#maybe one day i will clean this up but that day is not today

[calaisreno]

Bottles

Note: I have two stories today because I couldn't make up my mind.

This one is sad (alcoholism, Sad John, Not Dead Sherlock, reunion, reconciliation, rehab. No MCD). The next one (Imagine) is much happier.

887 words / Prompt: Empty

He’s forgotten where he lives. 

He hasn’t forgotten the little house in Clapham where his bed is, but as usual, his feet have taken him to Baker Street. That only happens when he’s been drinking. Well, it happens all the time these days. 

Pockets, pockets. He still has a key, but he can’t find it. 

“Lost it,” he says to himself. This seems true, and certainly describes his entire life these days. Since. After. 

Lost it. He’s lost it.

It’s cold, almost November. Maybe it is November. If he closes his eyes— he does— he remembers another November. Back. Before. 

Maybe he doesn’t have a bed now. He doesn’t have a job, so it’s quite possible that the house he remembers, the one with the bed and his clothes and a telly that doesn’t work, maybe that’s gone too. All his stuff, gone. 

Sherlock gone. 

He’ll cry if he thinks about that. 

He’s already is crying. 

The ground is suddenly closer than he thought. That’s because he’s sitting on the kerb outside 221B Baker Street. His face is wet and the ground is cold and he doesn’t have a place to sleep and all his stuff is gone. 

“Why did you die?” If he were sober, he’d just ask inside of his head, and the Sherlock that lives there would say something cryptic. 

You’re worried they’re right.

Heroes don’t exist.

Alone protects me.

It’s my note.

Mind Palace Sherlock. No, John has never had a Mind Palace. Nothing so grand. He doesn’t have a palace, not even one tiny bedsit now. 

If he went home, if he had a home, he could sit in his chair and close his eyes and pretend Sherlock didn’t die. 

He pulls the bottle out of his pocket. Nearly empty. He could drink it all in one swallow. 

No, he already has. 

The bottle clinks on the pavement. He tries to be careful when he puts them in the recycling bin, not let them clink against one another. That sound bothers him, shames him that there are so many. 

Ashamed, he sits on the kerb, his feet in the road. Maybe he should just lie down in the road. Nobody would be surprised if he died that way. Better than a bullet. Better than drinking himself to death. 

Rising to his feet, he sways. It’s a bad idea, standing up, but he wants to lie in the middle of the road and go to sleep. And never wake up. 

He grasps at the air, trying to regain his balance, and finds he’s leaning against a car. A black car. The door opens and someone gets out. 

Well, this will be embarrassing. For both of us.

Mycroft doesn’t pick up drunks. When necessary, he has people who do that for him. People who do his dirty work, clean up the vomit and wipe the blood off the upholstery. 

No, they’re not getting into the car. The dirty work bloke is carrying him towards the door.  And there’s Mycroft with the key, opening it. 

“I’ve got you, John,” the dirty work bloke says. “You’re okay. You’re fine.”

He smells so familiar. That coat. “Sherlock,” he whispers. “Don’t be dead.”

He’s floating up. Up, up. It feels nice. The way home used to feel.

So gently, he’s laid down in a bed. A hand strokes his hair. “John.”

He’s crying. “Stop being dead.”

“Hush, John. I’m not dead. Remember? I came back.”

“But… but.” He’s not in the street. Clue: no cars. Soft. Warm. Ah, bed. 

Someone is putting a pillow behind his head. It’s nice. 

“John, sit up and have some water.”

“I got married,” he announces. “Did I get married?”

“You did.” 

It’s the voice he remembers, the one that gives him shivers. “Am I dead?”

“No, you’re not.” A hand on his hair. “Hush, you’re safe. Rest now.”

In the other room, they’re talking softly to one another. 

“How many times, Sherlock? He needs medical care. Rehab.”

“No, Mycroft. No hospitals. I’ll take care of him. Molly’s got Rosie for now, and Harry’s coming tomorrow.”

“Don’t be selfish, Sherlock. Are you sure this is what he’d want?”

Their voices are quieter now, further away. 

“I have to fix this. I want to.”

“Well, then. I’ll leave you to it. Call me.”

In the silence, he drifts. He and Sherlock were in a pub, he thinks. 

No, they were playing a game. I’m you, aren’t I?

He’s chasing a hound through the mist…

Sherlock is standing on the roof...

A gunshot, and he runs… don’t be dead…

Stay with me…

Goodbye, John…

He sobs. “Why are you still dead? I asked you to come back.”

He feels himself gathered into strong arms. “I heard you. I’m here.”

“Every time you say that, you leave me. Every time, you’re dead.”

He touches the face he loves. His fingers come away wet. Sherlock is crying. 

“Please, John. You have to stop this. Stay with me, please.”

I’m not the one who leaves, he thinks. I’m the one who’s alone.

“All right.” Sighing, he leans into the vision. They’re standing under a starry sky, and it’s beautiful. Sherlock is beautiful. 

“I love you,” he says, smiling up at him. “Always meant to say. I love you.”

Sherlock kisses him “I love you too. Stay with me.”

--

Please read the next one too! Imagine. A 1024-word fixit for Series 3-4.

[justalittletotheleft]

had another accident last night (つ﹏<。)

i got maybe a little too high, and ended up getting a little messy playing in a packed pamper… not the point though! i chose to mess my diapers! it’s different!

so i had to take a shower, clean all the mess off and whatnot before tucking in for bed.

in the shower, i remember thinking “oh i might just go without a diaper tonight! i’ve only wet in my sleep a few times, and that diaper was soaked i probably got it all out!”

fucking irony i guess ):

i got out of the shower and dried off, then decided to grab my old diaper and throw it in the kitchen trash to take out tomorrow. so. like an idiot. i squat down in front of the diaper to wrap it up.

i was just so high, i didn’t even register that i was wetting myself for a few seconds, i just thought the old diaper was leaking or something? i don’t know…

in hindsight, i should’ve put on a pull-up right out of the shower, or went directly from shower to diaper.

i just. literally have no choice but diapers. genuinely my bladder seems to be getting weaker by the fucking day. the reason i didn’t have anymore accidents today? i was diapered the entire day. even going to the gym! don’t you know how embarrassing it is to try doing squats and just hearing your diaper crinkle? but literally it’s either that or ten loads of of laundry a day to accommodate all the boxers i go through.

i ordered more diapers today too. i got cute ones, but i think i need to start looking at everyday wear stuff. cause i can’t even imagine bending down at work and someone seeing the waistband of a pink puppy diaper. i would literally transfer schools. maybe just go online like that one ask recommended…

but when push comes to to shove, i think i did this to myself. no one made me listen to pantswetter hypnosis for 3 months. no one made me buy and wear diapers for this long. maybe it’s all the holds and the constant soda i drink. who knows, maybe my body just wants this.

i deserve whatever humiliating comments or teasing anons i get. i forced myself into diapers. what kind of 20yr old academic wants to be unpotty trained? i’d flunk out if there were any courses on keeping my pants dry.

[thetraumaking]

The Accursed Crown

Other Chapters

Chapter 12

Though Azula didn’t notice it at the spur of the moment, she did sustain a burn of her own during her little welcome. The sudden increase of heat and her blue flames has caused a burn on the palm of her hand. She paid it no mind because she was preoccupied. 

She was happy. 

For once, she got to take care of you. When you were passed out, she dragged you back to your room. Though being only a child, she had to order a guard to assist her and call forth the palace doctor. 

They laid you on your bed before the doctor cut around the burnt skin. Not wanting your wound to be infected, he had to rip the infused fabric from your skin to be able to further treat it. While he was making small cuts on your chest, Azula stood by your side, observing the doctor as he worked in case he had any funny ideas. 

She wanted to be the one to treat you but she knew when to let the professionals take the lead. After receiving the ointment from him, she shooed him and the guard away so she could look after you. 

She ordered a maid to fetch her a bucket of cold water and a clean towel. She was adamant on staying by your side till you’ve regained consciousness. 

When night came, there was a knock at the door. Seeing that the both of you had missed dinner, she expected to see one of the servants asking for your whereabouts due to her grandfather’s orders. But when she opened the door to tell the servant off, she was met with the face of her mother. 

Ursa was surprised to see her in your room. Putting on a smile, “Good evening, dear. Is 6 not joining us for dinner?” She asked.

Before she could reply, Ursa pushed past her. Asking what happened to you and why she hasn’t reported the issue to her. Swallowing dryly, she crossed her arms, “We were sparring. You wouldn’t understand, you’re not a bender.”

“A typical sparring session wouldn’t leave someone unconscious and bedridden.” Ursa takes her place by standing by your bedside. A look of worry in her eyes as she looks down on you. 

“6 needs rest. You should go.” Azula states, her hands now balled by her sides. 

“How about you go eat dinner? I’ll stay behind and look after 6.” Ursa offers. “You just came back from the academy and I doubt you had any supper on that ship. Why don’t you rest up for today and you can care for 6 when you wake up?”

“No, I’m caring for 6. I need to clean and bandage-” 

“I can do that but you might find it difficult. You are a child, my dear, so go eat with your family.” Ursa ushered. 

Before she could retort, there was yet another knock at the door. Her and Ursa were at a stalemate. Neither moved or spoke as they held each other's gazes as a voice spoke from behind the door. “Princess Azula, the Fire Lord and his highness, Prince Ozai, requests your presence in the dining hall. They wish to discuss your first year at the Royal Academy.” 

Her fists clenched harder, she could feel her nail embedding deeper into her palm. The pain doubled when she pressed too hard, her nails dug through the burnt flesh of her damaged palm. Her anger flared even more so when she saw the corner of her mother’s lip twitch. 

“You see? Your father and grandfather missed you.” Ursa cooed. She walked near Azula and nudged her towards the door. “Go enjoy your evening, dear.”

She knows she can’t disobey her grandfather, the Fire Lord. Clicking her tongue, she slapped her mother’s hand away before stomping to the exit. 

When she slammed the door open, a startled noise leaves from the back of the servant’s throat. She glared up at the insolent man before glancing back at you. 

Her eyes were on you as the door drew shut. 

But just before it was fully shut, a single drop of her blood fell when she saw Ursa caressing your cheek. 

Maybe it’s not too late to care for you. 

The next day, when she woke up early just for you. You were already gone and in your stead, laid Ursa. There were bloodied bandages on the nightstand, the bucket of water she had previously ordered now murky with blood and grime. Ursa’s daily wear was carelessly dropped on the floor, while the owner herself was in her night robe, peacefully sleeping in your bed, under your sheets. 

Now the question remains, where were you?

Purposely slamming the door as hard as possible, Azule went on a search for you. 

There aren’t many places where you would, or could, wander off to. 

First, there is the study, where you either taught her the basics of war tactic and soldier manoeuvre, or where you would sight off on documents and plan battle procedures. When she went there, all she could see were scattered papers and multiple arrays of scrolls only you knew what was where. 

Second was the kitchen, though she didn’t bother going there since you usually prefer not to eat breakfasts, unless you were specifically ordered to or wanted to cook for her. 

Third was the war room. Where negotiations and battle tactics were supposed to be discussed, but as of late, the council members have gone lazy and hadn’t thought of anything original. The meeting room is now where they make you brief on your plans and vote on the one they like the most. 

Damn old geezers. 

She noticed the deep eyebags that you now lugged around. How many sleepless nights have you spent doing their job? Going up and beyond expectations? She had brought the issue up at last night’s dinner to her grandfather. It’s only a matter of time for him to make a decree of either replacing the old farts or giving you a much deserved promotion for your hard work. 

When she made it past her pillar, she quickly turned around. You were not there. The doors were open and they only closed when someone was inside. 

Fourth, the place she had the highest hope for, was the private training ground of yours. A place full of memories, both bitter and sweet, though there are more fond ones where she would get one on one training from you. 

Her steps came to a halt when she saw you panting in the middle of the ground. You were not dressed in the proper attire to train nor to walk around in broad daylight.

Similar to her bandaged hand, your chest was tightly wrapped in gauze. Your eyes were red and the exposed skin you had were covered in welts from either rubbing or scratching. 

Sighing, she marched forward. 

She knew this would happen. This is the usual outcome from when you are left alone with her mother. 

The surrounding sand had now turned to glass as she drew near your panting form. The bandages must have made it hard for you to do your breathing technique. 

“What did mother do?” She curiously asked. 

“… nothing. Her highness simply cleaned and cared for my wound… nothing else.”

“liar.”

Your lips made a thin line. You straightened your back before standing up straight. 

As she held eye contact, she noticed you building your guard back up. With her bandaged hand, she placed it over your chest, right above the centre of your wound where you were hit. 

“I will not apologise nor am I ashamed.” She stated coolly.

You place your hand over hers, pressing them onto your burn, making the wounds sting. “And I will not ask for it.”

When she drew her hand back, there was her bloodied smudge left on your white bandage. 

“Good.”

Because without you, she wouldn’t be the way that she is now. 

[anime-love31]

(Inspired by @verses-of-v ‘s post I just randomly scrolled by today.. and I felt drawn to write it)

——————————————

Vergil stepped out of the ash covered ground.. where the roots once stood. It had taken at least a full year for the twins to kill the qliphoth entirely.. and reality had set in.. just how much damage he had caused. Maybe power wasn’t everything.. he dusted himself off.. not that it even helped.. he was covered in so much blood it had practically stained his skin. His eyes left his younger brother as he scoffed.. kicking a boot into the ground.. he was muttering to himself. Vergil hated to even look around.. but he had to. He had to see the reality of what he did. Taking in the sights of cars and houses left shattered and abandoned.. what was left of what the fire didn’t consume.. how many lives he took. How many families he ruined.. how many children he left without families.. that guilt sat on his chest.. maybe that was v inside him kicking up the fire in his soul.. but there was absolutely nothing he could do to fix it.. he fucked up Redgrave city until nothing was left. He walked behind Dante.. practically silent.. he had a long long time to spend with his brother in hell. He felt Dante understood him and he understood Dante. There was no part of Vergil left unchecked.. in his solitude thoughts.. he stepped on a picture that was buried in the rubble.. and he kneeled down to pick it up.. through the shattered glass.. it was a picture of a family.. two bright eyed boys and a mother.. Vergil felt the wet, hot tear run down his face as he looked at the picture. It took almost a year of constant pain for him to accept Eva really did die looking for him that day.. he came to realize.. his father Sparda would be rolling in his grave at the way Vergil had acted.

Vergil quietly followed behind Dante.. back to where devil may cry still stood.. the front illuminated faintly. When he heard Dante speak.. was the first time his thoughts had stopped.. “hey.. Nero did take care of it..” Vergil lifted his head.. and it seems Dante was right.. the DMC mobile van still parked outside.. Dante and Vergil sat down on the steps.. how did he even began to speak.. about any thing.. he pulled the broken Yamato off his back.. a year straight of fighting demons has left the former god sword.. broken.. chipped beyond repair. Vergil set it down.. and realized by now once again.. he was alone, Dante had wandered into the building. Vergil didn’t know how to express these feelings.. hatred.. blinding anger.. Vergils chest tightened.. and when he exhaled.. it was more than that.. it was a loud.. deep, blood chilling scream. He slammed his fist into the concrete so hard the concrete crumbled and blood dripped out of his knuckles. He was thrown into a fit of rage. The first person to find Vergil.. was the one he really owed the world to make up lost time.. Nero. Vergils head snapped toward Nero when Nero took him by both sides of his face, holding him steady. Nero’s words came out quickly “hey.. Vergil.. Vergil.. hey.. look at me.”

And that’s when Vergil lost it.. hot tears ran down his face.. he had screamed so hard.. so deep.. blood trickled behind the hot tears.. Nero was quick to grab a clean towel out of the van.. and held it to Vergils left eye, wiping the blood, he held Vergil by the jaw, tending to the wound, Nero shook his head. “You busted something..” Vergil was still feeling so overwhelmed, he couldn’t help but just cry.. cry so hard he couldn’t breathe. So hard he almost puked when Nero let his face go to check his eye, Vergil was leaned over, drawing deep, heavy heaves. The world was spinning. Nero sat down beside him.. and finally wrapped his arms around him, he felt like that’s what Vergil needed.. and that’s when Vergil really lost it.. he practically collapsed into Nero.. in between floods of tears he spoke. “Nero.. I.. I can’t.. ever.. fix what.. I did.. to you.. to the city.. to the innocent.. lives I.. so ruthlessly took.. I can’t fix any of this.. I can’t ever.. even think about.. starting.. I can’t.. bring people back.. I can’t fix lives.. children’s lives.. I can’t fix.. nothing.. I can’t repay anything..”

Vergil was literally sobbing in a ball on the ground.. screaming.. crying.. he even threw up at one point.. it was just messy.. yet Nero stayed.. pulling Vergils blood soaked jacket off, and gently rubbing a hand across his back.. it had taken Nero that full year.. to even want to see Vergil.. he still wasn’t happy about the whole arm thing.. but it fixed itself.. and it made Nero’s heart heavy to see Vergil.. so broken. Dude couldn’t even stand to his own feet without collapsing back to his knees.. it took Dante and Nero both lifting Vergil.. to even get him to his feet.. he felt so anguished.. Dante carried the broken Yamato.. and they carried Vergil into the shop. The place they took him was the bathroom.. and they set Vergil in the floor.. Dante took over.. Nero went to find Kyrie.. to make some dinner for everyone. Dante managed to strip the broken Vergil.. without Vergil even fussing.. he turned on the water.. and left Vergil just to soak under the hot water for a while.. even if he wasn’t willing to wash or shower.. at least the hot water could start working on the many layers of blood that caked Vergil’s skin.. eventually Nero came back in.. and sat down, leaning over the tub edge, tossing a towel over Vergil’s waist, he scrubbed Vergils silvery white hair with some of his soap, working until the blood ran out of Vergil’s hair, humming softly.. something he heard on the jukebox in the van.. bury the light.. he spoke to Vergil..”Dad..” even the words stunned Nero.. “look up so I can help”.

Vergil let Nero clean his face.. the bruises and scars.. the cuts.. he let Nero wash his face and neck up with soap.. he had cried so much.. he was almost dehydrated.. after Nero poured some warm water across Vergil’s soapy face, he got up, and grabbed a water out of the cabinet they kept for emergencies, and twisted off the lid, tilting Vergil’s head back and giving him the drink. Vergil drank it down, tears still trickling down his face. Nero continued to scrub Vergil down until he could see his skin, watching the blood run down the drain.. he sighed softly, and slicked Vergil’s hair back out of his face.. Nero helped Vergil to his feet, speaking as he turned his back to grab a big, fluffy towel for Vergil.. “you can’t fix what you did.. but you can start fresh.. a new man.. on a new day..”. Nero wrapped the towel around Vergil’s shoulders and let the warm towel encase him, Vergil.. appreciatively nuzzled into the warmth of the big towel.. and nodded.. just a little.. when he spoke.. his voice broke.. “Nero.. thank you..”. Nero gazed back at his father in the mirror.. he could see the red eyes.. and he gave his soft, playful smirk. “Come on.. you godless heathen.. Kyrie made dinner.. and made plenty to feed half demons~” he spoke before he handed some clothes to Vergil.. a long sleeve shirt and some sweats. Nero bent down and gathered Vergil’s bloody ones.. and left the bathroom with them. Leaving Vergil.. to take some time and enjoy the warmth.. that small things like fluffy towels brought.. new start.. Vergil could live a life not driven by hate and power lust.. he just needed to take that first step.. and bury the Vergil he was..

[acheron-s]

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 — 𝗪𝗜𝗞𝗜𝗛𝗢𝗪: 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗘𝗟𝗟 𝗔 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗣 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗚𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗗 𝗦𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗟𝗞𝗦 𝗢𝗡!

𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 . kiki bennet!

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 . fem!reader , kiki is a flustered MESS , sad pathetic lisergirl my fav <3 , reader can be rosa but not specified .

𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 — WHY DOES NO ONE WRITE FOR THE FEMALE NPCS IN TOT ESP KIKI urghhh i'll be the one to provide for my sweet angel as she's the first woman i've loved in tot .

It started with longing gazes, and KIKI BENNET finds herself falling more in love with her senior every passing day.

kiki ml: "senior! you're running a bit late today... are you alright?"

kiki ml: "i know you were overworking again! please take care of yourself!!"

The girl bites her lips, her glasses sliding down as her eyes dart left and right looking out for both celestine taylor and artem wing, her bosses. She waits impatiently for the other girl's response, feeling her heart constrict and ache.

kiki ml: "please, atleast leave me on read so i know you're okay!"

kiki ml: "please! answer me!"

The truth is, kiki has always wanted to be the one her crush looked at oh, so dearly. She wanted to be on the receiving end of her kisses, her warm hugs, she wanted it all. As time pressed on, her heart hammered in concern as she finally grabbed her phone and left.

ms. bennet: "miss celestine! i'm heading out for a bit from the firm! something came up!"

The woman had nothing in her mind but the woman she yearned for, concerned for her safety, her legs burned and her body pleaded her to stop, but kiki's heart only wanted to run faster. After what felt like an eternity, she reached the home of her crush, panting and sweaty.

A hand over her chest to calm her breathing, she wipes off the sweat on her forehead, using the spare key you gave her to enter your home. Her heart breaks into two as her eyes wander over your house, messy clothes, dirty dishes, empty wine bottles.

She ran to your barely awake drunk form, cradling you close. A sigh in her throat, she begins to dress you into something comfortable, her cheeks burning bright red. She wipes off your messy makeup and hauls you off to bed, tucking you in.

Then, she begins cleaning your house, washing the dishes and folding your laundry, she admires your asleep form for a while, only to slap herself. 'What am I doing?! She's going to think I'm such a creep! '

As the day goes on she stays by your side, only leaving for a few minutes to grab her laptop and completes her work, sitting by your bed the entire time. She does, eventually fall asleep, her glasses falling on her laptop.

She's in a for a surprise when she wakes up tho, for you just saw her search history when you were going to charge her laptop, the next day, feeling so grateful for the woman you loved — 𝗪𝗜𝗞𝗜𝗛𝗢𝗪: 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗘𝗟𝗟 𝗔 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗣 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗚𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗗 𝗦𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗟𝗞𝗦 𝗢𝗡?

Maybe the bucket she brought for your hungover self would be used by her. Not a moment longer, will you yearn for her. No, you will make her yours.

[odairsangel]

IMAGINATIONS (or reality) / r. cameron

warnings: smut, profanity, virgin, cream-pie daydream, feral sex daydream, degradation, praise, mentions of size kink but not really related to the story

a/n: didn't do a proofread.

——————

You and Rafe had been dating, he took things slow since you where a virgin but one day, he just couldn't help but want to fuck your little virgin-cunt, he would start moving when you thought you were done again, growling and panting into your neck, rutting into you like a damned animal.

Dragging your hips up so he could get a better angle to fuck into and maybe he snarls as he pounds into his cunt as he cums again, shuddering the whole way. by the time he's done with you your hole is dripping and im almost crying into the bed with how good it all feels while he cleans you up.

But that was just his imagination, what was yours? Is a question he always wanted to ask but never wanted to ask. He still was taking it slow, or maybe he was just going to push you today to see what you would do, maybe you two would get to fuck. Maybe.

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

“Hey, y/n can you come to my office?” Rafe’s voice reverberated off the walls as he shifts in his spinning chair. As his office door cracks open and he sees your face—it was like immediate sunshine, he smiled softly “Hi, baby.”

“Hi Rafey.” You stepped in the room smiling and in a love daze. “Your really beautiful in that suit.” Carefully, you walk to stand behind his chair, your fingertips massaging into Rafe’s scalp.

Rafe let out a low hum, almost a purr, "You look real pretty in my hoodie, baby."—it was true though, you where wearing one of his black 'Carhartt' hoodies, and to make it worse you where wearing a pair of shorts you were doing things to him, and you didn't even know.

You weren't completely innocent yourself, you loved comparing hand sizes, you loved how your body slotted perfectly into his arms, it was something that turned you on, you were just to shy to ask for help when it came to your needs. "Thank you, Ray." You whispered nuzzling your nose into his short buzzcut.

Without a warning you felt him pull you into his lap "I know we've been taking it slow and shit, but can you help me? It's alright if you say no." Rafe massaged you scalp, letting you melt in his arms.

You nodded lightly, maybe cock-whipped, but it was fine. "I wanna help you, Ray." You played with the hem of your shorts. Nervousness hit you fast as you crawled down on your knees, you where practically under his desk as he unzipped his work pants, slowly working his way to his Cavin Klein boxers.

Once his boxers hit the floor his cock nearly hit your face, letting making you let out a small whine. Rafe grips your hair into a makeshift ponytail, abusing his cock down your throat. “Good.. good girl.” He lets out a low groan. He keeps your head on his cock, bopping up and down.

“Mm.. ‘m so close baby.” Before you could muffle back a answer he released his load in your mouth “C’mon, swallow it.” He pulls your chin up, closing your mouth, forcing you to swallow his load.

The salty aftertaste filled your mouth, making you gag—you weren’t used to the taste, after all. “Mm. Can we go take a shower, Ray?” You whined out.

“Yeah of course, baby.” He took off his blazer, wearing his button-up long sleeved shirt, which of course as per usual he was fine as hell doing it. He stood up, hoisting you onto him. "Let's getcha all cleaned up." He walked to the bathroom, setting you down.

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

The shower let out a hiss as Rafe twisted the knob to make sure it wasn't to hot nor to cold, after all; he didn't want his precious baby to get burned or freeze, or any hypothetical that probably wouldn't happen. But precautions couldn't hurt any body, right? Yeah. "Alright, undress f'me." Rafe murmured, unbuttoning his shirt, then taking off his pants along with his boxers.

"Rafey, can you help me with my bra?" You giggled teasingly, you knew damn well how to take off your bra, you just felt like being a fucking tease. Then that grin he always gave you, that knowing grin. "Actually, Ray. Nevermind." "Nah baby" "Ray, please. Not here."

"Nah since you wanna be a fucking tease 'm gon' treat you like a slut 'cause you been fuckin' 'round to much and I ain't been punishing you f'ya teasing." He unclipped your bra, tugging at the waistbands of your shorts "No underwear? You fuckin' slut. I thought I bought you some." Rafe roughly shoves you into the sink, bending you over. He had gripped your hair in a tight grasp, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror.

"Ray!" You whined out as you felt his length press into you. You rolled your head against his shoulder as he thrusted into you, for a second your head stayed on his shoulder, before her grabbed your hair, forcing your face down to make you look at yourself in the mirror.

"Stop fuckin' moving, and stop clenching. 'M gon cum in you without getting a good few 'ol thrusts in, yeah?" Rafe abused his way into you, your little once-virgin cunt throbbing at every thrust, his hand forcing your head down. "You like that, yeah?" You shake your head no, making Rafe stop "Baby, what's wrong, did it hurt?" "Mhm" "Want me to go slower?" "Mhm" And so he did. Sure he had a rough nature, but since you were a virgin and this was your first time, he didn't want you to have a bad experience.

"Tha.. thank you!" You mewled out as he thrusted into you "Ray!" You gripped the sinks edge. He thruste painfully slowly, part of it because it was your first time, part of it because he felt like it.

"Can I go a little faster baby?" Rafe whispered into your ear as he gripped your hair. Your head was pulsating with a headache, it felt like your brain had a heart. "Or do you needa cum, I'm not one to judge."

"You can go faster, 'm be alright, but 'm close." You grunted out as he sped up, the pain going away but your headache growing, your head was pounding furiously, a feel more thrusts and you released your load not shortly after Rafe did.

Your stained glassy face glimmered in Rafe's point of view, maybe what he wanted didn't come true, but he got pretty damn close "God baby, you so fuckin' fine." He ran his hand over your hair, untangling it with his hands. "'m gon go grab you some clothes, I'll be right back." He walks away to grab clothes

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

Curled up in yours and Rafe's bed, watching Rio, the first one, specifically because you'd been wanting to rewatch it anyway—no matter how childish it may have seemed to any once else, Rafe found it fucking adorable watching you curled up under his grip, watching the movie intensely.

"You like that movie baby girl?" Rafe whispered into your hair.

You nodded "Mhm. My favorite movie." You curled closer to Rafe, enjoying the moment until you drifted into a soft sleep, making Rafe let out a chuckle.

"Night, baby girl. See you in the morning." Rafe whispered into your ear, pecking a kiss on your forehead before turning off the movie, falling asleep with you.

[sillylumpus]

their yuri is so real to me

[its-hai-time]

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[mumbledramblings]

it is 4:30AM. why do I do this to myself

[faa-xo]

Chaotic duo and their monsters❤️ Drawing this the first time I actually paid attention to how weird withers are

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[softshuji]

eldest daughter syndrome really do be kicking my ass tbh

[jade-of-mourning]

*shakes a tin can that makes metallic sounds as two coins move inside it* Halvar??? Spare some Halvar sir?? *coughs pathetically as I have to hug ny coat tighter* Please, I need some Halvar...

anything for you bro, trust me bro i'm a crippling tryhard (when i say fancy i mean somethjng i'm incapable of drawing but still wanted to draw) (i got hella lazy by day two which is to say that i gave up on details i hate details so much) (ignoring canon like a fuckin pro (haha csh reference get it-)) (i lost my arrow key im sad) (i'm committed to stimulating this economy) (i was high on caffeiene when i started this drawing last night until three am) (my ability to draw scenery is extremely subpar so i decided that maybe i should like,,, attempt to change that eventually. it's a work in progress)

favorite cuts below :>

i'm ngl i wanted to do the gathering thing but i'm exceptionally bad at using color palletes and the color pallete scared me so i just didn't

ft. my refusal to comply with canon (not out of defiance against flonkerton's word but actulaly out of pure dumbassery)

idk how to draw like,,, houses. they're kinda just random lines. it's funny cuz as i was drawing them i was thinking about how people talking about how to distinguish ai art and my brain went "wow my shapes are so indistinguishable i must look like even more of a chatgpt user than the guy at my school who wrote his grad speech using it"

also i would've been drawing more ships if i wasn't brain dead but it's too late

i color picked from some picture but i kind of forgot where i left the picture so uhh yeah

[hannahchronism]

Mermay: Week One!

I am not following any particular prompt list or theme or anything (although I have found a style of tail I really enjoy designing lol) and I am having sooo much fun playing around with brushes and render styles.

[buggyandthebartoclub]

@guilty-sugar he’s so glad you asked!!

“How’s option 2, Sugar??” (Option 1 here | ref for costume here )

TRICK OR TREAT HERES A TRICK HAHAHAH 👻

[arolesbianism]

Sier? I haven’t even met her! Laugh.