#your mind. so powerful

[neytris]

“not so fast baby girl.” he catches your jaw, his hold firm as he turns your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. your breath catches in your throat as you meet his ravenous golden eyes, clenching around nothing at the expression that had become all too familiar. “i spend weeks teaching you. taking my precious time to make sure you can be of some use to this clan. yet you think you can tease me? getting off on having me bare for you, on leaving me untouched? now tell me syulang, do you think that is any way to repay your teacher?”

this. well this right here had me clenching my thighs together. baby girl???? syulang???? his dominance???? why am i blushing right now OMG. the effect this man has on me—

“no, it seems like karyu still has one last lesson to teach you.”

“now, show me you can be good, and you might still get to come tonight.”

i just moaned out loud. i did. i’m such a slut for praise w a liiiittle bit of degradation you have NO idea. aaa i’m going FERAL !

“now go and get your camera, sevin. i think it’s time we make a movie.”

YES. yes YES yesYES. the scream i scrumpt— use me honestly. use me like a rag doll, i do NOT mind. at all. i’m a neteyamist. his life >>>>> mine. i OBEY my man. i am HIS property

𝒔𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒂 ೃ⁀➷ 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆

Pairing: Adult!Neteyam (19) x Fem!Omatikaya Reader (21) Warnings: explicit smut, pet names, praise kink, the tiniest hint of degradation, softdom!Neteyam, oral sex (m receiving) Word Count: 1.4k a/n: The final part to this little series is here, dedicated to the wonderful 📸 anon who kicked off this whole thing with their request. This is only lightly proofread, so if you see any errors, then no you didn't because I'll be back in the morning to read through again. Na'vi word bank: sevin - pretty, tewng - loincloth, syulang - flower, karyu - teacher Click to be added to my taglist. Requests are open

You finally get a chance to photograph Neteyam, but you can't help but push your luck.

previous

Neteyam had quickly discovered how effective an incentive his promise had been.

To the amazement of both your fathers, under Neteyam’s tutelage you had passed your iknimaya on your first try, ready in a matter of weeks. But it was no surprise to your teacher, who had seen the fire in your eyes, the determination to get what you wanted.

The celebration held by your father had barely come to an end before you found him, fingers intertwining with his as you led him to your new mount. He hadn’t questioned you as he climbed onto your ikran behind you, knowing your patience had been waning with each training session that he insisted you left your camera behind. Each time that his hands roamed your body but you were not yet allowed to touch his.

He couldn’t help but think that you were now seeking revenge.

His cock was achingly hard at the sight of you crouched down, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you tried to get the angle of your shot just right. As you had been for the better part of an hour, directing him into position after position until he found himself with his back resting against a thick root of the tree of souls, legs splayed wide in front of him, his leaking erection exposed to the cool air.

“Sevin please.” He whines, hips bucking into nothing as if it would give him any relief. He would wrap his hand around his length, but his last attempt to do so had you scolding him for ‘ruining your shot’ and Neteyam who prided himself in excelling at everything, wanted to be nothing less than a perfect subject.

Yet when he sees the twitch at the corner of your lips, he knows he’s being played. You try to hide your amusement from behind the camera, but he knows that if he could see your eyes they’d be sparkling with mischief.

“Sevin.” His voice rumbles from his chest as he tilts his head, trying to catch your eyes from behind the screen. Your ears fold back and you drop the camera from your face, a look of faux innocence gracing your features as you raise your brow.

“Yes, Neteyam?”

“Come here.”

“But-“ The look on his face ends any argument you have prepared.

You fumble with the camera, trying to find somewhere you could set it that would allow you to document this moment. With the hunger in which he looked at you, you knew you would want to look back on this.

“Leave it.” His words stop you in your tracks and the way you look at him, eyes wide and sad and the way that your tail halts it erratic wagging, he nearly takes it back. And of course, he will eventually. He will give you what you want, as he always does. “I mean it Sevin, you had your chance. Now don’t make me come over there.”

Your hands tighten around the camera, eyes narrowing as they meet his. His cock twitches and Neteyam hopes that you disobey him, that you give him a reason to punish you. But of course, you don’t. As always you do as asked of you, his sweet thing, and you abandon your prized possession and seat yourself in his lap.

His head falls back as your soaked tewng meets his swollen tip and you roll your hips a suspicious amount of times in the name of getting comfortable, until he regains his composure and fingers grasp at your middle, stilling your movements.

“Not so fast baby girl.” He catches your jaw, his hold firm as he turns your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. Your breath catches in your throat as you meet his ravenous golden eyes, clenching around nothing at the expression that had become all too familiar. “I spend weeks teaching you. Taking my precious time to make sure you can be of some use to this clan. Yet you think you can tease me? Getting off on having me bare for you, on leaving me untouched? Now tell me syulang, do you think that is any way to repay your teacher?”

Your mouth opens to proclaim your innocence as he thrusts his hips, cock brushing against your clit with a bruising force that knocks the air from your lungs and the disobedience from your tongue. “Cat got your tongue, sevin?” He breathes, tugging your jaw forward until his lips meet yours. His tongue invades your mouth, claiming it as his own until both of your chests are left heaving against each other. You lean forward, desperate to feel him, to taste him again but he halts your movement with his unrelenting grip on your face.

You pout, a last resort to appeal to his better nature, a move that had proved effective on many occasions prior. Pairing it with a soft coo of “Neteyam.” and a roll of your hips for added effect.

“Nice try sevin, but did you really think you could tease me like that and get away with it?” He questions, hands running down your body until they’re at your hips lifting you off of him, a smirk playing at his lips as you whine at the distance it creates between his firmness and your wet heat. His cock springs up between you, and your mouth waters at the sight of it, wet with both of your arousals. “No, it seems like karyu still has one last lesson to teach you.”

His settles back into the root, hand clasping your wrist and bringing your hand to his seeping cock. “Now, show me you can be good, and you might still get to come tonight.”

That’s all the encouragement you need to take him in your hand, relishing in the sound he makes as you finally give his length the attention it deserves. His eyes widen as he watches you crawl down his body, slowly pumping his cock as you settle yourself between his thighs. This was not something that had been included in any of your lessons.

You stick your tongue out and lick him from base to tip, swirling your tongue along his slit to taste his arousal. His hand finds it’s way into your hair wrapping around your braids in a firm but gentle grip. You take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you take in as much of him as you can until he hits the back of your throat and you’re forced to take the rest of him in your hand, not wanting to leave an inch untouched.

Neteyam's hands tighten in your hair, a growl rumbling from his chest. He’s close already, his cock so desperate for touch that he’d been ready to spill into you the moment your lips wrapped around his tip. "That's it, sevin. Take it all. You're so good for me." Your cunt clenches, slick dripping down your thighs at his sweet praise.

His hips buck uncontrollably pushing his tip further down your throat and he groans as your throat spasms around him trying to accommodate the added intrusion. He barely gets out an apology as his release finally overtakes him and he spills into your mouth. You swallow every drop eagerly, licking him clean, not letting a drop of his release go to waste.

You rest your head on his thigh, regaining control of your breathing , delighting in the feeling of his hands running softly through your hair as he comes down from his high. A hand reaches down to grasp your own and he pulls you back up into his lap, his cock already hard again as it settles between your soaked folds.

He holds you tight against his chest, his lips pressing to your forehead in adoration. "You're such a good girl for me, sevin." His words send a shiver down your spine, cheeks tinting with pink as he cups them between his hands and presses his lips to yours, tongue pressing into your mouth to catch a taste of himself. He pulls away, but not without leaving another quick peck on your lips.

“Now go and get your camera, sevin. I think it’s time we make a movie.”

taglist: @justasimps-blog, @theycallmesia, @iwantjaketosullyme, @mashiromochi, @yetanotherattemptatanaccount

[manzanamarim]

The ✨WRIGHT ✨ ANYTHING ✨ AGENCY ✨

[shotmrmiller]

i need simon to be the one neighbor with a generator when the light's been out for days and when you shakily ask him if he can let you at least charge your phone he just drags you into his home and tells you that you can stay if you pull your weight ie. feed him and wash his ripe work clothes.

sure. you don't know how to cook but he eats it like gordon ramsey made it, doesn't even leave crumbs on the table.

you mix colors with whites, dark with light, but luckily for you, all he wears is black. (not like it matters. if you stained a wife beater pink, he'd blame it on his girl mixing her red thready knickers in with his own clothes)

it works, you suppose, but then he tells you that yall are about to have company so make plenty of food. it's 3 others but they all eat like a family of four.

and this is where things take a turn. where he always left you alone before, his hands are on your shoulders. waist. hips. curling around your ankle, thumb digging into your foot beneath the table. the scottish one notices and tells you both to keep it PG. ye're in decent company, he grumbles.

he helps pick up the dishes once everyone's happy and full of whatever you threw in the oven. stands so close he's pining you against the sink, counter digging painfully into your skin.

"they like ya," he says. well yes, you rather noticed when they kept complimenting the science experiment you called dinner. you also noticed that they called you missus. or maybe you misheard. their accents are pretty thick.

after a nightcap, he sends them on their merry way. "the missus is tired. off with ya." so you hadn't misheard.

you aren't sure how one thing led to another. how you'd been aimlessly drying dishes with a rag to having his head between your thighs, tongue dragging between your folds, fingers pressed into you up to the knuckle.

what do you know is that where he bit your neck as you came still aches. he'd been talking filth that would have even a sailor apple cheeked as he used his spit slick thumb to rub your stiff pearl in tight little circles, feeling you felt your peak approaching at a speed that almost frightened you when he sunk his crooked teeth into the junction of your neck. hard.

enough to feel a bit of a stinging tearing of skin.

ouch. you'd ask if this is also a part of pulling your weight but he's doing it for you as he drags you toward his bedroom.

[egophiliac]

just thinking about hair and faces

[grissomesque]

We were separated.

[doctorsiren]

I loved your headcannons about inukawa, reigen and reigens sister and I would really like to see what you think would happen if mob and reigens sister met and I was wondering if you could possibly draw them :D

hello yes I accidentally made a comic after seeing this ask yesterday 😁 bro psychoanalyzed her 😨

[nashvillethotchicken]

I stand with Louis no matter what. If either lestat or armand did that shit to me and people talked about me the way they talk about louis on here and on twitter you're gonna see me in history books

[purgetrooperfox]

tired: fox has never done anything wrong in his life he was under control of the chip he didn't mean to kill fives he would never do that

wired: fox was being deliberately, continuously manipulated by palpatine into doing anything he wanted under threat of severe bodily harm, no chip necessary

inspired: fox is a product of brainwashing and genuinely believes in the senate and the republic, which is in constant conflict with the rhetoric he hears from politicians and his general dislike of senators, but that conflict is ultimately irrelevant. he believes in the institution with his entire self. he was born to die for this system and would lose his shit if he started questioning it in any meaningful way. The Institution told him to kill fives so he killed fives, it told him to hunt down ahsoka so he did it, etc etc. conviction that this is all worth it because the republic Can Only Be Right (or else his entire existence and everything the guard puts up with are meaningless) is what gets his ass out of bed in the morning. he'll do terrible things to protect it, and by extension his sense of self, and he won't apologize for it because it's categorically Right in his brain. none of this changes the fact that he's routinely abused by this system, or the fact that he's enslaved by it, or that he has no real choice in anything, only how he personally reconciles it all

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[leafsfromthevine]

the boys are fighting (together. homoerotically, even).

[agoldengalaxy]

thank you, vanessa! you’ll be hearing from dan’s lawyer!

[potionpeddlerpatchy]

Crowned Prince Shouto who is so very much in love with you, even if it did take a while to come around after the arranged marriage occurred.

Crowned Prince Shouto whose brow creases and eyes twitch every time people in high court mock how plain you are under hushed breaths.

Crowned Prince Shouto who gets absolutely sloshed at a royal banquet to try and drown his anger when he hears a rumor going around that his marriage is unconsummated due to finding you so repulsive before storming off to find you.

Royal Advisor Izuku who rushes off to try and follow, only to hear a shriek coming from your room. When scrambling to investigate if you're okay he finds his master on his knees absolutely devouring your cunt while your receiving chamber door remains open a crack.

[reinvent-and-believe]

[gayofthefae]

Will haunting the narrative as both the innocent who was wrongfully destroyed AND the one that got away.

Season 2 Will impacting everything Mike does from that point forward just as much as Will's death impacts everyone.

El thinks of him when she confronts Brenner about the mind flayer, we know things like that. But Mike also thinks of him when he tells El he loves her.

They're all thinking of him. The last time they saw him.

The way he was never the same.

But Mike is thinking about the last time he saw him.

Losing him.

The way they were never the same.

(The way he can't get him back)

Yes, Will's disappearance changed everyone's trajectory forever. But he also changed Mike. He also made Mike's personal and romantic life impossible to return to after him.

He haunts more than just the people who mourn his death.

(The sole purpose of Mike's season 2 separation from El in the first place is so that he can never truly go back after Will)

[mariana-oconnor]

OK okokok... gonna put this 'I just woke up' thought out there because this is tumblr and what else is it for? Someone has probably already said this and I haven't seen it, but whatever. I will throw it out anyway.

SO... Gale. We've all seen the posts where people quote the Gale lines about being naturally gifted with magic as a baby, a prodigy etc. and then point out that this is sorcerer behaviour.

BUT, what if... you're all right and it is sorcerer behaviour. BUT the orb feeds on weave/magic right? And sorcerers are born with innate magic... so what if he was born a sorcerer, then trained as a wizard, but the orb consumed his sorcerous magic. And that's why he's not as powerful as he once was, because, unbeknownst to him, all this time, he's been using that natural sorcerous connection to make accessing the weave easier. And now that's gone. Eaten up. Destroyed forever by the Netherese void.

And that's part of what's causing him pain. Because an instrinsic part of himself has been taken away. And he feels it like a phantom limb. Maybe he thinks it was actually connected to his relationship with Mystra, rather than a part of him, and that adds to his sense of loss from that relationship.

What if the first magic item Gale fed to the orb was himself and he doesn't even realise it?

[elodieunderglass]

is PCRF still where you recommend people donate, or do you have another recommended group? I would like to donate but haven’t had time to do research.

(In reference to fundraising campaign I did for PCRF)

One of the most important things I have learned about conflict and healthcare and devastation, from someone who deals with them for their living, is that it is fractal, each piece of it containing unimaginable complexity, and that as a human you can’t really deal much with fractals that get more complex than, like, ferns. I am oversimplifying here. But the thing is that you cannot get bogged down endlessly in debating the nature of fractals. You decide on the level of complexity you can manage , perform an action and move on. You cannot take responsibility for every mathematical pattern that follows from your action; if you were a sort of cosmic weatherman, affecting the fates of people you’ve never met through some vague alchemy of intention, you’d know about it already. Therefore do not obsess too much over The Good Place levels of ethics and research, spiralling into fractals in search of the perfect. Therefore, also, if you want to give £2 to someone, feel free to ignore people who say “ah but if you give £2 to that guy they’ll spend it on something bad, and the whole fractal is rotten and broken.” You can only ever claim your own actions, a small piece of the fractal: to insist on your power over distant pieces of mathematical patterns is bonkers. It is religious nonsense. This is what I’ve learned and I thought it was pretty good, from someone who’d know.

So I believe the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund is not able to operate in Gaza at the moment, like many non-profits; I believe Medeciens Sans Frontiers aren’t in Gaza at the moment and that’s pretty dire indicator. However, they are mobilised in Lebanon.

The reasons why I selected PCRF to support include the fact that they have been able to deliver material aid, had pragmatic routes to evacuate children, and were reporting some success in providing/stabilising healthcare infrastructure. They have stated from the beginning that their intent was to support, and ideally restore, healthcare infrastructure, without which you cannot run a nation. I have known healthcare professionals who traveled with PCRF to work on complex cases prior to this conflict and I personally know/respect one of their prominent supporters, which helped me to make this choice. I also was hoping in the future that Gaza would have restored healthcare infrastructure and PCRF had stated their commitment to doing so.

I have received and listened to criticism about this choice, and I firmly believe that no matter what choice you make to support a cause, you’ll receive some measure of criticism (the fractal! Elodie you must consider the fractal nature of reality at all times! Scrupulous frantic morality is necessary at all times !), and that this should not stop you. To explain a bit about this, the criticisms I’ve received have mostly fallen into two camps:

- “the wrong sort of charity” - one concern is PCRF are not able to promise that their work will never support Hamas supporters or their families. This has been raised as “PCRF support Hamas”. but genuinely, given the realities of conflict, it is not practical or sane to require that people bring proof of political affiliation when seeking healthcare for their children. I’m comfortable saying that this, like other risks of fundraising/donation, is always possible but not a major consideration for me.

- “the wrong sort of fundraiser” - conversely some people stated they’d prefer I support individual families seeking evacuation through GFMs. This is also fine but my choice in the charity was partly in thinking about families who do not have GFMs, and children who do not have families. I also felt, at the time of fundraising, that supporting healthcare infrastructure was very worthy in a different way - after all, at the time the same people doing GFMs were also using/needing what healthcare was available.

My shoulders are broad, and I’m comfortable with these criticism. I am fully aware that this is not a complete solution but I personally continue to support the charity. I am explaining this to indicate that there will always be criticisms; you must accept that you can only take a small piece of the fractal, and you must accept that quite a lot of the fractal was never in your gift to control.

The situation is constantly changing and with the departure of organisations there is genuinely less hope of materially restoring the infrastructure in Gaza. At the moment donations to PCRF will likely be mobilised to Lebanon. It may be that this speaks to you. It does still speak to me.

Ultimately while it’s important to do research, it is always going to become fractal, especially in conflict situations. Nobody’s ever going to be able to point to a perfect thing that will fix everything and absolve us of criticism, you know? You will always only be able to pick up a piece of the fractal.

Now moving away from “what I personally support” there are many people more informed than myself and I would like to direct you to them as well. @gothhabiba is someone I follow who has posted several very useful posts about this and has been extremely informative, and spent a lot of time and attention on this, so I would defer to the resources and fundraisers they’ve put together. Her response to a similar question has been “pick 1-3 personal fundraisers” - this is a piece of the fractal. At the moment if what you want to do most is “materially help people in Gaza” that seems like the best option.

Also he doesn’t post much on social media, but when you get the opportunity to read a scientific article or anything by https://x.com/sullivanprof it’s worth stopping and processing. To me, Richard’s life work really shows how a piece of the fractal unpacks to reveal the whole world. I think if you have emotional space to research, it’s honestly a good investment to read some of his “manifestos” on intersections of healthcare and conflict.

[beastsovrevelation]

Captured Angel

Michael Langdon x F!Angel!Reader

Contains: vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, elements of coercion, implied loss of virginity, blasphemy, hierophilia

“Good, you’re awake.”

A chill ran down your spine. You had awakened in an unfamiliar room. Your head ached, your wings hung limp, and your limbs were heavy. The air was soaked to the last thread in malice. It made you nauseous. Gritting your teeth, you dragged yourself up, your mind aflame with a single thought – you had to get out. You looked around, but before you could spot a way of escape, you felt a presence. Dark... Darker than the blackest night. Your heart froze in your chest, a taste of iron suddenly coating your tongue. Though you had not seen his face, you could recognize him anywhere. Seven heads. Ten horns. His honeyed voice left a cold, oily trace on your very soul as he spoke. You drew a deep breath, and spun around, to meet a pair of piercing blue eyes.

His lips crooked into a smirk. Holding your gaze, he moved towards you. You drew back.   

“Get away from me, filthy Beast...” you snarled.

Deep down, you loathed yourself for the instinctive reaction. You were a soldier. You had a duty to stand your ground, and instead, you cowered. He promptly crossed the gap between you two.

“Ah-ah!” he scolded, clasping your chin “That’s not very nice, now, is it?..”

You grimaced. Michael Langdon. How ironic, for Satan’s son to bear your General’s name. The one who cast him out... You hoped it hurt the Evil One greatly. Michael caressed your cheek. You winced, and pushed his hand away. Sneering, he grabbed you by the throat.  

“Why am I here?” you hissed through gritted teeth.

He glanced down at your heaving chest.

“You’re my captive” he purred “Isn’t it obvious?”

You swallowed. Struggling would only worsen your chances, you knew as much. His gaze darkened with hunger as he watched you – like a wolf, salivating at a wounded deer. Your guts had coiled into a tight knot, a sickly sweet taste coating your mouth.

“Why didn’t your bootlickers kill me?” you asked, not quite certain if you wished to know the answer.

A chuckle escaped his lips. The Antichrist’s lecherous expression made your blood boil. How dare the abomination touch an angel of the Lord, you thought. A strange sensation was budding between your legs, but you pointedly ignored it, just as you ignored the feeling of unease clawing at the back of your skull.   

“That would’ve been a waste...” Michael tilted his head “They thought a gift would please me. They weren’t wrong...”

You snarled, attempting to pull away.

“Get your putrid hands off me!”

He tightened his grip on your neck.

“Hush” he coaxed in a mockingly gentle voice “I’m not going to hurt you, angel.”

“Vile creature...” you spat.

He pulled you closer. You bared your teeth, as your face almost crashed into his. Though you did not need air, the pressure on your throat was beginning to make you dizzy. Every nerve in your body screamed to fight - your muscles   had tensed, prepared for combat. You might have broken away. Escaped this unholy place. You should have at least tried... But, perhaps because of the mist gathering over your mind, your legs trembled underneath you. You found yourself staring at his mouth. His breath brushed against your skin, warm and silken. Your pulse leapt into a frenzy.

Michael snuck his other hand under your clothes. The captors had stripped you of your armour, and taken away your sword, leaving only your linen tunic to cover you. His fingertips caressed your thigh, slowly creeping upwards. You held your breath as you felt him part the soft folds of your skin.

You had never been fondled like this before. Carnal pleasure was forbidden for your kind. You should be disgusted, you understood as much. Still, the electric-like impulse roused by his touch paralyzed you, preventing you from breaking his arm.

He stroked your entrance. You stifled a gasp, your intimate muscles tightened in anticipation. Your hole was beginning to well with slick. Taking your lack of resistance for a welcome, he slipped two fingers inside you. The feeling of his skin against your sensitive membrane made your head spin, and you barely held back from bucking your hips into his hand.

He let go of your neck, only to wrap his arm around your waist. Keeping you steady, he spread his fingers wider, straining you until it hurt. You shuddered. He massaged the velvety walls of your flesh, driving you to the edge of madness. Aware of how much satisfaction hearing your cries would give him, you clenched your jaw. His skin grazed against a certain knot of nerves, and you nearly sunk to the ground as your legs buckled from the bolt of stimulation. Still, somehow, you did not make a sound.

It only made Michael more determined. He fixated on your sweet spot, leaving you to desperately clutch the lapels of his jacket. His mouth lingered but a thread away from yours - you felt his heartbeat echo against your rib cage. He narrowed his eyes, and pressed his thumb to your clit. Overwhelmed, you drew a sharp breath.

“Enjoying yourself, aren’t you?..” he teased “What is it, my dear? What do you want, hm?”

He pushed a third finger into your dripping slit. You whined in pleasure muddled with despair.

“Speak up, angel” he demanded.

Virtue be damned. Something tameless had infected you. Caught in the furor of sin, you eagerly cast your innocence aflame.

“I...” you stammered “I want... I need you to ravish me...”

Michael threw you onto the bed, and climbed on top of you. Laying flat on your back, your wings sprawled open, you looked up at him, your eyes sweetly half-lidded. His knee shoved between your thighs, he ripped the front of your tunic open. You sighed as cold air brushed against your nipples. He placed his hands on your breasts, savouring the softness of your bare skin. His eyes aflame with lust, he took a moment to admire your flushed, helpless body. Biting your bottom lip, you pushed your chest into his touch. He grabbed you by the throat again.

“You’re mine” he snarled “Mine alone...”

Against your better judgement, you nodded. Your gaze wandered down to his crotch, causing your mouth to immediately water. Michael’s lips crooked into a sleazy smirk. He unbuckled his pants, and slipped his underwear down. Your eyes widened as his hard cock sprung free. Large, but not obscenely so. You pulled the skirt of your tunic up, leaving your aching cunt at his mercy.

He pinned you down under his full weight. You wrapped your arms around him, savouring the feel of luxurious fabric under your fingers. Like an animal in heat, you craved to feel him inside. His eyes locked with yours, Michael clasped your leg, and positioned himself more comfortably. You blindly caught hold of his member, helping guide it into your hole.

Your heart skipped a beat – you let out a moan as your membranes clamped around him. Hardly giving you a moment to adjust, he began to move. The sudden strain roused a twinge, but it soon was obscured by shattering pleasure. No longer holding back your mewls and whimpers, you sank your nails into his back. Should the expensive suit get ruined, it will be his fault.

Michael groaned, his teeth bared in primal satisfaction. Your response only encouraged him, and he quickly picked up the pace. Each thrust sent a shattering wave of pleasure through your fevered nerves. You wrapped your legs around his waist, welcoming them. He traced the tip of his tongue over your neck. You hissed as his long hair tickled you, overwhelming your senses even more. He purred, and nipped at your jaw.

“Kiss me” you demanded.

He obeyed, leaning down to press his mouth against yours. You parted your lips for him, and allowed your tongues to battle for dominance.

“Say my name” he ordered, upon pulling away.

“I can’t...” you gasped in horror.

“Your general isn’t here...” he growled “It’s just you and me...” he pressed his face to your temple “Say my name, sweetheart. Show the Beast how much you’re enjoying your downfall.”

He pulled his cock almost all the was out, then slammed it back in, roughly grazing your sweet spot. Your cried out, and sank your fingers into his hair. You didn’t want to think about her. You loathed to imagine her disappointment in you. But his presence eclipsed her face. Drowned it in the storm of ecstasy ravaging you.

“Michael!”

“Good girl” he praised with a grin.

Shock after shock of ecstasy tore through your body, setting every cell of it aflame. Your forehead was laced in sweat. Your muscles quivered from the tension. You were close. Very close. Turned feral by the pleasure, he grabbed you by the wrists, thrusting into you with merciless force.

“Michael...” you moaned.

You couldn’t stand it anymore. You arched your back, trembling and convulsing as a scream escaped your throat. Michael threw his head back with a snarl. You had grown painfully tight around him, prompting him to reach his own release. You felt him spill inside you – it was the strangest, most pleasant sensation  you had ever experienced.

You collapsed into the pillows, limp and gasping for breath. He slumped down on top of you. For a moment, you allowed yourself to soak in the glowing haze of bliss. But, just when he had crept off of you, and was about to pull you into his arms, you leapt up. Using his surprise for your advantage, you climbed onto him – this time, you were the one to pin him down. You caught his gaze, and drew a dagger from underneath your ruined tunic. Afraid to molest their master’s gift, the devil worshippers had missed it.

“You will find the men who captured me, crucify them, and bleed them like pigs” you growled, pressing the blade against his throat “Do you understand me, Antichrist?”

A drop of blood sept from under the metal, glowing against his milky skin in a warning.

“Yes” he murmured, as his eyes blazed with adoration.