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That’s what I take solace in—the images of fictional characters.
I’ve never been the type who asked my friends for help or told them about what I struggled with. Everyone sees me as the mother figure, the problem solver, and the listener.
Whenever I yearn to be listened to instead, nails dig into my chest, forbidding me from moving. From finding refuge in anyone but myself and fictional characters that don’t exist an...
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“So this is how good girls like you get off. Does being used in the middle of the night like a worthless fuckable hole turn you on, Lisichka?”
That dull, maybe not so dull, person has gotten herself the worst type of attention. Mine.
“If you want to touch me, all you have to do is ask. There’s no need to play hard to get for it.”
“I knew you’d taste like my new favorite meal.”
I move closer and study the names at the top of each, committing them to memory so that I can research what she likes to read.
He’s every fucked-up fantasy and more.
“You look so innocent, but that head of yours is a fucked-up place, Lisichka. My fucked-up place.”
🫠🫠🫠
Such a good girl.
Did Jeremy go down on me while I was out of it? This is so sick. Or it’s supposed to be, because the thought that he took me again, not caring whether I was awake or not, is kind of hot.
“I’ve been fantasizing about bruising and marking this skin while you shattered around my cock and screamed and whimpered because it was too much. But here’s the twist. You love it when it gets too much.”
Note to self: mark it again.
“Is this how you’ll milk my cock, too? It’s bigger, but you’ll fit me, won’t you? You’ll swallow and take every inch of me.”
“You’re mine, not anyone else’s, fucking mine. Now, beg and say my name.”
I appreciate the ease in his expression when he sees me and the softness in his voice when he says, “Sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’ll cut their wrists off before they come near my cunt.” He rips my underwear off and throws the shreds aside, then digs his fingers into my skin. “My ass.” He flings me against him and his jeans create friction against my stimulated core. “My fucking property.”
“I’m not your property, Jeremy. I’m a person.” “My person,” he nearly growls the words. “Next time you let anyone touch
you, I’ll fuck you in their blood and make you come all over their corpse.”
That’s my girl.
“How does it feel to be the second choice to me? In fact, you wouldn't have even been on her list if you hadn't stalked her.”
