#i just have to go do it like i have to force myself to do all the other things i’m afraid of | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rafesslxt · 3 days

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✧.* 𝑭𝑨𝑽𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬 𝑨𝑭𝑭𝑨𝑰𝑹 | 𝑺𝒂𝒎 𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒓𝒐𝒆

summary: you and Sam have a secret affair while your bf is his enemy. when you call him to pick you up in that slutty outfit of yours, he shows you what you‘ve missed while partying. - based on this request

warnings: smut!, arguing, cheating, mention of alcohol, smoking, oral (on both), unprotected p in v, cum, choking, orgasm denial, breeding kink, 69 position, dirty talk, dom!Sam but still whimpering here and there bc you cannot tell me he wouldn't

words: 6,5k (bro WHAT) + it‘s 5am so sorry for typos i‘ll correct later

"Don't tell me you're wearing that!" Sam's voice echoes through my room when he stares with jaw down at the dress I changed into. "Sam, it's none of your concern." I sigh, combing lightly through my curls so I don't separate them too much.

It was supposed to be a mistake, a drunken slip, a one time thing. It's been three weeks now and I can't force myself to pull away from the grip he has on me and I don't think he even knows how powerful that grip really is.

It's like I can finally breath again when I'm with him, even If it's never for long or outside our rooms. Currently he's at mine. He came over when I told him I'm getting ready for a party and well - one thing led to another and now he's sitting on my bed with his clothes back on (imagine it like in the picture at the top) watching me getting ready again.

"Are you gonna fuck him?" he asks, jealousy dripping from his voice. "No." I shake my head and glare at him through the mirror. I'm sitting in front of. Since I started sleeping with Sam I didn‘t let him touch me and Sam knew.

I notice him standing up from my bed and slowly stalking over to my chair. He leans down so his head is at the height of my ear. "| want him to fuck you, so you know I can do it better." he almost demands, suddenly tugging my head back with a hard grip on my curls I just styled so perfectly.

"Sam!" I hiss and roll my eyes at him while he still holds my head back. "You're gonna listen to me m'kay?" I gulp and loom at him through my long lashes, batting them at him. He leans closer again and I see his face upside down from my position.

"If you leave wearing that, then the second you come back I'll bend you over everything possible."

I feel the heat creeping up my neck upwards my cheeks, leaving a slight red tint behind. "You belong to me, don't forget that." he mumbles against my lips so soft that you could think he just said the most beautiful thing but his hard grip in my hair reminds me of the opposite.

I know he's obsessive, possessive, jealous. Kind of funny when you think about the fact that he's the affair with me having a boyfriend. And on top of that, his biggest rival. "Enemy" how my boyfriend James would always say.

James. He's the complete opposite from Sam. Mean, bully, rich, entitled, popular, typical jock. I forgot a long time ago why I am in a relationship with him in the first place.

I remember how he alway told me to stay away from Sam when I met him in the cafeteria in school for the first time. Not even a minute after James came and dragged me away from him, not without insulting Sam for speaking to me of course. I smiled at him apologetic, not understanding what was supposed to be wrong with him.

James said Sam's a lot into drugs and stuff but I didn't care. Half of the school is and as long as he's not harming others with it, I really couldn't care less.

I feel Sam's lips ghosting over mine, teasing me with with his hot breath. I love how he kisses me. It's always so full of life, passion and longing. When James kisses me it's just eager, sloppy and wet. Sam kisses like his life depends on it. As If he can't breathe properly but when his lips touch mine.

"Sam.." I breath out in a whiny tone. "Dress like a slut and I'll treat you like one. I don't kiss sluts." he whispers against my lips before pulling away and letting go of my hair. I sigh in frustration when he let's go of me and apply my blush with a pout on my face.

I hear him chuckle behind me, he probably saw the look on my face. "Don't pout angel, write me when you're on your way home later alright?" he grins at me, putting on his shoes and opening my window to climb out of it. I roll my eyes at him playfully, hiding a smile with it when I already feel the excitement in my chest knowing I'll see him later.

And with that he climbs outside and closes the window behind him, winking at me before walking away. It's a miracle to me how he tells me I'm a slut and how he calls me angel the next minute. He always does this, making me feel alive, giddy, like a fucking teenager.

Wait, I am a teenager. But I mean like a teenager with no experiences or one that never talked to a boy before.

I concentrate on my face in the mirror again, applying my favorite lipgloss before I take my purse and throw the lipgloss in it. "Bye Mom!" I shout through the house when I open the front door, hearing her calling me to have a good time and not come home too late.

I love her, she's not too strict and understands me, not forgetting how her life was when she was young like me. But at the same time she would kill for me and protect me from everything. It's a great balance. She trusts me and I don't overstep boundaries.

When I arrive at the party I dressed up for, I can already smell the alcohol and weed from a mile afar through my car window. I roll it up and park a few houses further away when I see everything full of cars.

But what did I expect right? It's James, I mean everyone in either jealous of him or of me because they wanna be with him. If they only knew how easy I would trade that ticket. So of course his birthday party would explode of people. He lives in a big house, his parent's house of course but I think he mentioned something of them being on vacation for two weeks.

I grab the birthday present that rots since two weeks at the backseat of my car and get out of it, making sure that I closed the doors properly. My stomach wrenched and the closer that I get the more my head is starting to get dizzy from all the weed clouds around me.

I greet a few people that I know, hug some of my 'friends' from our friend group and slowly get inside. The air inside is a little better but still smells like alcohol and sweat from the dancing body's in the big living room. "Y/N!" I hear someone shouting over the music. I turn around and notice James' best friend coming towards me.

"Hey Mike, how are you?" I ask him trying to be polite but the truth is the more seconds passed, the more I wanted to throw my gift at James and get the hell out of here. There was a time were I loved nights like these right I front of me. Where I was one of the dancing body's sweating and drinking, sometimes even smoking. But now I just felt so - out of place.. wrong.

"I'm good, I'm good. I guess you're looking for your boyfriend? He's in the backyard with the rest." I smile at him and nod, thanking him for telling me before I watch him disappearing back into the crowd.

I let out a deep breath. I got this. It's just one night. A few hours, right? And then I'll be at Sam's. God I have to stop thinking about him like that, he's just.. sex, right?

I walked into the kitchen, looking for something to normal to drink but of course they only bought alcohol. I took a red plastic cup and filled it up with tap water, taking a big chuck from it, trying to calm my nerves a little. Oh fuck it. I grabbed a whiskey bottle and filled my cup up with Pepsi and the alcohol in my hand. Yeah, that's better for calming nerves. I mean, I'm already here so why not try to have at least a little fun.

With the drink in my hand I leave the kitchen and open the glass doors t the back yard where James is supposed to be. And doesn't take me long to find him with 'the rest' how Mike said. 'The rest' is usually our friend group. I like them, I really do. But they're just.. not that deep. It's fun to party with them, go to school with them - well the ones that don't skip all of their classes, and maybe even talking about little problems like arguing with parents or fights with boyfriends and girlfriends. But that's as far as it goes.

Maybe that's the reason why I feel so comfortable around Sam. I remember the first night we had sex, he lit up a J afterwards and asked me If I wanted to. I shook my head and sat on my rooftop with him, watching the stars. I never talked to him a lot before, like I said James kept me far away from him, but still we talked abut everything that came to our minds.

Aliens, the universe, the stars, the whole fucking galaxy. How does everything work? Is the government telling us everything? Are there already people on our earth that don't come from here? Maybe it was the weed, but I don't think so. It felt natural to talk with him. Having a good laugh for the first time win months.

My heart starts to race when I think about that night with him. Sometimes I wonder If I'm - no. That couldn't be. It can't be. He would never also. Right?

I get thrown out of my thoughts when I feel two arms sliding around my body from behind. "Hey baby." a deep voice whispers into my ear. I know it's James. I smell his cologne and obviously I recognize his voice. His breath smells like alcohol, a lot alcohol.

"Hey James. Happy Birthday." I force a smile on my lips and turn around in his grip. He kisses me and cups my face in his hands, squeezing my cheeks together. "Thank's babe. Why are you standing here tho? Come on let'S go to our friends." He takes my hand into his and pulls me towards a little chill lounge where everyone sat with drinks or J's in their hands. "Hey guy's!" I greet every single one of them before sitting down next to my boyfriend.

"Here, for you." I smile at him and give im his present. "Thank you baby." he smiles brightly when he opens it and see's what's inside. "Hell yeah!" he grins and pulls out a pair of shoes. To be honest, I don't know what's so special about him but I knew he talked 24/7 about them with Mike and how hard they are to get to I asked a friend of my dad who had a lot of connections when it was about fashion.

"They are great, thank you baby." He gives me another kiss, sloppy and a little too wet. God how I missed Sam's lips and - no. "Yeah, no problem." I answer, trying to hold my smile up.

The night went by slow, my mind racing with the wrong thoughts when you're considering I'm sitting right next to my boyfriend. He has his hand on my thigh, and his other one around his red cup filled with liquor.

At some point I started to take drink after drink, probably not being able to drive later. I took out my phone, reading some messages I have gotten. Two from my best friend Lisa, who lives in New York, sadly, and one from Sam. My heart starts racing again so I take another sip from my drink before opening it.

"How's the party going?"

I try to hide a smile when suddenly a evil little idea gets to my head. Everyone around my was busy ding something so no eyes were on me when I took a photo of James hand on my thigh and send it to Sam with a little message.

"How I wish it was your's."

I bite the inside of my cheek when I wait for an answer, not expecting it to come as quick as it does.

"Is that you'r way of showing me how sorry you are for ging out like that?"

I swallow down the clump in my throat and try to ignore the bad feeling in my stomach. Is he mad? Was it a bad idea to send him a picture? I know he's a jealous type but I already have too much alcohol in my veins to be reasonable.

I lean backwards against the lounge I'm sitting on and take another picture. This time of my face and cleavage not letting a lot to the imagination. I bite down on my bottom lip and smirk into the little camera of my phone, looking up as innocently as possible.

"How about I show you how sorry I am later?"

What I don't know is how Sam's breath got stuck when he saw my message. He looked at it, imagining how he would rip that damn dress off and fuck me through the whole night. His hand wanders down to his hard cock, massaging it slightly through his sweatpants. A quite moan leaves his lips when he stares at the way I bite down on my lip. "Little minx." he mutters to himself when he closes the picture and let's go of his boner.

"Trust me, you'll be sorry. Have fun at your little party, angel."

With a smile on my lips I put my phone away again, grabbing my cup. "Why're you smiling like that? Who texted you?" the voice of James ask me, making me jump a little. "Huh?" I look up at him when he towers his head over me a little. " I saw you texting and smiling. Who texted you?" he repeats himself, a serious look on his face.

I sigh when I knew how this would go. I mean, he's right and If we're being honest, I'm cheating on him There's nothing romantic or noble behind this. He's right. But at the same time, he was jealous in a little meaner way than Sam is. I never cheated on James before and even two years ago when we started dating, he always accused me of cheating on him or texting other boys when in reality I've never done such a thing.

Oh, there even was a rumor once that he cheated on me with a girl from our friend group, Amanda. She's nice. But also knew it was true that she had an eye on James.

"Lisa texted me." Well, that wasn't a lie. "Oh yeah? And what made you smile about it?" he asks, glaring at me. I roll my eyes at him and look away, knowing he hates it. So I'm not really surprised when he pulls my face back into his direction and repeats himself again.

"What made you smile, y/n?" "Oh my god she's my best friend and lives in another state! I was just happy she texted me!" I groan annoyed and stand up from my seat, his hand dropping from my thigh. "Where are you going?" he calls after me but also doesn't make any attempt on following me so I ignore his words and walk back inside through the house and up some stairs that I know lead to a bathroom.

When I get inside I lock the door behind me and let out a deep breath. I pull my phone out of my purse and look for a certain name in my contact. I hold it against my ear when it starts ringing on the other side. Not even two rings later he picks up.

"What's up, angel?" Sam smiles into the phone. "Miss you.." I mumble into the phone, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub behind me. I hear him chuckling. "Then leave, it's that easy." "You know its's not." I argue, pouting while looking into the mirror over the sink. I run a finger over the corner of my mouth, taking off a little of my smudged lipgloss.

he sighs into the phone now too so I continue talking. "he's gonna ask where I'm going and then will insist on one of his friend bringing me home just so he knows I'm not going anywhere else. And If I go without telling him he'll literally stand in front of my house after at least an hour."

"Break up with him." he says. "What?" I gasp, surprised he said that. I mean yes it is obvious that I should but not one time one of us really spoke these words. "You're not happy with him and you'll never be. You should find someone where you are." Someone. I don't know if it's the feeling slowly creeping up my neck and spilling over after holding them in for so long or simply the alcohol but I only scoff and roll my eyes.

"Yeah, right. Someone." my voice sounds cold and distant, pissed. "Y/n was you know what I mean.." "No, Sam. Actually I don't" Silence. And another sting I feel in my heart.

"See you, Sam." I chuckle sarcastically and press the red button on my phone. Not a second later I hear someone knocking on the door. "Y/n? Are you inside??" I groan when I hear James voice. God why can't he just leave me alone.

I stand up from the bathtub and walk over to the door, unlocking it. "Oh, Mike." I say, realizing it's not James. "Uh- James told me to look after you." "Oh, great? And he couldn't do it by himself?" I scoff, pushing past his best friend. I hear him sigh too and walk after me. "You know how he is." "An asshole?" I state, looking at him. He just grins and shrugs. "It's fine. I just wanna be alone for a moment, okay?" "Okay." He nods slowly and leaves.

I really don't know why he's keeping up with James bullshit. He's way too smart and nice for all of this. Well, just like me.

Still annoyed I wander through the hall of this ridiculous huge house, scanning all these portraits and pictures on the walls. My parents are rich too, really rich but this is just.. hideous A family of 5 living in a house as big at the fucking White House.

My mind races with thought when I suddenly hear voices whispering and giggling. I knit my eyebrows and try to be as quiet as possible to hear them again. They lead me to a big door to which I press my ear against. I recognize the voices but I couldn't quite put my finger on who they were so nosy me slowly opens the door a little just to take a little peep.

I didn't expect to see what was I front of me. My boyfriend. And Amanda. Making out on a couch. "When are you finally breaking up with her?" I hear Amanda whine like the little bitch she is. "I don't know. I told you this is just a one time thing Amanda." he answers.

What is going on? "One time thing? You're telling me four months are a one time thing for you?" she argues back. What did she just say? Four months? I close the door and take a step back.

I mean I know I'm cheating on him too. I'm no saint. But fucking four months? At the same time, I go inside myself for a moment and try to feel anything. But nothing. Not a single tear, not a single ache in my heart. I feel.. relieved? Am I crazy? My boyfriend of two years cheats on me and I feel relieved?

I quietly walk back down the hall, back down the stairs to the party. It's over. It's fucking over. I feel a smile creeping up my face when I walk outside into the backyard again. "Hey y/n, everything good?" A girl named Jessy asks me. I smile at her, almost laughing. "I'm feeling as good as never before." A giggle slips out my mouth when I sit down and take another drink from the table. They share a few looks but I couldn't care less.

I take out my phone and open the chat between me and Sam. Just now I see he texted me right after our phone call.

You know what I meant y/n.

It's complicated.

Please don't ignore me.

Are you still coming over later? I miss you

Miss your tight litte pussy around my cock

I roll my eyes at the last message but chuckle.

Oh and I know you just rolled your eyes at that

Wanna see your pretty (your eye color) eyes roll back when I fuck your attitude out of you

I quickly type in my answer, sending it with no regret now.

Can you come pick me up Sammy? I'm drunk and I want you, please.

Of course angel. Where do you want me to park? The street before the main?

Just park in front of the house

He was surprised at my massage but shrugged it off.

Alright. Gonna be there in 30.

I tucked my phone away again, taking in a deep breath. The excitement crept up in my chest again. Now that I knew James cheated on me too, I had a much less guilty for doing it with Sam. Old me would have ripped her hair out when I saw her sitting on my boyfriends - ex-boyfriends lap. But you know what? Let her have him. I know he's bad in bed. Let her realize one day she's off better.

After only fifteen minutes I heard them coming outside together, giggling slightly before sitting back down and pretending nothing happened. I played dumb and smiled at James. "Hey, where have you been? I looked for you." Yeah, let him sweat a little. "Oh uh- I looked for you too, I've sent Mike to tell you." he grumbled, glaring at his best friend.

"Hm, weird. And why did you came outside with her?" I point at Amanda, who looks at me like a deer in the lights. "She uh- she helped me. She helped me looking for you.." he stumbles over his own words.

I just nod when I felt my phone vibrating.

I'm here. Drove faster.

I smile at Sam's message and stand up without saying a word. "Where are you going?" James asks, this time following me. Amanda and Mike stand up too, following him like fucking puppy's.

"Home." I say, shrugging with my shoulders without looking at him. " You're drunk. Let Mike drive you home, he didn't have that much." he tries. "Oh don't worry, my drive is already here silly." I giggle, my stomach tingling in the best way possible when I see Sam's car lights through the windows.

"What do you mean?" James asks me mad, walking a bit faster now to keep up with me. I walk through the living room again and then outside the front yard where I see Sam leaning against the passenger seat door.

Before walking towards him I stop and turn around. "James, it's over. I'm not mad at you okay? I did the same. I'm just so relieved that you obviously feel the same about our relationship." He looks at me dumbfounded. "What are you talking about?" I roll my eyes and laugh at his words. "Oh come on. I saw you and Amanda and I heard you too and don't even try to deny it please cause I'm fucking someone else too."

I see the anger creeping up his face, ignoring the fact that he's cheating on me completely. "WHAT? Who the fuck are you talking about?" Then it hits him. He looks at me and beside me in the distance, he recognizes Sam standing against his car.

"You've got to be fucking kissing me you dumb slut!" he starts shouting and insulting me but I turn around and walk to Sam. I notice him looking at me confused but I just straight walk towards him, push myself against him and kiss him with all the passion inside me, in front of everyone.

I hear James yelling in the background, Mike probably holding him back. Sam's lips move against mine, his hands wandering up my sides, gripping the flesh beneath his fingers. "Fuck, what's that all about huh?" he mumbles against my lips, pulling away slightly.

Out of nowhere I feel the heat pooling in my stomach, yelling at me to finally fuck him. "I want you Sam. Want you to fuck me stupid." I had to giggle, I can't stop it. God he has to think I'm ging literally crazy but he just bites his lips and pushes me inside his car, driving off with me.

"What happened in there?" he chuckles and gazes at me for a second before returning his eyes back to the road in front of us.

"You'll never believe! When I hang up I wandered around the house and found him with Amanda, making out and her saying that they are fucking for four months now. And I - I just felt so free all of a sudden. No tear no anger, nothing. Just free." I ramble my words down, smiling the whole time.

"So I got you for myself now huh?" I don't know why but my cheeks burned like hell when he said that. Did he want me for himself? I mean yeah well who wants to share but like- does he want me or want me?

When we arrive his house, he parks in front of the house, helping me out of the car and inside the house. "Your Dad home?" I whisper to him when we walk up the stairs to his room. He shakes his head and grins devilish. "He's camping or something. Means you can be as loud as you want, angel." I bite my lip at his comment and rush upstairs with him, him basically throwing me onto his bed but upside down, so my head is at the edge of the bed.

"Remember what I told you If you go out in that outfit, I'm gonna fuck you over everything possible?" he remarks with his voice so raspy in my ears. I bite down on my lip again, nodding and trying to hide a smile but failing miserable. "This will be the last time you're laying on this bed for tonight." he grins down at me and leans down towards my lips, licking over my bottom lip before kissing me.

I hum against his lips when I feel him nibbling on mine. When he pulls away his breathing gets heavier. Is he just as excited as I am? He puts a hand on my cheek and strokes the skin with his thumb. "You're gonna be a good girl, angel?" "Hmm of course."

"Good, then do what I say, alright?" he half demands. I see him opening his belt, and pulling down the zipper of his jeans. "You got me so fucking hard you have no idea." he chuckles while pushing everything in the way down.

No matter how often I see his cock, it always amazes me again how big he is, his pretty pink tip leaking pre-cum. He takes a step closer to the bed again and grabs my arms, pulling me so much that my head hangs over the edge. "You're gonna suck my cock and maybe I'll play with you." I nod eagerly and open my mouth for him, ready to take him in.

He takes his dick into his own hand and rubs it teasingly against my lips, biting down on his own lip. I sneak out my tongue and lick off the salty essence from his tip, letting it slide over and over it again.

"Hmm.." then out of nowhere, he pushes in, almost choking me with it. His eyes roll back before he moves his hips, fucking my mouth without giving me a moment to get comfortable. "Shit, it alway surprises me how well you can take it. Let's see how far you can." he groans, pushing his hips deeper.

I try to breathe through my nose and concentrate on pleasuring him, hoping he would reward me for it. "I'm gonna fuck your throat baby, 's that alright?" he asks before pushing in deeper after I nod slightly. "Oh fuck.." he let's out a deep groan and closes his eyes. "I can see my fucking dick in your throat baby. God that's so hot."

His gaze wanders over the rest of my body until he sees my purse beside me, my phone fallen out of it. He leans forwards, choking me even more and takes it into his hands. I see him start taking pictures of it and smiling at them like a artist who just found his muse.

Tears start forming in my eyes due the feeling of him choking me every few seconds. "Fuck you look so pretty when you cry baby but that's your fault hm. Got outside like a little slut. Remember, you act like one, I'll treat you like one." he repeats himself.

I move my tongue up and down at the side of his cock, massaging the prominent vein he has. I hear him whimper slightly, his tough facade faltering a little.

He let's his hands wander over my body, massaging the flesh beneath my dress, pinching my nipples through the fabric making me whine around his cock. "Fuck you like that, right? Think I'm gonna reward you for listening so good." he slowly pulls out his cock and let's me catch my breath. I cough a little and swipe away the tears that started to run down my face.

He looks at me expectingly and raises one of his brows. "Thank you." I choke out to which he nods and leans over my body, pulling up the front of my dress. I hear him chuckle when he notices the wetness soaking through my underwear. "You get off on sucking my cock?"

His fingers ghost over my aching clit, teasing it through the fabric. I whine out loud and push my hips up. "Please, please touch me Sammy." "Hmm but I', already touching you. Gotta be more specific."

"Pleeease, need to feel your mouth. Please." never in my life would I beg any man like that. But for Sam to touch me I would get on my knees and start praying.

He pushes my underwear to the side and laps at my puffy folds, tasting me and groaning. "You taste so good.." then he starts sucking my clit and I almost faint at the feeling. I let out a silent moan, bucking my hips but he presses them down and slightly nibbles at my clit.

"Fuck Sam!" my scream echoes probably through the whole house. "Suck my cock again." he mumbles against my pussy, adding a finger and teasing my entrance with it. I grab his hard cock and wrap my lips around the tip, sucking on it with a lot of pressure. "Oh yeah.." he groans against me, sucking harder on my nub.

I feel his finger entering me slowly, then another one so it's two and curling them up just right. I let out a long moan around him, squeezing my eyes shut. I take him deeper until he hits the back of my throat.

He groans against my clit, making me moan around his cock because of the vibration. It's like an endless circle of pleasure.

He starts pumping his fingers faster, flicking his tongue over my clit like he knows every inch of my body. Well – he does.

Then I start feeling it, the fire pooling in my abdomen. My walls clench around his fingers, signaling him I'm almost there. He let's go of my clit and continues pumping his fingers. "Are you close baby?" he asks tauntingly and puts his thumb on my now sensitive clit, rubbing it without any mercy.

I cry out around his cock, tears running down from all the pleasure around me. Never ever did James make me feel like this just from oral. Then, right before I explode, he stops. Pulls out his fingers and let's go of my pulsing nub, even pulling his cock out of my mouth.

"Sam!" I cry, bucking my hips into the air. "That's for leaving in that fucking dress." he whispers, kneeling down so his face is in front of mine. I huff out some air, pouting when I lose my orgasm.

He grabs my should again and pulls me up, away from the bed. He pushes me towards his desk with a mirror on it, grabbing my neck. " 'm gonna fuck you from behind and you're gonna watch yourself in the mirror, yeah?" "Yes." I answer, leanin forwards, my upper body on his desk now. "Spread your legs." he commands and pushes them apart with his knee.

"Look at that, I don‘t even have to fucking touch your dress, you‘re such a little whore." he spat when he sees my dress isn't covering my ass anymore. A sudden pang hit's me. I look over my shoulder back at him and see him grinning at me, slapping my ass again but this time a lot harder.

I moan when his hand hits my skin, making him smirk even wider. "I should have known you're gonna like that." he pulls my underwear down and positions himself at my entrance. "Beg for it, wanna hear what a little slut you are for me."

"Hm yes your slut only.." I moan and wiggle my hips against him, hoping for some friction. "Please Sam, I need to feel you inside me, please. I've been so good, please." my begging is like music to his ears and before I can see it coming, he pushes inside me with one go.

"Oh fucking hell!" he groans loudly, his mouth wide open and his eyebrows pushed together. "Fuck Sam, I feel you so deep!" I whine, grabbing the edge of the desk. He starts moving his hips, slowly at first and then fast like never before.

The sound of his thrusts, his skin slapping against mine could be heard through the whole house together with our moans and groans. Thank god his Dad is camping.

His right hand finds it way around my throat, squeezing it just lightly to make me feel lightheaded. "Look at yourself." he demands. I bite my lip when I watch him through the mirror. I could see the sweat on his forehead, a few hair strands clinging to it. His eyes are slightly hooded from the pleasure he felt every time my walls massaged his cock just so perfectly.

"So fucking tight I swear If I didn't knew better I would think you're a fucking virgin." I love how dirty his words are, every time. "God, you're milking me." a little whimper leaves his lips when I squeeze my walls around him, the sound going straight to my core, making me clench even more. Like I said before, just a circle of pleasure.

"You know what's the best of it all? At first it was more about fucking his girlfriend, knowing she's coming around my cock. But now I have you all to myself and I'm gonna die before I let anyone else touch you ever again. You're mine now, angel." he pants and Strats to move his hips in a brutal pace now, making me scream out his name.

"Yeah, scream my name so loud the whole fucking neighborhood knows who you belong to, come on." The grip of his hand around my throat get's tighter, making me dizzy but also so soaked.

"I'm gonna fill you up so good until your little cunt is dripping with my cum." I gasp at his words, my walls clenching around him automatically. "Oh you like that baby? Like the idea of me pumping that pussy full with my cum? Shit, you're like a fucking dream. Just as sick and dirty as me." "Sam.. please.." I whine, sobbing at the thought of his words.

"Say it baby, say it, come on. Let me hear it. Fucking let me hear you beg for it." he groans, his cock already throbbing inside of me, ready to bust. "Oh Sammy please, please fill me up. Come inside of me, wanna feel it so bad." I let out a few sobs again, watching him react to my words in the mirror.

His eyes roll back and one of his hands wanders around me, rubbing my clit in circles, adding to the tight feeling in my stomach. "I'm so close.." I whimper, closing my eyes.

"No no no, you're gonna watch yourself come around me." I open my eyes again, feeling tears pooling inside my eyes. I look at the desk beneath me, rocking back and forth, all his school stuff already on the floor. "Sam, please let me come, please."

He lets out a dark laugh and slaps my ass again with much more force than before. "Want me to fill you up real good? Wanna feel my cum dripping down between your pretty thighs? Wanna walk around with my baby inside you? Fuck you would be such a good mommy hm.."

My eyes roll back at his words and the crushing feeling finally explodes inside me, a broken cry leaving my lips when I finally come around him, milking him so good.

"Fuck y-yes oh I'm gonna come. Gonna come in that tight pussy." a whimper leaves him again, adding to the crushing orgasm I have. His grip on my hip and my throat get's tighter, so tight I almost can' breath.

With a loud moan he let's go, spilling his hot seed inside of me. "Shit.." I whimper, feeling him flooding my cunt. When I slowly calm down again, I look over my shoulder, seeing him panting heavily, his chest rosing up and down. He slowly pulls out of me, a little whimper leaving me.

He takes a step back and smirks the he scans my body, his cum running down the inside of my thighs. "Hmm looks so fucking good." He comes closer again and pushes his cum back inside. "Keep it there." he whispers inside my ear, leaving shivers down my spine.

He pulls me back up and hold me when he notices my numb legs. "Don't think I am done with you angel. I said on every fucking surface."

My wide eyes look up at him but only met with his devilish looking ones. "This is gonna be so much fun, angel." he speaks before pushing me against his window, my legs wrapped around his hips.

This is definitely better tan crying after a break up.

Sooooo what do we think? My first Sam Monroe fic 🤝🏻

hope u liked it and thank u for reading! 🖤

My Masterlist

xoxo sarah <3

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onri42 · 2 days

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how I manifested my dream life after years of overconsumption

hello! after being in this community for many years, hopelessly and endlessly trying to manifest the life of my dreams since i was a young teen, i can finally say i did it. i'm living the life i always wanted. this is my success story ٩( 'ω' )و (very long and detailed! + mentions of heavy topics)

how i did it: the journey

i initally found out about manifesting from a friend who told me about subliminals, then i became invested in law of attraction and soon, law of assumption.

for years I was in a nonstop cycle of overconsuming information, deciding to put my foot down and say "this is it", only go back spiraling in my negative thoughts & old story hours or even minutes later. this cycle lasted for years. i felt like the law could not be this easy, and heavily relied on my 3d for evidence/signs of my desire. i felt like there was always something else to do in the 3d (subliminals, scripting, vision board, etc) and was not satisfied in just believing in the unseen.

eventually, i became sick of it. i wanted my dream life so badly, i would cry myself to sleep some nights because of how badly i wanted to be free from my old story. i hated my old life, and was desperate for my new one.

i constantly reread the same edward art posts, tumblr posts, and success stories about the law and craved for something new, but at this point i already knew all i needed to know about the law. i had some success with the law of assumption in the past (manifesting my acceptance into uni, talking to a cute boy etc.) but getting my entire dream life felt like it was impossible. i knew i can get anything and everything i wanted, but honestly i was scared and felt like there was a barrier between me and my desire. yet, i held onto these feelings for years. at some point i even felt childish and the need to "grow up and be realistic" about what i wanted since everything around me was changing and i wasn't getting any younger. but i still held onto my dreams and desires, it was planted into my heart for a reason and I really wanted it to come true.

one day i was clearing out my phone and came across blushydior's success story of how she manifested her dream life in hard circumstances. i read her post again and really internalized what she said about the law.

in short, life is a blank canvas. the minute you decide what you want, it is done. there is nothing stopping you from getting anything you ever wanted because it is already finished. just keep persisting and accepting that it is done because it simply is; nothing else left to do.

so i decided to go all in. i didn't do much: just affirm that i had my desire when i thought about it and embody the state. during the first few days, i felt a wave of happiness and excitement whenever I affirmed for my desires. i knew i had them, and it made me happy. i didn't ignore my 3d, i simply lived through it. i did whatever i had to do in my 3d while still thinking "oh i already have my desire! nothing can stop me, it's all done!"

over time, the feelings of excitement faded and it became more of a feeling of security and calmness. i would still think thoughts like "oh yeah i have my desire, oh well whatever" and simply move on.

i will say though, in the middle i did kind of cave and want to fall into my old ways. i had the feelings of calmness but felt like there was something else left to do. i logged onto tumblr and scrolled over some of the posts i had saved, but didn't read them and rely on them for info. i had to force myself to snap out of feeling like I didn't have it and remind myself that i had it. when i felt overwhelmed with my 3d or faced something that i didnt like, i would remind myself of my desires being complete.

at night i'd also imagine romantic scenarios about me and my sp to fall asleep but i didn't do anything like try to get into sats or void (i tried them before and found them quite boring lol)

eventually after sticking to the assumption that i have my desires, regardless of what i see in the 3d, nothing can stop me from getting my desire because it's already done, i got them all. woke up with everything i want. this is what it means to persist: to take the leap of faith, go all in, and just keep on believing that you already have it!

the old and new story:

old story: I grew up in a very restrictive lifestyle with little freedom and privacy in my house, as well as super traditional and religious parents that made me feel uncomfortable in many areas of my life. my life was primarily just me taking care of my annoying younger siblings and studying to get good grades so I could make my parents happy. I did not have much success with maintaining friendships, no luck in the love department, and disliked who I was as a person for much of my life. I was completely dependent on my parents and wanted their approval for everything; it felt like I was living and doing all of these activities to make them proud, even though they never told me they were. anything that I wanted to pursue I shut down before even trying because I knew they would not approve. I was also constantly being pushed into these religious spaces that made me super uncomfortable due to their beliefs and have been verbally and physically abused in the name of so-called religion. I was living a life that I did not want, by finding the law it gave me an opportunity to live my own life for once.

new story: appearance transformation from head to toe, apartment and houses of my dreams in my desired cities & countries, talents, skills, and knowledge about topics I was curious about, language fluency, ideal wardrobe with all my dream clothes, items on my wishlist, having financial freedom, being free, independent, and in charge of my life, having the boyfriend of my dreams (guys he is so fine like omg), completely revamping and rewriting my past, having a tight knit friend group and the biggest one of all, the thing i wanted for so long -- being a famous musical artist in one of the biggest girl groups in the world <3

i am so so so glad i never gave up, it really is easy.

the law in summary:-

decide what you want to manifest

have faith and know that you already have your desire, it is done and nothing can stop you from getting it (remember! methods are optional)

just persist, do not give up. it will manifest into the 3d! nothing else left to do.

good luck everyone, you can do it and i believe in you <3

#law of assumption #success story #neville goddard #void success #manifesting #manifestation #affirm and persist #law of attraction #master manifestor #loa success #loassumption #loa tumblr

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sometimesliterate · 17 hours

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church — chase atlantic

' i'm about to take you back to church well, tell me your confessions, baby, what's the worst ? baptize in your thighs 'til it hurts cuz i'm about to take you back to church '

requested

you were sunday's favorite. as pure as a lamb, his perfect little toy that he could do whatever he wanted with, even though he wouldn't tell you to your face. no, his actions said all that he needed to say, there was no need to speak his favoritism openly when you accepted him so easily.

you, his darling favorite, were on your knees, looking up at him from where he stood behind his pulpit, your head bowed to him in reverence, one hand curled over the other closed fist in a prayer. " forgive me, father, for i have sinned. " the words flowed effortlessly from your mouth, and he almost found himself unable to keep a calm look on his face, content with your piety.

with your head bowed, all you could hear were his footsteps as you prayed for his forgiveness. fingers hooked underneath your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. sunday loved this view of you on your knees in front of him, your eyes begging for a forgiveness that he was so willing to give, for a price.

" tell me of your sins, " his voice was as smooth as butter, his hand never leaving your chin, forcing you to look directly into his eyes as you confessed. and of course you would, who were you to ever disobey a direct order from sunday ?

" i have.. been touching myself, father, " you admitted, and he swore he could see you melt underneath his piercing gaze. " i know it's wrong, so every time i.. get close, i stop. i know it's not right to orgasm with such sinful intentions, but i.. father, the need.. these sinful urges are taking over my body, my mind. everything. i can't stop thinking about being touched by another. "

sunday is a man who's mind always precedes before his bodily needs. but with you looking up at him, begging him to do something to help you with your urges, even he couldn't turn a blind eye to his favorite believer in need, now could he ?

" this is quite unbecoming of you. i can't even begin to describe my disappointment in you, " although his voice was gentle, his words were biting, reminding you of your place beneath his elegance and divinity. he had the ability to be kind, but he could also ruin you. you could bend to his will, or you could break. he didn't care either way, as long as he had you right where he wanted you.

" i'm sor- "

" i'm afraid apologizing isn't going to make up for your actions. you know as well as i do that acting on such carnal desires are nothing short of blasphemy, " his lips curled into a smirk as he guided your head closer to him, your body leaning in subtly to his, until you were just inches away from him, and his legs were on either side of your body.

" how can i trust you not to act on these desires again ? one should, no, one must ensure that you never act senselessly again. be not afraid, i will take care of your desires. your reverence has never faltered, my precious devotee. i would not be in this position above you if i could not qualm your running thoughts, your aching body. "

" father, please, " you pleaded, the words falling off of your lips like you were about to cry, your bottom lip pouting just a little bit. " i cannot continue to live like this with these thoughts. i need you, father. " you were in the corner of his cage, caught up in his web of desires, but even if the door were open, you would stay.

" then worship me, " sunday commanded, his tone leaving no room for arguments. you only nodded, breathless, as your eyes so lewdly flickered down to his crotch just inches away from your face, his free hand unzipping his silver pants, the sound of the teeth of his pants coming undone enough to make your head spin. you hadn't realized that his hand on your chin had loosened, allowing you to look at him as he freed himself from his pants.

he wouldn't take his clothing off completely, that was entirely off of the table. even when committing such baseless desires. no, he was teaching you how to properly worship a man like him. your god. his hands were clean of sin, it was yours that needed his grace. what was the most efficient way of giving you the body of god himself ?

you didn't need to be told twice to worship him, something that sunday admired from you, always so obedient in everything that he said. you took his cock into your mouth, letting the fat tip of it rest on your flat tongue for a moment as you looked up at him, swearing the sun was in your eyes the way his bright golden eyes were looking down at you, scrutinizing your every move.

sunday didn't move, needing you to prove that you could do such a simple task without his assistance, and a god does not chase after his people, and you did not disappoint. your pretty lips wrapped around his cock so perfectly, your head bobbing up and down as you sucked, eliciting small groans of pleasure from him. drool slipped through your lips and onto your cute little white church dress, dampening the fabric.

your eyebrows were creased together as you worked your warm mouth along his shaft, your focus evident. although he was the one being pleasured, you looked like you were in ecstasy, losing yourself in his pleasure, cock drunk and only thinking about the way his precum tasted in your mouth, like holy water.

" what a perfect little lamb, " sunday purred, his chest rising and falling quickly, his bottom lip in between his teeth. you looked up at him the moment he spoke, your eyes cloudy with desire, but still determined to listen to his every word, hanging off of them as if they were your commandments. " purifying you from within, yes, this is the ideal. my innocent, pure acolyte. your defiling of your own body was sacrilegious, but don't worry. i'll save you. "

sunday was sure controlling you was his claim, his birthright. he could give and take away from you freely as he wished, and you were to give him your everything. and in turn for your everything, of course he could give you his blessings, in the form of exactly what you craved from him. as your mouth worked up and down his cock, the lewd sounds filling up the otherwise silent church, echoing within these holy walls, he felt the pressure threatening to burst out at any moment.

his hand grabbed your hair a little tighter than he expected to, quickly pulling you off of his cock. you hesitated for a moment, the suddenness of his actions catching you off guard, momentarily breaking the spell he had you under, your eyebrows furrowed together as you looked up to him. his free hand gripped his own cock, stroking the length with rhythmic strokes.

" did you think that i would be so generous ? " he asked, his voice holding a hint of condescension. " beg for it. beg for my blessing. beg for your god. "

" fa- g-god- " you stuttered out, his hand in your hair holding your head at the right angle so you could look up at him with your big, doey eyes. you weren't even looking at his ministrations in front of you, solely focused on his face, his radiance. " please- please, i need your blessing, god. i need you to bless this sinful body of mine with your holiness, " the words fell from your lips like a prayer, a mantra that he'd have you repeat over and over again. " my god, please. "

sunday felt his need come to a fever pitch at your prayers, and he threw his head back, moans slipping out as his orgasm exploded outside of him, coating you in his essence. thick ropes of cum splattered onto your face and chest, covering your hair and your forehead like the crown of thorns. his hand dropped his cock, letting it rest on your face, covering one of your eyes as his tip leaked cum into your hair even more as he caught his breath subtly.

" such devotion, your baptism has cleared you partly from your sins. " he murmured, finally releasing your hair, his eyes on how lewd you looked covered in his cum, his cock resting on your face as if that was all you were good for. but his price had been paid, and now he was ready to grant you his forgiveness. " go, sit in the pew. spread your legs for me, and i'll take care of the sins plaguing the inside of your body, too, where the baptism has not yet reached. don't worry, i will make sure your body is completely free of sin, inside and outside, my little dove. "

#honkai star rail #hsr fanfic #honkai sr #honkai star rail x reader #x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr x reader #sunday #sunday hsr #sunday honkai star rail #sunday x reader smut #sunday x reader #hsr sunday x reader #smut drabble #hsr smut #sunday smut #star rail sunday

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 days

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AITA for "forcing" my best friend to break up with his boyfriend?

🧸

I (22 cis m) and my best friend 'A' (21 ftm) have been friends since we were 10 years old and I love him more than anything. He’s genuinely the sweetest, most thoughtful, and funniest person I’ve ever met. He means everything to me and we’ve been there for each other through the hardest times of our lives so far and I plan on staying until the end.

It’s always been us two. Btw, everyone mentioned here uses he/him pronouns exclusively.

A has been with his boyfriend (21 cis m) for about 2 years now, and from what he told me, things were going great. Even if I’m not too fond of his boyfriend. A few days ago, we got pretty drunk at a friend’s housewarming party. A and I live together, and as soon as we got home, he suddenly started rambling about how he wishes his boyfriend cared about him the same way I do.

Legit felt like I was in some dumb romance movie for a moment there. I felt a little uneasy and asked him to elaborate. In short, his boyfriend essentially treats him like a doll instead of a person with real emotions. He feels as though his boyfriend just uses him to get his daily fix of physical affection and sex, that’s it. The only positive thing his boyfriend can say about A is that he’s cute, which boggles my mind. It’s true but there’s so much more to him as a human being.

A is an incredibly talented artist, super kind, super emotionally intelligent, and has a plethora of interests he loves to infodump about. I’m trying my hardest not to make this entire post about how amazing he is. He’s helped multiple friends clean their depression apartments and took them out to get fresh groceries etc. because it’s basic decency to him. He has such a big heart and holds so much love in it for everyone in his life. Being around him is just so easy and makes life worth living.

He’s just an incredible person all around and every single person that has him in their life recognizes that, except his boyfriend. They’ve had issues in the past because they’re not sexually compatible, which led to some miscommunication and made A feel like he was coerced into things he didn’t want to do. He just did them to make his boyfriend happy. He does a lot of things for his boyfriend, actually. He’s constantly buying little gifts, remembering what he likes, and plans cute dates for them to go on. His boyfriend does none of these things.

I want to mention that A has bpd and avpd. He has an intense fear of rejection and will do everything in his power to appease others so they won’t leave him. I always take the time to reassure him that I love him for who he is and not what he can give me. Basically just making sure he feels loved. Keep in mind, his boyfriend is aware of this but he just gets annoyed when A seeks reassurance from him. His behavior has made my blood boil several times in the past already, but I always kept it to myself for A’s sake. If I was vocal about disliking his boyfriend, it probably would’ve caused A a lot of distress and emotional turmoil.

Still, I don’t think this relationship is healthy for A and I know him well enough to know he won’t break it off on his own. It’s just his combo of personality disorders that makes it impossible for him. I told him about my concerns and he agreed, but said he feels bad for his boyfriend since he apparently doesn’t have any friends outside of A. From my POV, it just looks like his boyfriend knows A is out of his league and is grasping at straws to make A stay with him out of pity.

This is where I might be the asshole. I got a little frustrated and raised my voice, which I severely regret. I don’t want to blame it on the alcohol but it definitely had a hand in it. I finally told him about all these grievances I have about his boyfriend, how much I dislike him and how A deserves so much better, etc.. At one point, I essentially gave him an ultimatum. It’s me or his boyfriend. I didn’t really mean it, it was just a heat of the moment thing I spat out. I would never leave him like that.

A started crying and begged me to calm down, at which point I realized how shitty I was being and immediately began apologizing. We hugged, I comforted him, and we spent the rest of the night cuddling and talking about how he could approach the breakup.

Now that I’ve sobered up I feel like absolute shit. I know it’s not my place to tell A what to do with his romantic relationships, even if I’m his best friend. Plus, I want to be 100% honest here and say I might have romantic feelings for A. I think I have for a long time, but I always wrote it off as intense platonic love. So I may be biased in this whole conversation about his boyfriend.

I didn’t say these things because of that. I genuinely think his boyfriend is a huge dick and full of shit, no matter how sweet and loving he pretends to be. It’s all in the way he treats A. He’s one of those guys that paint their nails (nothing wrong with that but you know the kind of guy I’m talking about), pretend to be feminists, and steal their romantic partner’s personality to seem cooler. He even asked A to stop taking testosterone because he didn’t like how hairy A was getting or some shit like that.

He’s pansexual but has only ever dated girls and started dating A before A began medically transitioning. There’s obviously nothing wrong with that and changes nothing about the fact that he’s pansexual, he just pisses me off when he criticizes A for being 'too masculine'. You can have a preference for feminine people but don’t make that shit your partner’s problem when they just want to pass.

I feel like A’s boyfriend just thought A would always stay the smooth, baby-faced twink he was before going on testosterone and now makes him feel guilty for looking like a grown man. Some people don’t know how to appreciate hairy tummies.

Sorry for making this so long but I just want to be as honest and informative as possible to get proper opinions on the issue. A is now dead set on breaking things off because he now knows that I actively despise his boyfriend and he always puts my opinion above everyone else’s.

Was I in the wrong for doing this or am I just protecting my best friend? I’m glad he intends on ending things but I feel a bit like a conniving snake considering everything. It feels like I’m taking advantage of his mental state even if I’m not doing it consciously.

#aita #am i the asshole

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oneshotnewbie · 2 days

Text

𝐵𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑠

𝐄𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐄𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐁𝐈'𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤.

ᕚ---ᕘ

Emily Prentiss stood at the door of the office where you always retreated to go over your ideas for a new case before presenting them to your team, her hand shaking as she hesitantly grasped the handle. The atmosphere was tense, charged with unsaid words and unspoken emotions that had been plaguing her lately.

You looked up as Emily stepped over the threshold, and her heart made a painful lurch. The love she saw in your eyes brought tears to her own, but she forced herself to stay strong and swallow them down. "Emily," you spoke quietly, your warm voice a whisper in the space of complete silence.

The black-haired woman swallowed hard and stepped closer, her arms tucked under her chest, her gaze cast downwards at the floor. The words she wanted to say were heavy as lead on her tongue. "We need to talk," she finally managed to speak, her voice breaking.

You turned from the whiteboard of the room, your eyes full of worry as you slowly walked towards her. "What's up?" You asked softly, reaching out to touch Emily's forearm. But she pulled back as if she would be burned by the touch. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I can not do this anymore."

You stared at her in disbelief, as if you didn't understand the words, and took a few steps back. "What do you mean by that?" your voice trembled with uncertainty and fear, your body began to tremble.

Emily didn't look at you, her gaze still cast to the floor, unable to look you in the eyes. "I mean our relationship," she spoke quietly, taking a deep breath as she bit her lip. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore. I can't love you like you deserve."

You staggered back as if she had struck you and your back leaned against the table behind you. The tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to comprehend the words that had just left her lips. "Why?" you whispered brokenly.

She swallowed the knot in her throat and continued to force herself to stay strong even though it was tearing her up inside. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to fall into your arms and feel your warmth. But that wasn't possible anymore, she couldn't. "Because I'm not good enough for you. I don't deserve you."

You moved closer again, placing your hand on Emily's cheek, but she backed away again as if it was the most painful thing she had ever experienced. "Emily, this is ridiculous," you said, your voice shaking, not understanding what was wrong with her. Everything was fine this morning when you both woke up in the same bed. "You are more than enough. You are everything to me. More than I am to myself."

Tears were now streaming freely down her face as she saw the pain in your eyes that she never wanted to be responsible for. "I'm sorry," she sobbed, her voice also broken. "But I can't do this anymore. I can't look at you anymore without knowing that I could hurt you at any moment."

You broke down in front of her as you begged Emily to stay with you. You didn't understand what was happening at that moment. You were in a state of shock that seemed unreal, like a nightmare. "Please, Emily. Whatever you're going through that's causing you to push me away, we can get through this. We can get through this together."

But she shook her head, having already made her decision. And no one could refuse her anymore. Not even the love of her life. "No," she spoke, her voice firm and loud. "I'm sorry, but this is what's best for both of us."

With one last painful look, Emily turned and left the room without another word, her heart broken into a thousand pieces. Behind her, you were left drowning in a sea of tears, your heart shattered by the loss of the love you had hoped to last forever.

It took a while for you to regain your composure and feel emotionally stable enough to face the team and your work. You returned to the office and immediately felt the others' eyes on you. Your eyes were reddish and traces of tears could be seen on your cheeks. You tried to keep your composure, but the painful memories of the conversation with Emily made it difficult for you to think straight.

Morgan and Rossi exchanged a worried look when they saw you like that. They knew something was wrong and wanted to help you. But before they could say anything, JJ also looked up and noticed the internal battle you were engaged in. She pulled you to her desk by your upper arm as you walked past her without saying a word. "Hey, is everything okay?" She asked worriedly and you swallowed hard, feeling the emotions overwhelming you. "Emily.. she left me," you managed to say in a shaky voice that didn't fall particularly quietly from your lips.

The words hit the blonde like a blow. She didn't expect the two of you to ever break up. Gently, she forced you to sit on her desk, placing her hand sensitively on your thigh to let you know she was there. "Oh, love.. What happened?"

You sniffled and gently wiped the tears from your eyes. "She said she wasn't good enough for me and that I deserved better," you told her, your voice filled with sorrow. JJ's heart began to beat faster, unable to imagine how difficult it must be for you to be abandoned by someone you loved so much. "Baby, I'm so sorry." She spoke, squeezing your thigh, standing up to pull you into a tight hug.

Meanwhile, Morgan and Rossi had also come closer to hear what had happened and why you were crying. When they found out Emily had broken up with you, they also felt the sting of loss.

Morgan clenched his fists in anger. He couldn't believe Emily had hurt you like that. "I will kill her." He spoke and the other two of the team looked over at him, giving him a serious look before turning their attention back to you. Rossi placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his expression betraying a mixture of regret and worry. "I'm sorry you have to go through this, kiddo."

"I told my mother about her, even though she doesn't exactly like my lifestyle," you began, your voice filled with sadness, muffled by the many tears that rolled freely down your face. "I lied for her. I broke rules and ignored everyone else just for her."

Morgan rubbed your back while Rossi held you and let you cry. "I cried so hard when she died to go into hiding. I lost myself during it. I thought about her constantly. I wasn't even mad when she suddenly reappeared."

JJ pushed further forward to be closer to you and you let your feelings out. She knew that touch and closeness often weren't enough to mend a heart in moments like this, but she wanted to make you feel like you weren't alone. "I wanted everything with her. I love her so much."

All three listened attentively, Morgan even had tears in his eyes. He knew how strong the bond between Emily and you had been, and the thought of you being apart hurt him deeply and frustrated him.

ᕚ---ᕘ

Emily Prentiss sat in the passenger seat of the car, staring out the window absentmindedly. The car was otherwise empty as the other members of the team stayed in the office. Only David Rossi, the colleague with whom she drove away to pick up the suspect, was there and tapped on the steering wheel.

With a sigh, the black-haired woman finally turned her head to Rossi, biting her lip. "David, can I talk to you?" She asked quietly and the older gentleman looked over and saw his colleague's serious expression. "Of course. Shoot."

She now turned her body completely towards him and struggled for words that were burning on her tongue but she was afraid to say. "It's about y/n.." she began hesitantly and Rossi turned the radio down before looking at her carefully. Emily felt a lump forming in her throat as she took a deep breath. "I broke up with her, David."

He frowned and raised an eyebrow. He knew how much she loved you and still didn't understand why exactly she did what she did. "Y/n already told me about it, Emily. Why did you do that? You two were happy together."

Emily lowered her gaze and began to play with the ring that you had once given her as a joke and she still hadn't taken it off. "I know.. But I was afraid, David. Afraid that I wasn't good enough for her. And besides.. Relationships in the FBI, especially within the BAU, are forbidden. If Strauss had found out, we would have been in trouble. One of us would probably have been transferred to another unit."

Rossi nodded slowly as he listened to her and gently placed a hand on Emily's hands. "Emily, I understand your concerns. But love is complicated, and sometimes we have to take risks to find the happiness we deserve."

Emily fought the tears that were gathering in her eyes again and bit her lip to hold them back. "But what if I made a mistake? What if I love her more than I could ever admit? I don't give a damn if I lose the job. I just want her back."

Rossi smiled softly and squeezed her thigh tightly before looking deep into her eyes. "Sometimes we have to put our pride aside and fight for what really matters to us. She may be deeply hurt, but she still loves you. Love is precious and should not be given up lightly. Listen to your heart and get your girl back."

Emily looked at Rossi gratefully as her tears slowly rolled down her cheeks. She felt a weight lift from her shoulders. His words touched her deeply and gave her a new perspective.

"Thanks, Rossi." She said quietly before tapping her hand on his a few times as a gesture. At that moment she knew she had to make a decision. And this time she would listen to her heart and not her head.

During the mission, Emily couldn't think of anything other than apologizing to you, her body shaking as she hesitantly stood in front of the desk you were sitting at, her heart pounding heavy and loud in her chest. She had decided to finally talk to you and make things right, but she was still trying to find the right words to start the conversation.

You sat there, engrossed in your work, not noticing that anyone had approached you. “Hey,” she spoke quietly, sitting down in the chair across from you. You didn't even lift your eyes from your paper as you just replied to her coldly. "What do you want, Prentiss?"

Emily swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper, the use of her last name causing a tug in her soul. "I want to talk to you about something, y/n. About us."

You snorted disdainfully and put the pen aside before folding your hands on the table and looking at her bitterly. "There's nothing more to say. You made your decision when you broke up with me."

Emily felt the sweat spreading on her hands, she couldn't ignore the nervous twitching in her left leg that was spreading. "But that was a huge mistake. I realized that I love you more than I could ever admit. I want to grow old with you. Please, let's talk about it."

You shook your head, your eyes shining with pain. "It's too late. You broke my heart and I can't trust you not to do it again. I can't go through this again. You know my past, Emily."

Emily looked down, unable to look at you. She felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I hurt you. But I love you, y/n. I would do anything to make it up to you."

You snorted bitterly. "Sometimes love just isn't enough. You've done enough damage, I can't let you, a person I've trusted with my entire life, hurt me any more."

The words hit Emily like a slap in the face. She could hear the pain in your voice and knew there was no way to ease it. Heartbroken, she stood up. "I will fight for you, y/n. No matter what it takes." She spoke and left your seat, knowing that she had lost the only person she had ever truly loved.

The question of whether she would ever have the opportunity to regain your trust and love remained shrouded in an uncertain fog of hope and doubt, and the path to your heart seemed to be paved with insurmountable hurdles and endless pain.

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yup-thats-me · 23 hours

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"let's see kids who can hug mamma the first!" Your husband told or rather commanded your twin boys as the three came back from their grocery run.

Your two sons giggled as they ran towards the house and the thirty-something-old kid (your husband) too ran with them. The only visible difference being was that he was taller and was carrying three to four bags with him. He, same as his kids, had that stupid little smile on his face.

When the door barged in and her kids ran to your side, Y/n couldn't help the smile that made its way to her lips. Putting down the cup of coffee she was holding, she stumbled back a little by the force as the two little humans hugged their mother like their lives depended on it.

Smiling, Y/n was caressing her two boys lovingly. What she did not expect was to see her husband as well to join in on the group hug and forcibly make his way into the middle making the kids grumble in dissatisfaction.

"That's not fair, dad! we came first!" Your kids whined.

The man gave them a smug grin. "You think? You little seaweeds wouldn't be here if I did not come first, you know." He blew raspberries at the kids. "Also, did you not know your mother loves me the best?"

His comment earned him a smack on the head from his beloved wife. The man held his head in feigned hurt and looked at Y/n like she just betrayed him in the worst ways.

The boys laughed at their father but were quick to ask, "Do you really love Dad more than us, mama?"

Smiling she pecked the two on their cheek, and her husband too to make him stop pouting. "Well...it may be partially true."

It was the kids turn to look betrayed. "But mom!"

Y/n giggled. "I do love you boys. I love you two so much. How can I not when you are literally a part of me? I love you two." he caressed their cheek.

"But as much as it's true that you two are a part of me," she continued, "I wouldn't be able to have you with just myself. It is thanks to your father that I am given such a beautiful gift." she smiled, her eyes shining with a sadness that is not melancholic. It was the realization that her kids would someday leave her. Of course they would, they are bound to. And when they do, she'd be thankful to her husband who stayed.

Her husband smiled at her and gave his kids a nod. Upon the command, the three hugged Y/n out of the blue and greeted, "Happy mother's day momma!"

Y/n was brought back to the present, she smiled, a few tears pricking her eyes. "Thank you, boys," she kissed their cheek. "We have brought you some food as well! We'll go bring it!" The two got up and ran to the kitchen to bring whatever they brought as a gift for their mother.

In the meantime, Y/n's husband snaked a hand around her waist, pulling her close. "Thank you, baby, for being the mother of my children. Really, thank you." And this time, her husband was speaking from the bottom of his heart

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deoidesign · 1 day

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Happy webcomics day!!!

I'm not home (on a trip right now with family), but I still want to talk a little bit about my process, so I did what I could to find some wip shots 🧡

Plus, I'd also like to update my extremely patient readers with a little taste of what's to come!!!

Step one, of course, is writing.

When I'm writing I have four documents open. A "dump" document, a "yes this!" Document, an outline document, and a drawing canvas!

In the dump document, I put ANYTHING. complete stream of consciousness. The 'yes this' document is where I put anything useful from the dump document, and the outline is, of course, the outline. The drawing canvas is for me to sketch out problems and ideas and get sort of a different angle on things, since I can't really visualize.

Once I have a book completely written, I start thumbnailing!

My thumbnails pretty much look like this. Text, sketchy poses, indications of expression and maybe environment...

I thumbnail the entire book at once. I don't let myself do any edits on it until it's done, but I take note of edits I'd like to make! Then, once the first draft is out, I edit.

I'll move entire scenes, delete whole episodes, bring in bits from the end to have proper foreshadowing... Etc! It's a long process that makes my arcs feel much more complete and something I can be really proud of.

I can only do this when I'm really ahead, though, so that's why I've been on a long hiatus!!! I was forced to work without my process for a few arcs, and the difference is so huge to me that I refuse to let myself do it again. It makes a loner hiatus, but work way more worth waiting for!

Next step is lineart!

Yes, I skip sketches! I go right into lines.

I save every head I've ever drawn, and that lets me copy paste in a basic head angle. Then I redo the face, fix up the hair, etc. so it fits my panel, and then I draw the rest of the body!

This seriously saves me so much time, but less so for the drawing (i still draw a ton of heads and I'm very fast) and more just for helping me skip sketching entirely!

Then I do character flats, which since all my lines are closed that goes pretty quickly (slowest part is Steve's hair, I refuse to use a brush cause every one I've made looks terrible!!!)

And then I draw the backgrounds!

Which, I keep layered, clean, and HUGE so I can use them throughout the arc.

I used to feel bad doing this, but then I realized... It's not like backgrounds "change" irl. So why make them change in my comics...? It saves me so much time, but it ALSO lets me put in more detail per background! I draw probably 3 very large backgrounds per episode like this, and then I draw maybe 5-10 unique backgrounds for single panels per episode as well. I save these too, but they're rarely re-used.

And then my panels are done!!!

So there's a bit of my process for you all!!!

Happy webcomics day 🧡🧡🧡

And here's my comic, if you haven't read it and want to see the end result of this process, or if you have read it and would enjoy a re-read with the extra knowledge:

Or, if you would prefer books I have those too!

Happy to elaborate on any step, as well!

I make comics extremely quickly and as my full time job, and my process allows me to easily manipulate my format as well. I'm happy to share any of my knowledge if you have questions!!!

#webcomics day #webcomicday #webcomic day #time and time again #webcomics #webtoon #webtoon originals #ttawebcomic #art process #writing process #my art #comic #my comic #comic process

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azzibuckets · 3 days

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Paper Rings [Part 9/10 | Paige Bueckers]

paige bueckers x fem!reader

summary: you and paige start to heal

word count: 1.5k

masterlist w/ all parts

It was 2 AM when you finally returned to the hotel room. You’d hung out with some of the girls until they announced that Paige was coming, and then you’d mumbled something about needing to finish up some work and went to a coffee shop. Once the baristas started giving you strange looks, you went to a nearby bar, nursing a Sprite and your feelings in the corner of the room.

You were wasting away time, hoping Paige would be sound asleep by the time you returned to the hotel room. You couldn’t force yourself to face her. It would be easier just to ignore everything and creep into the room in the wee hours of morning.

Except when you tiptoed into the room, Paige was sitting on the bed. There was a low murmur from the NBA game playing on the TV, and she was faced towards it, but the distant look in her eyes told you that she wasn’t paying any attention to it at all.

You swallowed, letting the door close. Paige lurched up and when her eyes fell on you, it was like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. “Where were you?” She scrambled off the bed, but didn’t make a move towards me. “I thought something happened.”

“I was just out,” you mumbled, tossing your purse on the counter and slumping on the armchair.

“You can’t just do that.” Paige’s chest heaved. She was close now, and you coud see the dark circles rimming her eyes. Her hair was in a messy ponytail but she looked as beautiful as ever. “You can’t just disappear and not tell anyone. I was calling the rest of the girls but no one was responding because they’re all asleep, and I was getting freaked out.”

A wave of guilt washed over you. To be honest, you hadn’t thought that Paige had cared enough to wonder about your whereabouts. But she’d stayed up, when she was usually in bed by 10, and she’d been worrying her mind over you.

“Are you okay?” Paige asked, shifting from one foot to the other.

You didn’t answer, resting your head on one of the pillows on the couch. “Listen, I know we agreed earlier to sleep on the bed, but if you’re still upset then I can take the ground. It’s really not a big deal,” she stammered out in a rush, looking down at her feet.

At this point, you were exhausted. The overwhelming noise of the bar had given you a pounding headache, and all you wanted to do was sleep. You stood up, slightly swaying, and Paige reached to steady you, but she stopped herself, drawing her hands back to her chest.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you finally responded. “It doesn’t matter, Paige. I’m really tired. Let’s just go to sleep, okay?”

She nodded, following you with careful eyes as you made your way to the bed. She turned off the lights and gingerly sat on the edge. “You sure?” she asked one more time.

You closed your eyes, slowly breathing out. “Paige.”

“Okay, okay.” She pulled the covers over her body and you both laid there, staring at the ceiling.

For what seemed like hours, you stayed like that, not even bothering to close your eyes. Despite your exhaustion, you couldn’t seem to fall asleep, and neither could Paige.

“Y/N?” She whispered. You clamped your mouth shut, wondering what she would say if she thought you were asleep. “I’m sorry, but I can’t be this close to you and can’t not explain myself. If you’re asleep then whatever, I guess this is practice, but if you’re awake, you don’t have to say anything if I can keep going but…” she trailed off, seeming to be gathering her thoughts.

“I know there’s no excuse for the way I treated you. The things I said. Every day I wake up and regret everything that happened.” She audibly swallowed. “But I need you to know that I didn’t say those things because I didn’t want you. Because fuck, I did. I do. I was just so scared. And I was a pussy, so instead of being mature and dealing it with it head on, I ran away.”

You didn’t know what to say yet, but you shifted your head against the pillow so Paige would know that you were listening.

“I didn’t think I was good enough for you. You were my best friend. You told me everything you wanted, how you wanted to settle down with someone nice and have kids and everything. And knowing who I was, how many other girls I’ve accidentally hurted, I didn’t trust myself to not hurt you too.” Her breaths were shaky now, and you could tell that she was doing that thing where she was trying not to cry. Your heart ached, and it took everything in you not to reach over and touch her.

“I woke up the next morning, and I felt like such a horrible person. That I’d taken advantage of you.” She was crying now, sobs racking her body. She sounded so wrecked, so hurt that when you closed your eyes, tears slipped down your cheeks too.

“I don’t even know how those words came out of me. None of it was true. I hope you know that. And I know I hurt you really bad. But I swear on my life that’s something I’ll try to never do again, if you’ll take me back.” You felt the bed shift as Paige wiped her eyes with her arm. “And I totally get it if you want nothing to do with me ever again. But I’m fucking selfish, and I want to be around you.”

You gasped, tears flowing freely now. The hole in your heart was widening, threatening to eat you alive. Every fiber of your being was screaming at you, telling you to roll around and assure her that everything would be okay.

“This past year has been hell. I miss getting ice cream with you and I miss seeing you at my basketball games and I miss seeing you hang out with Drew and being so good to him. I miss the way you laugh and the way you look in my clothes. I miss you.”

You sat upright. Paige sat up too, surprise in her eyes. The moonlight filtering in through the window was bright enough for you to just make out her features - the wrinkle in her forehead from the downturn of her eyebrows, the redness of her eyes and her lashes coated with wetness, the fullness of her lips, the slant of her jaw. How did she still manage to look so beautiful like this?

“Y/N?” she said softly.

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips against hers. She gasped, before she laced her fingers through your hair, pulling you closer. You were on top of her now, straddling her lap, your legs wrapped around her waist.

After a few moments, she pushed you away. Her eyes were half lidden. “Wait,” she panted. “I don’t want to-,”

“You don’t want to what? Kiss me?” You said, peppering kisses down her jawline.

“Y/N, no. God,” she said. Her grip on your waist was tight, the veins in her neck flexing. “I want to, you know I do. But I don’t want this to end up with just sex and have it complicate things even further.”

You stopped kissing her, instead leaning your head into her neck, breathing in her familiar scent that you had missed all too much. “Yeah, okay.”

“Okay?” Paige leaned down, bringing you with her. You were lying half on top of her, and you were so comfortable that you didn’t want to move, but you didn’t want to suffocate her. “If I’m getting heavy, let me know and-”

“No, fuck. This is perfect,” she interrupted, reassuring you.

You tilted your head up to look at her, and her eyes softened. You realized that you’d started crying again when she brought her thumb up to wipe at the tears on your cheeks.

You buried your head back in the crook of her neck, allowing yourself to release all your worries and soak in her presence. She ran her fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp in the same way she’s done so many times before. “You’re okay,” she murmured, soothing you to sleep.

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subskz · 2 days

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i am deeply disappointed in skz

i have so many thoughts that i’ve been trying to put into words but to be quite honest they’re all meaningless anyway when there are much more important things to focus on right now. what i will say is this—one of the biggest things that made me fall in love with skz beyond their artistry and their direct involvement in everything they create, was their integrity. their ability to acknowledge their faults, to apologize to the ones they hurt, and always strive to be better people than they were yesterday, even within the resitrictions of the kpop industry. i have rarely found myself questioning whether or not their hearts are in the right place. but for them to be associated with zionist after zionist now of all times, when the genocide of palestinians is worse than it’s ever been for 7 months straight and more well-documented than it’s ever been in history, is something i can’t look past

i never have and never will shape my beliefs around celebrities, and i will never rely on an idol to serve as my moral compass, but i don’t think it’s so crazy to have expected better from skz. i’m well aware that a lot of this is out of their control, but if jype continues to make decisions like this, at what point does working with zionists in the midst of one of the most horrific tragedies our world has ever seen become the norm for skz? at what point do i stop looking away from it and wait for it to pass, only for it to happen again and again in the future? even if this goes against skz’s beliefs, which i hope with all my heart it does, i can’t in my right mind continue to support them when their projects uplift, praise, or have any connection to zionists. i can’t in my right mind continue to support them when they’re smiling in a photo next to a man who said he would make the most out of serving in the iof artillery. there are no words to describe the feeling of seeing them happily posing for pictures with zionists as gaza is being bombed in real time and over one million palestinians are being forced to evacuate rafah on foot as israel launches attacks on a supposed “safe place”

after over 5 years of loving and supporting skz, i have to draw the line. so i will be stepping away from them for a while, which includes putting all writing for them on hold. if something about this bleak situation changes, if they say something like they have in the past, i may consider supporting them again. i want to believe in skz more than anything, but all the details surrounding this godforsaken song have just gotten worse and worse, and if this passes without them ever acknowledging it, i honestly don’t know if i can see them the same way again

either way, this isn’t about me or skz or kpop. more importantly than my feelings of disappointment, i’m going to continue pouring all of my energy into supporting the people who truly need and deserve it; palestinians. i urge you all to never stop standing up for palestine. to give up on them would be to give up on our very humanity. i will do everything i can until the very end, i hope you guys will too

#☆

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byoldervine · 21 hours

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What Common Writing Phrases Actually Mean

For years I assumed a lot of the common writing phrases that get thrown around were just generic things that were never actually going to help people write because it doesn't actually tell you what to do. But recently I've been able to work out the meanings for a few of them and I'd like to share them with my fellow writers, especially for my fellow NDs with literal thinking

"Write what you know" - it doesn't mean that you should only write what you're already familiar with, it means to do your research, gain knowledge and go from there; if you haven't done the research, don't write about it *until you have*, not just shrug your shoulders and find something else without ever trying to write it. Additionally, things will have more of an emotional impact if you write about things you yourself have experienced, or when you tie in your own experiences to something; you’ve probably (and hopefully) never had acid thrown in your face, but you’ve probably gotten shampoo in your eye and can amp that experience up

"Writing is a discipline"/"Write even when you're not motivated" - my reaction to this was always that, since I was only doing this for fun and didn't have any deadline to meet, why should I force myself to write even when I don't want to? But what they're trying to say with this is to make sure you have some level of consistent progress, even if it's only one sentence every week; having a minimum level of progress you can count on is an absolute lifesaver when writing, as well as being motivating in its own right

"Edit as you go" - this one really doesn't mean to change up your entire chapter every single time you get a new sentence down, it means to take breaks from writing new chapters to reflect back on what you've previously written and make sure to fix up any inconsistencies while the next few chapters are still fresh in your mind. Outside of SPAG mistakes or quick one-sentence-or-less tweaks I generally wouldn't advise properly editing the same chapter you just wrote simply because you could easily burn yourself out speedrunning to the final draft before you even get to chapter two

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rush-the-stars · 2 days

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AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART III

━─━────༺༻────━─━

|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.8k || ao3 || <- part ii || masterlist ||

minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only

━─━────༺༻────━─━

“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”

***

Suguru tries to tame you.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

✧ SPRING FEVER collab ✧

cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader, biting, blood, marking, one slap from the reader to suguru and he sorta likes it, fainting, fainting from lack of food, reader refuses to eat because she doesn't want getou to feed her, getou does not let reader eat unless he feeds them; forced feeding. forced bathing, smut; masturbation, dirty talk, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?

a/n: happy mother's day to alpha suguru getou <3 this is the third and final part of this lil series for @lorelune 's spring fever collab! pls mind the warnings, i added some! i will be honest this part feels like a fever dream to myself lol...,.not beta read..,.i barely read it back bc im terrified of my own smut JFDKLSK enjoy LMAO but on a real note, thank you to everyone who has reached out and been so kind ab this fic! i hope you enjoy this last part! let me know your thoughts <33

━─━────༺༻────━─━

When Suguru first offers you food from his own hand, you push it away. He cooked it for you and you refuse it, turn your nose up at him and shut your mouth resolutely, feel your lips cage your teeth like a muzzle

“I’ll do it myself.” You tell him firmly.

But then he holds the food away from you.

You go nearly a day and a half, feverish and woozy, without eating.

You do not plan on conceding, but end up fainting not long after. Your body is under too much stress; you need sustenance. You need food and water.

So he begins to feed you as your lashes flutter and you are too weak to deny him this time.

It’s easier, when you can hardly keep your eyes open. His hands are impossibly gentle. You feel his fingers against your lips, careful, and loving.

When you’re feeling better, you glower at him.

He is rather pleased, though.

The next time he tries to feed you by hand, you turn and bite his hand, sink your teeth into the meat of it.

He laughs warmly, fondly.

“Feel better to get that out of your system?” He asks, when you finally pull away.

You don’t respond to him.

He grabs your face swiftly then, big hand fitting around your jaw and bearing down. This time, he holds you steady, and brings the slice of orange to your mouth.

You squirm, but he says, “I will not have you fainting again.”

“Let me feed myself then.” You manage to get out, but he holds you tighter, presses at your jaw to get it to unhinge.

The orange pops into your mouth.

“You’re insufferable.” You say around it, cheek puffed with the fruit.

Unfortunately, it’s good. Sweet. A little cool. Refreshing. You do want more.

“This doesn’t have to be so difficult.” He responds evenly, peeling away the next piece of the orange. It looks so small in his hands.

You swallow the piece in your mouth.

“You’re right,” you respond stubbornly, “it doesn’t.” You reach for the next piece but he holds it away from you.

Frustration overcomes you, chokes you like thorny vines strangling out the softer plants around them. Heat hits your face again and you have to wonder if you’ll ever get over it all. If he’ll ever stop making you feel this way.

Tears prick your eyes again.

You turn your face away from him. He sighs.

“It isn’t so bad,” he says softly, “if you’d just give in.”

You sniff. “I could say the same of you.”

“I’m trying to take care of you,” he says, “and at every turn, you are still trying to refuse it.”

“I don’t need—”

“But don’t you want it?” He asks gently, hand reaching out slowly, knuckles first, so they skim your cheek. “It’s okay to want.”

Stubbornly, you remain silent.

“You’ve been so alone, for so long, my little stray. It’s okay to be taken care of.” He consoles softly, voice just a rumble that warms to your ears.

“I’ll not think you any less strong, if you let me feed you now.” He promises, “if you let me care for you this week.”

You don’t know why, but a tear slips down your cheek. There’s a lump in your throat, hard and aching, and threatening your resolve.

He catches your tear with a thumb. “Poor thing, so torn up.”

You sniff hard, trying to hold everything in. It’s trembling and tender, though, your heart. The ache in your chest.

You don’t think you’ll win this one—

Your head is foggy and throbbing. You don’t even know what you’re winning or losing. Or what you’re fighting for, when he puts it that way.

You feel silly for denying him.

Perhaps worse for agreeing.

Finally, in a voice smaller than intended? you ask, “can I have another piece?”

Suguru studies you for a moment.

He lifts the curved bend of the orange up to your lips, testing. Waiting. It's a half moon curve, ripe and tempting.

You give in and part your lips, accept the crescent into your mouth like holding the moon on your tongue for him.

He presses it inside, on your tongue, and you accept the crescent like holding a soft, tangerine moon in your mouth for him. His fingers skim your teeth, placing a world there, on your tongue.

“Good girl,” he says, pleased and warm, when you close around the slice.

And then you obediently swallow it down—worldeater that you are, hungry dog that you are.

Another tear slips free as you chew it slowly. It’s tangy and sweet and lovely. You feel the well of emotions inside you open up, threatening to drag you down into its depths—you think if you start to cry now, you won’t ever stop.

Suguru dutifully peels off another piece of orange, making sure it’s free of rind or unwanted seeds.

When he lifts it to your mouth, you open readily for it now. Close your lips around his fingers gently, around the sweet orange.

With tears in your eyes, you look up at him, through wet lashes.

His scent has darkened, pungent and spicier. It lingers in the back of your mouth. It’s—it makes your head spin.

And there's a strange look in his eyes now.

Almost hungry himself, if you didn’t know better.

A cramp rolls through you, hips and lower back churning, and you whimper, reaching for him.

He takes hold of you easily.

“Hurts?” He muses softly.

You nod, tense and quick.

“Breathe,” he urges, shifting between your knees from where you’re sitting perched on his counter.

Instinctively, you cling to him.

You let yourself pull him closer, fit himself to you—

“Breathe,” he says again gently.

But you can feel him between your legs, you can feel his own desire, and it strikes you like a bolt of lightning. Like crashing to earth.

He’s hard and heat sweeps through you in a whirlwind, so fast it makes you feel dizzy. Your head spins as you sink your nails deep into him, bear down with your strength like a bad dog, like you could get him to stay.

Distantly, you think he’s such a strange, awful man.

Is he so turned on from feeding you? Or from the fight?

“Suguru,” you mewl, clinging to him desperately. And he holds you, keeps you close, until your hips twitch.

You seek friction and he denies you.

Frustratingly, tears spring to your eyes again.

“You’re so—“ you try to get out, “why are you also denying yourself?”

“Because I made you a promise.” Suguru responds evenly. He pauses, eyes flickering over you, a lightning flash of violet, “and, perhaps,” he squeezes your waist, “to teach you a lesson.”

A noise of frustration works its way out of you, a little growl or whine, somewhere in the back of your throat.

“Won’t you do anything to help me?” You get out, pawing at his shoulders, his chest.

“I’m feeding you,” he says, “I’m caring for you.”

And then he draws away, back to the orange, and your fingers grip the edge of the counter until pain presses into them. You have to force air into your lungs, try and make your head stop spinning.

The wooziness and the aching is perhaps the worst part. You feel out of your mind, wish you could crawl out of your body.

When Suguru returns, he has another piece of orange between his fingers.

You glare up at him with glassy eyes.

“Open,” he says, warm and low.

Pleased.

Turned on.

Your lips part and you accept the fruit and his fingers into your mouth. You let yourself close around them, feel his knuckles on the inside of your warm, wet cheek.

You’re slow about it, or maybe he is.

You hold his gaze furiously.

Maybe it was time you taught him a lesson, too. You bite down hard into the orange. It bursts in your mouth.

***

The third day is perhaps the worst.

You’re so hot and somehow both overstimulated and undertouched. Your skin crawls until Suguru touches you. You ache in a way that makes you fear for your own health; several times you start to cry—not just cry, but bawl—from the pain. From the frustration.

At one point, you beg Suguru to take you to the hospital. To help you. To save you.

You babble that you’re going to split apart. You’re going to lose your mind.

Like a colicky baby, you can’t calm down.

And this time, he can’t quite seem to soothe you, either.

You twist and turn and pull at your clothes and your hair. You dig your nails into your own skin and drag them down in vicious, curving marks.

You press and scratch at inflamed, painful scent glands.

Your jaw hurts strangely in the joints.

(You realize you want something in your mouth. Maybe you want it between your teeth.)

Suguru tries to hold your hands away from yourself, tries to keep you from tearing into your own skin, but it only worsens you. It only makes you fight harder and cry harder. You lash out more, using more force with yourself, with him.

When he snaps finally, pinning you roughly and with a flash of his sharper, greater canines, something inside of you howls.

All you can do is beg and plead and cry. Press up against him desperately. Sink your face into his throat and inhale and—

Bite.

Your teeth close around the skin of his throat and bear down harshly.

He inhales sharply, spine going rigid with the pain for a moment.

You taste his blood on your tongue and feel your eyes roll blissfully to the back of your head. Darkness as your lashes flutter shut. You whimper into his throat—

“Is that what you needed?” He hisses, slipping his hand behind you to cradle your head to him, to keep you at his throat, “you just needed to get your teeth into me?”

As if in response, you twine yourself around him, hitching your legs around his waist. Your arms winding around his broad shoulders, as if you could absorb him into your very body, your very soul.

“Too bad it won’t take, hm?” Suguru muses, unmoving, allowing himself to melt into your vice grip on him.

You make a soft noise; one that would be embarrassing if you didn’t—if you weren’t so—

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To Mark me properly?” He continues, voice bedroom soft, “you want to scar me with your own teeth?”

As if in response, you try and fasten your mouth down harder, grinder your teeth into his flesh until he groans. The sound reverberates through you, rattles around inside your head until you’re mindless with it.

When you finally manage to unlatch your teeth, he hisses and pulls away to grab your jaw.

“What a little beast,” he sneers at you, “with my blood all over your mouth.”

Something inside of you snaps.

Unintentionally, you shudder into your cursed form—teeth elongating, nails sharpening. Strength rips through your otherwise feeble, heat-laddled body. In a sudden move of power, you shove him hard, and throw him off you.

In an instant, you are back atop him.

This time, when your teeth sink into the juncture of his other shoulder, they are far longer.

He actually cries out in pain.

The sound sparks beneath your skin, roars to life like a sudden fire and when he tries to grab your jaw and pry you off him, your claws sink into his wrist.

You struggle with each other, using your cursed energy, using all the strength you have.

Blood drips down his chest, dampening the collar of his shirt.

He barks out a pained laugh, “you really are a curse.”

And then he is forcing you off of him, wrenching your teeth out of his skin in a brutal drag, shoving you away from him.

You hiss, baring your dripping fangs at him and he growls back. The sound low and primal. Warning bells ping around your head, but you lunge for him again.

This time, he isn’t so ill-prepared.

He grapples with you on the bed, shoving you down into it with his forearm bearing down hard into your chest.

You make a noise of pain but he doesn’t let up.

He’s panting and bleeding, his long hair slipping from its usual half-up appearance.

Something inside of you is quite pleased at the image of him.

Not so pristine.

Perhaps unsure, for once in all the time you’ve known him.

“Calm down.” He says low and soft. Part growl, part purr. “Your aggression is misguided.”

Your teeth are bared in a snarl, “you are my tormentor.”

“I am only respecting your wishes.” Suguru says and there is a horrible, smug lift to the corner of his lips. Maybe it’s more a threat of his teeth, which gleam in the lowlight. “I made you a promise and I’m keeping it.”

“Let me up,” you snap.

“Will you be good?” Suguru asks.

Your fever spikes, tears pricking again at your eyes, and you finally lose your transformation. It melts from you, until you are fangless and drained once more.

So drained, in fact, that your eyes gutter.

Suguru is off you in an instant. Air rushes into your lungs, the pressure from your chest lifting and he lets you heave for breath rough and hard.

You don’t catch him move, but suddenly a glass of water is brought to your lips. When you can breathe, you drink. You let him guide it to your lips. And this time, when you try to pull away, he stops you.

His hand cradles the back of your head, keeping your mouth to the glass.

“More,” he presses, “you’re weaker than you know.”

And for once, you don’t fight him.

You gulp down the rest of it, some of it slipping from your mouth, down your chin, rolling down your working throat. It’s cool but barely a balm to the oppressive heat inside of you.

When you finish, Suguru pulls the glass away. He sets it down and studies you.

He tsks softly, “you’re a mess.”

You take him in, though your eyes are growing heavy, all of that fighting took a lot out of you. It’s catching up with you quickly now.

But your eyes land on the bite marks you’ve littered him with. The one, specifically, that is still ringed and bleeding, dripping down his chest.

“So are you.” You reply, words slurring.

You don’t catch what he says next, muffled, as you fade from consciousness. Darkness sweeps in to cradle you, much the way Suguru is now, and you fall into a restless sleep.

***

Suguru wakes you at some point.

It’s pitch black outside the window; there is very little light in the room at all, which adds to your confusion. Your head is throbbing.

You whimper.

“Sit up for me,” his voice is a hush, “can you do that?”

“Let me sleep,” you reply, pushing weakly at him as he forces you up. Everything swims. Your head lolls like a doll and he catches it so you don’t give yourself whiplash.

“You’re burning up,” he replies, “I need to get the fever down.”

You don’t have the wherewithal to understand this.

For a moment, you hope that he means—

“I’m going to give you a bath.”

You make another noise, this one in disagreement. Fussy.

He tuts softly at you, the way mothers do at bad children, and then he disappears, allowing you to fall back against the bed once more.

You’re not sure for how long, but you doze off again, unable to keep your eyes open. You only awake when Suguru lifts you clear from the bed and into his arms. Again, you make a noise of protest, pushing weakly at him, but he pays you no mind.

You open your eyes and wince against the bathroom light.

The bath is running, filling with water. You frown and squirm in his hold, just as he gently sets you on the floor beside the tub.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” he murmurs and you push his hands away.

“No,” you snap, “leave.”

He sighs, “you can hardly sit up right now. I don’t trust you in the bath alone.”

“I’m not a child,” you protest.

“No, but you’re experiencing a compounded Heat, after years of not having one and you don’t have a knot to soothe you.” Suguru’s voice is cool. His eyes are, too.

You level him with the best glare you can manage, “and whose fault is that?”

“I’m only keeping my promise.” He almost sings.

You swat at him but he catches your wrist easily and pulls you up further as you begin to slouch further and further down against the edge of the tub. “Come,” he says, “don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

This time, when he reaches to remove your shirt, you only grumble in protest. He peels it from you carefully, revealing bare skin. Despite how hot you are, you shiver hard.

You ache.

This is the worst fever you’ve ever had. Perhaps, this is one of the worst you’ve felt ever.

You can hardly move enough to allow Suguru to slip your bottoms off and you feel so miserable that you can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed or frustrated or angry.

Tears bead at your eyes again but it’s purely because you are in so much pain.

Suguru lifts you into the bath.

It’s lukewarm. Tufts of bubbles smell like lavender. The water is milky and gentle.

You don’t realize it, but you’ve started to cry again, reaching out for Suguru. You realize he’s cleaned and bandaged his bite mark. He also coos to you, rolling up his sleeves to reach you in the water, stroking at your throat, your cheek.

And then he takes a wash cloth in hand and begins to do the same. He bathes you with a strange gentleness. A gentleness you have not given him. Your tears continue, tracking down your face, which he dutifully washes, too. He wipes away your tears, any sweat and grime, until you feel shining and new.

Eventually, you rest your arms on the lip of the bathtub, folded, and lay your cheek against them. You’re exhausted and still hurting, but at least quiet for now. At least you are cleaned and—

Suguru strokes at your cheek, traces the curve and folds of your ear, gently strokes through your hair.

“Poor thing,” Suguru murmurs, knuckles drawing across your jaw, down your throat. When he passes along your scent gland, you shiver, you wince a little.

“Hurts,” you get out and he coos more to you.

Babying you.

And you don’t have the strength to deny him any longer, so you let yourself be babied. You whimper at him and let him try to soothe you, you let him quiet and pet you.

You’re looking at each other rather frankly, through the haze of your Heat, through all the lust or aggression or fear. In a rare moment of peace, you gaze up at his face and he looks down into yours.

“Do you hate me?” You ask and your voice is rather raw from all the crying, “is that why you’ve led me here?”

A strangely fond smile touches his lips, “on the contrary,” Suguru replies, fingers careful along your cheek, “I adore you.”

“You have such a strange way of showing it.” You tell him.

“I’m only keeping my promise,” he says again and all you have in you is a deep, dejected sigh.

“I’m going to make you pay for this, Suguru.” And though your tone is docile, even sleepy, it is a promise.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll try.” He agrees, touch growing stronger, bolder, as he pets down your throat, your shoulder. You lean into the touch like a cat, too exhausted to deny it. “And I’ll still be here after—your ire or punishment will not scare me away.”

You look at him for a moment, long and hard, and only find the truth there. Something strangely raw.

After a moment, you say, “I know.”

He hums softly, leaning forward to give your burning forehead a rare and gentle kiss, “do your worst, then.”

You pick your head up barely, tilt your face to his and catch him in a sudden, burning kiss.

You pull away as quickly as you’d done it.

You can tell you’ve surprised him only momentarily, it passes over his features like a bird flickering through the sky, there and gone.

And you say, “no,” soft, and against his lips, “I’ll do my best this time.”

He pulls away, creating carefully controlled distance. “Come,” he says, urging you up and out of the bath, “let’s get you to bed.”

“Carry me?” You ask as he bundles you into a soft towel. “Let me wear your shirt?”

His eyes glint violet, dark and quick, but he says, “of course.” And indulges you.

He even holds you all night and lets you sleep in late.

The fever only worsens.

And you can’t tell if your resolve crumbles or strengthens; but either way, you’re born anew with the sun the next day.

***

Suguru woke up before you. He let you sleep in. But now you're awake and waiting for him. When Suguru returns to wake you in the early afternoon, instead of sleeping, you are half-lidded and sun-warmed, laying in his sheets still. The fever has reached a pitch inside you. You’re sure it’s done irreparable damage to your mind and psyche because of how you find yourself.

Because of how Suguru finds you.

The shirt of his you’d worn to bed is pushed up to your chin, revealing your bare chest, your stomach, flexing and twitching, with your legs spread. Your fingers between them, working messily against yourself, against where you’ve needed since your Heat began.

For once, you have shocked Suguru.

Enough that his lips part.

Just a flash, a ripple of his features, before he smooths them out quickly. Effortlessly. But it is enough to spur you on regardless, to feel just slightly triumphant.

You keen softly, arching your back, pushing your fingers gently through silken folds.

“Suguru,” you mewl his name, all soft and broken, arching your hips into your own touch desperately. Beyond your desire for revenge, is simply your desire, the need to feel full, to feel pleasure like this. And you reasoned with yourself, all night, and all morning, that you’d win regardless; either you’d wrestle his tightly held control from his grasp, and get what you so desperately want from him, or you’d still get to touch yourself and find some brief moment of reprieve.

Beyond either of those two things, you could not think. They ran around your mind like wild, starved dogs hunting down the possibility of a rabbit.

(Or are you the rabbit? Running around and around your mind, trying to escape the bite? Or are you looking for it?)

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks and for a moment, he doesn’t dare step closer to you or the bed.

You push a finger inside yourself, it goes in easy—so slick and easy—that the next pass, you add a second and gasp.

What are you doing? You feel half out of your mind.

“Can’t help it—” you get out, “it hurts so bad. It’s—I’m so—”

You watch a muscle in his jaw feather and tick. His scent is—

It hits you like a blow to the chest, the way he smells. It’s dark and spiced with warmth; tobacco and the oud in his scent has become heavier. You can almost taste it in the air.

“Suguru—“ you mewl again, pleading and cloying. You tilt your hips up towards your hand, towards him. You’re trying to entice him.

You can nearly hear the way his teeth grind together.

“You’re a brat,” he hisses but you can sense the way his control has slipped and thinned. You can nearly feel it fraying in his voice alone.

You practically purr, fingers pushing desperately inside yourself.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” you simper, “I’ve been so good letting you feed me and bathe me—I’m wearing the shirt you put me in, too.”

For a moment, you watch as his eyes slowly dip down the length of your body, to where your fingers are. You watch his expression flicker, the tilt of his eyebrows, the slight parting of his lips. You whimper, knowing he’s watching, and try to curl your fingers.

But they don’t reach as deep as his might—not thick enough, either, and the ache inside you grows monstrously.

Perhaps only soothed by the way, for once, you’ve rendered Suguru Getou rather speechless. You toss your head back and moan at the thought.

“Suguru—won’t you help me? Even a little?” You arch off the bed and catch his gaze when his eyes fly back up to your face.

“No,” he snaps quickly, “I promised you—“

“Then tell me what to do—talk to me.” You beg, “it hurts so bad, Suguru—“

The muscle in his jaw feathers again. But this time, he wades carefully into the room, stepping closer to the edge of the bed.

The moment he’s there, you adjust so he can see you better, move so your foot is just nearly touching his thigh at the end of the bed. And even that small potential for touch has you crying out again.

“I’m not sure I should, after the way you’ve been acting.” He says and though he’s trying for casualness, you can sense the tension lurking underneath.

“Touch yourself then,” you breathe, your own eyes drifting down to his sweatpants—to the noticeable bulge—

In a bold move, you place your foot on his lower abdomen, looking up at him through your lashes as your fingers gently push in and out, walls fluttering desperately around them.

He catches your ankle before you can move another inch. The way he squeezes you makes a thrill run through you, race up your spine, pool somewhere low and hot in the depths of you.

“Is this your way of trying to make me suffer?” He asks and despite everything, a hint of a smile flickers across your heated, panting face.

“Is it working?” You ask.

All he does is hum, thumb stroking along the bone of your ankle.

Even that is enough for pleasure to skitter and flare beneath your skin.

“Wanna see you,” you get out, breathy and soft, “wanna see what I’m missing.”

Suguru curses and you laugh, delirious and soft.

Pleasure blushes and surges beneath your skin.

“No,” he says again but he has to grind the word out, pull it and wrestle it from his own mouth. “You won’t get the better of me here.”

“Don’t you get tired of your tightly wound control?” You get out, twisting a little so that you might free your ankle from his grasp, but he holds firm.

“I should be asking the same of you—but clearly,” his eyes flicker again, “you do.”

“Need you so bad—“ you get out, almost pouting.

You can nearly hear his teeth grind together. He inhales sharply, as if to try and steady himself, but you can tell it only worsens him. Your scent must be thick in the air, sweetened and cloying.

Your fingers slip messily, desperately, over your clit, down inside of yourself and back out. You whine, a little frustrated, trying again and again to satiate the ache inside of you. But anything you do, isn’t enough.

It almost feels as if it’s made it worse.

“Poor thing,” Suguru finally says and you realize, he’s regained some of his composure, “look what you’ve done to yourself.”

You curse this time.

But you press on, unwilling to give up your win yet, “you’ve also done this—because you wanted the upper hand so bad.” You press inside yourself, hips lifting towards your fingers, “you didn’t have to take the suppressants.”

His brow flickers up, “I did it for you.”

“Did you?” You gasp, adding a second finger.

He swallows, eyes falling to the apex of your thighs, watching, as you fitfully try to pleasure yourself.

“You didn’t have to—you could’ve let me trigger your Rut. Then we both would’ve been like this—” your voice hitches, “then you would’ve gotten what you wanted sooner and you could’ve feigned innocence.”

“You didn’t want that,” he says, watching you carefully, “who's to say you won’t come out of this Heat and resist me again?”

“I won’t,” you breathe, “I did—” you mewl, hips arching and falling, trying so hard, working yourself up so horribly.

You bite off a groan.

Suguru clicks his tongue, makes a soft, disapproving noise. “And now look at you,” his hand slides along your calf, so large, and—

“Don’t even know how to properly touch yourself.”

“Suguru—”

Suddenly, he tugs you gently, so you’re down at the edge of the bed, your legs on either side of his thighs as he stands above you.

He leans down slightly and you sit up, towards him, hoping, desperate—

“Such a terrible, little Omega. Do you need me to teach you this, too? Do you need me to help you?”

You cry out, kitten soft, as needy and tender as a child.

“Please,” you beg, “please, I need you—”

His hand traces up the outside of your calf, up to your thigh and you squirm, hope fluttering, heart racing—

“Don’t move,” he murmurs, “or I won’t help you.”

“Suguru,” you growl in frustration.

“Ah, ah, I thought you were being good?”

Your head spins—you have no idea how he managed to flip it on you so sharply, but suddenly he has, and suddenly you're nearly underneath him, and he’s leaning over you and watching so intensely—so—

You try to go still for him. Your chest is heaving.

“That’s it,” he murmurs and his hand slowly arcs over the bend of your hip, and towards your stomach. Your hips twitch and he stills, “careful—” he warns.

You force yourself to freeze, still panting.

And then he lays the broadness of his hand on your lower stomach, his thumb just barely brushing your mound.

“This is as far as I’ll go,” he says and with the way you almost fall into a frustrated groan, he seizes your chin with his other hand, “I’ll not touch you sexually. This is all I’ll give you—be grateful for even this.”

You sneer at him and he takes his hand away.

Instantly, you miss the warmth, the pressure, the—

“Be good, or I’ll leave the room now and let you suffer even worse than before—see what you’ve done to yourself? Worked yourself up so horribly, and all for what?” Suguru’s voice is soft and smooth and so, horribly in control again. When did he get it back? When did he take it from you?

“My attention? The hopes that I’d give in?” He asks.

When you don’t respond, he squeezes your face, prompting you, “answer me, pet.”

“Yes—I want your attention. I want—” the words break over you like a wave, the realization like a blow. You want.

You desire.

You want him. You want an Alpha and not just any Alpha but Suguru, despite everything, maybe because of everything. Maybe because you made him chase, and he did. Maybe because you have run your whole life from this—this attention and this desire and this intimacy—and you have finally found someone willing to hunt you down like a fox, and in the face of your gnashing teeth and growling and yipping, to treat you gently. Like you’re a beloved house pet and not a snarling, wild beast.

“I want you,” you say honestly and his hold slackens on your cheeks to let you speak, “I hate you and I want you and—there’s no one but you—it’s only you and you’re awful but I am, too, and I need—”

It cracks out of you, voice raw, a half-sob.

Your tears make him smile.

He hushes you gently, “oh, sweet girl,” he soothes, and his other hand slowly returns to its place on your trembling, lower stomach, “you’re so torn up about this. How much grief have you given yourself? Hm? Just for wanting?”

You heave, unable to respond, suddenly reaching with your free hand for him, pulling on his shirt, closer to you.

He gives in and goes, lets you claw at his back and bury your face in his shoulder. He finally lets go of your face, in favor of letting you fall to pieces beneath him. His knee dips on the mattress. But he holds himself above you still.

“I’ll guide you now,” he murmurs and his voice is by your ear. He turns his nose to nudge against your temple, inhaling slowly.

You can feel the rumble of a groan through him that he holds back, a soft growl.

And then, “look at me.”

You sniffle and with a great deal of reluctance, you pull your face away from the safety of his shoulder to find his gaze. Midnight violet. Depthless.

“Hate me all you want,” he says, “but I adore you—no matter how you are. Willing and pliant, or vicious and biting. I’ll always adore you. And I’ll always do what’s best for you.”

Something inside of you cleaves open. Fractures in a way that is irreparable.

You want to say something but you don’t know what, you have something so tremendous and terrifying inside of you, because of him—all you can get out is a soft cry.

“Now,” he continues, eyes flickering over your body, and his thumb gently strokes over your lower stomach. “You feel empty, don’t you?”

A whimper eeks out of you. You nod slowly. Empty and torn apart and open and aching.

“Use three fingers, not two.” He commands gently, “you want something bigger, hm? I’m sure it hurts so badly—you’re so wet.”

Without thinking, you obey him.

You press three fingers carefully inside of you and it’s the first stretch you’ve gotten, the first spark of relief.

You cry out, clinging to him.

“That’s it,” he encourages, “in and out for me.”

You tilt your hips up into his hand, towards your fingers, and he doesn’t scold you. The pressure on your lower stomach makes pleasure bloom and strengthen there. For a moment, it’s just the soft, slick noises of yourself, and it’s so—

Embarrassing. So horrible.

You must look out of your depth, you must look lost or terrified, because he finally speaks again, “curl your fingers for me, darling.”

You do just that and moan the moment you press deeper inside yourself.

“Good girl,” he praises, “does that feel better? Answer me.”

“Yes—yeah.” You get out, crooking your fingers inside yourself. “I still want—”

“More?” He murmurs, pressing his hand gently against your lower stomach, “this time, you have to make do with just this.”

You bite back your whine or complaint, head hazy—fingers moving desperately. But you don’t complain, you don’t fuss.

He smiles when he realizes how you’ve caught yourself, “oh, look at that,” he purrs, “you can be tamed after all.”

And before you can ruin it for yourself, Suguru sweeps his thumb just barely over your mound again, and says, “rock your hips now, gentle.”

The moment you do, the friction against your palm makes you moan, head falling back, baring your throat.

Perhaps without thinking, he dips forward, nose tracing over the cure of your neck, following instinct. You make another soft noise, and in your haze, wish desperately that he would just bite down—

All you get is the brief skim of his warm, soft lips. No teeth and you miss them, achingly.

He presses his hand down just a little more and—

Pleasure bursts beneath your skin with enough force that your back bows off the bed, mouth parted.

You sob.

You feel your walls flutter uselessly around your fingers, feel your body desperate for something you can’t have this time, and fall apart.

Suguru is there to catch you.

He coos to you, soft and easy, and even kisses at your damp, tear-struck cheeks. He lets you arch and twist and chase your pleasure, lets you be wanton and shameless and desperate. He lets you claw him and bite him and cry into his shoulder.

And when you begin to quiet, he suddenly hitches your legs around his waist and lifts you clear from the bed. You lope your arms weakly around his neck and bury your face into his throat.

You don’t protest or fight him, you are grateful and eager for all the places you touch, feeling incredibly fragile in his broad arms.

You don’t bother to look where he’s taking you—can’t find it in yourself to care, if you can feel him against your center, feel where he’s hard and aching himself, even with the suppressants—

But between one breath and the next, you’re in the bathtub again, and the water from the shower blasts on from above.

Ice cold water pours on you.

You shriek and Suguru has the nerve to laugh, which makes you lunge for him, yanking him towards the spray of water.

It soaks his shirt, his hair, as he holds himself over you, before stepping carefully into the tub to join you.

He sits with you, beneath the cold water, and pushes his hair out of his face as you clamber into his lap.

You pull at his wet shirt and he lets you take it off of him, throw it over the side of the tub in a heap.

He reaches to do the same to you, ridding you of the only article of clothing you’d had on.

You grit your teeth, “does it have to be so cold?” You ask, feeling the spray now rain against your back, your shoulders. You lean away from it, into his arms.

“You needed this.” He says fondly. And then, as he strokes your wet hair, “I did, too.”

“You’re an awful man,” you curse him, shivering.

“I know,” he agrees with a soft, fond smile.

You look at him, hair inky and dark, lashes damp against his cheek, and the pleased way he smiles. Like an insufferable, giant cat. You’re aching and furious and freezing and so—so tender.

“I hate you,” you tell him but it sounds more like a confession, soft around the edges.

He kisses your temple, lingers there, and you can feel the curve of his smile. You can hear it color his voice;

“I know.”

***

Something shifts between the two of you after that. And the following day, your Heat finally begins to wane slightly.

You try to touch yourself again and Suguru forbids it this time. You fight and snarl with him, but you let him hold you and lull you to sleep. You let him feed you. And bathe you. You sleep bare against his naked chest and are soothed by it the way a fussy baby is calmed by the bare skin of their mother.

You feel infinitely closer to him.

You lounge with him in bed, in his living room, hanging off him all that you can.

He indulges this behavior, encourages it, even.

And on the eighth day, your Heat finally breaks.

When you wake, still curled on his chest, with his hands stroking tenderly over your bare back, he asks, “how do you feel?”

“Sane, I think.” You murmur it into his chest.

“Your Heat broke in the night.” He says and touches your head, your forehead, like he’s taking your temperature. “You’re still a little warmer, but it’s over now, I think.”

Slowly, you pick yourself up to look at him. To hover over him.

He looks up at you, too, uncertain. Waiting. You’re sure he’s waiting to see if you’ll return to your usual self, if you’ll snap or snarl or chew him out—will you storm out? Or seethe? Will you fight him still, after everything, even as he holds you in his arms now?

“Thank you for respecting my wishes,” you say instead and lean down to suddenly press your lips to his.

You feel his surprise, the way his lips part, the way he freezes and you sink down into it. For a moment, you worry he won’t reciprocate again.

But then, his hand comes up to cradle your face, and he nudges into the kiss. Hungry. Deep.

You give into him, you encourage him, coaxing him with soft tongue and eager mouth.

When you pull away, you grab his face this time, the way he always grabs yours, squeezing his lips into a little pout, “but if you ever make me suffer like that again through a Heat,” your nails dig into his cheek, “I’ll fucking kill you.”

He laughs, canines flashing, and surges forward to kiss you again. Harder. Meaner.

It’s all teeth and heat, a little vicious, the way you are. He wrestles you beneath him, kisses you into the mattress. And when he pulls away, he says;

“If you ever make me suffer like that again, you’ll wish you’d killed me first.”

You feel your own smile against his neck, against one of the ridges of your own bite mark, and with all the satisfaction in the world, you sink your teeth down into it again.

It’s like a key coming up against a lock, fitting snugly to their own indents, and finding their own, well-worn place.

It’s like finally coming home.

#suguru getou x reader #getou x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #suguru getou x you #getou x you #getou suguru x you #jjk x you #jjk x reader #cw: omegaverse #cielo's writing!#cielo writes!

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otomiyaa · 1 day

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Ticklish Blade x Reader

Platonic + 47. "I wasn't even touching you." Requested by anon for my 1K Followers Event🌻

Guess guess what scene inspired this, hahaha!

It felt... odd. You eyed the driver nervously. He was so quiet. Not more quiet than usual, but in this case it was kind of concerning.

"Blade...?" you murmured. It was already a surprise that Blade was offering you a ride while you had no idea he even had a driver's license. But the bigger surprise was when you realized Blade was sleep-deprived, and getting in a car accident with him was not necessarily on your wishlist.

Too bad the realization came only after he started the car, and you were now trying to make sure he wasn't falling asleep.

"Blade?" you asked, louder this time.

"What."

Another person would think he was angry, but you knew him better by now.

"Are you sure you're alright? I can go there myself. No need to help me."

"I'm fine. I already told you."

You gazed out of the window, then back at him. Instead of acting like you were worried about him, maybe a more selfish attitude would do it then.

"I appreciate your gesture, really. I'm just wondering if you can get me there in one piece."

You saw him frown a little. "Are you doubting me?"

"Not your driving skills, of course. But... Your current state. Blade, you haven't slept at all. I'd like to keep living, if you'll let me."

He was quiet for a moment and you had a feeling he was going to ignore this discussion. But then he simply pulled both hands off the wheel, and you gasped.

"What are you doing?!" you shrieked, only for Blade to look at you, with his hands right above the wheel and the expression on his face almost, what was it... taunting?

"The car is driving itself. Now happy?"

Oh he was totally taunting you. How petty, hehe.

You would laugh at it, but because of the jumpscare, the first thing you did was let out a sigh in relief. "I can't believe you," you said, faking as if you were going to hit him, but to your surprise he jumped slightly and blocked himself with his arm.

"Don't," he hissed. You stared at him and cocked your head.

"Huh? What're you getting all defensive for? I wasn't even touching you."

Blade glared. "Yet. You sure were about to."

You chuckled. "What, is the almighty Bladie afraid I'm gonna hit him? For real?" you teased.

"Don't call me that."

It was strange, Blade wouldn't recoil from a hit, fake or real, not from an enemy and definitely not from you, so... You smirked.

"Hey!" Blade's voice did quite the thing when your finger pierced into his side, poking him misschievously.

"What are you doing?!" he asked angrily.

"I have a feeling you just thought I was going to tickle you, weren't you? Which inspired me... to actually tickle you."

"I did no-ahh! Don't! That's dangerous! Stahahap!" Blade yelped when you tickled him again. You couldn't stop grinning. This was just gold.

He must've witnessed the two or three times you ended up getting in a tickle fight with Silver Wolf the past days, which caused him to think you were actually going to tickle him just now? The idea wouldnt even cross your mind!

Well, now it definitely did.

"Dangerous how? You said the car is driving by itself. I'm just making sure the driver and passenger won't get bored in the meantime," you said, wiggling your fingers against his side. Blade squirmed in his seat. This was just wonderful. You could see him struggle to not move too much - since then it would get a little more dangerous after all.

Right now he was merely trapped in the driver's seat and forced to endure your little tickle attack.

"I'll - ahah! Stop that!" Blade's angry giggles were everything. You knew you were really being too reckless for someone who valued life so much until seconds ago. But ticklish Blade was actually a discovery worth it.

"Gehehet ohohoff!" Blade swatted at you, and the lack of force in his reactions only made you go "aww". He wasn't entirely helpless - there were plenty of ways he could make you stop without crashing the car, but those might probably include hurting you, or...

Nah, never mind. He would never.

"Lahahast chahance!" Blade warned, jumping hilariously in his seat and twisting from side to side to avoid your relentless tickles. Using both hands, you wiggled your fingers against his sides and ribs, and occasionally tried to poke his tummy, but he really blocked that area with all of his might.

"Last chance or what?" you asked, but finally he managed to catch one of your hands. Then without warning he clawed at your side, tickling you back, and you screamed in surprise.

"EHEyes on the road sihihir!" you cried out in sudden panic. Blade froze, appearing shocked by the volume of your voice. You had already pulled your knees up and lay curled up in your seat, watching him in fear as you anticipated his counter attack. He would never tickle you back: you were confident about that. But... not anymore.

He sighed. "Then stop tickling me." Blade finally put his hands back on the wheel, and for the second time this ride, you sighed in relief.

It was funny to hear him say that word. Hmm. Maybe you just ruined your chances of having your first ever tickle attack with Bladie. But tickle fights in cars were never ideal. You smirked. Knowing he was ticklish and might even potentially tickle you back, you couldn't help but store this information in your head for another time.

"Don't you even think about it," Blade said, probably noticing the smirk on your face.

"I wasn't thinking anything~" you sang, but of course both of you knew that wasn't true!

#x reader tickles #honkai star rail #blade #x reader #blade x reader #tickling #tickle fic #otomiya!writes #hsr #lee!blade

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ahegato · 14 hours

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[NSFW] Obey Me - fem!MC first time with Satan

m.list

TW: nsfw, first time sex, loss of virginity, swearing Characters: Satana Writer: ahegato

Context: The MC would probably be pretty nervous since it’s the first time and stuff like that. Idk I lost my virginity when I was like 17 and now I’m really old, so I barely remember it. I just recall worrying about the pain while also knowing it was common, that’s about it lol

You/your pronouns, so basically gender neutral, bUT MC will have female bits.

SATAN:

he may seem put together, but he’s actually super nervous

but he’ll keep himself calm for you

you’re the one getting boinked, so it’s the least he could do

he does a lot of research to be sure that he’s ready and can properly lead you through it

“a-are you sure about this?”

ragey boy is so cute when he’s nervous I can’t-

his cheeks are red, his hands are sweaty, and good demon lord he’s actually struggling to speak

different from leviathan, however, he’ll still initiate stuff

just maybe not as confidently as say, lucifer, would

satan is a hopeless romantic, so he wants to be as close to you as possible

yet he also really wants to go rough with you

but he’s terrified he’ll get too into it and hurt you, so you’ll have to initiate it

scratch. his. back.

treat him like a scratching post, that’s how you get him going

r o u g h a s f

he’s not that big, but it’s still possible that you’ll be sore from how hard and deep he goes once you release the beast inside of him

cums so much

it took out so much energy that he’ll sleep for like 12 hours the next night

“I will admit that I’m a little worried that I’ll be too rough on you. Please promise me that you will speak up if you don’t like something.” Satan says, holding your hands in between his as he keeps his worried gaze on you.

“I promise, don’t worry about it,” you smile at him, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the cheek, which continues down his jaw, neck and finally stopping at his shoulder, making the avatar of wrath let out a light groan. Despite it being your first time, it was like you knew exactly how to get him going.

Satan curses under his breath as he enters you, trying to keep himself together for your sake, ignoring the way your insides hug him.

“Are you alright?” he gently asks when you hiss from the pain, and he tries not to show how concerned he actually is.

“Yeah, I think I just need a moment to adjust.” you respond, your eyes tightly squeezed shut.

“Of course, love,” he whispers in your ear, his hands on your shoulders and thumbs rubbing against the skin, hoping to give you some comfort while also giving you space in case you need it.

Once you give him the OK, he slowly begins to move, making sure to be gentle. Except it quickly becomes painfully slow, and you beg him to go faster and deeper, to which he hesitantly obliges.

He can’t deny that he loves the increase in speed and force, groaning and humming as your cavern envelops him. Although what he doesn’t want to show is that his rough side is threatening to come out. He’s afraid of bringing that into your very first time together, worried it might scare you or even hurt you, so he puts a lot of effort into trying to control himself. Try as he might, you can tell that he’s holding back, and you try to get him to give in.

“I... ngh... I don’t think I can...control myself...if I do,” his voice is shaky, barely able to get the words out.

Trying to take the matter into your own hands, you change the position slightly by wrapping your legs around him to pull him towards you. It causes him to hit you in a different spot, one that makes you see stars, and you press your nails into the skin on his back. He released a drawn out groan, and he thrusted into you even deeper.

Bingo!

You pretend to not notice, but when he starts moving again, you scrape your nails against his back, and hoo boy he loses control. He’s roughly rutting into you, releasing curses in between his quick breaths. He’s going absolutely wild and it’s so fucking good, which you of course let him know with moans of your own.

“You’re so-... ah, fuck... I’m getting close...” he growls into your ear.

He’ll cum with a low snarl and pull you closer so your bodies are pressed flush against each other. Once he recovers, he’ll be a mix between embarrassed and surprised. Embarrassed that he lost control, surprised that you took him like a champ and begged for more.

✦ 30/11/2023 (Im so sorry lmao) - 14/05/2024 ✦ ahegato ✦

#headcanons #obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date #ahegato #smut #satan smut #satan #obey me satan #obey me smut #smut headcanons #x reader

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lailawinchesterr · 1 day

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Silence in the city

summary: you’re going through a rough patch with your boyfriend Sam, and Dean is there to help you. Can you forgive Sam? Does your relationship with Dean evolve?

guys first time writing anything remotely sexual please don’t make me kms tysm! tw: not that explicit but kinda + rape but not described at all (by soulless Sam)

We’re on the couch with one of Dean’s ‘underrated’ movies playing. He already left with a quiet ‘goodnight’ a few minutes ago so when I look over at Sam to see him already watching me, I’m not surprised. And then I lean in, claiming his lips on mine and he doesn’t seem to mind so I do it harder, pulling him closer, and he leans down a little more so he doesn’t strain his neck then he pulls away and I whine at the loss of contact.

“You sure?” Sam asks and I smile at him, nodding. He’s sweet like that. We’ve waited at least two years but he still doesn’t mind waiting more. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, we don’t have to rush.”

“Maybe we don’t have to go all the way today, just a little. Just… kiss me, Sam.” He does and I reciprocate desperately. We didn’t talk much about safe words but before he lost his soul our main ones were ‘red’ and ‘green’, so we both assume it’s the same ones now.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans when I flip us over so I’m on his lap now. I move against him, pushing our bodies closer (if that’s possible), but still through our clothes. I don’t know how much I want to let Sam see today but I don’t reckon it’s a lot, so this will have to do.

His hands instinctively find my hips but I quickly push them off, holding them down onto the couch and moving a little faster, rougher, letting my head fall onto his shoulder. “Sammy…”

“Baby, can I kiss you?” I take a second to process his words before quickly picking my head up and leaning in, he connects our lips and his tongue slides over my bottom one, licking and waiting for an invitation. I grant it to him, removing my hands from their grip on his wrists so I can ground myself on his shoulders.

Fuck. We haven’t even touched each other in so long it’s embarrassing how fast I’m going to come. Sam pulls away for a second to speak, “Hey, fuck, you need to slow down, sweetheart, won’t last like this.”

“Glad I’m not the only one.” I let out a laugh but I don’t think he finds it as funny because his hands try to find my hips again but I quickly hold them in place on my thigh. “Okay, yeah.” I slow down my rhythm to basically nothing but we’re both still breathing heavily and into the other’s neck.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asks out of nowhere and I frown, still grinding on him softly, still panting, still out of breath and shaking and wet, “Talk to me.”

“What— shit— what do you mean?”

“Your hands. Are you scared? Sweetheart, Stop for a second.” I want to stop to listen to this riveting conversation about how much of a coward I am but I couldn’t even if he begged me to because I am just so so so close.

“Hey!” His hands fly to my waist and I freeze immediately, slapping both hands away with much more force this time.

“Stop it, Sam! Don’t touch my waist again, please.” My voice is all but inviting for any type of negotiation and he doesn’t looks like he wants to anyways, putting both of them up in defeat but staring right into my eyes

“What’s wrong? Why?”

“‘Cause…” I say as if that’s all the reason in the world and try to get off of him but he quickly shakes his head, evidently struggling to keep his hands to himself. I stay planted on his half-hard on.

“Can you just… can you not run away from this? Can we talk about it instead of forcing it?”

“No, I don’t want to.” And I do get off of him this time, leaning back into the couch. Now I’m wet and angry. Great, that’s just awesome.

“If you spent half as much time talking to me as you do avoiding it—”

“Yeah, well, you weren’t the one who was raped by your own fucking boyfriend so I hardly see how you’re an expert on the matter.” I can already feel the shocked expression and disappointment and hurt coming from him so I don’t bother looking, instead I stand up and walk to my room.

While walking back to my room I stopped by the kitchen to get some pills for the headache I know I’m going to get later and maybe some sleeping pills too.

Then I see Dean. Dean Winchester who we all thought was dead asleep in his bed was actually eating cherry pie in the kitchen a few feet from me and Sam’s fucking and fighting.

“Dean? What’re you doing up?”

“I didn’t go to sleep. Y’all just looked like you wanted to be alone so I bailed.” I nod and walk over to the fridge. I’m not certain about what I’m looking for but I’ll know it when I find it. “By the way,” I hear from behind me, barely, and i just hum in acknowledgment as I scour and— yes! Cereal! I take the milk out and go to the cupboards for the cereal.

Dean clears his throat, his mouth no longer full, “By the way, if you ever wanna talk, you know I’m here for you, right?”

I, honest to God, can’t think of one time in my entire life where Dean has said that to me and I’ve known the man for the better part of a decade.

“Sure…” My words aren’t sure but I hope he doesn’t pick up on that because I don’t mean to offend him, we just haven’t always been friends.

The first time I met Sam and Dean was on a hunt and neither of them trusted or liked me for the entirety of it. The fifth hunt we accidentally met on was when they finally let their guard down (to some extent) to see I was just an average hunter like they are. Though I hold nothing to the infamous Winchesters.

Even then, Dean was never my best friend. We never even spoke alone, mostly just when Sam was around. And even when I got with Sam a couple of months later, Dean had his doubts (which he made crystal clear) and kept a wall up ever so slightly. Only when I was ten months into dating Sam did Dean strike conversations when we were alone. We went on some hunts together without my boyfriend and we even texted sometimes. I think that was the biggest step to take with grandpa because man, does he hate to text.

There’s an exasperated breath then, “I’m serious.”

“Okay.” I nod once and assemble my bowl of lucky charms. Dean is a sweetheart, honestly, and attractive as hell, sure, but he’s also emotionally unavailable and extremely traumatized. Both of those qualities are ones I already handle with his brother, I don’t need a second Winchester to do take care of.

“I just mean that if you ever want to tell me anything about how you and Sam are doing—” Ah, there it is. The blatant need to protect Sam from everyone and everything. Not limited to those who love him, of course, because who could really ever love Sam more than his older brother?

“Sam’s fine, Dean.”

“I don’t mean just him. What about you? Are you fine?”

“Yes— why are you doing this? Why are you asking about me?”

When I look up from the counter Dean’s no longer eating, just staring at me, as if willing me to make eye contact. “‘Cause, you’re family, you know that, right?”

Family? Since when am I family? The most ‘family’ I’ve been to him is due to the fact that Sam fucks me occasionally and that I sleep in one of the many bedrooms in this shit hole. “Okay… thanks.”

“Fuck,” He rubs a hand over his mouth then gets up, walking over to me. He’s much closer now that I anticipated and I’m hardly doing anything to cover my hardened nipples or my too-low sweatpants that clearly show off my belly button piercing and white underwear straps.

“I can’t have you doubting that. I know I ain’t the best at this whole thing but you’ve always been family, ever since you helped with Cas—” that’s the second hunt we went on, “and then Charlie—” third hunt, “then you got with Sam and maybe I haven’t showed it but we do care about you. I care about you. I don’t just wanna know if Sammy’s okay, wanna know if you are too.”

I take a deep breath that maybe almost chokes me, “Yeah,” I don’t wanna cry in front of Dean. He’d just make fun of me, but I have so much to cry about it and I don’t know if I can hold it. “Yeah, Dean, I know.” Please God, don’t let my voice break. “I’m good, I’m okay. Thanks. I’m going— yeah, my room. I’m— okay, yeah, g’night.”

And I’ve never run out of a room so fast.

gonna post a part two later, not sure where I’m going with it though but this idea just popped into my head cause I love those two codependent freaks sm.

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passionateseadruid · 3 days

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Snake King's bride 4

⚠️CONTENT WARING: THERE WILL BE SOME MENTIONS OF PERIODS THIS CHAPTER! IT'S NOT THE WHOLE CHAPTER I'LL MARK WERE IT IS SO IF ANYONE IS UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT YOU CAN JUST SKIP. IT'S NOTHING GRAFFIC BUT I UNDERSTAND IF IT MIGHT MAKE SOME OF YOU UNCOMFORTABLE! ALSO FORCED KISSING FROM HERE ON OUT!⚠️ Sometimes I need to write shit for myself okay!

Two weeks had past since you'd met Charlie and Renesmee and her wife (Nina) had started to work for you. Renesmee had become a maid to you. Waking you up, helping you pick out your outfit, and she and Nina would have breakfast with you the days Lucifer didn't make you breakfast.

Nina was a tall succubus. She had cotton candy pink skin and hot pink hair, and her horns resembled a heart but they pointed outward. Nina wore a slick leather outfit with a bulletproof vest and forearm and shin pads. For a succubus Nina wasn't particularly curvy but she was very tall, 7 feet tall in fact. You didn't exactly make the best first impression with her because the first thing you said was "Dang where did the WNBA hide you?"

Other than the scowl she had on her face she was always cordial at breakfast. And she seemed to get along well enough with Pluto the head of Lucifer's security.

////////////////////////////////////////

WARNING PERIOD CONTENT AHEAD!

One morning you awoke in a pool of your own blood with a splitting pain in your abdomen.

"I'm dying." You mumbled.

"DARLING WHAT'S WRONG?" Lucifer bursts in with a puff of red smoke. He sees you on the bed dark red, almost black, on the sheets. He was in his normal outfit, minus the hat, jacket and cane.

"I'm so glad I used your old shirt as my pajama's last night." You mumbled and got up. "Did- Charlie is half angel."

"Yes?"

"But then again Lilith was human wasn't she? Well you do know what a period is. Do you have anything to deal with this?"

"Oh your uh- I'll have someone clean up the sheets and blankets. How about I run a bath for you and make you some food?"

"I'll go run a bath and if you decide to make me food you can have Renesmee or Styx deliver it."

"Nonsense! And let them see your body, especially before I get to? Unthinkable. Why are you so mean to me?"

"You're the one who caused this asshole.

"Well now we know when you're ovulating, next month I can take care of this problem for you~" You rush to the bathroom and lock the door. "Think about it! For nine months you would get to eat whatever you wanted and you wouldn't have to deal with a period~"

"Please just get me some pain meds and pads!"

Before you appeared a light pink bottle and a glass. Outside the door you hear a big thud and when you crack the door you see packets of every type of hygiene product you might need. Tampons, pad with and without wings, thin and thick. You name it it was in there.

"At least he's not asking me what size pussy I wear." You rolled your eyes.

(A/n: That's so Adam core, I miss him so much. ;-;)

////////////////////////////////////////

OKAY IT'S OVER

You get out of the tub and wrap a towel around you and step into your room to change into some sweatpants and a zipper hoodie.

"You uh... you look comfy." You quickly turn around and see Lucifer standing in the doorway, pancakes in his hands. His cheeks were even more red then the clown circles he has.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"I-I didn't see anything! Really! You just look so comfy. I never got to see Lilith in anything that didn't show off her curves so seeing my bride to be in something that looks so soft is... different. A good different for sure! Can I... can I have a hug please? I just want to feel how soft it is."

"No."

He rolls his eyes. He walks over to a little mahogany table between the bed and the bathroom. Couches on either side. "You know, I don't get you. I've given you everything you could ask for and more. But you don't seem to care. You just sit around in the library or in your room all day. You're not trying to get to know me like you claim. And another thing, I know that you're not traditional. I may not know what your reason for telling these lies is but I know when you lie."

'That's right. One of his epithets is the father of lies.'

"Thank you for what you've done for me this morning. But I'd like to be left alone."

"As you wish darling." He takes his leave.

Nina and Renesmee walked in and you sat on one of the couches to eat the pancakes that Lucifer made for you. Renesmee cleaned up the room and you looked at her. "Hey do you need any help?"

"Miss please we go through this every day. I'm your maid, and I'm sure the king would prefer if you didn't lift a finger."

"I don't care what the king says. I don't want you to overwork yourself."

"I'm fine miss. I'm much more equipped to be a maid than my position in my old job. I'm quick and I like rolling around on the janitor cart."

"I still feel bad. I've never had a maid in my life. On top of that the king is okay with this unfair social system where Imps are looked down upon simply because of how they were born. I'm not going to participate in that just because it's how the way things are."

"Ahem!" Styx Calls from the doorway. "Sorry to interrupt but the king has sent some files over regarding the Halloween ball that will be held at the end of the month. He also sent a note. 'Sorry to drop this on you doll but Lilith was usually the one to handle planning the events we hosted. I've sent over everything we have regarding past years, please see to it by the end of the day and if you could select one of the couples costumes I've chosen for us to wear.' "

You took the files from them and looked through them. "Thank you Styx... here this is the costume I want." You hand a photo to them and start looking through the other files. You spend the rest of the day getting it ready, with the help of Renesmee and Nina of course. Ordering decoration, hiring a caterer, hiring temporary staff to help attendants, renting furniture, booking a band, and making a guest list.

"Do you guys think they'll play monster mash?" You ask the women.

"I don't know what that is, miss." Renesmee shook her head.

"Human music my love." Nina said monotonously.

"What do you think you two will wear?"

"Oh! uh..." Renesmee looked away bashfully.

"We're not coming." Nina said in the same tone.

"What? Why?" You asked disappointed.

"We get one night off we're not spending it at work." Nina glared at you.

"Okay, you don't have to come. I just thought it would be fun to have you two there." You dropped the issue.

////////////////////////////////////////

At the end of the month you (unwillingly) got ready for the party. You put on a short red dress with a sweetheart neckline and an under bust corset, along with a small white waist apron. Several stylists crowd around you. Lucifer had cast an illusion on you earlier that day to transform you identically to how you looked the day you went to the mall with him. One of the stylists curled your hair, one worked on your nails, one worked on your make-up (applying bright red lipstick and such) and the last was supervising and communicating with Lucifer's stylists.

"No Sharron! I told you we cannot compromise on the ears. Madam Rouge personally made these designs, she's going to be there tonight, and if everything is not to her liking she is going to have a fit.

...

Well the king should have thought about that before he ordered it.

...

If he thinks it embarrassing maybe HE should have picked out the costume.

...

That's not my problem, Sharron. Madam Rogue isn't going to accept excuses, especially not "He was trying to make her more comfortable".

...

Like I JUST SAID Sharron. If the king thinks the faux fur ears are itchy he has to deal with it.

...

I don't care if he's the king Sharron! Fine if you're being a pussy I'll deal with it. Put him on the phone."

"I can deal with it ma'am."

"Would you? Thank you sweetheart, you're such a gem." She mutes the phone for a second. "Keep this between you and me, I prefer you over Lilith. That lazy bitch would NEVER have dealt with His Majesty when he's having one of his temper tantrums." You take the phone and un mute him as she keeps rambling. "He's worse than Vox and Val I swear. I don't care what Velvette says, that bitch is a liar, or she gives herself too much credit."

(A/n: Velvette and Vox! My BBGs❤️ Fuck Valentino! he's a piece of💩)

"Hi." You say into the unmuted receiver. "How are you?"

"Hi Darling! Everything is fine but the ears and gloves are kind of itchy. I'm glad that Rogue didn't insist on something weird for the tail like a-"

"Okay! Okay! That's enough. Look I know it might be uncomfortable but it's just for one night."

"I want a kiss for being good then."

"Fine. I'll see you in five'"

"Bye Darling~"

About an hour into the night you left Lucifer talking to some of his friends to go find some food. He wore all gray with wolf ears, claws, and a tail (attached to a belt; a tight leather one-piece with a faux fur collar; and some boots. You brought your red hood over your face to try to ward of lingering eyes trying to catch a peak at Lucifer's new bitch.

You looked back to the couple that he was talking to. An Imp almost his height with a green jester cap and a black and white stripped suit; paired with a tall demon with three faces dressed in a big ruffled red dress that had an open shirt in the front with pants.

You wandered around, looking at other people's costumes and trying to find the snack bar. That Madam Rouge lady had dressed up as Glenda from the wizard of Oz. There was a guy with a TV head who was dressed up like batman in the corner making out with a tall guy dressed up as the Joker. With a girl dressed up as Harley Quinn filming the whole thing.

You looked away and saw Charlie in a Green shirt with a big M on it and a matching tutu and bow and a girl next to her with gray skin and white hair dressed identically but in brown.

You wanted to make your way over to them but as soon as Charlie saw you she ran. You followed her to try and explain yourself. To try and see if she could get you out of Hell.

"That's her Vaggie!"

"Hun calm down."

"Dad's breaking all the rules for a woman he just met!"

"We don't know that."

"Vaggie! She's human! Living human souls aren't allowed in either of the afterlife's. My mom had to be turned into the first Succubus to even survive in Hell. This is breaking so many conventions. If he makes a deal for a soul he has to devour the person's soul or kill them and drag them to hell. He has a living human with him!"

'He certainly wants to devour me but not in the way you think Charlie.' you think.

"Maybe it's a misunderstanding. You could ask him."

"How can I ask him about her after I blew up at him!? How could he take a girl so young to be his wife? Vaggie she's so young she could be my grand kid!"

"Yeah but you've been alive for thousands of years Charlie. I don't think normal rules apply here."

"I just... wish that she had more time to experience independence before being thrust into this."

"He seems happy." This Vaggie girl said.

"I suppose. And I want him to be happy. He deserves to be happy. And she did invite us. Maybe she wants this. Okay. I'll go apologize to dad and tell him he has my blessing.

'Abort mission! Abort Mission!' You turn and run. You run so far away from the ball room you realize you've found yourself at the guest bathrooms.

"Wow! Hello cutie~" you turn around and see a man dressed as a vampire. "May I just say I love the costume! You're Luci's girl huh? What made you two want to be little red ridding hood and the big bad wolf."

"I felt it fitting. Him being a predator and me being his victim."

"Okay that turned dark real quick. Sold your soul to him huh?"

"No. I was sacrificed, by someone I thought was my friend."

"Oof. That's tough."

"I want to get away from him so badly." You confess. "I'm tired of him love bombing me steady."

"Maybe I can help. The names Agamemnon! I'm an up and coming overlord of Hell You sell your soul to me and I'll make sure you never have to talk to him again." He holds out his hand.

"Deal." You take his hand without thinking about it for even a second.

He takes off your cape, draping it over his arm and wraps his coat around you.

He led you through the ballroom toward the exit, and just when you are at the desolate foyer you two are blinded by a bright flash and when the light fades you look to Agamemnon and see that he is no longer standing nest to you, a pile of dust in his place, covering your red cape. You look back and see a seething Lucifer. His horns popped out, a small flame burning in between them, a halo surrounding his horns. His eyes were red, and he has puffing out smoke from his huffs.

He walked up to you and ripped off the coat burning it to ashes in an instant. He pulled the red cape back on you and grabbed on your wrist. "How DARE you! You sold your soul to a filthy SINNER? I've tried to be good. I've tried to seduce you. I've let you have your space. I've spoiled you. I was willing to give you time to fall in love with me. And yet apparently it hasn't been good enough for you. You know what? No more! You will be my wife, you will have my children, and you will LOVE ME!!" He pulled you back to the ball room. "If you say anything in there to ANYONE I'll kill your entire fucking family." He burst in and pulled you up on stage with him. "Attention everyone!" He smiled and continued. "We have an exciting announcement for you all! My beautiful bride and I are getting married in six months!" Your blood ran cold. For trying to run away he cut your time to escape in half. He knows what you're trying to do, but he needs time to prepare a wedding. He just got back into Charlie's good graces so he can't rush a wedding and mess things up.

For the rest of the night You stood next to him, his arm gripping your waist in a death grip, getting congrats and passive aggressively asking for an invitation.

"Hi..." Charlie came up to you and her dad. "I know that we didn't start off on the wrong foot, I've apologized to dad but I'd like to apologize to you as well."

"No that's okay. I grew up on the evil stepmom trope. I wouldn't blame you if you tried to shoot me with a shotgun but accidentally shot your dad and tried to frame me. I get it."

"Okay?"

"Have you never seen legally blonde?"

"No?"

"Oh, sorry to spoil the ending then."

"Anyway, I'm happy to have you join the family." She pulled you in for a hug. You hugged back as to not piss off Lucifer any more than you already had.

After the party Lucifer carried you to his room. you protested profusely and he threw you onto the bed. He held you down and snapped his fingers as your costume swapped into that of one of your night gowns. Your costume laid forgotten on his bed floor. He threw off his clothes and stayed in his boxers. "Don't get this twisted. This is not fun sexy times. I'm boing to hold you here tonight to make sure you understand that YOU. ARE. MINE."

"okay..." You nodded obediently. He pulled the covers over you both and wrapped his arm around you. His chest to four back.

"Goodnight doll. I hope you have sweet dreams of me~"

You said nothing as you cried yourself to sleep.

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