p-nymph

[p-nymph]

Kathryn Hahn interview for 'Designing Hollywood: Pay Equity Now'. Watch it here.

[p-nymph]

Sorry for all the wait, I noticed your message a while ago only when the notification decided to show up (thank you Tumblr.) Also I vaguely remembered the scene, hope you'll enjoy 😊

A Matter of Practice (18+)

Lady Jessica x F!Reader

Content : smut, unprotected sex, oral sex, fingering, language, professor x student.

Sex will be a precious tool in your close future. And as any tool it has to be mastered to get the best results possible. Confessions whispered on the pillows, pleasure, ego boost. Apparently it gives everything, but takes a lot depending on the people and setting. Dignity ? Love ? Personal tastes ? You got warned : maybe you will have to let them aside for a night or more. Even for the rest of your life. In theory what happens in the sheets remains there, but of course the memory of your actions will affect your interactions with your husband.

"Take your clothes off."

You obey to this soft and neutral voice, your thin silky bathrobe falling around your legs as it reaches the mattress you are kneeling on. Lady Jessica got chosen to teach you all you need to know from the basics to most advanced aspects.

Still wearing her grey dress, she paces towards the bed, her hands clasped in from of her as her cold eyes take you in. From the most normal detail of your face to the ones of the rest of your body, nothing can escape her. You trust her to bring you the best teaching you can receive.

Her figure remains as stoic as ever as she walks around the bed. Maybe she is aware of your pounding heart, maybe not. However it must be impossible for her to miss the excited gasp you let out as she brushes your cheek with her fingers.

"Do you think your husband is going to be gentle with you ?" She asks.

"No. Not all the time."

"He is not going to show any softness to you before a while. And even if he does it will be an exception." She warns you in the same voice.

Jessica's hand slides down to your throat as you look up at the ceiling, then down to your bare shoulder.

"Moan." She asks.

You obey, your eyes still open. You do it several times, confused by the astonishing silence surrounding you. Are you doing it right ?

"Not like that." She scolds you. "That's not what we agreed on yesterday. Do it again."

The previous day had been strange, a mix of theory and a few more exciting things. Being surrounded by other women all the time you never really thought that hearing them moan and say dirty sentences could get you as warm as this.

As instructed you try again, this time closing your eyes. You perceive yourself as sensual, full of desire for your future husband. Thin, obese, blond, dark-haired, red-haired, bald, sweaty, smelly, clean, young, old... he has to feel your desire.

"No. Look at me. It's still not what I want from you."

Flustered by your failure you can't help yourself as you watch her dress falling down to the ground in silence, her pale skin appearing fully to you as she gets rid off her shoes with nonchalant motions from her ankles, throwing them away without adverting her gaze from you. She is proud, her chin up as she judges your reactions when her hands start to travel up and down her body. You envy her thighs, crotch, belly and breasts getting all this attention.

"I'm pretty sure you know your own body." She taunts you before kneeling on the mattress. "Your husband will like to discover it. You will have to judge whether or not he wants to see himself as taking your innocence away for himself, or if he wants to see someone more experienced."

"So some may be more interested in someone like... like I am right now ?"

"No matter what you will have to play a role. Never forget it."

You nod, your muscles tensing up as she gets closer to rest her hands on your bare shoulders.

"Do you want me to kiss you ?" You ask with a voice choking under pressure.

"What kind of husband would want to hear this during the night he is supposed to take you ?" She asks with a raised eyebrow.

Her question remains unanswered as you feel the back of her hand caressing your face now burning under the sudden shift of her expression. Never anyone has ever watched you with such care, softness, and temptation. Subtle signals you studied the day before : her pupils wandering everywhere with few breaks here and there seeming so natural, her bottom lip getting pinkish after she nibbles it, her cheeks blushing as she moans gently, her mouth closed. She knows what she is doing to you. Everything is so precise. How can sex have this effect when it is supposed to feel natural ?

"I'm waiting for you little one." She whispers as you gasp at the brush of her lips over yours. "I don't have all the time in the world."

"A husband that... would want an obedient, respectful and polite wife. A submissive one." You articulate as your eyes closes by themselves.

"Hm hm. Or that pretends to be one. Some men can have really singular tastes." She purrs.

Her nose grazes the side of yours, her soft breath distracting you as much as her hands massaging your breasts. She tests your flesh while hypnotizing you so well with the proximity of her lips.

"What do you do then ?" She whispers.

It depends of so many factors. Is this roleplay ? If yes then what kind of roleplay ? And if not then what personality has your husband ? Should you try to impress him with some position you only heard about yesterday with some drawings and comments from most experienced sisters ?

The night you will face the man you will have to share your night and life with, you will have to take a few decisions by yourself to please him as you should. So instead of feeding your inner turmoil further, you take the risk to kiss Lady Jessica, gently. You dissociate from her to mold into what you tried yesterday, remembering the way you exchanged these kisses with the other sister in front of everyone as a demonstration.

Jessica changes the angle slightly, her arms around your hips to get you closer as you cup her face with this hint of possessiveness you try to hide. There is a fire raging inside you, the one wanting to show how willing you are to learn new skills and to prove yourself. The kiss stops with a low wet sound, her eyes narrowed as she looks at your face closely.

"Not bad. Too shy. Try again. Touch me."

Her orders are respected. This time you press her against you thanks to your hand now on her bare back. Dissociation from the situation hits a brick wall though as you hear her approving moan and feel her hands going down. You panic a bit at the tongue presenting itself at your mouth but you let her do it.

"Touch me." She whispers firmly between two kisses. "Don't be afraid. Touch, test, arouse."

After a few pokes of her tongue at the tip of yours she decides to suddenly change the tone, her mouth leaving heated kisses on your throat. You feel about to implode as her tongue starts to lick you here and there and suddenly a flash of a pic showing a woman kissing her husband's manhood appears right before your eyes. Would it work the same on a woman ?

You moan at this thought - without pretending it this time - and earn some encouraging pat on your left asscheek. You moan again and choose this moment to grab her buttocks, taking care of pressing your crotch to hers. She may not have much curves but you can feel her flesh under the firm embrace your fingers apply to her buttocks.

Jessica's mouth leaves your skin, her cheeks blushed the slightest and her breath deeper than before. For a second you think she is going to say something but you silence her with a heated kiss you hope she doesn't find messy as you test her reaction to your tongue.

The woman moans loudly, her hands back on your face to take control over the kiss. She tames your tongue quickly.

"Some like it when you talk." She gasps against your lips as your hand wanders on her soaked entrance. "Talk, try to arouse your partner."

"Tell me if you like what I'm doing to you, please." You whisper breathlessly.

"Your husband won't necessarily like it." She scolds you out of frustration. "You are too polite."

"I thought you liked it when I was respectful and polite."

"Do you think you will even find anyone as tolerating as I am ? Because what you are doing is not respectful of my function there, you refuse to do things right."

"They sound right to me. Otherwise you wouldn't have gotten this wet with almost nothing."

"Watch your mouth."

If she really wanted to, she would stop you. Her and others already used the Voice upon you to get you where they wanted you to be. It would be easy for her to keep control over her thoughts to train you properly. So you show your egoistical side a bit by pushing your weight against hers, her balance soon recovered thanks to the mattress below her burning skin. You gain a few points from what you deduce from her raised eyebrow and open mouth. Or maybe this is all due to the warm wetness she can feel on her crotch as you let your hips grind gently against hers.

"Kiss me." She asks.

"What kind of husband would ask for this ?"

She remains silent for a few seconds, tension rising in your core as her eyes wander all over your naked body above her. It's not easy to guess what she is thinking about, but her body now responds to that desire of contact as she mirrors your motions by wrapping your hips with her long legs, your hips starting a heated danse. She has never looked so vulnerable yet smug as now, her cheeks pink, a thin layer of sweat appearing on her forehead, breathing deeply, that testing glare and that infuriatingly cocky grin.

"Is that curiosity or insubordination?" She taunts you.

"Genuine question and..."

You can't end your sentence. You are no match to her as your breath gets erratic. Her clit is now rubbing against yours and maybe it's due to your lack of experience or all that build up but you feel overwhelmed by how good it feels, nothing like her who simply stares at you with envy.

"It feels good right ?" She whispers between your gasps and moans. "Now imagine it even more intense inside you, to the point where your body can only give up on pleasure. You are absolutely not ready to pleasure an insatiable man. Not a woman neither. It's nothing to what I could be doing to you with my fingers and tongue."

"Teach me." You beg shamelessly as you rest your hand on either side of her head to balance yourself.

Between the sudden vertigo and pleasure washing over you you are almost certain that reality just collapsed, but you soon realize that you got forced to roll over the mattress due to the mere strength of her hips. The whimpering mess you are can only force herself to watch her grinding effortlessly against your crotch, her hips undulating so easily. The only details giving away her own pleasure is her closed eyes and tiny smile.

"You are the one having to learn. You should be the one pleasuring the other."

"Jessica..."

Your head falls back into your pillow, your back arches off the bed as to make your moan leave your lips more easily, and you don't stop despite her low chuckle, your hands trying to push her off your pulsating clit.

"Endure it. You'll have to live through that little one," she tells you breathlessly, "keep morning and accept it's they love it when a beautiful woman gets crazy for their cock."

It takes you several trials to finish your sentence and you finally get it as you keep folding in every position you can despite being trapped under her.

"Please Jessica let me do that to you." You whisper hastily.

You sit up suddenly like in a jolt, your muscles burning under the effort it takes to do it. Her hands grab your shoulders to force you to lie down but you resist and kiss her hastily. It isn't enough to make her stop, her own breath struggling to keep its cool as her tongue finds yours eagerly.

Hers moans are getting louder and you understand how close she is to her own release, enough for you to get your hand down to her crotch, letting her rub against your palm.

"No give it to me." She whines angrily with a murderous glare. "Never do that to your husband when he can't have enough of you."

You shut her mouth by kissing her again, and following the instructions from yesterday, you insert a finger inside her. It's not that different from when you do it to yourself, but feeling her own walls contracting around it is pleasing.

Offended, she stares at you with her hands on your cheeks. For a second you think she is about to kill you but she kisses your throat and caresses your back gently, her breasts pressed against yours.

"You're not supposed to do that, "she moans faintly, "you should let me finger you. Your husband could do it to you."

"I want to."

A second finger gets inside her, her eyes now clouded as she shakes her head.

"You shouldn't." She whispers before swallowing hard. "You shouldn't, we have a precise planning to respect and..."

She bites her lip as you start a quick pace, and soon enough her own hand starts to do the same to you, making you gasp out of expectation.

"Let me show you what an experimented husband can do." She snarls.

She actually stops you right there by rolling to the side without stopping her ministrations inside you. Too busy by the sight of her long and thin fingers thrusting inside you, you can't repress a moan when you witness them moving up to your clit, circling around it before she settles her mouth at your entrance.

You have seen plenty of images and videos of women tasting their husband, but Lady Jessica makes it feel even better with all the care in the world. With her it's like she kisses and licks you innocently when in reality you can feel her tongue getting inside you to gather your wetness coating your pulsating walls.

"What does that feel so good ?" You ask to no one in particular.

She scoffs before resuming her actions, this time her mouth closing over your hole to get a better access, both of her hands spreading your legs further.

Your demanding body doesn't waste time for this second orgasm to set your nerves on fire. Desperate moans are getting usual from your mouth.

"Get up."

You weren't expecting the Voice to get used but you obey, blinking when you notice yourself kneeling between her spread legs, Jessica lying before you with her entrance soaked, her own fingers rubbing her reddish and erected clit.

"Show me what you can do with your tongue if you think you are so talented."

You taste her immediately before getting interrupted, a thin string of saliva breaking when she pulls you up by your hair.

"Don't be gentle and focus on my clit."

You nod, somewhat shy now that she is running her fingers through your hair to encourage you. But you do as instructed, too excited to stop.

It's good to feel her reacting to your tongue. Lady Jessica is supposed to be stoic all the time and the mess she is turning into has nothing to do with her previous state. Now you can hear her genuinely pleased moans, your name getting whispered, you feel her body pressing harder against the mattress as her hips tense up. She is begging. Would a husband do such a thing ? You don't think so. Is it educational ? Definitely not anymore. It's her turn to be egoistical.

"It's perfect." She whines as you suck on her pulsating flesh. "You learn fast."

A warm wave that has nothing to do with a climax reaches your core as you listen to her pleasure getting moaned out loud, her body not knowing what to do as you keep torturing her so delightfully. But instead of having the joy of listening her beg for you to stop pleasuring her you feel the one of hearing her begging for you to keep going. Her stamina is something else from yours.

After reaching her limit your jaw hurts so much that you can only kiss her gently, her arms grabbing your body firmly to keep you against her. As she doesn't seem disgusted by your mixed tastes you keep kissing back, loving the way she cups your head with her soft hands.

"It didn't go exactly as planned," she chuckles after a series of kisses, "but after all the important is that you get the basis for this time."

"Was it good ?" You ask sheepishly.

"For a first time, pretty good." She admits with a taunting grin. "You'll get better after some proper training. At least if you get a husband that likes women taking decisions in bed you may get a chance. But it's still not the best you can offer."

You nod, feeling exhausted yet strangely euphoric. There was nothing to be afraid of after all. It was for your own good and for the Bene Gesserit. It's always good to learn.

"Your husband won't be able to have the same stamina as a woman, despite what they like to pretend. They can't enjoy it as much as we do. Plus, he might not even give you any pleasure at all." She says as your hopes crumble apart. "Most won't go past two rounds. You, you can develop your stamina for much more. If you get one with a weak spirit you can manipulate him through sexual gratification. Once exhausted people tend to confess a few interesting things. Doubts, fears, political plans."

The bubble that surrounded you previously pops. True. Real life doesn't consist only in pleasure. Your tasks will be way above sex.

- - -

Thank you for reading please comment and reblog if you liked it ! 😊

[p-nymph]

Sorry for all the wait, I noticed your message a while ago only when the notification decided to show up (thank you Tumblr.) Also I vaguely remembered the scene, hope you'll enjoy 😊

A Matter of Practice (18+)

Lady Jessica x F!Reader

Content : smut, unprotected sex, oral sex, fingering, language, professor x student.

Sex will be a precious tool in your close future. And as any tool it has to be mastered to get the best results possible. Confessions whispered on the pillows, pleasure, ego boost. Apparently it gives everything, but takes a lot depending on the people and setting. Dignity ? Love ? Personal tastes ? You got warned : maybe you will have to let them aside for a night or more. Even for the rest of your life. In theory what happens in the sheets remains there, but of course the memory of your actions will affect your interactions with your husband.

"Take your clothes off."

You obey to this soft and neutral voice, your thin silky bathrobe falling around your legs as it reaches the mattress you are kneeling on. Lady Jessica got chosen to teach you all you need to know from the basics to most advanced aspects.

Still wearing her grey dress, she paces towards the bed, her hands clasped in from of her as her cold eyes take you in. From the most normal detail of your face to the ones of the rest of your body, nothing can escape her. You trust her to bring you the best teaching you can receive.

Her figure remains as stoic as ever as she walks around the bed. Maybe she is aware of your pounding heart, maybe not. However it must be impossible for her to miss the excited gasp you let out as she brushes your cheek with her fingers.

"Do you think your husband is going to be gentle with you ?" She asks.

"No. Not all the time."

"He is not going to show any softness to you before a while. And even if he does it will be an exception." She warns you in the same voice.

Jessica's hand slides down to your throat as you look up at the ceiling, then down to your bare shoulder.

"Moan." She asks.

You obey, your eyes still open. You do it several times, confused by the astonishing silence surrounding you. Are you doing it right ?

"Not like that." She scolds you. "That's not what we agreed on yesterday. Do it again."

The previous day had been strange, a mix of theory and a few more exciting things. Being surrounded by other women all the time you never really thought that hearing them moan and say dirty sentences could get you as warm as this.

As instructed you try again, this time closing your eyes. You perceive yourself as sensual, full of desire for your future husband. Thin, obese, blond, dark-haired, red-haired, bald, sweaty, smelly, clean, young, old... he has to feel your desire.

"No. Look at me. It's still not what I want from you."

Flustered by your failure you can't help yourself as you watch her dress falling down to the ground in silence, her pale skin appearing fully to you as she gets rid off her shoes with nonchalant motions from her ankles, throwing them away without adverting her gaze from you. She is proud, her chin up as she judges your reactions when her hands start to travel up and down her body. You envy her thighs, crotch, belly and breasts getting all this attention.

"I'm pretty sure you know your own body." She taunts you before kneeling on the mattress. "Your husband will like to discover it. You will have to judge whether or not he wants to see himself as taking your innocence away for himself, or if he wants to see someone more experienced."

"So some may be more interested in someone like... like I am right now ?"

"No matter what you will have to play a role. Never forget it."

You nod, your muscles tensing up as she gets closer to rest her hands on your bare shoulders.

"Do you want me to kiss you ?" You ask with a voice choking under pressure.

"What kind of husband would want to hear this during the night he is supposed to take you ?" She asks with a raised eyebrow.

Her question remains unanswered as you feel the back of her hand caressing your face now burning under the sudden shift of her expression. Never anyone has ever watched you with such care, softness, and temptation. Subtle signals you studied the day before : her pupils wandering everywhere with few breaks here and there seeming so natural, her bottom lip getting pinkish after she nibbles it, her cheeks blushing as she moans gently, her mouth closed. She knows what she is doing to you. Everything is so precise. How can sex have this effect when it is supposed to feel natural ?

"I'm waiting for you little one." She whispers as you gasp at the brush of her lips over yours. "I don't have all the time in the world."

"A husband that... would want an obedient, respectful and polite wife. A submissive one." You articulate as your eyes closes by themselves.

"Hm hm. Or that pretends to be one. Some men can have really singular tastes." She purrs.

Her nose grazes the side of yours, her soft breath distracting you as much as her hands massaging your breasts. She tests your flesh while hypnotizing you so well with the proximity of her lips.

"What do you do then ?" She whispers.

It depends of so many factors. Is this roleplay ? If yes then what kind of roleplay ? And if not then what personality has your husband ? Should you try to impress him with some position you only heard about yesterday with some drawings and comments from most experienced sisters ?

The night you will face the man you will have to share your night and life with, you will have to take a few decisions by yourself to please him as you should. So instead of feeding your inner turmoil further, you take the risk to kiss Lady Jessica, gently. You dissociate from her to mold into what you tried yesterday, remembering the way you exchanged these kisses with the other sister in front of everyone as a demonstration.

Jessica changes the angle slightly, her arms around your hips to get you closer as you cup her face with this hint of possessiveness you try to hide. There is a fire raging inside you, the one wanting to show how willing you are to learn new skills and to prove yourself. The kiss stops with a low wet sound, her eyes narrowed as she looks at your face closely.

"Not bad. Too shy. Try again. Touch me."

Her orders are respected. This time you press her against you thanks to your hand now on her bare back. Dissociation from the situation hits a brick wall though as you hear her approving moan and feel her hands going down. You panic a bit at the tongue presenting itself at your mouth but you let her do it.

"Touch me." She whispers firmly between two kisses. "Don't be afraid. Touch, test, arouse."

After a few pokes of her tongue at the tip of yours she decides to suddenly change the tone, her mouth leaving heated kisses on your throat. You feel about to implode as her tongue starts to lick you here and there and suddenly a flash of a pic showing a woman kissing her husband's manhood appears right before your eyes. Would it work the same on a woman ?

You moan at this thought - without pretending it this time - and earn some encouraging pat on your left asscheek. You moan again and choose this moment to grab her buttocks, taking care of pressing your crotch to hers. She may not have much curves but you can feel her flesh under the firm embrace your fingers apply to her buttocks.

Jessica's mouth leaves your skin, her cheeks blushed the slightest and her breath deeper than before. For a second you think she is going to say something but you silence her with a heated kiss you hope she doesn't find messy as you test her reaction to your tongue.

The woman moans loudly, her hands back on your face to take control over the kiss. She tames your tongue quickly.

"Some like it when you talk." She gasps against your lips as your hand wanders on her soaked entrance. "Talk, try to arouse your partner."

"Tell me if you like what I'm doing to you, please." You whisper breathlessly.

"Your husband won't necessarily like it." She scolds you out of frustration. "You are too polite."

"I thought you liked it when I was respectful and polite."

"Do you think you will even find anyone as tolerating as I am ? Because what you are doing is not respectful of my function there, you refuse to do things right."

"They sound right to me. Otherwise you wouldn't have gotten this wet with almost nothing."

"Watch your mouth."

If she really wanted to, she would stop you. Her and others already used the Voice upon you to get you where they wanted you to be. It would be easy for her to keep control over her thoughts to train you properly. So you show your egoistical side a bit by pushing your weight against hers, her balance soon recovered thanks to the mattress below her burning skin. You gain a few points from what you deduce from her raised eyebrow and open mouth. Or maybe this is all due to the warm wetness she can feel on her crotch as you let your hips grind gently against hers.

"Kiss me." She asks.

"What kind of husband would ask for this ?"

She remains silent for a few seconds, tension rising in your core as her eyes wander all over your naked body above her. It's not easy to guess what she is thinking about, but her body now responds to that desire of contact as she mirrors your motions by wrapping your hips with her long legs, your hips starting a heated danse. She has never looked so vulnerable yet smug as now, her cheeks pink, a thin layer of sweat appearing on her forehead, breathing deeply, that testing glare and that infuriatingly cocky grin.

"Is that curiosity or insubordination?" She taunts you.

"Genuine question and..."

You can't end your sentence. You are no match to her as your breath gets erratic. Her clit is now rubbing against yours and maybe it's due to your lack of experience or all that build up but you feel overwhelmed by how good it feels, nothing like her who simply stares at you with envy.

"It feels good right ?" She whispers between your gasps and moans. "Now imagine it even more intense inside you, to the point where your body can only give up on pleasure. You are absolutely not ready to pleasure an insatiable man. Not a woman neither. It's nothing to what I could be doing to you with my fingers and tongue."

"Teach me." You beg shamelessly as you rest your hand on either side of her head to balance yourself.

Between the sudden vertigo and pleasure washing over you you are almost certain that reality just collapsed, but you soon realize that you got forced to roll over the mattress due to the mere strength of her hips. The whimpering mess you are can only force herself to watch her grinding effortlessly against your crotch, her hips undulating so easily. The only details giving away her own pleasure is her closed eyes and tiny smile.

"You are the one having to learn. You should be the one pleasuring the other."

"Jessica..."

Your head falls back into your pillow, your back arches off the bed as to make your moan leave your lips more easily, and you don't stop despite her low chuckle, your hands trying to push her off your pulsating clit.

"Endure it. You'll have to live through that little one," she tells you breathlessly, "keep morning and accept it's they love it when a beautiful woman gets crazy for their cock."

It takes you several trials to finish your sentence and you finally get it as you keep folding in every position you can despite being trapped under her.

"Please Jessica let me do that to you." You whisper hastily.

You sit up suddenly like in a jolt, your muscles burning under the effort it takes to do it. Her hands grab your shoulders to force you to lie down but you resist and kiss her hastily. It isn't enough to make her stop, her own breath struggling to keep its cool as her tongue finds yours eagerly.

Hers moans are getting louder and you understand how close she is to her own release, enough for you to get your hand down to her crotch, letting her rub against your palm.

"No give it to me." She whines angrily with a murderous glare. "Never do that to your husband when he can't have enough of you."

You shut her mouth by kissing her again, and following the instructions from yesterday, you insert a finger inside her. It's not that different from when you do it to yourself, but feeling her own walls contracting around it is pleasing.

Offended, she stares at you with her hands on your cheeks. For a second you think she is about to kill you but she kisses your throat and caresses your back gently, her breasts pressed against yours.

"You're not supposed to do that, "she moans faintly, "you should let me finger you. Your husband could do it to you."

"I want to."

A second finger gets inside her, her eyes now clouded as she shakes her head.

"You shouldn't." She whispers before swallowing hard. "You shouldn't, we have a precise planning to respect and..."

She bites her lip as you start a quick pace, and soon enough her own hand starts to do the same to you, making you gasp out of expectation.

"Let me show you what an experimented husband can do." She snarls.

She actually stops you right there by rolling to the side without stopping her ministrations inside you. Too busy by the sight of her long and thin fingers thrusting inside you, you can't repress a moan when you witness them moving up to your clit, circling around it before she settles her mouth at your entrance.

You have seen plenty of images and videos of women tasting their husband, but Lady Jessica makes it feel even better with all the care in the world. With her it's like she kisses and licks you innocently when in reality you can feel her tongue getting inside you to gather your wetness coating your pulsating walls.

"What does that feel so good ?" You ask to no one in particular.

She scoffs before resuming her actions, this time her mouth closing over your hole to get a better access, both of her hands spreading your legs further.

Your demanding body doesn't waste time for this second orgasm to set your nerves on fire. Desperate moans are getting usual from your mouth.

"Get up."

You weren't expecting the Voice to get used but you obey, blinking when you notice yourself kneeling between her spread legs, Jessica lying before you with her entrance soaked, her own fingers rubbing her reddish and erected clit.

"Show me what you can do with your tongue if you think you are so talented."

You taste her immediately before getting interrupted, a thin string of saliva breaking when she pulls you up by your hair.

"Don't be gentle and focus on my clit."

You nod, somewhat shy now that she is running her fingers through your hair to encourage you. But you do as instructed, too excited to stop.

It's good to feel her reacting to your tongue. Lady Jessica is supposed to be stoic all the time and the mess she is turning into has nothing to do with her previous state. Now you can hear her genuinely pleased moans, your name getting whispered, you feel her body pressing harder against the mattress as her hips tense up. She is begging. Would a husband do such a thing ? You don't think so. Is it educational ? Definitely not anymore. It's her turn to be egoistical.

"It's perfect." She whines as you suck on her pulsating flesh. "You learn fast."

A warm wave that has nothing to do with a climax reaches your core as you listen to her pleasure getting moaned out loud, her body not knowing what to do as you keep torturing her so delightfully. But instead of having the joy of listening her beg for you to stop pleasuring her you feel the one of hearing her begging for you to keep going. Her stamina is something else from yours.

After reaching her limit your jaw hurts so much that you can only kiss her gently, her arms grabbing your body firmly to keep you against her. As she doesn't seem disgusted by your mixed tastes you keep kissing back, loving the way she cups your head with her soft hands.

"It didn't go exactly as planned," she chuckles after a series of kisses, "but after all the important is that you get the basis for this time."

"Was it good ?" You ask sheepishly.

"For a first time, pretty good." She admits with a taunting grin. "You'll get better after some proper training. At least if you get a husband that likes women taking decisions in bed you may get a chance. But it's still not the best you can offer."

You nod, feeling exhausted yet strangely euphoric. There was nothing to be afraid of after all. It was for your own good and for the Bene Gesserit. It's always good to learn.

"Your husband won't be able to have the same stamina as a woman, despite what they like to pretend. They can't enjoy it as much as we do. Plus, he might not even give you any pleasure at all." She says as your hopes crumble apart. "Most won't go past two rounds. You, you can develop your stamina for much more. If you get one with a weak spirit you can manipulate him through sexual gratification. Once exhausted people tend to confess a few interesting things. Doubts, fears, political plans."

The bubble that surrounded you previously pops. True. Real life doesn't consist only in pleasure. Your tasks will be way above sex.

- - -

Thank you for reading please comment and reblog if you liked it ! 😊

[p-nymph]

"You might not believe in the prophecy but you are a part of it."

Rebecca Ferguson as Lady Jessica in "Dune: Part Two" (2024) dir. Denis Villeneuve

[p-nymph]

REBECCA FERGUSON - "Dune: Part Two" premiere in NYC | February 25, 2024

[p-nymph]

Well, hi there.

Rebecca Ferguson as Rose the Hat DOCTOR SLEEP (2019) - dir. Mike Flanagan

[p-nymph]

[p-nymph]

Rebecca Ferguson as Lady Jessica in Dune 2021 / 2024.

[p-nymph]

Rebecca Ferguson at the “Dune: Part Two” premiere, New York, February 25, 2024

[p-nymph]

No idea why these twisted but fearfully affectionate fics comfort me so much with the slightest touch of dread in my tummy … but still so deeply comforting

Taken

Chapter: 2

Words: 2180

Warnings: diapers. Toxic Natasha. Mean Natasha. Let me know if I missed anything.

Summary: Deep deep down, Natasha knew this was wrong. Taking someone against their own free will was borderline psychotic, let alone very much illegal. But she couldn't help it. After months upon months of watching your every move, she'd become convinced that you were only person perfect enough to become her daughter, and she would do whatever it takes to have you, no matter the consequence.

You were startled awake by the gentle touch of someone's hand resting upon your shoulder. Your eyes rip open, and you instinctively try to sit up. Your wrists ache in dismay, and a silent stab of fear fills you when you remember where you were.

"It's okay," Natasha soothes as she sits herself down on the bed next to you, removing her hand and reaching for something placed on the nightstand. When it comes back into view, it held a water bottle, and you watch the woman unscrew the cap before your head was elevated and the top was brought to your lips.

You sip the water carefully, and when a trail of water dribbles down your chin, you try not to flinch as Natasha's hand comes up to wipe it away.

"Good girl," Natasha recaps the water and places it onto the floor next to her feet, "are you hungry?"

You weren't. There was still a deep ache of terror lingering in your stomach, ominous thoughts of the unknown squirming at the back of your mind. Just the mere thought of food made you feel nauseous, so although you may regret your decision later, you shake your head.

"Okay, that's fine. You can eat something later. Should we get you dressed and ready for the day?"

Natasha tugs off the blankets from around your body, baring your lower half to the cool temperature of the room. You couldn't help but shiver, a chill flowing throughout your body and littering your skin with goosebumps.

"I know it's cold," Natasha acknowledges as she folds up the blanket and sets it near the footboard. "I'm going to un-cuff your hands and untie your feet, and then I'm going to carry you into the bathroom so we can brush your teeth. I suggest you don't test me with trying to escape. It'll only end badly for you. Do you understand me?"

Your heart lurches to your throat as fear flutters in your stomach, and you find yourself nodding without even realising you were doing it.

"Good girl." Natasha unties your feet first, and you remain as still as a statue as the woman reaches up to un-cuff your wrists. A shot of adrenaline flows through you once you were free, and your pulse skyrockets.

It was as though your brain was daring you to disobey Natasha, but your body refuses to act upon it in fear of punishment.

A deep sense of uneasiness holds you rigid as Natasha arms slide beneath you to sit you up, and you could do nothing more than stare down at your bare legs. The skin around your ankles was red and irritated, and each movement of your wrists shot an ache of pain up your arm.

"Does it hurt?" The woman takes your wrists into her grasp and gently trails the pad of her thumb over sore, inflamed skin.

You hesitate, but tentatively nod. The urge to pull your hands away from Natasha's was all but dire. The touch of the woman's skin against you own made your stomach clench uncomfortably. It was like a terrible sickening dread, almost like sharp needles jabbing at your skin.

It was unlike nothing you'd ever felt before.

"We'll fix that soon. Come on, up you get." Natasha places her arms underneath your armpits and pulls you up onto your feet. Your legs tremble beneath you as the woman reaches into her pocket and pulls out a silk rope. It was red, and looked to be from an old robe.

"Hands up and together," Natasha instructs, and though her voice was calm and held no sense of anger, your stomach flips with fear and you find yourself instinctively complying with the woman's instructions.

Like she'd done it a hundred times before, the woman expertly wraps the silk rope around your wrists before securing it off into a secure knot.

She then, in a surprising show of strength, lifts you up into her arms like you weigh no more than a child, and you couldn't help but yelp in surprise at the feeling as you instinctively cling to the material of Natasha's shirt as much as your bound wrists would allow.

Natasha's arm comes to rest beneath your backside to keep you supported, and with a downward gaze, you come to the horrible realisation that you were wearing a diaper. An internal furnace flushes on your chest and cheeks, and you want nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole.

You swallow hard, trying your best to ignore the new found tightness in your throat.

"Now," Natasha sets you down on the counter next to the sink, "we're going to brush your teeth and make them nice and clean." After grabbing a toothbrush and squeezing out a pee sized amount of toothpaste, she cups your jaw and squeezes gently, a silent instruction for you to open.

Your throat bobs in a futile effort to hold back your tears, "I can do it. Please." You beg, voice sounding choked.

Natasha raises an eyebrow, "Little girls don't know how to brush their teeth. Don't make me ask you again. Open." She squeezes your jaw once more, the pressure a silent warning.

With the tightening of your throat and a short intake of breath, you open up your mouth and soon feel the bristles of the toothbrush begin to graze across your teeth. A single drop of grief wells up from the corner of your eye and as you blink, it tickles your cheek on its journey down your face. Natasha seems unfazed, though the thumb of the hand cupping your jaw swipes over the wetness effectively wiping it away.

After being instructed to spit and rinse, you were carried back through to the bedroom and laid down in the centre of the bed. With the knowledge of what was coming, your vision blurs with the onslaught of yet more tears making it difficult for you to see clearly, and an involuntary whimper escapes your lips.

"Your shirt is fine to wear today," Natasha tells you as she pulls open the dresser drawer and rummages inside, "but we'll find you some new pants."

You just about find it in you to nod. As you lay and stare up at the ceiling, your bladder makes itself known for the first time in hours with an almost overwhelming urge to pee. You glance towards Natasha, who was now making her way towards the bed, and wonder whether or not you'd be allowed to use the bathroom.

Natasha sits herself down next to you, and as she begins to slide the pair of leggings up your legs, you take the chance and hope to god

"I need...I need to use the bathroom." You admit as an emotional state of intense discomfort fills you.

Natasha raises a questioning eyebrow as she grasps you by the arms and pulls you up into a sitting position, "Then go." 

By her words alone, one would think she was giving permission for you to get up and use the toilet, but her body language was telling a completely different story. There was a look of warning in her eyes, and the corners of her lips were quirked up into a dangerous smile. It tells you that if you even move a single inch off of this bed without permission, you'd be in trouble. 

But you were not about to use the diaper, so your only choice was to hold it.

You let out a quiet yelp of surprise as you were yet again pulled to your feet, unsure eyes peering up at the woman who was already looking down at you.

"We're going downstairs," Natasha explains as she places a hand against your back and lightly pushes you forward. "It's time for breakfast." The woman types in the code to the door so quickly your eyes were unable to make out any of the numbers, and you give yourself a silent reminder to pay more attention next time because as soon as you got the pin, you were one step closer to making it out of here.

A firm hand remains on your back as you were guided down an unfamiliar hall towards a large set of stairs, your feet silent on the carpeted floor beneath you. The echo of Natasha's shoes was the only audible sound, and you sniffle softly as you make it to the bottom of the stairs and towards what seems to be the kitchen.

A slightly larger than average highchair was the first thing that greets you, and you stare at the foreign object in pure horror as you feel two steady hands slip beneath your armpits and lift you off of her feet. You were held against a firm body with a secure arm around your waist as the woman easily pulls the tray off.

"N-no. I don't want to." You whimper as you squirm in the embrace in a futile effort at getting away. A warning pat against her the side of your thigh was enough to halt you in your tracks, the familiar sensation of tears making your eyes sting.

"No, you probably don't. But little babies sit in high chairs." Natasha says in a soothing tone as she sets you down into the cushioned seat, buckling you up with a five point harness. You watch in pure horror as your bound hands were secured too, leaving you well and truly trapped. Shiny eyes drift up to meet Natasha's own, and the woman smiles softly as she cups your cheek.

You stubbornly pull your face out of the woman's grip, but Natasha seems unfazed as she head over to the refrigerator and begins pulling out everything she would need to make breakfast.

Whilst your kidnapper does that, you take the opportunity to take in your surroundings. The kitchen you were currently in was large. Probably bigger than your whole entire apartment put together. It was all white and marble; expensive looking and despite the circumstances, rather beautiful. It was quite empty though, no appliances or decorations.

Empty, just like your kidnappers heart.

You also notice that there were no windows, so you couldn't see the outside.

Your eyes find themselves drifting over to Natasha when the sound of a refrigerator door closing fills your ears, and you frown when you see the woman heading your way securing the lid of what looked to be a sippy cup. It was pink with a fairy on the front, and you eye it unsurely Natasha holds the plastic teat to your mouth.

"Open." Natasha instructs, and you frown as you move your head away. No. You weren't a baby.

"Y/n," Natasha warns, an intimidating brow raised in warning. "Open.”

"I said no!" You scream as you throw your head back, kicking your legs out in frustration. One of your sock clad feet hit Natasha's shin with a thump, and you couldn't help but smile when you see the woman wince slightly. Said smug grin was wiped from your face when the look on Natasha's face turns almost deadly, and you let out a quiet cry of fear when a large hand cups your face.

The grasp was tight, not so much as to hurt you, but definitely enough to feel uncomfortable. You swallow heavily as your eyes that had been forced to meet Natasha's own pool with tears.

"We can do this the easy way, or the hard way little girl," Natasha prefaces. "You can either drink your milk and eat your breakfast like a good girl, or we can head straight up to my office where I'll take you over my knee for a good spanking. You've already earned yourself a time out for kicking me, and I promise you little girl, you do not want to add to that. Do you understand me?" She squeezes your face slightly.

As you stare up at the woman in what could only be described as unbridled pure terror, you feel the unmistakable sensation of your bladder releasing itself into the diaper without permission. Your blood runs cold, and you tremble slightly as you let out a quiet sob. They grow in volume when you feel Natasha lift you out of the highchair, fearing that she was going to keep her promise and spank you like she'd said.

But you don't leave the room. You were simply lifted into Natasha's arms, legs limp around her waist and a steady hand beneath your behind. You freeze against her as the woman begins patting your back, your body still trembling slightly in both fear and the aftershocks of your sobs.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." Natasha murmurs as the gentle hand on your back coaxes you forward so that your chest rests flush against her own. And you end up falling against her, your cheek resting on her shoulder as Natasha's hand grazes softly across the length of your back.

**

I’d love to hear your thoughts!!

[p-nymph]

Taken

Chapter: 1

Words: 3077

Warnings: kidnapping, dark Natasha, diapers and a brief mention of throwing up. Let know if I need to add anymore!

Summary: Deep deep down, Natasha knew this was wrong. Taking someone against their own free will was borderline psychotic, let alone very much illegal. But she couldn't help it. After months upon months of watching your every move, she'd become convinced that you were only person perfect enough to become her daughter. She would do whatever it takes to have you, no matter the consequence.

Natasha stares into the fire. It crackles and glows with a radiant gold flame, the smell of burning wood filling her senses. In her hand was a glass of her favourite red wine, the rich liquid velvety on her tongue.

The outside was piercing in contrast to the heat before her. The empty skies were a dull white, and freshly fallen snow was covering all the eye could see. Everything was quiet, muffled, the atmosphere holding a sense of serenity the summer months did not have. It was peaceful and calming, a cherished few moments Natasha allows herself to have in the evenings after a hot bath full of bubbles and her favourite music.

The dancing flames of the fire could be seen in Natasha's eyes as she finishes her wine, setting the class down onto the coffee table with a soft, barely audible thump. She sits back against the couch and tightens the grey, fluffy blanket around her shoulders, eyes drifting to the clock in the corner of the room.

11:35

It was nearly time.

*

The busy street was quietened by a large blanket of snow, a carpet of cotton batting falling everywhere you looked. As you walk your usual journey to work, it crunches loudly beneath your feet. Your fingers and toes feel numb and are beginning to ache, and you could see the misty fog escaping your lips with each exhale. The trees were rocking back and forth, creaking and groaning just like the sound of an old rocking chair.

One positive about rising this early in the morning was being able to hear the birds on the street. They fill your ears with soft chirps, and you find it almost impossible not to smile at the sound.

Behind you, you hear the sound of a vehicle approaching. Your senses were almost immediately on red alert. The road you were on was almost always deserted. It was narrow and only one way, and you knew there was no reason for anyone to be coming this way this early, especially in a car when the snow plow hadn't even been through.

Your breathing accelerates, and you feel yourself begin to sweat despite the freezing temperature. You try your best not to outwardly react and continue on your way, but the car behind you slows the closer it gets, and you feel yourself become almost paralysed with fear.

You close your eyes for a second and practically force a deep breath into your lungs. You then speed up your pace, knowing that even if the person in the car means no harm, it was better to be safe than sorry.

When you hear the car door open and shut, the fear becomes a tangible, living force that creeps over you like some hungry beast, and it immobilises you, raising the fine hairs on the back of your neck. Your legs pick up on their own accord, but it was no use.

Someone grabs you, and the scream of pure terror that escapes your lips was muffled by a large, cold hand. You flail your body; you kick, you scratch, but your attacker was stronger, larger, and it was evident you stood no chance.

The hand was soon replaced by a cloth, and your senses almost immediately become a blur. Your eyes become heavy, your body becomes a deadweight, and despite the last ditch effort to escape, everything fades into nothing.

*

When you come to, your disoriented brain takes a few moments to catch up with the events that had just concurred.

You notice you were no longer outside. You were on a bed, and the mattress beneath you was soft and comfortable. The jeans and coat you had on were no longer, replaced by a pair of pyjamas much like a toddler would wear.

Your eyes flicker almost subconsciously around the room. The only light came from a slit between the curtains at the window, the feeble brightness barely enough for you to make out anything.

You did, however, note that the room was of medium size, adorned with white furniture. You couldn't make out any sort of decorations, but the door held a single lock with a touch screen pad.

You stare at it for a moment, and something in your brain seems to click bringing your subconscious to the realisation of what had happened. You'd been kidnapped, someone had taken you.

An immediate feeling of dread creeps up from the pit of your stomach, and your pulse beats in your ears blocking out all other sound.

You could feel your fight or flight responses kick in, increasing your heart rate and flooding you with added adrenaline. You try to sit up, but something was pinning your wrists down. It tugs at your skin uncomfortably, and when you look up, you see that you'd been handcuffed, each metal circle attached to the wooden headboard of the bed.

At the sight, your fear only grows more. You try to scream, but when you open your mouth, you come to find that even words had deserted you. It leaves you to release a choked sob, and you feel hot wet fluid begin to dribble down your legs, a bastion of warm comfort in a moment of primal terror.

The door opposite beeps in warning before it opens, and you feel your stomach grip in protest as a women comes into view. She was tall, and her pose screamed power. Her broad shoulders were held high, but her eyes, a soft green in colour, were gentle, and full of warmth.

The stark difference would have confused you if it wasn't for the sense of overwhelming dread.

"Hi little one. I'm glad to see you're finally awake," The woman speaks in greeting as she locks the door behind her, "I was beginning to grow a little worried." She adds as she flickers on the small night light that was plugged in near the bed before easing herself down next to you.

It bathes the room in a soft glow finally allowing you to finally take in your surroundings.

You couldn't help but tremble in complete and utter terror as your eyes burn with the familiar sensation of tears.

"It's okay," the woman soothes in a soft coo as she reaches for something to your left. "I know you must be scared, and I'm sorry about that." Her hand returns into view holding a tissue, and you flinch almost violently as the woman makes gentle work of drying your cheeks.

She doesn't outwardly react to it, but her features soften and her touch gentles further. You still shift uncomfortably, and it prompts the woman's eyes to flicker down towards the lower half of your body.

When they take in the large wet spot beneath you, your skin prickles with the fear of the unknown. But the woman simply shakes her head, a playful, yet gentle glint in her eyes.

"We'll fix that," was all she says as she disposes of the soiled tissue, grabbing a small bottle of hand sanitizer from seemingly nowhere and squeezing a small amount out onto her hands, "my names Natasha, but you may only call me mama. I'm going to be looking after you from now on."

You simply stare, trying to mask your emotions and pretend like you weren't mere seconds away from emptying your stomach in complete disgust.

"And you're Y/n, right?" Natasha continues, staring at you with a look that tells you she was expecting an answer.

You manage a mere nod, not wanting to upset the woman by defying her. Right now, you had no idea what Natasha was capable of, and you didn't want to provoke her in any kind of way by disobeying.

Natasha smiles in satisfaction as she rises from the bed and heads over to the white dresser placed in the corner of the room, "You were out for a while, so I suspect you must be pretty hungry. I have dinner made, and you may have it once we have you nice and clean." When she turns, you see she was holding a familiar rectangle of padded cotton.

Your cheeks burn, but you soon come to the daunting realisation that the woman must have already seen you naked due to the unfamiliar pair of pyjamas you were currently adorned in.

The bile in your throat worsens when you realise that Natasha could have done absolutely anything to you, and you feel yourself begin to gag in both fear and absolute dread.

Your vision becomes blurry, and as you try your best to keep your last meal down, you distinctly feel one of your hands become free if it's confines. Your body was then turned sideways just in time for you to vomit up absolutely everything in your stomach.

"There there, I've got you. You're okay." A muffled voice fills your ears as a hand gently grazes up and down your back, and having those hands on you only furthers your disgust and you find yourself puking once again.

You want to tell Natasha to get the hell off of you. That how dare she touch you after what she'd done, but there were no more words left in you. You could barely find it in within you to remain conscious, and you deem that more important right now. You had to stay awake. You had to try and protect yourself.

"Are you done?" The voice questions, and you nod ever so slightly. You feel a soft hand grasp your own and raise it once again to rest above your head, the cold cuffs once again circling your wrist.

Through your blurry vision, you see Natasha leave the room, and you allow yourself a moment to close your eyes and get yourself together.

When the women returns, you note she was wearing different clothes. You internally smile in victory when you realise you must have puked on her.

Serves her right.

"Okay, let's get you changed." Natasha sits herself down at the end of the bed, and it was only then do you notice that your feet were tied up too.

"I'm going to untie your feet, but if you even so think about kicking me or harming my furniture, I'm going to leave you in your wet clothes for the rest of the night, do you understand?" Natasha's hand rests on the rope tied securely around your ankle, and though the eyes staring at you were still the same soft ones as before, this time, they held a look of warning.

A warning you did not want to test. Not right now when you were still in such a vulnerable position where this woman could so absolutely anything to you and you'd be powerless to stop it.

And so you nod, despite everything in you telling you to fight with all you could.

Your heart races as Natasha unties your feet, legs subconsciously moving of their own accord and rising to a bent position where your thighs were pressed against your stomach.

The woman allows this, and when her hands reach for the waistband of your pyjama pants, your fight or flight instincts break.

You begin to flail your body as much as you could, the woman's prior warnings dissipating into the back of your mind. You had to get out. You couldn't let Natasha do this to you.

Despite your attempts, the woman gets your pants off anyway.

"No!" You finally find your voice, and it comes out hoarse, trembling with fear, "no! Let me go. Let me go!" You cry out as your stomach heaves with sobs.

"Hush now," the woman lightly scolds as she successfully manages to slide the diaper beneath your squirming figure, "There is no need for you to get so upset. I am not hurting you, so I suggest you calm down before I keep my promise and put you right back into your wet pants."

You still at the threat, but you continue to sob. Tears flow down your cheeks, blurring your vision and soaking your hair. Gut-wrenching sobs that tear through your chest fill the otherwise quiet room, and you want nothing more than for all of this to just stop.

You want to go home. You want to be curled up on the couch with your mom watching your favourite movie.

Not here. Not here where you're being emotionally tormented with all the things you no longer have; where you no longer have your independence and would be subjected to the unknown.

"There, all done." You hear, and you once again feel your legs being secured into their former positions. The sheet beneath you was pulled off next, replaced by a dry one with quick and efficient ease despite your presence on the mattress.

Natasha then shifts up the bed slightly, her weight tipping the mattress as her hand comes up to cup your cheek and wipe away the tears.

You flinch, but allow it to happen. The woman obviously knows what she wants, and it was becoming evident nothing you did would stop her.

"No more tears now," another soft coo as a gentle thumb continues to trail over your skin, "you're okay little one. Deep breaths."

You shake your head, "I want...I want to...go home. Please...let me...go home!" You cry as you extraneously squirm to get out of your confines.

Through your blurred vision, you see Natasha shake her head, and your body was wracked with another onslaught of sobs, complete hopelessness converted into tears that pour down your face at lightning speed.

"I know that must be upsetting for you to hear, but you'll get used to it. I'm going to get your dinner. I expect you to be fully calm by time I get back." Natasha once again wipes off your cheeks, the material of the tissue rough against your skin.

You try your best to comply with the woman's wishes, your throat tightening in dismay when you force back the sob that so desperately wants to escape.

Natasha smiles as she gives your leg a soft pat before rising to her feet, "Good girl."

You say nothing, but Natasha doesn't seem to mind. She disappears from the room and returns a short while later carrying a tray that held a glass full of water and a bowl of what appears to be soup.

"You haven't earned the right to feed yourself just yet, so I'm going to do it for you." The woman explains as she sets the tray down onto the nightstand, picking up the bowl along with a plastic spoon.

Soon, said spoon was being held to your mouth, the plastic warm against your lips. 

You stare at the woman for only a short moment before reluctantly allowing your lips to part, and Natasha smiles as she places the spoon into your mouth. It was soup, but due to your blocked nose, you couldn't tell which kind it was.

You don't particularly care however, because you weren't in the slightest bit hungry after throwing your guts up just a few moments ago.

"Good girl. Is that yummy?" Natasha coos as she refills the spoon and once again holds it to your lips.

It wasn't, but you nod anyway as you open your mouth and allow yourself to be fed. You were scared if you told the woman any different, you'd be punished and tied up for longer. If you couldn't get away from Natasha, you at least wanted out of these stupid cuffs.

Natasha smiles happily, "I'm glad. Mama worked hard and there's lots more if you're still hungry."

Your stomach churns in disgust at the woman calling herself that, but you nod along, fear constricting you from acting upon your thoughts.

Soon, the bowl was empty, and you watch as Natasha sets it down and picks up the glass of water. You go rigid when Natasha places her hand on the back of your neck to elevate your head, hating the feeling of her touching you.

"Drink." Natasha prompts, and you quickly down over half of the water in the glass.

The woman sets the glass back next to the bowl and reaches for the blanket that was folded and placed over the footboard of the bed, "It's late. Time for bed." She shakes it out and lays it over your body.

"There's a baby monitor placed on the shelf up there, and it can see and hear you. If you need anything, I want you to call for me. I can't help you if I don't know anything is wrong." She brushes the hair saturated with tears out of your face before tucking it behind your ear.

You force yourself to nod.

Natasha smiles and gives your cheek one last gentle touch before rising to her feet, picking up the tray before heading towards the door, "Goodnight little one." She calls softly before leaving the room.

You don't reply.

*

Sleep does not come easy.

Fear prickles at the base of your spine each time you feels yourself beginning to drift off, a terrible sense of anxiety creeping over you at every little sound you hear.

The light thud of footsteps, the branches of the trees outside hitting the glass windows. Even the sounds of the house settling were unnerving, and no matter what you did, the subconscious of dreamland just didn't want to come.

A part of you wonders if anyone had realised you were missing. You keep to yourself mostly. Didn't have many friends or acquaintances. The only person you did have was your mom, and it had been nearly six months since the effort had been made for a visit. You decide that no, no one would have noticed, and because of your tendency to stay locked up in your apartment for weeks on end, no one would for a while leaving you to Natasha's mercy.

A part of you wants to call out for her. You want to beg her to be un-cuffed so you could at least try and get comfortable. But fear prevents you from doing so. It prevents you from even opening her mouth, so all you could do was lay here until morning comes.

A brand new day would greet you, and your nightmare would continue.

**

Your thoughts would be appreciated! ♥️

[p-nymph]

Need her in a way that would set back feminism by 8 decades

[p-nymph]

 Kathryn Hahn and Ethan Sandler © Northwestern Alumni Association

[p-nymph]

Long time no post.

Trying to be a mentally sane person in a relationship means speaking out your thoughts and then eating spicy shit and dunking your face in cold water in order to regulate your messed up brain cause in this house we work on ourselfs to deserve a peaceful relationship

#just bpd things #BPD life #bpd problems #BPD

[p-nymph]

BPD coded

Vision: May I ask you for a favour?

Wanda: I would literally die for you but sure.

Vision: We need to talk about you starting your sentences like this.

[p-nymph]

Vision: May I ask you for a favour?

Wanda: I would literally die for you but sure.

Vision: We need to talk about you starting your sentences like this.

[p-nymph]

Melina and Agatha Headcanons

warnings: NSFW and SFW headcanons are below so 18+

a/n: im on my Melina BS again might as well also with Agatha someone let me ramble about these milfs

sfw:

they love it when you're in the middle of them sleeping

Melina is an early bird while Agatha sleeps in

" Cmon honey you and me are gonna go get a workout in"

" Mel can I sleep in with Aggie 🥺🥺🥺"

Agatha can't deny your puppy eyes but Melina easily can't be convinced ( sometimes)

Learning Russian with her when Agatha is at work, with cute flashcards she claims she didn't make

You pretend to not know but her handwriting is definitely hers.

Agatha tries to teach you self-defense as a means to protect yourself when both of them aren't there with you.

Ended with one of Melina's vases almost being broken, a bad bruise on your leg and Agatha being lectured.

" Agatha! you could have hurt our sólnyshka "

" I wanted to show them some moves i learned from Wanda babe, I didn't expect y/n to not move"

Leads to Melina properly showing you some moves from back in the day ( lol )

Agatha loves teaching you witchy stuff whenever she has free time, Melina of course there to “ supervise “ even tho she’s not a fan of magic.

Both you and Melina getting distracted by Agatha’s fingers

Weekly date nights with each of of you rotating who plans it

Yours are always so chaotic

Melina’s are for the most part having to do with drinking 😭

Agatha’s are cute and soft ahhhhhh

Both are so touchy all the fucking time I stg

Girlies love language is touch

Melina loves to have you in her lap in the living room, wrap her arms around your waist and just feel you.

Agatha on the other hand loves having your head in her lap while she’s runs her fingers through your hair 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Agatha is the baker and Melina is the cook

Nsfw:

Both are switches

They’ve lived busy lives, of course they want to give up control every once in a while.

Also both are kinky mfs too soooooo the sex is always so gay and so hot and so nasty in a good way.

Melina calls you her little princess, darling or when she’s feeling mean whore, slut.

Agatha for the most part the same thing along with superstar and baby.

Melina loves going by mistress or miss

Agatha loves mommy 😩😩😩

If Melina is ever topping the both of you , she goes feral for having you eat out Agatha while she fucks your pussy.

“ look at you kitten , look so nice licking up your mommy. Cmon now, you don’t wanna be a bad girl and disappoint her huh ?”

Sex toy collection goes crazy

Especially since Melina can add so many gismos and gadgets.

Not to mention Agatha can enchant any toy with magic at any chance.

Firmly believe Melina is well kept down below while Agatha has a bush 😌 sue me

After care is the best with both of them especially after a busy night

Melina at first wasn’t used to it but Agatha slowly taught her wife 🥺🥺🥺