#rose water benefits

[beauty-service]

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[glow-getter-gazette]

Rose water has been a beauty secret for centuries, cherished for its delicate fragrance and remarkable benefits. But what exactly is rose water.

[majorworlddelhi]

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[theveryworstthing]

SpaceDancer's request for parasitic roses and Camille Alexander's request for unicorn fops created Angelique.

i now present my newest Charming Little Freak ✨

Angelique is one of those beings that isn't cleanly classified as a fae or a demon. he/it/whatever (roses are perfect plants and so it mostly goes by the pronouns common for the additional sex of his host body in human society because they couldn't care less) is a Rampant. a type of sapient parasitic rose that, over time, transforms the body of their host from a simple quadruped beast to bipedal humanoid (kinda) monster. every Rampant seems to mold themselves into unique forms, and designs often carry over if they somehow manage to get "uprooted" without dying and have to start over with a new flesh body. if Rampants stay rooted then they're borderline immortal even though their hosts are...dead? it's unclear. the Rampant certainly carries memories of what it was like being an animal and their flesh and blood is altered, but alive. the body keeps the score whether they like it or not. but the beast itself, its mind, dies quickly after a Rampant takes root. either from the trauma from becoming a Flowerbed or from the Rampant purposefully putting a thorn through its brain. whether fae or demon, Rampants take. they do not possess. they do not imprison.

Angelique currently lives in a small dying village, spending his time checking in on the aging population as a kind of town housemaid/caretaker and tending to his flower shop/apothecary. most people would say that having a creature like him around isn't a great idea, but this eldritch horror has basically been adopted by every lonely old person in town so good luck getting rid of him.

Fun Facts:

he loves nice soft clothes, meat (blood sausage is his favorite), and (in spite of his goth everything all the time) sunlight.

buzzing sounds make him flustered while prolonged exposure to cut grass smells and cold weather make him anxious.

he's an scary good climber and will forgo a door if he knows someone is on a higher floor of a building and he sees an open window.

always well hydrated. carries around a flask of water at all times and likes to sit outside naked when it rains.

he has many little leafy assistants which are also just him. he's like an octopus. the people in the community assign them all little names and give them unique decorations and he thinks it's really cute.

what is he getting out of staying in this village? none of your business.

he's currently in a weird situationship with 2 local gravekeepers from rival graveyards/religions and the recently widowed agnostic town doctor. everyone in this polycule hates everyone else but him. he's also friends with benefits with my character Brooke, who finds all of this hilarious and is eager to hear about the latest disaster every time he passes through town.

[foldingfittedsheets]

Before my beloved and I moved in together they were living with roommates in a place that didn't have a bathtub. Now, a reasonable person might conclude from this that baths would be out of the equation in a home with only one standing shower and no tub.

But these people weren't quitters. Naturopathic doctors and acupuncturists they were dedicated to treating their bodies well and one of the ways they liked to do that was hydrotherapy. Most people are familiar with this through things like polar bear plunges. You sit in a hot tub then jump in freezing water.

It's supposedly good for you and they were way into it. But again, no tub. They'd do hydro showers but it just wasn't the same. These people were not quitters, though. (One of them is the boob soap person, so it really isn't a surprise that she goes hard on everything). So they got what looked like two big metal old timey tubs but which were actually animal food troughs and set them up in the garage. They set up a water heater and god knows how they emptied the tub after, I think there was hoses involved? A pump maybe? I honestly can't remember. Anyway! Voila, hydrotherapy on demand.

I was not aware of this. So when I came over after a long day and my beloved said we should take a bath I was extremely puzzled. I only knew about the one shower. They showed me the garage tubs. I did want a bath and I wasn't really sure about the setup, but honestly I'll try anything once if only for the story, so I agreed.

Fun fact about me though. I haaaate being cold. I've been 0% body fat most of my life with skin barely keeping my bones enclosed. I'm always cold. My favorite activity at the time was sitting directly in front of space heaters. My shower temperatures turn me lobster red and make my beloved cringe. Willingly dunking myself into cold water is the antipathy of my entire deal.

On the night in question I happily submerged into the warm tank, pleasantly surprised by the big silly improvised tub. Which again was meant for livestock. My knees bumped companionably against my beloved as we soaked in the hot water. After a while they rose to go into the cold water. "You don't have to," they told me.

But I was haunted. I wouldn't be doing hydro if I just stayed in the warm tub. Maybe hydro was amazing. It has all these health benefits. I desperately didn't want to but I stood up with them. We were having this nice intimate evening in the garage, just us, I felt safe. I was gonna do it.

They stepped easily into the cold tub, dunking matter of factly into the frigid water. I went to step. I did. I really really tried. My foot went in and I started shrieking, my progress arrested by the total state of shock I entered when my warm toasty foot hit that smug arctic water tension. My beloved started laughing as my pitch ascended the deeper my foot went into the cold water.

I started loudly narrating my discomfort as my foot touched the bottom and I willed my other foot up to join it. "THIS IS VERY COLD," I yelled, "IT'S SO COLD I THINK I MIGHT DIE HOW ARE YOU JUST CASUALLY SITTING IN THIS FREEZING COLD WATER?! I'M DYING- I THINK I'M DYING! I'M DYING BUT WE'RE HERE, TOGETHER! I CAN DO THIS! I CAN DO THESE EVEN THOUGH IT'S SO COLD ALL MY MOLECULES HAVE COMPRESSED INTO A SOLID STATE!"

I ended up with both feet planted in the cold tub, water up to my shins, bellowing and panting while my beloved laughed so hard they couldn't breathe. I hunkered over the cold water, squatting like a frozen gargoyle.

My beloved was trying to psyche me up while I willed my body to obey me. In a sudden jerky drop like a puppet whose strings have been cut I plummeted my body into the cold and let out a shriek that I’m sure could have shattered glass and then leapt up out of the water at a speed relative to a rocket achieving space flight. I didn’t like it.

When we got back inside my beloved's roommates were collapsed on the ground with tears in the their eyes from how hard they'd been laughing. They and probably every neighbor down the block had heard my pterodactyl screeching and narration because the garage was not remotely soundproof.

[reasonsforhope]

"As solar panels heat up beyond 25°C, their efficiency decreases markedly. Green roofs moderate rooftop temperatures. So we wanted to find out: could green roofs help with the problem of heat reducing the output of solar panels?

Our research compared a “biosolar” green roof — one that combines a solar system with a green roof — and a comparable conventional roof with an equivalent solar system. We measured the impacts on biodiversity and solar output, as well as how the plants coped with having panels installed above them.

The green roof supported much more biodiversity, as one might expect. By reducing average maximum temperatures by about 8°C, it increased solar generation by as much as 107% during peak periods. And while some plant species outperformed others, the vegetation flourished.

These results show we don’t have to choose between a green roof or a solar roof: we can combine the two and reap double the rewards...

How did the panels affect the plants?

In the open areas, we observed minimal changes in the vegetation cover over the study period compared to the initial planted community.

Plant growth was fastest and healthiest in the areas immediately around the solar panels. Several species doubled in coverage. We selected fast-growing vegetation for this section to achieve full coverage of the green roof beds as soon as possible.

The vegetation changed the most in the areas directly below and surrounding the solar panels. The Baby Sun Rose, Aptenia cordifolia, emerged as the dominant plant. It occupied most of the space beneath and surrounding the solar panels, despite having been planted in relatively low densities.

This was surprising: it was not expected the plants would prefer the shaded areas under the panels to the open areas. This shows that shading by solar panels will not prevent the growth of full and healthy roof gardens.

What were the biodiversity impacts?

We used environmental DNA (eDNA) surveys to compare biodiversity on the green roof and conventional roof. Water run-off samples were collected from both roofs and processed on site using portable citizen scientist eDNA sampling equipment to detect traces of DNA shed by the species on the roof.

The eDNA surveys detected a diverse range of species. These included some species (such as algae and fungi) that are not easily detected using other survey methods. The results confirmed the presence of bird species recorded by the cameras but also showed other visiting bird species went undetected by the cameras.

Overall, the green roof supported four times as many species of birds, over seven times as many arthropods such as insects, spiders and millipedes, and twice as many snail and slug species as the conventional roof. There was many times the diversity of microorganisms such as algae and fungi.

Encouragingly, the green roof attracted species unexpected in the city. They included blue-banded bees (Amegilla cingulata) and metallic shield bugs (Scutiphora pedicellata).

How did the green roof alter temperatures?

The green roof reduced surface temperatures by up to 9.63°C for the solar panels and 6.93°C for the roof surfaces. An 8°C reduction in average peak temperature on the green roof would result in substantial heating and cooling energy savings inside the building.

This lowering of temperatures increased the maximum output of the solar panels by 21-107%, depending on the month. Performance modelling indicates an extensive green roof in central Sydney can, on average, produce 4.5% more electricity at any given light level.

These results show we don’t have to choose between a green roof or a solar roof. We can combine them to take advantage of the many benefits of biosolar green roofs.

Biosolar roofs can help get cities to net zero

The next step is to design green roofs and their plantings specifically to enhance biodiversity. Green roofs and other green infrastructure may alter urban wildlife’s activities and could eventually attract non-urban species.

Our green roof also decreased stormwater runoff, removed a range of run-off pollutants and insulated the building from extremes of temperature. A relatively inexpensive system provides all of these services with moderate maintenance and, best of all, zero energy inputs.

Clearly, biosolar green roofs could make major contributions to net-zero cities. And all that’s needed is space that currently has no other use."

-via GoodGoodGood, May 12, 2024

[brokenmenswhore]

potions | regulus black

pairing: regulus black x fem!reader

summary: regulus invites his potions partner over to his family home to “help her practice”

warnings: DUBCON (MDNI 18+), choking, smut, rough sex

────── ☾ ──────

When Regulus invited you into his home to use his in-house potions lab, you were suspicious. Regulus always had a darkness to him, and as your potions partner, he was never cruel to you, but he wasn’t the type to make such a kind gesture.

You accepted, knowing you could really use the extra practice. Regulus was talented at potions, and you felt bad that you were barely any help in class. As strange as it may be, you figured some extra time would benefit you, and Regulus could teach you and thing or two, if he felt kind enough to do so.

“Come on in,” he said, gesturing you through the door.

You smiled as you followed him through the house, the lighting almost as dark as his all-black outfit.

“I keep my potions stuff in here,” he said, pushing open the door to his bedroom.

“In your bedroom?”

“Mhm,” he responded, completely nonchalant about the fact you were in his personal space, while you felt it was a little strange. You didn’t know him too well, though you were attracted to him, and now you were only a few feet away from his bed.

He walked over to the table. “You coming?”

You swallowed and approached him, looking at the large collection of jars and ingredients spread out on the table.

“Should we maybe let your parents know I’m here? That there’s someone else in the house?”

Regulus chuckled. “The only other person here is my brother.”

“Sirius is here?”

Regulus shot you a look. You and Sirius had a weird past- you hooked up a few times at parties, you caught feelings and he didn’t, and you never spoke again. It was all ancient history, but you still tried to avoid being around him at all costs.

“Why does it matter?” Regulus asked.

“It doesn’t,” you spoke in a small voice, drifting your attention to the table, “so? What first?”

“Figured we could maybe just make sure you’re set on ingredients,” Regulus said. Everything he said was so dry, low, and monotone, and it sometimes made conversation hard.

“I think I’m comfortable with the ingredients side of things,” you told him.

“You’re not.”

You furrowed your brow and looked at him. “Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes I am!” you fought, “I know my own skill levels, Regulus.”

“I don’t think you do.”

He was so nonchalant about everything, reorganizing ingredients and setting up potion recipes as he spoke, as if anything he said didn’t matter.

You sighed and gave up fighting it, letting him take control and decide where to go from here. There was no point in going back and forth on the same thing over and over again.

“How about we just start with Shrinking Solution?” Regulus asked.

“Fine by me,” you answered.

Regulus backed away from the table, watching you do nothing. You looked back at him. Did he expect you to just do it?

“Well?” he said, “make the potion.”

You sighed. Sometimes he was so annoying and condescending. You looked at the unlabeled recipe and removed 7 red rose petals from a case of singular petals.

You began to drop them one-by-one in the boiling water. You looked at Regulus, who nodded at you to keep going. “How difficult,” you said sarcastically.

Remus folded his arms in front of his chest, watching you carefully.

You added five drops of essence of violet, stirring counterclockwise exactly twelve times.

“I don’t remember shrinking solution having essence of violet,” you told Regulus.

“Are you claiming my recipes are wrong?”

“No, I’m just saying.” You sighed and continued with the recipe, counting out 4 cloves and prepping canary flight feathers.

He didn’t say a word, just watching you make the potion, until you had completed the instructions.

“I also don’t remember it being pink,” you pouted, looking confused at the pot.

“I could have sworn this potion had daisy roots somewhere-“

“Would you relax?” Regulus questioned.

“Something just feels off about it,” you said, inspecting the liquid.

“Does it smell right?” he asked.

You leaned in and sniffed. The potion smelt like lavender, vanilla, freshly cut grass, and all your favorite smells.

The smell maintained throughout the smoke that you breathed in, overtaking your senses and filling your lungs. “Fuck that smells good,” you giggled.

Regulus crept behind you as silently as he could. When you stood up, he was directly behind you, your back almost banging into his torso.

You spun around to meet his gaze. “Can I help you with something?” you asked.

“I don’t know, can you?”

Your eyes locked for a moment, and you were suddenly overtaken with adoration.

“I think I probably can,” you said, all logic going out the window as the potion took over your emotions, your focus completely on Regulus.

“Atta girl,” he tsked, gripping your waist as he looked down at you. “How you feelin’, pretty girl?”

You were overcome with intense emotion, but you fought to remain grounded in reality. “You motherfucker,” you said, letting Regulus know that you were aware he had you make the wrong potion. This was not Shrinking Solution, this was Amortentia.

“No idea what you’re referring to,” he said.

“You know,” you started, twirling his already wavy hair in your fingers, “you could have just asked if you wanted me.”

“Now could I?” he asked, intrigued and eager to hear you continue talking.

“Mhm.”

“I thought I wasn’t your type.”

“Why?”

“You slept with my brother, did you not?”

Your eyes widened a bit. “And you know that how?”

“He’s my brother,” he said, holding you closer to him, his tone finally lifting to a bit lighter of a place, “and I’ve been keeping tabs on you.”

You giggled. “Have not.”

“I have been,” he admitted, “had to make sure you weren’t fucking anyone who didn’t deserve you.”

“I haven’t been fucking anyone,” you told him honestly.

“I know.”

“You wanna know why?”

His gaze darkened.

You sighed, “the only person I’ve wanted to fuck is standing right in front of me.”

Regulus growled, gripping your waist even harder and pulling you even closer. “Then what did I do all this work for? Getting you over here, the Amortentia, you’re telling me I worked for it for nothing?”

“Maybe,” you giggled, amused at how much thought and planning went into getting you here. You weren’t obvious about your attraction to him, but it couldn’t be that hard to notice.

“I feel drunk on you,” you admitted.

Regulus smiled. You had never ever seen him smile before. You didn’t even know he was capable.

“You’re so pretty when you smile,” you said genuinely, a hand moving upward so you could run a thumb over his cheek.

He couldn’t help himself anymore, he crashed his lips onto yours. Your hand found it’s way to the back of his head, holding him closer. You whimpered into the kiss, desperation overtaking your body. You couldn’t help it, the scent of the potion was still filling the room, and you were consumed in Regulus.

“I want you,” you said in between kisses, eager to finally get what you wanted.

Regulus didn’t break the kiss or loosen his grip on your waist, but instead inched you closer and closer to the bed. You felt the back of your knees hit the mattress, and you jumped up, attempting to land on the mattress, but Regulus caught you, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

He leaned over you, your back touching the mattress as you kept your legs around Regulus. He remained standing, the small of your back at the edge of the side of the bed.

Regulus finally broke the kiss, running his hands all over your body and inspecting every single inch of you. “I’m gonna make you scream so loud that Sirius will realize what he’s missing.”

You couldn’t help it, you started laughing. Your heightened emotions won, and the more you tried to stay quiet, the more hysterical your laugh became.

Regulus slapped your thigh. “What the fuck is so funny?”

“You.”

“Shut up,” Regulus demanded, kissing you to distract you from the hysterics in your brain. You melted back into him, forgetting why you were even laughing in the first place.

You were still having too much fun to let him win so easy, and you liked watching him work for it. “Make me.”

Regulus cocked his head to the side. “What did you just say?”

A giggle threatened to leave your lips. “I said make me.”

A hand suddenly squeezed around your throat, not completely cutting off your breath, but stopping your giggling.

Regulus flashed you a wicked smile. “That seemed to work, didn’t it?”

“Y-yes,” you squeaked out.

Regulus moved a hand in between your bodies, cupping your heat from on top of your underwear. You inhaled sharply, desperate for any sort of friction.

Regulus tucked his fingers into the band of your underwear, collecting your wetness with his middle finger as he traced it in between your folds. A sigh of pleasure escapes your lips, and Regulus watched your face intently.

You thought he was going to continue on like this, slowly working you up until you were ready for him, but Regulus had other ideas. Without warning, he shoved two long fingers inside of you, his palm resting on your clit and circling, as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

Your body responded, back arching off the bed, a hand still around your throat. You squirmed a bit, unable to stay still from the sensation.

Regulus watched your chest rise and fall as your back arched and fell, his cock hardening as he watched what he did to you.

He curled his fingers, hitting that gummy sweet spot within you, causing your walls to convulse around his fingers. “That’s it, pretty girl,” he cooed, “come for me.”

His words undid you, the coil of tension within you breaking as you came on his fingers, whines and whimpers constantly filling the room as you calmed down from your high. He pulled his fingers out of you, never breaking eye contact as he sucked your juices off of them.

Once his fingers were licked clean, he unwrapped your legs from his waist, removing his hand from your throat.

“Stay,” he commanded as he untied his pants, pushing them, along with his underwear, down enough to free his hard and swollen cock.

You let out an audible gasp at the size.

“What? Too much for you?”

“How-“ you didn’t even know what to say, “how is that gonna fit in me?”

“I think you’ll be fine, pretty girl.”

Regulus held his palm in front of your mouth. “Spit.”

You did as he said, and he used your spit to wet his cock, lining up his tip with your entrance.

“You want this?” he asked.

“Yes, Reg,” you replied.

Regulus almost showed you mercy when he heard the nickname, it just sounded so pretty coming from you, but he still didn’t. “Beg for it.”

You nodded your head no in protest.

A hand grabbed your face, pushing your lips out and positioning your head so that you had no choice but to look him in the eye. “Beg. For. It.”

“P-please, Regulus I n-“

Regulus slapped your cheek, hard. You gasped at the pain, almost stunned that he did such a thing.

“Use that pretty little nickname you called me.”

“Please, Reg, I need it, p-please-“

Regulus shoved his length into you, a moan of his name leaving your lips.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Regulus growled, setting a steady pace as he pumped in and out of you. He tugged at the bottom of your dress. “Off.”

You did your best to pull your dress off without interrupting his pace, struggling for a minute but eventually succeeding. Regulus leaned in and bit at your bra strap, snapping it back onto your body. He kisses the top of your breasts, shoving your nipples out of the cups, his tongue immediately sucking on one of them.

“Fuck!” you cried out, the pleasure of his mouth on your breasts and his cock splitting you open, and the scent of the potion still filled your nose, almost feeling like too much.

“Louder,” he demanded, serious when he said he would make you scream so loud that Sirius could hear you.

“Fuck, Reg!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, his pace quickening as you did so.

“Good girl,” he praised.

He sucked a sweet spot on your neck, your head rolling to the side to give him even more access.

He was slamming into you, the bed squeaking as your body rocked back and forth. Your legs were weak as they fell off the side of the bed, but Regulus didn’t want the position to change. He grabbed both of your legs, positioning them over his shoulders and fucking into you even deeper.

You squeaked and whined, not even capable of any genuine moans anymore.

“You gonna come again, huh? All over my cock?” Regulus gasped out.

“Mhm.”

“Words, pretty girl.”

“Y- yes!” you squealed, your high hitting you again as you squeezed his cock, a groan leaving Regulus’s mouth as he fucked you while you came, pace never faltering as you attempted to come down from your high.

Regulus was still chasing his own, his lips enveloping yours in a heated kiss as he snapped his hips as fast as he could until he came inside of you, erratic breaths and sighs spilling into the kiss.

“Fuck,” he said, running his fingers through his hair that was sweat slicked and falling in front of his face.

“God, I needed that,” you said, attempting to catch your breath as Regulus laid down next to you.

Regulus didn’t respond, he just stared at the ceiling, calming himself down.

“Reg?” you asked.

“Mhm?”

“You didn’t bring me here just to fuck me and piss your brother off, right?” you asked.

Regulus turned to you. “Do you think that low of me?”

“No. I’m just curious,” you explained.

“No, I didn’t bring you here to piss my brother off,” he answered, “it’s just a massive, massive plus.” He rolled over the placed a kiss on your lips.

[h2ocapsule]

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[starkeyisthelastname]

Rafe w plus-sized/chubby reader, pretty pleeeease??

“Them stretch marks im nuttin all over.”

You read the text message over and over again. Your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you sat down on the edge of your bed. The way the heat was rushing to your core in such a fast manner, had you concerned. No man had ever made you feel this way especially a man this gorgeous. His name was Rafe and you had met him on Tinder of all places.

You had been in so many failed relationships that you were done trying, but of course there was only so long you could go with just using your rose toy. And while that little thing was amazing, you did miss the feeling of sex. Signing up for Tinder, you promised yourself that you were not looking for a relationship and merely only wanted to see if you could find a potential friends with benefits. You had never had one, always falling into these too quickly.

You weren’t exactly confident, your weight always getting in the way. Something you had struggled with as long as you could remember. You had a tummy, rolls, stretch marks, your face always being too round. You hated the fact men turned you away when asking for a picture of your body.

Rafe was muscular with light tan skin and gorgeous blue eyes. His profile read that he was 6’2, he worked at his dad’s business and he was looking for something causal. You thought you had nothing to lose and swiped right on his profile, not thinking anything of it. You were sure he wouldn’t give you the time of day.

You had just gotten out of the shower when you saw the notification.

You matched with Rafe!

Rafe sent you a message

Matched? You were in shock as you opened up the message hoping it wouldn’t scare him off that you were messaging him back so quickly. The two of you started off casual, making small conversation to learn a little about one another even exchanging numbers. It then led to being flirtatious, him causing your pussy to feel butterflies. He asked what you liked in bed, your turn ons, what made you feel good. When he asked for a picture of your body, you immediately got anxious. Normally you’d block the guy no matter how hot they were.

Sending him a full body picture of you and explaining that you had stretch marks, and cellulite and weren’t skinny by any means. You sat on the edge of your bed nervously. It took him a minute to reply, making you wonder if he got grossed out. But as soon as that text message came in, your eyes widened. Reading it over and over, you didn’t know how to reply.

Your phone dinged again, this time with an address. Was this really going to happen? As nervous as you were, you found yourself typing back a response.

“You want me to come over?” You bit your lip, waiting for a response. The typing bubbles appeared, only to disappear a few seconds after. Your phone buzzed in your hand, a video now having been sent from his end. You took a deep breath, clicking the play button where it turned to full screen. Your eyes widened as the camera focused on his grey sweatpants, the clear outline of a huge dick now in the frame. You instantly felt the ache run straight to your core, wanting to see more of it.

“What do you think? Let me put this in you, pretty girl.” The message below the video said.

You rang the doorbell, nervously rocking on your heels as you waited. This wasn't the best idea you had ever had. He could be a crazy person for all you knew. The house was rather dark and you didn't see much movement. You pulled out your phone to start to text him when you heard the sound of a door being opened.

You looked up to see him standing there. He was tall, his profile height being right. His eyes were the bluest shade you had ever seen, staring at you with the sexiest smirk. He was shirtless, toned abs making your mouth water as you couldn't help but glance at him.

“Hi.” You squeaked nervously.

“Hey.” His voice deep, making you want to cum right then and there. You swallowed the lump in your throat, stepping in the house as he opened the door wider. You looked around, the house neat with neutral colors. He cleared his throat, walking past you towards the living room. “Let me turn this off real quick and we will go upstairs.” He said, grabbing the remote and turning the tv off.

He led you up the stairs and down the hall to what you presumed to be his bedroom. It was surprisingly clean, and smelled of cedar and his cologne. He shut the door, walking past you to sit on the edge of the bed. You sat your purse down on the end of the dresser, hands folding in front of you in nerves.

“Come here.” He rasped out, eyes raking over you as you stepped closer to him. He roughly grabbed your hips to pull you between his legs, hand running down to grip your ass. “Don’t be shy with me. Alright? You’re fucking beautiful.” He said.

You had never felt or seen a dick so big. Your head hung down, flushed cheek pressed into the mattress as Rafe pounded you from behind. This position was almost too much for you, making you grab the sheets to almost pull away.

“Where you going, huh? Don’t start fucking runnin from me.” His voice about the sexiest thing you had ever heard. You felt his large hand come to your head, yanking your hair back in a tight fist. You let out a loud moan, eyes rolling back as he forced you to look up at him.

“Open your fucking mouth.” Rafe spat, gripping your jaw to force apart. You did exactly as you were told, not having much of a choice as he spit directly onto your tongue. You felt completely degraded, exactly one of your kinks you told him you had. He was not playing around with you, and the chokehold this man had you on was crazy.

He chuckled, leaning down to capture your tongue with his in a messy kiss, your poor cunt being drilled by his massive length at a constant pace. You whined against his mouth, pussy clenching around his cock as you already began to squirt against him and the sheets below.

“Shit.. you like ruining my sheets and shit?” His voice hoarse, reaching down to slap your thick ass cheek roughly.

All you could do was nod, head pounding from the still tight grip on your hair. You had completely came undone in just a short amount of time. The insecurities you had felt before had disappeared for the time being, Rafe worshipping your curves by fucking you exactly how you had wanted.

[takes1]

p.2 bratty tsukishima x manager!reader enemies to lovers

warnings. nsfw. m!masturbation at the end. midterms mentioned. minors DNI content. misinterpretation of emotions. tsukki not knowing how to handle a crush. enemies to lovers. or maybe enemies with benefits, i haven't decided yet. manager!reader. tsukki being so incredibly horny. tsukki not understanding facial expressions. sexual frustration. male masturbation + implied previous. kiyoko being a friend. yachi being a friend. 1.7k words notes. 3 more parts planned! ask to be added to the taglist if you don't want to miss one! links. PART ONE HERE. PART THREE . PART FOUR. FINAL PART. masterlist for mha. my ao3. masterlist for haikyuu

Despite your iced latte being mostly just water by now, you still sucked it down in desperation to get every ounce of caffeine you could. Midterms were just around the corner and one of your most difficult classes involved writing a 10-page scientific paper.

You had the whole semester to do it, so the dread you felt now was the amalgamation of months' worth of opportunity that you could've and should've used to work on it.

Thankfully, you didn't have to churn the majority of this thing out alone.

"What the hell does ameliorate mean." Kiyoko asked, though her soft frustration was starting to sound more like a statement now.

Yachi took every opportunity she could to stop doing her work, including this one. For her, there was less pressure to do perfectly on her finals since she had another two years to get those top marks.

She scanned her laptop screen for a moment, lips perched on the lid of her strawberry refresher: "Ameliorate means... To... make something bad or unsatisfactory better."

Kiyoko muttered something about how it still didn't make sense. Of course it wouldn't- she was taking an organic chemistry course.

The plan as it stood now was to rot in this spot all day until hunger moved you, so you all made an event out of it by putting on something cute, grabbing some coffees and pastries from a cafe nearby, and settling into this local library.

It wasn't planned, but you all simultaneously chose to wear skirts and cute summer tops. The mutual reaction of humor helped ease the pain of having to study all day. Suffering together was preferable to suffering alone.

The chance finally came again to stretch your legs and find another vaguely relevant reference to add to your bibliography.

With a rewarding, careful stretch, you rose out of your chair and took your time walking up and down the aisles to find something to support the fifth theory you'd written about so far.

Midterms were one stressor, but you weren't afforded the privilege of having tunnel vision over it.

Qualifiers were just around the corner, and you had the Tokyo training camp to prepare a load of equipment and personnel logs for.

As you selected a thick novel from a shelf above your head, you let out a small sigh.

The front matter described a concept you could start to look into and fluff up to your liking for the paper. Your mind fell back to the team, and how you wanted to do well on these exams so you'd have less to worry about going to Tokyo.

The side of your face was growing warm, probably from the East-facing window to your left, so you raised the back of a cold hand to cool yourself down.

You were just deciding to take this book back when, in the process of dropping your hand, you caught a blur of blond hair and glasses in the corner of your eye.

Your stomach jolted, heart starting to race, and an uncontrollable surprise took over your features.

Tsukishima was sitting, leaned over a table on his elbows, his head twisted all the way to the side to look at you over his shoulder.

You quickly looked back to the shelf and sucked in a breath. God, that must've looked so lame- you regretted every millisecond of that reaction and prayed he wouldn't ever bring it up.

He hated you. You didn't want anything to do with him. There was no pleasant exchange to get out of saying hello, or even acknowledging each other. It's not like you were friends.

Why was he even here? You started to get worried, but realized that he did ride the same train back with you after practice in the evenings.

Now you were really remembering. He got off one stop before yours and always moved to create the most space possible between you. You usually didn't see him again until he got off. Even then, you didn't care enough to look for him anymore.

You glanced back to him, expecting to now have to speak to him after you'd exchanged a mutual acknowledgment of each other's presence.

He was staring. But... that wasn't exactly the right word for it.

He was distracted. You wondered if he knew who you were, because you'd never seen him stare at you for more than a few seconds.

His brow wasn't pinched like usual. It was relaxed- in fact, everything about him was relaxed. The way his head was held in his hand, the loose grasp on his pencil, the subtle part of his lips. The lazy, yet measured scan of his eyes.

There was a reddish tint at the tips of his ears and highest points of his cheeks. It was astoundingly easy to notice, since he was so fair-skinned.

A strong chill ran up your spine when he finally made eye contact with you. Even then, it took a glance down to the book clasped against your chest, then back up for him to really notice your gaze and stiffen right up.

That new side of him vanished in an instant. It was replaced with a brief, stone-cold glower before he turned back to his own midterm work.

On the stiff walk back to your table, you smoothed your skirt out and pulled on the edge a bit before sitting back down.

It took a minute of silent sitting to even begin to unpack what you felt.

"Do I look stupid?"

Yachi instantly piped up, "Of course not! You're very pretty!"

"You really shouldn't waste your breath asking," Kiyoko glanced up at you.

It was brief but it rested your immediate insecurities.

"Why?" Yachi, once again, wanted nothing more than to just hang out and talk.

Another surge of chills. It was sickening.

You put your head in your hands, elbows on the table. "Mm-mm, it's just-..." You thought to tell them, but held back at the last second, "I dunno."

Another big sigh and you were back to typing to take your mind off of it. You'd have plenty of time to see what this spun into once you were free from this academic prison. It was too confusing right now.

Kiyoko didn't read into it, but Yachi lingered until 1) it was obvious you simply didn't want to disclose and 2) an abnormally tall boy from school walked past your table. She watched him watch you on his way towards the exit.

Her eyes narrowed with keen intuition.

the keen intuition in question:

Kei felt himself practically melt against the closed door of his bedroom. Breathless from a difficult and quick walk home, he fumbled with the tie of his sweatpants and the lock on the door concurrently.

"Finally," He sighed with a desperate laugh, "Fuck..."

His bag hit the floor with a sharp and careless thump. He stepped over it and fell onto his back on his mattress, a long arm stretched toward his side table for some lotion.

It was useless trying to study after that. Library or home, it didn't matter unless he could fuck this one out.

This time he didn't have to stalk your Instagram to spark his imagination; it was already running rampant with filthy ideas of what he'd do to you in that short skirt.

An ignored, aching erection sprang out of his waistband as he pushed it down and out of the way.

Light grey sweatpants had (for the first time in his life) ended up being a shit idea. All he could worry about on the 20 minute walk back was if anyone could see the tip of his cock tucked up just under his shirt.

Every shirt was too short. Every pair of pants was too big in the middle.

His slippery hand was beautiful relief. He was quick to get himself lubricated, and quicker to pump in slow, twisting motions to the image of you reaching, reaching, reaching up to that book on your tippy toes.

All the worry in his tight brow washed away in crashing waves of steady-growing pleasure.

Soon he didn't care about the harrowing journey home, the threat of midterms, nor the growing dread of that training camp.

It was just you.

It felt like fate that he got the only chance anyone might ever have to see the curve of your ass just under the hem of your skirt. You were able to get that book all too quickly.

If everything were different, he would've gotten it for you. You would've thanked him, kissed him on the cheek- he would've pulled you in for a heated, raunchy kiss with a hand palming you closer. He would've savored the view of you spread on the table for him -homework long forgotten- and his massive hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. It was a library, after all.

He seethed and stalled for a moment--, "a-ahh- Mm..."

His cock twitched hard with the need to cum, but he stopped just soon enough.

An oversized hand was holding the base; he looked at his other dry one, then closed his eyes in an eager but fruitless attempt to visualize just how they'd look on your thighs. Fuck, anywhere at this point.

Just one touch, that's all he wanted. He never let himself get close enough to even consider it, but my god, the internal struggle he made to stay away was commendable.

His tight, lightly sweaty stomach flexed with effort as he slowed down again.

You were so quick to switch up when it came to him. He could tell he had a special place in your heart, the way your lips pursed into a small frown and your eyes narrowed when he tested you.

It was out-of-this-world cute from his vantage point. A smile might just kill him.

"Mmm, fu-ck," He croaked, mind circling back to today.

His chest swelled with a shaky inhale- he smirked at the thought of you finding out about his terrible secret, how you would punish him for his unprofessional behavior. You were so pretty when you got mad.

The breath caught in his throat. He wasn't even thinking about the skirt when he finally came all over his stomach. Just that pretty face of yours did it for him.

taglist:

@hotvinimon @cyzvx @aloveablechaos @kozumesphone

thanks for the support!!

reply to be added!

[juletheghoul]

distraction

a/n: I'm as shocked as you probably are with posting a full chapter today, along with a pretty extensive ask on Friday but here we are. I don't know why this character has inspired such devotion and creativity in me but I am not going to question it. This might be the most toxic chapter yet lol and If you aren't into it. no hard feelings! This is un beta-ed, any mistakes are my own. Shout out to @foli-vora for being a light in a pretty rough week, and for listening to all of my rants and tangents. Love you girlie! 🩷Hopefully you enjoy!

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, gladiatorial violence, exhibitionism, Marcus being a possessive, jealous mess, creampie, heavily leaning into the ownership aspect of their 'relationship', master / slave dynamic (power imbalance), Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus, let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2.7k

reblogs are appreciated

Prev chapter Masterlist series masterlist

The sun rose, much like it did on every other day, and you rose with it. 

With a yawn and a stretch you dressed, cursing at the way your tunic tattered at the seams. You’d have to mend it later, you made a mental note to remember as you rushed to start on your chores for the day. 

You found him splashing water from the jug and basin in his room, and moved quickly and quietly to help him dress for the day ahead. Silently he moved throughout the room, letting you adjust his clothes so they looked their best, he let you push his hair into place and to take the basin to be emptied while he made his way to his study. The sun was still high in the sky when the messenger came for him, bringing him the invitation from the Emperor himself to oversee the gladiatorial games in honour of his victory. His brow furrowed at the news, he would be in the pulvinus with the Emperor along with other Romans of proper birth. 

He didn’t take the news well, to him it was a folly. He had absolutely no wish to be celebrated, as far as he was concerned, his march into the city had been more than enough but he could not deny the invitation. So with a clench in his jaw and a number of frustrated sighs, he accepted, and set about making the preparations. 

The day of the games came and as his constant shadow, you followed to see to his needs and to pour for him. It was difficult to keep the excitement in check, every so often you’d glance down to your new tunic, bright white with details of gold to match your Dominus. Despite your many years of service, none of the people you’d served before had ever brought you to the arena, let alone in the presence of the Emperor, or in such a high seat as the pulvinus. Your march through the city towards the Colosseum was filled with cheers and the screams of people clamoring to see the General of the Roman army up close. 

He did his duty, waved and smiled for their benefit despite his great discomfort, and you did your duty as well–kept your head down, and your attention on him. 

The pulvinus was blessedly covered by rich fabrics, shielding the esteemed guests and slaves alike from the unforgiving rays of the sun. With his cup full, and his attention with the Emperor, you used the moment of reprieve to take in the sights. The opening games had come and gone and now the main event was to start. The gladiators filed out and took their place, awaiting the words that would set them on their path of violence. 

They were a mixed batch of fighters, all of them fearsome in their own way. There was a small, stocky one, his face was all anger and his arms were covered in scars. There was one that towered over them all, his arms and legs long enough to keep anyone from getting too close. There were twins, both of them smiling for the crowd, clearly favoured from the cheers they inspired. There was another, and he was the one that drew your eye. His hair was black as coal with eyes to match and although on the leaner side, the strength in his limbs was obvious. His sword hand flexed at the hilt and you watched him twirl the weapon, test its weight before he looked up to the pulvinus, in truth he reminded you of your Dominus; twenty years younger. 

He smiled up in your direction and your stomach twisted, for a moment you imagined your Dominus down in the sand, fighting for the crowd and it thrilled you. You imagined meeting him as a younger man, what he might have been like, what might he think of you?

“Girl.” His voice cut through your musing, his cup outstretched and you stumbled for only a heartbeat, imperceptible to anyone but him. His eyes tracked what had distracted you, and found the young Gladiator smiling still, and said nothing. His mood soured though and at once you chastised yourself for letting the arena distract you.  

Marcus introduced the main games, the Primus, and he did so without flair, without embellishment but it mattered not, the people screamed and the men before you fought for their lives against a myriad of challengers. You kept your eye on your Dominus, on his cup but the young gladiator –Varus– kept drawing your attention, he looked so like your General that you idly wondered if he could be his son, could he have fathered him during his younger years? It was known to happen, did he see the resemblance? Did anyone?

Varus is relentless, and despite making sure your Dominus’ needs are met your eyes track him, enraptured. It is difficult to be sure who it is he smiles at when he glances up in your direction, it is most likely the high-born Roman women. His skill is undeniable, and again your thoughts drift to a younger, wilder Marcus, would your general have given you those smiles so brazenly at that age?

“He does like to put on a show does he not?” One of the high born ladies remarks and you cannot help but watch as Varus laughs, cutting down those who challenge him with ease, even as some of his brothers fall. “Look how he smiles, he is of a form today.” They giggle between themselves as he points his sword in tribute towards them, or you, or the Emperor, it is hard to tell. 

“He definitely draws the eye.” Marcus speaks, agreeing with them, but you hear his displeasure and when you meet his eyes they are already focused on you. Your stomach drops at the look of displeasure on his face, your momentary lapse had not been taken lightly. Heat and embarrassment fill you to the brim and from then on your eyes find themselves downcast. “More wine, girl.” His tone is colder than you’ve ever heard it, enough to set your nerves alight. 

“Yes Dominus.” Your tone, in turn, is demure and humble and you pray to the Gods that you get through the games without embarrassing him further.

Varus and the twins stand victorious, and the crowd loves them for it, enough to shake the ground with their cheers but you keep your head down. With your error, you expected Marcus to excuse himself and make his way home once the games were over but it wasn’t to be. The Emperor had arranged for his guests to exchange words with the victors, and so down into the sand you went, following where your Dominus went on shaky legs. 

Up close, Varus was taller than your General, but not by much. He was strong, and lean, and covered in blood and gore, it did nothing to take away from his allure. It didn’t seem to bother him, if anything, it only made him more appealing. The resemblance was there, not as close as you’d imagined but there was something there, in the profile, in the gaze, he was a handsome man, but no one held a candle to Marcus in your eyes. 

The Emperor bestowed words of congratulations, and they bowed dutifully. Varus smiled, boldly, unbothered by the ire of your Dominus, his eyes wandered and when they found you they raked over your form unabashedly. He drank in the sight of your thighs through the slit in your tunic, in the curve of your neck and although you had no real interest in this man, you couldn’t help but fidget. 

Your Dominus clenched his jaw, but offered his good will all the same, albeit in a curt manner and once the pleasantries were exchanged, you were blessedly away from the arena, and off towards the villa once more. He’s eerily quiet on the trek back home, even for him and although he’s usually quite forgiving despite his gruff exterior, you pray to the Gods that you haven’t offended him past the point of return. His horse whinnies underneath him while you and his personal guard follow behind, and all at once he is off his horse and handing off the reins. 

“Come girl, I have business here.” He barely looks at you, but you rush to follow where he leads, down a quiet street away from the chaos of the day. You have to take two steps for every one of his in order to stay close. You take it as a good sign, that he calls on you to attend to him after the business in the pulvinus, and you steel yourself to serve to the best of your ability in whatever possible way he may need. He winds through different alleys and it takes a moment for you to wonder idly just where exactly he needs to go before you find yourself pressed up against the wall. 

“Have you grown tired of your Dominus?” His hand wrapped around your throat, pressing you up against the wall. Not tight enough to cut off your breath, but tight enough to make you stand on the tips of your toes. His eyes were cold as frost, but there was passion laced through his words as well as rage. 

“No Dominus–”

“Do. Not. Lie.” His grip tightened for only a second, “Do you think me blind, girl? I saw the way you watched Varus.” The gladiator's name was a curse and for a moment you frowned at him, was this jealousy?

“Dominus, I could never, I was merely distracted–” You brought your hands up, trying vainly to soothe him with gentle touch but the anger burned hot within him, and he stepped closer, kicking your legs apart to press his knee between them. 

“Yes, distracted by him, he caught your eye. Do you desire him?” You felt your heart racing, thumping against his palm at your throat, “Tell me girl, have you forgotten that you belong to me? Do you wish to belong to another?”

“No Dominus! Only you, I–I could not help but notice Varus–” His jaw clenched at the sound of the other man's name upon your tongue. “Because, because he resembled you, Dominus.”

His anger faltered for a moment, but the frown remained, and so you continued. 

“He looked so like you Dominus, and I couldn’t help but imagine you at that age, fighting and smiling at me. I do not desire anyone else, I do not wish to belong to anyone else.” You brought your hands up, tentatively placing one upon his at your throat, and the other on his chest. 

“Did that excite you? Do you wish me to be younger?” There was a vulnerability in his eyes then, obscured by anger but shining through all the same and had he been anyone else, you might have laughed at the absurdity of his complex. 

“It only excited me, to imagine you smiling at me, fighting for me Dominus. I do not wish you to be any other way.” Your hands moved in tandem, one stroking at his arm softly, the other sliding down his chest, towards where his passion grew and pressed against your hip. “Look into my eyes and see the truth in my words, I belong to you, mind, body and soul, only you.” His grip loosened, but he didn’t let go.

“Can you not see how much I desire you? How my heart beats only to the tune of your pleasure?” He isn’t unaffected by your words, you see him drink them down like a fine wine, and he sighs heavily at the feel of your palm on his manhood. “Take me, here and now Dominus, my want for you drips onto my thighs.” 

His eyes close and a heavy breath escapes his lips and you see your chance, you see the tiny fracture in his armor. “May I have your mouth Dominus?” You pulled him closer, while guiding his free hand to the Elysian fields between your legs. His fingers slipped under your coverings and found you wet and wanting and all at once his violence is coloured with passion instead of anger. 

“You will never belong to another, do you understand me girl?” Frantically he pulls at your tunic, moving it up, and pulling the neck down to bare your breasts to him, uncaring of the people who happen by. 

“You are mine, all of you, is mine.” His mouth pressed to yours roughly, stealing the breath out of your lungs. Your hands fumbled at his robes, joining in his madness and releasing his cock. He doesn’t let you touch it however, instead he turns you around and pulls your hips out. You hear him spit into his hand before lining himself up at the mouth of your sex, barely giving you a moment before burying himself to the hilt. 

You can’t help but moan and hold onto his arms, the grit of the wall pressed up against your face. His hand wrapped around your throat once more, holding you still while his hips drove forward, filling you over and over without respite, his other hand found your breast and held it tight, fanning the flames of your arousal for him. 

“This cunt—“ his mouth pressed against your ear, breathing harshly with the force of his exertion, “is mine, mine alone.” The moan clawed its way out from your throat, that he would be this affected by a simple glance should have scared you, but it didn’t. It only made your arousal flow like seawater.

Your cunt was the altar of his devotion, and his prayers were violent.

“Yes Dominus, yours alone.” You pushed back, turning your face as best you could to look him in the eye and his expression pulled another sound from your throat. He was enraptured, eyes blown black and mouth slack as his hips drilled, bouncing against the plump flesh of your backside. “I want to look at you Dominus, I want your mouth–” He groaned, pulling out quickly to turn you back around and within a breath he had one of your legs wrapped around his hip, his hand holding it at the knee, and his cock buried deep. His other hand held you firm by the throat. 

“Tell me girl, tell me you’re mine, only mine.” There was a desperation in his voice that pulled at something within you, something tender despite his brusque movements. 

“I’m yours Dominus, I belong to you–” You threaded your fingers into his hair and yanked him close to you, your grip tight and he moaned, unabashedly, “I only ever want to be yours.”

His eyes close before his lips have found yours, and you feel the way his pace stutters, he is close and all at once you need to feel him spill inside, his need to stake his claim burning you up like a fever. You move one hand down to your sex, to the swollen bundle of nerves begging for attention, and with the other, you hold his hand to your throat. 

“Please Dominus, please fill me with your gift.” You moan the words out, and smile at the way he grinds himself deep with a low groan. The coil in your belly snaps as you feel him spill inside, and your flutters make him hiss, his mouth surging forward to claim yours hard enough to hurt but it matters not. Your heart and cunt are full with him just as it should be. 

His breath comes in pants as he removes his hand from your neck, and your breath hitches when he brushes his lips against your skin in silent apology. You know the moment will pass, and that soon, his mood will change and this interlude will end, as all interludes must but you seize the moment anyway, and pull his face up to meet his eyes. 

“I speak truth Dominus, my heart fills with joy to be yours.” Softly, you wrap your arms around his neck and bring him close, for a moment you are worried that as his blood cools, so does his passion for you but he proves you wrong, and lets you kiss him. More than that, he keeps kissing you as he set your robes to right with gentle hands before pulling out with a hiss. He does not respond, there is no need to, his eyes speak for him. 

Within a few heartbeats, the look is gone and his usual mask is back in place. 

“Come girl, let us away.”

“Yes Dominus.” 

—

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[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Please Please Please - Rafe Cameron Short Story (Part

2 of 6)

+18 Minor DNI

Older MobDealer!Rafe x Female Reader

⭐ republished ⭐

+18 Minor DNI

Part 1

3333 words

Warnings contain spoilers: blood, domestic assault, cheating, swearing, name-calling, gaslighting, threats, and mentions of killing partner, kissing, mentions of female masturbation, ownership (you’re mine), general violence.

📖 Loosely based on the song and music video Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter 💕

✨Rafe clears his throat, changing slightly in his seat, the smoothness of his approach shifting as you adjust your glasses. He looks at you, trying his best to control his anger and questioning for your benefit, but he just can’t. “Did uh… Did you have those last night?” He asks weakly, well aware of the answer. His eyes narrow in concern, his softness quickly stripped. Your jaw tightens, lashes fluttering to hold back the tears that hadn’t disappeared. You shake your head ‘no’.✨

Sexual content in pink if you want to avoid that

Readers POV:

“Tony-”

Lights out.

That’s all I remember. The first blow of his fist to my cheek was enough to knock me out cold.

Your eyes flutter open, a burning ache claiming you immediately as you match your stare in the rearview mirror. Pain radiates from your nose. Your lip a mess with two rivers of thick blood lined to your chin. The car is empty, Tony nowhere to be found, leaving you alone in his dark garage.

Reaching over, you grab the door handle, crying out in pain, pulling your hand to your ribs. You slam your eyes shut, fear setting in as you get a taste of just how evil Tony can be. Lucky for you, he had the decency to knock you out before delivering the rest of his beating, sparing you the initial pain. I could leave. I could leave tonight, steal his car, and drive away.

But then, how will I meet him?

You shut your eyes, replaying the moment you locked eyes with him. Blue… Beautifully blue - thatcerulean stare captured yours, and for a few moments, you felt free. What was he booked for? Why was he sent to jail in the first place?

Your heart races, teeth gritted as you step out of the car, trying to push through the pain. You walk down a long line of vintage and luxury cars; the Maybach was nothing… This asshole has cars to spare.

An open spot… Vlad. Is Tony gone? You look out a small window on the garage door, the sunrise, a wash of pink and oranges, bleeds through the sky. I was in jail for 8 hours before he got me… He always takes an early flight. Hopefully, he left already. You step carefully, trying your best not to make a sound. Tony fights dirty; there’s no way you could let your guard down until you know for sure. He could be waiting for me inside.

Your heels click against the marble floor, head on a swivel as you watch for him. It’s eerie… The kitchen was a mess when you left, dirtied from your anniversary dinner, now spotless. The empty wine bottle on the counter is exchanged for a large vase of lilies and red roses.

There’s no way these are for me.

Tears roll down your cheeks, burning as they catch the gash in your cheek, making you hiss in pain, the movement reopening the wounds on your lip, pooling fresh blood in your mouth. Your scream fills the house, a piercing cry resonating through the wings. It’s not enough. You grab the vase, sobbing as you hurl it to the floor, watching the glass shatter into a million pieces.

Water and roses spread along the marble floor as you walk away, crushing the glass under your Louis Vuitton heels. You step toward the bedroom, kicking off your shoes, tearing down the zipper, letting the satin material fall to the floor. Maybe it was cheating, perhaps it was the beating, or was it the gaslighting bullshit? Whatever the hell it was, you were seconds away from saying fuck it entirely.

Water falls from the shower head, sending steam swirling all around. The gasps and hiccups of your tears get swallowed up in the noise of the shower as you draw back the glass, stepping inside. You let out a pathetic whimper as the water pelts your skin, every nerve on fire, hot water running through your wounds. It flows down your body, circling the drain in a watercolor mess of crimson, turning pink, then clear as the blood starts to wash away. The pain dissipates, numbness taking its place.

Maybe I want to be alone. Why am I even thinking about anyone else? What if he doesn’t want me? What if he has someone else? What if he’s treating them just like Tony treats me? You grab the handle, turning off the water. Chills spread across your body as you climb out of the tub, stepping onto the cool floor before returning to the bedroom.

Your stomach sinks as you hear your phone trill. Tony… I don’t even want to listen to his voice. I don’t want to hear what he has to say. I know what I saw. I can feel what he did to me. I need more time to think about my next steps. I don’t need him getting in my way or my head. You walk over to the bed, pulling your phone out of your purse. Kildare County Prison. What now? What could they possibly want? Clicking the button, you accept the call, lifting it to your ear.

“Hello?”

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“I’m here for visitation hours,” you announce softly.

The officer nods, standing up from his desk, walking around to the massive metal door. The alarm buzzes, hardware clanking as he opens the entry, letting you back into jail. You wander into the room, empty and clinical, with five seats and five small windows vacant on the other side. You take a chair, feeling your anxiety rise. Even though you were a mess of makeup and tears last night, your beautiful dress hanging torn on your frame, at least you weren’t beaten.

You tighten the scarf around your head, adjusting your eyeglasses to cover your bruises. Not even a pound of makeup could mask this mess. Tony did a number on you; no amount of foundation could hide that. You hear a muffled buzz from the other side of the glass. The door opens; prisoners walk out, tired and weary. Your heart skips, warming instantly as you meet the same baby blues from the night before, a breath of fresh air hitting you as you see his smile.

He’s changed since his disheveled shirt, exchanged for a uniform provided by the state. The man somehow makes it look good, his white t-shirt pulled taut across his broad chest. His hair is brushed back, not sweaty and tousled like before, giving you the perfect view of his gorgeous face. “Hi,” he mouths before sitting down, grabbing the phone off the hook. You follow suit, doing the same. The soft breathing you heard over the receiver the evening prior comes through a little louder, matching the movements of his chest.

You can feel your heart beating faster, just as excited as you were when he made his request. ‘Come to the prison tomorrow at 11 for visitor hours. I want to meet you’. You smile brightly, dampening your joy moments later as you remember just where you are. This is not a coffee shop. This is not some cute first date at the Island Club. This is prison… Then you’re hit with another blow. What if Tony found out? What if he has eyes inside? You reach for a breath, feeling panic set in, so excited at the thought of meeting him in person that you didn’t even think about the very real risk. Heat burns behind your eyes, tears glossing your vision. A lump forms in your throat, even the simple act of breathing, harder than before.

“Are you okay, princess,” he asks gently. You match his gaze, making the mistake of looking at him over the rim of your sunglasses as tears pool in your eyes.

“I’m okay,” you answer shakily.

“Are you - Fuck… Are you sure?” He asks as he goes to stand, quickly remembering the glass that separates the two of you when he tries to get a better look.

“Positive.”

“I don’t know-”

“Positive,” you stop him. He drops his head and nods, not wanting to upset you, doing his best to push past it. His brows pinch together, not believing the lies you’re selling him. “Y/n. Yeah? I hope it’s okay that I asked you here…”

“Mhmm…” You smile narrowly. “I was hoping I’d get to meet you.”

“Is that so?” He asks in a low tone, sending butterflies swirling in your stomach.

“Yeah…” You give him a small nod, stifling your grin again. “How did you know my number?”

He takes a deep breath, relaxing in his chair, crossing one arm over his chest, tilting his head slightly to let his cheek press into the phone. “Well, I paid $500 for a name and $2,000 for your number, another 10k so you and I could talk freely. Well, as long as it’s legal, of course.”

“Seriously?” You ask. “That’s too much…”

“Nah. It’s not. Drop the bucket… I can tell you are worth far, far more than that, doll. Priceless.” You giggle and smile, your happiness making the corners of his lips pull even wider. The most perfect smile I’ve ever seen. “That laugh, princess,” he hums, his voice like honey, as he lives in each word. “I could listen to that all day if you’d let me.”

Princess… The same pet name used by Tony in his letter, so demeaning after what he did to me, was reclaimed by this man instantly. Again, I’m lost in the moment with him, nestled in the sanctuary of my mind. What I wouldn’t do to sit next to him; smell his cologne, feel his knee brush softly against mine as he smiles down at me. I could feel the warmth of the words leaving his lips, not just hear them through the phone.

“You’re lovely,” you coo bashfully, feeling heat creep across your bruised cheeks.

Rafe clears his throat, changing slightly in his seat, the smoothness of his approach shifting as you adjust your glasses. He looks at you, trying his best to control his anger and questioning for your benefit, but he just can’t. “Did uh… Did you have those last night?” He asks weakly, well aware of the answer. His eyes narrow in concern, his softness quickly stripped. Your jaw tightens, lashes fluttering to hold back the tears that hadn’t disappeared. You shake your head ‘no’. The words that left your mouth struck him like a knife to the heart; a few shallow breaths in his broad chest was all he could muster.

“I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be fine?” He asks as his voice cracks with anger and emotion. “You shouldn’t have to worry about that - ‘You’ll be fine’,” he huffs. “You need to know, I know what you’re dealin’ with, and you’re far from it.” Your nostrils flare, muscles tense as you try to keep your tears from spilling over. “When I get out of here. I’m gonna take care of that for you. And, if I’m lucky, I’d like to take care of you too,” he pledges. You can tell he means every word.

“You - You don’t even know me. I don’t even know your name-”

“Rafe,” he cuts you short, the corners of his lips quivering in a slight smile he’s putting on just to ease your worry. The sheer thought of what happened to you the night prior evidently shocking him to his core. “Cameron,” he rasps out his last name, clearing his throat as he tries to gain his composure.

“It’s nice to meet you, Rafe Cameron.” His name leaves your lips, making you smile again.

“I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, but can I see your eyes?” He asks sweetly. You nod, pulling the glasses off your face, before meeting his watch. “There she is,” he whispers. “You’re stunning. You know?”

“Thank you.”

“No, sweetheart. Thank you. And, it’s nice to meet you too.” You’re put at ease in his presence. Rafe seems to be the type of man who is rough for everyone and soft for you. The kind to commit heinous crimes, but don’t you dare fuck with what’s mine. He’d never do this to me… “So, we have about 10 minutes. It’s not enough time. I’m going to call you. Yeah?”

“Of course,” you answer quickly, scooting a little closer toward the glass, making him bite his lip at your excitement.

“I’m getting out of here in a week. Can you come and see me tomorrow?” He asks hopefully.

“Of course, Rafe.”

“N’he comes home in seven days-“ Rafe starts, catching you off guard as he spouts details you didn’t even know. Your confusion must be painted all over your face because he quickly assures you. “I know people. I know he’s in Monterrey; I know he’s into some pretty serious shit. So am I.”

“You are?” You ask shakily, bottom lip quivering with adrenaline. Tony never told you anything; everything was a mystery with him, dismissed and cloaked in a vain compliment to get you off his back. ‘You’re too pretty to worry about this, baby. Shh… all you gotta do is look pretty and spend Daddy’s money’. This is the most truth I’ve gotten about his dealings than I have in our entire relationship.

“I don’t like keepin’ secrets. I have a feelin’ you’re used to that shit. Not with me. Okay?”

“Okay…” you nod dutifully, nervously tapping your nails on the cool metal counter. “Well, in that case, why are you here?”

Rafe sucks his teeth and clears his throat, looking side to side, checking on the inmates sharing space with him. “Murder. Allegedly.” The blood drains from your face, your eyes widen like saucers. Murder? “I didn’t do it - I didn’t shoot that guy. I don’t even know him. I never met him a day in my life, but I gotta whole lotta enemies.”

“I suppose,” you whisper shakily.

“It wasn’t me…” There’s more that he wants to say. It’s right on the tip of his tongue. ‘It wasn’t me… this time.’ A change of scenery, and he’d probably tell you everything. “You gotta believe me. I promise-”

“I do,” you stop him, making his eyebrows lift slightly in surprise. “I believe you, Rafe.”

He looks back at you and smiles. “Good girl.” Your heart bangs in your chest, pulse thumping in your ears. “M’sorry our first conversation’s so hard. I didn’t want it to be like this… I wanna get this out of the way and put it to bed, ‘course I gotta handle business, but I’ll do the dirty work. You don’t need any more stress. After today, I don’t wanna speak about him anymore. Just you. You are the only thing I wanna talk about, princess,” he smiles, tapping gently on the glass. You rest your hand on it. Rafe does the same, pressing his large palm to match.

The thought of a physical connection makes your head spin, the pair of you looking at each other starry-eyed. “Can I count on you to pick me up when I get out?” He asks, anxiously like you’d say anything but ‘yes.’ You nod, unsure of the timeline or how you could escape when Tony returns. “His flight doesn’t get in until 4:30. N’Tony’s got a meetin’ with a new buyer-” Rafe gives you a little nod - he’s the buyer.

“Rafe-”

He shakes his head ‘no’, stopping you before you can start. “I’m not scared of him, baby. We need to come to an understanding, him and I. He needs to understand that his actions have consequences. He needs to understand you’re mine.”

His?

I’m Rafe’s.

You stare at him like a dear in the headlights yet again, stunned silent by his words. “Do you want that, princess?” He asks as he looks back at you.

“I do.”

Rafe shakes his head and smiles, slightly confused like he can’t believe what you’re saying. “I gotta week to make a plan. I have to get to him. You think you could help me with that?” Your stomach turns as you replay Rafe’s first lie. His mouth said ‘conversation’ but his eyes said ‘execution’. A conversation is not just a conversation. I’m not stupid. “You gotta act normal when you’re around him, princess. Business as usual. Do you think you can do that f’me?” You nod in agreement. “You’re going to do so good, baby. You’re brave. All right? You’re here. Aren’t you? You’re not afraid to take a risk. I mean, you’ve been here, after all,” he adds as he swirls his finger, gesturing to his confinement. “What did a sweet thing like you do to end up in here anyway?” He questions, cocking his head slightly as he fights back a smirk.

“I uhh…” You giggle breathily, still uneasy about what you can and can’t share, attempting to feed Rafe just enough to answer his question, not enough to incriminate yourself any further. “I trashed his truck.”

”The Maybach?” Rafe asks with a lifted brow; the smirk pulling wider as he tilts his body into the glass, his strong forearms resting on the countertop. You give him a nod ‘yes’. “That’s a two hundred thousand dollar ride, sunshine. Uhh, with what?” He asks as he scratches at his 5’o’clock shadow, a fire burning in his eyes, taking pleasure in your little stunt.

“A bat.”

“A bat. Huh? Well, fuck doll, You’ll be just fine.”

Your shoulders fall as your body relaxes a little more. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I will be alright. Maybe I can pull this off. “Okay,” you answer, starting to believe the words he’s saying yourself.

“After I hash out everything with Tony, I’m gonna take you out for a drink, and we’ll celebrate all night.”

You smile bashfully, his proposal clouding your brain; thoughts drifting away as he baits you with his proposition. He’s not saying a lot, but saying so much at the same time. ‘All night’… Drinks, celebration; sex… Freedom? Maybe, if everything goes his way, which I have a feeling it usually does.

“Words, angel,” Rafe hums, pulling you out of your haze.

You smile back at him, hungry-eyed, finding yourself impatient for the time to come already. “All night…”

Rafe licks his lips, savoring what little he can see of you. You can only imagine what he’s thinking, looks alone telling you that he’s picture a million and one ways he can make you scream his name. “Beautiful.”

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It had been a week… A week of getting to know him. A week of Rafe Cameron. Praise. Promises. The possibility of what a life could look like with him. Of course, there’s a chance it could all go to shit. What would I do then? What would I do if Tony did something to Rafe?

I guess Tony’s something I’ll have to take care of if that time comes. But what if he takes my life? I guess either way I’ll be free.

Your week went like clockwork: visitation at nine, a phone call every night at four. Rafe’s voice filled your ears, saving you from your dark thoughts, filling you with light. As he promised, there was no talk of Tony; the two of you more focused on getting acquainted with each other to worry about much more.

When 4 pm struck you pulled out your phone, waiting impatiently for Rafe’s call. It rang a moment later, making you scramble for the accept button. The rug was pulled out from underneath you after your sweet ‘hey, baby,’ and Tony’s ‘hello, darling’. His voice on the other end of the line was gut-wrenching leaving you to maintain that same bliss reserved for Rafe.

It taught you one thing, though… you were a much better liar than you imagined, acting like the steadfast, naive girlfriend you’ve played so many times before when you fed into the bullshit. ‘Are you having fun in Mexico, baby? Did you get to go to the beach, handsome? I can’t wait for you to come home, daddy. I miss you.’ And, he ate it all up, more than usual even. The guilt of his little “lesson” still weighing heavily on his icy heart, apparent in every whispered ‘I love you’ and “You know you’re my girl. Right?’

Wrong.

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You lean slightly outside your Magnum XE, waiting for Rafe. Catching the mirror, you check your makeup; almost all of the harm caused by Tony is covered up or faded away. You’re restless, drumming your hands on the leather steering wheel while waiting for him. You leave the car, walking around the front, adjusting your pink fur coat before sitting pretty on the hood. I wanna look good for him.

Last night was just a taste. You bite your lip, thinking about your phone conversation with Rafe. It was the first exchange that was more than just sweet and assuring, turning risky fast. It started with Rafe asking what you were wearing, ending with you, a panting mess in his ear as he talked you through it all. You soaked your fingers just like he asked as he set the pace, telling you what to do and when, praising you for doing such an good job for him. He promised he’d take care of you… And he did.

Fuck, I can’t wait to thank him myself.

You watch the door swing open, that very same door you walked out of just days before, but unlike you, Rafe is all smiles. That smile… He slings his bag over his shoulder, shooting you a wink that has you giggling like a schoolgirl.

Your heart patters as he steps closer, moving with a purpose. He takes you into his arms, stealing your breath as his lips lock with yours in a deep, passionate kiss. Rafe’s hand wraps around the back of your neck, the other bound around your waist, needing you closer. You live in the moment, memorizing the shape of his body in yours. The smell of his cologne lingers lightly on the shirt he had on when he stumbled into his cell that night, the scent of it somehow already so familiar. You grab onto his button-down, tugging him in, causing him to smile against your lips.

“Hi, princess.”

Part 3

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[f4riedimples]

one of the girls

Pairings:Sam carpenter x f!reader

summary:truthfully ,after months of hooking up you never knew if Sam would ever officially be yours.

Inspired song:one of the girls-Jennie,The Weeknd,lily-rose depp.

a/n:(reader is 19, Sam is 25)

warnings:friends with benefits?,small smut/suggestiveness, secrets, jealousy

‘We don't gotta be in love, no I don't gotta be the one, no I just wanna be one of your girls tonight’

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Yes, you had feelings for Sam but you’d never thought it’d turn out like this.

I mean- why would she decide to do this herself anyways? It all felt so unreal. you’d known each other since before she left her home 5-6 years ago.

and ever since she was back you couldn’t help but have feelings for her. She was everything that you wanted.

“Right there- right there, fuck.” She had whispered to you as you continued to please her, switching to whatever you knew she truly wanted deep down.

she loved to be dominant but you knew she’d also love to be taken care of so you decided to do whatever you can to please her.

‘Give me tough love Leave me with nothin' when I come down My kinda love Force me and choke me 'til I pass out’

after you made her feel good you both just would simply put on your clothes. No aftercare, sometimes no words.

nothing.

after you both came out of her room you helped yourself to a bottle of water in her fridge. You really needed it after all.

If you were gonna be honest as much as you loved doing whatever Sam asked of you, you wanted so bad sometimes for more. A real relationship. You hated how attached you were getting.

You at least would’ve loved some sex that felt soft, loving, and of course comforting. Not just sex that’s more…freaky. Not just the degrading words that would turn you on, the way she would spank you, the way she made you feel the way no one else could.

it felt good in the moment but you wanted more.

but you might never speak on that.

“hey y/n.” You turned around as she said your name, waiting for what she was gonna say next.

“can you hand me a bottle of water?” She panted as she wiped a bit of sweat off her brow. You handed her some water and she eagerly almost chugged it before chuckling.

“hey is it okay if I take a shower real quick before Tara and the others come back?” You asked almost shyly before she sent you a smile.

“of course.” You smiled and made your way to the shower trying not to think about everything running in your head.

after getting out of the shower you quickly threw on some clothes and excited the apartment, giving Sam a rushed good bye as you power walked out of the apartment.

Sam on the other hand…well. She didn’t know how to feel. Or what she felt.

the next day you had come over with the rest of the group to hang out before going out to the club that night. As soon as you arrived and Sam answered the door you saw Danny in the room.

you stared, almost glared at the muscular boy before Sam interrupted all the thoughts that were coming to your petty little head.

“y/n, come in!” She smiles seemingly not knowing what you were staring at. Once you had got in and set your bag down you hugged Mindy before sitting on the couch next to her.

You guys had quite a fun time for a while. All until when you weren’t paying attention Sam was taking Danny to her room.

your eyes widen as it felt like your worst fears were coming true right in front of your eyes.

no one noticed at first until you had this almost upset look on your face. Chad turned to you concerned thinking that you were about to cry or maybe even scream.

“Y/n? You okay? You seem pretty tense.” He asked concerned as you just shook your head and sighed with a chuckle.

“I’m fine. Thanks Chad.” You sent him a smile at his caring nature and also because to night was supposed to be fun.

and besides, Sam wasn’t yours anyways. Why would you be mad over someone who doesn’t belong to you?

once Sam and Danny had came out of the room after what felt like an eternity you had all went to the club.

while there you had some shots but decided to separate from the group.

In the corner of your eye you had saw Sam dancing pretty suggestively with someone else. There was so many people around you that you could only focus on Sam in the face she was making as she was touching the person.

“she’s not yours, she’s not yours, she’s not yours…she’s not…” you said in your mind as your eyes filled with tears. You didn’t know wether you wanted to tell that to the person or how much you were telling it literally to yourself.

she wasn’t yours. She wasn’t anybody’s.

you were just lucky your friends weren’t currently seeing you. You made your back to the bar and ordered another shot.

“thank you!-“ you almost squealed trying to be happy and cheer up. As you took the shot and felt the alcohol burn your throat you tried to get out of the sad mood and shake it off.

you felt a tap on your shoulder. You didn’t wether or not you hoped it was Sam before turning around to reveal…

some random guy.

he had a smirk like smile on his face and you already knew he wanted to dance.

you really wanted to roll your eyes.

“sorry. I’m not good at dancing.” You lied as you tried not to have an attitude. But of course he wouldn’t let up that easily.

“oh come on sexy. I saw you dancing a few minutes ago. I know you got moves.”

you sighed. “Sorry I just really don’t wanna dance right now.

the guy rolled his eyes with an attitude.” Cmon! I could really make it worth your while. Besides…maybe if you want we could go back to my place and you could experience some real fun.” His breath reeked of alcohol. You could tell by his clothes, scent, messed up tattoos and teeth that it wouldn’t be happening.

he was clearly fucked up in more ways than one. He yelled at the bartender to get you both shots of one of your least favorite alcohols.

You tried to be patient and talk out of this. “Listen man I’m just not interested. You’re not my type. Keep your shots for yourself. I can buy my own.” You argued with a slight attitude.

he couldn’t help but groan. “Damn. Why don’t chicks like a real man who’ll take care of you?” He then mumbled under his breath as he started to walk away. “Ugly bitch.”

you gripped the bar table in anger as you tried to keep a your emotions from the past weeks at bay.

you quickly turned around and ordered another shot from the bartender Toni who had a really sorry look on their face feeling bad for you.

as you took your next shot you heard Tara shout your name happily.

“y/n cmon! Why are you just sitting there by yourself?” It wasn’t anything to be rude or sarcastic but you still felt angry at it. But you knew that it wasn’t her fault for the predicament you were in.

you turned around and sighed before taking another shot and smiling. “Let’s party!”

now you were currently dancing with Mindy in not a too suggestive way. Everyone around you could tell it was just playful and friendly.

she was behind you as you two danced to the current song that was playing. It felt so good to let loose that you started to forget about the whole Sam situation.

that is until she took your hand and led you to another part of the club.

you were shocked and confused in your drunk mind. “Sam? What are you doing?”

“dancing. With you.” You could tell that she was probably not too happy but you ignored it and made sure not to make her mood worse. you guys were dancing like a couple who were ready to get it on. You felt her hands on your body and saw how she sent a slight glare at Mindy.

was she jealous? Couldn’t be. Her and Mindy probably just had an argument recently or for all you could know it probably wasn’t even aimed directly at Mindy.

you were almost getting turned on with the way Sam was dancing against you and grabbing you. It made you wanna kiss her so bad. And you almost did until you realized how angry could be.

‘Lock me up and throw away the key *She* knows how to get the best out of me I'm no fools for the world to see Trade my whole life just to be’

you were so ready and hoping Sam would take you back to her apartment right then and there when everyone got back and wouldn’t notice. But after a few minutes you saw her staring on another direction with a much different gaze.

you knew that this would probably be the end of your dancing now and you were right as Sam pulled away and walked off.

you were sad again. You weren’t gonna do anything crazy to get her jealous again. No. You were just gonna go back over to your friends and dance in a much more friendly and less provocative way.

you were once again trying to feel better but everyone around you could tell that was a mask to hide how you truly felt.

‘Top of the world but I'm still not free It's such a secret that I keep Until it's gone, I can never find peace Brace my whole life just to be’

when you all got back to Sam’s your drunkenness had already died down from all of your emotions on everything.

you so desperately wanted to talk to Sam before you all got back into the car.

but you’d just embarrass yourself or at least that’s what you felt.

you wanted so badly to move on. Get away. Stop it. But you knew that it would be such a bitch to leave. Not when you and Sam had already done so much.

you were just thankful that she didn’t try to bring back whoever she was dancing with at the club.

you hopped into the shower first and got rid of all the little bit of sweat from your time parting at that club. even as the drunken state your mind had was fading you couldn’t help but think about if Sam came in her right now.

seeing you like this. But not just for some hook up to end the night. No. Maybe to…finally be official?

You knew it was beyond stupid so you tried to get that hopeful thought out of your head.

as you came out of the shower you realized that as everyone was mostly asleep Sam had her door wide open.

she pulled you inside. “There you are princesca.” She whispered lustfully before kissing you passionately.

at least you were her girl for the night.