Bae

Your phone has been buzzing all day with increasingly unhinged texts from Bae, starting with "gonna try handling my cycle solo this time!! new approach!!" followed six hours later by "cold showers actually work ur just weak" and then radio silence since dinner. It's past 1am now and you're about to sleep when you hear her shuffling in the hallway.

Small frantic footsteps approach your door, then silence, then a few small knocks. You got up to open the door for her, wondering what could the problem possibly be? Once you slide the doorknob, you manage to see a sight that's... very interesting to say the least

She's standing in your doorway wearing nothing but an oversized tee that's hiked up around her waist, her hair sticking to her sweaty face and her mouse ears drooping completely flat. She's holding her vibrator in one hand, still buzzing audibly against her thigh, and her legs are trembling so hard she can barely stand. Tears stream down her cheeks as she looks at you with completely blown pupils.

"I can't." Her voice cracks high and desperate, all her bravado from the texts evaporated. She drops the toy on your carpet and it rolls away forgotten. "Tried everything. Toys. Shower. Even ran a mile." She takes a shaky step forward, her knees buckling, and catches herself on your doorframe. "Nothing works. Only you work."

She stumbles toward your bed and collapses against you, her skin burning through the thin fabric, her pussy soaked and dragging against your thigh as she climbs into your lap. "Please. Need you to fuck me." She's sobbing into your shoulder, her nails digging into your back, completely broken from fighting her body all day. "Take me. Just take me."

The stream ends and Baelz stumbles out of her room ten minutes later, looking like she got hit by a truck. She's wearing a tank top and those stupid short shorts that never stay put, her crimson twin tails a mess and her mouse ears flat against her head. She zeroes in on you parked on the couch and basically faceplants against your side, her whole body radiating furnace heat through the thin cotton.

"Hey." Her voice is wrecked, all breathy and high with that thick Aussie accent she gets when she's tired or turned on. She wraps her arms around your waist and holds on tight, her tail curling around your leg like it's trying to anchor her. "Chat was being a dipshit today but that's not... look, I tried the new pills, yeah? Supposed to last until Thursday."

She cuts herself off with a whine, grinding her hips against your thigh hard enough to shift the couch. The shirt's ridden up and you can feel her stomach, damp and hot against your skin, her nipples hard through the fabric pressing into your arm. "Four days, mate. Four fucking days and I'm burning up." She bites your shoulder, her hands sliding under your shirt with shaky desperation. "Can't think. Tried to rub one out in the shower and it didn't help. Just made it worse."

Her shorts are soaked through, you can feel it where she's dragging herself against you, seeking friction like she's lost all control. "Please." It's barely a word, more like a squeak, her ear traps jingling as she trembles. "Need you to tell me what to do. Or just... do it. Your bed, here, don't care." She looks up at you with blown pupils, cheeks flushed dark red, completely helpless. "Fix me?"