#maybe i just feel guilty and i was the reason i was blocked and was ghosted

[battampria]

do you ever just look back to all the stuff you used to send to a friend and go "damn... what happened..?" or "i wonder how theyre doing now.."

[silentstaresfanficandfanart]

guys i freaking did it fraeking did self therapy so i could edit this ritsu into the image, ensemble stars CAN be good for your mental health see! This was just so freaking ritsu-core I had to sit down and hardcore speedrun through trying to process some trauma so id stop getting flashbacks during this, its uh, not 100% BUT my flashbacks decreased in severity and frequency enough i could finish the piece without making myself miserable explanation for what i did below

Id do a below the cut thing but i cant figure out how that works so sorry for the long post but i figured i should share it since it provided me relief so freaking fast-? (again im not cured but ...it helped.)

(I sat down, processed my trauma by going over what i learned from my traumatic experience and not shying away from the things i wanted to avoid because well they were making me have flashbacks, carefully going over what i learned from it in detail that allowed me to regain some control over how the situation affected me and how i handle situations going forward and how it changed my view of the world, and then i went over in detail how i would handle it if a similar situation came up and what little i can actually do to prevent it, while also assuring myself that its okay that theres a certain degree of uncertainty but that its a very rare and unlikely thing for that to ever happen let alone multiple times in my life and ill probably never encounter it again, and since i took my brains concerns seriously, it seemed to be more willing to actually let me believe that this time. I feel ...so much better and like a weights been lifted. I cant believe i just freaking did all this becasue i needed to make a meme so bad but honestly im so proud of myself, worth it. definitely reccomend it, I really wish someone had told me sooner that telling yourself what you learned from a situation and making it part of an uplifting narrative and that kind of thing is in fact, what it means to process trauma and that theres actually a definition for that and its not just wait around and hope your brain unfricks itself. i have a lot of work left to do on myself but i feel so much better... thanks to original poster for making a meme so good i had to make my own ver-)

Saw this post and immediately knew I had to make it Ford

(Og post under cut)

[yuureimajo]

.

[seoulmatez]

— 𝒹𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝓂𝑒? ౨ৎ

suna rintaro x reader. 609 wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ timeskip suna ﾉ suna is out of the country ﾉ honestly just lovesick ramblings :3

“do you miss me?” suna asks, only his eyes and the fluffy dark hair peeking out from his hood visible on the screen of your phone. if you had to guess, he must be lying on his stomach, phone lazily tilting back in his loose hold.

“hm, i don’t know.” a crease forms between his eyebrows at your unfavorable answer. you try to stop yourself from smiling as you continue. “having the bed to myself has been nice. i haven’t had to worry about your ice cold feet waking me up in the middle of the night.”

“they’re not that cold…” you can’t see it but you can hear the pout in his voice.

“liar—they might as well be actual blocks of ice.”

with a defeated sigh, suna’s phone tips back even more, obscuring the entirety of his face, leaving you with nothing but a view of the ceiling. even his voice feels a little farther away. “maybe i’ll just stay here forever then.”

“so dramatic,” you declare with a laugh. a smile lingers on your lips even after you put the joke to rest. “i’m just kidding. of course i miss you.”

he adjusts his phone once more, finally fitting the entirety of his face in the screen. he doesn’t look convinced of your words, eyes squinted in skepticism, lips still tugged down in a small frown. “what exactly do you miss about me?”

“everything,” you tell him.

“that’s not specific enough.”

you almost call him out for being so needy but you suppose listing off a reason or two is the least you can do, considering you were the one to start all of this. “okay, i miss the smell of your cologne in the apartment.”

it’s nothing specially, really—the same fresh scent he’s been wearing for as long as you’ve known him, but the lack of it seems to make you hyper aware of his absence. like a candle you light for comfort, his signature scent has become a homey one to you, not so easily replaced by others.

your answer seems to bring suna some type of consolation, his eyes softening. the frown he wore has all but disappeared but he doesn’t let himself smile quite yet. “anything else?”

you hum thoughtfully for just a moment before something comes to you. “i miss your late night snacking and how you always share with me.”

as much as you scold him about eating so late, you’re just as guilty whenever you find yourself sitting down to enjoy ramen with him far past midnight. though, there’s something strangely peaceful about the two of you passing a warm bowl between each other in the silence of the night—when the rest of the city has gone to sleep. little moments like those make it feel like the world belongs to the two of you alone.

suna nods in acceptance of your answer, although he still isn’t willing to let you off the hook. he meets your gaze through the camera, wishing that he was able to do so in person. “one more.”

“fine…” you don’t have to think for long to come up with one final answer for him. “i actually do miss sharing the bed with you. it feels empty when you’re not here.”

that’s probably your least favorite thing about him being away—how you have no choice but to go to sleep without him beside you, how you’re forced to wake up without him near.

“i knew it.” a grin takes over his face but it isn’t victorious nor cocky—he’s genuinely happy that you’ve admitted it.

because sleeping without you is like not sleeping at all to suna.

thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting ❤︎

[donetbhlmao]

every time i rewatch the bear i think about how sydney (often) actively resists opening up emotionally to/getting closer to carmy - more under the cut

moments that immediately come to mind:

when carm asks syd about her dad in s2 e2: she interrupts him and brings the convo back to food.

when carmy asks syd about her new place and how her dad is feeling about the move in s3: i don't remember the actual episode but she interrupts him again to talk about work. what was the reason!!!

when carmy initially asks about syd's mom in s2: she has shown that talking about her mom is difficult (see: her convo with marcus at her place when she made him a beautiful meal), so this could be ambiguous but i think still worth mentioning.

WHEN CARMY TELLS HER SHE LOOKS NICE IN S3: she immediately takes off her bow???? i havent been able to stop thinking about this beat because why does she do that. does she not want to be perceived by him that way? does she feel guilty because she just got back from meeting with another chef for another position (thereby potentially dissolving her and carmy's partnership)? WHY WHY WHY (also she's so real for this because i think it's at least partially meant to signal that she's uncomfortable with his attention if he's not going to accompany it with meaningful communication). yes she favors scarves in the kitchen and she was getting ready for work but i think there's something else going on and have been rotating this scene in my head like it's a rotisserie chicken.

the fact that she half-lied about why she came to work at the bear in the first place, and, relatedly, that he made the best meal she ever had: maybe carm caught onto this one but she doesn't ever openly tell him that she's a fan of his work (and that he made the best meal she ever had!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) i say half-lied because she almost immediately tells him that she knows who he is. so.

i've been thinking a lot about syd's feelings for carmy and how she likely fears emotional intimacy with him. it's a stark contrast to how easily she opens up to marcus or asks richie questions about his daughter or even mentors/becomes friends with tina.

carmy is deeply interested in syd as a person and SHOWS it - in fact the few times in s3 that he's civil to her is when they are not working in the stresses of the kitchen and he's asking her about her life.

i can't think of a time where syd asks CARMY about his family (remember - she asks richie about michael), and when he opens up (without prompting from her!!!) about michael being an addict to her she lightens the mood with a joke, and when he opens up about how donna was a nightmare and he's trying to reclaim cannolis, all she says is "whoa." (btw i actually love sydney because she's so emotionally stunted like that's my girl <3)

she will open up about sheridan road, and her fear of failure (so inherent to who she is and her motivations in the show!), but not so much about HERself and her personal life. it's fascinating.

an exception to this is when syd tells carmy to call richie and apologize - even then it's not syd "asking" per se, but it is her taking a step and knowing what's best for carmy (and the kitchen) in that moment.

i think this is meant to indicate how carmy is different from everyone else in syd's life - almost like he doesn't "fit" into any of the other boxes she has for people.

now, i personally read this as romantic. there's something BIG blocking sydney from accepting that, though, and i think it's that carmy is so tied to her passion, her profession, her LIFE'S WORK, and she will not, cannot, fuck that up. we all talk about claire being an obstacle to a potential romantic connection between the two - and she is - but i truly think sydney's unwillingness to confront her interest in carmy is a bigger, more substantial hurdle (though not at all impossible to overcome!)

[jude5bellingham]

jude is so sure that when he calls he will get sent to voicemail, which is exactly how he ends up speechless when he hears your voice on the other line. his mouth opening and closing as his mind tries to find words that make an excuse as to why he was calling you at 2am on a friday night (clearly a little (lot) bit drunk).

"i didn't think you'd pick up..." he curses himself as he walks through the crowd, hand cupped over his mouth and phone in an attempt to amplify his voice to be heard by you, heading towards the front door of the club, excusing himself to get past the wall of people in front of him.

"why'd you think that?"

"it's late? i don't know..." he says as he waits for the bouncer to unclip the retractable belt blocking his way. he mouths a 'thank you' as he walks out of the club, and takes a few steps before settling against the wall.

"what's wrong jude?"

"i guess i just wanted to hear your voice." he brings his finger up to his mouth, biting away at a hangnail as he waits for a response. he takes a deep breath in as he hears a noise that sounds like you shifting around bed on the other side.

"sorry..." he cuts you off, or at least he imagines he does, apologizing for putting you in this situation. he imagines that you were in your nightly ritual of doom scrolling your social media of choice, and that this call had interuppted your nightly routine.

"for?"

"nothing? maybe everything?" he feels the corners of his lips turning up into a smile, he knows that you're not upset with him but he feels sorry for some reason. he shakes his head, shaking the silly unwarranted guilty feeling he's experiencing with it.

"jude?"

"yeah?"

"can you hear it?"

jude thinks for a second, his face still radiating heat from the drinks he had inside earlier, closing his eyes tightly as if that would help with his ability to concentrate.

"what?"

"i think i love you..."

he can hear the nervousness in your voice, bubbling up and coming out as a small huff of air best described as an attempted giggle.

"okay! anyways goodnight jude! get home safe! i've already texted trent to make sure you get home!"

he laughs as you rush to blurt everything out so quickly that he is unable to manage to get a word in before you hang up so quickly that if he didn't know you any better, he might've mistaken your embarrassment for regret.

[gtgbabie0]

-Spencer Reid x reader

{Spencer hates waking you up for multiple reasons}

Super fluffy!! kinda suggestive at the end... kinda. Hope you enjoy as always my lovelies! 💕

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Spencer just can’t seem to bring himself to do it, he was meant to wake you up hours ago but each attempt was pointless, and you certainly didn't make it any easier for him. You look so blissful with your cheek smushed against the pillow, the covers wrapped securely around your shoulders and he refuses to be the one to disturb you from such peace.

Perhaps that’s why he tries to take a gentler approach, walking into the dimly lit room trying not to be too loud. He sits beside you on the bed, his hand soothing along your arm as he watches you stir from your sleep.

“Y/n? You’ve got to wake up baby” he whispers, brushing your hair away from your eyes and tucking it behind your ear, the back of his fingers grazing against your warm cheek.

You groan something completely incoherent as you tug the covers over your head and he chuckles softly at the sight, trying to pull the blanket back away from you. He would feel guilty about it, but the sounds you're making are far too funny.

“Come on baby, it’s almost twelve o’clock. You’ve had six whole hours of sleep” he says with a gentle tone, leaning to press delicate kisses against your shoulder, his soft lips trailing up to your jaw as he tries to coax you from dreamland.

You huff, mumbling something before turning around away from him. “Please Spence, just five more minutes… m’so tired” your voice is muffled by the pillows as you nuzzle your face further into the warm fabric trying to block out the sunlight that peaks from behind the curtains.

“You say, ‘five more minutes Spence’ but I know for a fact you won't get up” he teases, his hand continues to soothe against your back in an attempt to stop you from falling back asleep.

Spencer watches as you shoot him a glare from over your shoulder, biting the inside of his cheek, trying to stop the smirk that teeters against his lips, as you turn back around to face him. “Did you just mock me?” You feign offence, the teasing look that flashes through your eyes gives you away.

“Are you going to get up?” He ignores your question, instead, he leans down to press another kiss on your cheek.

“No” you mumble, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

“Come on, I’ll make you pancakes?” he smiles, leaning into your touch slightly as your hand moves to cup his cheek, thumb caressing the space under his eye.

“Hmm… sweeten the deal, maybe give me a kiss or two?” you whisper, noticing the blush that dusts against his face.

He watches as you sit up, letting the covers fall from your shoulders as he stammers out a small “Okay” when your hand rests against his chest, the feeling of his soft sweater under your palm seems to draw you closer to him.

You decide to push your luck further, “Maybe even take a shower with me?” Your chest blooms with proud warmth as his face reddens, letting out a breathy chuckle.

He wonders if you have even the slightest idea of just how much you affect him. Just how much he’s insanely in love with you. But the look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know, the way they seem to light up with nothing but adoration.

“Of course” he smiles, pressing one final kiss to your cheek before standing up from the bed. “Lunch first though,” he says, walking over to the door, trying to stifle his laughter as you throw yourself back onto the bed, groaning his name. He walks into the kitchen yelling out for you to get up as he begins preparing some pancakes.

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[hazelsmirrorball]

Lacy | Oscar Piastri x Logan Sargent x Fem! Reader

summary: oscar piastri has everything logan sargent could ever wish for but he would trade everything just for y/n to seem him the way he sees her

faceclaim: olivia rodrigo

pairings: oscar piastri x gf!singer!reader, logansargent x friend!singer!reader

a/n: can’t even tell you what is this, but it’s something different that’s for sure. Excuse any errors english isn’t my main language

Logan Sargents eyes wandered all over Oscar Piastri’s apartment. His heart beats to the rhythm of the clock near him. He could feel sweat dripping from his forehead as he waited for Oscar to enter the living room. For a guy that almost exploded his phone with messages for them to hang out; he’s taking a lot of time to pay him attention.

At first he didn’t want to come, but part of him felt guilty if he denied his best friend’s invitation. He couldn’t say he was busy because the McLaren driver could read right through him. He nervously played with his hands trying to think of something, anything but the thought of Oscar’s longterm girlfriend. He felt bad, he couldn’t lie to himself and deny what was going through his head.

But as Logan’s eyes continuously scanned his around his apartment trying to distract himself it was as he saw the ghost of her leaning towards him. Every bit and piece had, y/n’s touch, everything traced back to her.

Her sweet perfume lingered on the couch cushions. While an empty can of her favorite drink sat on the table in front of him. As he kept looking his eyes rested on the small table next to him, the red cherry lipstick that covered her beautiful lips stared back at him as he felt his stomach turn. Pieces of her used handmade bows that had little strands of her hair. Logan let a deep sigh imagining all the times Y/n would come in the paddock with her sweet cherry lips and her beautiful hair flowing in the wind.

Logan’s hand slowly reached for the table in front of him, trying to snap himself out of the trance he was being suck into. How can a thing so sweet ruin all his morals, all his beliefs. He felt guilty, guilty for wanting the one thing that made Oscar Piastri happy.

But why couldn’t he have her? Oscar wasn’t a bad person towards Logan, well at least not directly. Oscar Piastri had everything Logan Sargent ever wanted. A perfect F1 career, a perfect team, a perfect life and the perfect girl. Oscar was smart, attractive and funny, everything opposite from Logan. At least in his eyes. Why couldn’t Logan have this one thing? What did Oscar have that Logan didn’t? He swore he had potential, he just needed time for people to see it. Oscar had the only thing Logan Sargent really wanted, Y/n.

“Sorry, mate! I was busy helping Y/n hang a painting in her room. But my attention is one hundred percent on you now” Oscar said sitting down next to Logan. He slowly scanned Oscar body noticing the familiar lipstick stain adorned on his lips.

As much as Logan wanted to avoid the facts. He found himself stumbling upon the couple everywhere he would go. Photos of them in the paddock, group hangouts, hell even fans would tagged him in their couple pictures. It drove him insane, he tried to rationalize, to call himself. But every single thing Oscar did was poison for Logan, he couldn’t take it anymore. It was like Oscar deep down knew about Logan’s feelings towards her and was out to get him. He wanted to make him suffer, there wasn’t any other reason. Oscar was to get Logan, that was a constant thought in his head. Maybe he was jealous or maybe he idolized Oscar in a way no one else could.

“Oh, it’s no problem really. Mentioning Y/n I don’t know if you remember the text I sent you a few weeks ago” Logan said placing his notebook in the table in front of Oscar and him. Oscar looked at the notebook and nodded

“Yeah! I showed y/n the thing you wrote and she was over the moon! she enjoyed it a lot, she was in a complete writers block so that helped her a lot with writing that new ep she wanted to do. So thank you so much logan, i owe you one big time” Oscar said slightly punching logan shoulder as he forced a smile letting out a chuckle with him.

“that’s what friends are for. But she decided to make the poem into a song? i didn’t think it was that good” Logan responded raising an eyebrow towards Oscar. He simply shook his head and turned towards him.

“I don’t know where or how you wrote that poem. But i trust y/n’s opinion, that song is going to be a hit!” Oscar responded in attempt to shake Logan insecurities. He quietly nodded, feeling a real smile starting to creep up.

“what’s the name of the song?” Logan managed to slip out

“Lacy”

Oh, Logan Sargent Loathed the dazzling starlet that was Oscar Piastri and even though he didn’t have y/n. he would do anything to have Y/n bows around his wrist and her lipstains on places only the two of them would know, even if he had to play the long run.

y/nnnn via instagram!

liked by logansargent, oscarpiastri and 2,368,902 others

y/nnnn so excited for my new single that’s coming out real soon!!! thank you so much to one of my favorite drivers @logansargent that gave me the main inspo to write this song, love you so so much and i wish you guys love this so as much as i do x.

view all comments

landonorris for a moment i forgot you were a singer, i thought you were just oscar’s annoying gf

-> y/nnnn shut up

user101 mother is back!!!!

user23 thank you logan for being y/n’s inspiration

user1893 team logan!!!!!!

user78 team oscar!!!

oscarpiastri so talented! i love you so so much

logansargent you are wonderful y/n!! i’m always proud of you and ur music

[aniesvision]

distraction (bff!colby x f!reader)

based on a request! (im sorry it's not exactly how u asked for but i'll do more fics with colby and try to use all your requests, for now i hope u like this one 💕)

warnings: little angst at the beginning, mentions of break-up and cheating (not her or colby), crying, kissing, making out, fingering, oral (f! receiving), handjob, p in v, pet names (baby, pretty girl), kinda rough (?), slight dumbification, spanking but just a lil bit, all fours!, orgasm denial, praising, pleading, backshot.

a/n: hi! I had this in my notes but in portuguese, so I tried to translate it, if the writing is different that's why! i hope you guys enjoy it, and just the usual reminder: english is not my first language!

synopsis: you go through a breakup and decide to drive to your best friend's house to distract yourself, but he surprises you with his choice of distraction.

note: Colby's purple!

🪻🪻🪻

Although I had always loved rainy days, the gray clouds covering the sun and the drops of water soaking the concrete streets, today I couldn't see it in a positive way. Traffic was at a standstill, a thunderstorm was falling on the glass, and the sound of my music was being drowned out by the loud noise of drops contacting the roof and windows of the car.

In any other situation, I would've just parked, turned up the sound and enjoyed the time. But now, I would do anything to stop all this and just get to my destination right away.

The stress of the current situation and the memories of what brought me this far rolled through my mind and all I could do was feel the tears forming and falling on the steering wheel.

It was just a few more damn blocks, just a few more streets, just a little bit more. The crying came as hard and heavy as the rain outside. If there's one thing I've always hated it's feeling weak. To be collapsing in the car, standing in the middle of the street with a storm happening, the feeling of being so close, yet so far from where I wanted to be, was too much.

Not only that, but having just moved out of my, now ex, boyfriend's house after he decided to finally confess that he had been cheating on me for the past few weeks while I had been traveling for work and thinking about how I missed him didn't help at all.

I didn't want to go for so long, I hated being out of the house, out of my comfort zone, and even though I enjoyed my job and learned a lot, maybe I could have avoided it all.

Of course, if he cheated, it wasn't because we were separated for a long time (witch wasn't even the case, it was just two weeks), it was because he was a dick.

But still, I can't help but wonder if things could've gone differently if I had simply refused the trip.

It was only two weeks, which in theory wouldn't be that long. Two weeks, in which I dedicated myself to work and tried to improve my career. Two weeks in which he was always too busy for a facetime, but said he missed me. Two weeks in which I bought gifts for him, in which I texted him whenever it was possible, in which he was fucking another woman in the same bed that I used to spend my nights.

I returned from the trip straight to him, straight to his house, straight into his arms. The hug and touch I wanted to feel so much.

He opened the door and didn't even smile at me. I walked in, asked what was wrong, my heart already felt that something was going to happen, that there was something wrong. I knew, even before he said anything, that we weren't going to stay together after that conversation.

When we sat down and he explained his reason for not wanting to be with me anymore, for making me feel guilty for leaving him alone, apologizing for cheating on me but not seeming to regret it, my heart broke into a thousand little pieces.

I didn't say a word, I just handed him the gift I bought him during the trip, knowing he'd like it, and walked out the door. I hadn't cried until then, even though I was destroyed from the first moment.

My idea was to go to my best friends' house and try my best to forget about all this. But, traffic happened, and the tears kept coming, and I couldn't even pull myself together enough to drive a few more damn streets. I cried, and cried some more, and even more.

I cried until I had no more tears left, and then I felt so tired that I couldn’t even think straight. I took a deep breath, started the car, and drove the rest of the way to his house. I knocked on the door a few times, and as soon as it opened, I didn’t even wait to figure out who had opened it, I just buried my face in the chest of the person in front of me and clung to their body with all the strength I had left.

The person in front of me gently pushed me back. Colby looked at me with concern, his eyes softening as he take in my state. He pulled me into another hug, allowing me to stay there as long as I needed. After a while, we separated.

He locked the front door and explained that he was home alone, but Sam would probably be back later if I wanted to talk to him too. We sat on the living room couch. Colby hesitated to ask what happened, due to my state. I took a deep breath, removed my sneakers, crossed my legs on the couch, and mindlessly played with my fingers while I told him what happened, without looking at him.

-He cheated on me. — I said, simply and directly, my voice slightly hoarse and still filled with sadness.

Colby's eyes widened in shock, and he quickly stood up, stopping in front of me.

-What?? —His voice carried anger.

He was in disbelief, caught off guard by my confession, but it was clear how furious he was.

I remained silent, unable to repeat the phrase that had already been so difficult to say out loud.

-He’s a damn idiot for cheating on a girl like you. Fuck, I want to punch him so bad right now. —Colby ranted, pacing from one end of the room to the other.

It was hard not to break down right there, but it was even harder to cry in front of someone else. Despite having cried in front of Colby before, I didn’t want to shed tears for someone who didn’t deserve them.

-I don’t want to remember it anymore. Can we talk about something else, please? I just need a distraction. —I said, frustrated.

Colby looked at me, the anger gradually turning into understanding. He took a deep breath to calm himself and nodded, extending a hand to help me up before pulling me into another hug.

-Yes, of course. Whatever you want. —He said, his tone softer now.

He stroked my hair with one hand and my back with the other. We stayed like that for a while, not saying anything, just appreciating the closeness. After a few minutes, he pulled away just enough to look into my eyes, studying me carefully, trying to understand my feelings. It looked like he was examining every detail of my face, maybe to gauge how I was doing, simply out of concern.

Colby gave me a small smile, cupping my cheeks with his hands and leaving a gentle caress there. His gesture made me smile back, and I looked at him as attentively as he looked at me.

Without saying anything or even preparing me for his next move, he pressed his lips on mine in a delicate, quick kiss, pulling away in less than five seconds, afraid of my reaction.

I stared at him, not angry, not irritated, not disappointed, just extremely confused.

-You said you needed a distraction. —He explained, his voice low and hesitant, as if he still wasn’t sure if he should have done that, if it had worsened the situation or possibly helped.

I think about what he said. Colby and I had shared a few kisses before at parties when I was single, and he was too. But, at parties, we were in a more appropriate setting for friends to just kiss spontaneously without needing any justification, purely out of desire or a “fuck it” moment.

And now, despite not being at a party, I was upset, heartbroken, and genuinely needed something to take my mind off things. So, the “fuck it” moment happened, and I leaned in to kiss him again.

What was supposed to be just a quick peck, turned into something more when he decided to deepen the kiss and brush his tongue against mine. It was the first time we kissed for real. It wasn't just a simple touching of lips, but a true tongue battle, with our heads slightly tilted to opposite sides.

His hands moved to my hips, pulling me closer, and I wrap my hands around his neck, playing with his hair. He was a good kisser, the synchrony of our mouths was perfect, and the distraction was working way too well, until he pulled away, with a smug smile on his face.

-Do you feel distracted yet? —He asks, in a sarcastic tone, like he wanted to find a way to provoke me as he always do. I roll my eyes with a small smile on my lips, not even thinking twice before responding.

-I think I'm not distracted enough.

He pulled me into another kiss, even more intense than the last one. Gradually, he took two steps back, sitting down on the couch, with his legs slightly open, his eyes focused on mine.

He pulls me by the hands, making me sit on his lap, each leg of mine on one side of his body.

We went back to kissing, not even giving ourselves time to process what we were doing. It felt so natural, as normal as a routine, it felt comfortable enough that I didn't even wonder if I should be making out with my best friend.

The kiss became deeper, more intense. Colby moves his hands to my ass, pulling me even closer, making me feel his already hard member through his sweatpants. In an automatic action, I move my hips, grinding on him and making him separate the kiss to let out a loud sigh.

Our gazes met once again, his pupils were dilated, his eyes looked different, the tension in the air was almost palpable.

He squeezes my ass, making me gasp, and a smile appears on his lips. I didn't know when Sam was going to come back home, I only knew that this was in fact happening when I felt my shirt being pulled off my body and thrown on the floor.

Fortunately for me I wore a nice bra today, which matched my panties. My idea was that someone else would see it, but it didn't happen as I expected.

I didn't know how to feel when my thoughts went to how slutty I was to let someone else see me that way so quickly after my break up, but considering that I trust Colby with my life, and it was visible how fascinated he was, I couldn't case less.

His eyes scan my body, his fingers lightly moving at my sides, almost shyly, feeling my skin. But he wasn't shy, it was obvious from the way he was basically eye fucking me.

- I really want to do this, but I don't want you to feel like I'm taking advantage of the situation to get in your pants. —He says. I smile, grateful that even though we were making out, he still thinks of me with respect.

I take one of my hands to his chin, lifting it with two fingers.

- I trust you. —My voice is firm, although it contains a certain sweetness.

He nods, getting the message, and kisses me again. In one quick motion, he takes off his own shirt, tossing it close to mine on the floor, wasting no time in exploring my exposed skin with his fingertips.

His lips trace kisses from my mouth to my neck, where he leaves some hickeys. My eyes remain closed, feeling every touch my best friend provided.

Without thinking too much, I run my fingers through his skin too, feeling every detail. Even though I've seen him shirtless before, this was different, it was another context and another occasion.

I let my fingers slide down to the waistband of his sweatpants, but before I could pull it down, he switches our positions, laying me down on the couch and doing what I planned to do, taking off his sweatpants and tossing it aside.

He does the same with mine, his eyes looking me up and down, his lips finding mine to another kiss.

Our glued bodies, the friction between our skins and the last pieces of clothing are reasons enough for us to understand that we were crossing a line. Even so, neither of us took the time to stop and ask if we were sure, it was obvious from how unable we were to stop. From the fact that I was already hot, my panties soaked and how hard he was.

There was no room for questioning.

Slowly, Colby's hands find the clasp of my bra, gently taking it off. He stares at my boobs for a few seconds, his mouth agape like he was seeing the best work of art of all times in front of him.

-So beautiful. —He mumbles, before bringing his lips to my nipples and leaving wet kisses there.

He squeezes my other boob with his free hand, making me gasp, which gave him even more confidence to continue.

He gave the same attention to the other nipple, gradually moving his kisses to my belly, stopping just before my panties, looking up and smiling before letting his fingers curl around the elastic.

Even though I didn't say a word to stop him, his eyes asked for my permission, and I answered him only with a quick nod.

He took off the last piece of clothing that covered my body, my skin completely exposed to the eyes of my best friend. A wave of nervousness hits me, making me somewhat anxious about the situation I got on.

Colby leaves light kisses on the inside of my thighs, getting closer and closer to where I wanted, taking his time to tease me. When finally his lips make contact with my sensitive area, his tongue tracing a line from my entrance to my clit, a small moan of pleasure escapes my mouth.

-Mhm, Colby, please... -I whine.

It only served to boost his ego, his tongue moving faster and more precise, my hips moving involuntarily against his mouth, his hands firm on my thighs as he kept his head in between my legs, making me completely forget how strange and maybe even wrong it was that I was so easily surrendering to another person.

-Colby... - His name comes out low, in a small plea for him not to stop, one of my hands intertwining in his hair and pulling him closer, my back arching on the couch.

Even though I can't see, I feel a smile forming on his lips, one of his hands sliding down my thigh. He slides a finger under his chin, pushing in and moving it at the same speed as his tongue.

A few moans come naturally from my lips, my hand holding his hair tighter, my head being thrown back and my eyes closing in pleasure. It was almost impossible not to give in, all the anxiety I felt earlier going away with the knot that formed in my stomach.

-Colby, fuck, I'm... -I try to warn him, his voice interrupting me.

-Cum on my fingers, baby.

A feeling of tension followed by relaxation takes over my body and little by little he withdraws his finger and his tongue from me, looking at me intently.

My only reaction was to hold his face and pull him in for a kiss, feeling my own taste. My hands move until I managed to get the last piece of clothing off his body, leaving us equally naked. I use one of my hands to feel him, his veins pulsing in my fingers, the tip hot and red. The sigh coming out of his lips as he feels my hand working on his member, not letting me continue until I'm done as he uses one of his hands to hold both of mine above my head, his other free hand lining up his member at my entrance and thrusting it all at once.

I bite my lips, trying not to scream when I feel the burning sensation and light pain before I got used to his size, a shaky moan leaving my throat. Colby continues to hold my hands, the other now at my waist, his face buried on the curve of my neck.

-Harder... -I plead, his head tilting so he could see me, a smirk on his lips.

-Yeah? Want me to be rough with you? Fuck you dumb? -His thrusts were faster and harder now, with each thrust he'd get balls deep into me, hitting all the right places.

-Please, please, fuck, Colby. -I cry out as he lets out a cocky laugh.

I didn't even tried to keep my moans low and quiet, they already came out loud and frequent, some curses and pleading being constant acts at this point.

The phrases I never thought I would hear coming from him, and from me to him, were the touches of reality that showed me that it was real, it was happening, I was enjoying it, and that, for some reason, my best friend was making me feel more pleasure than my ex made me feel in all the months we were together.

My fingernails had left marks on his back, but he didn't seem to care.

-Turn around. -He groans, pulling out and turning my body so I was in all fours.

I didn't even had a chance to speak before he was burying his dick inside of me once more, the new position making me feel him even deeper than before. Tears were already starting to form on my eyes.

He grabs my hair, keeping me up, leaning to whisper in my ears.

-Such a good girl for me, letting me fuck you like this.

I whine at his words, my legs shaking and another orgasm building up quickly in my stomach.

-Gonna cum for me again, pretty girl? —He asks, leaning down to kiss my shoulder.

I couldn't even speak at this point, so all I do is hum in affirmation, moans getting louder and louder.

-Hold it. —His demand was low and firm, and my eyes widen in surprise.

-C-Colby, fuck, can't, please, I need it so bad, please, please. —I look over my shoulder, catching his smirk before he pushed my head down onto the cushion and slapped my ass harshly.

-Cum with me, baby.

He slaps my ass one last time and my orgasm snaps, making me release all over his dick with a loud moan of his name. I feel him pulling away and shooting his load on my back, making me whine.

×××

We were already both lying down, next to each other, recovering the air and energy we had expended in the last few minutes, in silence, which was only broken by my laughter.

-I can't believe we did that.

He laughs along with me, shaking his head in denial and sitting up. Colby picked up all of our clothes on the floor, and handed me mine carefully, helping me up next.

-Wanna take a shower? —He asks, with caution in his voice like he wanted to proceed carefully from now on.

I nod my head, and he helped all the way through. The affection he showed was genuine, and I appreciated that very much, especially now.

After we are properly cleaned and in comfortable clothes, we lie down on his bed and he pulls me closer. I put an arm and a leg around his body, getting comfortable, and he wraps his arm around me, hugging me back. I rest my head on his shoulder, feeling his hand playing with my hair.

We stayed like this, no need to talk about what happened, just enjoying each other's company, until Sam arrived. I had to say, once again, the story of my breakup, but I didn't feel so sad to tell it anymore. Not while Colby held my hand and listened to everything intently, giving me the assurance that he would be there whenever I needed him.

a/n: I'm not sure how to feel about this one 😭

[bunnwich]

It's Supposed to Be Fun

(a letter to my friends in the twst fandom)

I've been wanting to make this post for a while and these thoughts may seem scattered but I’m gonna try to express them. 

Lately, I have seen many friends and moots that either are leaving the fandom or feel guilty over not having posted in a while or losing interest in twst. On the other side, I also have friends being harassed.

This a reminder to remember why you joined this community to begin with. I know that keeping up with the fast-moving pace of fandom and comparing ourselves to others, can skew our perspective on these things.

It’s supposed to be fun. 

Why do we post art or write? Sure, partly for recognition, there's no denying that. But, why do we create, I mean really? For enjoyment. Not for others, not to be “popular” FOR JOY.

So, whether you’re dealing with people critiquing you or feeling guilty about not creating. My question is this: Why waste so much of your time on something that makes you miserable?

Did it stop being fun? Why? Haters? Loss of interest?

To my friends who feel guilty for not creating and not sure if they lost interest in twst: 

Don’t feel guilty. At one time, the creation of your twst content was natural. It's what you did for fun with friends or for yourself. Revisit that mindset and think - if creating twst content now will bring that same joy it did before.

If the answer is no, then maybe it’s time to pivot. It’s okay for interests to fade. It doesn’t mean that time, memories, or the friends you made are lost. Connect with your friends, we will understand! We still love you! It's not a race there's no time limit, just pick up were you want to. Draw fanart of old events or OCs.

To my friends who have been harassed: 

I say this with sincerity…. People who harass others over fictional characters are fucking losers.

Like… There’s no other eloquent way to encapsulate it. I’m starting to not care for the reason anymore - If you harass or be shady to others over a ship or fictional character. CONGRATS! YOU ARE A LOSER.

We all join fandoms as a hobby, for fun. We’re all just kids in the sandbox playing pretend again… and if you are the type of person to go up just to “kick the doll out of someone’s hand" or make commentary on how “their way of playing is wrong." You’re a loser. I have a life outside of twst, we all do. Someone saying my ship is wrong or cringe is just so laughable to me. We have to make fun of these people more for being so goddamn lame.

Imagine being so unhappy that when you see someone having fun you HAVE to comment on it. By all means, if it gets you through the day...talk shit to close friends or even post about it on your own blog. (THAT WAS ALWAYS ALLOWED.) Don't bother creators directly. Don't be a loser. I sure see tolerance leave people’s bodies when they see a fandom opinion they don't like. (And this is coming from someone who has lots of opinions on these things! But that's why I always put the disclaimers that, hey this is just MY opinion.)

Discussion is one thing, unhelpful comments are another. We shouldn’t give these people the time of day. Curate your online space. Yes, when you post things online you are subjecting yourself to scrutiny. But, we as creators need to stop letting these people have power over us. Period. We do this for free!! FOR FUN. The best thing you can do is create shamelessly.

Delete weird replies, block whoever you need to do to rid yourself of these people who have nothing better to do. Keep your peace. It’s supposed to be for fun. You don’t owe anyone a response.

The twst fandom is like a little family to me and I guess I feel protective over the people in it?  I have made many friends and memories because I joined it. And even dispite a handful of the negative experiences (AKA: A couple of “losers" that I’ve had to deal with.) I’ll always look fondly back on this time.

The key for me has always been to just…create for myself. I originally made bunnwich for me and one friend to make fun little arts about our Yuu’s and now I get to have lots of friends to share it with! I’ve transitioned from an OC blog to probably more of an Oc x Canon blog…but I don’t care tbh. I just…draw what I feel like. I know there are people who probably dislike me for that or feel strange about my content and that’s fine. I’m still gonna keep drawing it, loser.  

And I just want you guys to do the same, twst or not.

I can’t forget that all my followers and friends are a bonus, if I had never joined tumblr I’d still be drawing the silly shit I draw in peace. And while yes, I do want to grow as an artist and sell more merch and keep growing... I can’t forget my initial excitement for this silly little game. I like to talk about it. I like to write about it. It inspires me.

It’s supposed to be fun. Please remember that. I know it can be discouraging to have others being shitty to you. Or going through a creative drought. But, try not to let this stop you from creating what you love.

[retroellie]

Daryl x reader but at first she gets on his nerves? Almost enemies to lovers

Summary: Daryl hated you, completely despised you. His hatred for you turned into something more after just one night with you.

A/N: This is probably the filthiest and longest thing I've ever written :). So enjoy asf!!! This was literally hell to write because i have writer's block right now so my mind is somewhere else right now

Warnings: NSFW, Degradation, Slapping/spanking, Daryl just being mean asf. Kind of a toxic relationship?!?

Word count: 8K

Daryl was at peace in this moment, complete and utter peace. The river slowly rushing against the earth, the soft wind blowing against his skin, the bright light of the sun bursting the stress from his face. Ever since he had gotten away from Alexandria he felt he was where he belonged, nature. Ever since he was a kid, rivers and forests were his safe haven. The only living thing to be seen was the animals and even then they were fearful of humans.

That's how Daryl felt in a way, fearful of humans and what they can do, that's why he resided with animals. They had their packs and stayed with them, never getting too close to other packs. It was just him and his home, of course with the dog too. But despite the healing of the river or the wind whispering into his ear, this wound could never be healed for Daryl. He was out here for a reason and this time it wasn't trying to run away from his dad.

It was for Rick, his friend, his family.... his brother. This was a deeper wound than any he'd ever had, mental or physical. He was angry, hurt, and guilty for what he had done, especially with the silence that came with nature. He looked for days on end, and those days turned to months, and months turned to years. He felt like he was going crazy, but he knew Rick was still alive and if he wasn't... he just needed to give the people that confirmation.

He took the knife and gutted it into the fish, cleaning it out until it was just the meat on its bones. It was a chilly day, enough to have the dog cuddled up on Daryl's leg as he gutted the fish. Daryl didn't mind the cold, he actually liked it better than the heat and it kept the dead away better. He continued his work, frying the fish on the fire as he poked at it softly, mesmerized by the crackles of the fire.

Suddenly a branch snapped behind Daryl, he didn't hesitate in pulling his crossbow from next to him and pointing it at the sound, ready to fire at any minute. He almost squeezed the trigger, almost letting the arrow go right into the head of his attacker. But suddenly his eyes made out who it was and realized it was you. His body feels relaxed but only to be filled with annoyance.

"It's just me!" You put your hands up in surrender, dropping what you had been holding in your hands.

Daryl watched as you shook, fearing that Daryl might actually shoot you at that moment. Daryl sighed, putting down his crossbow and rolling his eyes.

"Damn it, girl! I coulda killed you!" Daryl yelled. Of course, the first time he talks in days is to scold you for something.

Daryl sat back down in his spot, throwing down his crossbow in anger as he went back to cooking his fish. He suddenly wished he would've pulled the trigger, maybe then he could tell everyone it was an accident.... as if anyone could miss you. If Daryl said he hated you, it was an understatement. He despised you, he wondered how you survived this long without a bullet to your head.

"I know... I'm sorry.." You tried to defend yourself. "Carol asked me to drop some stuff off... I didn't mean to scare you.."

You bent down to gather what you had in your hands, the bag you had broken when you dropped it. You shoved everything in the bag and stood up, standing still as you watched Daryl cook his fish. You never knew why Daryl couldn't stand you, it made you a bit sad at first because you envied him. You thought he was the coolest person ever, with his crossbow and his motorcycle. Part of you thought it was because you genuinely thought he was a cool person but the other half knew it was because of what he did to your underwear.

"Carol told me to bring you more arrows and some extra clothes... I threw some food...." You went to finish but Daryl was annoyed by your voice already, wanting you to shut up and leave already.

"Why couldn't she do it?" He interrupted

You forgot how much of an asshole he was and at that moment, you were kind of glad he was staying out here instead of in Alexandria. The only reason you liked him staying at Alexandria is how his arms looked when he was working on his bike... but that's all it was to you, just a silly little crush or not even that, you'd be more than okay if he fucked you and dipped. You cleared your throat, collected your words, and shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh well... Henry is sick, he has some kind of stomach bug and well I was at the kingdom so she asked if I could bring it to you on the w..." Once again you can't even get your words out without Daryl being a complete dick to you.

"I didn't ask for a story." He said sternly, not even looking at you but you knew his face had that ugly, yet strangely arousing, annoyed look written all over it.

You sharply inhaled, slightly hurt at his words. You just stood there though, not sure what to do next. You could just throw his shit down or not and leave, but unfortunately, you were too tired to go on. You had been walking all day and here to Alexandria would be at least another 3 hours. You just thought maybe some rest would be nice, maybe a bit of that fish he was cooking but you knew Daryl.

Daryl hadn't liked you ever since you two had met, he was always such a dick to you and you had no idea why literally no idea. You were always respectful to him, saying please and thank you, sometimes shooting him a soft smile when you would catch each other in the same room. He always put you down so fast, sometimes just his facial expression when he would look at you was enough for you to go home crying.

"You can leave now, you did your job." He pulled you out of your thoughts.

His eyes still didn't reveal themselves to you, but you knew the stank eye he'd be giving you right now. The thought of it just made your stomach do turns, but the thing you were about to ask made it drop completely.

"That's the thing... you know it's getting late, by the time I get back on the main roads it'll be pitch black, and well I've been walking all..." You don't even know why you keep trying to explain anything to him at this point.

"Get to the point.." He said, annoyance dripping from his mouth. You sighed and rolled your eyes, standing up straight so you could at least look like you were not about to cry or throw a tantrum.

"I was wondering if I could stay here for the night... I'll be out of your hair by dawn tomorrow." You pleaded almost, which made you cringe a bit.

Daryl stayed silent for a minute, just poking at the fire softly as he rubbed the dog's head. Daryl almost gagged at the thought of you staying with him, even just for a night. It reminded him of when you guys were on the road together with everyone else, you always ended up sleeping next to him and he hated it. You would take up such a little room but Daryl felt like that was more than you needed, he would huff and puff. Not to mention how tight his pants would get when we saw you in only a tank top, how your breasts would push themselves together as you snored softly. How your pretty lips would part themselves, almost as if you were teasing him even in your sleep.

Daryl thought for a minute, he really didn't want you here. Your presence would just be so irritating to Daryl, he would know you were only 2 feet away from him at all times and that frustrated Daryl. You would be prancing around his safe space, breast sticking out, voice laced with sugar as you spoke, and presenting your ass to Daryl while you picked something up. The thought made Daryl go cold and he wanted to kick you out then and there. Call Daryl old-fashioned but he was against kicking out a young girl for safety just because of one's annoyance.

"Ya, you will be..." Daryl stated, standing up and making his way over to you, snatching the bag from your hand. "You can stay for the night... but you're gonna have to give me your weapons for the night and you owe me half of your food."

Fucking asshole... is all you could think of. You hated him, so fucking much it hurt. You have no idea what you had done to this man to make him hate you so much, it doesn't make sense to you but you needed some rest. You handed him your bag and watched him sit back down in the same spot, digging into the bag Carol had packed.

"Thank you, Daryl. I ap..." You decided at this moment to stop trying to speak.

"And no talking... I don't want to hear anything you gotta say, ya hear me?" He scolded, containing his digging into the bag.

"yes sir..." You bit back, trying your best not to start yelling at him about how childish he was being.

You brushed past Daryl to get some water from the river so you could get away from Daryl. Daryl's dick twitched at your use of "sir", he couldn't help the goosebumps that rose from his skin. He watched you walk your way down to the river, watching your tits bounce as you stormed off. He hated you with a burning passion but he couldn't deny that you had beautiful tits.

-

-

You couldn't sleep, you were so tired before you went to this shit show of a camp but now you couldn't sleep. You tossed and turned, the tent walls feeling like they were going to close on you. You could hear Daryl poking at the fire outside, trying to keep it burning as he kept an eye out. Daryl made you take the tent, he said he'd sleep outside with the dog, and that bothered you a bit.

Daryl was always so mean to you, literally telling you he wished you would fall off a cliff yet he gives you the tent? Maybe you were reading too deep into it, trying everything to believe your lie that he had an ounce of care for you in him. But that was odd behavior for someone like Daryl, especially towards you. That's why you think you can't sleep, not only did Daryl make you want to bawl your eyes out with how mean he was but also you were so confused about your own feelings.

You wanted to hate Daryl, you said you did but really you didn't. Every mean thing he said to you should've been enough for anyone to hate another person, but you simply couldn't. You wanted him to like you, you craved it. Every time you tried to be nice or help him with something, you felt like a teenage girl trying to get the attention of a boy. It was exhausting, but so frustrating. This behavior of his only created a fire in your belly, leaking out of your core.

The frustration of the day could only be dulled in one way, the warmth of your two fingers. It was a nightly ritual at this point, I mean at least Daryl's behavior is beneficial in one way right? But you couldn't do it in this tent that felt so suffocating, with Daryl's scent everywhere and his soft blanket against your bare thighs. No, you couldn't. It was gross, almost disgusting to do such a thing, especially for you.

You finally gave up on sleep, pulling your shorts back on and heading out of the tent. The wind hit you first, then the smoke of the fire, and then the eyes of Daryl. He looked already so annoyed, like just your presence was enough for him to be in a shitty mood. You smiled at him, pulling your jacket closer to your body as you sat down on the log in front of him.

"Couldn't sleep..." You whispered, sighing as you looked deep into other fires.

Daryl didn't make an expression towards that, only the same annoyed expression. Daryl couldn't help but watch your thighs out of the corner of his eye, watching them glow in the fire, making them look completely delicious. He tried to focus on keeping the fire alive but the hardening in his pants was almost impossible to ignore. He's never really had alone time with you, not one on one before, there was always another person so this was new to him. Honestly even more annoying like this because he could only imagine fucking you into the dirty ground, not able to escape these thoughts by annoying someone else.

"And why's that my problem?" He snapped back, his voice thick with tiredness and frustration.

You scoffed, looking at him with disbelief as your heart broke a little more. You were now at peak frustration and extremely exhausted, so you weren't going to just sit there and let it happen... not this time. You shook with anger, the wind doing nothing to cool you down. You just wanted to have a nice conversation with him, social interaction that you desperately needed from a day of being consumed by your own thoughts.

"You are such a dick you know that?" You spit out, your arms throwing themselves up as you let your anger out finally. "Jesus! I can't have one fucking conversation without you being such an asshole."

Daryl's blood goes cold, looking over at you as your eyes start tearing up due to your anger. He's never seen you so angry, he's never known that you cry when you get mad, he finds it... attractive. It makes his mind wander to what else makes you cry. Is there any emotion you feel too much? Do you cry? Or is this situation just that distressing to you? Daryl just stayed silent, finding it almost humorous how you actually cared what he thought and how worked up you were getting over it. You waited for a snarky reply or a cold comment about how annoying you were, but you were met with his cold blue eyes boring into your skin. That was it, that was enough to make you decide to pack up your stuff and get the hell out of there.

"Oh my fucking god... fuck you, Daryl, I mean seriously." You shot up from where you had been sitting and stood above him, the fire illuminating your furrowed brows and bloodshot eyes. "I mean are you fucking kidding me?!? why do you hate me? did I do something or are you just that fucking mean?"

Daryl stared up at you, watching you shiver as the wind hit your bare legs. Daryl asked himself that a lot too, why did he hate you? You really did do nothing to him, you were honestly extremely helpful and probably the kindest person he'd ever met. But that made him so upset. The innocence that radiated off of you, the pureness in your eyes, almost as if the world hadn't gotten to you yet. He found it unfair, how you were who you were in this world, it wasn't fair. The annoying sweetness that coated your voice was enough for him to go insane, he hated it.

That was only part of the hatred he felt for you, he wanted to completely defile you. He wanted to take that innocent little act of yours and fuck it out of you, he wanted to shut your silky soft voice up by fucking your voice box so hard it leave you speechless, wanted to crave scars into your skin as you begged him for more. He found these thoughts truly disgusting to even think, his own mind scolding him for letting the thoughts linger. He hated you for making him this crazy, making him so hard at night he couldn't be satisfied with his own hand he had to have you... so now he sat there looking up at you, watching as tears filled your eyes and your bare thighs were exposed.

Daryl grinned at your reaction, slowly standing up so he was towering over you. You looked scared, eyes filled with worry now as he made his way over to you. He was face to face with you now, you could feel his breath on his face and his eyes full of something... it wasn't anger, wasn't sadness, something in between yet not anywhere near.

"Ya' know, I do hate you Y/N" He says simply, making your bottom lip tremble as your tears finally escape your eyes. You knew it but it still hurt. "Ya' wanna know why or are you going to cry like the little bitch you are?"

His words took you back, this was a new all-time low for Daryl but for some reason, his words flew straight to your core and you had to press your legs together to ignore it. You stayed silent, not really knowing if you wanted to know or not but you had a feeling you had no choice. Daryl was going to tell you and all you could do was listen. You're breath hitched, wiping your tears with your sleeve as you watch him go to speak.

"I think yer stupid, and annoying, and a fucking worthless bitch who shouldn't have made it this far." His words shot bullet holes in your heart. "We shoulda left you where we found you. Ya bring no good into this group, you only hold us back."

You let out a sob, your heart quite literally being torn apart but you were still so needy all at once. You were used to mean, you were used to hurt but this felt nowhere close to what you've experienced before. You had gotten more frustrated simply because you still liked Daryl, you honestly would give anything for him to kiss you and it made your lips burn with need. It felt like your head was going to explode, being degraded and loving every second of it was something you never thought you would be thinking at this moment.

"Ya wanna know something else..." Daryl whispered, taking his hand and pushing your hair back out of your face as tears streamed down your face. He then lifted your chin to force you to look at him. "It's annoying how you act all innocent... prancing around in short shorts with your tits hanging out, acting like you aren't just trying to get fucked."

You look into his blue eyes, trembling as you feel his hand placed on your chin. You didn't realize how close you had gotten to him, how your body was almost pressed against his as he degraded you. You let a couple of soft whimpers out, feeling as Daryl wiped a tear away from your eye as he bites his lip.

"Ain't that right hm? All ya ever really wanted was to get fucked, just wanted to be used?" He spit out, you let out a soft moan as he continued to rest his hand on your chin, his heat filling your body. "want me to fuck ya?"

Your eyes widened, feeling like you were in a dream and you would wake up at any moment. You looked between his eyes and mouth as he spoke, his lips feeling like the only thing that could dull this heat inside of you. You nodded softly, biting your lip as you watched his mouth grow into a smirk. You expected him to place a soft kiss on your lips as he bent down to connect your lips, but you were met with a sharp pain in your left cheek. You gasped, not knowing what happened but then realized Daryl had smacked you. He didn't smack you too hard but it was enough to leave you in shock.

"wh..." You went to say but Daryl grabbed your throat roughly, it was a firm grip but not enough to hurt you.

"Use yer words... or are you too dumb for that?" He spits out, his words making your legs wobble slightly.

You felt lightheaded, you felt dizzy, you felt completely content in where you were right now. It was a crazy feeling, a feeling that was so intense it made you want to cry. You sniffled, clearing your throat so you could respond but the words were stuck in your throat. Daryl's eyes looked down on you with impatience, his teeth softly clenched as he waited for your words, the words he knew were hard for you to say.

"I...umm" You stuttered, lips quivering. "I want you.. to fuck me" You stated

Sex was new to you still, especially now since sex was the last thing on your mind half the time. This kind of sex, however, rough and mean sex was completely new to you. You weren't sure what to do or how to do it, do you mean back or do you just let it happen and enjoy the ride? You trusted Daryl though, no matter how mean he was to you, you still knew he wouldn't hurt you. Daryl smirked down at you, his rough hand still grasping onto your soft neck.

Daryl only knew hard sex, he'd never been in love or wanted to be in love so he was going to fuck you the only way he knew. He bent down to your lips, softly lingering above yours. You tried to reach up and touch his lips to yours but his hand on your neck kept you in place. Instead, he placed his lips on your nose, then your forehead then everywhere on your face but your lips. You were melting, just one kiss and you would be happy... you begged for just one kiss.

"How 'bout ya get in the tent hm?" He finally said after teasing you with his lips. "I'll be in, in a minute."

Daryl smirked down at you, letting go of your neck which was the only thing supporting your body right now. You looked surprised but also irritated as he teased you and not made you get into the tent. You huffed, rolling your eyes as you stomped into the tent. Daryl chuckled as you pouted, watching you stomp your feet to the tent. Daryl turned around and finished his fire poking, keeping it heated, making you wait.

You were pouting in the tent, arms crossed as you waited for him to come in. You couldn't sit still, you pressed your thighs together and tried to touch yourself through your jeans but nothing helped the ache. You were suddenly so hot, feeling like your skin was melting off in the small tent so you decided to take your shirt off and let the cool air consume it. You slowly started to tear each of your clothes off until you were only in your underwear and bra, you were about to take your bra off but Daryl had ripped through the tent and saw you. He was taken aback as he saw your bare body, not expecting it and it made him crazy.

You sat there like a deer in headlights as he stared down at you, hands suddenly laying at your thighs as you were just on your knees. Daryl's hand shook, wanting nothing more than to pounce on you already but he wanted to wait... he needed to wait. He got down on your level, the tent too small for him to stand in. He reached his hand out to your shoulder, placing his hand on it and slowly pulling down your bra strap. His touch made you shiver, goosebumps forming on your skin as he slowly undressed you or undressed what you had on still.

"You might be dumb..." He stated, bring his lips to your neck. "But you sure are fucking sexy..."

He then attacked your neck, giving you sloppy kisses on your skin as you softly moaned at his action. His other hand placed on your older shoulder and ripped your other bra strap down, attacking that side of your neck next. Your hands wandered his body, trying to pull him closer to you as you wanted him to touch you further. His soft lips sucked on your sensitive skin, making you squirm underneath his grasp.

"mm.. fuck.." You moaned out, causing Daryl to go crazy. He couldn't hold back himself anymore, he couldn't tease you or degrade you anymore. He needed you.

"Fuck it..." Daryl said, stopping his movements and lying down on his back.

You watched him wide as, watching as he pulled his pants down to his ankles and how his cock sprang out freely. Your mouth watered almost, wanting nothing more than to such him off and watch him unravel on your tongue. Daryl rubbed himself a bit, trying to have some friction while he waited for you. You forgot what you were doing at first, you're mind completely going blank as you watched him touch himself.

You were slightly worried, Daryl was big... a lot bigger than you thought he would be. You felt a bit nervous about how’d he fit, you were quite small, well at least a lot smaller than Daryl. Daryl continued rubbing himself up and down, watching you shiver at the thought of him being inside you. He could see how nervous you had gotten, how shy you had suddenly become as your thighs squeezed together.

"You okay?" He asked, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to his blue eyes. "We can stop, pretend this didn't happen." He reassures, placing a hand on your arm comfortably.

You gave him a small smile, moving your body on top of his. You replaced his hand with your own as you slowly jerked him off, watching his mouth part open in surprise as you did so. Your sudden confidence was a huge turn-on for Daryl, causing him to become unbelievably hard under your grasp. This is what Daryl wanted from you, he wanted you to stop acting innocent and take what you wanted. You were meek and shy, you simply doing this was so out of character.

"You want me to stop?" You ask, watching Daryl grow harder as you stroked his cock up and down.

Daryl shot you a soft smile, pulling you down to connect your lips to his. It was hard, rough, and filled with passion. The feeling of your hand on his cock, the taste of your lips, and the feeling of your weight on top of him. He needed you, needed to see you bouncing on top of him as he ripped you open. He wanted to see the pain and pleasure wash over you until you went as crazy as he is at this moment, he would give the world just to see it.

"Fuck no... god..." He moaned out, as your hand's pace picked up. "Ride my cock sweet girl... wanna see how dirty you can get." He teased me.

You giggled at his words, but they went all to your core at once. A wave of slick escaped your cunt, dripping over Daryl's thighs. You gave into his needs, but you did it ever so carefully. You moved your waist to hover over his throbbing cock, his tip ever so slightly rubbing between your slit. You teased him slightly, almost putting his tip inside you but slipping it out once again. You could tell he was growing frustrated, you can see him hold back his urge to push you down on his cock. You could get off on this, his head softly massaging your cunt and his thrust up when it had reached your clit. You continued this movement, teasing him softly but in reality, it felt too good for you.

"Gonna get yourself in trouble if you keep it up..." He moaned out, moving his hands to your hips. His hands helped you move your body back and forth, the head of his cock nuzzling between your slits.

"feels so good..." You whisper, biting your lip softly. "The least you can do for being an a..." You forgot who you were with, the person who never lets you finish your sentence.

You were cut off by Daryl taking your hips, pushing them down until his cock was damn near bottomed out inside you. You let out a gasp, hunching over so your nails were dug into his chest. It hurt, it felt like you were being ripped open... but it sent a strange pain throughout your body. Inside of rejecting his cock, your body welcomed it, almost as if it's what you needed this entire time. You shook slightly, the head of his cock already hitting your g spot as you stayed still. Your body was still getting used to it, but every bone of your body craved you to move your hips. Daryl chuckled softly as your eyes prickled with tears and your string of curses filled the tent.

"Told ya... dumb slut never listens" Daryl spit out, sitting up so your hands could balance on his shoulders.

He didn't give you time to say anything else, he took it upon himself to help you get used to him. He thrusted his hips up, creating more pain/pleasure that coursed through your body. It was a delicious stink, creating screams like moans that flowed off your tongue. His hips started off slow, obviously not that much of an asshole to completely overwhelm your senses. He placed one hand on our waist, going between hard thrusts and rolling his hips to try to ease the sting.

After a few thrusts though, you get used to his cock stuffing your cunt and you feel yourself getting eager. You start to move your hips a little with his, your hips going against his own hips because you were so cock hungry you couldn't help yourself. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving moon-shaped cuts along them. Your head threw itself back, letting Daryl fuck you harshly as you just enjoyed the ride. You would be surprised if your moans didn't attract walkers or raiders... they were almost screams at this point.

"Gonna fuck the dumb slut out of you... huh?" He started, moving his hand up to your hair and pulling it down to look at him. "Ain't that right... gonna fuck this pussy until that stupid little brain of yours start working.."

His hand in your hair forced you to look at him, his eyes blown out as he fucked your cunt so harshly, you couldn't help but drool. You shook slightly, something inside you snapped as you watched him huff and puff. Your hips suddenly had a mind of their own, they start rolling against his roughly, your eyes on his the entire time as you fuck yourself on his cock. You couldn't help it, your stomach burned and your cunt ached as you so badly wanted to get off. Your thrusts were rough, overpowering daryls at this point.

Daryl was taken back by this action, his hips starting to slow down as you created your own pace and your own way of fucking him. Daryl's hands rested on your hips though, helping you set a pace that felt good for the both of you but also let you take complete control. He never knew how pretty you could be, I mean of course he thought you were hot as fuck but he would never describe you as pretty... until now. The way you took him deep inside of you, the way your cunt clenched around him... maybe those were factors of why his view of you changed but maybe it went further than that.

Your thighs burned, your cunt ached, and your frustration grew. You so desperately wanted to get off, so your thrust was all over the place. You would start harder and deeper then your stamina would weaken, your thrusts turning slow and drawn out. It felt like it was happening on a loop, your frustration getting the best of you. Daryl's hands do a decent job setting your pace, but not enough to actually do anything. Daryl enjoyed this though, watching your frustration grow as you greedily tried to get off.

"Fuck... Daryl..." You groaned out, you couldn't even form words at this point. His cock hitting so deep inside you, it affects your speech. "please... I can't..."

Daryl grinned, hearing your pleas but basking in them. He brushed your hair from your face, loving the sight of your tears flowing down your face due to frustration and pleasure. He watched as you glistened in the moonlight, your skin beet red and your body soaked with sweat. Your hips slowed, still rocking back and forth but the pain in your hips felt unbearable now. You gave Daryl a pleading look, hoping he'd just be nice to you and give you what you wanted.

Daryl wasn't nice though, you knew this when you came into this. Daryl had disgusting things in mind for you, things that would leave you bruised and bloody. Daryl didn't know what nice was, especially when it came to fucking a "dumb slut". You fluttered your eyes at Daryl, your eyes telling him everything you wanted from him.

"What?" He asked, acting completely oblivious to what you wanted. "Can the dumb slut not get herself off? hmm..." He teased me.

You gulped down a comeback, afraid if you do he won't give you what you want. Daryl grinned, taking the hand in your hair and slowly moving it to your throat until it was wrapped around it. He gripped it hard, bringing your face down to meet him as he applied pressure to it.

"You are really that fucking stupid huh... Jesus christ." He spit out, watching you squirm above him, his cock still nestled deep inside you. "Fucking useless.."

You loved every second of his torment, of his degradation, of his anger. In one swift moment, Daryl threw you down onto the rough tent floor. You moaned softly, his cock being yanked out of your mouth and leaving you empty. Daryl wasn't done, he grabbed you roughly and set you on your hands and knees.

"I gotta do everything for you... too fucking stupid to do anything for yourself." He said, pushing your back down as he held your ass up. "Can't even ride a fucking cock right..."

Daryl rubbed your ass gently, watching you grip the blanket that was laid down for a makeshift bed. He dragged his fingers down your slit, feeling your throbbing cunt but dragging them back up to your ass. He could get off right now, cumming all over your back and drenching you with cum, seeing you like this just did that to him. He laid his hand flat down on your ass, putting it back high and then slamming it down on your bare ass.

You gasped, being shot forward as he spanked you. You weren't expecting it, the pain of the smack shooting through your veins and suddenly you wanted him to do it again. Never in your sexual life have you ever been spanked or slapped or degraded, it was something you could get used to. Daryl placed his hand on the red print on your ass, rubbing it softly as he watched your reaction to it. He knew it was foreign to you and he wanted to make sure you didn't have any objections to what he was doing. He leaned down slowly, kissing behind your ear and whispering into your ear.

"Are ya' still okay? We can stop now..." He wanted to hurt you but in the most pleasant and consensual way.

You took a minute to get a response, not because you had any second thoughts about what was happening. No, the silence was because you knew this would change you forever. This wouldn't just be a crush anymore, it would be more real. Even if Daryl just wanted a quick fuck, you would look at him differently whether you wanted to or not. If he did just want a quick fuck, you would feel as though you have been led on... because you did like him, and if that's all he wanted then it would break your heart. You look up at Daryl, watching as he gives you soft kisses on your back and neck. Fuck it...

"Again...." You whispered out, his eyes surprised you even said anything. He thought he was being too much, that he was going too far. He had no idea you were enjoying this as much as he did...

You felt too good right now for him to stop now, your stomach completely tensed up and your cunt fluttered around nothing. You needed him in the most disgusting way possible Daryl didn't see a single twinkle of doubt in your eyes, you knew what you wanted and you wanted him to give it to you. Daryl smiled at you, not a shit-eating grin or that stupid smirk... an actual smile.

Daryl raised the hand on your ass again, bringing it down roughly on your ass. You shot forward again, feeling your cunt tighten around nothing once more. Daryl waited once again for you to come back to him before he did it once more. The smacks got faster and harder, each one sending more amounts of pleasure through your body and bringing you closer to the edge. Your moans only fueled the fire in the diary, wanting nothing more than to completely destroy you.

After a couple more smacks, Daryl lined himself up behind you. This time he would be a bit nicer, slowly inching himself in and letting your tight cunt adjust to him. He watched your mouth open slightly, eyes squeezed shut, hands gripping onto anything they could find. Daryl rubbed your back with his free hand, slowly pushing himself into you until he was completely inside of you. Each inch you took made your eyes roll into your eyes and your toes curl.

Daryl started his thrusts slowly, watched you come undone on his cock already and he was just getting started. He watched as the coil in your stomach snapped and felt it when your walls fluttered around him, your liquid coating his cock. He fucked you through your first orgasm, picking up his pace when you couldn't feel your cunt flutter around his cock anymore. Daryl was Edgar to cum but also to make you cum over and over until you couldn't say anything else but his name.

"Fuck... such a tight fucking pussy..." He moaned out, grabbing your hips and shoving them down on his cock. "Could fuck this thing all day.... use you like my own fucktoy."

You could feel another wave of pleasure hit you, the coil in your stomach tightening once again. Daryl was rough with his thrust now, shoving himself into you before pulling all the way back and then slamming back in. It felt so good, making your entire body feel like it was on fire in the most pleasant way. Suddenly, not even 2 minutes after your first orgasm... You felt the coil snap once again, soaking Daryl's cock for a second time.

Daryl didn't slow down, just went harder as you screamed out as you came... hard. He gripped your hips roughly, leaving bruises on them most likely. You went completely limp, allowing him to use you exactly in the way he wanted to. You were exhausted, after two orgasms only minutes away from each other and working on your third one...You were completely worn out and wanting nothing more than another orgasm. Daryl watched you go limp, your ass having to be held up by him now.

"Come on baby...." He moaned, grabbing your arms and pulling you flush against him. "Gonna make me cum... gonna cum all over that fucking pretty ass of yours..."

His words only make your cunt tighten around his cock. You were standing on your knees in front of him, your knees digging into the tent floor as your head leaned back on his shoulder. You looked up at him with tired eyes, face bright red and your eyes leaking tears. You watched his face contort every time he thrusted, his lip being brought between his teeth and his eyes fluttering closed. He was beautiful, every muscle of his stomach placed on your back, his cock deep inside you, and his face looked to be sculpted by gods themselves.

Daryl's moans got louder, his cock twitched slightly and you could feel he was close just by the way he gripped onto your arms. You tried your best to fuck yourself back onto him as his thrusts became sloppy, wanting to fuck him through his own orgasm. Daryl was so close, his bruising grip on your arms as he pulled you closer and closer to him. You were right there next to him, your third orgasm already coursing through your stomach as you so desperately tried to help get you both off.

"daryl..." was the only thing you could get out, the other dirty words you had in mind getting lost in your throat as a particularly harsh thrust caused the coil in your stomach to burst open.

You shook violently as you came once again on his cock but you could only enjoy it for only seconds before Daryl let go of your arms, causing you to fall harshly onto the tent floor. You groaned, your orgasm still coursing through your body as you felt the ache of being dropped on the floor. You looked back to see why Daryl had done what he did, seeing that he was stroking his cock roughly. You watched as he came on your ass and back, his O face looking like something from your dreams.

You couldn't be mad now, not that you were able to see him in his high. When he finished covering you in his cum, he collapsed next to you. He breathed heavily as if he had just run a marathon and all you could do was watch him in awe. You would touch yourself to the thought of him, but nothing could've prepared you for how pretty he looked while doing it. He was on another planet at this moment, not even in this world as he recovered from his orgasm.

"fuck..." He said, his voice raspy and thick with exhaustion. "You're gonna be a problem..."

Daryl knew he shouldn't have done this, he should've just let you leave.... he should've just told you to leave in the first place. He knew once he had you vulnerable, ass up and ready for him to fuck you... he wouldn't be able to resist. He knew you'd become like a drug to him, he wanted to continue to hate you and live both of your lives separately, away from each other. There was just something about you, something about you that not only made his cock twitch but his heart. He always had a soft spot for you, he hated it.

You were still on your knees, back covered in his cum and the top half of you smushed against the ground. You just watched him come down from his high, not responding to him as he slowly came to his senses. Daryl looks back over at you, seeing you in a very uncomfortable position and sticky...

"Here..." He said, sitting up and finding a discarded rag that was always in his tent.

You slowly sat up on your knees, taking the rag he had handed to you. You smiled, nodding softly as to thank him simply because your voice box was damn near broken from screaming. You reached behind you, taking the rag and wiping him off of you. Daryl started getting some blankets together to make a bed for the both of you, hoping that wasn't crossing a line for you... as if he didn't just fuck the shit out of you. You struggled to get the entirety of your back, Daryl noticed this as he was setting down blankets.

Without saying a word, Daryl took the rag from you and gently wiped your back off. You hummed softly as he did so, the warmth of his hands making you feel giddy once again. You wanted to say something, anything just to get him talking again. His voice always makes you feel right at home, even if most of the time he was a dickhead to you.

"You know.." You said, voice coming out as a whisper. "I've never done something like this before..."

You looked back at him, his eyes focused on your back as he tried to make sure you were cleaned all the way off. Daryl knew, he knew you were the innocent type, that's why he was so intrigued with you. He smirked softly up at you, seeing how messy your hair was and how your tears were now stained on your face created a deep lust inside of him.

"I know..." He responded, going back to cleaning your back.

"You know?" You asked, knowing you looked innocent but how could he tell you haven't been railed like this before?

Daryl chuckled softly, throwing the rag somewhere in the room when he was done and then smacking your thigh softly to tell you to move yourself. You did what he wanted, sitting on your butt as you watched what he wanted you to do next. Daryl bit his lip, tossing you one of his shirts that was going to be big on you. You assumed he wanted it for you.

"You never do what you're told... Lay down." He started, watching you lay down like he told you to do. He smirked softly before continuing. "and you have only been with skinny 20-year-olds who probably went to some college for rich assholes.."

Daryl pulls his own clothes on before lying down next to you. He wrapped a blanket around the two of you, letting you lay on his chest as he did so. What Daryl was saying was very true, you had never been with a man his age or really any man that acted like him. You weren't the adventurous type, you were okay with vanilla sex and scheduled quickies. It was easy that way, easier to explain the age gap, and easier to digest the PDA. You didn't know if you could go back to that now, after 3 mind-blowing orgasms and the delicious size of Daryl... you could see yourself chasing this for the rest of your life.

"Maybe... I'd like to... uh..." You started, sighing softly. "I'd like to do this again though... I think I want to do it with you many times."

Your words felt jumbled, not making any sense. Daryl knew though, he knew what you were saying even if your words felt confusing. Daryl rubbed your arm softly with his thumb, thinking about what a life with you would be like. Waking up every day to a naked young woman in his bed, soft skin, and doe eyes for the rest of his existence with you... Even if he could only have you in the bedroom, he would move the sun and stars just for it. He nodded softly, looking back down at you as you lulled yourself to sleep on his chest.

"Yeah... think I'd like that too," he whispered. 

[samkerrworshipper]

simce u asked for blurbs i have some ideas xxxx

leah x reader where reader gets her tongue or belly button pierced without telling leah

leah x reader where leah gets jealous of reader for having to do a media day vid with a touchy male player

awfc x reader where reader and kyra are just pranksters (cuz i loved sticker charts sm 🥹🥹🥹)

DONT FEEL PRESSURE TO DO THESE BTW! but if this helps then perfect 🥰🥰🥰

tongue twister | lw6 x reader blurb

it’s short, it’s sweet, it’s the only thing getting me out of my writers block lol

warnings: minor sexual implications and maybe some minor swearing

———————————————————————

It’s fairly normal routine for Leah to beeline straight towards you after any trip that includes her leaving for longer than 24 hours. Hell, the girl always seeks you out even after she’s gotten home after a two gotten home after a two hour training session but she’s always especially clingy after being on international camp.

It’s worsened significantly since her return from her acl injury, considering that for months she hardly had to leave your side.

So it’s no surprise that before Leah even takes her shoes off she’s rushing into your kitchen, her luggage bag long forgotten at the front door as she tumbled through the entrance hallway and into the kitchen.

You were seated at the island bench, typing away lazily at a work document to pass time.

Your eyes perked up as soon as the blonde entered the room, a big smile settling along your features at the sight of your rugged up Leah. It still gave you the chills that the woman standing in front of you, leah williamson, was all yours. She told you every single day that she was the lucky one in the relationship, but you couldn’t have disagreed more, leah was perfect, in every single way.

“Hiya love.”

Leah stays standing in the doorway, her eyes trained to you, a big smile splashed across her face.

“Hello Le.”

The woman closed the distance between the two of you, her tongue between her teeth as she approached.

“Missed you.”

It’s a statement, not meant for you to reply just a hanging reminder that these weeks that you spend apart are just as hard for you as it is her.

So you nod, flash her another smile before letting your eyes fall back to the bright screen in front of you.

Leah sits down on the seat beside you, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Honey.”

Her voice is slightly whiny, the voice Leah uses when she wants something that apparently should be obvious but you aren’t giving it to her for whatever reason.

“Yes, Leah?”

You look up from your screen briefly, taking in Leah’s needy face, her lips puckered directly towards you.

“Where’s my welcome home kiss?”

It was customary that whenever Leah came home you gave her a kiss, but this particular time you were a little bit tentative… for other reasons.

“Someone’s a bit needy.”

Leah reached over and pressed your laptop closed, removing the potential distraction.

“I always get a welcome home kiss… I’m waiting.”

You roll your eyes, it’s typical for Leah’s first priority to be a fucking kiss, it’s something that you’ve come to love, no matter what’s happening in either of your lives when she gets home, you always connect like this together.

“How was my day? Thanks for asking, it was great, went for a run, cooked up some food for you to meal plan this week, watched some shows, got a jumpstart on the gym plans for the team this week and hammered out a roster.”

Leah’s gives you a massive eye roll, her hand extending to the back of your neck, looking deep into your soul as her face hovers a couple of centimetres away from you.

“Baby, you know i love you, give me a kiss, please.”

It wasn’t like Leah to be so needy, you blamed it on the fact that you’d been ‘sick’ in her absence, which had her feeling especially guilty for leaving you.

“Why don’t you give me one?”

The challenge is enough to strike up Leah’s competitive nature, something you frequently take advantage of in all parts of your relationship.

Leah leant forward without any hesitation, her lips capturing yours and immediately melting against your skin. This was the part you were anxious about, but regardless you let her take dominance of the kiss, her bottom lip molding against your top one as she slowly synchronised the movement.

It didn’t take very long at all for Leah to get greedy, her tongue finding the notch between your bottom lip and top, gently prodding for an opening, something you awarded her with ease.

Leah tasted like peppermint gum and black coffee, a flavour that melted in your mouth. You were counting down the seconds, as Leah explored your mouth, curious as to how long it would take for her to notice.

4 seconds, 4 seconds of her tongue reaquanting itself with the roof of your mouth and then twisting and tangling itself with your own to discover what you knew she was bound to.

It felt like she was digging for treasure that you’d hidden.

The gasp that she breathed into you almost immediately was capturing a short little exhale of hot air directly into your mouth. Leah prodded at it twice more, checking, making sure before she disconnected herself from you, her eyebrows perched high on her forehead as she blinked a few times in surprise.

“Open your mouth.”

If you were in a more playful mood you probably would have said some kind of obscene joke, but you simply weren’t in the mood to mess around with Leah, especially with that glint in her eyes that was telling you so much and yet so little about how she was feeling.

So without much arguement at all, you opened your mind up wide, allowing Leah to examine her previously discovered treasure.

Leah took her time having a look, even daring to tilt your head back to get a better angle on your new bling.

Once she was finally done she let go of your chin, releasing you and taking a step back, so you could look at her fully.

“I’m assuming it wasn’t tonsillitis that you had then?”

You chuckled lightly, it was a good cover up if you did say so yourself, something completely believable and so simple.

“Do you not like it?”

Leah’s eyes almost bursted out of her skull, her head shaking profusely at you.

“God baby, no, I am so ready for you to show me all the ways that little thing can do, maybe i’ll get me nips done next time for some more fun.”

Leah gave you a flashy wink, a movement that had her rewarded with a big eye roll from you.

“She’s fully healed, how about we go test it out?”

Leah smirked massively, reaching for your hips and lifting you up in to her arms.

“I like your thinking.”

[houseofanticipation]

It starts with a guy from work. You've seen him around before; you think he works in IT because he always seems to be at someone else's computer. But you've never spoken to him. You're not even sure if you've ever made eye contact with him.

You must have done something to attract his attention, though, because one day after work he follows you home. You notice him first on the bus. That's strange—you've never seen him on here before. Maybe he usually stays later than you, or maybe his car is in the shop. You wonder if you should say hello or something, but you decide against it. The guy probably wouldn't even recognize you.

It's a few minutes after disembarking the bus before you realize the guy has gotten off too. You hear sound behind you, maybe the scuff of a shoe on the sidewalk, and you turn to look. There he is, about a block behind you, walking intently toward you. Shit. This is not an accident, not some weird coincidence. This man is following you.

You speed up, and you hear him do the same. You glance back, and see he's gaining on you. He knows you're onto him now; he has no reason to be stealthy. Your house is only a block away, but at this pace he might catch up with you before then. . .

You break into a sprint. There's no use pretending now, this is a pursuit and you don't intend to be caught. You hear him give chase behind you, but you don't waste time on looking back. You get your keys ready as you run, so when you arrive at the door you have it open in five seconds flat.

Then he crashes into you. You fall together to the carpeted floor of your front hallway. He's on top of you, pinning you down, kicking the door closed behind him. You struggle, but he's surprisingly powerful for an IT guy; he pushes your head into the ground, rubbing the side of your face raw against the carpet as he roughly kisses your neck. He's grinding against your ass, and you can feel through his pants how hard he is. That's when you finally start screaming.

He hikes up your pencil skirt, grunting with sick lust. You beg him to leave you alone, tell him you'll give him money, give him whatever he wants. He pulls your panties aside, and you feel his lips brush your ear as he leans in close.

"All I want is you."

He rapes you raw, ramming his cock again and again into your unlubricated pussy. You scream in pain and fear and disgust, and soon he's taking you by the hips and pulling you into him, burying his cock as deep as it'll go as he fills you up with his foul seed. You stay there for a moment, the two of you: him savoring the feel of your pussy, you too broken to stop him. Then he pulls out, and moments later you hear the front door open and shut.

The guy goes to jail, eventually. You manage to scrape yourself off the floor, call the police. It's obvious to look at you that you've been assaulted, and the guy didn't bother to cover his tracks. At some point someone swabs your vagina, which is humiliating, but at that point you're too out of it to care much. When the case goes to court, the guy pleads guilty, says he knew there'd be consequences, but he decided it'd be worth it. He shoots you a wink across the courtroom. Says he was right.

You used to masturbate regularly. Just a bit of fun, a way to relax after a long day at work. You try it a few times after the incident, maybe trying to reclaim ownership of your own body, but it no longer seems to do anything for you. You use your fingers, your vibrators, your dildo, but none of them work. You can still feel them, you know they should feel good, but touching your pussy now feels no different than touching your hand. Any sensation of sexual pleasure is gone.

But you're still horny. Maybe hornier than you were before. Your pussy gets wet at nothing, and something deep in your groin aches for an orgasm. Trying to make yourself cum becomes almost an obsession. You spend hours every evening watching every variety of porn you can find, going to town on yourself with every toy in your arsenal, and some new ones you pick up just to try. You pick up guys in bars, fuck them in bathrooms or back alleys, but each encounter just ends with you moaning performatively, telling them how good they feel, and letting them cum inside you just to get it over with. After six months you're so horny that you sometimes have trouble thinking straight, and you've pretty much resigned yourself to the fact that you're unlikely ever to cum again.

And then a man gropes you on the street.

It's broad daylight. You were already getting a bad vibe from him before he crossed the street, and now he's walking next to you, talking to you, asking if you want to go on a date, asking why you don't want to talk to him. Then, without warning, his hand is up your skirt, fingers snaking past your panties, violating you.

You have to press your knees together not to cum right there.

A few passersby pull him off you, throw him to the ground, someone is calling the police. But you don't have time to wait for the police. You have to get somewhere private, now. You duck into the nearest alley, crouch behind a dumpster to block the view from the street, and begin to masturbate furiously. Your fingers come away sloppy and wet, but you feel absolutely nothing. You cover your face with your hands and scream with frustration.

You try not to think about it. For a few long weeks you try to justify it, explain it away, but you know what you felt, and you know in your heart what finally did it. You wonder if it's even worth it, if an orgasm or two is really all that great, but you can't deny the affect this inability to cum is having your life: your work is slipping, your relationships deteriorating. You're lost in fantasies, imagining elaborate scenarios that might make you cum, knowing they never would. The more you think about it, the more you think you don't have any other choice.

One night you take the bus to a bad part of town. You leave your wallet, your keys, everything but the bus fare, at home. You wear an outfit you bought just for this: a skirt that barely covers three fourths of your ass. A shirt that flatters your cleavage, and lets your hard nipples poke out of the fabric. You consider going without panties, but you worry if you give too much invitation it won't work. You hope to god no one you know sees you like this; it's probably more skin than you've revealed publicly since you were a baby.

You walk past three men standing on a street corner. They whistle at you, invite you to let them show you a good time, but you keep walking. Your heart races as you hear them take up stride behind you; it's not that you want to be raped again, per se. You're terrified of being raped, in fact. But you need so desperately to cum that you're willing to ignore the fear, the humiliation, the pain. Tears stream down your face as you turn into an alley and quickly find it ends in a dead end. You turn around to face the men, who now block your exit.

"Come on, baby, you don't have to be like that," say the man in front. He looks like the oldest of the three, has a big bald spot and a belly that hangs over his belt. The other two are a little younger: one is broad and muscular and covered in tattoos, the other scrawny and nervous.

Without a word you approach the older man, one step at a time, trying not to let your knees wobble or your lips quiver. He snickers and makes a joke to his cronies, but you don't hear it—all you can hear is the blood pounding in your ears. You get in close, face to face with him, and he purses his lips in a taunting mock kiss. You spit full force in his face.

He wheels back, wiping his face. The other men look shocked, unsure exactly what to do, but he knows what to do. He knows exactly what to do. "You fucking bitch!" He's grabbing you by the throat, throwing you up against the wall, holding a knife to your throat. "You want to act like a cunt?" He lifts up your tiny skirt. "Then cunt is all you're good for."

It's like fireworks through your body the moment his fingers are in your pussy. You clench around him, involuntarily willing him further inside. An exultant moan forces itself through your lips before you can even think. This is not like any fingering ever was before, by your own hand or someone else's. This is a new height of pleasure, and you have a feeling this is only the beginning.

"This little slut is into it," says the man, almost in wonder. He turns to the scrawny guy. "Keep watch. This bitch needs to be taught a lesson."

He takes you by the neck again and throws you to the ground. You take a few ugly scrapes from the gravely asphalt, but you know now that this pain is minor compared to the reward it'll earn you. At the older man's instruction the tattooed guy holds you down, one hand holding both wrists over your head, the other pinning you to the ground by your throat. You struggle to breath, unable even to turn your head to see what's going on, but you don't need to wait long.

This rape is better than the last one. You never thought you'd be comparing rapes like some kind of connoisseur, but there it is. Face up is marginally more comfortable face down, and starting with your pussy already wet makes a world of difference. The older man has to lift his belly to get inside you, and once he's in he lets it roll over you like a smelly, hairy pillow. The feeling of him inside you is incredible. You thought you liked sex, but now you realize you had no idea what it was. You moan wildly, uncontrollably, and the more pleasure you feel the angrier your rapist gets. He thrusts like he's trying to beat you senseless, but it just makes it better, and before long you're cumming harder than you've ever cum in your life, screaming in ecstasy and thrashing violently against is pelvis. Maybe it's the motion, or maybe it's your pussy squeezing like it'll never let him go, but the man gives a strangled groan and shoots warm, lovely cum into the darkest recesses of your body.

You're still panting when the older man says to the other, "you gotta try this bitch." They trade places, and now the older man is holding you down, but he isn't as strong as other guy, so he has to hold his knife to your throat. The tattooed guy's cock is bigger than the other's, and the moment it's past your pussy lips you know you're going to cum again. This rape is harder; the guy has less to move, so he's able to pound you faster. You feel like his cock is splitting you open with every thrust, but the pain isn't really even pain anymore. It's just another part of the building orgasm. The knife nicks your skin (he's having trouble holding it still with all the thrashing you're doing) and you just squeal with delight. You're approaching another climax, so without really thinking about it you wrap your legs around the guy's waist and drive him right into you down to the balls, eyes rolling back as he fills you with your second load in the last ten minutes. He lets out a surprisingly soft whimper and runs his hands over your thighs, as if enjoying their softness.

The old guy calls the last one over, the scrawny one with the uncomfortable look on his face. The old guy tells him to fuck you. He looks nervously at you, and then back at his leader. Just to play with him, you start begging him, pleading him to let you go. "Don't do this to me. Please, I'm sorry, I won't tell anyone, please just let me go!" He looks like he's going to refuse until the old guy presses the knife into your neck, drawing a thin stripe of wet pain across your skin.

Stammering apologies, the guy pulls out his cock and climbs over you. You don't let him look away from your eyes, begging and telling him you know he's better than this, please, you know he's not like them, and he's inside you and you're screaming. Screaming like a rabbit caught in a trap, a long, piercing scream that erupts into uncontrollable fits of giddy laughter as you mount your third orgasm of the night.

You feel crazy. You feel like a feral animal. Some part of you wonders if you'll be able to go back to normal, go back to work tomorrow like none of this happened. The scrawny guy's cock is surprisingly big; it fills you up real nice. But he's not going hard enough. This is hardly even rape, it's just a sad fuck. You pull your tits out over the low-cut neckline of your shirt, give him something to look at, but all that happens is his cock gets a little harder. You need more.

Before you even quite know what you're doing, you throw yourself up at him. The knife cuts you as the old guy loses his grip on it, but you don't care. You roll on top of the scrawny guy and start fucking him like you need to be fucked, hard and fast and angry. In the spur of the moment you put your hand on his neck and bear down, watching his eyes bulge and his mouth open and close like a goldfish. You're just getting the idea that you should bite into his shoulder, tear something off him, when a pair of muscular arms hook under your armpits and pull you back.

You lose your grip on his neck, but the animal part of you refuses to give up his cock. Your legs lock underneath him, dragging him with you as the tattooed man tries to pull you away. He's close, you can feel it in the rhythm of his throbbing cock. Just a few more gyrations and. . .

When he explodes inside you it's like you can feel his cum swirling through your entire body, filling you up from the bottom to the top. A satisfied warmth washes over you and you let him go, torrents of cum pouring out of you in his wake.

The arms drop you and the scrawny man fumbles to get his pants up. "This bitch is fucking crazy!" says the tattooed man behind you, and before you know it all three of them are stumbling out of the alley.

You flop on the asphalt, exhausted, but completely satisfied for the first time in six months. You let the aftershocks ripple over you, basking in the glow of the blood on your neck, the cum in your pussy. As you stare up at the black sky, you wonder how long it'll be before you have to do this again.

[factual-fantasy]

25 asks! Thank you! :}} ✊

@candyglumboy

I haven't dropped the project, but its slowed down a lot with the creation of my Digital Circus AU and with my returning art block.. 😔

@avaeevo

Other than Kaufmo having a dark sense of humor and being good friends with Jax.. also his brotherhood with that other clown guy.? I'm still developing his character..

However, there's something I've been thinking about for Kaufmo and his brother. I kind imagine the turning point in their relationship to look like this scene with Lars and Steven. Specifically 2:06 to 2:58

I'm thinking that Kaufmo entered the circus first and then his brother followed a few minutes later. Kaufmo eventually assumed that his brother is trapped here because he tried to follow him. He feels so guilty about it.. but at the same time.. he's kind'a glad he's here. Kaufmo doesn't know what he'd do if he didn't have his brother by his side..

@palettepainter

Abstractions are still a thing and there's supposed to be a handful of people who have abstracted. Caine tries everything he can to prevent abstractions and he takes this handful of humans as a hard and cold warning that he isn't trying hard enough..

After their abstractions he keeps them in the cellar because the dark and wide open environment with a shallow pool of water at their feet seems to.. keep them calm.. for some reason..

Caine has never stopped trying to unabstract these people and he will never stop trying..

The others are aware of abstraction and have seen it happen.. Sometimes Caine will allow other circus goers to visit their abstracted friends when they are at their calmest.

I have yet to decide if abstraction will be reversable in my AU.. 👀

Banana laffy taffy?? :DD

@kiki-is-hurt-but-not-anymore

When I read this I was just waking up so "behind me" was my bed and then the floor XDDD

XDD It caught me really off guard. Really funny!

@cherrycreamfairy

Thank you! :) I'm hangin in there as best I can, approaching another art block though <:/

@beryl-shade

Absolutely! If they ever wanted to Caine would relaunch the code for that adventure :)

Some of that comes from the support and effort from Caine to keep everyone sane. And a lot of that comes from the other circus goers providing an immense amount of comfort and emotional support <:}}

@nerdyskullcap

:DD Thank you so much!! :)) And I'm always kind'a hoping I have a change of heart and open up to fanart. But I just cant help that I'm not comfortable with it. <:/

@lunarmoon8361

Why? :(

@mimiocto

Yes I'm aware- but considering that's the only time I can recall him swearing vs Zooble who swears nearly every time she's on screen... yeah I like Kinger more-

XD Caine if he was in Coraline

@gachaclubideas

Aww Munna.. such a nostalgic Pokémon. 💞 And that other critter is so cute! :DDD

I imagine that Caine wouldn't thrust Pomni into an adventure right away. He would spend some time with her to delicately explain the situation and who he is. He would maybe then show her around a bit but eventually he would just leave her alone in her room for a while for her to process everything.

Eventually she would calm down and Caine would create a very mild in-house adventure to help her settle in and introduce her to the other members of the circus.

I think the 4 ace cards for a head is a neat design! But the giant hands.. I'm sure there's a reason for it but I'm not a fan- 💀

@caronaro-flipaclip

.... w h a t

I present to you, a treat.

Kermit drinkin malk

(Referencing this post)

I figured if she can have that little pink wing on her shoulder, why not just full on wings? That can actually fly??

@king-ryuusei

Gummigoo's bandana is actually supposed to look like a fruit roll up 😅 I've seen through the comments that the red and blue didn't translate well... he's due for a redesign-

@hhbluedynamite

Thank you! :DDD And while I don't think they would outwardly call the others their kids, (They're all adults so that's kind'a weird-) some of the others definitely find a sense of parental comfort and security in them <:)

@lathan-chillyfilm

I'd love to hear all about it! :DD

@ink-machine-kidd

He's still an NPC :00 its just that when he showed up in the circus, Caine didn't delete him. He let him stay for Pomni's sake. <:)

@taco-hyeh

[ash5monster01]

Learning to Love Part 10

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: 18+, langauge, angst, fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, fake relationship, eventual smut, minor enemies to lovers trope.

Summary: It's not uncommon for you to be shamed for your size, it is however uncommon to be told that no one would ever date you because of it. Rafe on the other hand is used to being called a jerk, that is until he is accused of seeing people for only what's on the surface. It's purely coicidental you two meet right after these accusations are thrown your way. So even though you two don't know each other, and probably never would've looked the others way before this, now you're both going to prove a point. It's simple really, prove others wrong and don't fall in love. Easier said than done.

word count: 2.1k

Part 9 ←→ Epilogue

Masterlist

When Rafe had received that text and the realization settled he instantly called you. The tragic thing about that was the phone didn’t even ring before informing him he could no longer contact this number. You had blocked him and he had absolutely no idea as to why. He had just slept with you, had the best night of his life, and was determined to make this thing real. After that night it had to be real. Yet something happened between then and now and he wasn’t entirely sure what. He woke up with you missing and a dead phone. He decided to get some work done and now you no longer wanted to be with him.

Had he taken things too far? Were you drunk and felt like he had taken advantage of you? Maybe you were drunk and hadn’t intended to ever sleep with him and regretted it. Rafe was drunk too, but there was no way in hell he could forget that night after yearning for it for so long. The sounds you made and the way you tasted was burned in his mind and now you just expected him to forget about you? Move on and find the girl of his dreams when he already had her? Yeah right.

So Rafe was now on a mission. Determined to change your mind which is why he drives to the bar and stumbles his way inside. It’s towards the end of the lunch rush but when he spots Mila behind the bar, he instantly perks up and rushes towards her. When she spots him the glare she gives could burn him entirely. So Rafe slows his pace but still moves towards her in search of answers he’s so desperate for.

“She’s not here!” Mila says over the touch too loud music filling the bar. She wiped the counter, not daring to look him in the eye.

“Then where is she Mila?” Rafe fires back and the brunette girl rolls her eyes before dropping the rag and looking up. Her arms cross over her chest in defensive and Rafe feels guilty even though he is still unsure of what he has done.

“I’m not telling you, she wants to be alone” Mila tells him, starting to work on a drink for a customer who has flagged her for another.

“Why Mila? We were fine, I was going to come see her after work. We, we had a good night. Everything was going so well. I don’t know what went wrong!” Rafe argued and as Mila passed the drink to a customer she finally saw the distraught look on his face. All she knew is he had done something wrong. All you had said was you’d explain everything to her later but she knew that look in his eyes. He loved you and was panicking because you cut him off with no explanation. A famous move of yours to avoid confrontation.

“Look Rafe, I know as much as you don’t want to hear it but when Y/N decides something like this it comes with reason. When I get home tonight I’m gonna figure out exactly what you did even if you don’t know it. Until then, give her space. Take the rest of your Sunday and just relax” Rafe could tell she was being sincere. Her eyes held care for the both of them in this moment and as much as Rafe would lose his mind spending the rest of the day wondering what he did wrong, he was going to respect Mila’s wishes.

“Just, promise to text me. Please, she blocked me and I need to know what I did” he pleaded and Mila sighed before grabbing her phone and unlocking it.

“I’ll take your phone number but I can’t promise a text. If she doesn’t want me to contact you I’m going to respect that. She’s my friend first” Mila says with a stern tone and Rafe nods as he grabs her phone and anxiously types his number in. He fights everything in him to not text himself so he’d have her number as well and hands it back across the bar. He wanted to respect you as much as he could.

“I really care for her you know, it was always real” and he knows Mila doesn’t understand what he’s saying but she nods as Rafe turns to leave the bar and somehow survive the rest of the day without you.

It’s late when Mila finally walks through the door to your shared home. Randy was kind enough to drop her off even after he was kind enough to cover your shift. Mila couldn’t thank him enough. She’s forgotten all about it though the minute she finds you curled up on the couch with tears streaming down your cheeks. She knew you were upset, with the way you had cried on the phone, and told her you were going home. So she doesn’t ask any questions while she sits beside you and pulls you into her arms.

“It was fake you know?” you whisper out after a moment, voice raspy with tears.

“What was?” she asks, a hand running through your hair and providing a sense of comfort.

“Me and Rafe, we were fake dating. We made an agreement so it was never real” you whisper to her, your hands coming to brush some tears away which was useless since more came.

“I don’t understand, why would you need to fake date?” she questions and you sigh as you turn and look at her with glossy eyes.

“I just wanted to show the people around me that I was good enough to be someone’s girlfriend and he wanted to prove he dated girls for more than just their looks” the way your voice cracks tells Mila you had carried that burden with you to whole time. Knowing Rafe didn’t find you attractive and was using you to prove a point. Yet maybe that wasn’t entirely true, not after the hundreds of times she’s seen the way he looks at you. Even today when panicking about losing you.

“But, you guys had sex. Why would you sleep with him if you weren’t really together?” and you don’t have to answer with the way your eyes search her own. It’s written all over your face. You fell in love. You can’t say it out loud.

“What happened when you went back there?” she asks after pulling you into a hug and the harsh words you had overheard return to your mind.

“He wasn’t home so I went to his work. A coworker of his was with him, a girl he had previously dated. She was questioning him about me, saying it didn’t make sense. Then she mentioned their sex life in present tense. He had been sleeping with another girl the whole time. The last thing I heard him say was he was never attracted to big girls-“ you take a few heavy breaths, wiping the tears from your eyes before continuing. “We slept together, I thought it was real. That there was a chance we could actually be together and instead I was just another notch on the bedpost. Some one to get him off all while I trusted him”

“Oh my God, Y/N you should have told me it wasn’t real from the start! I could’ve helped you, gotten you out of this before all of this happened” she tells you with sincerity and you shake your head. Sleeping with someone was the test of ultimate trust for you and Rafe had broken that. The sad part was, it didn’t change how you felt. You still loved him even when you knew you shouldn’t.

“It’s okay Mila, I don’t regret it. Not entirely. I got to feel exactly what it was like to be loved for who I am even if it was fake. At least it felt real” and Rafe’s words ring through Mila’s head. Quickly the realization dawns on her. It was always real. You had to of misunderstood, missed some context to the conversation. Rafe said himself that it was real for him too.

“You know you deserve to be loved just the way you are? It doesn’t have to be fake” Mila tells you and as much as you want the words to be true they’re not. Yet you do what you’ve always become accustomed to when someone says this.

“Thanks Mila” and you hug her because the sentiment is cherished but after a long time of never being accepted for who you are, even the words from the people closest to you can become meaningless. After all how can you believe her when what she just said had never become true?

“Want me to stay up, we can watch a movie and make ice cream sundaes!” she offers and even though you know she’ll do it you can see the exhaustion on her face. You knew better than anyone exactly what it was like to work in that bar. So you give her a soft shake of your head.

“Don’t worry about it, I kind of want to be alone. Get some sleep” you tell her and she pouts before nodding, standing, and stretching her arms.

“If you need me, you know where to find me” she says before leaning and kissing your head. “I love you Y/N”

“I love you too Mila” you returns and she smiles before shuffling down the hallway where she more than likely would fall asleep before she could even change out of her work clothes.

Now left alone in the dark you click on the TV, surfing channels in hopes to find a romcom with a happy ending or even a sad one. You weren’t entirely sure what you wanted at the moment. That is until your phone vibrates to life, the screen illuminating your face. You can’t help but be hopeful it’s Rafe but how could it be when you had spent an afternoon blocking him on everything you had, tears blurring your vision, and making it hard to see the screen. Instead it’s an unknown number, one you had forgotten about.

unknown number

You debate even texting back, knowing you’ve been sad all day but isn’t this was you and Rafe had agreed upon. Seeing others and finding the one. You and him were officially done and never real so why should it matter if you pursue Tanner right away. You deserved to be happy after all, even if it would take a while to stop loving Rafe. So you respond to the text anyway.

It’s flirty, sure, but what did you have to lose?

Tanner

And you find yourself giggling at your phone, feeling giddy for the first time since Rafe and the first time for real in a while. Your heart may be broken but at least you were confident that you could move on. Not all hope was lost and wasn’t that comfort enough? You had been strong this whole time, lived a whole life yearning for the kind of love you deserved, and at least there was still time. It would just have to do for now.

Mila hadn’t gone right to bed though, she knew what she had to do. Yes she was upset with Rafe but she was fully confident most of this was misunderstanding. Maybe it was all fake but Mila had watched you two, seen the way you looked at each other and heard the way you laughed. You trusted him and he trusted you, it was fake but how much could you truly pretend in a relationship like that? So even though she hadn’t promised anything she pulled her phone out anyway.

She didn’t need to say who she was. She knew Rafe would know when he received that text into the late hours of the night. What she hadn’t expected was his immediate response back.

Rafe

And maybe Mila didn’t know Rafe as well as you but reading this text she knew it to be true. It’s possible Rafe had broken many promises in a lifetime but this is one she knew he’d keep.

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Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))

[ohsc]

Hmm what about Destiel, Dean lashes out at Cas for whatever reason you like

Comfort angst ofc :3

hi lovely!! tysm for the req <3 | destiel, 0.9k, hurt/comfort, fluff, kinda unedited

His eyes were pulsing. Dean squeezed his eyes shut, a palm pressed to his forehead, and he prayed that the pain would subside soon.

Well, maybe prayed was the wrong term. The only reason he had a headache was because he’d been so stressed after the argument with his angel. Maybe he didn’t get the right to pray in that moment.

His mattress was too hard beneath his back, his head hurt too much, his room was too quiet, and all he wanted was to roll over and lay his head on Cas’ chest until the pain went away. Instead, he laid alone in his bedroom with a bottle of whiskey and the guilt that settled heavily on his chest, and the knowledge that Cas was sat alone in the library.

It had been an argument that had gotten far more heated than necessary, and had been so bad that Sam had taken Jack out of the room when things had really kicked off. They shouted, said things they didn’t mean, and then Dean retreated back to his room feeling sick and growing a headache.

That had been two hours ago.

Dean groaned and rolled onto his side, grabbed one of his pillows and pushed it so tightly against his head in an attempt to block out any light in the room, wanting the ache to just go away. Realistically, he knew he could’ve just asked Cas to use his grace, but Dean was too stubborn to go back out there, even if he wanted nothing more in that moment then his angel.

With the pillow shoved tightly against the side of his head, more importantly his ear, the only thing Dean was able to hear was the thump thump thump of the headache in his skull, so he wasn’t aware that the door had opened until he felt a hand on his shoulder and he flinched, shoved the pillow off and sat up so quickly that his neck cracked.

“Jesus Christ, Cas.”

Cas was sat on the bed beside Dean’s knees, and he looked ever so guilty at making him jump. “Sorry, Dean.”

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face, pushed a breath out of his lungs as he sat out properly. “Thought we’d gotten over you scarin’ the shit outta me when you stopped zapping everywhere.”

Another apology seemed to be on the tip of the angel’s tongue before he paused, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

Dean glared, a deadpanned look. “Oh, nothing. I’m having such a pleasant evening.”

Cas’ look also soured. “No, not that. You look like you’re in pain. What’s wrong? I can help.”

Dean clenched his jaw, and tried to stop his eyelids from blinking too much beneath the light of his bedroom, which made the pulsing headache feel like a sledgehammer. “It’s fine.”

“Dean.”

He huffed a breath. Cas always had held a habit of seeing right through him. “Feels like I’ve got Annie Wilkes knocking around my skull.”

“You could have come and told me,” Cas spoke with far more gentleness than Dean deserved as he leaned forwards, and pressed his palm to Dean’s forehead, his other hand lifting to cradle his jaw. The first touch was necessary, the latter wasn’t. It made Dean feel better than whatever the grace would do. He didn’t seem mad anymore. “Here.”

Cas’ eyes flashed and the relief in his head was palpable. Dean closed his eyes and let out a shuddered breath as it felt like cold water was poured over and inside his head, washed away any remnants of the headache until the only pain left was the guilt settled within his ribs, along with the enochian that Cas had carved there, like he had carved a space for himself within Dean’s soul.

“Thanks,” when he reopened his eyes, he was met with the usual comforting blue of his angel’s eyes. “Listen, Cas-”

“It’s fine,” Cas’ throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I understand that I was being a little difficult-”

“Understatement.”

The angel glared before he continued. “Sometimes I forget that my actions can get a little reckless. This is the first time in… eternity, that I’ve ever had somebody to be safe for.”

His stupid boyfriend and his stupid poetic words. If he hadn’t already forgiven him, then he would’ve then.

“You sap,” Dean rolled his eyes, but felt himself glow when he got a small smile in response. “Sorry for yelling though, man. I just… don’t like the idea of you getting hurt. Y’know. Again,” his own lips quirked up too. “If you could stop dying for us like once a month that’d be great.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Dean smiled, the rift between them healed as quickly as his headache had been, and leaned in to kiss him. Kisses had meant nothing to Dean for so long. Kisses had just meant that the girl he’d met at whatever bar he was at was someone he’d possibly spend the night with. It had always been rushed and lustful, tongue and spit and lipgloss. He’d never kissed somebody as carefully as he kissed Cas; a hand on his jaw, slow precise movements, shared breaths. Love.

When he pulled back, Cas had also completely softened. “Dean?”

“Mm?”

“You should stop dying for us, too.”

Dean snorted. A fair trade, it seemed.