then maybe we'll even spare your King brother. You'll be the one to take over, though. After all, you have as much right as him don't you?"

It was a cold feeling, knowing the ones he trusted most had an entire plan they came up with involving him without ever consulting him. And that things were out of his hands now. The bloodshed that may ensue from this would be worse than that leading up to it, and it was his own fault.

"Can I at least see him?" Despite being at war, only now did it feel as though his world was moments from crumbling and falling apart. Ingo had become so integral to his life that the thought of being kept away from him burned a hot painful hole in the pit of his stomach.

"Eventually, and under supervision. We can't allow you to jeopardize any of our plans now. But you played your part perfectly, so we can give you a little lenience."

To think he thought Ingo was the only one to have been nothing but a symbol to be used as a face for this war. They really were twins in the end, weren't they?

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Wreckless - The Old Switcheroo

*Warning Adult Content*

Emmett

I'm not at all worried about what's about to happen.

I know Finnegan will take very good care of me.

That doesn't mean it's not a little bit weird.

I'm worried about his headspace and mine and I'm worried that there are still a lot of unresolved issues but I also feel like we're on sturdier ground than we have been for weeks. 

It feels good.

Still, bottoming?

I'm worried it'll permanently mess with Finnegan.

I'm going to do my best to make sure that doesn't happen by turning this around fairly quickly but it'll be what it'll be.

First, we need lube and one special thing I brought with me.

He watches as I get into my suitcase but I do my best to hide the toys.

"Come over here, let me at you," he says and I will admit, it's sexy.

I don't know if his tone is different or it's all on me but either way, I listen.

He puts me on my back and gets on all fours above me.

It's a very good start.

He kisses me, then works his way down my chest and with every kiss and flick of his tongue, I relax a bit. 

He learns that I am a sucker for nipple play because I sound like a wanton whore when he gently teases one with his teeth. 

He makes me crazy and when he slides down my stomach and takes me in his mouth I gasp but he doesn't stay there long.

He teases my balls, then hikes my knees up and works himself lower.

Confession, no one has ever rimmed me.

My hands end up fisting the sheets and it takes me a moment to relax but once I do, bliss.

"Damn, that's... God that feels good, darling."

His fingers join in and he's working me open patiently.

It's kind of him and the last remaining tension leaves my muscles.

I make him turn so I can get at him a little and he obliges.

He's being so careful that I have to pull him down a bit lower so I can really get at him and I start licking him from base to tip and playing with him.

I work a finger in as he gets the second in to me and it's sexy as hell, this reciprocated play.

Before he decides I'm ready and moves, I press the toy against his bud and push it gently in.

"Emmett."

"You're going to love it and this way while you're fucking me, you're getting fucked too."

He has to come before I do for my plan to work and this will pretty much guarantee that happens.

"I want you so much, darling. Come fuck me."

Finnegan

My ass is buzzing, he's been working on my cock with his amazing mouth and all of that overrides any nervousness I may be feeling.

"Are you okay on your back or do you want to flip over?"

"I'm gonna flip, babe, so you can really pound me."

Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

I lean back to give him some room to maneuver and soon that glorious man is on his hands and knees in front of me.

I lube my cock well and drizzle more along the crack of his ass.

I simultaneously can't believe I'm going to do this and can't wait.

"Ready, Emmett?"

"Hmm. I'm all yours, sweetheart."

It's been years since I did this.

Did I forget how tight, how perfect, it feels?

I press myself in slowly, giving him a few moments to get used to me before I really start working myself in deep.

By the time I'm fully seated I already want to release, already.

"You feel so good."

He hasn't said much but the sounds coming out of his mouth are sexy as hell.

"Damn it , Finnegan. Give me that dick, I can take it."

I start slow but soon realize that...

"I'm not going to last two minutes, you're so damn tight, feel so good."

He flicks his head to the side in an attempt to get his hair out of his face and I decide to handle that for him.

I run my hand up his back and slowly gather his hair into my hand.

When I reach the top of his neck I give it a little tug and drive my cock deep.

The moan that comes out of his mouth makes me want to do it again and that's it, I'm not going to stop now.

My hips take over but he's not going anywhere, not with his hair in my fist.

"Shit, Finnegan. Yes," he gasps.

It's all the encouragement I need.

Every time I thrust, the toy moves in delicious ways and it's absolutely too much stimulation at once.

He sounds perfect, feels unbelievable and I am cumming way before I want to but I can't hold back, it hits like a freight train and I lose myself for a minute.

I collapse against his back and manage to pull out.

We end up flat on the bed holding each other awkwardly.

"I love you so much, darling," he tells me, his voice muffled by the pillow.

And I love him. too.

This man is willing to leave his house to make me happy.

I like to tell myself that he's proud because he hates to let me do things for him and maybe he is but he's willing to let me do anything to him and he'd do anything for me.

"I love you too, Emmett."

Maybe he'll do one more thing for me... I think he wants to.

As soon as I mutter those words he shifts out from underneath me and I end up on my stomach on the bed.

"My turn," he whispers before pulling me back and lifting my hips into the air so I'm propped on my knees on the edge of the bed.

He pushes the toy in deeper and then slowly, slowly pulls it out.

"I hope you enjoyed yourself, darling because you're not going to like this."

It's like a switch in my brain flips.

My breathing hitches and my balls tighten even though I just came.

He pushes the toy back in quickly, making me moan, then pulls both my hands behind my back and holds them with one of his his.

I never fuck when I can't get off but somehow the fact that I can't is just adding to the mental games my brain is playing and it's good, so good, right now.

I'm like a swimmer trying to keep his head above water and finally give up.

I'm getting swallowed by 'Little Space' steamrolled by my Emmett and I give in.

"Emmett..."

"Shh. I'm going to do what I want and give you what you deserve. Can you be a good boy?"

'I can... I am a good boy.'

He spanks me twice, hard, jostling the toy with each smack.

"Answer me."

Two more smacks rain down before he yanks the toy out and pushes in with one thrust.

"No, Emmett. No."

He releases my arms and I try to use them, try to move forward away from him but he just laughs at me.

"No, no. I..."

I can't take it but I want to and he will make me.

"You will stay right here, babe."

He slows down just a bit and I can finally catch my breath.

"You're going to take me all damn night. I'm going to seed your tight little ass, plug you back up and then use you again after dinner. Then I'll do it again before bed. Maybe that'll be enough to teach you a lesson."

He fucks me long and deep and I am on overload.

All that matters is making him shoot and release as hard as he deserves to.

"I need you. Fill me up, Emmett."

He loves that and soon he's cumming hard, pressing in deep.

"I missed you, 'Finn'."

And I've missed him, too and this.

I've missed this so, so much.  

[running-with-kn1ves]

Sacrifice Turned Mate

Female Lamia X GN! Reader

A/N: These next two months are going to be focused a lot on monsters/cryptids and some darker yandere ideas due to the wonderful holidays so prepare!

TW: Blood/gore(light), scratches, bruises, kidnapping, injected venom/poison, human sacrifice, snake lady, feelings of suffocation,

Synopsis: Sent as an offering to appease the lamia in the forest, you instead are turned into her unwilling mate. (Borderline smut)

"Look, my prey." She cooed in your ear. 

You winced, opening one eye to see the image in front of you. The broken mirror showed your reflection and the lamia behind, a woman with no shame in watching herself poke fun at your expense.

"Delicious..." she mumbled against your shoulder. "I can't get enough of you." 

Nyoka’s long, forked tongue came out to give a series of wet licks to your neck, each one slimier than the last. She sucked on the tender flesh of the nape of your neck, hands roaming around to grab what they could. The woman was no more handsier than usual.

"You like what I do to you, don't you.." she chuckled, continuing to defile you with noxious kisses. "Walking in here on your own free will, hardly even struggling..." Her hand moved up your loose, baggy clothes. 

Your shirt --already partly transparent-- allowed small areas of skin to show in the mirror, which became even more noticeable once the snake woman lifted the fabric upward. She pressed you hard up against her, hands daring to bruise your flesh as she nipped at you. Her hips were flush with your own as she slowly tiptoed her fingers down your belly. 

In the mirror, you could see your pathetic state. Dark circles had formed under your eyes and your legs were bruised with long purple marks, props to Nyoka. The lamia ritual of wrapping one's tail around their mate in a “loving” embrace was not designed with fragile human bodies in mind. The woman had tainted you with her appendage and bite marks, all to prove that you were nothing but hers. You loathed each mark; every time one would disappear, a new one would form out of Nyoka’s obsessive upkeep. 

Her nimble fingers reached your crotch, palming it with a soft but firm hand. She felt the warmth from your heat, taking note of how your hips swayed against her hand. 

"Already all hot and bothered, are we?" 

You bit your tongue as she rubbed circles on your clothed groin, her tail pressing even further down onto your legs. She was wrapped around you intricately, her long and girthy tail spreading your legs apart. The tail’s scales shined a dark red, its warmth making you unconsciously lean into her touch. The den Nyoka had kept you held up in was unbearably cold, purposely done for she knew you wouldn’t be able to resist her warm touch; especially after an evening of sunbathing. The creature was willing to do whatever necessary to get you to come crawling.

The mirror you faced was cracked and falling apart, the golden lining around it showing rust and  decay. Though you could still see your reflection perfectly, your weak hands barely fighting off the snake woman as she fondled you. 

Her plush breasts pushed into your back as her hair tickled your shoulders. 

"Gonna be good for me, right? We can't have any incidents like last time..." Her voice lowers as she speaks when you look away; grabbing the brunt of your ass she stares at you in the mirror. "You know it's no fun when you struggle. So be a good little mouse and do as you're told." 

She laughs in your ear, her sharp teeth ghosting over your skin. Nyoka massaged the flesh of your bottom-- gripping palms full. Spreading your legs a bit more with her tail, she left your crotch visible in the mirror. Lifting up your shirt, your exposed stomach appeared like a delicious treat to her in the reflective glass. Licking her lips and pointing her nail, the lamia raked your tender flesh. Small beads of blood quickly filled the newfound gap, making your eyes go wide. 

"No!" You cried out. 

 The searing pain occurred promptly as her hand pulled back. The venom in her nails had tainted your skin, blood turning a faint black as it oozed out of you. Sweat slicked your brow as you desperately tried to cover your stomach in pain. The woman caught your hands, pulling them back and up to leave you exposed. Your soft stomach was painted with the long gash slowly leaking a dark red. The skin was irritated and pulsing. You swallowed the pained cries bubbling in your throat, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes as you felt the sting of her hand press against your abdomen. 

If you could just have the upper hand this once, you prayed! The pain fueled your anger. 

You could see the cut in the mirror, maroon staining the snake woman's hand as she brought it up to her mouth, her tongue slithering out and feverishly sucking on the blood coating her fingers. Nyoka’s other hand gripped your chest, fingers grabbing the bare flesh as her nails flexed into your skin. Hearing your small hiccups of pain turn louder she massaged your chest, finger tips circling your nipple as she tried to soothe you. 

"Now now," She hushed. With her hand back down to your abdomen, you worried she'd strike you again. "Don't cry too much my prey; you've endured worse haven't you?" 

It was true; you had endured worse by her hand. You thought back to the hours she'd spent curling you up in her tail, covering you in bruises and bite marks to make sure no other lamia or creature in existence would dare to try and court you-- better yet even touch you. For hours you laid there, listening to her sweet hums and feeling the hot agony of small drops of venom entering your system. It was the woman’s way of both protecting you, and rendering you helpless. 

You panicked at seeing her claws grow nearer to your stomach. Trying to pry yourself out of her tail, your bitten and broken nails scratched at her layers of scales. Nyoka grunted, trying to squeeze you harder. But you persisted, wailing and twisting to escape. After the hours upon hours you had spent with her, you’d think you knew better than to try and run away. But the adrenaline pumping in your veins along with the poison was clouding your better judgment.

The lamia resorted to what she knew best; a move that you knew she’d use eventually, but one you hoped you’d be able to overcome. Shoving her hand past your flailing arms she pressed her palm against the heat in between your legs. Your loose tunic had fallen and was scrunched in between as she pressed hard circles to your sensitive core. The gash on your stomach was tainting the off-white fabric, dark blood garishly shining through. Your offering clothes were ripped and sullied now that you had been staying with the lamia. Her den was warm and mostly clean, but your multiple escape attempts had left you a torn, dirty mess. 

Nyoka felt you twitch against her, stubbornly trying to ignore the feeling of arousal that she was stirring. The lamia disliked having to resort to such shameless methods to get you to still, but she knew you'd be trained soon enough. With the amount of venom she implemented in your system over these past several weeks, you’d soon fall to her every touch. 

You looked away shamefully from the mirror as your body reacted to her touch, groans of refusal were slowly turning to whines. You were holding out longer than either of you expected, but you could feel each nerve growing more and more sensitive. pleasure was building up as you struggled, her hand pushing deeper, harder. 

Trying to bite her arm, you found your head seized by her other hand. She removed it from teasing your clothed nipple, grabbing your face from her arm. 

"You're naughty," she strained to say, watching you bare your teeth at her. "You're lucky I don’t pull out those pretty teeth of yours as punishment, or rip out that disobedient tongue." 

You pulled against the lamia as your hips bucked up into her hand. Snatching up your tunic she shoved her hand down into your crotch, fondling anything she could get her hands on. 

“My little prey, you're causing more trouble than you’re worth. It truly sounds like you want to be punished…” You shook your head violently, trying to suppress the moan that desired to escape. You could tell the lamia was growing frustrated with your stubbornness. “Look at yourself, look at what you’ve become.” 

She forced your smushed face to stare at yourself in the mirror, watching as she rubbed her hand in between your legs. You were spread for her, an image she would enjoy if it weren’t for your defiance. Your face was squished in between her fingers, thoughts fading in and out between enjoying the ecstasy and trying to pry yourself away from her. 

Your body was several different levels of twisted as Nyoka wrapped herself around you, tightening her coil around you to keep you down. You watched as your hips came to meet her hand, only to try and move as far away as possible. Your body was conflicted. 

Eyes turning a bloodshot red, face damp with tears and spit, you looked down and away from the mess you had become; but your shame wouldn’t stop you quite yet. You would have bitten her fingers, if it wasn’t for the wave of nausea that hit you. 

“So troublesome...” Nyoka whispered, grinning at the newfound expression on your face. Her venomous work was beginning to take effect. 

You pinched your lips shut, feeling as if you were about to vomit. The room looked like it was spinning, Nyoka’s tail feeling ten times tighter and her teasing hands far more noticeable. 

“What…” You were going to yell, growl at her, but the only thing that could come out of your mouth was a slew of unconnected words. Your head pounded as you leaned back onto her shoulder for support, unable to hold your body up alone. 

“There there… You know there are consequences for defying your mate.” She said softly. Nyoka’s fight against you also seemed to die down as her tail loosened, hand rubbing softer circles against your clothed sex. You could feel it far more easier than before, the pleasure and pain crowding your mind as you felt yourself grow hazy. Your breathing became irregular, sweat dripping from your chest as the venom entered your system. You had felt this sensation so many times before, and yet it never got easier. 

You wondered if Nyoka only chose to poison you when you were defiant to make it easier, or if it just so happened to be a coincidence. 

“Don’t feel good…I’m gonna, m’gonna…” You babbled, hiccupping as the pain from the gash on your stomach increased. 

“I know my prey. But you know what happens to naughty mates who don’t listen.” 

Nyoka licked the sweat from your neck, flicking her tongue over the bruise that was beginning to form. You let out a small noise, trying to turn away but failing. The poison had rendered your body heavy, invisible bricks holding down your weight as Nyoka ate up every bit. 

Her scarlet tail had wrapped around you lovingly, spreading your thighs as she lifted your soiled tunic again. You didn’t fight this time, too overcome with nausea and disorientation to stop her. 

“You’re so lucky I’m so good to you. Touching you even though you’ve been such a rebellious little mouse…” You watched as she dug under your undergarments to reach between your thighs, lust in her delighted eyes as she searched for your hardening nipples once more. 

“No--!” You whined loudly, chest heaving as the sensation of her fondling overcoming you. 

“Yes,” She whispered, giggling at how your eyebrows furrowed in frustration and hopelessness. 

You wished at every moment with her that you hadn’t been the one to be sacrificed in your village, that the creatures known as Lamias were just a bedtime story your elders made up, that you were still at home in the warmth of your bed. You wished that even if you had to endure this fate, you could have at least gotten a creature who did what it was supposed to. You weren’t supposed to be a “mate,” you were supposed to be an unfortunate meal for an insatiable beast. 

Well, to be fair, that's still exactly what you were. 

You were only able to sit there, to watch as Nyoka planted love bites to your neck, relishing every time your hip flexed from her fingers. You were grateful that at least she was mindful of her claws, gently touching you to avoid drawing blood. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t tease you, softly raking her nails against your flesh to make you shiver. Trying to toss and turn away didn’t seem to help, you found. It only caused her to want to toy with you more, make you surrender to her. Your struggle motivated her.

But she was ready to push you to your limits. Pinching your oh so sensitive chest, Nyoka’s pace sped up, biting your earlobe as she watched you twitch and squirm at the newfound pleasure. Sobs began to leave your chapped lips, mixed with angry sounds of bliss. You were upset, irate, and so very worked up. Nyoka laughed at your sweet, conflicted expression. 

“Mine… my adorable little prey.”

[gracesimp]

Falling

tenth doctor x fem!reader

SUMMARY: reader needs a helping hand. The Doctor offers her one.

fluff tbh

i wrote this with ten in mind, but honestly it could be read as any except 13.

WARNING. deals with serious mental health topics, such as depression.

Sometimes I feel like I'm falling. Time around me slows and my arms flail around helplessly. My mouth is open wide as I scream so hard my throat burns, but no sound can be heard. I've been falling for so long that I begin to lose hope. I wonder, what will happen when I reach the bottom? Will I land on my back and become paralysed, unable to move, unable to feel? Will I just become a shell of the person I used to be? Or maybe I'll land on my feet. But still stuck. Trapped at the bottom of an endless abyss with only the darkness to keep me company.

Which would be worse?

I'm not sure.

I felt myself nearing to the end. I used to feel scared, but I think I made peace with my impending doom. But then, a few months ago, I met a man. Honestly, I still believe he's an angel in man form. He constantly tries to assure me he is far from it, though I'll never believe him. After all, how can my saviour, my hero, be anything other than a good man?

His name, or title, really, is ironic. A title he shares with us because his real name is too powerful to be spoken. And this man is The Doctor.

When I met him, and he whisked me away in his little blue box, I started seeing a light. I no longer felt like I was falling. Don't get me wrong, I was still a long while away from reaching the top, though now I was suspended in the air, bright light peering through, guiding me upwards. My legs would kick and my arms would punch, this time with motive. I was swimming back up to the surface.

And I could feel him waiting. Often now I could imagine his smile as he greeted me, the hand he'd offer as he'd lower me onto the ground. Life would have colour again. All in aid of him.

"Y/n," He'd whisper and I'd just look at him as though he'd hung the moon and stars, just for me. "Welcome home."

I stir in bed when I heard my name being called. I blink, then squint as my eyes adjust to the influx of light. I want to press my head back into the pillow, condemning all of the brightness that bids me goodmorning, but before I can, I feel a hand on my duvet covered hip. The Doctor.

I look up, and he smiles so kindly. "Morning," he says, and I smile in response. He places a cup of tea on the table beside me, then asks softly if I'm going to get up, if I'm going to shower. I nod, saving my breath as my energy gradually heightens.

He exhales softly. He doesn't prod for more answers, he never forces me to move. He allows me to take things at my own pace. And I'm eternally grateful.

His hand makes contact with my face, and he begins to brush away strands of hair that shield my eyes. I just blink up at him, trying my best to speak through body, rather than words. He stares back, and I may be deluded to assume we are both having a conversation in touch, rather than I speaking alone.

After a few seconds pass, he tells me to budge up, so I do. I make room for him in my bed, and he slips in next to me, the mattress creaking as he drops his weight, alongside the duvet wrinkling when he wraps it comfortably around the two of us.

"My Doctor." I mutter as I snuggle into him.

He looks my way, going back to stroking my hair before he responds. "You shouldn't call me that, you know?"

I just blink back absently, waiting for further explanation.

"I chose this name as a promise. Never had to put it into practice before. I don't think I make a very good doctor. Maybe you shouldn't be relying on me to act as yours."

At this, I frown. "How could I think of you as anything but?" I ask, sincerely. "You're too hard on yourself. Every day you fulfill the promise you made. You can't save everyone, Doctor," I tell him, knowing his mind often hovers on the fates of former companions. "But you saved me."

His eyes meet mine once again, and a smile takes over his face. "Yeah?"

Without so much as a second thought, I confirm. "Yes."

He just smiles wider, then leans down and kisses my forehead, forcing me to smile back in return. His hand trails down under the cover until it finds mine, and he laces our fingers together.

"I think you've saved me just as much as I saved you." He speaks.

I rub my thumb on the back of his hand and whisper:

"My doctor."