#want to bite my own face off right now im so stressed

[thedeafprophet]

Man if I'm so utterly miserable during midterms what are the final exams gonna be like this term ajdjfkfsjdjfngjh

[purinfelix]

hi!! I really love your work! I was wondering if you could do one where Gavi and the reader hate each other, but one day the reader had nobody to turn to so for some reason she found comfort with Gavi if that makes sense

i don't want to talk about anything ₊˚⊹⋆

pairing: (academic rival) gavi x reader w/c: 1.5k a/n: ANON i love this idea and im sorry its been sitting in my inbox for so long - i decided to sort of involve it with the academic rivals fic i wrote, since it made sense to me, hope u don't mind! <3

No matter how many times you blinked, the words of your essay refused to stay still on the laptop in front of you, the feeling of your eyes growing tired only adding to your frustration. According to the irritatingly loud clock on the wall, you had been at the university library for almost five hours now, on top of an entire day of lectures and tutorials. Your head ached, and your mouth was dry ever since you had run out of water an hour ago but had been too engrossed in studying to go get more, and every time you closed your eyes you considered falling asleep right there and then. You hadn't even gone insane before, but you were pretty sure this was as close as you were going to get.

Forcing yourself to stand up you tried your best not to dwell on how unprepared you felt for your upcoming finals, or how many assignments you still had to finish. Even with how tired you were, your brain still managed enough energy to stress you out, even as you definitively shut the textbooks you had brought with you. You were more than aware of how childish this was, having thought you'd outgrown your ridiculous study methods years ago. But something about your recent dip in grade, how frustrated and helpless it made you feel, had spurred you into a frenzy you were too far into to stop. You couldn't recall the last spare hour you hadn't spent studying or the last conversation you had that hadn't been about exams.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder you reluctantly left the desk that had been your home for the majority of the evening. After a struggle, you managed to get the library doors open and were immediately. met with the miserably biting cold of the late winter night - the thought of the long trek back to your dorm room acting as salt in the wound. Your hands are already freezing as they dart into your jacket pocket in search of your phone, and you flick it on to check for any response to the many, many texts you had sent to your friends. Most of them were invited to study with you or questions about lectures, but all you were met with was a pathetically empty inbox, the reflection of your own tired face once it switched off, and the stinging realisation of just how isolated you had become, and how lonely you felt. Perhaps it was this, or the howling wind whipping around you, that caused tears to prick up in your eyes as you bit your lip painfully hard to stop them from falling.

You're overcome with a sudden desperation to get back to your dorm as quickly as possible before anyone can see you crying like an idiot. The added barrier of your own fatigue makes this difficult though, and the immense cold doesn't help. Before you know it though you're already halfway there, passing by the campus football court which is still brightly lit and lively despite how late it's getting - a fact you curse as you make out a familiar figure, and the single last person you want to see right now.

Gavi seems to spot you too and even though you hand your head to prevent any more tears, you can hear his loud footsteps as he leaves his friends and game to jog up to you. He calls out your name and the smug tone in his voice is enough for you to will your legs to move faster. When you don't stop, you hear him pause before running up to match your pace.

"Long day at the library, huh?" he jeers, walking beside you and clearly not taking any notice to the fact that you're not in the mood to entertain his ego. Usually, you would've jumped at the opportunity to flex your work ethic in his lazy face but not now, not with how you're feeling. All you wish is for him to leave you alone before he sees you crying and it gives him another thing to make fun of you for - but just as this entire day has turned out, your wishes are far from granted.

"You know, I did notice you've been slacking a little lately. Even I found the last quiz pretty easy and I could tell you struggled with it."

You scoff loudly at his words but don't offer a response in fear of him being able to tell something's off from the quiver you're bound to have. A small part of you does question why he's been paying so much attention to you lately but has little time to when you feel him reach out to grab your hand, suddenly jerking you back and stopping you in your tracks.

Finally, you crane your neck up without thinking and lock eyes with his, and you hear the next comment he was preparing catch in his throat. It happens so quickly that you almost don't notice it, but his smug expression softens immediately and you can almost make out the concern in his eyes once he sees your tear-stricken face. The contrast from the teasing way he normally looks at you is so stark it almost stops the flow of tears from your eyes, and you almost wish it had because now you're standing here sniffling like an idiot, and he's standing there watching you.

"Hey…" he mumbles, and the pity in his voice is enough to make you want to run away, even as he drops your hand. Still, you can tell he's not enjoying the awkward situation any more than you are but is trying his best.

"I'm fine," you blurt out instinctively, messily wiping the stream of tears from your cheeks before laughing - at what you're not entirely sure, but you're desperate for an opportunity to lighten the mood.

"You don't look it," he sounds so mature that it almost takes you aback.

You hang your head, half in shame and half so that you don't have to look into his eyes when you lie. "I'm just really tired."

It's almost irritating how sudden his movements can be and how easily they can catch you off guard, but his athleticism has never blended itself to subtlety. Still, it's hard not to be shocked when he pulls you once more and before you realise it you're enveloped in his arms, pulled flush against his chest. His body still radiates heat from the exercise he was just doing, a fact that you find comfort in. Before you can stop yourself, you're already sinking into his touch, its catharsis being exactly what you needed, but hadn't realised. You wrap your arms back around him and close your eyes as you rest your head against his chest. The rhythm of his heart is bold and quick as you listen to it, and you chalk this up to the exercise as well - an excuse you're not lucky enough to have for your own quickening heart.

He's the first to break the silence. "You're the smartest person I know, you know." He says it barely above a whisper, and he seems to be confessing more to the night sky than to you.

If you had just a little more pride in yourself, you might've met this with one of your usual jabs. Strangely enough though, all signs of the competitive nature you reserve for him have gone missing. Maybe it's because of your surprise that he seems to know exactly what you need to hear, but you're sure it's more because of how tired you are.

"Thank you," is all you can quietly muster up, but given how earnestly it comes out, you hope it'll be enough.

"I don't mean to stress you out, not just now but all the time. I'm sorry for that," he sighs, and you can tell without seeing his face that he really means it.

"It's alright, I appreciate it," you laugh softly, before adding, "sometimes."

He squeezes you a little harder and standing there in his arms, despite how mind-numbingly strange the situation is, you allow yourself to forget about some things for a bit. Forget about how late it is, about all the work you still have to do, about how you're not meant to like him at all, how you're hoping no one you know sees the two of you right now. For just a minute, the two of you share a world you had only gotten teasing glimpses of during your heated conversations in hallways, your quick comparisons after grades get released or quippy comebacks. Only now, not a single word needs to pass between you two - the sound of his beating heart and the strange sense of comfort that falls over you being all you need.

[prettyboykatsuki]

oliver talking his partner through it and calling him d**** god your brain is so huge my stomach hurts thinking about this. he’ll never tell you he loves you to your face and tries to fuck you more like he hates you because he doesn’t want to get too attached but as you’re getting close he’s all in your face and your neck, teasing you, biting your ear and softly begging you to tell him how you feel, how it’ll be better for him if you tell d**** just how close you are and how much you need him. takes you over the crest so sweetly, and continues rolling into you, chasing his own. his kisses are nonstop and so overwhelming, and he knows they are but he just really needs to connect with you like this. never the first to say “i love you” but unfortunately (in his opinion) he expresses it in so many other ways. sorry.

but i crumble completely when you cry | a. oliver

✮ tags ; DADDY KINK, afab + fem!reader, situationship!oliver, hooking up, unresolved romantic tension, p in v, praise, soft sex, it gets emotionally strange, riding, creampies, unprotected sex, under-negotiated kink in a sense though oliver is very careful

✮ wc ; 2.2k (i dont want to talk about it)

✮ a/n ; anon im going to haunt your dreams for putting this absurd image into my head when i dont even go here im crying screaming throwing up ive been thinking about it for hours. hours of my life wasted on this guys dick. upsetting!!!!!

also i do not write this often and do not plan too again any time soon so if ur seeing this and thinking about following me for content like it i would not recommend!!!

✮ synopsis ; you don't trust oliver with your heart or your feelings. nor do you expect anything from him.

but it's hard not to lean into him when he decides to cradle you so gently.

Your relationship with Oliver is both very ambiguous and very clear.

There's a line drawn, and you both steer clear of crossing it in your interactions. Oliver is fun. He's attractive and charming, a massive flirt but just genuine enough to be interesting.

It helps that he's hot. Physically, he's got an unreal build.

He's an athlete, so he's big. Wide chest and strong arms, thick thighs and the height to top it off. He's 6'3, and he's sexy (and his dick is huge) - and you sleep with him because of that. You don't date him explicitly because he's a womanizer. If you'd met when you were a little younger, a little more naive - you might've tried to dog-train him into being your boyfriend.

Because on top of the immaculate dick, he's fun to be around. He's funny, he drinks well, he's not a scumbag in the ways that turn you off.

You're old enough to know better. You have a career. You're too busy, and too jaded about love to try and fix whatever weird shit he has going on. So even if the two of you harbor some sort of emotional or romantic feelings for each other, you're smart enough to not get invested in those feelings and smart enough to have no expectations.

Oliver is your fun. He's your sneaky link, your weekend off. You come to him to blow off steam. You have rough, fast sex and it's good. Sometimes you chill afterwards, and you'll indulge each other in some physical affection but other times you take your shower and leave. It's a good time, and you know well enough not to ever ask him for any of your emotional needs. You have your therapist and girl friends for that.

Normally, when you're having a rough week - it's prime time to go to him. He'll fuck you a little harder than usual, and sometimes he's nice enough to kiss it better. But it's still, very distinctly, never crossing that boundary.

But some weeks, like this week - shit is bad. Not just stressful bad, but everything in the fucking world that could go wrong, is going wrong bad. It's not the kind of thing you can get over by compartmentalizing and even when you try to do your usual thing it doesn't really work.

You're trying right now - to get over the fucked up week you had. And you're turned on, but somehow - it's still not enough to get you completely out of it.

Oliver pauses mid stroke, in missionary - hetero-chromatic eyes staring you down as your thoughts are somewhere else completely. You don't notice the first time he stops, or the first time he calls you.

And he only gets your attention by cupping your face and making you look at him. You startle as you cast your glance his way.

"What's with you?" He asks, though he's not pissed or anything "Not feelin' it? Want me to stop?"

"No, you don't have too."

"Not what I asked," He chastises, letting go of your face "Not having your full attention is making me go soft,"

This makes you laugh, and Oliver cracks a smile seeing the tension melt off your face if only slightly.

"I'm cool with stopping." He assures. You let your hand reach up to his shoulder.

"It's not like I want to stop, necessarily? Like I wanna do something to get my mind off it and sex feels like the best option, but you know how it goes sometimes," You say, trying your best to avoid the emotional baggage of your words "We can stop though. I'll pay you for your wasted time," You tack the joke on at the end to ease the tension.

You're expecting him to pull out and stop, or maybe challenge himself into fucking you so good that you forget. Something more quintessentially Oliver than what he does do.

He gives you a blank look first, than a laugh that is a touch too sincere for you to be comfortable "That bad of a week?"

You're suddenly in dangerous territory. Somehow, this strange intimacy makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You swallow thickly, the emotions coming over you so quick you end up looking away.

"Yeah. You know. It's fine, but you know."

"Mm," He says. He leans into your space. His breath is warm and his stubble tickles your skin as he whispers in your ear. You feel your breath hitch. And the air feels heavy "Wanna try somethin' else?"

"Like what?"

"A surprise," He says first, and find your stomach tightening. A hollowness in your nerves "Gotta trust me."

"You're scaring me." You joke.

"I'm a sex expert, you know?" Oliver says, humming against your skin "If I can't remedy your little problem with my dick, it's bad for my street cred. My yelp reviews will tank."

"You're such a dumbass."

"Do you trust me?"

You don't know how to answer. Yes, for the most part. Not with everything, but with your pleasure at least. Whatever this is, it doesn't feel the same. But you say yes, anyways. Oliver kisses your jaw in reply, then he pulls out.

He flips position easily. He ends up on his back, then he grabs you to rest on top of him. You're not sure what you're expecting. He holds you by your hips as your sex hovers over his cock. His thumb is rubbing circles into your skin as he sinks you down slowly onto him.

You only stare at him, mouth opening as you feel him stretch you open for a second time.

You're more aware of it this way. He's so thick, and so intrusive - and normally, you're feeling that in hard strokes. Fast and rough, like something knocking into your cervix. But like this, he's hitting a deep angle. You can feel every curve, every inch, as you come down slowly.

He keeps you there. For longer than you'd expect. Just keeps you, settles you, holds you gently. You stare at him as he grabs your hand, locking your fingers. Your first instinct is to panic, or crack a joke - but there's an intense look in his eye that shuts you up.

Uncharacteristically gentle, you find yourself frightened. Oliver's hands reach for you again. They hold your waist and slide up the planes of your body. He holds your tits in his palms and squeezes.

He does this a lot, but there's not usually this much touching. This much foreplay. It's grabby, a deeper pressure. He doesn't...feel you, in the way he is now. You stare at him, and he looks back at you so fondly you feel a strange urge to pretend it never happened.

"Play with your clit," He says, though there's no urgency in his voice.

Deep and smooth, the timbre in it has you shaking. You listen, on auto-pilot as you play with yourself clumsily and build a slow pressure. He just watches.

"C'mere, baby. And don't stop touching yourself."

Another pause. It's not the first time he's called you that. He likes to call you all sorts of things when you're fucking, and baby is one of the few. But not like that. Not like this. He gives you a lazy, self satisfied smile and encourages you by placing a hand on where he can reach on your low back.

You lean down, and Oliver tucks you into his chest. He's warm, and strong - and smells so good, like musk and cologne. Your free hand is on his chest, as he grips your hips and fucks up into you.

"That's it," His voice is pleasant to your ears. It feels funny to you "Just gotta listen to me."

He starts fucking you slowly. It's a familiar feeling, a pleasant stretch that dulls into a euphoric fullness. But it's never been this slow before. Each thrust is slow, and punctual, and so deep you feel yourself gasping. It's not enough to push you over the edge, but it's enough to make your mind feel a little numb.

You think he's going to keep at you like this, maybe edge you to take you out of it. But he doesn't. He keeps his pace.

"Had a hard time this week, didn't you, tough girl?" He mumbles, so low it doesn't feel real. You feel your heart start to race. You feel your throat start to close around something, choking "Did a good job and came to me. Gonna let me take care of it?"

You stumble. You aren't sure what to say, you nod and hope he feels it. He laughs a little. You can't be sure if you're fucking Oliver or not.

You know it's him but he's never been like this. Not once. Not ever.

"Gonna let daddy take care of you?" He says, though it's tentative. Your breath hitches. Something strange overwhelms your senses "Tell me, baby."

"Uhm," Your first reaction is a sense of resistance, an immediate pull away. Not that you hate it but you aren't sure how to adjust. You squirm, but you don't tell him no. You feel like you can't in this state "Uh-uh,"

He keeps surprising you, pressing his lips to yours where you hover over him, tender as he ups the pace of his thrusts.

"That's what I like to hear," He almost sounds proud "You'll hurt your head if you think too much. And I'd be a bad daddy, letting that happen, yeah?"

A vulnerable, foreign sensation drives you to speak "You're not bad in that way."

He laughs "Just in other ways, right?"

You giggle "Uh-huh."

"But not in this one," He repeats, very carefully. He fucks into you harder now, pays extra special attention to you. It's all for you, is what he's saying in a language completely foreign yet somehow so known. One only the two of you will ever know fully, confined in the four walls of this room "Daddy is good at taking care of you like this, so you should let him do just that. Tough girls always need their daddies, hm?"

It's what ends up tipping you up over the edge. You cling to him, succumbing to whatever weird space the two of you have fallen into you. Suspended in this odd sense of comfort that Oliver has thrust you in unannounced.

You don't trust Oliver with a lot, and this is more than what you should ever find yourself giving. In the back of your head you think you should pull away.

But he's comforting. It feels good, and strangely feels safe - and even for all the ways he's awful, you trust he'd never do anything bad to you. Even if it's a blip in the timeline, for now it's what you need. A blurry cross into your emotional needs that translate into your physical ones. Too much and so overwhelming, you hug closer to him and take a deep breath.

"Mm," You let yourself lean into him. Just this once, you promise yourself. "I wanna cum."

"Want it a little harder?"

"Mhm,"

"Then Daddy will give it to you a little harder, yeah? Anything for you." He says, and you try not to think to deeply on what that really means. Because even in this state you know it's not nothing, but you should never pry "Daddy can give you anything you want."

"Yeah?"

He chuckles a little as he fucks into you hard. Fucks into you how you need. You're wet enough, and wondering if you were always so into being doted on. Or if it's just the fact that it's Oliver. Another thing you decide to overlook as you zero in on the sensation of being pistoned from underneath. You're soaking. The room noisy with the sticky noise of Olivers cock penetrating you over and over, skin hitting skin as his hips press against your ass. His grip is bruising but not intentionally, his chest huffed in pleasure.

He's just as close as you are, you know all of his cues. You play with your clit faster, sensitive bud throbbing hard as all the blood rushes south. Your mouth has fallen open as the slow, thick desire coiling and culminating into something cosmic. Something big and heavy, but not too fast. Not a crash landing like you're used to.

But a single weight, the force of a star dropping to Earth. You figure Oliver is the gravity in your universe, holding you down so you don't float too far. You want to cling onto him for much longer.

And somehow, you're inclined to think he would let you.

"Oliver," You say his name as it builds, then decide on something else "Daddy,"

"I'm here, baby," He says back, like it's all he has to say for everything to make sense when nothing about this does "I'm right here. Let go."

So you do. You cum hard, and it comes in long never ending waves. Too much. It makes you collapse in Olivers arms, both arms coming around his neck as he continues to fuck you through the aftermath.

"Gonna," He voices, rasping as his thrusts become sloppy "Shit. Cumming, shit."

He cums with you, cums deep inside like usual and you mewl at the feeling of being filled with hot, sticky seed.

When it's over, you're almost afraid to look at him. When the tensions settled, and his chest goes back to it's steady breaths - you wonder whats going to happen next.

"Wanna stay like this for a while?"

You nod.

"Mm. Sleepy."

"Stay like this, then. I'll wake you in a little."

"So you can kick me out?" You joke, trying to pretend nothing is different. He pauses.

"Just to shower," He whispers, hand resting on your lower back "Sleep."

There's too much to think about. Tomorrow will be strange. You let yourself succumb to your own exhaustion.

"Okay."

[kuni-is-daddy]

Imagine shower sex with scara & wanderer

Scaramouche X Reader X Wanderer : Puppet pleasers.

Context: 'Agree to disagree'

Word count: 1.4k Straight filth.

|Scaraficlist!|ScaraNSFWAlphabet

Ft: F/ngering,Facef/cking, Scara's a jerk, Double p/netration.

"N-No..Scara..Kuni..Its fine, Im just tired..I'll go wash up for a bit"

CW: Minors do NOT interact past the cut! This is a NSFW POST!

Scara and kuni treating there darling to a soothing shower after their stressful date. Scara 'gently' guided you into the shower as kuni is adjusting the water just as you like it and their immediately both obsessed with how you look under them. Your eyes are droopy as the makeup washes off into the washcloth Kuni gently dampened your face with and mixed in soap, Holding your chin up with his pale fingers. While scara Bit his lip at how delicate you looked from the back. Bite marks he's given along your neck and small hickeys on your shoulders.

The shower was rather spacious and sparklingly clean to the point you saw your reflection by the thick tile rest, resting under a cubby with your bars of soap, shampoo and other bodywash they bought as a gift. You heard a soft sigh and assumed it was kuni, His lean form was shielding most of the warm water from your face and washing through his own hair. His indigo pupils never left your beautiful face as he carefully Dapped along your lips. Smudging off your lipgloss, then softly folding the towel towards your eyes. Just as he was, you we're like a doll to him in every way, He relished in you dressing up for him, The way your skirt perfectly curved along your thighs then up to your waist. Finally leading up to your breasts hidden under a blouse. Even recollecting your bitterly warm smile after patiently waiting with lessor lord kusanali for his return after days made his cock twitch.

In a daze he continued dapping the cloth despite your face being clearly washed off for the nth time. "K-kuni?" You blinked, "Are you okay?" You brushed his bangs out his eyes and his cheeks turned pink at the contact. "Hm? Yeah. I just...Do you feel better. Doll?" "Mhm~" You hummed and rested on his palm; the puppet became even more flustered than he already was. His eyes dimmed and moved closer to your face, intoxicated by the smell of your soap. Scara Averted his own gaze to kuni and looked at him unamused. What a pitiful state he's in; Scara thought, but archons was he right. You looked wonderful like this, Fragile... and so vulnerable like a flower as you pressed your soft lips on Kuni's. He removed his fingers and now cupped your face with his hand in search for your tongue. The water splashed onto your eyes, fluttering them shut while a pair of hands trailed along your chest and you moaned into Wanderer's mouth, catching him off guard as he pulled away with a thin trail of your saliva on his lips. "S-scara~? Wait-" He began licking along your previous bite marks and cupped your breasts. "Ah ah ah~ darling...When you asked to be pampered.. Did all my pet want was a little kiss?" Scara mocked kuni then grinned at him while he sucked his teeth. "I- mnn..No~" You shook your head and scara whispered in your ear. "Then take your reward like a goodgirl."

Before you could mutter another word kuni took ahold of your face again, cupping your cheeks with his thumb eagerly to shove his tongue within your taste. "Mnh~ hmn~" You moaned into kuni's mouth; His taste was a bit sweet like yours from dessert you both shared at the restaurant. Your hand trailed onto his neck, pushing him closer with breathy sighs leaving his lips. Scara's cock grew harder at the sight and bucked your hips closer to his erection, your ass skimmed along the tip of his cock while you we're sandwiched in-between the two puppets. He began licking along your previous bite marks until You finally pulled away from wanderer. Practically gasping for air through the heated mist of the shower. "shit.. your enjoying yourself arent you? My pretty little doll~" kuni went to touch your chest but got interrupted by scara's own hands wrapped around you. "Put her on down on the Tile. She's getting fucked the way she deserves." Scara ordered. You swallowed nervously at his explicit words turning your head down only to notice Kuni's shaft hard and leaking precum. He rolled his eyes but complied, Picking you up then laying your body onto the thick tile rest. Your back shivered a bit at the cold, but quickly relaxed in the hot shower. The two puppets looked over you once again, Legs spread apart and hair frazzled along the tile. And that 'innocent' glare you always gave them before they pounced on you like a cat.

Scara began pumping his cock, moving closer to your face where kuni shifted down in between your legs. "Open your mouth" He ordered again. You stuck your tongue out, panting again as the hot air made contact. Scara's eyes glowed a faint purple and he chuckled a bit at your obedience. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, Then guided your mouth onto his length almost a bit too gently. "If you bite, I wont let you cum." he whispered. Kuni Licked his lips at the sight of your wet clit, He traced his bangs back then licked around the bud, instantly making your thighs twitch. Scara let out a soft moan while your tongue laced around his cock. God your mouth was so fucking warm. It took every bit of the balladeers restraint to not face fuck you as he guided your head back and forth. You couldnt help but moan on his cock, Your body was overwhelmed with pleasure on both ends.

"Your- Mn~ such a needy little doll arent you.? You like being used like this from both ends?" Your head bucked back as kuni inserted two of his fingers into your pussy, scissoring you while licking along your folds. You moaned again as scara's length pushed deeper back and forth into your throat as if you we're begging for him to fuck you. "Ah~ just like that- F-fuck your gonna make me cum slut~Fuck..Fuck!~" Scara grabbed your hair roughly again and bucked his hips into your throat, pushing himself far enough that your eyes rolled back while swallowing his warm load and he slightly felt a sting. Kuni shoved a 3rd finger into your wetness. His slim fingers we're soaked in a mix of your juices and water as he stroked himself with his other hand. Scara leaned down, grouping your breasts in his hands while playing with your nipples. "Yeah? Your gonna cum from just his fingers slut?" "M' not a slut~ I- Please~! Kuni!" Kuni thrusted his fingers faster, chasing his own high while desperately licking your bud. "Remember what i told you slut?" the balladeer whispered again. "If you bite, your not gonna cum?" He said through snickers. "B-but I- Ah~! I didnt~! S-scara kuni-! please! please!" You whimpered and begged but to no avail Kuni Slowed down on your clit, Only peppering licks before licking up your current juices with his fingers.

Scaramouche picked you up, then had kuni hold you by your waist as he leaned onto the wall. "Wrap your arms around me." Without warning Kuni and scara both inserted their tips inside your prepped pussy and you nearly screeched after being so full. "Ah! S-scara- Kuni~! it's too much- Your so big~!" "You can take it darling~" Kuni said while kissing your shoulder. Scara thrusted up into your warmth, moaning at your walls squishing them both inside. "S-so fucking tight..~" Within the shower echo'd their mixed praise and moans in your mushy mind, Your throat was still horse from scara cumming inside, but you pleaded with short breathes to finally reach your orgasm. You we're so patient with them during the date and there many many arguments, Why couldnt they just reward their good girl after treating them so well. "R-right there and~ ah! Scara~ Kuni~ Mn Im close~! please dont stop! please let me cum!" "Hah~ look how fucking delirious she is. Already fucked out just like that~ You wanna cum that bad slut?" please please please "mhm~! please let me cum~!"

With another sloppy thrust from both of them, They came deep into your womb with their hot seed as your juices squirted onto them. As if on instant your body began to feel numb as your high subsided. You fell back into The balladeers chest with hazy vision and view as they cock warmed you. The room began to feel silent, And the only sound was your shared panting and shower still running warm water. It was comforting being in between them like this as stuffed as you we're. Finally, your eyes fluttered shut in-between them. A perfect view of two pairs of indigo eyes and a devilish smirks watching you rest.

[rush-the-stars]

AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART III

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

minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only

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

***

Suguru tries to tame you.

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✧ SPRING FEVER collab ✧

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

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

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

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

But then he holds the food away from you. 

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

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

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

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

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

He is rather pleased, though. 

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

He laughs warmly, fondly. 

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

You don’t respond to him.

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

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

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

The orange pops into your mouth. 

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

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

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

You swallow the piece in your mouth. 

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

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

Tears prick your eyes again. 

You turn your face away from him. He sighs. 

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

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

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

“I don’t need—”

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

Stubbornly, you remain silent. 

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t think you’ll win this one—

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

You feel silly for denying him.

Perhaps worse for agreeing.

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

Suguru studies you for a moment. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He takes hold of you easily. 

“Hurts?” He muses softly.

You nod, tense and quick. 

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

Instinctively, you cling to him.

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

“Breathe,” he says again gently.

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

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

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

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

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

You seek friction and he denies you. 

Frustratingly, tears spring to your eyes again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You glare up at him with glassy eyes. 

“Open,” he says, warm and low.

Pleased.

Turned on. 

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

You’re slow about it, or maybe he is. 

You hold his gaze furiously. 

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

***

The third day is perhaps the worst.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You press and scratch at inflamed, painful scent glands. 

Your jaw hurts strangely in the joints. 

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

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

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

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

Bite.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something inside of you snaps. 

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

In an instant, you are back atop him. 

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

He actually cries out in pain. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

This time, he isn’t so ill-prepared. 

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

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

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

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

Not so pristine. 

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

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

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

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

“Let me up,” you snap. 

“Will you be good?” Suguru asks. 

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

So drained, in fact, that your eyes gutter.

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

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

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

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

And for once, you don’t fight him. 

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

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

He tsks softly, “you’re a mess.” 

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

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

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

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

***

Suguru wakes you at some point. 

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

You whimper. 

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

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

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

You don’t have the wherewithal to understand this. 

For a moment, you hope that he means—

“I’m going to give you a bath.” 

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

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

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

You open your eyes and wince against the bathroom light. 

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

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

“No,” you snap, “leave.” 

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

“I’m not a child,” you protest.

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

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

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

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

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

You ache. 

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

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

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

Suguru lifts you into the bath. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Babying you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After a moment, you say, “I know.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The fever only worsens. 

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

*** 

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

Because of how Suguru finds you. 

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

For once, you have shocked Suguru. 

Enough that his lips part. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can nearly hear the way his teeth grind together. 

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

You practically purr, fingers pushing desperately inside yourself. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it working?” You ask. 

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

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

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

Suguru curses and you laugh, delirious and soft.

Pleasure blushes and surges beneath your skin. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You curse this time. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You bite off a groan. 

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

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

“Suguru—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Suguru,” you growl in frustration. 

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

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

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

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

You force yourself to freeze, still panting. 

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

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

You sneer at him and he takes his hand away. 

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

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

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

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

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

You desire. 

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

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

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

Your tears make him smile. 

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

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

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

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

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

And then, “look at me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Without thinking, you obey him. 

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

You cry out, clinging to him. 

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

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

Embarrassing. So horrible. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He presses his hand down just a little more and—

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

You sob. 

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

Suguru is there to catch you. 

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

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

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

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

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

Ice cold water pours on you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.” 

***

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

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

You feel infinitely closer to him. 

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

He indulges this behavior, encourages it, even. 

And on the eighth day, your Heat finally breaks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s like finally coming home. 

[helloiamadrawer]

𝐶𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠 ~𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 𝑉𝐸𝑅𝑆𝐼𝑂𝑁~

tw: fingering, use of a vibrator

he..kinda knew you've been a little anxious than usual lately so one day..

you were waiting for yet another adventure to end and once it did, you dashed to your room and look for your only outlet of stress..but it was gone. You were now silently panicking mumbling, "Oh no,no,no. What'd I do Caine? Was it because I didn't put all my effort into it? I promise I wi-"

"Looking for this my dear?"

You snapped your head around to the voice seeing no other than Caine holding your precious vibe, his fingers fidgeting with the ball-like tip. How the fuck did he get in your room? No, no time for questions, you wanted the relief now, the image of the set of dentures working his fingers inside of you actually sounds great too. After all, those hands did conjure up that toy..

"C-Caine, I need that, i've been really-" "overworked? I can see that. You usually would come and talk to me but im guessing it was for this contraption i conjured up for you." Caine explains still playing with the device. Not a surprise that he was this observant plus you thought that maybe he made it because he knew you liked him when you first entered the circus idk

caine's dual toned eyes scanned the room and since everyone has basically gone to their own quarters to do whatever, a discreet question popped into his head.

"Perhaps you would like me to be your stress reliever?" 👉👈 (he would do this as he asks the question) "Ah! Sh!t..yes." you winced as said question sent your face ablaze and an ache in your loins causing a sharp pain in between your legs. The ringleader approaches you as he puts the vibe down on your nightstand.

He scoops you up in his arms and in an instant pins you down to the mattress by your wrists as the ringleader gave you light literal love bites across your shoulders up to the nape of your neck, his hands slowly let go of your wrists as they languidly traveled down from your chest, shaping down your waist until they stop at the center of your thighs, rubbing your clit through your panties.

You couldn't lie though, Caine's hands are godly touching every crevice of your human form, and since he chose to be a tease, it's made you be a little more louder than usual. "Oh god Caine~please I-" you whine, your back arching from the stimulation. This was the perfect embellishment that Caine fantasized for a long time, it's like he's almost dreaming.

His free hand snaps as your vibrator appeared in his grasp as he replaces his hand with the vibe on the highest mode against your now sensitive nub, rubbing it in a circle, causing you to yelp at the sudden sensation. The pleasure was increasing by the minute and you were already praising his name for more but you couldn't make it out cause it felt so damn good.

"lovely sounds my dear~" the ringleader purrs, '' I've been hearing them ever since I gave you this..device..I would have stopped you but the name I heard you sing out one day--" "C-caine~..i'm gonna cum"

"Like that, yes. I must have made the right decision." his thumb turns off the vibe, you whine for the pleasure to come back until he discards your panties and quickly inserts two fingers into your wet,needy hole starting a fast thrusting pace. The intrusion was pure bliss as you threw your head back and rode out your orgasm on his hand, moaning your last string of curses.

Stress? Gone.

[blueberry-pride]

Referring to this~

OMG! I read the Q&A but IS IT TRUE? Im so excited 😳👉👈 Ummmm may i req then? Not for the event, but just a general req 😌 A scenario/hcs of Leona with fem!s/o where s/o needs comfort & gets spoiled cz she's having burnout due to all of the incidents on NRC~ I hope this is not too much, if u want to change the plot it's ok, thank u & have a nice day 😳✨

I See Right Through You...

Leona x FEM! S/O

warnings: leaning on to very angsty, cursing, personal issues

Berry: I'M FINALLY BACK AA-💀 just wrapped up some things and you should have some of the requests from the events roll around within the month or so 😣 I changed a bit of it but the overall theme is the same just something that hits a little too close to home ;=; Special Thanks to my lovely friends Len and Luna who helped me out with this one ❤️❤️

"This isn't me wanting some semblance of pity, You can keep it for all I care- I'm so goddamn tired but did I ever ask to be in Twisted Wonderland? Oh don't get me started..." "Did I ask to be Crowley's clean up crew? Did I ask to be in the middle of every. fucking. issue?"

"Sometimes I'd like to be the damsel-but sevens forbid the woman wanting to be saved from all the stupid stress of this world."

"Well I'm so sorry for complaining over a job I didn't ask for but hey- we're in a magical school full fun and dreams, cuz that's sure to make up for ALL the unnecessary emotional and physical labor!" Your voice cracked as you forced a cheery smile.

Leona wasn't expecting you to snap at him when he wanted to mess with you for just a little bit. He had observed you from afar for quite some time now. And most importantly, he wasn't a stranger to people putting up a face for other's sake.

His emerald gaze would glint over your figure as he studies the creases in your eyes from all the work you've been doing. He'd always wondered how much you could take, often times giving you snarky or witty advices in hopes to get you out of your doormat cycle.

He admitted what the Head-mage was doing is a bit too far. He was kinda impressed on how you pushed on with that fiery and stubborn heart of yours.

A sadistic part of him wanted to see when you'll break

He wanted to see you bite back

He anticipated it even more when multiple students come to you for help increased by the day;

You nodded along as Ace and Deuce were once again asking help in doing their chores back at Heartslabyul, you laughed it off as one of their usual antics.

You happily agreed when Kalim invited you to one of his many celebrations despite just finished with your cleanup at Ramshackle, your smile didn't reach you. Those glassy eyes of yours, shifting downwards to hide the reluctance.

It was an asshole move of him in all honesty.

Not lending out a helping a hand but he knew you were capable. For fuck's sake you got him AND his dorm to help you out during Azul's little "tantrum".

He wanted you to overcome this on your own. However, he had an oversight on how much you can take on the world alongside his bullshit attempt of support.

Leona had happened to pass by a class with the door wide open, his lions ears perked at the ongoing conversation.

"Phyn, you're in our group." One student spoke up. "Oh hell yeah, thanks dude!" Another cheered, followed by the sound of a high-five.

"-And I guess that's everyone.. Oh (Y/N)..hmm I guess you and Grim would be a duo, every other's group is already filled up." "Uh.." You chuckled with a loppy smile. "No worries, at least I get to stay in my dorm this time." The class chuckled at your comment and nodded along. As the groups filed out chatting amongst each other, he took lighter steps walking closely behind you.

It wasn't until you reached the entrance of Ramshackle is when you finally noticed him. Which led to the situation right now. "Why the long face herbivore, where's the can-do attitude I know and adore~?"

Your hands balled into fists, shaking as tears were running down your eyes.

"This isn't me wanting some semblance of pity, You can keep it for all I care- I'm so goddamn tired but did I ever ask to be in Twisted Wonderland? Oh don't get me started..." "Did I ask to be Crowley's clean up crew? Did I ask to be in the middle of every. fucking. issue?"

'Shit...' He said mentally.

"Let's...do this inside. We don't want anyone gawking at ya like this." He laid a hand behind your back inside and joined you not before he scanned the area for any curious on-lookers.

He leaned against the side of the wall of the living room, listening to your continued rant. Throwing hands and even had the strength to throw away the innocent coffee table in the middle, Its legs breaking into splinters as soon as it hit impact onto the cold hard floor. "-WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME WHO HAS TO FIX THINGS?" You exclaimed towards the pillow you threw towards the ground.

"Helping fix things is nice and all.." You sniffled. "But is it really so wrong to want that shit in return?"

He knew it was bad but he wanted to see how far you're flames would burn him. He wanted it to hurt-what you've been going through, he knows he can take it.

"You're ranting to the wrong person, go off on Crowley, yell at your classmates for ignoring ya. Tell that red-head and blue-haired friend of yours to fuck off and do their own stupid chores." "Be fucking selfish for once herbivore, Treat yourself to a nice nap-"

"-Oh what? like you? I'm not you Leona." You retorted back. "For fuck sakes you were born here-you were supposed to exist in this plane of existence while I got chucked out of mine." "You say I exist here but I'm one of the least wanted given my 'cheery' attitude. At the very least I know when to stand my guard." You huffed as you sat on the couch, tears still spilling from your eyes. "Is this your way of helping me? because I could clearly feel the love right now..." Leona let out a dry chuckle as he walked over to you. His imposing figure casts a shadow over you but as you gaze at his eyes, there was a lingering feeling of warmth. "Dont be like me." He shook his head. "Sevens, I hope you don't end up like me, but what I'm trying to say is..." His voiced trailed as he looked at your shaking form.

A memory sliced through him for a second. For a brief moment he saw his little self all those years ago in the visage of you. "In a campus full of these jackasses in NRC-including myself sometimes, I... I see right through you." He awkwardly patted your back. "I know it sucks but don't do that shit to yourself where you thought 'hey, I know who to look for if I'm in a room full of folks I adore, but who would look for me?'" Leona had a distant look as he stared at the broken table in the middle of the dorm. "Look for yourself first, look for that little corner of your room to be selfish with what you want to do. Worry about the details later." You cleared your throat as you steal a soft glance at him "You may not be the best and most unlikely to look for advice." The air seemed to change as the both of you share a soft laugh. "But you get right to the point...even though you could've done something much earlier." "What's the fun in that?" He raised an eyebrow. "Besides, You don't need a king's help in chess, a queen...has all the moves she needs."

Leona was surprised to hear your melodic laughter, belting out through your still falling tears at his small comment. "Oh my God Leona you did not just-" You wiped a tear as you smiled at him. He felt a flutter in his chest from the way you're looking at him now. "Well you did just say, I'm not the best." He smirked.

The tense feeling in his shoulder now dissipated as he settled himself on the couch strangely close to you, a tiny voice inside him wondered why. Seeing you smile even though you just murdered the poor coffee table not too long ago is a sign to him he did his job.

It's certainly weird but it's you. People may not look for you or choose you in a room full other characters from their lives, but you can trust that there's always a lion beastman just out in hallway, willing to stand with you through it all.

[mazeofyeni]

⭕. !!: ° ... FANTUBE : KEIKO AND WONBIN CUTE MOMENTS !! ‧ ₊˚

「 keiko's masterlist 𖹭 」

↺ |◁ II ▷| ♡ | INTRO. some cute wonko moments because they've been on one lately 🫠 ... LETS GO !

𓈃⠀⠀🎞️ ๋ ㅤCLIP ONE⠀⠀峠

"today i did my own hair and makeup today for the stage today" *:⁠-]* *a wild wonbin appears* "it looks like you did it." *confused keiko 🫤* "are you insulting me right now" *scared wonbin* "wait no that came out wrong." *not trying to die 😭* "then say it right quickly." "it looks cute , you look pretty." *smiley keiko🤭* "thank you." "why are you so scary." *so focused on her face* "yah why are you looking at me , am i that pretty?" *flirty bin activated* "yeah what about it?" *shocked ko* "y-yah" *his laugh knowing he got her flustered* "cute" *😭😭😭😭*

𓈃⠀⠀🎞️ ๋ ㅤCLIP TWO⠀⠀峠

*warning this one is a little 🔥* *wonbin and his wandering eye 👀* *behind the scenes of memories* "i have to jump into the lake, i have a bathing suit on under here , when it's time , i'll take this off , not right now." *time for the scene* *she only takes her top off* "ready?" *thumbs up* "let's go!" *while waiting for the go* *wonbin on the other side* *we see you wonbin you're not slick 🤭* *taro see's it to* *slaps the boy😭* "what are you look at?" *wonbin smirking, he knows what he was looking at 😭🤭* "nothing." *liar but okay 👍🏻*

𓈃⠀⠀🎞️ ๋ ㅤCLIP THREE⠀⠀峠

*wonbin trying to be mysterious* "binnie-ah!" *ignoring her , still trying to be mysterious* *confused keiko cause did she suddenly stop speaking korean* "binnie-ah!" *wonbin trying not to smile* "yah!" *slaps his back😭* "why are you ignoring me" *look at the way he's smiling* "i didn't hear you." *slaps his back again😭* "how dare you lie to me!" "ow , stop it" *full on play fighting in the middle of the dance practice room , like half the room isn't watching them 😟😭* "okay , okay stop it please" *wrapping his arms around her* *look how cute they are , we get it wonko🙄 /j* "what did you want?" *resting his chin on her shoulder* *he wanna be mysterious until she comes around* "i just wanted to call you" *bites her cheek😭* "ouch , do you want to die!?" *rip wonbin*

𓈃⠀⠀🎞️ ๋ ㅤCLIP FOUR⠀⠀峠

*behind the scenes of love 119* "i have to fake cry on camera" *she says with the evilest smile known to man kind😟* "why are you smiling?" *anton is afraid* "wonbinnie-hyung." *anton doesn't know who to call in these situations* *and he appears* "they need you for your scene" *cries like she supposed to , the scene that broke briize twt even though it's fake* "why does it look so real?" *wonbin is stressed* "it's not real" *taro confused as hell right now 😭* *after her scene* *wonbin in action* "why did you cry so much?" *wiping her tears 😭💔* "im not really sad don't worry" "you did well , but don't ever cry like that again" *why are they so cute in public like this 🫠🥹*

𓈃⠀⠀🎞️ ๋ ㅤCLIP FIVE⠀⠀峠

*wonko and there domestic dorm life 🫶🏻* *keikos nightly routine* "im eating ramen" *it's 1 in the morning* "it's quiet because everyone is sleep , i just got in from visiting japan , i went to see my grandma" *hears a noise* "who is it?" *look at that smile i'm sick😭* "binnie-ah!" "you're back?" *his sleepy voice 🫠* "say hi" *his messy bed hair🥲* "did you have fun in japan?" "i bought you a gift" *his smile , he is NOT mysterious ✋🏻❌* "it's a necklace it's in the suitcase , i'll give it to you in the morning." "thank you keikooo" *infamous wonko hug* "i missed you." *this is so 🥺*

OUTRO. wonko shippers have so much material to go off of , but i think another ship has them beat 🤫 , tune back in soon to find out who ....

©MAZEOFYENI

[lee1504]

*takes a deep breath*

*exhales*

if it’s not too much trouble can you write a ben x tyler fic where they’re just being soft and cute 🥺👉👈 (or ben is tending to tyler’s wound or something? idk im sorry for bothering you!!)

how dare you assume you're bothering me

The others were already asleep on the bed. They were curled up, huddled together, as if seeking each other’s warmth before midnight passed and they were brought back to reality, brought back to their own rooms.

Ben rinsed off his hands in the bathroom. The six of them were currently in Ben’s own room. He could see Aiden, Ashlyn, Taylor, and Logan were already asleep, but Tyler stayed awake, sitting on the edge of the bed. Ben couldn't blame him for wanting to watch his sister, just in case anything happened.

Ben turned off the water, drying his hands on the towel Alex had left there. The bracelet Taylor and Ashlyn had made for everyone glowed in the dim light. 

“Ben?” a voice croaked. 

Ben left the bathroom. Tyler was holding his side again. He only wore his undershirt, his black jacket tossed onto the floor. More red seeped through the fabric.

Ben rushed over to where Tyler sat. His hands shook.

“Sorry,” Tyler mumbled. His voice was raspy and dry from not speaking. He cleared his throat, swallowed, then said, “It’s bleeding again. I can't stop it…”

Ben quickly shook his head. He wanted to say that it was okay, that it was fine, that it wasn't Tyler's fault. He slowly lifted up his shirt. He was right.

Blood seeped through the wound on his side. His bandages were all soaked with red. Tyler's breaths were becoming labored again.

Ben looked up into Tyler's dark brown eyes. His own were gentle, calming. It's okay. You're going be okay, he thought. He quickly reached for the First Aid kit they'd picked up earlier, pulling on some gloves first.

I'm sorry, Ben thought. This is going to hurt.

Tyler let out a hiss, a strangled yelp, clenching onto Ben's hand as he cleaned the area around the wound with antiseptic wipes. Tyler squeezed his eyes shut, clutching harder onto Ben. 

“Sorry,” Tyler said again, voice strained. His eyes were still closed.

Ben shook his head once more. It's not your fault. He handed Tyler a cloth to bite on, pulling out a needle and thread.

Ben could see some tears appear underneath Tyler's lashes. He felt guilty. He knew this hurt him.

Another sound pained him. 

Tyler let out a short sob, before quickly closing his mouth. Ben hated how hurt Tyler was, but he couldn't say anything to comfort him.

The stitches were done. Ben quickly wrapped new bandages around Tyler's waist before gently pulling his shirt back down.

“I'm sorry,” Tyler sobbed for the third time.

Stop saying sorry. It's not your fault.

“I should've been careful earlier…I should've been holding onto something so I wouldn't fall out of the car…” Tyler's chest heaved.

Ben has never seen him cry before. Not really. Without thinking, Ben hurriedly took off his gloves, brushing Tyler's face softly, wiping away the tears.

“I hate this so much…” Tyler groaned. Their hands touched each other on the bed. “I'm so sorry for making you clean up after me…after my mess--”

Ben shook his head, motioning for Tyler to stop. He reached for his notebook.

It's not your fault, he wrote. You're okay.

Tyler said nothing. Those dark brown eyes were empty. Suddenly, his head dropped onto Ben's shoulder.

They didn't say anything.

+++++

Tyler was asleep. He either fell asleep from exhaustion or from stress, but Ben was glad he was sleeping all the same.

Carefully, he picked Tyler up, setting him down on the bed, near his sister. He probably wouldn't remember any of this in the morning.

Ben sat down on the bed, watching Tyler. His breaths were calmer now.

Slowly, he closed his eyes.

[bbyquokka]

Hiii 🫶🏼 last night during my delulu thoughts I thought of something:

Imagine changbin or chan having an argument with their s/o, and after, while they're not talking she gets hurt (nothing serious, like a small cut o a bump on the knee) and she screams and they come running and make up 🥹🥹🥹

oof, I'll see what I can do ‹3

ANGST + FLUFF BELOW CUT – MDNI

warnings: gn!reader, chan is an asshole at the beginning, mention of blood, pet name (pup)

“Fuck, y/n! You're so–”

“So what Chan? Mhm?!” You challenge, eyebrow raised.

“I don't know! Okay, you're just annoying the shit out off me today y/n. I'm so busy with work and all you want is attention this and attention that! Don't you understand that I need to get this done?! Don't you realise the importance of this? Of course you don't because you're just a normal person, nothing special!”

His words stabbed you in the heart. A look of horror on his face as he realises what he just said. His words came out like vomit, unable to stop them from escaping. The colour drains from his face, your shoulders slump.

All you wanted was five minutes, five minutes to spend with your partner before he was off doing whatever he had to do.

Your anger resides, a burning lump in your throat forming as hot tears fill your eyes. your vision blurry, Chan leaping up from his seat to comfort you.

you take a step back, Chan's arms falling limp by his side as his eyebrows furrow together, his own eyes filling with tears as he watches yours fall slowly down your cheeks.

“y/n, i–”

“sorry I'm not special enough for you, Christopher.” you spit, voice monotone. you hastily wipe away your tears, walking to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Chan winces at your words, watching you walk out.

he sits back in his seat, slouching as he rubs his face with his hands.

“how are you going to fix this chan.” he mumbles to himself.

you wash your hands in the kitchen sink, grabbing the ingredients for tonight's dinner. you curse and mumble under your breath, calling Chan every name you could think of whilst blinking back your tears.

“fucking asshole. who does he think he is.” you grumble to yourself, jaw clenching, “all I wanted was some of your precious time, was that too hard for you?!”

so deep in thought and anger, you became unaware of where your hand placement was whilst chopping. next think you know, you feel a sharp stinging sensation, the feeling of your finger bleeding.

you let out a scream, holding your finger as you hiss in pain. Chan hears you, his blood running cold as he dashes to the kitchen.

“y/n!!! are you okay?! what happened?!” he's out off breath, voice laced with concern. you let out a sob, holding your injured hand close to your chest.

“chan.. it hurts.” you whisper. Chan walks to you, his face softening. your finger is stinging and burning, blood seeping from the cut.

“its okay darling, im here. put your finger under some water and I'll get the first aid. can you do that for me, pup?” you nod slowly, pouting.

Chan kisses your forehead before getting the first aid kit. whilst he does that, you put your finger under some water, whimpering and hissing as the unbearable stinging sensation.

moments later, Chan returns. he takes your finger gently, inspecting the wound. he grabs an alcoholic wipe, gently wiping at the cut before inspecting it again.

“its a deep cut, but not deep enough for stitches.” he mumbles to himself. you bite your lip gently. “what are you like?” Chan says with a chuckle, grabbing a bandage to wrap around your wound.

“did you mean it...” you whisper, deciding now was best to talk about what happened. Chan let's out a soft sigh, shaking his head.

“no, I didn't and im so sorry pup. I've been so stressed lately and I know it's not an excuse but the words just.. flew out.”

“do you think I'm not... special?” Chan finishes wrapping your bandage, kissing your finger gently

“your the most special person in my life right now. I adore and love you so so much, pup. I don't ever want to lose you. again, I'm so terribly sorry.” you look up at chan, his eyes filling with tears. “will you forgive your stupid boyfriend?”

he pouts, a few tears rolling down his cheek. you laugh softly, reaching up and wiping away his tears.

“of course I will, chan.”

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[oxpogues4lifexo]

Keeping up with the Camerons

TumblrTV

Keeping up with the Camerons

Episode 3 - Life Inside The Bubble Wrap - Part 3

Episode transcript (/ means cut scene, bold italics means narrator, bold means host)

Word Count: 4K

Part 2 Here

The brunette sighs, pushing open the front door to her home as her shoulders fall. Taking a deep breath, she shuts the door quietly, walking through the dark room; trying her hardest to avoid her brother’s sight that was focused on the loud tv which played the movie ‘Baywatch’. Him and his friends drooling over the poor girls’ bodies.

She reaches for her bedroom door, “Where did you go?” Her brother’s voice cuts the tension condescendingly his eyes not leaving the screen.

Bella bites her lip, stepping backwards as she turns slowly, gripping her keys to her palm tightly. “Out.”

“You weren’t at work today.”

“Uhm.. mhm.” She nods fearfully, not knowing how he got that information and not being brave enough to ask and find out.

“Why? What was more important?” He spreads his legs, resting his arms on the back of the couch as he finishes off his can of beer before chucking it to the floor for Bella to clean up later.

The boys all kept their eyes on the tv because any movement from them would make the situation worse. Except for Topper who took a glance at Bella. His brow dipping when he notices her lip wobbling; her knowing that even if she told the truth, Callum wouldn’t believe her. “Um.. I-”

“She was with me and Sarah!” Topper spills quickly, snatching everyone’s attention instantly. Bella shakes her head at him but it was too late.

“Is that right?” Callum’s attention finally shifts, turning back to face Bella as he raises his brows.

“Yeah she-“

“I didn’t ask you.” He spits at Topper, eyes not taking away from Bella.

“Bella tell me the truth. Im just making sure you weren’t putting yourself in danger or anything.” She smiles, relaxing slowly at his words. Feeling more comfortable now he’s being caring again. “Wanna make sure no Pogues were talking to you today.” He reassures, but little did he know it did the exact opposite.

Her heart rate picks up as her breathing deepens, her inhales becoming longer and harder to do. She takes the biggest breath she could, nodding to herself as a form of comfort. “I.. I was taking a walk around the island. Just wanted to clear my head. I’m sorry I didn’t go into work today I just felt that if I did I wouldn’t have gotten anything done.” It wasn’t a complete lie, she did go round the island for a few hours.

“Your anxiety playing up again?” The concern in his voice warming her slightly, making her feel less stressed in the current situation.

“Yeah..” She agrees embarrassedly, keeping her eyes anywhere but on the others as it’s not something she brings up to people.

He nods, his thumb running along his nose, “So how was your chat with John B?”

The boys look up at her, her eyes widen as her fists clasp together tightly, “W- what?” She laughs nervously, trying to push it off.

He scoffs standing up which earns him Rafes attention. His eyes shooting up to him as he grips tightly to the back of the couch, ready to jump in if necessary. “You think I wouldn’t find out?” Callum tilts his head, his eyes dark as he steps closer to Bella, sucking in a breath as she struggles to find her tongue.

“I.. I-“

“Cmon Bells, you can’t keep nothing from me princess.” He grazes her cheek, a sweet but venomous smile stuck on his face like a mask, “He causing trouble?” He frowns, his voice that sarcastic caring tone that she despises.

“No..” She grumbles, frowning as if his question was obvious.

“What you talk about?” Callum watches her eyes that were glued to his, her fear pulling a smile onto his disgusting angelic face.

“Nothing..” Her eyes glistened, lashes batting to push away the evident tears. Not realising her holding her own breath, she releases.

His brows raise, eyes lightening as he chuckles deeply, “So you sat together in silence? Sounds fun.” He gives her a smile, a smile she would never believe but anyone else would.

She ignores his snarky remarks, her eyes shutting as she fakes a yawn, “Can I go to bed?”

His hands find her shoulders, gripping her skin so hard his nails were leaving indents, “Why’d you not stay?”

She frowns, shrugging the best she could under his grip, “Because why would I?”

He lets go, shrugging, realising she meant the words she said, “Just wondering.” He smiles genuinely, “Glad you’re here.” He taps her hand, forgetting everything that just happened.

She rolls her eyes, pulling away as she turns back around to head off to her room. Callum sits himself back on the couch, helping himself to another can as the little release of air fills the silence.

“Bella?” Her name cuts through the room, the blonde boy innocently calling for her knowing he shouldn’t but couldn’t help himself.

“Mhm..” She sucks in a breath, her head facing the boy again as she rubs her eyes, not to push away her tiredness but to hide the tear that had formed in the corner.

He smiled guiltily, “Sarah find you?” Keeping his sentences short to push the conversation on quickly.

It took a minute for Bella to comprehend, not knowing exactly how much her brother and the others knew about her day, “Huh?”

He frowns, “Sarah! She said she was gonna call you or something.”

She bites her cheek, quickly nodding, “Oh! Um yeah. She uh.. she..” Bella struggled to find a way to word their conversation, taking far too long.

Toppers brows furrow, his worry for her only growing as she stopped mid-sentence. “You okay?”

Her eye’s quickly refocus, darting to his, “Mhm yeah sorry. She just spoke to me actually.”

Rafe’s eyebrows raise, a smirk tugging at his lip, “Did you not just come from John B’s?”

“Yeah so?” Bella spits, eyes glassing over again at her best friend’s need to bring her down all of a sudden as if she was the problem.

Toppers eyes widen at the realisation of Rafe’s words, standing up suddenly as he shoots Bella a glare, “Is Sarah with that freak again??”

She panics, “What?? No! I-” She cant lie to save her life meaning the boys all saw right through, realising exactly what’s going on. They all remove themselves from the couch.

“Oh that shitty little fucker!” Callum snapped, reaching for the door and leaving, letting it slam loudly behind him with a bang which caused Bella to shriek.

“Callum don’t!!” She cries, tears streaming down her face as she runs to the door, pulling it open and watching her brother pull on his helmet.

Topper shoves past her, followed by Kelce. Her cheeks soggy and eyes puffy; the realisation finally sinking in of what she’s just done to all her friendships in this one moment.

She takes a deep breath, her fingers coming up to her mouth as she started nibbling at her finger nails.

Rafe came up behind her, placing his hand against her shoulder, causing her to again, flinch before calming as she sees it was only him. “Please get off me..” she pushes his hand off herself, walking past him back to her room.

“Can we please just talk?” Rafe pleads, eyes welling as he reaches for her again.

She stops, looking back at him with a dip in her brow, “No, I don’t want to talk to you!” She forces, her tone matter-of-factly. Her words cause Rafe to choke, “Rafe you just sat there and watched him speak to me like that. You always do! It’s like you don’t care anymore Rafe. Like being friends with me is a chore that you’d rather never do!” She explains, brows furrowed as another tear falls from her hazel eyes, meeting his with no emotion but pure distrust as she inhales sharply, “I’m giving you space.. can you not just appreciate that?” She asks softer now, knowing shouting at Rafe is going to get her nowhere, and she’d never want to purposefully raise her voice at him anyways.

“Rafe!!! We’re going come on man!!!” One of the boys shouts through the door, the two of them both glancing back.

He doesn’t budge, looking down at Bella with his watery blues, waiting for maybe something more from her. Hoping she’d finally crack and come back to him. She sighs, stepping closer before running outside and joining Topper beside his bike.

“I’m so sorry..” She mutters, gripping onto his shirt, breathing deeply again to stop herself from falling apart.

“Hey don’t be okay..? Just glad you’re okay..” He smiles, reassuring her as he pats her hand that rest against his chest.

She stares at him a little longer, mouth agape as if she were going to speak, “You okay?”

She nods, closing her mouth before opening it again, patting down his shirt that she only just scrunched up, “Just.. please don’t mention me! I mean I can’t- I-“

“Hey sh shh..” He takes ahold of her hands, pulling them up to his chest to hold them tighter, “It’s fine alright. I’m just gonna speak to Sarah. I don’t need to bring you into it all yeah? But then you’re gonna tell me what’s going on with you okay..?” He whispers, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers, placing a gentle kiss to her fists.

She smiles at his soft touch, her cheeks blushing without noticing, as she nods, “Okay..” He pulls her head into him to place another kiss to her skin before pulling on his helmet.

She goes back inside before pausing at the entrance. Looking right into the camera she snarls, “You’ve put cameras here too??” She looks around, eyes meeting every lens in the room, “When..??” She scowls, her brows knitting together through frustration before turning back around on her heel and heading for the door.

She jogs down to Topper and quickly hooks her leg over his bike, hands sat ontop his shoulders.

“Bells you sure?” He shouts through his helmet and she signals a thumbs up as she wraps her arms under his shoulders tightly.

Rafe watched a moment, frowning and shoving his tongue to his cheek. She always rides on my bike.. refuses to ride on anyone else’s, I’m the only one she trusts to ride with. So this was a stab right in his heart. He shoves his helmet on, waiting for Callum’s signal before they all road off down to the Cut. It wasn’t the longest ride as Bella and Callum already live on the edge of Figure Eight.

//

“Wheres your boyfriend?” John B grumbles, crossing his arms as he watches her eyes dip.

“I don’t know.” She frowns, “Does it matter? I’m thinking of breaking up with him!”

John B smirks, forgetting to respond as his eyes widen, just focusing on her features with a slight a blush to his skin.

She giggles, “Is that.. is that okay?” She smiles, running her hands over her thighs nervously.

“Uh yeah yeah of course! I mean.. if you did, you know, break up. What would that.. what would that-“

“Mean for us?” She interrupts softly, her cheeks reddening.

“Yeah..” He nods slowly, watching her lips curl into a smile.

“Well-“ “Sarah!!!!” A deep gravelly voice pierces through the air, singing almost, her eyes widening immediately.

“My brother..” She jumps off the hammock whilst John B tries to ‘act cool’, resting his head against his hands and whistling softly.

Rafe, Callum, Kelce and Topper all rode in to the yard. Sarah’s eyes not shifting from her brother as he climbs off his bike. John B turns to watch before his eyes catch onto something. “Bella??” His brows furrow as he pulls himself off the hammock, “What the hell are you doing?”

“I..”

“This isn’t about her, asshole. This is about you and your little friend!” Callum spits, pointing at the two of them.

Topper steps forward, pushing Callum back gently, “Sarah you said-“

“I know what I said Topper! And I’m sorry but.. we’re over.” She states softly, going to reach for his hand but he pulls away.

“That Pogue’s corrupting your mind Sar! He ain’t good for you. Just come home and we can sleep it off yeah?”

“No Topper! I mean it-“

“Sarah this is not happening!” Rafe walks over his eyes shooting to the younger boy, “What the fuck did I say about her and Bella huh? You don’t get it do you?? You need to be shown I’m serious huh?? You need me to teach you a lesson yeah?”

“Rafe don’t..” Sarah spits.

He ignores her, stepping closer and John B chuckles, preparing his fists.

“Rafe!!”

The small voice froze him, hitting himself in the head as he turns around to be met with the shorter girl. “Don’t do it.. please.”

“Yeah well I told you not to leave me and, Oh! People don’t listen do they sweetheart.” He laughs, stroking her chin.

“Bella I trusted you.” John B whines, the words alone causing Bella to wince. Her eyes immediately begin to pool as she looks up at him. “John B I-“

“Wait this was you?” Sarah comes over, her eyes darkened at the girl, her voice full of frustration.

“No I- well-“

“I thought you knew not to speak about this. You promised!”

“I know!!!” She cries, struggling for air as her eyes dart between the two, “Look I’m sorry!! I.. I don’t understand what you want me to do!”

“How about don’t get involved?” John B suggests hatefully, his eyes looking down on her with pure betrayal causing her heart to ache.

“I didn’t! I’m the one who told you not to do it!”

“But didn’t you get all smitten like a minute later and tell me to go for it if I could?”

She moans, biting her lip as she struggles to find her breath, tears streaming down her cheeks yet again.

“What??” Topper grabs ahold of her arm, pulling her attention to him as his brows furrow.

She holds her chest, “No!! I.. I never said that! I- I was trying to do the right thing okay??” She pulls away from Toppers grip, stepping back slightly as her being surrounded by bodies was making this feeling worse.

“Yeah well you failed didn’t you!”

Sarah frowns, grabbing John B’s hand, “John B stop..??” She tries to calm the situation, somehow being the only one to notice Bella’s struggle. Or being the only one to care for that matter.

Everyone’s eyes lock onto Bella, all shouting and screaming at her as her mind becomes a fog. She raises her hands to her ears to block out the overwhelming noise as her eyes squeeze shut in pain. All the voices mixed into one pool of words in her head, unable to make out who was who in her current state.

“We can’t trust you!!”

“You promised!!!”

“Bella who even are you?”

“I thought we were friends??”

It only gets louder, her hands now useless to blocking the noise; she rips her hands from her ears, throwing a look to everyone around her, their eyes all watching her which causes a lump to form at the back of her throat. “Okay!!! Okay, I get it okay?? I fucked up!!!” She whines through a croaky wobbly mess of a voice, “But I don’t- I.. what am I supposed to do?? Your all my-“

“Pick a side.” Her brother interjects plainly, his brows raising at his suggestion.

Bella frowns, scoffing at his words as she clears her throat, “What??”

Rafe watches her a moment, watching the way her eyes sparkled in the moonlight as a tear let its way down to her chin. He huffed, going over to Callum and grabbing ahold of his shirt, trying his damn hardest to reason with him, knowing his best friend would never pick in a million years.

Callum shoves Rafe off him, stepping closer to his sister as he plasters on a smile, the same smile from earlier, “I said. Pick. A. Side. It’s either us.” He points at himself, in a condescending manner. “Or them!” His fingers follows to the couple beside the trees, his eyes not shifting from his sister’s puffy ones. “It’s one or the other I’m afraid, you’re not a little princess who gets to have everything she wants.” He spits, standing over her with his hands shoved into his pockets. A grin forming along his face, enjoying every moment of this situation he’s created.

“Wait Callum??” John B finally realised the severity of the situation, feeling his heart hurt for her now he knows what’s really happening. To Callum it was never about him and Sarah. It was about Bella. It’s always about Bella. At this point John B didn’t care for the argument, all he wanted was Sarah.

Bella’s eyes search the area for comfort, or someone to reason with him or anything. Everyone staring at her blankly gave her the answer she needed as she bats her lashes and sucks in a deep breath. “I don’t care..” She starts, her voice deep and stern, eyes piercing through Callum’s, actually causing a slight sweat on his forehead, “..what side I’m on, as long as. You’re not on it!!” She spits in his face, shoving past him and going down the path to go home. Her facade quickly slipping away as her lips tremble, eyes squinting through tears.

Callum’s face tenses, fists scrunching as he chuckles, “Oh you fucking-“ Rafe steps in the way quickly, shoving him back slightly with a push on his chest. Kelce grabs ahold of his waist, holding him back from being able to move. All the boys knowing exactly what could happen if they let go. “YOU BITCH!!!” He screams, “I’m trying to protect you why don’t you fucking understand!!!!” He screeches through the dark yard, trying his best to wriggle free from the boys’ grips. Rafe turns his head to see Bella, heart physically hurting for her as he watches her struggle to find her breath, wiping her tears and walking away without anyone to help. He shoves his fingers into his eyes to hold back the tears.

Topper doesn’t even hesitate to run after her, pulling her in to his chest even despite her fight to push him away. He holds her tightly, stroking her head as he places multiple kisses to her temple, hushing her as she let go against his chest.

Everyone stood back and watched the situation die down as Topper slides his hand into Bella’s, taking her home and leaving his bike unattended.

/

“Why don’t you go talk to her? You just stood there and watched her cry! You never do that!!” Kelce states, all the boys sat around the living room, drinking in the dark whilst they review what just happened.

Kelce sat on the couch beside Rafe who had his legs splayed out and head against the arm rest, beer in his hand that hung off the edge of the seat. “Shut up..” He mumbles, shutting his eyes as his free hand squeezes the bridge of his nose.

Topper frowns, sitting up as he crosses his legs on the cushion under him, “No Rafe he’s right! We left her be because we thought you’d go and comfort her. Has she done something to you?”

His words cause Rafe to curse under his breath, sighing as he leans his head further back, dropping his hand to his lap, “No course not, she’s an angel..”

Kelce and Topper exchange a look, “Then what’s the problem??” Kelce argues, neither of the boys understanding why he’s being like this when his best friend needs him most.

He contradicts their thought, “She don’t need me anymore..” He gravels, swallowing down his beer in one to cover the obvious thoughts that he’s lying; not wanting to own up to the multiple mistakes he’s piling up.

“The biggest pile of bullshit Rafe!!!” Topper exclaims, reading straight through his lies (as would anyone if they knew Bella and Rafe) “She needs you more than you’ll ever know!! You’re just being a dick to her right now..” He sighs, running a finger along the rim of his bottle.

Kelce nods along, his eyes on Rafe as he raises a brow, “For no reason, may we say.” Him and Topper laugh at Rafe’s groan of a response.

He winces at their reaction, lifting his head as he furrows his brows, “For fucks sakes look I know her better than either of you ever will okay?-”

“Bullshit but okay..” Kelce laughs to Topper, rolling his eyes as he finishes off his beer.

He looks back at Rafe to see his eyes glued on him, “What was that?” He squints through the darkness, biting his cheek.

“N- nothing!” He chokes, burying his face in a slice of pizza.

Rafe sighs, resting back on the arm of the couch, his hand finding the back of his head as he fiddles with a strand of his hair, “I know when she’s done with me..” He sulks, earning him a groan and an eye roll from both his friends.

“Jesus stop projecting!!!” Sarah steps into the room, swinging her arms about at his stupid words. “You fucked up Rafe! And you hate yourself for it!! It’s so obvious, it hurts!!” She whines, causing Rafe to grunt in response to her ‘accusations’. “Go talk to her!” She rests her hands on the back of the couch beside his body, walking into the shot of the camera.

His brows dip into his eyes, throwing an arm over them, “Fuck off Sarah.. you literally cheated on my best friend. Why should I-“

“He did it first??” She utters, offence gleaming off her face as she frowns.

Rafe’s eyes shoot from her to his friend, sitting up quickly and furrowing his eyebrows, “What??” He watches Topper, his eyes widening as he avoids eye contact with the both of them.

“Mhm..” Sarah crosses her arms, a proud smile coating her face, “My friend Layla told me yesterday they hooked up- well my ex-friend. She said it’s because I was ‘taking too long’. So..” She shrugs, “I thought we were done!” She didn’t seem too bothered for someone who just found out their partner cheated on them.

Rafe’s expression contorts, “What the fuck bro??” He expresses, “You cheating on my sister for??”

Sarah watches in shock, a small smile tugging at her lip. “Bro I’ve never spoken to Layla before?? She’s lying Sar!!”

She crosses her arms over her chest, brows raising as she tilts her head slightly, “Prove it.”

“I-“

“I wanna go back to this Bella thing! You two clearly don’t care enough about this, just break up and move on!” Kelce sighs, slumping into the couch cushions as he drinks his beer.

Rafe grumbles, lifting himself from the couch as he runs his fingers through his bangs, “Nah I’m going to bed!”

The remaining three giggle to one another; Sarah joining Topper on the one seater despite the previous tensions.

Kelce groans as he watches them snuggle into one another as if nothing ever happened, shaking his head before grabbing another bottle and a slice of pizza.

//

“Life doesn’t stop when the cameras are on. And I’m sorry for any inconvenience I’ve made but I’m not putting my problems on hold just because you’re filming. If anything you should be putting on hold for me. But it’s reality tv. So neither of that happens and you unfortunately get to see it all.” Bella shrugs, forcing a smile through her glassy eyes.

/

Thank you Bella for that little nugget to end the episode with. Sorry we didn’t get much of a chance to pull anyone aside this episode, it was a drama-packed day. But maybe on the next one!

Thank you for watching and we’ll see you again soon to join Rafe and the others, let’s see if he can resolve this before the end of the episode shall we.

Next Episode Here

Short Episodes in Blue

Full Episodes in Pink

Short Masterlist

Full Masterlist

[midasinc]

enjolras & marius?

yeahhHHHHHHHHHHH !!!!!!!!!

enjolras:

-he has a really bad fingernail biting problem. they've been reduced down to stubs and he chews at his cuticles too. it's a mixture of stress and a habit he had as a kid that his parents never really noticed to correct. he's been doing it for 25 years, so it feels impossible for him to stop

-he also has hella cowlicks. im projecting bc i do too but it's so difficult for him to find a hairstyle that works because there's always a piece jutting out of place. in canon era he normally just tries to hide this with a hat and in modern era this man does not give a fuck at all. dude has the most insane hair just because he lets it stick up in its natural positions

-modern era enjolras is a pickles/olives friend. he loves briney stuff and picks them off of combeferre and courfeyrac's foods when they dont want them. he relishes in snacks like that and pickles his own stuff. it's a new hobby he just picked up and now his fridge is full of various pickled things

-he's a sagittarius sun, leo moon, taurus rising (just for funsies)

-enjolras's closet is full of muted colors. he wears very bland clothing but people don't tend to notice because they're focused on him himself. it drives some of his fashion-focused friends up the fuckin wall because they'll hear someone go "he's just so wonderfully attractive- that waistcoat looked so good" and whatever bullshit and they wanna scream because it's the most boring piece of clothing in reality

marius:

-idk how many times i need to push this onto my mariuses, but he loves miniatures. whether that be making little ships in canon era or planes in modern era, this guy loves miniatures. he also likes to unwind by watching videos of people making miniature scaled rooms. it's something he wants to get into, on top of the planes and such. something in his brain is such sooooooo scratched by tiny versions of big things

-he has a large birthmark on the back of his shoulder. honestly he forgets it's there until he's shirtless and someone is like "woah dude" just out of surprise. cosette likes tracing the shape of it when she can't sleep and just wants to relax

-modern era marius smokes weed for the first time with courfeyrac and enjolras when he's like 23. he's been raised with this very negative view of weed in general bc he's been scared into thinking it's like fucking meth. anyway this dude takes maybe 2 good hits off a pipe and is outrageously high (it happens). dude just ends up on the floor watching cooking videos for like two hours before falling asleep there. he doesn't smoke much after that

-he also has hyperactive sweat gland disorder. in canon era he struggles a lot with sweat stains because some days it goes through several layers and is visible. he likes to wear a lot of dark clothing because it's less noticeable on those days

-canon era marius tries sketching out his friends faces after everything. he tries really hard to remember and get it down so he never forgets. when he's unable to draw particularly well or cant get a feature right, it kinda breaks him. he just wants to get what courfeyrac looked like down on paper, but he's just not that artistically skilled to do it. it gets worse when he starts forgetting what his features were. there are a lot of stress-induced breakdowns with marius surrounded by crumpled sheets of paper and smudged charcoal on his hands

[octentaya]

Remade this meme since Aya and Tomura has had massive development!

This is just my interpretation of Tomura as a character, specifically for my story with him. Im fully okay if people dont agree with my interpretation of him, but i still would like to share my headcanons💕 This is my comfort idea of Tomura Shigaraki in a relationship.

I made Tomura taller becaaause, im 177cm and his canon height is 175cm and I’ve always imagined him a bit taller than me. Feels weird him being shorter than me lol. Only made them 5 years older for the sake of plot convenience involving their daughter.

I like to think Tomura doesnt care about gender or sexuality labels. He wears what he wants and people can call him whatever they like, cuz he just doesnt care. He doesnt care what other peoples genders are either sexually, he doesnt find anyone sexually attracted until he has fallen in love with them. And he hates most things and people in the world. So it takes a very long time for him to even open up to someone.

His awkwardness level would be higher in the beginning, since i see him being socially awkward in general, but with experience he will get more confident in a relationship. I am definitely projecting my neurodivergency onto him as well, since i have ADHD, imagining him with it as well makes me happy. Having issues sitting still, fidgeting when restless, stimming when stress or overwhelmed (like scratching his neck). Having hyper fixations with video games and such.

While he comes off as scary to most people, behind close doors with his lover he is very affectionate, romantic and even vulnerable at times.

Both of their jealousy levels would be higher if they had a reason to be jealous. But the two of them are very loyal to each other, and they haven’t really had anyone try to flirt or take them away from each other.

The two started off rough, but once they opened up to each other they realized how similar they were in many ways. Their relationship is very balanced regarding roles, taking turns being the dom and the sub. Since im a dom irl, and Tomura is the only id feel comfortable being a sub for, i like the idea of them both being switches and taking turn.

I project a lot of myself onto him. Its funny, we both have a beauty mark on the right side of our faces, mine on my lip and his on his chin. I even have a small scar on my lip although it’s subtle. Im a grooming victim which he is as well, although mine was sexual and his was not. And of course, i see neurodivergency in him as well, due to him scratching his neck when he is stressed which to me could be taken as stimming. I bite my finger nails when im stressed, cuz my stress sits in my teeth, it almost feels like my teeth itch when im stressed. Him being a video game nerd, talking about strategies as if it was in a video game, think it be so cute if he was ever asked about his favorite game he would just sit and ramble about it for hours.

This is my silly lil ship and relationship headcanons for my silly lil comfort gremlin man haha. Feel free to share your own headcanons, i love all versions of him and love to read about what others think of him. I have my own made up little fantasy about him, but im very interested in what others fantasize about too👁

Might add more to this post eventually but for now, have these small notes in the meantime!

[chaeyoungeeee]

why is love so hard?

summary- you and taehyung have once again gotten into an argument this time a way bigger one. can you guys make it right once again or will it end?

rating- 18+ 🤭

warning!!- slight angst, overworking, eventual smut, crying, shouting, hickeys, face fucking, deep throating, cum swallowing, dom tae, sub y/n dynamics, swearing, breast play.

pairings- boyfriend tae, girlfriend y/n

taehyung had a so much work he had to do so he told you strictly to stay outside of his office room. you honestly missed him so much. its been 7 hours and you havent had a kiss from him yet. you rose from your seat at the dining table and made your way upstairs to his office. you were contemplating if you should knock or just walk in. knocking would distract him too much so you simply just walk in to see him working on his laptop. his eyes remain on his laptop. he seemed to not even be aware of your presence. you slowly walk over to him. “babe…? i miss you.” you put your hand on his shoulder. still, he was ignoring you. you scoff. “i made lunch. you should come down and eat it.” you say, desperate to just hear his voice but it seemed he was to busy on his laptop. “baby.. answer me. please..?” you see his jaw lock. he was obviously tense. “how is work goin-“ he keeps his eyes on the laptop but speaks. “y/n, stop fucking distracting me. i told you to stay out off this room but you still come? do you ever listen??” he keeps typing away on his laptop. it was clear to you he he wasnt missing you at all. “i was just missing you, tae. no need to swear.” you furrow your eyebrows feeling an argument rise up. taehyung is always so serious about his work. if hes interrupted he wont hesitate to get mad. “do you think i was missing you? get out, y/n.” you heard him sigh and now thats definitely ticked you off. you was only trying to help. “what the fuck? why are you being such an ass hole today??” you near spit. he only scoffs as a result. “y/n i just fucking said get out, why are you not listening to me, huh?” you dry scoff and cross your arms just under your breasts. “i just wanted to say come downstairs to eat something. why are you being so rude?” he puts the tip of his fingers to his nose bridge and shakes his head. “listen, i need to focus on my work. i need you to get out, ok?” you sigh at the tone hes using, a much softer one then before. “i know, ok? i made your favourite lunch.. can you just come down and eat? you only had coffee today..” he groans in annoyance. “fuck off, y/n!” he raises his voice, something he never normally does. “i told you so many times, dont disturb me, im busy with work! and you do it anyways, why cant you ever listen, huh?! just get out, y/n i dont need you to keep fucking telling me i need to eat, i know.” he raises his voice causing you to cower. he kept his eyes on his screen. you swallow back your feelings. “i-“ you were about to talk but get cut off by him. “i said fucking get out!” he shouts and you walk out. you run to your shared room. its not like he would want to sleep with you. you get into bed and start crying. he knows you hate when people shout at you. you feel unwanted. your own boyfriend said it himself. he didnt miss you. you finally go sleep around 7:32 pm. tears stain your cheeks and your eyes near swollen. you fell asleep in your clothes ; a cute grey crop top with a tight leather skirt. taehyung loved this skirt on you. the blanket covers your face as you sleep.

around 11:46 pm you were woken to the sound of the bedroom door open. you choose to ignore it until you feel the side of the bed dip, meaning someone is sitting there. you choose to ignore it and turn the other way. taehyung sighs. he was so stressed with work. nothing was going his way today. he.. took it out on you. he felt so guilty. “baby..?” he calls out to you. his voice tired and full of guilt. you bite down on your lip, feeling tears prick your eyes again for some reason. “baby.. please.. im so sorry..”you hear a rustling sound like some plastic. you rise up from the bed, your face tear stained youd say you look horrible but taehyung would argue otherwise. “im sorry, y/n. i was so stressed because today work was just.. not going right and i was just angry at everyone. im really sorry if i said something that upset you. i promise i wont do it again. i swear..” he shoves the flowers he brought for you closer to you. peonies. you cant help but upside down smile. “its.. ok.” you say, tone clearly broken. “y/n.. im sorry i made you cry.” he shuffled closer to you and wraps his arms around you, caging you. you take in his cologne and his body wash. instantly calming you. “its ok, tae. i promise. i understand if you think work is more important than me..” your voice broke in between, hating to accept that reality. he sighs heavily. “jagiya. dont say that.. you mean the world to me. you are my world. please dont think work is more important than you. you know how i get when i have a lot of work to do.” he kisses your four head meaningfully. you look up at him “really..?” you say. “of course. you mean so much to me.. im just so stupid for treating you like shit sometimes.” you look up at him once again, his eyes full of guilt. you connect your lips for a slow meaningful kiss. you slowly pull away and admire taehyung as he does the same for you. “i love you.” he says softly, meaning it from the bottom of his heart. “i love you to..” he looked so cute at that moment. he smiled at you before looking away;

“youre so cute, tae. oh my goddd-!” you cover your mouth and try not to squeal. he laughs through his nose and kisses you all over your face, stopping at your lips as he placed a slow meaningful kiss. you kissed him back, tugging his shirt to come closer to you. he does, suddenly just inches away from your body “i love this on you..” you smile and bite your lip. “i know, thats why i wore it. stupid. thoughhh.. i do need to change out of it.” you smirk at him and he licks his lips. “can i help with that?” you grab his hand and put it up your skirt on your thigh. “of course.” and with that he rips your skirt off. he teasingly fans your thighs with his hot breath. you bite your lip. “you said you was stressed with work, huh?” he sighs, hated he was reminded about it. he was about to forget about it. “uh.. yeah?” he asks, confused. “well how about.. i help you forget about it, hmm..?” you speak as you slowly bend down in front of him, getting down on your knees. “use my mouth, tae. im all yours..” something ignites in him and he unzips his trousers allowing his dick to spring to life. you slowly palm his cock for a few seconds before diving in. your tongue engulfing one side of his cock as you hollow your cheeks out. one hand on his thigh whilst the other hand on the bed. you lower your head as you suck at his large cock. you could feel his dick at the back of your throat, near swallowing his length. after a few minutes off you slowly bopping your mouth on his dick he grabs hold of your hair. he stands up, leaving you looking up at him, confused. he starts to thrust his dick into your mouth, causing you to gag. tears start to pool in your eyes as he continuously thrusts into your little mouth. the room filled with the angelic moans taehyung straggles out. you look up at him to see his head fall back. his thrust game was fast, causing you to whimper, feeling your throat sting. you could taste precum on your tongue. “fuck baby, you take me so well.. im gonna cum.” you breathe out your nose heavily until you feel his hot, sticky cum fill your mouth. he thrusts softly into your mouth whilst he cums. he pulls his cock out and watches you swallow all his cum. “youre such a good girl.. can you get on the bed again?” you smile at his comment before nodding. you walk to the bed, laying down for him. your skirt is already off. he goes in between your legs as he lifts your crop top up, revealing your braless boobs. he begins to suck at your nipples, causing you to moan under him. he soon lines his cock with your bare cunt causing you to squirm. “please just fuck me already-“ you breath put heavily but soon cut off as he pushes his shaft deep inside you. 😱

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

TOMATO LINGUINE.

carmen “carmy” berzatto x fem!reader — fluff

summary. you surprise carmy with a homemade meal to welcome him home after a long, tiring day at he restaurant. you’re nervous. he’s pleased. you’re tired, and so is he. luckily the couch is calling your names

word count. 834

never wrote him before so im shitting my pants. but he’s been on my mind and needed an outlet. also no s3 spoilers

⎯ ☆ ⎯

Being Carmy's girlfriend isn't always so straightforward. It's great, but it isn't easy. He dislikes the help and aid of others, not because he doesn't like the care or the way it feels, rather, he believes he doesn't deserve it.

So over the past couple of months, you had been subtly increasing the ways you look after him - doing little things to show your love. First, you started small, preparing a water bottle in the fridge overnight, attaching a cute post-it note for him to read as a pick-me-up during service the next day. Then, you moved onto organising his stuff by the front door - lining his clogs and his commuting shoes beside his backpack, placing his coat next to it as an attempt to make his morning easier. You just wanted to help lighten his load, even if that means organising things for him that he’s bound to never forget.

You had been working up to making him dinner. It was an awfully scary thing, not because you were uncertain with your way around the kitchen, but worried in the chance Carmy were to hate it - or make a critique you couldn’t stomach.

You knew he would be tired coming home tonight, a critic in the restaurant will do that to him. You wanted to make him something to eat for when he returns, something homely and welcoming, just something comforting to make up for all of the stresses from today.

You decided on pasta, an all round dish with very little room for error. A jar of sauce would be blasphemy in his apartment, an insult almost, so you made your own simple sauce - placing tomatoes and garlic in a dish, coating it with one of Carmy’s fancy olive oils before throwing it in the oven to roast. It was one you had made a bunch of times for yourself before, so you were fairly confident with it. Sort of.

Remembering little tips he had taught you, you implemented them with everything you cooked - like right now, saving the water from the linguine to incorporate later. And to season throughout, not just at the start or end. You wanted to impress him. You always wanted to impress him.

The key in the door jingles and you rush to add the finishing touches - sprinkling on some chopped herbs, and placing a piece of homemade garlic bread on the side. 

“Hi,” you softly call out, hearing his shoes hit the skirting board - no doubt after he had just kicked them off.

He paces over to you, moving sluggishly as he wraps his arms loosely around your waist, chin hooking over your shoulder. “Hi,” he says back, voice tired against your ear. “Smells great in here.”

“Good. I’m glad you think so,” you smile, pressing a kiss into his temple. “I made you dinner.”

“You uh, you did?” he pulls back, a sheepish smile on his face.

You hum, moving aside to pick up the bowl. “But I can put it in the fridge if you’ve already eaten…”

“No no no,” he shakes his head, reaching to take the bowl from your grasp. “I– I haven’t all day, so uh, so this is perfect,” he nods faintly, reaffirming his words.

Your gaze flickers from the bowl to his eyes, growing antsy. “Please just try it, this is killing me,” you say, scrunching your face from the anticipation. 

He twirls the pasta on his fork and takes a bite, humming in a pleasant tune as he chews.

“Is it good? Is it bad? Too much garlic?” you ramble, nervous from his lack of verbal response. 

“No,” he shakes his head. “It’s uh, it’s tremendous,” he smiles, 

“You’re not just saying that?” you joke. “Not trying to spare my feelings, are you?”

“No,” he chuckles earnestly, shaking his head. “I mean it… it’s almost perfect,” his smile softens as he twirls his fork for another bite. “Did uhm, you use my olive oil?”

“Only a little bit– hope that’s okay.”

“Of course,” he nods once more, chewing his mouthful. “It’s great, I love it,” he grins faintly, leaning in to kiss you. “Thank you.”

–

With full, happy bellies, each of you lay on your sides on the sofa - snug to one another to share the small space. Carmen props the side of his head in his fist, elbow bent beside your head. 

“How are you feeling?” you ask, referring to the  moment of comfortable almost silence.

You notice him hesitate, and to assure him, you copy his movement - propping your head in your hand, your other reaching to the side of his face. You stroke over his sideburn, fingers grazing back into his messy, unkempt curls.

“Tired,” he exhales, eyes closing from your touch. 

“Me too,” you murmur. You adjust, eyes silently asking him to do the same. Moving forward and twisting, you lay your head on his chest - your arm wrapping around his waist tightly. “Get some sleep, Bear. Busy day tomorrow, you need the rest.”

this is probs a one time thing btw x

[k9iriz]

𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭, 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡.

𝟏𝟖+

𝘳𝘩𝘦𝘢 𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘹 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙙:

𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘬𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢, 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯/𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳/𝘴𝘶𝘣! 𝘳𝘩𝘦𝘢/𝘥𝘰𝘮! + 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵

"I didn't even fuckin' do anything!" I argued to a stressed out rhea, overly done listening to what i had to say.

After her match and segment, premiering after she won her championship, things got off to a rocky start. She was getting more respected as a champ, and more spotlight, which caused you to feel alone, and you getting more crankier, and your attitude flashes made things worse.

She paid less attention, and was gaining an interest in Toni Storm.

You two weren't official...or i should say fuck buddies. It hurt bad that as the second priority to her, you didn't gain enough attention from her like she used to before she blew up and got her spot as champion and tagged with more females...knowing nobody knew about what was going on between you two, it hurt you.

But she blindly claimed you. Nonetheless, You got jealous anytime she'd be around someone.

So planning payback was first in mind.

"You didn't do nothing? You mindlessly flirted with another female in front of my fucking face Y/N! Yeah, real fucking bust...slut." Rhea mumbled that last part, so hard that her accent popped out so easily, revealing she was overly pissed.

"Run that by me again...?" You paused, looking at her as if you saw a ghost. One thing was...Rhea antagonized most arguments with her very slick comments, and it did something to you...physically.

But you also had a slick mouth...more than to say than her.

"Nothing-"

"Bitch! I heard what you said! You wanna act all hurt now that im giving you the same treatment, Rhea. It's not fair at fuckin' all. The audacity people like you must have." You cursed violently, giving her her the taste of her own medicine.

Rhea stopped the car with abruptive ease, stopping the car before slamming the door, storming in behind her of your shared apartment.

"You can't get fuckin mad...But if your mad you can't handle the fuckin' truth, not my fault. Then you wanna call me a slut? You must be a whore. Giving all these females attention ever since you got that gold. Made you more of a bitch than you already are-" Your yelling rant was mid cut off with a forceful choke against the wall.

"I've bout fuckin' had it with your attitude. It's been going on ever since i got that championship...Hm princess? You jealous?" Rhea growled, her intense eyes drew into your pupils before slyly biting your lip, getting lost in her eyes.

Not responding, her nodding before roughly pushing you on the bed, towering over you intimindatingly, her demeanor...her dominance laced and took over you, once she gave you that mug look, tilting her eyes to you, and those eyes pierced into yours, like she could destroy you in one piece.

And not that...you been yearning for some action. This was the intention once you seen her flip. Make her jealous.

"You got 5 seconds to strip. Or i'll do it myself." Rhea raved silently for us to hear, making me slowly look at her.

"Make me." You spat coldly.

"Mnm fuck!" You whined loudly as you heaved yourself up with your two hands, grinding your hips slowly around her long fingers, making you squeal, tightening around them as a sly smirk appeared on your lovers' face.

"Don't you even think about cumming, slut. You wanted to be a bratty bitch to me, brats don't get to cum." Rhea scolded in a teasing manner, staring at her fingers, the sight of my juices coating almost her whole hand, glistening right off of her fingers.

"Hm-ph" I groaned, before getting cut off with a moan, a loud one as i felt that familiar knot in my stomach, feeling her fingers move inside of my clit, before curling them, grazing my sweet spot.

"C-can i p-please c-cum?" I wordlessly stuttered, throwing my head back as my legs shook, unable to personally keep me still and standing up.

"Hm...Show me you deserve to cum princess...you can do it..."Rhea teased, swirling her tongue around her pink plump lips, staring dead at me, connecting eyes with each other, not noticing a mirror was in front of me.

"Or are you gonna tap out like the little bitch you are? Hm? You gonna give up on me? I bet this feels better than my fuckin' tongue touching you, hm?" Rhea barked, her facial expression changing fastly.

"I fuckin' hate you so much-" I spat under my breath, gritting my teeth before nodding my head repeatedly as i stopped moving, along with her fingers plunging in and out of slit repeatedly, before staring into the mirror.

"Repeat what you said. I couldn't fuckin' hear you over those pretty little moans of yours sweetheart." Rhea dared, teasing us completely, causing my mouth to agape, my eyes shutting as i chanted curse words under my breathe, egging her on.

"This is why you been acting out? You wanted me to fuck you? Finger fuck you? You could've asked me to baby, now i have to make my slut suffer." Rhea egged, fake frowning before moving closer to us as she sat in a mans spread on the chair, watching us through the mirror, slutted out and fucked out.

"Look at you sweetheart. All fucked out and being a slutty wet whore all down my fingers...be a good girl for me and look at how wet you are...just by off my fingers." Rhea chuckled.

I shook my head.

Rhea sat on the bed, behind me, as her other hand, came in contact with my neck, forcefully making me look at the mirror.

Everything was on display, her fingers toying with my clit, tears falling down my face as more my sweet juices spilled from down my inner thigh and beneath me as i looked at her dark eyes, everything felt so right in that moment.

Rhea's hand came in soft contact with our cheek, making her squeeze our face, my mouth agaping as she stared at me like a demon before i threw my head back on her shoulder, her mouth coming in contact with my ear.

Public display of affection.

"Look at you. My pretty little cumslut. Don't you ever fuckin' embarrass me like that again. Your mines. Your whole body belongs to me, I own you. You got it?" Rhea growled in my ear, speeding up her finger movements as screams and curse words, enough to send me over edge before releasing over her fingers, causing a chuckle from her.

"Open." Rhea ordered, as i stuck my tongue out, her spitting in it as she stuck my juices covered fingers along with my mouth, swirling it around her fingers, easily cleaning them off before i swallowed it, looking at her with lust in my eyes.

"Yes i got it." I giggled, referring to her last question, now i know if this can get me fucked like this? ill do it more often.

Plus a new riding skill.

"I'll get you a shower ready." She smirked before trailing off in my bathroom, staring at her...Jesus she's fine.

Im also a wattpad writer, and very new to tumblr so bare with me, send in requests! thank you guys! <3 - kairi.