#like they get filthy disgusting with it but not too filthy disgusting either which is good for me lol

[naivety]

say what you want about teen wolf but it's body horror game goes crazy stupid, even actual like high budget media still doesn't come close when it comes to range. every villain, every season, whether it's lycanthropy, fugue states, catatonia, sleepwalking, your body as a sacrifice, possession, mind control, genetic chimeras, your body being erased entirely, someone rooting through your mind with their actual fingers, consensual and non-consensual body modification, death and undeath, your body refusing to heal or your body never not healing, never leaving any evidence of what's happened to you, not being able to breathe like it's supposed to, not being able to move at all, your body as an animal, your body as a weapon in someone else's hands. body horror is her specialty and she is never afraid to get icky gooey absolutely filthy disgusting with it and she NEVER has an off day.

[iwriteyanderes2023]

Yandere Socialite (Fem! Yandere x Fem! Reader)

Divider credits: @/anitalenia

Trigger warning: Violence, drama between friends, profanity usage, yandere themes, name-calling, sexual harassment, power abuse. Choking, pet play, humiliation, drugging, sexual scenes, bondage play, female on female

(8941 words)

You regretted agreeing to this.

Your friends were raving about this massive party, where all the hottest celebrities and the wealthy go to flaunt or make a fool out of themselves. Obviously, it was an exclusive event, no mere commoners could simply walk in. To enter, it's either paying an extravagant fee or be (in)famous enough. Which, you were neither.

They claimed to know how to sneak in, undetected by the burly bouncers that you would rather not be the receiving end of their anger. It made sense to have some tight security, it is taking place in someone's mansion; someone's home, after all.

You, being new in this city and desperate to make connections to you could advance your career, said yes. You stupidly said yes, put on your best clubbing outfit and makeup, and went through with your friend's plan to slip in through one of the back doors while the other distracted whoever was around to hinder the plans.

Which leads you to be lost in a seemingly unending maze of hallways, you don't know where the other girls went and you don't know where you are. There wasn't a single soul wandering around the carpeted floor and chandeliered ceilings. Elegant paintings of men and women in dignified poses seem to peer at you in disgust; a filthy commoner dressed like a tramp. You didn't belong here, and it's only a matter of time before you were thrown into jail thanks to the recorded footage from the surveillance cameras you're sure were pointed at you.

You covered your arms with your hands as you moved onward, cussing under your breath about how silly it was to wear a ridiculously tall heel. It's already giving you blisters, so you decide to take them off and walk barefoot; silently and dryly sobbing about how humiliating this feels.

You continued trundling on, periodically looking back and trying to see where the life of the party is at so you could at least witness how it's like. Perhaps make a few connections, but you think that's unlikely. Most of them are probably drunk out of their mind or high off coke to care.

Actually, what are you even doing here? You're supposed to be networking at a classy, evening soiree, not a rich boy's messy party!

Before you could sigh again, you were interrupted by the sounds of yelling in a room nearby.

"Get off me, fucker!" You heard an enraged feminine voice shout out before the sounds of crashing reached your ears. Groaning could be heard as you assume the other party was shuffling to get up.

"You fucking bitch!" Retorted a masculine voice, followed by more stumbling. "What the hell is wrong with you!?"

"We're over. Get the fuck out of my sight!" She yelled, but it doesn't sound like she was too hurt over it. It's more anger if anything.

"What...? Just like that?! After everything that I've done-"

"All you did was embarrass me over and over again! Like, does it kill you to take a shower? Does it kill you not to be an entitled, gross loser all the time?"

You inched closer to the door and discreetly poked your head in. You saw the back of a woman with the most gorgeous blond hair draping down to her tailbone. She's wearing a silver sequin dress that barely covers the fold of her bum.

The male, slightly drunk and injured from the shove with debris around him, was glaring at the blonde.

"Shut up, slut! If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't get to live like this!" He threateningly pointed at her, but she didn't budge.

"Oh? You mean that monthly allowance of fifty bucks from you? Please, I pick up my dogs' crap with it. That's how worthless you are to me, I'm only tolerating you because I'm doing your mommy a favour." She fought back, her words enraged the man even further.

"You can forget the deal our families had! I'll make sure the Maciovelli name goes to shit, you will be living on the streets before you know it!" He yelled right in front of her face, getting up close and personal; and having his stray spit hit her. She merely wiped them away.

"Ugh, you're insufferable. Whatever, I'd like to see you try, bitch." She hissed before shoving him away again.

But this proved to be a dangerous move, as it provoked the man to lunge and swing his arm at her. Luckily though, it seems she has predicted it and dodged his attack on time.

You had to do something! And so, you looked around as the pair went on to physically fight. Though, it's more like she's doing all the defense while he does the offense. Sometimes blocking his hits with her red handbag.

There is a vase nearby, decorated with intricate, hand-painted flowers. Without thinking, you picked it up and chucked it at the man. The antiquity of that piece of art be damned, that woman is in danger and you have to do something to help her!

She visibly jolted when it flew past some strands of gold and crashed onto her assailant's head, spraying shards everywhere and making small cuts on her legs. He was thrown backward and rendered unconscious almost immediately.

The woman whipped her head back to see the source of it, staring at you with wide, baby-blue eyes. You stared back at her breathtakingly stunning face; she had thin, sharp brown eyebrows that accentuated her fox-like eyes. Long, black eyelashes framed her iris as smokey makeup made her eyes look much bigger and lively. Her lips were glossy and in a shade of pastel pink, with a dusting of sparkly glitter.

You stammered, not knowing what to do or say. You're not even supposed to be here. So you remained silent as you and her continued this staring contest, the woman's eyes were scrutinizing you from head to toe.

She began walking towards you, her heels menacingly clicking against the marbled floor of that room. You felt a surge of panic course through you, so you took a few steps back.

Only to be grabbed by the shoulder by someone else behind you. Chills ran down your spine when you heard the familiar sound of a walkie-talkie beeping. "I found one of the trespassers."

You started panicking even more, speaking erratically to try and defend your case. But the security officer wouldn't hear it, instead restraining you and pulling you away from the scene. You thrashed and screamed, not wanting to get caught and end your life as soon as it started. "I need backup!" Shouted the guard into his device as he tried to wrangle you into his grip.

You shouldn't have agreed to them, look what it has gotten you into. Your life is so over, you're going to be shoved into a jail cell and forced to move back to where you came from. If only you could-

"Hey, you fatass!" You saw her red, crescent handbag whack the officer in the arm, he flinched in surprise. "Hands off my best friend! And who the fuck do you think you are, calling her a trespasser!?"

A look of surprise crosses his face. "Miss Maciovelli? She's with you?" The officer took a look at you, there wasn't an aura of money emanating from you, not like how the woman was.

You looked back at the woman, now putting her hands on her hips. An irate expression adorns her face, "Um, yeah? I just said it, are you fucking slow? Let her go right now!" She demanded, raising the volume of her voice as her patience was running thin.

He sighed and released his hold on you. The man brought his walkie-talkie up to his mouth and said that it was a false alarm and that there wasn't a need for more of them to come over. They should focus on finding the rest of the intruders, which you can guess that they were referring to your friends.

"I'm sorry, Miss Maciovelli-"

"Yeah, you better be." She spat as she hooked her arm around yours. "Insulting my girl like that- why don't you all actually do your jobs and kick the real troublemakers out? Like that pig there, taking a nap on the floor. He tried to hit me and my best friend!" The blonde pointed her ivory-white acrylic nail to her bleeding ex, who seemed to be slowly regaining consciousness.

His eyes widened as he seemed to recognize the waking man. "O-oh! That's-!"

Before he could finish his sentence, the woman dragged you away from the scene. Pushing you by the shoulders and pulling you by the hand. You looked behind you to see the security guard entering the room while frantically speaking into his walkie-talkie.

"You're new. What's your name?" You were snapped out of your frazzled trance when she spoke. Her pace was slowing into a leisurely walk when she deemed it safe enough. The blonde's arm was still linked around yours, though.

Her baby blues curiously stared at you, all that malice and rage she held earlier was gone. Replaced with friendliness with a bit of wariness.

You told her your name and stumbled over your words trying to explain your situation as fast as possible. You made sure to thank her for saving you.

"Your friends are gross for abandoning you like that." She scowled. "I hate fake bitches like them, they should like, get shot in the head or something."

Your mouth gape open at her extreme remarks. Is this how socialites usually talk?

You defended your friends, telling her that they didn't abandon you. They probably just lost you as everyone scrambled to hide from security.

"Yeah, you're definitely new here. They knew what they were doing. You came with five others, at least one should be hiding from security with you." She brought you into a grandiose bathroom. The blonde finally lets you go and approaches the vanity. "Those sluts used you."

Miss Maciovelli pulled a tube of lip gloss from her mini handbag and began doing touchups. You simply watched her, not knowing what to say. Well, you should have seen it coming. Big city dwellers are known to be cutthroat, and you just met them.

"Sorry babe, but that's the reality here." She smacked her lip and wiped away any imperfections with her thumb.

You scratched the back of your head. You asked her if she could show you the exit, it's been a long night and you want to go home.

"You don't wanna stay for a little?" She asked, turning to you. "You're hot, I'm sure you'll have fun. I'll get rid of those snakes for you, if that's what's holding you back."

You shook your head, feeling exhausted after everything you went through today. You asked her if she's going back to the party, wherever that may be in this mansion.

"Duh." She bobbed her head.

There was a pregnant pause between the two of you. Until she decided to fish her phone out.

"Number." She extended her hand and brought her phone, numpad side to you.

You picked it up and entered your phone number. It's saved under your name, but you doubt that she will remember you after today.

"Oh, so that's how you spell it." She mumbled, looking at the contact name.

You watch her keep her device away before fixing her hair in the mirror again. She used a nail to adjust her eyelashes.

"Okay, let's go." She linked her arm around yours again, escorting you out of the bathroom.

You and she walked past numerous rooms and halls, some had excited shouts coming from them, some had salacious moaning and some had loud booming music. When you were nearing the core of the alcohol-fueled rave, the noise from massive speakers was nearly unbearable. You even had to cover your ears in order not to blow your drums out. But the woman didn't even flinch, she continued strutting along with you in tow.

You saw men and women feverishly dancing along to the beat, the surroundings were dark and illuminated by colorful strobe lights. Good thing you weren't epileptic.

"Heyy..."

You turned your head to see one of your friends. She's wasted beyond belief. "You... you made it! C'mere, I want you to meet-"

"Fuck off, whore!" Barked Miss Maciovelli, she yanked you along with her. Ignoring the expletives coming out from your friend's slurring mouth.

You asked if that was really necessary.

"Yep. They won't get the hint if you're this nice." She answered. "They'll keep trying until you're dragged down to their level. Don't ever disrespect yourself like that." She sternly warned you.

All you could do was nod meekly.

Eventually, you reached the exit. It's as grand and fancy as it was on the inside. You see a massive water fountain in the middle of a looped road. Yet, no cars could be seen but there were hoards of security milling around.

"Wait here." She left you on the marble steps as she approached a uniformed staff member. You watched them exchange some words before she marched back to you.

You thought that this was the end of your meeting with her. So you told her thanks and bid her goodbye while referring to her as Miss Maciovelli. She scrunched her nose up in disgust.

"Ew. That's so fake. Don't call me that." She crosses her arms over her chest, and you can see pale tan lines on her skin.

You asked what you should call her instead.

"Mercedes." She replied immediately. "You know, the car."

You told her that it's a beautiful name. She smiled and flipped her hair.

You told her that you better get going, it's late. Mercedes narrowed her eyes at you and grabbed your wrist.

"And how are you going to do that? It's an hour's drive from here to the city."

You said you were going to take the bus, that's how you got here in the first place. Worst come to worst, you would call a cab.

She shook her head defiantly.

"I'm driving you home, no way am I trusting those weirdos to bring you anywhere."

You told her that you would be fine and that you didn't want to be a hassle. To that, she rolled her eyes.

"Ugh, shut up." Mercedes punched your arm playfully.

A hot pink convertible then rolled up in front of the two of you. Its headlights are heart-shaped, you thought it was cute. "Miss Maciovelli?" Said the parking Valet.

"C'mon, don't be difficult." She urged you to get in through the passenger's side.

"This is your place?" She asked with a tone of incredulity. "Looks... plain."

You wouldn't call it plain. It's small but cozy. It's also all you can afford at the moment with your job, that's why you were planning to network around to get better opportunities.

"Hm." She hummed, releasing her grip on her pink, fluffy steering wheel to fix her hair.

You got out of her car and said goodbye. She didn't say a word but watched you get to the front door.

You look behind you to see her staring, so you wave bye. But she neither budged nor returned the gesture. Simply staring at you like a hawk. Feeling a bit creeped out, you went into the lobby.

Only then did she drive away. What a strange woman.

You sighed and trudged to the lift, pressing the button and resting your forehead on the cold, metallic panel. Well. There goes your only contacts in the city, they're all not good for you.

You didn't even get to know Mercedes's number, so until she texts you first, you're completely alone.

The lift opened to reveal no one. As usual. You don't think you've seen your neighbors yet, thinking they're either avoiding you, extremely busy, or extremely reclusive. Or living in an entirely different timezone.

When you reached your room, you decided to boot up your computer. While waiting for it to be functional, you did something else; preparing the things you need for a relaxing bath and boiling some water for tonight's five-star dinner: instant noodles.

You spent the night researching Mercedes, only searching her first name predictably bringing up results of the luxury car brand with the same name. But as soon as you searched for Mercedes Maciovelli, you began learning a lot about her.

She is the heiress of a very successful, multi-billion conglomerate company. Her family owns more businesses than you can count in two hands, they're also huge and famous companies. Banks, grocery stores, and even planes. It's scary how her family possesses this much power. That was such a silly thing for her ex to say, that if it wasn't for him, she would have been in poverty. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment.

However, she is no stranger to paparazzi as she frequently mingles with high-profile celebrities, gets into physical altercations, and goes wild in nightclubs. She is nothing like what was expected of her as someone who grew up in "old money". She's associated with words like "bitchy", "fiesty", "trashy" and "Messy". Whereas her peers barely have any information available about them online, they stay out of trouble and act too elegant for the paparazzi and tabloids to take any interest.

The most interesting bit about Mercedes was her dating life. Your eyes bulged out of your skull, seeing the seemingly unending list of boyfriends she had over the years. It's almost like she has a new one every month, but there are never repeats. Articles, gossip pieces, and smear forums about Mercedes are just so prevalent, that you think you're getting a cramp on your finger by just scrolling your mouse.

In the end, you're sick of seeing the public bash the blonde. It gets old and you're becoming tired. Perhaps aging has already caught up to you, but you cannot stay up past 12.

You decided to shut your computer off and head to bed.

It's been a few days since that party. Your "friends" kept texting you, trying to get you to join one more of their trespassing escapades. You gave them excuses upon excuses because you're not interested in such a lifestyle.

"Aw, don't be such a lame-o," Drawled one of the girls as she shook your shoulder. "Come on, it'll be fun! You had fun!"

The other girls continued egging you on in this expensive cafe. You were already uncomfortable meeting them here, as you can barely afford the cheapest of their pastries. At least the ambiance looks amazing in photos. If only you owned a digital camera...

You let out a nervous chuckle as you tried to decline as much as you could without offending them.

"There's another one tonight! You should totally come with us, I got like, the routes and everything already!"

"Yeah, think of the cute guys that's going to be there!"

"OMG, I heard Retro Rhymes are going to be there!"

"Really!? The rapper!?"

You sighed as they chatted amongst themselves. You silently picked at your muffin with your fork, that was the cheapest thing on the menu and the price was enough to give you eight of these back home.

Eventually, they must have forgotten your existence. Because they continued talking until they left the building. Not saying a bye or sparing a glance in your direction. Leaving you to sit at your table alone and brooding.

Well. You shouldn't expect much when it comes to friendships here. Many people come to the city solely to make money and have fun, after all. Not so much finding true, lifelong connections.

You took a sip of your black coffee. Again, the cheapest thing you could get from there. You couldn't even afford sugar or milk with it.

Suddenly, a manicured hand slammed a cup onto your table, shocking you and making you accidentally spill some of your drink onto your blouse.

"You should try this, it's so good. Way better than your boring-ass black coffee, I bet." You recovered from your initial shock to crane your head up to see Mercedes staring down at you from above, her soft, golden hair falling to your face.

You greeted her, asking what she was doing here.

"I could ask the same of you, seeing that you're pretty broke. But I saw how you still hung out with those sluts even after I told you not to." She cocked an eyebrow as an unimpressed look crossed her face.

Today, she wears a simple, lacey crop top and a pair of low waisted jeans. You got to know that she had her belly button pierced.

You sighed once more, burying your face in your hands. You told her you don't have a choice, it's a cold world out here and you need someone to fulfill that human need for socialization. Now that you have calmed down, you decided to take a better look at the drink she gave you.

It's a tall, plastic cup with a dome cover. It's an ice-blended, creamy mocha with chocolate syrup drizzled on the sides of the cup. It has a healthy dollop of whipped cream on top and a thick straw is sticking out of its opening.

"Um, hello? You have me." She moved away from you and took a seat next to you, she ordered the same thing. Mercedes shook it around before taking a sip. "You don't need them anymore, I'll be showing you the ropes."

You thought about it for a while. There is definitely a non zero chance that she will play you like a fiddle, but it's much better to have someone high up there in the hierarchy. Even though she isn't necessarily a mature businesswoman yet, you would still have a better chance to brush shoulders with relevant people. Not... Partygoers.

So then, you agreed. Picking up your cup and taking your first sip.

It was tooth-rotting. It was good, but you knew if it wasn't for sugar, this cup would not even be filled to half. The sheer sweetness of the treat made you grimace and pucker.

"What? Don't like it?" She asked, looking bored.

You said it was nice, but a bit too sweet.

"That's the point. I like it sweet." She took another sip from her drink. "Keeps me full for hours."

You... Don't think that's how it works. Isn't it usually the opposite effect? Whatever.

For the next few hours, you and her chat about almost everything and anything. Ranging from each other's histories, to each other's interests, to oddly philosophical questions and personal views on things. There were quite a few differences between you and Mercedes- obviously so, as she was raised by the uber rich and you were raised by... Your guardians, but you liked how she kept her mind open and was non-judgemental about you.

It was refreshing, really. Someone you could somewhat be real with, unlike your previous set of friends where you had to put on the most guarded mask in order not to feel like a pathetic lowlife around them.

You were curious about her dating habits, but you think it's rude to ask about it this early on in the friendship. Plus, it never came up, so you decided to save that question for another day. You bet if she's willing to open up, it will take more than just a few hours.

It's getting late, you should leave.

So you stood up, secretly in disbelief at how you finished the entire thing of diabetes. You told Mercedes that you have work tomorrow and you're going to need to leave soon.

She frowned. "Boo. Boring."

You said that you have to be "boring", you don't have her type of money.

"And it's literally just six in the evening. It's not like it's six in the morning or something." She huffed.

You said you have been in this cafe for seven hours.

"They don't close til 10."

Still, you have to get back home. You're tired.

She stuck her tongue out at you.

"Fine. But I'm driving you home."

You said there isn't a need for her to do that, you could take the bus.

"Let's go, you need your beauty sleep." She ignored you and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you along with her so quickly that you struggled to keep up.

Weeks would go by and you would meet Mercedes every Sunday in a different cafe of her choosing. And these meetings would increase in frequency each week, to a point where you were eating all three meals with her daily. She would always foot the bill and refused to let you pay for anything, talking about how you're so poor, that you're probably fighting rats for the scraps at the bottom of the dumpster. It's an absolute win for you; no cooking involved and you haven't eaten instant noodles for months now.

The five girls you originally started off with seem to lose interest in you, they never texted or called you again. And when you did bump into any of them, they would pretend not to know you.

It's extremely obvious that they're avoiding you for some reason, maybe it's because they've seen you buddying up with Mercedes: one of their sworn enemies and one of the most feared figures in this city.

It's... Surprisingly sad. Knowing that the friendship was doomed from the beginning didn't change the feeling of isolation and hurt in you. But at least you gained something that resembled a friend.

Mercedes would gradually increase the frequency of her texts and calls, hitting you up whenever she's bored out of her mind.

"Stop working letz go shopping"

"U r SO going blind in ur 30s"

"nerd :-P"

"im boreddddddddddddd"

"go clubbing with moiiii"

"letzzz goooo"

"stop ignoring me :-("

These were just some of the few text messages you would frequently receive, blowing up your phone even when you're in a meeting. You would usually need to turn it off entirely to keep yourself quiet.

But yes, you would go shopping with her. Mercedes seem to have a kick out of spoiling you with clothes, jewelry and other things you can only dream to buy.

You didn't like trying on clothes, because Mercedes would barge into your changing room however and whenever she liked.

"What's the big deal? We're both girls." That was what Mercedes would say when she slips into the cubicle, while you're mid-change without any warning. Of course, you would react negatively to that, especially since you don't know her that well.

In the end, though, you would just give up and let her come in. It's not like you could stop her and she isn't doing anything too weird... Aside from her vaguely longing stares at your partially or completely unclothed body. She would almost be in a trance, staring unblinkingly for long periods of time until you snap your fingers in front of her face. She just claims that you're just too hot for anyone to handle.

Mercedes would contact you via your phone, asking if you would want to go clubbing with her, or if you would want to be her plus one to an event. And each time, you would say no. And each time, she would whine about how lame you are but never pushed too far.

A temporary boyfriend would take your place, only for her to break up with them the next day and appear in another tabloid for some scandalous fighting or dating. When you asked her about it, she would get moody and irritable. She would rant about her feelings and problems with the world at large, finding the dating pool now repulsive and general standards insanely low.

"Ugh! Can you believe that he said that to me?"

You would have to nod, it would end her ranting faster. It's always the same phrase over and over again, with slight variation.

"I wish men were just like you, I would find it so fucking easy to commit to a guy. But they're not, so I rather shit my hands and clap. Oh my god, he was so pathetic and gross."

You could recite her words at this point, you got it the first time that she wishes she could date a male version of you. Mercedes didn't have to repeat that every single time you and her met up.

For her sake and yours, you pray hard that she finds what she's looking for. You don't know how much more of her repetitive complaints you can take.

All your other attempts to network and make connections fail. As soon as any of them knew you were Mercedes's "bestie", they would either run for the hills or become actively hostile toward you. She has made a lot of enemies and you don't think she has any girlfriends... Only orbiters or those who tried to get her approval but secretly hated her guts. Or die-hard fans who don't see her as a human, but as an object, whether for better or for worse.

She kept them around, just because she could benefit from them. Mercedes would bring them along to some of your many shopping sprees with her just so they could carry heaps of heavy bags for the two of you. While you and her get to enjoy the day, completely unburdened.

It unsettled you how she treated them like lowly servants, or even more degradingly so, like dogs. And not like one of her spoiled Pomeranians, but mutts that are bred to work and live off scraps of attention. You could be having a spa day at the city's finest specialist, sipping on complimentary champagne, and having your hair done with products that you cannot even pronounce; Mercedes would make her lackeys wait outside. Yet, they appear happy about this treatment from her. Eagerly following Mercedes and by extension, you, wherever you go.

It didn't matter who you tried to befriend, Mercedes's opinion of them would remain constant: They're all two-faced liars who are out there to kick you when you're down. It never changed despite never even meeting them or you made them up. She's fiercely protective of you, and always assumed the worst of everyone, even her own relatives when they tried being cordial with you.

Of course, the friendship has blossomed to the point where you would have a slumber party at her multi-million mansion every Friday. You wouldn't even need to bring anything, she would have everything ready for you; clothes, toiletries, hairdryers- anything you need to survive from day to day, you would have a more luxurious version of it. She definitely has an affinity for bling, as the tops that Mercedes provides always have rhinestones decorating them.

You were living in opulence, a lifestyle that can only be seen on TV, in magazines, or in history books. It's jarring and almost dreamlike how you got to experience such things just by chance. You didn't have to work hard for it, you just need to endure a spoiled blonde's clinginess to receive all these. What a steal. You had maids and butlers that would await your every order, personal chefs to whip up something delicious in a second, and hunky pool boys to ogle at when you tan with her outside.

You just wished that Mercedes wasn't so touchy, though...

"Like, sunburn isn't cute. C'mon, don't be such a hardass, turnover." You would groan and do as you were told, laying flat on your stomach and adjusting your sunglasses. Mercedes would then squeeze a handful of white sunscreen on her palm, and begin rubbing onto your exposed back and legs.

She would always take her time running her hands over your skin, sensually massaging from the base of your neck and down to your bum. Her flesh would glide against yours, reaching all that she could touch and occasionally squeezing your cheeks down south. Whenever you complained, she would say:

"What? Not my fault you have a bubble butt. No one can resist giving a squeeze." And continues fondling you under the guise of preserving your youthful skin from the harsh sun rays. You would sigh, slumping your head down as Mercedes continued doing whatever she wanted. It's her house, her money, and her influence after all. You're just riding on it for free. And it's not like anything is going to be too weird, you and her are both girls!

"Okay, I'm done. My turn." She would hand you the bottle of sunscreen and flip herself over. It's undeniable that she has a body that even Aphrodite would be envious of, thanks to a combination of genetics, her lifestyle, and other procedures. Mercedes does put in work in her personal gym, toning her body and alluring men everywhere. Her bikini would leave very little to the imagination, but it made sense why she needed much more sunscreen.

"Make sure to get it on here too." She would purr, playfully wiggling her plump rear. This would usually prompt an eye roll from you and a giggle from her.

She's soft to the touch. And you knew that not because you would have to smear sunscreen on her, but because she would often cuddle with you. It didn't matter what you were doing, you could be stretching in her living room, and she would wrap her arms around your waist. You could be curled up on her fluffy sofa, watching a sitcom, and she would crawl up all over your space. You could be sleeping, and you would wake up to her being the big spoon. And she would have the audacity to whine about how you ruined her sleep by moving around.

But you must admit, she is comfortable to cuddle with. Especially when you rest your head on her voluptuous breasts, allowing yourself to sink into them and inhale her sweet, floral perfume. It would be heaven squared when she would rake her long, acrylic nails through your hair. Mercedes would let you twirl with her golden strands, playing with them between your fingers.

You think, maybe it's because she's just lonely and a big fan of physical touch. It must be exhausting to constantly think every single person in the world is out there to get you. But does she have to be so... gross?

"I just want it." Mercedes would whine, demanding that she wants your drink. You would ask her why, you also drank out of this straw anyway.

"I didn't like my order."

You pointed out that you ordered the same exact thing as her.

"They didn't make it right!"

You asked her what made her think they made yours right.

"They just do!"

You said it's just going to be the same thing. Why not throw hers away and order another one, seeing that she has near infinite amount of money?

She would groan in frustration and stomp her heels on the ground. "It tastes better after you drank from it, okay!? I don't know what it is about your... fucking saliva that makes something so mediocre, tastes so good. Now, gimme!" Mercedes would snatch it out of your hands and swapped it with her one.

You drank more than half of yours while Mercedes barely touched her cup. Well, more for you, you guess. At least everyone is happy.

This habit of hers would extend to utensils, you knew she would purposely drop her dessert spoon just to eat from yours. Mercedes would steal your clothes, claiming that your outfits are always cuter than hers, and she's jealous.

But she chose and bought you these clothes...?

You were so used to her antics, that one day, Mercedes gave you a new brand of gum to try. However, when it touches your tongue, you immediately grimaced as it was the most atrocious flavour ever.

"Whaatt? Are you fucking serious? That's like, my favourite flavour!" She would look at you in disbelief. And you would look at her in disbelief, because this was the first time seeing her buying this brand.

You told her that you wanted to spit it out, it's awful.

"Don't waste it!" She hit you on the arm. "Spit it in my mouth." Mercedes would part her lips wide and bring her face close to yours.

Without thinking, you expelled the partially chewed up candy into her orifice... which she gladly accepted and began chewing on it. Sucking whatever flavour that was left on, including your fluids.

"What are you talking about?" You could hear her obnoxious chews between words. "It tastes fine, you're so dramatic."

Upon realizing what you just did, you would shudder in disgust. Quickly walking away as if you're trying to run from the memory.

Soon after, Mercedes would permeate through every aspect of your life. It seems like she had a chat with her parents about offering you a job at one of their firms. A high standing one at that, too.

You obviously accepted it and resigned from your previous post. Now, THIS is what you're talking about. A prestigious job with unbelievable benefits and tasks that doesn't seem too hard for you to do. It's everything you wanted you achieve, ever since you arrived at the city.

Well, minus the fact that your bestie who got you this position would intrude your office every chance she gets and talk your ear off.

"Ughhh... this is so boring... Let's ditch this place and go somewhere fun." She would rest her head on your shoulder while shaking you by the arm.

You said you can't. You have work to do.

"Says who?"

You said your boss.

"Who's your boss?"

For the fifth time, you told her the name of your supervisor. But instead of complaining, she would storm out of your office. At first, you thought she would leave you alone, maybe she's tired of bugging you and got the hint that you're a responsible adult with adult jobs.

But, ten minutes later, she would be barrelling in with your boss in tow. She had him in a very unsavoury grip, her hands tightly clutching his sleeve.

"Tell her!" She demanded.

"Y-you're free to go. Someone else can cover for you."

Your eyes would widen, asking if this will affect your pay.

"Not at all. Don't worry, I will have this... agreement in writing. Please e-enjoy the rest of your day." He would then quickly excuse himself from the room, avoiding Mercedes's fiery glare.

You looked at her. How could she just do that?

"My Dad owns this company, duh. Anyways, less talk, more walk." She hooked her arm around yours and dragged you out of the office.

It's as if her father was paying you just to babysit his bratty, adult daughter. You barely get to do anything for the company! You don't even know what you were hired to do in the first place anymore.

It gets extremely suffocating being her best friend, you don't know anyone around except her. The staff in her mansion is always rotating, so you wouldn't see the same face twice. You barely remembered your supervisor's names, let alone any colleagues'. All your free time is robbed by Mercedes, she saturates every single second of your life. You don't remember not seeing Mercedes's pretty face on the daily, yet it's astonishing how she would get the paparazzi on her for constantly dating a new roster of boys each season and getting into catfights with other women. Where does she find the time to do that?

It's rubbing on you, now you begin to crave a boyfriend. A 'boy toy', as Mercedes would call it.

It shouldn't be too hard, you know that you're good-looking; you have the clothes, the hair, the makeup and you can always steal from your filthy rich best friend. Your bank account is a little chubbier now thanks to Mercedes. If you just put yourself out there, you're sure boys will flock to you.

But you shouldn't tell this to Mercedes, you get the vibe that she would be jealous that you're stealing the spotlight. You aren't trying to do at all, you're just curious to know what it's like to live like Mercedes for once.

So you had to do it secretly. You would always decline her requests to join her clubbing, preferring to favor sleep over drug-fuelled parties. But recently, you would cover up your eyebags with concealer just so you could introduce yourself to the market. It goes without saying, that you're not tagging along with Mercedes, you went on your own and told not a single soul.

And it was a success! You have never received so many free drinks from men before, you even witnessed some of them fighting over you, all physical and mock-macho. It was hilarious and flattering, but the other girls would avoid you like the plague and shoot you nasty looks your way. It's much worse than you expected it to feel, you feel... rejected, alienated, and ugly. Was this how Mercedes felt? Is that why she thinks all other women are out for her blood? Well, you understand it now. And some of the boys would be really creepy towards you, it doesn't feel so good on the soul knowing the people who defended you from those weirdos are also creeps themselves. They just wanted a piece of you as if you were just a slab of meat in a cage of hungry wolves.

Though, it would be a big, fat lie to say you didn't feel free. You felt the freedom that died on the day Mercedes took you under her wing. It tasted so sweet, you wanted more and more. You were so addicted, that you took illicit substances just to keep you awake for longer, to party until the sun rises.

You were leading a double life: As Mercedes's goody-two-shoes bestie in the day, a bad girl gone wild at night. Make out with whoever you want to, drinking as much as you want and shaking yourself to the beat of the music until you drop.

You knew Mercedes was suspecting something was up, but at this point, you give no shits. This is your life, and you get to live it.

It didn't last long, though.

There was one night in particular; you remembered that they had a massive disco ball in the middle of the ceiling, reflecting every ray coming out of the projector. It was deafening, the smell of booze and sweat nauseated you but you didn't notice. The DJ was bopping his head to the rhythm and scratching records using his fingertips. The patrons were doing their own thing, some were dancing like no tomorrow, some were locking lips and some were snorting lines. It was one of those types of parties, the one where you first met Mercedes. Except this time, you successfully snuck in without your ex-friends and finally found the core of the rave.

Your hair was frazzled and you had a few wardrobe malfunctions, but why should you be bothered by that? It's not like everyone around you were dignified at all, you blend in and that's all that matters to you.

The details were fuzzy, but you remembered wondering what it was like to make out with a woman instead. Men had pretty rough lips and they smelled like crap. Why not experiment? You're here anyways, and no one is going to recognize you- whatever happens in this mansion, stays in this mansion. Plus, you already have a willing participant next to you, who has been hitting on you all night.

Later in the dark, you became bold from a mix of alcohol and whatever glowing pill you took from a giddy stranger. You pulled her aside to somewhere secluded, the two of you were clearly hot and bothered, deeply eager to explore each other's bodies. Nothing else matters in this moment, other than to satisfy each other's needs.

She pulled you in by the neck, pressing her full lips against yours. And you were correct, it was soft, fragrant, and delicious. A thousand times better than kissing stinky boys. You closed your eyes and melted into her touch, sinking deeper and deeper into the kiss. She's on top of you, straddling your hips and your hands are rubbing all over her body. The woman, who you didn't even know the name of, trailed kisses from your jaw down to your collarbones. Her slender fingers began to stray from your chin and roam downwards until it was dangerously close to the hem of your panties. You let out a muffled moan as she let her tongue taste every corner of your mouth, neither of you could speak. And neither of you wanted to, words weren't necessary.

However, your ecstasy was cut short when your lover was yanked backward. Confused, your eyes immediately shot open at the first taste of emptiness... only to witness something scaringly horrific.

"Fucking slut! How fucking dare you, how fucking dare you touch my girl!" Shrieked Mercedes as she had an iron grip on your lover's hair with one hand, and another was whaling on her non-stop. She was screaming in terror as your best friend inflicted as much damage as she could on her face. Scratches, punches, cuts, she had done it all. Mercedes pulled clumps of hair out from her victim's scalp and dodged every attempt of her to fight back. She was fast, fueled with the purest distillation of rage you have ever seen, mascara streaked down her face as she shouted until her voice was hoarse. Blood splattered onto her light-hued hair, her outfit was ruined and no doubt, a thousand dollars worth of acrylic nails were ripped from her nailbed as she threw brutal punches.

You panicked, trying to break the fight up but Mercedes was entirely immersed in anger that she didn't care that she lost her natural nails along with her false ones. She's also bleeding, scarlet painted her fingertips, knuckles, and up to her wrist as she went on tormenting your lover with more hits and pummels. At this rate, Mercedes might just kill her!

You attempted to restrain her, but she was too strong, easily overpowering you just so she could beat your lover to death. There was so much hatred simmering in her heart for this one stranger, this one woman you're sure she's never met. Why!? Why her!? Why would Mercedes attack her unprovoked!?

The fight, which was one-sided ended a few minutes later when your lover stopped moving and was covered in gruesome welts. Her eyes were swollen shut and there was blood pooling around her from her nostrils, scalp, and lips.

"You."

Growled Mercedes. She was breathing heavily and all her strands were out of place. Tears were flowing down her bloodshot eyes as she trembled.

You were speechless, you quivered in fear as you looked on. In the end, all you could mewl out was a meek "Why?"

This caused her to wail, scream, and sob. She brought her injured fingers to her head and gripped her hair, letting out all her frustrations and agony before composing herself enough to form a coherent sentence.

"Fuck you, Whore! Fuck you!" She pointed at you, her shrill voice was making your ears hurt, but you're glad she wasn't biting them off instead.

You said you didn't understand what was going on, why was she so upset.

"You were into girls all along! I-I-" She sniffled, ungracefully wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. Soiling her face with her own blood.

"I'm... in love with you..." Her voice quietened as it wavers, Mercedes choked on her own tears as she confessed. "Why didn't you tell me...?" She gasped erratically as she cried. Suddenly, there was a spike in her emotions. "Why didn't you fucking tell me?!"

You took a few more steps backward as she lost control over herself again, she had to kick your already unconscious lover with her heels to calm herself down.

"I wanted you! I..." She let out one last bloodcurdling scream before lunging at you.

You tried evading her, but she was just too experienced in this. Within seconds, her hands are tightly wrapped around your neck; Choking them until blood rushes up your head. You clawed and clawed on her hands, but nothing worked. She was determined to kill you.

She gnashed her teeth as she choked the life out of you, her salty tears rolled down her cheeks, taking some concealer along with it showing that she also had severe dark bags under her eyes.

You started seeing spots, and your thinking became redundant as your brain shuts down from the lack of oxygen. Is this it? Your death? Killed by a nepotism baby with her bare hands?

You took one last look at her face, it was filled with pain and anguish.

You regretted agreeing to come to the city.

She was yearning for you, ever since she bought you that first drink. If you knew the depth of her twisted, obsessive love she harbors for you, running for the hills would have been your immediate reaction.

Mercedes cried herself to sleep almost every night, suffering from a heartache that could never heal itself as long as she knew you were straight. She knew that you would never share her feelings, because she was taught that everyone sees lesbians as freaks of nature.

She tried distracting herself with parties, boys, booze, and coke. But nothing worked, all she ever thought about was you, you, you. She loves you and wanted nothing but to be your lovely wedded wife. Oh, how she longs for a life where it's just you and her. And no one else.

Mercedes couldn't let you go, no way in hell. That's why she would scare off anyone who got too close to you for her liking, that's why she sent out hit after hit to eliminate the competition. Because if she can't have you, no one can.

But now...

"Sit."

You frowned, refusing to budge from your spot.

Mercedes pouted, she cupped your cheeks and stared deep into your eyes.

"Bad puppies don't get treats, you don't want to be a bad puppy, do you, baby?" She cooed in a babyish tone but with heavy condescension.

You couldn't speak, because there was a ballgag between your lips. Yet, you stayed still in defiance.

She narrowed her eyes at your disobedience.

"That's how you're gonna be, huh." Mercedes lets go of your face and sticks her hand into the pocket of her bathrobe. You heard a click, and soon you felt insane vibrations between your legs, it's coming from the vibe taped to your clit!

You let out a muffled yelp as the stimulation made you buckle to your knees, and eventually, you were on the floor, helpless as your hands were tied up behind your back. Juices leaked from your slit and onto the cold, smooth floors.

"Good girl~" She praised in a sing-song voice. Mercedes happily clapped her hands together.

Your eyes rolled back into your skull as you were about to be overcome by pleasure, but... the device suddenly stopped moving. Leaving you incomplete and agitated.

You whined and whimpered, wanting your rightful climax but Mercedes only smiled at your pathetic, squirming state.

"Aww, what's that? Puppy wants to cum?" You feverishly nodded, face burning from the degradation.

"Well, only good puppies get their pussy eaten. Are you a good puppy?" She rested her hands on her knees.

You nodded and let out a muffled yell.

"Roll over."

You tried your best to do that, but the frigid floor is stimulating you further.

"Play dead."

You lay still for a few seconds, your sex is still throbbing in arousal.

"Good girl, good girl!" She praised, giggling at you.

You whimpered, having tears bead from the corners of your eyes. You need that release so badly, it's starting to hurt.

"Mmm... you're so fucking hot..." She whispered as she slowly got down to the floor, slipping her hands between your inner thighs to remove the toy. Her pupils are dilating at the sight of your naked, dripping crotch. "I can't wait to eat you out. You always taste so fucking delicious." Mercedes brushed your puffy lips with her fingers.

"Open your legs."

She didn't have to tell you twice, you granted her full access.

"Good girl..." She purred before dipping her head down to drag her wet, pink muscle over your pussy.

You writhe as she tongue fucks you, lapping up everything and not letting a drop of your sweet, sweet nectar go to waste.

You would spend almost every waking second being 'trained' by Mercedes. Her treats are sex and the overstimulation of your pussy until you faint. You never knew that she was such a nymphomaniac, or maybe she just is that for you. Mercedes just couldn't get enough of your essence, so you're subjected to such treatment.

Well, at least you don't have to work anymore. You get to eat five-star meals and sleep in a mansion, and you get to binge-watch all your favorite shows guilt-free. All you had to be was Mercedes's pet and have her eat you out whenever she wants.

Her beloved Pillow Princess; was embossed in gold, on the hot pink collar around your neck.

[nsfwruru]

top payer!huh yunjin(g!p) x OF!reader

hear me out… yunjin as your biggest supporter on OF, and that she’s your top payer to the point you want to get to know her. only for her to beg you to do a video collab so she can fuck your cute little face. she’s just a fein for head!!!!!😣

cw: filthy smut(masturbation, cum eating, use of videotaping, Yunjin receiving), porn with some plot, not proofread,, use of ‘S/N’ for “screen/name”

You didn’t know anyone in the industry, maybe a few faces here and there, but no one quite noticeable, well maybe due in part that you where a faceless content creator. Not much was known about you, other than the occasional kinks and preferences you’d naturally post under your frequent photoshoots. Having “fans” didn’t help much either, they all just so happened to have tacky screen names that hid their true identity— Well, that was the case until you came across an account that would frequently pay for extra access to your photos, with her name and face plastered onto her casual viewing account.

“huh yunjin” it displayed, the username just being ‘yunnnnjin” something that’s just so intriguing, since you never really saw anyone so proud to display that they looked around the website. Honestly it was really just a pleasant surprise knowing someone was actually human looking through your photos, and occasional videos. Also the fact that she was absolutely stunning in her profile picture kinda made you suspicious, wondering if this could be a bot. I mean, her dark red hair, which complimented her big brown eyes and plump lips, it was all too good to be true!

The only reason you ever believed that this was a real person running this account was the amount of payments she made. It was absolutely absurd! Not only was she paying for literally all the extra spicy photos you posted— but it came to the point she went out of her way to make excess payments just for the hell of it! Your debit card was absolutely popping every single business day with more and more installments that this Yunjin girl sent you. Of course, you were a high paid model, who wracked up 40-50k a month, but honestly even how much she was paying you was too much.

And the weirdest part of it was she was paying thousands to ten thousand every week, without even a single comment or peep from her. Someone with that kind of spending habits must be someone who has some weird parasocial relationship… right?

Wrong!

It was always apparent that she kept a safe distance, never reaching out or demanding more raunchy photos from you, it just seemed like she was a viewer enjoying the content from afar. The idea of her doing this was perplexing, when people who sent far less on your photos where demanding far more than her. It was in some odd way, endearing to you. Coming to the point where you wanted to reach out to her and just get to know the woman who was practically paying your bills at this point. Not wanting to sound like a creep, you silently slid into her chat box with her, and sent a message. (Only for her to reply in a heartbeat.)

you: “Hey I saw you paying so much on my content thank you so much!”

yunnnnjin: “hi”

yunnnnjin: “yeah np, ur very beautiful”

you: “thank u sm!”

you: “I don’t want to sound ungrateful but why do you always pay extra? you don’t have to >_>”

yunnnnjin: “ah.. i just find you stunning”

you: “your my biggest supporter thank you!”

yunnnnjin: “this might be a weird question to ask, and I’m not demanding anything from you.”

you: “hm??”

yunnnnjin: “but can we film a collab”

staring right at your computer, your reading glasses was slowly falling down your face as you opened your jaw in disbelief. Did she seriously just say that? After mere minutes of meeting? What the fuck? So maybe she wasn’t any better than a man because what the hell just happened. You thought maybe you could trust her, believe that she wasn’t one of those entitled fans who felt the need to claim every inch of you, but I guess not. Honestly you felt disgusted she could ask this so quickly, but a morbid curiosity filled your mind, this could be a perfect way to make a little more money.

yunnnnjin: “sorry that was weird”

yunnnnjin: “i shouldn’t have said anything im sorry”

you: “… do u have a photo of ur face, like a video or something you can record right now so I know what I’m working with.”

*Yunjin sent 5 video attachments*

Admittedly you were scared to open the files she sent you, maybe this was all a prank and some sick friend was pulling this on you. But something just drew you in as you hovered your mouse on the reveal bar, clicking the photos, the blur was lifted and you were greeted with plethora of videos to look at. From first glance everything seemed to check out, but you wanted to make sure she didn’t just snag these from the internet.

The first video included her in a soft white robe, someone clearly putting makeup on her plush skin as she sat down. Humming a tune in the background that was oddly familiar to you, maybe a little too familiar.

The other 3 videos included her doing such mindless task like doing her make up, drinking coffee, even dancing to the beat of the music. But that’s not what interested you the most, what you gravitated toward was the video, with the first few frames being her face scrunched up, closing her eyes at her screen.

Playing the video, you were greeted by muffled groans, and the sound of skin rubbing against one another, almost in a rhythmic motion. As each time the skin glided across the other, she would let out the most intense moan, pleading with someone in front of the camera. Her eyes darting towards the scream as her mouth opened slightly, not clocking what she was doing until her moans became so loud, that the speakers on your computer started vibrating. Oh! She’s jacking off! While recording herself! How interesting!

That’s not what caught your eye though, it’s when she brung the camera down to the base of her thighs, propping the camera behind her thick perched up cock as she started rubbing it up and down. Her moans turning into pleading as she called out your screen name repeatedly, begging for her release like she was imagining it was your hands around her girth. She was far too much for you— to the point watching the precum dribble from the slit of her member made your skin crawl. You wished it was you making her feel that way, so you decided to continue watching until she reached her climax. Watching her hands slide up and down, quickening the pace and using her cum as leverage to fuck herself using her palm, made you go crazy. It wasn’t until she reached her maximum, as her legs buckled up slightly with her back arched cumming all over the screen. The bed squeaking as she fucked her hands aggressively to reach that climax she-oh-so desired. Your name rolling of her tounge so naturally as “fuckin’ so good” and “shit”, was mixed into it.

you: “wow”

you: “so you are real.”

yunnnnjin: “haha sorry if that last video is weird jst wanted u to know how much i want to collab”

you: “make sense, uhhhhhh i think we can, do u have an address?”

yunnnnjin: “perfect, and here’s my address, but tell me if you ever come over I’ll plan everything ahead”

You might’ve been sick in the head, because now you stood rooted in place standing in front of the door of her apartment. For all you knew she could’ve been a perverted killer on the loose, but seeing that video of her changed the trajectory of your life.

Knocking on the door, you heard someone stumble over themselves as the reached the door with a thud. A small groan escaping from a woman’s lips as she hurriedly pried the door open, your heartbeat racing. Finally as she opened the door, you met her brown gaze as her red hair fell gently over her face and covered a lot of her defining features. “You actually came.” Yunjin taking all of you in, being surprised that it was actually you as you covered your face with a black mask. Without warning she dragged your wrist and lead you into her nicely decorated apartment. All of her decor being of welloff brands and photos of her with 4 or sometimes 5 other girls.

She dragged you over to her bedroom, only to be met with professional lighting setups, cameras and other video recording tools set all around. She was clearly a little too prepared for her own good, down to the box of condoms that sat nicely on-top of the black bedsheets. “I got this all for you— I’m sorry if this is too much, but I didn’t know what else to do when you gave me this opportunity.” Tilting your head in confusion as from your knowledge she must’ve gotten all this equipment recently, since nothing about her profile said “model” or “photographer.”

“Ah thank you but you didn’t need to do all of that, besides I brought my video camera with me for a reason.” You insisted pulling out the black bag inside your even bigger gym back, showing her the camera as you slid it out. She stared back at you, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she looked back at everything she had prepared, mentally cursing herself when she should’ve know that you’d bring something fancy. “Oh this is a shame—“

“It’s fine, if you have everything set up, we can use this instead of what I’m using now, it’s probably better quality anyways.” And so you did, you began recording the first few clips, just some lingerie shots with Yunjin, or photographs with her tongue pressed agonist parts of your body. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but watching her boxers press up against your stomach, feeling her stiffened cock onto your tummy, made you feral. Greatful that you wore a face mask to cover your true identity, because with out it you’d be drooling by the contact of her boxers.

Thankfully, after snapping some promiscuous photos of the both of you, Yunjin offered to take some solo shots of you. This type without your top out, something that was so natural for you to do, made Yunjin’s breath hitch as your breast pooled into the free air. Fuck, you didn’t know how much she wanted to touch you right now, to have your nipple in her mourn while she played with your other breast. Or fucking your face and letting her precious cum fall down your chin and down to your chest. As the camera clicked on and on, her mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of fucking you mindlessly. Having her cum all over the nastiest parts of your body, while you scream her name all day long. And finally ripping off that black mask you used to cover your adorable face with so she could spurt all over you.

It took you a few minutes— actually almost half an hour to tell that her hardened cock was pressing even harder against her fabric, begging to be let out. As her mind drifted in and out of reality, you tried your best to snap her out of trance with no avail. “Yunjin—“ You called out her name once, “Yunjin?” A second time as you inched closer to her in your kneeling position, looking up at her soft gaze as she stared down at you. Before you could say her name one last time you where faced up, inches apart her hard member, looking up at her with, those, eyes.

Yunjin didn’t respond, not for a long time, her hands reaching out to your hair as she continued to click some more photos. Tangling her delicate slim fingers into your hair, taking more and more photos as you called out to her. “Fuck, S/N, you look so good” She mumbled, taking her hands out of your hair to pinch your cheeks up to give her your whole attention. Her breathing heavy as she watched your even movement, and how your face masked heaved up and down as she did so. “Can I fuck you princess, please— please let me use your pretty mouth baby.” Yunjin murmured, pulling her hands away from you as she held the waistband of her boxers.

Without any second thought, you brung your hands up and yanking it off of her, not wanting to admit that you wanted this more than her. As her boxers slid off so easily, you could see her cock take its place as it sprung up, the sheer size of it hitting her stomach as she had a painful erection.

It took you in awe for a few moments, the both of you not doing anything as you stared at her member, while she looked down at you in anticipation. “Holy shit— uh, can you get the video camera then?” You asked while Yunjin shook her head vigorously, tripping over herself to fully take off everything and grab the video taping camera on the side table. Running back, she began recording and pointing the camera down at you, indicating that the shot was already rolling.

You lifted your mask a little bit to place the head of her pink cock to the edge of your lips, placing the mask over, giving her little kitten licks as you do so. The sudden contact of your mouth on her most sensitive part made her let out the dirtiest moan, and bring her free hand to tangle it in your hair. “Fuck, that felt so nice baby.” She groaned out, petting your hair as you continued to bring your mouth to the base. The sheer size of it making you tear up, unable to handle how much you had to put in.

Yunjin was getting off to this, getting off to your gagging, getting off to the feeling of your small mouth around her dick, just getting off to the idea of you. “Is it— hah, too big princess?” She breathed out as she buckled her waist, pushing you to deep throat her thick cock. Leaving you to gag even more as she was pressing up against you, the tip off your nose touching her pelvis as she brung you deeper down. The sounds of your muffled gagging gave her more leverage to fist your hair and fuck into you. Letting dribbles of cum and salvia accumulate as drizzle down your chin. Luckily the mask you wore was able the cover the lewd juices leaking out from you mouth as you took her all.

Bobbing your head back and fourth, her fist was still clawing at your hair as she fucked your most so nicely. “Fuck— fuck…” She groaned, her dick writing in your mouth as you hummed, “mpfh” letting the vibrations of your voice to leave a nice sensation around her. Your tongue swirling around in circles, nose touching her pelvis as hot air coming from your nose sent shivers down her spine. From the way her hips where proceeding to buckle clearly indicated that she was close to climaxing.

With a few more thrusts into your mouth in an almost apathetic way, without any hesitation— she released all of her salty seed into your mouth. Slowing pulling away as she swayed the rest of her cum inside, the lose of contact made a popping noise. “Shit.” Yunjin examined how good you looked as she slowly pulled off your mask, to admire the cum and saliva dribbling down your mouth. Ripping her hands away from your hair, she placed her thumb on where the main stream of liquid resided, and pushed everything back into your mouth. “Swallow it up.” Yunjin demanded, watching you make a show out of it, going as far as to open your mouth after you finished. “Mm, good girl.”

urgahfhhhh I was gonna add so much more but after this I got drained smh. full on smut sex scene cummin’ up when I feel like it LOL!!!!

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

The Prophet spoke, and the faithful knelt

Summary : You would never be a hero for Zaun, a revolutionary, a leader. But you would care for your prophet with every single breath your body would allow.

Pairing : Viktor x Reader

Word count : 3.2K

Warning : Explicit

You couldn't remember the last time someone had looked at you with something other than disgust.

The bumps on your skin were large and deformed, like warts on a toad's back. Dark, unnatural purple spots had consumed most of your body, your veins glowing faintly inside your flesh. Staring at them, pulsating like worms making their way through your organs, still gave you unparalleled nausea. You were the kind of monster little children of Piltover feared in the shadowy corners of their bedroom, and you couldn't remember a time when it had been otherwise

The others like you all lived in small, crummy camps, where the warmth of a teared-up blanket was something worth killing your neighbour for. If the value of human life was close to none in Zaun, here, it was worth absolutely nothing.

A wasteland inside a wasteland.

Most lived off scraps left by bars; there were few other ways to get food. The familiar feeling of hunger digging its sharp claws into your stomach had never lessened. For water, there were only the thick metal pipes, going above to supply the golden city, which sometimes leaked drinkable but rusty liquid.

The best days, the only bearable days, were those where you found half-used needles of shimmer in the trash. For a few blissful hours, you were someone else, somewhere else, and nothing in the world could hurt you. Then it was back to being cold, hungry, and alone.

You had tried to live a semblance of a life, once, when the craving for shimmer hadn't been so all-consuming. But addicts were bad for business: customers didn't like seeing them, with their empty eyes and malformed bodies, and they were a very poor investment for an employer. How many months, or days, before they would abandon their job in favour of chasing their never-ending high?

Then there were the whore houses. One could get a few pieces of copper, if their body wasn't too ravaged by the drug. Damaged goods still sell, but for a fraction of the price. And yet there it was no better either: patrons would come in, use you, and leave, without ever looking you in the eye. Like you were less than human.

But not him.

He looked at you without ever flinching, without ever shying away. There was no sign of disgust or pity in those strange eyes of his, but an endless compassion, something that went beyond your comprehension. As if a simple glance at you had allowed him to read every corner of your soul.

You could have sworn time had stopped the second he locked eyes with you. In the warm amber of his pupils swayed a reflection of pale blue, like sunset on the ocean.

You had fallen to your knees without ever willing your body to do so, pressing your forehead against the cold gravel. It feels natural, almost instinctive, to bow in the presence of a god. For what other word could describe him, his presence, his aura?

Did someone like you, ugly, broken, filthy, deserve to see beauty like this?

A gentle hand brought your face back up towards the sky, lithe fingers tucked under your chin. Soft, so soft.

His eyes were back into yours, the sunset having morphed into a pool of liquid gold. Tears had begun to fall from your eyes, rolling down your scarred cheeks and onto his delicate hands. He shushed you before you attempted to speak, like he already knew whatever words you would tell him.

“It's alright. I will take care of you.”

The digits slid slowly across your face, impossibly smooth, and you couldn't help but nuzzle into the touch, revelling in the feeling of a sensation you had all but forgotten. He softly pushed the dirty hood off your face, hand settling on top of your matted hair. You closed your eyes; whatever this man was willing to give you, be it salvation or judgement, you simply knew you were ready to accept it.

And then, everything became light.

—

You saw him perform miracle after miracle following that day. He brought people back from the depths of hell, which they'd lived in for so long, with the simple touch of a hand. He brought back the smiles, the joy, and the hope all of you had given up on.

To your community, he was everything.

The familiar presence of his voice called for you inside your mind. It was so comforting, having him there, feeling him as a part of you. Knowing he would never leave you, that he would never let you be alone again.

He looked like a statue when you found him, seated in his cave, still and ethereal beyond your mortal comprehension. The gods had crafted his face from porcelain; his body from the world's most precious metals; his eyes from the sun and the sea; and his smile with the very essence of magic.

“Here you are. I was beginning to worry.”

That was not true; both of you knew very well you had heard his voice and were rushing to come to his side. Yet, the idea that a being such as him would worry about someone like you made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“Herald?”

“Mm?”

He blinked, calmly, peacefully, as his eyes met yours once more. No other feeling compared. His pupils glowed inside the barely lit cave, a gentle and divine light emanating from his face.

The words were hard to get out, and you found yourself fidgeting with your hands, looking away from his perfect gaze.

Get a hold of yourself, you admonished your brain. You had practiced this moment more than once.

You were certain he knew exactly what you were about to ask him; he knew every thought going through your mind, after all. Which meant he knew of the nights you spent dreaming of him, of his body, and of the hundreds of ways you craved the touch of your messiah.

But he simply looked at you, calm and composed, the hint of a smile barely on his lips.

Briefly, you wondered if he was teasing you by letting you stew in your anxiety.

“I have come to realize,” you began unsurely, voice almost breaking, “that you always take care of others, Herald. Always take care of people like me.”

He observed you with that indecipherable gaze, still not moving an inch. You gathered all your courage to stare back at him as you pronounced your next words decidedly:

“But does nobody take care of you, Herald?”

He smiled, properly this time, yet still calm and moderate. It was beyond beautiful, his delicate features marked by soft dimples, the hint of a mole over his lips. You would have given your life in a heartbeat if it meant he would have smiled at you like this once more.

“I don't require such things anymore,” he explained serenely, fingers absentmindedly tracing the complex patterns of his arm. “This body doesn't feel cold, or hunger, or want. It is pure of all the desires the man I once was might have had.”

You swallowed with difficulty; was he rejecting your advances? You could not bear living without knowing you had done everything for him, given him every inch of your being.

“But that man,” you tried once more, moving a timid step forward, “he is still part of you, isn't he? Wouldn't it only be fair to take care of him too?’

There was not a hint of confusion in his expression; he understood exactly what you meant. Yet one of his eyebrows had slightly risen, perhaps of amusement or appreciation for your boldness.

“If you have something in mind,” he simply replied, his thick accent hypnotic, “you should show me.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

You would show him what his gift had meant to you.

Gradually, reverently, you approached the frugal throne where he sat, a simple rock formation at the back of the cave. You kneeled at his feet and gazed up, unsure if you were allowed to touch him. He gave you a light nod, a glim of endearment in his eyes.

With deference, you slid the fabric of his tunic to the side, parting his knees to give you access. You felt your cheeks heat at the realization he had no underwear, trepidation bubbling in your lower stomach. Then you stopped right in your tracks.

Where there should have been… something, there was nothing.

Your mouth opened in surprise, but no words managed to find their way out. You spluttered, confused, gaping at the being above you.

A low, small chuckle.

His luminous eyes were teasing, barely enough so that someone else would not have recognized it; but you did.

“I could not resist to watch your reaction,” he admitted, “My apologies.”

His delicate hand covered the area of his groan, and a faint light shone between the cracks of his fingers. The sound of metal forming, pieces sliding with one another, echoed inside the empty cave. When he removed his hand, it was as if the member had always been there.

As you had always pictured in your dreams, the Herald was well endowed, even in a softened state. It was without question like a regular human’s, but devoid of any veins, marks, and bumps. Not a single hair adorned the base. It was all perfectly smooth, the head only distinct from the rest of the length with its thickness.

He was art, in the most primordial sense of the term, and you could do nothing but admire him.

“This body shapes to my will,” the Herald explained at your look of awe, “It had no need for genitalia, so it did not have any. At least… before now.”

Your fingertips slid timidly on the indigo skin, feeling the polished texture. The contact felt pleasantly electric, like his body brimmed with untapped energy. The first small lick was somehow nostalgic, the feel of popping candies bursting pleasantly on your tongue.

When you wrapped your lips around him, you could immediately tell his taste was unlike anything you'd ever had before. The coppery flavour of metal mixed with something so enticingly sweet it could not be anything other than the taste of the arcane itself. An encouraging hand petted your head softly, fingers threading through strands of your hair. You moaned with your mouth still full of him; a single touch from him was enough to have your core burnt with want. You sped up your pace, taking as much of him in your mouth as you possibly could. The energy pulsated against your tongue, his cock hardening to your rhythmic pace. The thickness of his tip kept hitting the back of your throat, cutting oxygen for a few blissful milliseconds at a time and making you see stars.

It was perfect.

And yet, after a few minutes, you realized something was wrong.

You'd been with your fair share of men and women before. The twitching, the moaning, the cramping of the thighs from the building pleasure and the coming release- it was all absent.

You pulled back with a soft ‘pop’, looking up at your prophet once more for guidance. The same all-knowing visage stared back at you, that boundless compassion he had for all mankind. You understood what was happening, now.

“Herald,” you said slowly, voice horse from taking him, “why have you called me today?”

Silence. It looked as though he was thinking over his next words, choosing how best to explain things to you.

“I could sense you needed guidance,” he finally answered, “Support. I merely wanted to help in the way you needed me.”

Helping you. He was helping you once again. Even now, when you begged him to let you help him, he was still only thinking of others.

“You're not satisfied,” the Herald deduced from your crestfallen expression, “Why?”

Tears of frustrated devotion prickled the corner of your eyes, and you felt like a pathetically pouting child:

“My goal was not to satisfy myself. It was to please you.”

Perhaps you had dreamed it, but a glimmer of surprise flashed in his sunset gaze, gone too soon for you to ever be certain.

“Allow me to try once again, please. I will do better,” you requested, resting your head against his inner thigh, his cock still perfectly hard against your cheek. Looking up at him from under your eyelashes, you whispered your next words like a prayer, hoping it would reach him: “It is all I want to do from the deepest part of my heart.”

The smile again, so slight and yet so luminous. Perhaps he hadn't cured your addiction to shimmer, and had simply replaced it with the profound need of him. A drug you never wanted to be freed from.

“Very well,” he acquiesced, voice low, “you may do it again.”

This time, you could tell there was a genuine look of surprise in his neutral expression when you stood. ‘So he can't tell my thoughts immediately as I have them,’ you reflected silently. ‘I can use that.’

It was without asking that you made your way onto his lap, legs bent on both sides of his thighs. The position wasn't very comfortable, rocks digging into your knees; but he was so close to you that you felt the warmth of the arcane emanating from every pore of his body. The pleased look he gave you at your initiative made you feel emboldened, and you guided his cock to your entrance, lining yourself to slowly slide down on his length.

“I do not wish to interrupt,” the Herald made you pause, thick eyebrows furrowed in slight worry, “or to appear to stroke my ego, either. But I believe it would be wise to… prepare yourself, prior to taking me.”

You looked away in embarrassment, confidence fading, not wanting to reply directly. To explain how you had prepared yourself for him in your tent, in the slim hopes this moment might happen, would certainly be the death of you.

His eyebrows rose back up, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. He understood.

“I almost forgot how prepared you always are. Clever girl.”

You felt yourself tighten at the compliment. You committed the words to memory, engraving them in your mind forever. You would never forget when your Herald had praised you.

You patiently lowered yourself onto him, inch by inch, getting accustomed to him. A little shamefully, there was an undeniable selfishness of wanting this moment to last as long as possible.

When you took him whole, it was almost too overwhelming to bear.

His size was an undeniable component, both in length and girth. You had to wonder: had he been so big when he was but a regular man?

‘Yes’, a familiar voice supplied in your head. Had you not known better, you could have sworn his tone was slightly cocky.

But it wasn't just his dick, either. The flow of energy running through you from the point of your connection was dizzyingly intense, coherent thoughts barely stringing together. It felt like the high of shimmer but unbelievably more potent, simultaneously cutting you open and putting your body back together. This was being alive.

“Breathe,” he reminded you, a guiding hand sliding to the small of your back. Even now, he still took such good care of you. Overwhelmed tears had begun to fall down your eyes without you sensing their presence, and you tried to regain some semblance of your senses.

For a while, minutes, maybe hours, only the sound of your panting resonated through the cave. You gripped the Herald's shoulders tightly, scrunching the fabric of his tunic in your fists. His impartial expression never changed, but neither did the way his hand held you in place and comforted you. Once it felt as though your lungs were getting air again, you began moving.

All of it seemed like a dream; the feeling of fullness between your legs, the slow drag of his cock inside you, the warm wetness of your juices slipping out with each trust. If there was no heaven for sinners, then you had found your own right here. You picked up the pace, settling into a fast and wild rhythm. You scanned his features for any sign of disturbance; the slightest hint of red coloured his pale cheeks, the faintest laboured breath coming from his lips.

So he was still a bit human, after all.

You kept moving with renewed vigour, not able to contain wanton moans of pleasure.

“May I try something?” he asked, voice low, deeper than you had ever heard him speak.

You let out a sound of approval that dissolved into nonsense when the tip of his cock hit the spot you had carefully been avoiding. This time, he moved, ramming over and over against your cervix, too deep for comfort, shaping you to him and only him. You were so close, right on the edge, begging him for release with gibberish.

He had undeniably felt your incoming demise, and with one last push inside your core, he leaned his head forward, bringing both of your foreheads together.

In that moment, you were him as much as he was you, a single mind in perfect balance. You saw everything he saw, felt everything he felt. The weight and lightness of the cosmos, the thousands of strings connecting him to his followers, the understanding of the final step for humanity.

The Glorious Evolution.

And with that, you came, body spasming uncontrollably against his. You fell into the crook of his neck in exhaustion, sobbing, wondering if you had just died in your prophet's arms. Far away, as if he was in another room, you heard his comforting voice shushing your whines, his long fingers caressing your cheek. He looked at you as if you were the one to be admired. Too much, it was all too much.

Perhaps an eternity had passed as you came back to your senses. Things felt tangible once more, corporal, the now cold feeling of your wetness drying on your inner thighs. There was a feeling of awkwardness, of embarrassment, and you hesitated between staying still or pulling him out of you. Were there proper steps to follow after something like this, or any steps at all?

“You didn't…” you commented, unsure what proper term to use to not seem crass.

You didn't cum. You didn't fill me.

“I am not certain that would still be biologically possible for me,” he answered with little emotion, seemingly neither bothered nor frustrated by that fact.

Even if he hadn't been linked to your mind, your disappointment would have been palpable. You had wanted him to experience some of the relief he had given you, to release all that could have troubled him inside you. You wanted to care for him.

Selfishly, perhaps, there had also been the want to carry your prophet's seed so no one would ever question who you belonged to.

“However, to the extent this body can still feel pleasure…” he continued, not missing a beat, otherworldly gaze deep in yours, “you took great care of me. Thank you.”

This time, you smiled.

You would never be a hero for Zaun, a revolutionary, a leader. But you would care for your prophet with every single breath your body would allow.

And there was nothing more important to you than that.

[briseroyawritingsblog]

𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔

𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒎𝒂𝒏!𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

• +18 minors do not interact. faul language, inappropriate thoughts, mutual attraction, large age gap, etc.

𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

divider by @anitalenia

Working in red light district was nothing but dangerous. Even though it paid your bills perfectly you hated your job. You hated the fact that men gawked at your body, sticking their drunk ugly faces on the window. Your job was to stand behind the glass and to lure more men inside the pleasure house. It was called bordello but it was a bar, strip club, and much more. It was filthy, men were disgusting. Treating women like objects. You would never let men treat you that way or even touch you. Applying cherry lipstick to your lips it was your turn to stand behind the glass— few hours of misery. This time there was a chair where you could sit but you had to give a little show to desperate married men who came in and threw dollar bills at your box because you were so damn pretty for them. Behind all that makeup and pretty stockings was just a normal woman. A woman who had a normal soul and who was never touched by a man before.

Logan groaned as he parked his black Chrysler just in front of the bordello. Your gaze immediately landing on the men who were stepping out of the limo. Chatting and holding bottle of dark liquor. The driver seemed to be a tall man dressed in black. His grey hair complimented his outgrown beard and the specs on top of his nose only added to his handsomeness. You sat down on your chair, parting your legs biting your lower lip. The men which came out of his limo were already glued to the window swooning at your legs and your high heels. One of them even licked the window and you smiled. Logan met your gaze, your beauty mesmerised him— you were there like a doll. So small.. he grunted shutting the door on his limo lighting a cigar leaning against his car. He was told to wait so even if he would wait for hours he was getting paid for it. He didn’t mind that- it just really gave him some time to drink away his worries and aches in his body. Holding the cigar between his lips he looked at his phone. The more you observed him, the more he reminded you of someone. Taking your time to observe his trembling hands, his cough gave you a tiny worry. Maybe he was sick? But why so much liquor?

“Come on sweetheart give us a twirl maybe bend over so we can see those pretty thongs are you wet for us? Are we getting lucky? look at you let me pay you for the night. How much do you want?” One of the men approached your glass and you smiled. How did you want? You wanted to get out of the box and just go home. “I am not a toy” you replied making him chuckle gulping on the whiskey which he held in his hand telling his friends that somehow he wants only you. “Of course you’re a fucking toy, now get out of the glass and suck my dick.” Logan heard it, oh he heard what they were saying. Choosing to ignore the thunder in his chest he sighed. You looked at the man by his limo and then back at the rude men tears filling your eyes. How long did you have to endure this torture. Your line of work came with so much hatred. “Nah dude she’s not going to move, let her go. Let’s go inside” you sighed with a relief as they disappeared inside the club. Your heart nearly jumping out of your chest.

Logan didn’t look at you. He couldn’t look at you because you were too beautiful to look at. You were a sin and he was an old man who would never have a chance to be graced by your presence. You weren’t a stripper for sure and you weren’t a ‘working’ girl either. You were just… you.

The next following days you had the same customers coming to the bordello. You cringed at the sounds which could be heard from the down the hall as you walked out your closet. You wore a black mesh dress, your neck occupied black beads with a cross. Your hair was straightened this time and you had a black matte lipstick on your lips. Stepping inside your box you gazed outside, men were standing outside drinking and smoking and there it was. The black limo parked just opposite the club, smoke coming out the window. Logan was watching you again, he waited until you came on. He could indulge gazing at you all night long if time would allow him. You were gorgeous— your outfit was different and he understood that you had to dress up to meet men’s expectations but hell you looked like a sin. The way your lips wrapped around the cross he groaned and looked away. Why was he even there? Why did he stay? You knew he was looking at you and it was nothing wrong with it. In fact he was giving you a sense of safety. You were desired and hungered for but this man was different wasn’t he?

Finishing your shift three hours later, you changed out of the clothes which you hated the most and slipped on a pair of jeans. An oversized shirt, pair of fluffy socks and uggs. Wrapping yourself in a hoodie you grabbed your bag and car keys to leave. Like this you were almost unrecognisable— walking out the club using the back door of course you heard men nearby. You hurried to your car until they stopped you by pushing you against it.

“Here she is! Are we getting what we want tonight?” You wanted to scream. A hand came up to your lips shushing your whimpers and screams tears rolling down your cheeks. No.. you didn’t want to die. You didn’t want to be hit. Closing your eyes you prayed..

Oh god.. help me..

[thebluester2020]

[GI] Kinktober Day 22: "Audience"

Summary: It's no secret that you were Pierro's prettiest and newest little toy. But so many rowdy recruits trying to see if they can play with you as well, Pierro has no choice but to show you that he's the only one who gets to play with you.

Warning(s): Public sex, Exhibitionism, Bimbo!Reader, Trophy wife!Reader, Lightly hinted that the Reader was bought, Praise Kink, Some hints on Infidelity (on the reader's side ngl), Throat-fucking,

Side Note(s): My guilty pleasure has always been trophy wives/husbands. I'm shocked I haven't done something like this sooner low-key.

Oh, it was just bliss being Pierro's pretty little thing on his arm!

Through Pierro's position of being the one who started the Fatui, all with the help of the honorable Tsaritsa, his influence was infinite. No one could touch him and, in turn, you. He had enough money to fund all of your silly little habits whether it was getting into the arts or wanting to clean out stores in the name of getting all the latest clothing items. Your sex life with him was mind-blowing, you've never left the bedroom without either being weak in the knees, absolutely shaking, or feeling as if the only name you could say much less think of was Pierro's.

Life was wonderful. But...as of lately, your husband has been more possessive than he usually would.

He kept mumbling things about "rowdy new recruits not knowing their places" or "them not having enough brain to know that they shouldn't touch his property". You hadn't thought there was a single thing wrong with the new recruits! They were so sweet to you each time you happened to find yourself out and about without Pierro by your side, which was often due to his duties. During those times, the recruits would immediately come up to you and greet you! Sometimes they'd place a hand on your lower backside or even kiss you so kindly on the cheek!

So many times have you gone over to the recruit barracks, they'd so sweetly keep you warm by wrapping their arms around you or even suggest that they all should share a bed with you so that you could truly stay warm.

You thought your silly husband was just being needlessly jealous.

The recruits were friendly and nothing more.

But...apparently, Pierro didn't see it like that. And he was far more jealous than you originally thought he was, to begin with.

. . .

The noises that were currently being forced from your lips were embarrassing, absolutely disgusting as you choked and gagged around Pierro's cock, currently positioned on your knees in front of all of Pierro's recruits regardless of they were old or new. It seemed that your husband catching you and a recruit being too handsy with one another was as big of a deal as you originally thought it would be! But, Pierro was content with showing you as well as alllll of his recruits, both old and new, exactly who his wife belonged to.

"Filthy slut...don't you know who you belong to?" Pierro growled to you, a furious glare in his stormy eyes as he looked down at you, his hand tangled in the strands of your hair as he pulled you back and forth on his cock, feeling his thick length bulge out in your throat while you were helpless to do nothing more than take it. "You see this, men?" Pierro then boldly addressed his recruits just as spit bubbles started to pop up at the corners of your mouth. Your eyes threatened to roll to the back of your head, the fact that you weren't allowed to pleasure of yourself nearly driving you insane in combination with the shame of having so many people watch your husband slut you out. "This is my wife. No matter how much she tries to whore herself out to you—" You gagged when his pace became more ruthless, your hands flying to try and stabilize yourself against his thighs.

"—she isn't to be touched. Unless...you want to end up like them." You weren't able to see what everyone had turned their eyes towards but...you were going to go ahead and assume that it was quite the sight. Your husband was possessive, if you were touched, the people who did so always mysteriously ended up missing the next day, the poor fellows!

But, you didn't have too much brain power to think about that at the moment. "Good fucking slut...all you're good for is being a brainless cock sleeve, eh?" Pierro groaned, out of breath as he then started to suck in his bottom lip, his thighs flexing as a sign of his approaching climax. He pushed his hips flush against your face, nearly blocking off your only remaining air source before he smirked at your tear-stained face. Your cheeks were beet red and your eyes wider than a doe's, he could almost see the hearts within' your pupils.

This was supposed to be a punishment not a reward.

"Tch, you're enjoying this aren't you, wife?" He hummed, his eyes beginning to flutter as he groaned at the way your throat squeezed around him. You moaned around him as he began to gently pat your head, immediately trying to press yourself closer to him like a dog who was enjoying attention from its owner. Your visible devotion to him made his cock twitch in your throat, his hand then moving to gently grip your head again before he resumed pulling you up and down his length, starting off at a steady pace before slowly increasing until he quietly cursed under his breath when he pushed you against his pelvis, his hairs tickling your face as you felt ropes of his cum shoot down your throat.

You stayed there for a couple of minutes until you were forced off his cock.

Once you took a few breaths, you had no sense of shame when you asked your next question— "...Do I get another reward, honey?" You giggled dumbly before you hitched up your dress, just enough for your husband to see the mess that was between your thighs. He was frozen for a beat or two before he smirked, he supposed the recruits wouldn't mind another show of witnessing who you belonged to.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hi, I was wondering if you could create a scenario where reader is in the garden working and gets hot and sweaty and Donna just becomes a mess and when Reader goes to take a shower and undresses in front of Donna, she just devours her in the shower (smut pls).

Also could you please make Donna G!P?

Thank you!!!!

Yess!!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

Heat

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, gardener! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, fluff

Word count: 5,199

Summary: It's a hot day and you want to take advantage of that...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!I love you all!!!

“Okay, okay... You don't like me and I don't like you either,” you said, pacing from one side of the garden to the other. “I know that you were born and raised here, with only one promise in your minds: to take revenge on the woman who took the lives of your ancestors. Well, it's time to decide who is stronger.”

Saying that sentence, as if you were really participating in a witch hunt, demon hunt, or something similar, you triumphantly waved the pruning shears in your hand with a sinister smile.

“Pray now, my dear enemies, because I’ll have no mercy.”

It might seem like you took your job as a gardener too lightly, but in reality, it was quite the opposite.

Luck seemed to smile on you since you were just a little girl, granting you an innate ability for plants. Luck? Oh yes, of course.

In a place like that, in that village lost between mountains, which didn’t know the world and which the world didn’t know, to have a skill beyond knowing how to sew or farm was to consider yourself lucky.

Your friends grew up with you, but none of them were left. Some married, others were sent to the castle to serve Lady Dimitrescu. Others, unfortunately, could not bear the thought of spending the rest of their days praying to Mother Miranda and the Black Gods.

In your youth, you had considered all of those possibilities. Serve, marry or surrender. There were few options and you didn't like any of them. You were never exactly the most faithful of the villagers, nor the most interested in men. You also didn't think giving up was something to be proud of.

No, you hadn't spent your entire life surviving hunger and the Lords of that place only to be dinner for a filthy lycan. Your life was worth much more than that, and that's how you wanted to be seen.

At first it might seem that knowing how to tame a wild garden could only lead you to be part of the castle's army of maidens, but you soon discovered that this curious skill opened different doors for you, the doors of the Beneviento Estate.

A monstrously large woman, a deformed fish man and a crazy man with a factory. Each and every one of the Lords was the reincarnation of any nightmare. All but one.

Unlike her siblings, Donna Beneviento was not huge, she didn’t live in a disgusting swamp and she didn’t experiment on corpses (you thought she didn’t, of course)

She was a lonely and sick woman, according to the villagers. No one who had the audacity to enter the forest and reach her territory had been lucky enough to tell it. You knew that there was no reason to think she wasn't as dangerous as they said, but she didn't seem as terrible as you had heard, especially after knowing her.

Yes, she could be a strange woman, not specially talkative, disturbed and embarrassed by her appearance. But, the danger word didn't appear in your mind when you offered to tend her garden.

Well, okay, maybe you had forgotten to remember that you were the cheekiest girl in the entire village and that an army of Lycans or nightmares wasn't enough to wipe the sardonic smile off your face.

If Donna hired you because of your ability to not fear the fear itself, or on the contrary (and as you later found out) because the garden of that mansion was a complete disaster was not important to you.

The point is you had been working for the Lord for almost a year, and for just over six months you had been totally addicted to her. Yes, you could not see her face, it was strange to hear her talk, but, without knowing how, she began to form a kind of dense cloud between you. A cloud of sexual tension you already took for granted since the first time you heard a shy laugh behind that black veil.

Did you always have to look for the most complicated woman? You couldn't live any other way.

Comments, mockery, hints that weren't so... After so much time behaving that way with the lady in black, you thought you should already be at the bottom of that beautiful waterfall but... No, you were still alive and that shy laugh was more and more frequent.

Were you playing with the most dangerous woman in the village? Of course you were, and you wouldn't stop until that tension dissipated, or until you died trying to get to know Donna Beneviento better, just a bit better. Well, quite a bit, well, until your smile could make her realize your addiction to her presence.

But even if you considered that little game of cat and mouse one of your favorite hobbies, you never neglected your work. That didn't mean that your drama queen skills didn't brighten up the boring task of making that garden stop looking like a jungle.

“Ugh, the sun has taken that warming thing seriously,” you sighed, running a hand over your sweaty forehead, looking at the unusual clear sky of that morning. “But that's not going to stop me,” you said amused, squinting at a corner full of weeds, to which you had already sworn revenge.

Taking off your shirt, leaving you only in a thin tank top, you continued with your work, even though the heat was getting more and more intense.

“A few rays of sun are not enough to stop me,” you growled, bending down to pull a tuft of damaged grass that was resisting your pulls. “You won't be able to beat me, you will never beat (Y/N), the Superhuman and Invincible Plant Warrior... Come on...”

With a strong tug, that rebellious little plant gave way to your hands, but you fell backwards to the ground with a thud.

When you caught your breath, you opened your eyes. The sun was very bright, but it was partially eclipsed by a black figure looking down at you, Donna.

“Superhuman and Invincible Plant Warrior?” the lady murmured, with a low but amused tone, or so you imagined.

“You can call me Plant Warrior, for short,” you said amused, standing up and dusting off your scant clothing. The lady laughed, causing your corners to rise again.

Was Donna really a hobby for you? Was she something else? How did you really feel about her? Too many questions.

“Do you want something, Donna?” you asked elegantly, but with that darkness shadowing your kind smile. “Or did you just want to see me?”

The lady shifted in her place, not responding to the hint that had become routine for a long time. The woman simply shook her head, confused, as she played with her hands in front of her body.

“Today is a hot day,” she commented with that hoarse, soft tone, damaged by lack of use, at least with anyone that wasn’t you.

You nodded, taking off your gloves and moving your tank top to give you some air.

“Yes, I think that if you varnish me a with gravy, in two hours I will be completely done,” you joked, now yes, earning another one of her shy laughs, one of those that you didn't want to stop hearing. “(Y/N) baked… Or better, (Y/N) in her sauce. What do you say?”

“I'm sure you're delicious,” she said, with a dark voice, making your smile grow even more.

“You think so?” you asked, getting a little closer to the woman in black, who made a move to back away, but she ended up staying in her place, as if regretting having made that comment.

“Um, yeah, um, I…” she stammered, clearing her throat and averting her gaze from yours, or so you thought. That damn black veil… “I think you've done enough for today, (Y/N). You are free to leave if you want.”

“Oh, well, I still have that dark corner over there,” you said, scratching the back of your neck, disappointed because that tension didn't seem to want to end, as well as Donna's shyness, which was surely preventing her from disappearing.

“It doesn't matter,” she whispered, shaking her head. “You're going to get sunstroke if you spend another hour out here.”

“I... Okay, okay, you're in charge,” you said with a sigh, with a more serious, sad look that you hoped she would understand. You were deluded, Donna could never understand the complexity of human emotions, but you couldn't blame her for that.

“Wait, (Y/N),” the lady said, running to your side when you grabbed your jacket, ready to return to your lonely cabin, to your life far away from Donna.

You enjoyed that abruptness for a moment and turned around in an elegant manner.

“I, um... Hey, I made some lemonade and... I thought you might like it... You know, it's, it's hot,” the lady stuttered as you walked back to meet her, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, sure,” you said, maybe too quickly.

The lady in black nodded elegantly and turned around, entering the house and timidly gesturing for you to follow her.

The sound of the clock was the only thing that could be heard in the old living room. Sitting at the table, you looked at each other in complete silence while your body refreshed itself with that delicious lemonade. It could be one of those situations that you imagined at night, but you knew it wasn't.

Despite being right where you wanted, next to whom you wanted, shyness appeared in your thoughts, quickly devastated by the impudence with which you lived your life.

“Well...” you whispered, playing with the ice in your glass.

“Well,” she repeated, in an almost inaudible tone, thus showing she was also nervous, like always when she was close enough to your mischievous smile.

There were no more words. The clock's hand was once again the dominant sound of that gloomy mansion. Luckily, the fact you had entered that place for the first time gave you the opportunity to spend time looking at each of those details. It was a huge house, really big, too big for just one woman and her sinister puppet who, mysteriously, showed no signs of life.

“So... Plant Warrior,” Donna murmured, moving the black cloth from her face to take a sip from her glass. You smiled, pouring more liquid into yours.

“Superhuman Warrior,” you corrected, tipping the jug into the lady's glass.

She shook her head and your ears were blessed again with the sweet sound of her low-key laugh.

“Have you ever taken something seriously?” she asked, with an informal tone, but retaining the elegance that was expected from her position as a Lord, something that… Well, it made the sinful sensations that ran through your body only increase.

“Hey, I take it seriously,” you protested, amused, frowning and crossing your arms.

You didn't know why, but that posture made the lady move nervously. You had forgotten that you were only wearing a tank top. Just to think that your shamelessly exposed body was making Donna nervous made the thoughts stop being lustful and become even more lustful. Stop, (Y/N)

“What exactly do you take seriously?” she asked, tilting her head to emphasize she was looking directly at you.

“To work for you,” you answered, hiding your sinister smile behind the glass of lemonade, which was beginning to drip onto your skin.

 Is that why the lady shifted again in her chair with a strange sigh? You wanted to think so.

“Superhuman Warrior?” she asked with a soft tone, implying that there was a smile forming on her mysterious face, a smile that you were dying to see.

“Oh, come on, I just did a little imagination exercise. In this boring village you have to find a way so the shadows don't kill you,” you explained, realizing your mistake immediately. “Um, well, not boring, because thanks to the blessing of the Black Gods and Mother Miranda…”

“Boring, huh?” Donna said, crossing her arms, annoyed by your careless words.

“No, no, no...” you said, moving your hands to emphasize your correction. Too late. “Not boring because… Well, because… It's, it's fun to know when you're going to die torn apart by a lycan and of course, Miranda's masses are very, very funny,” you joked.

“Of course, I'm sure you have a lot of fun,” Donna said, with a slightly darker tone and a superb posture, very attentive to your reaction.

Making a strangely embarrassed face, you scratched your head, searching in the deeps of your mind for some witty response.

“Of course, I'm laughing my ass off,” you said with your eyebrows raised, trying to maintain a calm tone, not being sure if this unusual conversation would serve to understand or study the limits of her patience or simply to put an end to them.

“It's funny,” Donna murmured, nodding, relaxing her posture. You looked at her confused. “I don't remember having seen you in the last… 10 masses.”

“No? Oh, of course, with that thing on your face it's sure hard to see anything,” you joked, closing your eyes because your way of being had overcome the circumstances.

Donna snorted, going completely silent for a moment, frozen in time.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, changing amusement for concern. She nodded slowly, resuming her movements.

“I'm sure I haven't seen you, (Y/N),” she whispered, her voice breaking, probably because of your unfortunate comment. “I would remember.”

You faked a smile when you saw that at least that time, you had emerged unscathed from your impudence.

“Yes, yes, the girl who snores in the last row, that's me,” you joked again, drawing another shy laugh from her lips from the lady in black, who shook her head again.

“You have no remedy,” the lady whispered, with an amused tone, which was distorted when your hand ran over the skin just above your neckline, shiny with sweat.

Noticing her incipient nervousness, you did it more slowly, leaning over the table to give her a better view of what seemed to distract her that much.

“Check it next time,” you whispered in a honeyed tone, savoring the words and the slight tremor that shook her glass as she looked away from it.

“Do you want me to prove that you are a liar?” she asked, regaining her composure at the indiscreet vision of your soaked body, of your… too noticeable feminine attributes.

“Non si può mai sapere,” you sighed, happy for having found the perfect situation to say that phrase that you had been rehearsing for days.

Donna laughed, moving her body subtly, crossing her arms.

“Nice try,” she whispered with a dangerous, somewhat dark tone. As always, it was impossible for you to know if a smile adorned her face or rather your horrible pronunciation had offended her. You hoped it was a beautiful smile.

“I'm doing my best,” you said, taking another sip of lemonade while raising and lowering your eyebrows mockingly.

“I'm not going to raise your salary because you learn Italian, (Y/N),” she said, imitating your gesture with an overwhelming calm, like everything she did.

“Come on, I've been learning for months,” you joked with a smile that looked like a pout. “I already know how to say hello and goodbye.”

“It's the same word.”

“Yes, but… What a word...” you said, shaking your head, putting on an intellectual face, something you didn't know how to do at all.

Again, her soft, velvety laugh reached your ears like the best of balms.

Silence fell on you like a heavy weight, one that forced you to lower your shoulders and your gaze.

“I would like to know something else about you,” Donna murmured, with a sigh inaudible to ordinary mortals, but not to you, who looked up surprised by that phrase that came from nowhere.

“Oh, um...” you murmured, a bit confused.

“Do you feel uncomfortable?” she asked suddenly, probably seeing your doubtful and surprised attitude.

“No, no, no, not at all, it's just that...” you said, with a fake smile, controlling the nerves that were beginning to rise through your heated body. “Well, I'm not used to you being interested in me.”

“Do you think I'm interested in you?” the lady asked, with a superb posture again. You frowned, but kept that smile. Again, she had gotten nervous.

“You just said you wanted to know things about me. That's being interested,” you joked with a dark voice, leaning discreetly again. “Or maybe… You are interested in other things about me…”

“Yes, I mean, no,” Donna stammered, uncomfortable with the indiscreet exposure of your sweaty body to her gaze. “Why are you that way?”

“What way?” you asked, feigning disorientation. “I was born with this body.”

"No, no," Donna interrupted, defensively putting her hands in front of her torso. “Why are you so...?”

“So…?”

“Uhg, so… You,” she finally said, shaking her head, her chest rising and falling due to her heavy breathing. Maybe you were pulling the rope too tight, maybe not.

You shrugged, with an expression of not knowing what she meant. Playing with fire, that was the greatest of your hobbies.

“Are you nervous, my lady?” you said with a sensual tone, with a look that could easily melt the ice in your glasses.

“Don't call me...” Donna protested, gently hitting the table with her fists. “… My lady. You know I hate it.”

“Um...” you murmured, pretending to look away as you moved your top to give some air to your heated body, a sight that Donna didn't want to miss, but from which she immediately looked away, embarrassed and shifting nervously in the chair.  “Do you know what I hate?”

“No,” the lady in black responded, with a dry, abrupt tone, thus revealing her obvious discomfort.

“The beautiful women who cover their face,” you murmured, with that slight hope that her nervousness and your impudence would have an effect on the lady.

Donna growled, looking away for a moment. She seemed thoughtful and the room fell silent again under your watchful gaze.

“Yes, I meant you,” you commented amused, leaning back in the chair, rocking it carelessly. Donna shook her head, crossing her arms again.

“You are unbearable,” the lady whispered, bringing her trembling hands to her veil. You widened your eyes, not believing your stupid words had any effect. Maybe she felt something similar to what you felt, even if you still weren't sure exactly what it was.

Slowly, that horrible black veil disappeared from your vision, revealing a beauty far superior to what you imagined. Perfect features, a face destroyed by a horrible scar that you barely paid attention to. Donna was so much more than you expected.

Your smile reached your lips and your eyes reflected the visual pleasure of her hidden beauty, an unimaginable one, which made you seriously think about whether it was really lustful addiction, or love.

“Just what I thought,” you murmured, feigning disinterest.

“What?” she asked, making an attempt to cover herself again, something you prevented by reaching out your hand and gently grabbing her wrist.

“You're beautiful, Donna,” you whispered, keeping your gaze on that bright eye, full of insecurities and fear of your reaction.

“Don't you get tired of lying?” she asked with a brusque tone, breaking free from your grip and leaving the cloth on the table, with a look of panic that predicted an imminent nervous breakdown.

No, that wasn't going to happen while you were there.

“Show me that I'm not lying, come on... Smile,” you asked with a pleading look. Your fun attitude towards life was like a lifesaver in the middle of the ocean. You weren't safe, but at the same time you were.

Her reaction was immediate and the light of her smile reached your gaze.

“You see? What a beautiful smile you have...” you sighed, holding her hand again at her nervous look, at that smile that was twisted by your caresses on her skin.

After a few moments in which the tension was already overwhelming, she released herself from your grip, from your soft fingers, standing up from the chair.

“I think, I think I have stolen you too much time, (Y/N),” Donna murmured, looking at the floor, avoiding at all costs looking at your face, or your body. “You should go home.”

“Mm,” you murmured, nodding a bit disappointed, tilting your head toward the window, where the sun was shining tirelessly. “If I don't get roasted along the way...”

“Wait,” the lady interrupted, grabbing your wrist just as you grabbed your stuff. “Ma, maybe you want to take… A shower, you know, to cool off. I wouldn't want you to get sick.”

“Oh, it’s a good idea,” you said satisfied, pretending to think of an answer you already had.

Again, silence. You looked at the lady expectantly, and she discreetly looked at the corners of your body. Poor thing, she had perhaps forgotten she was no longer wearing the veil and you could see where her eye was going.

“Ahem,” you said, stamping your feet impatiently, startling Donna, who shook her head as if she were coming out of a fantasy.

A fantasy about you? Hopefully…

“Oh… What?” she stammered, confused.

You laughed, shaking your head.

“Tell me where the bathroom is. Or do you prefer to wash me by yourself?” you hissed with a purr, leaning into her ear. She laughed, gasping displeasure at your flippant comment.

“Come,” she said simply, turning around elegantly and leading you towards the stairs.

You walked slowly, taking a curious look at the portrait that adorned the wall. What a horrible picture. Donna was beautiful in person, just the way she was.

“Towels,” she pointed out once in the bathroom, handing you said objects abruptly. You nodded passively. “And, well, I suppose you know how a shower works.”

“No, normally I wait for it to rain to wash me,” you said sarcastically, leaving the towels in the sink and winking at her. She laughed nervously, looking away from you.

“You never take anything seriously...” Donna whispered, shaking her head.

You blinked mockingly and reached for your top, which fell off you with a gasp of relief. Donna gasped in surprise.

“What are you doing? Can't you wait for me to leave?” she asked offended, looking anywhere except your now exposed torso.

“Do you want to leave?” you asked, walking slowly towards her, running a hand over the exposed skin of your chest. “I think you are comfortable here.”

She shook her head, unable to stop her gaze from going straight to your glistening breasts, sighing nervously.

“(Y/N), no...” the lady protested when your steps got too close, when your gaze went down her body.

“Mm, how nervous you got, huh?” you purred, leaving subtlety aside, taking her trembling hand to run over your bare skin, something that, fortunately, she didn’t prevent, breathing with increasing difficulty.

“You make me nervous, (Y/N),” she murmured, closing her eye due to the closeness of your lips to hers.

You brushed against them, caressed them without kissing them, making Donna squirm in frustration. Your eyes opened to study her trembling, the closeness of her body to yours. A smile spread across your face as you saw a deformity at the bottom of her dress, a small bulge that betrayed her arousal.

“Well, well, well... You still keep a secret, huh?” you whispered, biting her ear to distract her from the caresses that went down her waist until you touched her erection with the palm of your hand, caressing it through the fabric “A big one…”

“Stop, I...” she protested, moving away from your libidinous touch, one that made her breathing even more complicated.

“You're sweating, Donna,” you murmured, not accepting her nervousness, her embarrassment. “Maybe you should take a shower too.”

She shook her head, covering the bulge of her dress with her hands, trying unsuccessfully to escape your gaze.

“I, I, I, I'll wait for you outside,” she said, turning to hide her blush, her excitement, all those things that you didn't think she could feel with you. You resist, shrugging your shoulders.

“As you wish, but there's room here for both of us,” you hummed, taking off your underwear, letting it fall to the floor as a challenge. Donna turned slightly to admire the sight in front of her and ran out of the room.

“Next time I won't make it so easy for you,” you hissed to yourself, turning on the faucet and feeling relief from the cool water that fell on your body.

As if you hadn't been about to do something so dangerous with a dangerous woman, you washed yourself calmly, humming songs you heard one day. At least until the bathroom door swung open and you frowned.

“Cazzo, (Y/N)...”  Donna gasped, getting rid of her shoes erratically while her hands undid the buttons on her dress.

“Have you forgotten something, my lady?” you asked amused, continuing to rub your body to tease her even more. Donna growled, quickly undressing and entering the shower next to you, pushing you against the wall.

“Shut up,” she ordered you nervously, just before grabbing your face in her hands and kissing you wildly, unexpectedly. You smiled, trying to tame those anxious, erratic kisses, trying to grab her waist, rubbing yourself against her body under the cool water of the shower.

Everything happened so fast that you didn't even stop to think about your victory, the one that you matured for months, that you worked on in subtle and not so subtle ways until the brunette's defenses collapsed at the sight of your body damaged by the heat.

The kisses were tireless, the kisses traveled to every possible corner. There was nothing but you and Donna in that small shower, nothing but a simmering burning desire, one that tasted better than the most delicious of delicacies.

The caresses, although they were naughty, were also dedicated to exploring every part of Donna's body, a body always hidden by a black as dark as the night, like a veil that extended beyond the one that covered the beauty of her smile.

The gasps were camouflaged with the sound of the water rushing against the floor, the humidity of the cold water joined with your saliva mixed in those burning kisses, in the sighs, in the gasps, in the moans that came when her hips brushed yours, impatiently.

“Turn around and lean,” the doll maker ordered you, with a firm voice that showed the authority of a village Lord.

Had you been playing with her so much that she had lost her usual elegance and delicacy? It didn't surprise you, nor did you care, you just wanted to have her, her to have you. At that moment you just wanted to be for her, you just wanted to exist for her.

With a mischievous laugh and a defiant look, you obeyed, leaning over the tiles. It didn't take long for Donna to move, standing behind you, hugging your body, your breasts, rubbing, feeling, squeezing every part she could touch, every inch that now belonged to her.

“Please, my lady...” you said, biting your lip, bringing her hips closer to yours, rubbing her erect shaft, eager to explore your wetness.

“Don't call me...” she growled, giving you an unexpected hair pull as she discreetly fulfilled your wishes, entering you with a gentle movement, letting your body adapt to her size. “… My lady.”

“As you wish, my lady,” you teased, moaning at the feeling of her shaft running through your wetness, sliding between your walls without any difficulty. Donna laughed in annoyance, moving abruptly, probably as punishment for your audacity.

“You don't learn, do you?” she said, when your walls stretched enough to allow a constant rhythm, a wave of pleasure that your body accepted willingly, compensating you for all those nights when you imagined something like this.

You shook your head as you moaned at those perfectly calculated movements, at the feeling of her nails digging into your hips while hers moved rhythmically, stopping just when you needed it most.

Donna also stopped talking, replacing the words, the soft reprimands with tremendously sensual moans, discreet but eager, almost as much as her erection inside your body, wanting to touch every inch of your depths, wanting to mix with your overflowing moisture.

It was frenetic, terribly erotic and sensual. Nothing like what you had experienced before. You couldn't tell if those new sensations were purely due to sex.

Maybe in your life you were never so lucky to make love with someone for that very reason, for love. Yes, it was time to recognize the evidence. You were crazy about Donna. The question was: was she crazy about you? Her body said she was.

“Donna...” you said, with the sound of the water camouflaging your voice, not enough for the brunette to lower the intensity of her thrusts and moans, stopping digging her nails into your skin to gently caress your back, making that those little cramps you were beginning to feel to became more and more intense.

A moan was her response, while her hips resumed their movements so as not to lose the pleasant sensation of being inside of you, of sliding over your body as if it were hers. Certainly, it already was.

“(Y/N)... Sto per venire…” she whispered, changing that constant rhythm for a more erratic, more intense one, which made you close your eyes and let her hands hold your body while you let yourself be carried away by the sensations that, for you, were already enough for you to release.

“Fuck, yes!” you moaned when your orgasm finally made its way through your body, making your walls dance around her, thus causing her own release, which made a humid, burning heat contrast poetically with the cold water.

The water now only muffled your nervous breathing. Your body relaxed as Donna pulled out of you, making that obscene heat run down your leg, joining the water that ended its way into the drain.

Slowly, you turned around, kissing the brunette without giving her a second to breathe, hanging on to her body, caressing her cheeks, her waist, everything you could and your body allowed after the ecstasy.

“(Y/N)... I know I can be a… Killjoy… But, but… I'm in love with you,” she told you, moving away from your tireless kisses for a moment.

“I think that's pretty obvious,” you joked, making the lady shake her head, with a tired sigh.

“No, it is not. I'm not a woman who just wants to... Have a good time,” she explained, turning off the shower so you could hear her voice clearly.

“Well, we had a good time,” you continued joking, hanging on to her neck.

Donna rolled her eye with a tired sigh.

“If you don't feel the same, I want you to tell me,” she said with a more serious tone, cupping your face in her hands, implying that this was not the time to joke. It never was.

“Donna, I'm crazy about you.”

[1ovewoo]

PLEASEEEEE DO A SCENARIO OF THIS

finishing a office/group hangout because yunho and y/n cannot wait any longer to keep their hands off of each other so they quickly went home

and went on a crazy passionate (yunho dom with a sir kink) SMUT because y/n was becoming bratty and teasing in the car while he was driving

tysm for sending me this request!! i'm so sorry it took me this long to respond, the past couple weeks have been a bit hectic and then i just lost all steam abt a third of a way through writing this</3 but i loved the idea and wanted to finish it so i pushed through, i hope the ending doesnt seem too rushed and that you like this!!

cw/tags: fem reader, alcohol consumption (they aren't drunk), car sex kinda, masturbation (f), oral (m receiving), face fucking, dirty talk, a lot of pet names, sir kink, rough sex, spanking

a giggle escapes your lips as yunho’s hand slides higher up your thigh, his mouth nearly pressed against your ear as he whispers filthy things to you, his other arm wrapped around your shoulder and twirling the ends of your hair. the two of you were completely in your own world, so wrapped up in each other that you don’t even notice the playfully disgusted or annoyed expressions of your friends who are sitting around the table at the bar your group frequented.

all night, you and yunho had barely been able to keep your hands off each other; you could chalk it up to the alcohol in your systems or the fact you were simply in love, but it didn’t really matter either way. 

what mattered was you needed to get out of here before you started begging yunho to fuck you over the table in front of everyone.

(that line of thought can be saved for later.)

noticing the glazed over look in your eyes, yunho grins and turns to your friends, saying, “well, i think it’s time we head out. y/n here is pretty tired.”

the rest of the group either ignore you altogether or chuckle and roll their eyes, waving goodbye as yunho throws his arm around your shoulder and leads you out to the parking lot, opening the passenger door for you like the gentleman he is before walking around to climb into the driver’s seat. 

the first minute or so of the drive is relatively peaceful, soft r&b playing through the speakers, but you start to feel antsy.

“yunho…” you whine, reaching for his hand which rests over the stick shift and pulling it into your lap.

“yes, love?” he hums, keeping his eyes on the road.

“need you now,” you grumble, tugging at his arm to try and get him to touch you where you want.

“i know, sweetheart, but we’ll be home soon, and then i’ll fuck you how you need,” yunho answers, soothingly stroking your thigh with his thumb before pulling his hand away to shift gears as he approaches a stoplight.

you sigh overdramatically at being brushed off and decide to take matters into your own hands, hitching your short dress up over your hips and slipping a hand into your panties, letting out a small gasp as your fingers make contact with your throbbing clit, dipping lower to gather some of your essence and spread it up your slit to ease the way. 

from the corner of your eye, you can see yunho glancing over at you, eyes drooping down to follow the motion of your fingers as you touch yourself, but he doesn’t say a word, doesn’t immediately pull the car over so he can fuck your brains out in the backseat, so you keep going.

slowly, you slide one finger and then two into your aching cunt, beginning to thrust and curl them, forcing breathy moans and whines out of your lips as your other hand comes up to grip your breast over the thing material of your dress. you lift one of your feet onto the dash to spread yourself wider and allow yourself more room to fuck yourself, head lolling to the side to look at yunho.

his breathing has gotten noticeably heavier over the past few minutes and his knuckles are white where they’re wrapped around the steering wheel. glancing down, you also notice the bulge in his tight leather pants and you can’t help but grin.

“yuyu, feels so good,” you moan, eyelids fluttering as you pound into your sweet spot and let your other hand slip down to play with your slippery clit, “want your cock so bad, please..”

the car comes to a rough stop at a stop sign only a few blocks from your apartment and yunho’s hand darts out towards you, roughly grabbing your jaw and pulling you into a harsh kiss, biting at your lip and sliding his tongue over your teeth and the roof of your mouth before pulling away as quickly as he came.

“you little slut,” he breathes, voice low and condescending, “can’t even wait fifteen minutes until we get home? you need my cock in your tight little hole that badly? i thought you were my good girl?”

“i am, sir,” you pout, cheeks still squished together in yunho’s grip, “‘m always your good girl.”

“tch,” yunho scoffs, shoving your face away and stepping on the gas again, eager to get home as soon as possible, “that’s a good one, seeing as you’ve been acting like a total brat the whole car ride.”

in the midst of yunho manhandling you, your fingers had come to a halt inside you and now you slip them out to tease your clit as you keep pouting, looking out the window as your neighborhood passes by and yunho eventually parks the car in front of your place.

he gets out of the car without a word and you struggle to pull your dress back down and cover yourself appropriately before climbing out as well, darting around to grab yunho’s hand and hold his arm as you walk together into your apartment building, neither of you saying a word.

the playful atmosphere from the bar earlier is long gone but you can’t say you’re too upset about it, you did love to tease and rile yunho up so he’d be a little rough with you. in your everyday sex lives, the two of you didn’t have any kind of strong dynamics you typically adhered to, but every now and then you liked to act out and bring out yunho’s more dominant side.

now, the pair of you step into the empty elevator and you hit the button for your floor. before the doors are even closed all the way, yunho has your back against the wall as his lips collide with yours, one arm sliding around your waist to grab at your ass and pull your body flush against his. you can’t help but moan into his mouth as you throw your arms around his neck, rising up onto your toes as you enthusiastically return the kiss, feeling dizzy from the way it feels like he’s consuming you, lips and tongue overpowering your own and leaving you pulling away to gasp for air after a few moments.

you two stare into each other’s eyes as you catch your breath, the tension palpable in the confined space you’re in, until the elevator dings, catching your attention and yunho pulls away, letting you adjust your clothes as he guides you down the hallway to your home, hand never leaving the small of your back.

You pull your keys out of your purse with shaky hands and it takes you a couple times to get the key into the lock, but finally you manage and you enter your dim apartment, yunho closing and relocking the door behind you. 

you barely had time to slip off your shoes before yunho’s voice cuts through the silence, making you jump a little when he says, “on your knees.”

you look back at him in shock, but then quickly move to comply, kneeling right there in the entryway and glancing up at your boyfriend through your lashes, waiting for his next command. 

he cards a hand through your hair while using the other one to shove his pants and boxers down just enough to free himself, hard cock springing up against his lower abdomen, and asks in a faux-sweet voice, “now, darling, what was it that you were so desperate for in the car?”

your eyelids flutter, glancing at the cock dangling in front of your face before looking back up at yunho’s face, gulping and answering, “your cock, sir.”

yunho hums in approval, guiding your head closer to tap the head of his dick against your lips, chuckling when your mouth instantly drops open to let him rest on your tongue.

“two taps if you need to me stop,” yunho softly reminds you, and you nod your head, assuring him you remember.

and with that, yunho shoves his cock into the wet heat of your mouth, burying himself to the hilt, his tip hitting the back of your throat and making you gag, breathing heavily through your nose and blinking tears from your eyes.

he quickly builds up a rhythm fucking your mouth, the filthy sounds of you gagging and swallowing around his cock filling the open space of your apartment.

“fuck, you always take me so well, yeah? just need a fat cock in your mouth to keep you happy?” yunho groans, head thrown back in pleasure.

jerking your head back by your hair to pull you off his cock, yunho gives you a chance to gasp in a few deep breaths, shuddering at the string of saliva keeping your lips and yunho’s dick connected before you break it with your tongue, licking the salt of your sweat and tears from your upper lip. your pussy is absolutely throbbing and you press your thighs together, rocking your hips a little as you try to find a little relief. 

“is my y/n ready to be a good girl for me?” yunho caresses your cheek and you lean into it, his thumb stroking to wipe away your tears.

“yes, sir…please fuck me, i’ll be your good girl please,” you plead, batting your eyelashes up at him.

yunho groans and grabs you by the arm, hauling you up and dragging you over to the couch where he pushes you down to bend over the arm. he shoves your skirt up over your hips and yanks your panties down, chuckling at your juices smearing down your thighs as he does so. 

he slides three fingers into you easily, scissoring his fingers and meeting barely any resistance.

“please,” you whimper, pushing your hips back into his hand.

finally, the feeling of yunho’s fingers disappear and is replaced with the blunt tip of his cock sliding through your wet folds. 

in one smooth thrust, yunho bottoms out and without even giving you a moment to adjust, he begins driving into you in rough thrusts, punching moans out of you each time. drool slides past your lips and drips onto the couch, pooling on the cushion below your head.

yunho’s hands slide down your waist to grab at your hips, pulling you back into him with each thrust, throwing his head back in pleasure as the sounds of skin slapping fill your apartment.

you jump when you feel yunho’s right hand collide with your ass with a loud smack, more moans slipping out of you as he rubs at the red skin there. 

“yuyu, can i come?” you plead, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten.

“hmm?” yunho teases, pretending not to have heard you while his hand slides around to your front and he circles his fingers around your clit.

you gasp, rocking back and forth between yunho’s cock and his fingers, squeezing your eyes shut, voice strained as you say, “please, sir, need to come, oh my god.”

“go ahead, love,” yunho bends over you to whisper in your ear, and that’s all it takes for your orgasm to wash over you like a tidal wave, yunho’s fingers and his hips never losing their rhythm as he helps you through your high.

a few thrusts later and yunho comes as well, burying himself deep inside you and groaning as rope after rope of cum spurts into you, warming your insides. you moan weakly in overstimulation but say nothing, enjoying the feeling of him filling you up.

once yunho’s high has passed, he pulls out, helping you stand and wrapping you up in his arms. he smooths your hair back off of your damp forehead and peppers kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

“you’re insatiable,” yunho mumbles against the skin of your cheek.

“but you like me that way,” you grin at him and he can’t help but smile back, knowing that it’s true.

ty for reading! if you enjoyed this and would like to support my works please consider reblogging or checking out my masterlist!

© 1ovewoo 2023

[yujeong]

I am deeply fascinated by White's fear.

I have no idea whatsoever why this boy believes he's dirty/filthy, or why he thinks Tee specifically would view him that way. The show has given us all but mere glimpses of his POV and none have managed to give me a concrete reason for it. But this is what makes it so interesting. Even with only 1 episode left, the writers can do wonders with this. Throughout the show, but especially in Ep11, we see White being pretty open about his attraction/love to Tee. He's the one who pursued him, who flirted with him, who went to visit him at his job everyday, who tutored him, who *kissed* him. Is this why he feels that way? It can't be, right? The boy is doing all this in public, it's not shame for his sexuality that's the issue. So, the other conclusion is that it's about sex. It makes him feel dirty, it makes him feel that *Tee* himself views him as dirty, even though he loves White and he loves having sex with White, something I'm sure White himself knows as well. Going back to Ep1, we do get some indication about White's fear, though it could be just me grasping at straws here:

1) During the first TeeWhite scene we got, White gets a hallucination of the masked murderer standing in the woods, watching them, while he's making out with Tee. He stops and says this:

Tee dismisses White's worries, saying everyone's inside the house so there's nobody to watch them, and White does this face:

and needs a few seconds to get back into it after they start kissing again. 2) When they return to the others and Top asks them if they had sex, White's reaction is this:

and later, when Top asks if he could participate too, White's reaction is this:

White doesn't really show evident discomfort, but he doesn't show indifference either. The main argument in favor of that is the fact that he appeared in front of others like this:

and after Top's comments, he is now like this:

He fixed his T-shirt in order for it to be tucked away in his pants, something he didn't even intend to do before Top's comments. He became self-conscious. 3) When the gang go to the CCTV room to find out where Por has gone, they stumble upon the TeeWhite scene of them kissing on the balcony. White's reaction is this:

which is followed, by this:

and then, by this:

White looks incredibly out of his depth and ashamed, mainly due to Top's attitude which is why he glances at his direction more than once. It's the most evident example we get in the series. Also, I find Tee's words here interesting. He says "My little one will cry, change the camera", meaning he knows other people knowing more about their sex life makes White feel embarrassed. Just a small detail that makes me curious. I believe it's due to example 3 that White gets this hallucination later in Ep2:

My main reason for this is the position. As many people have pointed out, it's at the place Tee mostly kissed him: his neck, spreading over his shoulder. All in all, I refuse to believe White is simply vain, especially since it's such a big fear of his that he has hallucinations about Tee feeling disgusted with him. It all just leaves me so puzzled. Just... White. Who are you?

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

(Aladdin AU)

*Alastor the chief advisor of Queen Sera waited for a pimp named Valentino to meet him, standing by Alastor was his assistant Vox, a man who had the ability to hypnotize people which Alastor used to hypnotize the Queen, thankfully Valentino arrived*

Alastor: You are late.

Valentino: A thousand apologies Lord Alastor.

*Valentino bowed and Vox glared at the slimy pimp in disgust*

Valentino: Is this the cave?

*the men men stood in front of a cave that was shaped like a tiger’s head, it made Alastor think of Prince Adam’s beloved pet tiger Lute who would bite anyone who made the young man uncomfortable*

Vox: This is the Cave of Wonders.

Cave of Wonders: Who disturbs my slumber.

Valentino: It is, Valentino.

Cave of Wonders: Only one may enter here, the Diamond in the Rough.

Alastor: What are you waiting for? Go on.

*Valentino slowly approached the cave and when he stepped in the mouth closed crushing Valentino leaving blood and guts everywhere*

Vox: Great, another failure.

Cave of Wonders: Seek me out the Diamond in the Rough.

*the royal guards chased a short blonde young man clutching a loaf of bread with a slightly younger woman running alongside him, they were Lucifer and Charlie, a brother and sister who had to steal to survive*

Lucifer: All this for a loaf of bread.

Captain of the Guards: I will have your hands for a trophy.

*Lucifer ran until he found Rosie, a woman who was friends with their mother, who pulled them into her home until the guards went away, when they Lucifer and Charlie left they sat down while Lucifer tore the bread in half so he could share it with Charlie, but they saw a pair of homeless children who needed food more than either of them did*

Lucifer: You can have this.

*Lucifer handed his half of the bread to the older child*

Charlie: You can have mine too.

*Charlie handed her half of the bread to the younger child, it was another night without food, but the children being fed was more important, Lucifer saw a crowd gathering, it was a princess named Lilith riding into the city seeking the hand of Sera’s beloved son and Prince Adam in marriage*

Guy #1: Another Princess for Prince Adam to reject.

Guy #2: Why doesn't he just pick someone?

Lucifer sighed, Adam was the Prince Heaven, Queen Sera's only child after her husband the King passed away when Adam was still in diapers.

The children from before ran out into the street.

Lilith: Ugh! You little brats!

She went to whip them and Lucifer ran out and took the whip to his arm.

Lucifer: If I were as rich as you, I would be able to afford some manners.

Lilith: Out of my way!

She kicked him into the mud.

Lucifer: Look Charlie! It's not every day you see a horse with two asses!

Everyone laughed.

Lilith glared: You're nothing but a filthy street rat. You'll die a street rat and only your flees will mourn you!

The palace gates closed as Lucifer charged them.

Lucifer: I don't have flees..... Bitch. I hope Prince Adam rejects you.

-

A few hours later and Princess Lilith was storming out of the room.

Lilith: GOOD LUCK MARRYING HIM OFF!!

Sera: Leaving so ...... Soon?

Lilith had some of her dress missing as she stormed out.

Sera: Adam.....

Adam was sitting by the pond with his pet tiger Lute.

Sera: Adam! Adam! Oh confound it Lute!

Adam: Oh Lute was only playing with that spoiled princess Lilith. Weren't you girl? Hehehe.

Sera did not look impressed.

Sera: Adam my dear, you know the law, you have to get married-

Adam: To someone of royal statues I know. But mom if I do get married one day I want it to be for love.

[cowpokeomens]

Blood Pact

It's me, your favorite monster fucker! Here's another part of my Nocturnal Creatures series, in which you strike a deal with a demon- who goes by Nicholas. Sexy things ensue.

Warnings: Disgusting nasty filthy p-in-v, cunnilingus, lots of mentions of virginity (it's a social construct, but if you got it, flaunt it), Nicholas Ruffilo's monster cock (canon), if you feel I need to add anything PLEASE send me a message! Otherwise, enjoy!

________________________________________________________

You still couldn’t believe you were doing this. 

Yet, here you stood, at a crossroads in your hometown. Not just the metaphorical kind, either- an actual, physical crossroads. Mason Avenue and Fisher Street, to be exact. 

Right next to the city cemetery, from which you stole a jar’s worth of dirt.

It sat in your bag, next to some kind of flowering plant you hoped would work, a cat bone (thank goodness for veterinarian friends?), and a picture of yourself, one of the headshots your manager had insisted would help you blow up on TikTok. 

It hadn’t.

You threw everything into a cardboard box, using your shiny, new shovel from the local feed supply store to dig a hole in the center of the dusty dirty roads. The ground was harder than you expected, so your two-foot deep hole had you sweating by the time it was formed. You all but threw the box into the hole, quickly covering it up with loose dirt, and taking a few steps back. Pulling out your phone, you consulted the symbol you saved from a website earlier that week, spray paint in hand. All the stupid Wal-Mart had left was “Cerise Fluorescent,” so you hoped whatever you summoned liked pink. 

Carefully, you sprayed the lines onto the dirt, over where you buried your box. You tried to move quickly, but precisely; Getting caught was almost as terrifying as doing it wrong.

Finally, it was done. You scrolled over on your phone, to the Latin text you hadn’t even dared to read in your head. Stepping away from the circle, you read it aloud now. You could feel your heart about to beat out of your chest, and you wondered one last time if this was worth it. 

“Your Latin sucks.” A voice said suddenly.

You jumped, yelping, and fell directly on your ass.

You were scrambling back when the voice spoke again. 

“Is this a Goetia sigil? In pink? The guys are going to get a kick out of this-”

You stood up shakily, dusting off your pants in the process. You finally saw the source of the voice: Standing in the center of your sigil was the most devastatingly handsome man you had ever seen. 

Long, dark hair; his skin was lightly tanned and healthy-looking. Eyes the color of clouds, that seemed to shift from green to blue to grey before you. He was taller than you, tattoos visible on both hands, and dressed simply: A hoodie, dark jeans, and…

Were those Converse?

You were immediately overcome with confusion. “Um, who are you?”

He fixed those eyes directly on you. “I think that’s my line, doll.”

Your eyebrows shot up into your hairline. “You’re Amdusias?”

He winced. “Yikes, with the Scary-Latin-Demon-Name. You can call me Nicholas.”

You frowned. “You don’t seem like…”

“Like a great duke of Hell?” He finished your thought. “Yeah, only angels really like to make a dramatic entrance, that’s why they’ve been banned to stay behind the pearly bars. Too many eyes, too much fire-”

“You’re wearing sneakers?” You said without thought.

He looked offended. “Did you expect me to crawl out of Hell in loafers?”

You scrambled for an answer. “Well, no, but I-”

“TV is rotting your mind. What do you want?” He cut you off.

You felt the color leaving your face. “Well, um, I read that you were responsible for the music in Hell-”

“‘Music’ is a big word, but sure.” He interrupted.

Giving him a look, you continued. “Well, I’m a musician, too! Only…” You trailed off with a frown.

He mocked you with a faux-wince. “Ooh, not triple platinum yet, huh?”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to hide your disappointment. Shaking your head, your gaze met his again. “That’s where you come in.”

An eyebrow cocked at you. “Think that because you snagged a demon, you get to be famous?”

You shook your head hastily. “No, not at all! I did a lot of research-” You Googled for 30 minutes- “So I don’t get to demand things without a trade, right?” 

He smiled at you lazily. “Yep. So what will it be, your soul? First born? I love a first born, with a little bit of butter, some rosemary and-”

“I’m a virgin.” You blurted. 

He froze, then his entire demeanor changed. For the first time that night, you felt genuine fear as the air around you went still. “Oh yeah?”

Your mouth gaped like a fish, so you settled on a nod.

He took a tiny step towards you. You were rooted on the spot, frozen like a deer in headlights. This was a bad idea. 

Finally, you found your words. “My virginity. For- whatever it is you do. Fame, fortune, I don’t really care, I just want people to hear my music, connect with it-”

“Yeah, yeah, real noble of you.” He snorted, then composed himself. For a second, he almost looked concerned. “You sure about this, doll?”

You nodded, trying to look confident. “Yeah. But- make it organic, y’know, the fame part. I don’t want to look like an industry plant-”

He rolled his eyes, walking closer so that he was directly in front of you. You gaped at his proximity. “You can leave the circle?”

Laughing, he nodded. “I could have left at any point, but you’re pretty-” He leaned in so that he was whispering in your ear, “-For a pathetic little human.”

Your cheeks went hot. You knew it was just to rile you up, make this worse than it already was. At least, you figured, your virginity meant something to someone- it certainly held no value for you. A demon was less than desirable, but he was nice to look at- 

Woah. Not going there, you told yourself sternly. 

Shaking off the feeling, you held out your hand. “Okay, so deal-”

“Uh, no.” He cut you off, again. “I have my own terms and conditions.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

A smirk grew on his face. “My terms. For our arrangement.”

You tried not to let anger well up inside you. “And what would those terms be?” You asked through gritted teeth. 

“You come to me.” He said plainly. Confusion must have been evident on your face, because he continued, “I’m not some monster in the night who’s going to show up for your virginity. When the time is right, you’ll come to me.”

“You’re not going to just… Take it?” The question slowly left your mouth.

He grimaced, an ugly look for such a pretty face. “Ew, no. I’m a demon, not a wild animal. Besides,” he cocked his head to the side, looking directly into you. “Virginity tastes better when it comes willingly.” 

Gulping despite yourself, you managed a nod. “Okay. Fine. I’ll come willingly.” As if. 

Holding out an inked hand, he grinned at you. “Then it’s a deal.”

Taking a deep breath, you took his hand in yours, shaking once. “Deal.”

_________________________________________________________

Six Months Later 

You awoke in a cold sweat, the third time that week. Flicking the bedside lamp on, you walked over to the mini-fridge of your hotel room, grabbing a bottle of water. You were uncomfortably wet- again, and not from sweating. It seemed like every time you tried to rest, you were met by stormy eyes where sleep should have greeted you. You chugged the water, making your way to the restroom for a much-needed shower. 

That night’s show had been sold out- the 13th sold out show of your highly anticipated debut tour. Nicholas had held up his end of the bargain; Your album was projected to sell close to a million units by the end of the year. And you had seen neither hide nor hair of him. 

Well. Not in the flesh, anyways.

As you started the shower, your mind wandered. You knew it was him, sending you these dreams through his weird demon dream channels or whatever. Even as your body betrayed you, you knew it was not your own thoughts causing such a commotion. 

Still, as you slipped in the shower to wash off the day’s grime, you felt your hand slip lower, between your folds to collect the wetness there. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you circled your bundle of nerves, moaning quietly. Despite your best efforts, your thoughts drifted back to long, dark hair and tattooed hands on your body. Your hand moved quicker, moans growing louder as you felt yourself getting closer to climax. You were on the precipice when a familiar voice made you freeze.

“I knew you’d be loud.” 

Yelping, you jumped nearly a foot in the air, almost falling in your panic. Yanking your towel off the rack, you wrapped yourself as quickly as possible as you threw open the shower curtain. 

Nicholas was sitting criss-cross on the expansive bathroom counter, picking at something under his nails. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You snapped.

“You summoned me, duh.” He said, rolling his eyes at you. 

“Yeah, six months ago. I thought I was supposed to come to you.”

He looked at you then, eyes dragging over your poorly-concealed form. His eyes glinted, looking hungry. “Moaning the name of a demon you promised your virginity to while you rub one out in the shower is a summoning if I’ve ever seen one. Besides,” He looked into your eyes, smirking devilishly. “You were about to come to me, from the sound of it.”

Your face was on fire with embarrassment. “I was not moaning your name.”

He cocked a brow at you. “Uh, you were. Loudly.” 

Rage bubbled up inside you. “I was not!” The words spilled from you now. “I wouldn’t have even been doing that if you hadn’t been sending me all of your weird demonic sex dreams constantly!”

An unnamed emotion flashed across his face, then he grinned. “‘Weird demonic sex dreams,’ huh?”

You huffed at him “Oh, don’t even play coy. Like being dragged back to Hell and tied up by some hot shot demon was my big idea.”

The smile he was giving you was sinister. “Right, right. What else have I sent your way?”

You faltered, unsure of what he was playing at. “Like you don’t know.” 

He shrugged. “I don’t. I haven’t ‘sent you’ shit.” He mimed quotations with his hands. 

Your blood went cold. Suddenly, the bathroom was too small. “You’re lying.” Your voice sounded feeble, even to you.

He shook his head, standing up. Slowly he stepped towards you. “I’m not.”

“But then- that would mean-” Stammering, you stood there helplessly as he crept closer. 

Nodding, he leaned in even closer. “That was all you, doll.” He brushed a stray lock of hair off your shoulder. “What a dirty mind the little human virgin has. You mentioned being tied up- what else did I do to defile you, huh?” 

He was too close, it almost made you dizzy. He smelled like smoke and rain and earth all at once. “Shut up.” You mumbled weakly.

He stepped back, finally. “Well, you know how to find me.” 

There was a crack like lightning, then he was gone. 

You stood there for a few minutes, trying to regain your composure. This was fine, you reasoned. He left. He kept his word. Everything was fine. 

______________________________________________________

Three Months Later

Once again, you couldn’t believe you were doing this. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed in your master bedroom, you gazed out the windows overlooking the city below. You remembered when you first bought the condo- loved how open and light it was. In the deepness of the night surrounding you, the lights looked like tiny fires dancing in the dark. 

Taking a deep breath, you laid down on your pillows, trying to relax your body. Running a hand over the t-shirt on your abdomen, up to your breasts, you felt your breathing start to slow. Your nipples were quick to perk up at the stimulation, so you pinched one experimentally, almost moaning out at the sensation.

Your nerves were on fire these days. The slightest brush against your skin made you feverish. You tried everything, from quitting cold turkey to bringing yourself to climax three or four times a day. Nothing was working. 

So maybe this would. 

You snaked your hand lower, falling into familiar routine. You had come to know your body well the last three months, knew exactly where to rub, where to pinch. As you toyed with your folds through your underwear, you imagined a different set of hands, larger and covered in ink. Unlike the other times, you allowed your fantasy to overtake you, gave yourself to it willingly. 

“Nicholas.” You breathed, back arching ever so slightly.

There was a slight breeze, then a quiet gasp. 

“Quite the show you’re putting on, doll. I suppose you didn’t say my name this time, either?” 

You pulled your hand away from your core, scrambling to stand up. “No, I- I did.”

Nicholas’ face looked shocked for a millisecond, then an eyebrow was raised at you. “Oh?”

“I’m… I’m ready.” It didn’t sound convincing. 

He scoffed. “Yeah, no thanks. Like I said, I’m not interested in forcing anyone-”

“Goddamnit, shut up.” You snapped. “I said I’m ready, okay? You said to come to you, so here I am. Unless you never planned on following through with it.” It was dangerous to goad him, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

His eyes were pitch black in an instant, staring you down. “Don’t joke about a demon’s word, doll. You’re not ready for that fight.”

Your hands shook, but you felt-

Mortification overcame you as you realized just what you felt. 

Those dark eyes narrowed in on the single bead of slick that was rolling steadily down your leg. Cloud-grey eyes returned as realization dawned on him.

“You want me to debase you.” He took a step towards you as his words filled the room. “You want me to tie you up and have my way with you. Isn’t that right?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to admit the truth, but it was evident. 

He inhaled deeply, taking another step towards you. His eyes fluttered shut as he exhaled slowly. “You smell ripe. You want this so badly, poor thing- you just can’t admit it to yourself.”

You pressed your legs together, trying to maintain some kind of decency.

He was in front of you now, close enough to touch if you were braver. “Beg for it. Beg, and I’ll give you anything you want, doll.”

Chest heaving with labored breaths, you gave in. “Please.” You whispered.

His hand- the hands you had been dreaming about for nine months- came up to grip your jaw. “I said beg.”

You crumbled. “Please, Nicholas, please, I’ll be so good-”

His grin was minatory as he brought his lips down to yours. 

Your relief was immediate as you sagged into him, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to support you. He walked you backwards toward the bed, still kissing you furiously. 

“How wet are you already, doll? I bet your little cunt is just soaked.” Breaking the kiss, he picked you up and set you on the bed, lowering himself onto his knees in front of you. “Tell me what you want.”

You panted, unable to form a sentence for a moment. “I don’t- I don’t know.”

He made a tsk-tsk sound with his tongue against his teeth. “Right, you’re just a helpless little virgin who hasn’t spent the last 9 months having vivid dreams about me fucking her.” He looked up at you through his lashes. “Tell me what you dreamed about.”

“Your hands.” You heard yourself say immediately. 

He smirked again. “Oh yeah? What were my hands doing?”

You knew your face was crimson. “They… They were touching me.”

“Where?” The look he was giving you was too intense for you to maintain more than a few seconds.

“Um-” You hesitated. 

“You can say it.” He urged, leaning in.

“My… my pussy.” You finished, staring at the ground.

“Do you want me to play with your pussy now?” He was still staring at you.

“Please.” You breathed, anticipation making your entire body tense. 

“Good girl, so polite.” As you shivered at the praise, his eyes made their way down your body, to where your core was at eye-level for him. “If you want to stop, say so, is that clear?”

You nodded. “Yes, sir.” 

Something dark flashed in his face, then he said, “Good girl.” 

His hand came up to run a single digit along your slit, through your underwear. You shook involuntarily at the contact. 

“Oh doll, you’re starved, aren’t you?” He murmured, almost to himself. “Let’s get these ruined panties off of you.” 

You went to shift your weight so that you could shimmy the garment off, only to freeze as Nicholas tore through it like a piece of paper. 

He didn’t even look apologetic. “Hope you didn’t like those too much.”

You didn’t have time to consider it as you realized your cunt was fully visible to him now, slick with your own juices. 

He sighed as he stared at your core. “Women are the best thing that bastard ever accomplished.” Then he looked up at you. “I’m gonna use my mouth, that okay, doll?”

“Yes, sir.” Your voice was hoarse from disuse. You felt like you were vibrating in your skin. 

He leaned in slowly, as if to not startle you, before running his tongue from your hole to your clit.

The moan you let out was guttural and animalistic. 

“There it is.” He said quietly, before diving back into you. 

Your head fell back onto the mattress as he lapped at your clit, tongue occasionally diving into your hole. Tears welled up in your eyes at the relief it brought, like jumping into a pool on a hot summer day. Your hands tangled in his long tresses, and he moaned against your pussy. Your hips were bucking into him involuntarily, your orgasm so close you could practically taste it. “Nicholas, I’m gonna- I’m so close-” You practically sobbed. 

“Shh, I know, doll. Let it happen.” He said soothingly before going back to his ministrations. You came with a primal moan, back arching off of your sheets. 

 You were still panting when he stood up, surveying you. “All better?”

“Fuck me.” You demanded. 

His expression went stoney. He leaned over until you were caged in by his arms on either side of you. “I don’t fuck demanding brats.”

You lost all your bravado. “Please?”

He sighed softly, but not sincerely. “How bad do you want it?”

You could have cried. “Please, I’m sorry Nicholas, I’ll be good, please fuck me- you don’t know how bad I need it-”

“I just had your greedy little unused hole grinding against my tonsils.” He sneered. “I know exactly how bad you need it.”

Your face went hot at the profane nature of his words- but he was right. He saw firsthand how bad you needed this. “Please.” Was all you said. 

“Well, I guess since you’re asking so nicely.” He mocked as he stepped back, unbuckling his pants as he went. He slid off the trousers, his erection visible through his briefs. You suddenly felt nervous, looking at the size of him. 

He stopped, seeing your expression. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just- is it gonna fit?”

He pulled the briefs down at last, finally freeing his cock. It was big- even by supernatural proportions. The tip was an angry shade of red, veins pulsating on the shaft. He huffed a laugh at your face, pulling his shirt off, too. “I bet we can find room.”

Your eyes devoured the tattoos that covered him, tracing the planes of his body as you went. You almost didn’t notice him slinking over to you, crawling onto the mattress in one, fluid motion, landing on top of you. 

“I’m gonna touch you again, okay?” He looked at you expectantly. 

You nodded. “Okay.”

He leaned down to kiss you again, tongue sliding against yours. You whimpered when his fingers were back on your pussy, running along the folds. As you adjusted to his touch, two fingers slipped inside your hole.

“Fuck you’re still so wet,” He muttered, rocking his fingers back and forth inside you. You gasped at the sensation, his fingers so much larger than your own. Moving his mouth down to your neck, he began scissoring his fingers, stretching you out- a preparation you were thankful for.

You felt your second orgasm approaching as he continued his movements, moans growing higher pitched. “Nicholas, I-”

“Think you can hold on?” He asked. It was a genuine question, you knew whatever answer you gave would be correct. 

You considered it for a second. “Yeah, I can- I can wait.” Your legs were still beginning to tremble, though. 

He placed a kiss on your temple, pulling his fingers out. “I’ll go slow, but we can stop if you want to.”

You nodded an affirmative. He stared at you blankly, and you remembered yourself. “Yes, sir.” He tapped your nose, a gesture that was oddly sweet, as he said “Good girl.”

You felt him line up with your entrance, the tip slowly sliding in. It was still a stretch- but you found that you liked it, liked the feeling of being filled up. He went slowly, thrusting shallowly, each time going a little deeper. You could hear the noises you were making, but couldn’t stop yourself from making them. He paused three-fourths of the way in. 

“Doing okay?”

“Yes Nicholas, please don’t stop.” Came your gargled reply.

He smirked, thrusting a few more times until he was fully sheathed in you.

Your back arched clear off the bed as he bottomed out, his tip nestled against something inside you that made you feel feral.

“Like that, doll?” You could hear how smug he was.

“Please, Nicholas, please-” You whined.

“I know, pretty, I’ll give you what you need.” His hands tightened their grip on your waist as he pulled out and slid back in quickly. You let out another carnal wail, your hands coming around to grab at his shoulders. He pulled out again, slamming into you, continuing on until you felt like a puddle on the bed.

“So wet and tight for me, such a good girl.” He grunted as he fucked into you. You nodded pitifully, not sure why, lost in the pleasure. Over and over again he slid against that sweet spot inside you, making you feel like you were on fire. Your orgasm soon approached you like a freight train.

“Nicholas please, I need- I need to come-” You stammered, close to sobbing. 

“I know, it’s so much, I know, you can come, doll.” His words opened a dam as your orgasm overcame you in a powerful wave, making you all but scream as he fucked you through it.

He pulled out shortly after, jerking himself to completion on your stomach. You were gasping for air, legs quivering with the aftershocks of your orgasm as hot ropes of come covered you. 

You felt disgusting, in the most delicious way possible. 

Nicholas disappeared around the corner, returning with a rag to clean you up. He had used hot water, you noted, so it was warm to the touch. 

“So that’s a deal?” You asked when he had finished cleaning you. 

He looked sad, but the expression was quickly gone. “I suppose it is.”

He set the rag on your bedside table, already going to collect his clothing.

“I have a question, before you disappear again.” You called over his shoulder.

“And what is your question?” He turned around to face you as he pulled on his briefs.

“If I wanted a Grammy,” You began, cocking your head to the side. “What would your rates be for that?”

He gave you a grin, understanding your implication immediately as he dropped his pants back onto the floor.

“I’d be open to negotiation of terms.” He murmured as he made his way back over to the bed, lips slotting against yours once more.

[golvio]

It was a bit of whiplash going from The Damsel to The Beast, particularly since the jumping off point I picked was stabbing her when she was gnawing her arm off (you very pointedly ignore that instead of recoiling in disgust to lock in Damsel or Witch). However...in retrospect, it kind of makes sense that the Damsel, Witch, and Beast routes can branch off of the same place.

All three routes deal with themes of dehumanization. Damsel is dehumanization through idealization, where she remains person-shaped, but loses a lot of what made her "her" in Chapter 1 in favor of being someone who could "make you happy." Witch is dehumanization through contempt or exploitation, where you either consciously betray her or just give up on her as soon as the Narrator pushes back, and she takes on some of the Beast's features but still remains partly human. With the Beast, it's total dehumanization through the reflexive disgust response brought on by seeing her gnaw her own limb off like a trapped animal. You get a glimpse of her as something other than human, and you become fixated on that, totally rejecting her until you mold her into something that's just as inhuman as you think she is. If you double down, she eventually becomes so dehumanized by the feedback loop of your treatment of her that she fully becomes an animal and loses the ability to speak.

That's why I think it's important that the two ways that the Beast seems to end on a more positive note (barring the secret ending you're unlikely to get the first time where you pick the exactly correct set of choices that get you to free her while playing dead) is by either her forcing you to understand her by "making you a part of her" (by eating you, which later causes you to "become her" so much that the two of you reintegrate into The Wild), or by you trying to talk to her once she becomes The Den and gets trapped in the little burrow leading upwards. Instinct alone can keep you alive, and territorial aggression can vanquish a predator, but it can't break the cycle of violence you've trapped yourselves in. Only reason and compassion can do that. You have to get in touch with your own humanity again to help her get in touch with hers.

There's also this theme of "regression"/"neglect" in her cabin. Her Chapter II cabin changes the least compared to the other Princess', but its change is marked by abandonment and decay as the cabin is reclaimed by nature and worn down by the elements. The wooden beams are beginning to fall apart with and termites have crept in to eat the table. It's as if the "default" cabin and the Princess herself are abandoning their humanity. In the Den, the cabin regresses to a crude Flintstones-style hut made of rocks or earth, and the table fully regresses to the stump of the fallen tree its wood was presumably harvested from. The Princess, too, regresses to a more primal form, losing her ability to speak and becoming a creature of pure appetite and predatory aggression.

In Chapter II, Beast gets a "nicer enclosure" in the basement more suited to her new form's needs, but in Chapter III, even though the exterior of the Den's cabin becomes a proper jungle, the room she's in becomes a dark pit completely devoid of light that she can't escape, filled with mold and decay, with her body becoming emaciated now that she's capable of starving, as she's become painfully aware of her own appetites. She becomes like a neglected exotic pet, left to waste away in the corner of a cramped, filthy cage. The tips of her new antlers are covered in blood, as if she's shedding velvet or they erupted suddenly and painfully from her own forehead, suggesting this transformation was a painful one.

It's...unnerving to see her become this. Even if she's more powerful, the only way she has to communicate with us is through her eyes. The only way she can think of to get us to let her out of the cabin is by devouring us. It's not even that she's actually hungry for our flesh, it's just that she wants to leave together, because she knows she can't leave alone. That urge to connect with us is still there, that need to make a bond of trust is still required for her to leave, it's just all warped by how inhuman we've made her.

It's also interesting to see that you can get to The Wild through either the Beast or the Witch. I didn't fully commit to Wild yet, as I'm saving that for a later playthrough where I knock out a lot of Chapter IIIs I didn't get to see during my first two times, but I think it'd make the most sense for me to approach it from the Beast's chapter, both through the themes of consumption/absorption, but also because it'll give me an opportunity to talk to her and gain new insights, given that she's not as talkative while she's trying to hunt you the first time around.

[bcdrawsandwrites]

Day 20: Alt prompt: Prison Characters: Compton Boole and Ford Cruller Warnings: References to canon animal death. Summary: Compton didn't realize he'd be getting out of jail so soon.

This was certainly one of the worst situations he'd found himself in. Not the worst, of course—that would be the divorce. And after that, the events that had transpired last night. He did not want to think about those events, even though they were what led to his current circumstances.

He did not much want to think about that, either.

So he didn't, leaving his consciousness to hang somewhere above his body, which was sitting in a filthy, reeking cell. Some other part of his mind was still off somewhere else, screaming hysterically, while in a distant memory—somewhere several kilometers away—were the voices of cheering abruptly turning to screaming before going silent, then starting up again, over and over in a cacophonous background chorus.

And beyond all that was another very, very small voice, wondering what he was going to do. He'd thought this would be a new life for him—going rogue, helping the hurting animals like he'd always wanted—but...

He could barely remember turning himself in, having the faintest memories of going to the police, being questioned and dragged around for a while and then winding up here.

He couldn't even imagine where he should go after this, after what had happened. Perhaps he should just... stay here.

Just as the cheering-to-screaming started anew, another voice cut in:

"All right, Boole, you're free to go."

It didn't register, at first, sounding just as far away as everything else. It wasn't until the officer repeated himself a few more times that his consciousness crept a bit closer to his body. "C-come again?" he heard himself stammer.

"Someone's come to bail you out."

Compton blinked once, twice. "A-are you sure?"

"Yes, Boole. I don't know why anyone would want to bail out a psychopath like you, but here we are."

He didn't know, either. Surely not Barbara—she wanted nothing to do with him now to begin with, and after that...

"It's some American. Friend of yours?"

That shocked him right back to his senses, and he stood up. "A-an American? What would...?"

Someone—perhaps the American in question—stepped into the room. His hands were behind his back, and he stared at Compton with a look of keen interest, his eyes looking him up and down, studying him. The officer glanced at the man. "You sure about this?"

"'Course I'm sure," the man replied in a strong accent Compton had only ever heard on TV. "Let 'im outta there."

The officer shrugged. "Your funeral." With that, he strode over to Compton's cell and unlocked the door. Before opening it, however, he turned back to the other man. "If you believe the rumors, this guy's a mentalist."

Compton didn't have time to shrink back as the man shot a glare at the officer, his calm facade instantly gone. "You gonna let 'im out or what?"

The officer glared back, but opened the cell regardless. Compton hesitated.

The man's demeanor went calm again as he stepped toward the cell. "C'mon. Let's get you outta here."

Compton looked around; he'd never really taken a moment to take in his surroundings. The cell was cold, and dark, and reeked something terrible.

Much like the cages the animals had been in.

Shuddering, he closed his eyes and lowered his head. "It's true, you know."

"Hm?"

"What I did... and what the officer said."

"I know."

Slowly he looked up. "You... do?" The officer was staring at him with renewed disgust, while the man was still watching him calmly. If anything, his expression had grown warmer.

Compton took a step back. "Then you know I should stay here."

"No, I don't think so," the man replied, with the air of someone answering a question of the weather.

"But you knew what I did!" Compton cried, tugging at his hair, and the memories were coming back, the animals and their joyful voices that were too loud, too much, and he'd just wanted to help, he'd just wanted to save them, but he'd—he'd— "I-I'm a murderer."

"Now hold on—"

"I didn't mean to do it," he went on, his breathing coming in short gasps, "but they wouldn't—I didn't—oh!"

The officer shouted in alarm and scrambled away as Compton hunched over, grasping his head, but the man charged forward instead. Compton wanted to tell him to get away, but he was panicking too hard to speak. It was going to happen all over again, only this time it wouldn't be animals, it would be—it would be...!

Something touched his head, and he yelped, waiting for the terrible, inevitable explosion.

Nothing happened.

Gasping, he looked up, and found the man standing a few feet away, his posture that of one who was starting to flee but had paused, a bright smile on his face. The cop, meanwhile, was hiding behind his desk.

"Wh... what happened?" Compton stammered.

"Otto's plan worked," the American replied, straightening himself and placing his hands on his hips. He did not bother to explain who "Otto" was. Glancing to the side, he scratched his head. "Didn't think we'd have to use it so soon, but..."

"Use what?" Compton reached up to scratch his own head, only to find a covering had been placed on it. Blinking, he removed it, and looked it over; it was a simple covering made of cloth and a metallic material that he did not recognize.

"We saw in the news what had happened, and Otto... eh, you don't care about that part. Important thing is, it'll stop those outbursts of psychic energy."

He stared at it for a long moment, and his hands began to tremble. "It's..."

"Not terribly attractive—I told him that, but he didn't want to waste material until we could—"

Tears blurred Compton's vision. "It's... wonderful."

The man knelt next to him. "Well, there's more where that came from," he said, lowering his voice. "My name's Ford Cruller. My partners and I are studyin' our psychic powers out in the states. We'd be happy if you could join us."

Compton had to fight to keep from using the head covering—this wonderful, life-changing hat—as a handkerchief. "Y-yes," he replied. "Yes. I would love to."

[romanoffsbish]

Pretty Princess

Natasha Romanoff x F!StarkR

Request | WC: 3,526

Warnings: Age Gap (R is 21) | Angst -> Fluff

Smut: A snippet | Mommy (N) Fingering (R)

Natasha hated it, but the way in which her body desperately craved you was undeniable.

Unforgivable too since you were the heir to the Stark empire, and over ten years younger. Not only would Tony be furious to find her in this current position, with you beneath her, but she herself felt unwelcome feelings of disgust.

"Mommy, please," you breathed out and she nearly collapsed atop of you—you're filthy...

——

God did she love how filthy—you—are, she'd never felt such overwhelming feelings for another before. It wasn't love, at least she didn't think it was, she really wouldn't know.

"What do you want kotenok?" Her words made your head spin in more ways than one as she moved from one nipple to the other, while her fingers that were deep inside you kept up a painstakingly slow pace, inching you towards your release, but keeping you in bliss limbo.

"To cum," you whimpered, tears pooled in your eyes as you felt that familiar coil tightening. "Please mommy, wanna cum for you so bad."

Natasha rapidly kissed down your body as you pleaded, she knew you couldn't hold out much longer, so her tongue swirled around your swollen bundle of nerves, then she suctioned her lips around it and commanded, "Let go..."

Your body soon trembled as her fingers brushed over that sensitive spot deep within you, she had brought you over the edge with an expertise that left you feeling a bit jealous.

You were inexperienced in comparison, you'd barely even touched yourself, let alone had you had the time to scout out potential suitors. It was either work in the lab with your dad, or spend your free time with your favorite girl.

Natasha kept you at a distance, or at least she always tried to, but she couldn't say no to you. Except for when it came to her feelings, she'd established the neutrality of your situation.

Even with said boundaries, she still caved almost every single time; now was no different.

"Stay, please..." Natasha tried to fight the urge, she knew staying only prolonged the inevitable hurt that always came with a morning after.

Yet she found herself unable to say no this time, mostly because she no longer slept well without you, but she told herself it was for you. It wasn't fair, to you, to have sex then bolt. So she stayed, pulling you and the duvet atop of her body before she allowed sleep to win out.

—

Natasha's eyes fluttered open, her muscles felt heavy, initially she remembered your previous escapades, but then she felt your soft breath.

For a moment her heart settled, your presence in her arms was incredibly grounding. Then she remembered all at once that this wasn't a good position even if it felt that way. Her biggest rule was to never stay, because to stay would only be torturous for the both of you.

It can't be just sex with post cuddles (longing glances, and persistent, aching hearts either).

The redhead tried to slip out from beneath you, but as she tried to you burrowed further into her and were jolted into consciousness when she gently flipped you off of her. "Natasha?"

"Go back to sleep Y/N," she softly said, her eyes looking anywhere but in your direction. The idea that you'd be pouting too much to bare.

"Nat, can we please stop this? Can't we try?"

The redhead huffed as she jumped back into her suit pants, her head shook before it was slipping through the hole of her sheer creme polo that was now wrinkled from the way she'd formerly tossed it. This was the right time to call this off she reasoned. Even if her heart was screaming at her not to make such a mistake.

"Y/N, there's nothing to try, this," she gestured between your bodies, "Is nothing, and it can never happen again. Tony would never..."

"Stop it!" You shouted, interrupting her while on the verge of a mental breakdown. "Your message was received, now get the hell out."

You had never spoken to her like that before, part of her was proud of you for standing your ground, you'd always been so soft natured. Still, Natasha's hands reflexively clenched as she met your teary eyed, stony glare. The same eyes that usually sparkled with adoration at the mere sight of her now held genuine contempt.

"Y/N," she tried, hand reaching out to cup your face but you swatted it away. "Please just go."

Natasha sighed, and left without another word.

Taking your heart with her, and leaving you to cry yourself into a moment of sobering clarity.

It was time for you to move on... Completely.

—

The following day came with a heaviness in Natasha's heart, and therein followed her half baked apologies, but when she knocked on your door that morning there was silence. It was jarring, but she shrugged it off with indifference as she reasoned you were just out.

Then night fell and she was met with the continuation of heart wrenching nothingness. In that moment she knew something was off.

In a blink a few weeks had flown by, she'd hope it'd blow over by now so she could fix it, but there was no sight of you to even try. Then there was a brief hope as Tony had casually mentioned you'd been on a trip with a friend when Steve asked one afternoon. Her ears had perked up, hoping for the answer as well, but once she got it she'd all but lost her appetite.

Her mind ran wild with doomed curiosity about you already moving on with another.

After that night Natasha couldn't sleep, a few hours here or there, but never enough to be a productive person. Fortunately she could fake it with the rest of them, but everyday that went by without seeing you made her heart ache.

It all finally came to a head as Natasha entered the common room to see a bustling of people in brown cargo pants and navy blue shirts. Some had boxes as they brushed by her, others were in teams carrying pieces of furniture. She was perplexed, but moreover she felt a bit uneasy.

"Did you hear the good news?" Tony asked, hand slapping into her shoulder as he spoke with an excited voice. "The kids finally come to her senses, and is going off to NYU after all."

You'd extended your gap year into three for her... She knew with guilt riddled certainty, it was obvious with the way that your eyes would find hers, immediately dulled at the thought of leaving whenever Tony casually mentioned it.

Natasha's entire body tensed at the idea that she'd literally pushed you away, a sign that Tony himself had no problem understanding. He'd known all along, and he didn't care. It would be completely out of line for him to have such a negative opinion with the past he lived.

Nor would it have been his place, you weren't chattel for him to sell. You were his capable, grown up daughter, whose heart and choices over who to give it to were her own.

All the salt and pepper haired man really wanted was for everybody to be happy. He knew neither of you would truly be without the other, so he's subtly giving her a chance to fix it. To inspire her brain to catch up to her heart before it was too late. He turned her around, her face was obviously neutral, but her eyes held the faintest traces of hurt and regret.

"If you go now," he looked to his watch in a playfully pointless manner, "You can catch her before the campus orientation and tell her."

Natasha looked to him dumbfounded. "What?"

"You weren't fooling anyone Nat. Nobody ever had a chance to flirt with her at my parties with your menacing hovering, and every time Pep tried to set Y/N up she'd make up a silly excuse all while her eyes flitted longingly to you."

"You're not mad?" He shook his head, a smirk settling on his face. "I was a playboy for a long time Nat, I've dated woman 20 years older, as well as younger, I have no right to judge."

Natasha smiled, and pulled her friend in for a rare hug, but seeing as how he'd basically given her his blessing she couldn't avoid the reaction.

Tony gave her the address to your new place, it was a townhome not too far away, and sent her off with a few parting words, "I however will be mad if you don't fix this Natasha, hurry and mend my little girls broken heart, and promise me now that you'll never break it again."

"I wouldn't dream of it." The redhead waved him goodbye before racing off to the garage and speeding down the highway to get to you.

The complex you were in was lavish, and she knew that was your fathers doing. You were never one of those excessive trust fund babies. Staying in the compound was your choice, you worked at a cafe four days a week, helped your dad in the lab others, and paid your own bills.

It all felt more real as she climbed off her bike. You were really moving forward, without her, but if you'd listen she could possibly fix that. The distance wasn't bad, she actually wouldn't mind the drive for the sake of your future. You were destined for greatness, and if you'd let her she'd be there to ensure that you reached it.

On nights where you forgot to take care of yourself she'd be there to shovel a spoonful of pasta into your mouth as you studied. Then she'd clean your place as you took a bath. She'd turn your mind off with her skilled tongue, and hold you close, whispering sweet nothing to you as you fought sleep just to hear her.

She'd also take the brunt of your frustration, encouraging you to yell at her as if she was the problem. Because she knows her career will be an issue at times. You'd never take it too far, so she wouldn't mind if you screamed at her a bit.

Through every high and low, she'd be there to pick up the pieces, and repair them because that's what you do when you love someone, and she knew now that you were her one and only.

As soon as she removed her helmet though she saw you walking out of the lobby door with another woman. Her heart froze when she saw your carefree smile, it was genuine, and for a moment she thought it was a mistake coming here. The girl was clearly closer in age to you, and her life couldn't be as complicated as hers.

Then she blinked, a blur of your years together flew by before her. From the first time you met, at a Stark party as you'd finally been invited. You were your fathers best kept secret until then, only to become hers in a matter of months; she was mesmerized from the start.

At first she kept away from you, you who chose to take a gap year, and after refused to take your father up on your own house. You chose to stay at the compound to have a semblance of freedom from the far away cabin with your stepmother, Pepper, and your sister, Morgan.

Natasha hated your sudden presence, but only because of how easy it was to fall into a routine of sorts with you. Everyone in the compound woke up closer to noon on off days, but she never let herself get comfortable with late rising. Always one for being prepared for the potential of an emergency kept her up by 6am.

To her initial displeasure, you were always up and in the gym doing some form of yoga. Her eyes would cast over to you occasionally, she was into your body within an instant. But as the months went by she couldn't help but to be enamored by you overall. You were sweet, but not in the fake, daughter of a figurehead way, but in the genuinely worried about others way.

Gym meetings soon became followed up by quiet breakfasts where you'd make the food, while she would prepare herself coffee, and your drink that varied by the day. Every Friday she'd make you both a smoothie jam packed with nutrients to combat your college kid diet. Because even if you weren't in school yet, you were already keen on ramen and energy drinks.

Mornings together turned into nights, and on one fateful evening, after the both of you had one too many drinks you fell into bed together. It was everything, and nothing all at once. A cataclysmic linking of two battered souls. Natasha tried to will herself to regret it, but it was only ever surface level as she was fighting with the belief that she wasn't enough for you.

No matter how much better that woman at your side could be for you, she was determined to let you know she could and would be better.

Every sweet touch that melded into the sinful mattered, it led her to this moment. Her mind tried to grasp how she'd approach the delicate situation, but she didn't have long as she looked up to see you angrily marching over, leaving your friend behind to head to campus alone. Natasha's eyes widened, but her face stayed as neutral as possible to hide her worry.

"What the hell are you doing here Natasha?"

Natasha... Her heart stilled at the formality of your use of her full name. Like the love you harbored had fizzled out in a few weeks time.

Natasha took a cautious step towards you, and smiled nervously. "I'm here for you Y/N."

"No." You shook your head and willed the tears to stop blurring your vision. "You can't just pick and choose when you want me Nat."

The redhead took advantage of your vulnerable state to rush forward and guide your face into the fabric of her shirt, her leather jacket layering over you to shield you from the prying eyes as you lost all your trained composure.

"Detka, I want you always." Natasha whispered with a newfound conviction, she was certain. No doubt remained, this love was worth every last sacrifice. "I was wrong to dismiss you, but I was scared. I've never loved someone this way before, and when confronted I just bolted."

"I haven't either," you sniffled, your words muffled as your face was still pressed to her, "I was scared too, but I wasn't willing to let this slip, but you were a coward Nat. Why now? You couldn't fuck me for a few weeks —."

"No," Natasha cut you off, "It's not the sex."

"It's hard to believe that Nat..."

Natasha pulled you from her chest so she could delicately cradle your face between her hands. Her lips pressed to your forehead firmly, then again to both of your cheeks, ending on your nose as she allowed your sobs to lessen. She wanted you calm as she spilled her heart.

"I know I've created a situation of mistrust," she starts, voice shaking enough that you were made aware of her sincerity. "But I don't want you for your body only. This isn't a game to me detka, I love you for who you are wholly."

"Do you even know me?" Natasha frowned at the insinuation, but then she nodded, and smiled fondly as she thought of your every little quirk. The things that nobody else notices, but that she adored with her entire being. "You do this thing," she chuckled freely, "With your mesmerizing eyes, they cross and roll around whenever your dad says something stupid."

You smiled, heart cracking open ever so slightly, giving her a chance to win you back.

"You sing along to your music in the shower," she teased, "I'll hear you through the vents just really giving it your all. It's adorable."

"It's embarrassing." Natasha shook her head. "To you sure, but to Clint it’s a concert, and to me it's cute, and the highlight of my nights."

"When you think no one's watching, you'll take the whipped cream can and spray it directly into your mouth," she chuckled as your eyes widened. "I've even seen you give some to Alpine whenever Bucky brings him by."

"Don't tell Bucky." Natasha smirked. "I have yet to, my loyalties lie with you sweet girl."

Natasha pecked your nose, and nearly awe'd when it had scrunched up adorably. She could honestly list her favorite things about you for days, but she knew she was likely running short on time. So she moved onto your more endearing traits that gave way to your heart.

"You give up your weekends with friends to help Pepper with Morgan, your kid sister."

"Have you seen her?" You asked with a wide smile, just the way you beamed at the thought of your sister was enough to prove her point here. "She's like my best friend Natty!"

Natasha chuckled, "I know detka, but it's still unheard of for a young girl to do all of that."

"Pepper was always really good to me," you say with a soft smile. "It's the least I can do to help, she works so hard, and deserves a break. Plus, Morgan deserves to have an attentive sister."

"See, you're a total angel."

You went to rebut her claims, but she shook her head, and playfully glared down at you.

"On movie nights, you make sure that Peter gets first pick with snacks, because you worry the boy doesn't get enough food at home." She watched your lips pout at the idea, her eyes flooded with adoration. "On top of that, you volunteer at his aunts soup kitchen all the time because you have the biggest heart around."

Natasha took a pause, her hands fiddled about behind your neck as she just looked into your glaze over eyes and gathered her thoughts.

“When you’re dead asleep, you’ll murmur incoherently for awhile, but then I’ll rub your back, and it all stops. Like I am your comfort person, and I hope that’s true because I have found that I also can’t sleep without you.”

You smiled, with tears welling up in your eyes because the woman who has always held your attention, also kept hers on you. Even when she'd lied and said she didn't. "You know me."

"It's hard not to know you Y/N," she whispered the heartbreaking truth, and you hugged her tight as her voice trembled, "You're all I think about, because even though I ran, I knew even then that what we have isn't nothing, it's." You cut her off with an eager finish, "Everything."

Natasha smiled, thumb stroking the apple of your cheek as she nodded. "Yeah, you are everything I could ever need, so, if you're able to forgive me for being a coward, I'd really love a second chance to actually get this right."

"Nat," you whined, "I have somewhere to be and now you've made me sob like a baby."

"You're my baby," she teased with a smirk you desperately wanted to wipe away, with a kiss or a slap to the face, you weren't too sure yet.

"I think I prefer when your mouth is being put to better use elsewhere," you grumbled, then your eyes widened at just how brazen you were. "Oh, moya milaya lyubov'," Natasha's soft hold turned more direct as her fingers tickled your face moving down from your cheek to grip you by your chin instead as she hotly rasped, "I can say with absolute certainty that I agree."

(My sweet love)

To follow her words she tilted your head and leaned in to kiss you with unwavering passion. Her hands took their rightful places, one on your hip in a bruising manner while the other held your face firmly in place by your neck.

The kiss was heated, and doing the usual magic of turning your brain off, especially when her leg unconsciously slid between yours. Once your watch began to repeatedly ding though you got a hold of yourself and pulled away in a pant, "I have to go now Natty, raincheck?"

Natasha shook her head and your face fell, the dread that she might've changed her mind again giving you immense emotional whiplash.

"Wha—."

"I want to take you on a date first,” she leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Then I’ll tell you, or I guess more so, show you what I love most about you when you’re writhing beneath me.”

You smiled sheepishly, and stepped away from her with a purposeful rush that had you tripping over your feet, making her chuckle. Sure you were excited to meet your prospective classmates, but more importantly, you were keen on getting the orientation over with so you could return to the gorgeous woman that wanted you back. “Pick me up, seven sharp."

——

[whumplump]

Hi! I love your writings so much

You might be a busy cookie at this moment, but I wanted to request nsfwhump where Whumper chokes Whumpee during an intimate session

But Whumper taking it seriously and nearly killed Whumpee in the process

That's all <333 I love you, mwah!

Hello, anon, thank you so much, both for the compliment and for the ask! I hope you enjoy this piece.

CW: nsfwhump, non con, choking, sadistic whumper, non con drugging

Heavy and thoroughly descriptive. Please, don't read it if you're sensitive.

Plastic Moorings

The first entry was always painful. Whumper didn't mind trying to make things more comfortable. In fact, inflicting pain was part of the game, part of the fun, part of the sadistic pleasure that Whumper got from watching Whumpee scream, cry and shake in pain, discomfort, shame. Above the physical pleasure of intimate contact between bodies, the sadistic psychological pleasure of dominating and overpowering.

Whumper repeated the movement. In and out, in and out. Once, twice, dozens, hundreds of times. They never seemed satisfied. They always took too long, and this, in addition to forcing Whumpee to be under the despair of being forced to do this all this time, also made them feel humiliated. Would they be of no use either for that or for satisfying someone with their body, which is why Whumper always took so long?

It didn't seem like the case, given the words. That evil voice, full of malice. Whumper lowered their voice and spoke between their grunts, the same wicked words.

“You're such a disgusting thing, you know that?”

“That's only what you're good for.”

“Aren't you glad I have any interest in such an ugly body you have here?”

“You're only good on the inside. I'm not talking about your heart, though…”

“Filthy slut.”

Whumpee tried to squirm against the restraints that held their wrists and feet, but even if they were properly conscious, they couldn't. The ropes were tied tightly.

"Ah, look at that." Whumper said, running a hand down Whumpee's bruised, naked body. "Do you want me to let you go, beautiful?”

They ran their hand up from Whumpee's waist, up to their chest, stopping over their collarbone. Whumper's fingers danced agonizingly slow over Whumpee's soft skin, scarred from bites and spanks. The mischievous fingers went up, calmly wrapping themselves around Whumpee's neck. The captive immediately tried to draw air for fear of being suffocated and unable to do so later. But even with the most vivid effort, the drugs that coursed through their veins kept them semi-conscious, unable to speak, except for painful grunts and, however repugnant it may be, moans.

Whumper watched the fear grow in the unfocused eyes of their abused captive, and clenched their fingers. Whumpee squirmed in anticipation of the next move. Whumper grunted and forced themselves harder into that warm body, forcibly given to them. Whumpee was too drugged to cry in pain. Whumper tightened their grip on Whumpee's neck as they murmured continuous vows of lust, punctuating each sentence with a thrust.

Whumper squeezed tighter and tighter, with all their might. Whumpee coughed, desperate, choking. It was no longer enough that they couldn't resist, but now they couldn't even breathe. The brain ordered the lungs to draw air frantically, but it was like shouting at a deaf person with their back turned, they would never hear. The agony was greater than the pain of Whumper's strength.

A few seconds, which seemed like an eternity. That desperate, helpless expression brought Whumper nothing but pleasure. Both their hands and hips showed more strength over the next few seconds. Whumpee could no longer make out the ceiling of the room, their vision was blurred like clear glass, and it kept getting dark. Their consciousness, held by a fragile rope, tearing with each passing second, until it breaks. Just like Whumper's rope, which broke all the way to the apex. They held Whumpee's waist with one hand and kept the other on the captive's neck.

May God take me soon, Whumpee thought. Why was it taking so long? It was agonizing, but the sadistic pleasure was also temporary. Already satisfied, Whumper released them. Whumpee coughed, choking, and it still took them a long time to get air properly. Whumper got off of them and got dressed. They no longer seemed as enchanted with that body as they had been before.

They stared at Whumpee stretched out on the bed, used up and out of breath, tied up. Perfect, but they weren't interested anymore now. They left with determined steps, leaving the captive to drown in their own shame and pain.

[clementexix]

His Weakness

Tom was sitting with his usual gesture, hands kept working on some kinds of dark art projects until his minions reported him the result of the ambush given 3 days ago. Another failure, Riddle hissed under his breath, tried not to break his composure as it was the third one this month. Recently, this had become a displeasure to him since he was proud of his army. Everywhere they went, there would be a victory, not a defeat. The young Dark Lord wondered what made the Ministry of Magic become stronger lately but soon your name blurted out from their mouth, his hand stopped in his tracks and his face darkened. It seemed like the young British man was stunned and deep in thoughts. His facial expressions were indescribable as the short-curly-haired man pleaded ignorance whether he should be furious or not. He told them to get out before giving them a chance to observe his vulnerable side. You had always been his weakness since he knew he fell hard for you but, being the most powerful man did not allow him to grow this disgusting affection for such a girl who was completely opposite to him. If you were light, Tom was darkness. If you were sunny days, he was rainy nights. And if you were loved by all, he was feared by those that adored you. However, this did not stop him from secretly longing for you for years. Though his words were brutal, his gaze lied. The young Dark Lord actually cared for you, his one and only love, even when you were on the side of those filthy muggles, even when you were against him.

An annoying voice pulled him out of thoughts. A few Death Eaters suggested getting rid of you since they acknowledged you as a real threat to their purposes. Little did they know their lives were on the brink of death. As soon as hearing theie common opinions, one of those who came up with the idea were shot the Cruciatus Curse by their Lord, which appallingly silenced the whole room. 

"Next time, it will be my favorite spell so watch you all mouth."

No one dared to stutter a word. They were frightened at the scene, several were outraged because the honor Lord they were worshiping just protected their enemy; yet, they were too foolish to realize you were his only exception. Solely those Death Eaters who attended Hogwarts with him knew this bitter fact, but they could not do anything either. They could only bear in mind that as long as it was not you, nobody would be able to stop them from ruling the whole world. 

As long as it was not you, Tom would get rid of those trying to get in his way. Except you.