ra1nyd4yzz

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need a man so muscular he struggles to get his jacket AWF

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Oh, I'm gonna miss you forever, pedro's Joel Miller.

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i wanna be joel's controversially young gf who is such a crybaby :(

i pout? his hands already in my hair. i whimper? he's pulling me onto his lap. i cry? he's dropping everything then his rough thumb brushing my tears away.

i want him to spoil me rotten—everytime i bat my lashes, stomp my feet and whine he gives me what i want.

i want him absolutely wrapped around my fingers and everyone in jackson knows it.

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★ group grocery run

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me on may 3rd

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There's this one writer on here and I keep forgetting their user but only they keep writing oral fixations and it's awakened something in me like...

[ra1nyd4yzz]

Peter Parker 18+ P!Links

───────────── ִ ࣪✮🕷✮⋆˙────────────

Warnings: squirting, fingering, nipple play, bondage, pussy eating, missionary, anal, 69, ass eating, size difference, face sitting

🕸 steady stream

🕸 bath time

🕸 reward

🕸 roommates

🕸 no babies

🕸 giver

🕸 rooftop play post mission

🕸 taste

🕸 big boy

🕸 post mission meal

[ra1nyd4yzz]

red henley bucky and a motorcycle,, thinking of him

he's so broad, like....omg

[ra1nyd4yzz]

I have a love hate relationship with dry humping, reading it and watching it seems so good but I'm too scared ill get carpet burn if I do it

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you deserve nice things too 𐙚 b.b

pairing: new avenger!bucky barnes x reader

warnings: so much fluff, soft!bucky (if that's even considered a warning), this is probably my favourite fic already

summary: you decide to get your boyfriend a dyson airwrap, and teach him how to use it.

requests are open

word count: 829

author's note: i love writing teeth rotting fluff, ugh i love it so much! i hope you enjoy, and as always please like or drop a reblog if you did! love you guys!

i just know bucky definitely learned how to style his hair

The apartment smelled like cedarwood and the lavender soap you’d finally convinced Bucky to try last month. The bathroom door clicked open just as you set the last pillow on the couch, and your favorite sound in the world—his bare feet padding across hardwood—made you look up.

Hair dripping. Soft grey towel slung over his shoulder. Sweatpants hanging low, a sleepy tug to his features.

god, you loved post-shower Bucky Barnes.

“Why are you smirking?” he asked, running a hand through his hair.

“No reason,” you replied far too innocently. “Come sit.”

“Sit?” he echoed warily, towel now in hand as he began aggressively towel-drying his head like he always did.

“Exactly why I’m intervening,” you muttered, hopping up to snatch the towel away before he could turn into a puffball.

“Hey—!”

“Trust me, baby” you laughed, stepping around him and gently guiding him down onto the floor between your legs, where you’d already laid out the softest blanket and the box.

He blinked. “Did you—? Is that…?”

“Open it,” you said, grinning.

He glanced at you, then at the sleek leather case on the floor, fingers tracing over it with gentle suspicion. He opened the lid—and froze.

You felt his breath catch before he spoke.

“…This is that fancy hair thing. The, uh… Dyson curl-sucker thingy.”

You snorted. “Airwrap. And yes. It’s for you.”

His brows shot up. “For me? Sweetheart, this thing costs more than my entire wardrobe combined—”

You reached forward and tugged gently on a wet strand of his hair. “And yet, you’ve spent more time trying to tame this than any secret mission in the last six months.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t even do anything with it.”

“You try to. And you get frustrated. And you mutter under your breath that it never looks the way it used to.” Your voice softened. “I see it, Buck. I see you. And you deserve nice things too.”

He stilled. Completely.

Then, slowly, like he didn’t know what to do with all the warmth in his chest, he tilted his head back to look up at you. His voice was almost shy. “You bought this just… to be nice?”

“No,” you teased. “I bought it because I’m helplessly in love with a grumpy, broody super soldier who secretly loves it when I brush his hair after a long day.”

A blush rose high on his cheeks. “I don’t—”

“You fall asleep every single time,” you said, already plugging in the Airwrap with a grin.

He groaned softly. “You’re gonna make me soft.”

“You are soft.”

You towel-dried his hair gently this time, careful not to ruffle it too much, then clipped up little sections with the exact hair clips he pretended not to like but always asked for when you styled his hair on lazy days.

The heat of the airwrap blew warm and quiet as you ran it through each section, curling it back away from his face just the way he liked it.

He didn’t speak for a while.

Just leaned back against your legs, arms folded loosely in his lap, breathing calm. He only shifted when your fingers occasionally scratched at his scalp while repositioning strands. That part always got him.

You pretended not to notice the soft hum he let out.

When you finished the last curl, you combed through them with your fingers and leaned over to kiss the crown of his head.

“All done.”

He looked in the mirror across the room, eyes wide. His hair curled gently around his ears and cheekbones, looking soft and shiny and better than any time he’d ever wrestled with a hotel blow dryer.

He blinked. Then blinked again.

“I look like I actually slept this week.”

“You look gorgeous,” you said, wrapping your arms around him from behind. “Like a freshly brushed baby lion.”

He gave a snort of laughter. “You’re dangerous with compliments, you know that?”

“I just tell the truth.”

He turned slightly, enough to look at you over his shoulder. “I’ve never had someone… do stuff like this for me before.”

You kissed his temple, your voice low and sure. “Well, get used to it. I’m not going anywhere.”

He turned fully then, and without a word, pulled you down into his lap like it was second nature—like you belonged there. You did. You always had.

His hands slid around your waist, hair curling perfectly around his ears now, and he whispered, “Thank you.”

You touched his face, smiling against his cheek. “You’re welcome.”

He leaned his forehead to yours, nose brushing yours. “So… how mad would you be if I told you I kinda wanna learn how to use it myself?”

“I’d cry from joy.”

He grinned. “Maybe we can do your hair next. Practice makes perfect.”

“You’re gonna be terrible at it.”

He smirked. “I’ll be cute though.”

You giggled and kissed him again—because he was right.

He really, really was.

[ra1nyd4yzz]

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor, to the toilet seat, from the dining room table, to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink, to the shower, from the front porch, to the balcony, vertically horizontally, quadratic, exponent, algorithmetic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, forward, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in a car, on a motorcycle, the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back aching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw-dropping, hair pulling teeth jitterbug, mind boggling, soul snatching, over stimulating, vile, sloppy, moan-inducing, heart-wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, blackhole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark-worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcanic erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, hip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail snatching, spectacular, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, splendid, phenomenal, malforming, heavenly, devil's tango. please.

[ra1nyd4yzz]

Picture to Burn

Tommy Miller x Fem!Reader, Handsome Mystery man (in tags) x Fem!Reader

Summary: After getting ghosted by Tommy Miller, you're in the market for a new man. The perfect hunting grounds? The loud, overcrowded dive bar, of course.

Warnings: Language. Reader's age isn't stated, but is legal to drink in the U.S.

Inspired by Taylor Swift's Picture to Burn.

Word Count: 1.6k

Austin, Texas

To be blunt, you hated Tommy Miller. 

From his deep southern drawl and dark curly hair to the brown leather cowboy boots he always wore, you hated him more than anything else on this planet.

Of course, it wasn’t always like this. 

You’d met him one night at the Travis County Summer festival under the neon lights of the funnel cake stand. He’d charmed you, made you laugh about how over priced the food was and then proceeded to buy you a twelve dollar funnel cake and a coke to wash it all down. Then, he proceeded to slip his number into your back pocket of your jean shorts, giving you a wink to go with it. Three days later you were laughing over a margarita while he sipped at a beer at the local Olive Garden. 

Then came a two month whirlwind of nothing but Tommy Miller. You spent so much time with him, you barely saw your own family, always rushing to kiss your mom and dad goodbye in the living room before happily skipping out to the old red pickup your handsome boyfriend drove. 

It all seemed perfect, long country drives with the windows down and the radio turned up, Tommy’s hand resting on your thigh as you talked his ears off about anything and everything. 

Of course nothing good ever lasts forever and one day he just ghosted you. Poof! It was like he didn’t even exist at all and you’d made him up entirely. You waited longingly at the phone, staring at it like you could force it to ring. Then, you’d lay in bed, wrapped up in your misery as you shoved down another bite of your favortie ice cream. Eventually, your mom get fed up with her child moping around the house like the slugs that lived in the garden out back and sent you out for a girls night with friends. 

“He’s a boring old redneck heartbreaker! There’s plenty of fish in the sea!” 

“Remember how you hated when he wouldn’t let you drive his truck? That thing is like 20 years old and he wouldn’t even let you sit in the drivers seat!”

You sniff and nod, disgesting your friends words as you lean against the bar top. You did hate that stupid old pickup truck Tommy drove around, swearing that you couldn’t drive it for fear of you wrecking it.

“We should totally burn those pictures you have on your wall of him! Bet your dad would even light a campfire for us if we told him, he hates Tommy.”

Your friend was right, your dad did hate Tommy for dissapearing from your life. In fact, you were sure that if Tommy showed up on your front porch, your dad would be chasing him off the property, shotgun in hand. 

“Enough moping around! You need a rebound. Which is why, I took some liberties and got in contact with the hottest guy ever and invited him here.” 

Your friend motions to the crowded bar around the three of you, her hand patting your back with a wide smile. 

“But, aren’t you a lesbian?” Your other friend blurts out, the drinks making her bolder and chatty.

“Pssh” She waves her off, “Trust me, this guy is hot. Hot enough that even I can tell he’s every straight girl’s dream...and probably every gay man's. Anyway, I met him after I rear-ended his car out on I-53.” 

You roll your eyes and groan, “You invited a man whose car you hit to a bar to what? Charm my pants off?” 

“If a one-night stand is what you want, I’m sure he’d be down for that. He looked like he definitely fuc—” 

You cut her off with a gasp, eyes fixed on the other patrons of the bar. Just a few feet away, Tommy Miller was leaning across the bar, ordering a drink with that boyish grin of his. They follow your wide gaze, instantly recongizing you from the little polaroids you kept pinned up on the cork board in your room

“You got to fucking kidding me.” 

“I’ll kill him, hold my purse.” 

You grab both of your friends by the arm before they can jump a man that probably has a good 60 pounds on both of them, “Stay. Put.” 

The three of you watch closely as Tommy is handed his order, two drinks in his hand as he spins around to hand one of them to a girl, one with pretty brown hair, all dolled up in a nice face of makeup and a cute outfit. Just a few weeks ago that had been you. A pit opens up in your stomach not because you’re jealous of the girl, it’s not her fault the fucker who was smiling at her was a piece of shit. Oh you were so going to rip him apart before this night was over. 

“Oh my god! He’s here!” Your friend gasps, smacking your arm a bit too hard as the lumbering figure of a guy, or well, man, walks in. 

She waves and he nods, weaving around the other patrons as she slowly makes his way towards you. 

“You didn’t tell me you invited a fucking mountain man to this!” You groan 

The mystery man was as handsome as your friend said. A nice green flannel that was rolled up to his sleeves and dark blue jeans to match. A beard adorned his face and his hair was a perfect mess of curls and what looked like a hint of greys. He was certainly older than you but fuck, he was really hot. 

“Oh please, don’t act like you’re not into him.” 

Just as the stranger reaches you your friends conveniently disappear into the bar, abandoning you on your stool. Christ you hopped they weren’t going to run off and kill Tommy. That was your job afterall. 

“So you’re the heartbroken girl m’ supposed to cheer up tonight.” The flannel clad stranger says smoothly as he slides onto the stool beside you. 

“Guilty.” You hum, sipping at your long island ice tea, “Sorry about my friend, she said you rear-ended you.” 

He waves you off, “My truck didn’t even have a scratch, that little car of hers though…dunno what she called it but it’s probably totaled.” 

“The car’s name is Barry.” You laugh, “Barry the Beetle. That car was an actual shitshow on wheels, your truck did it a favor.” 

“Yeah Barry is out the pasture.” The guy jokes a nice smile adorning his face

You’re about to ask him his name but the bartender interrupts and your mystery man orders a rum and coke. 

“How’s the long island?” He asks 

“Not bad, kinda watered down now.” You say honestly, staring at the condensation thats slipped down the glass and onto the bar top. 

“Let be buy you a new one then. Pretty girl like you deserves a fresh drink.” 

Before you can stop him, he’s ordering you your drink, and the bartender is placing it in front of you, a pretty red straw sticking out of the top. 

“So, tell me about this guy that broke your heart. Must be a fuckin’ idiot leaving a sweet thing like you.” He hums, sipping his drink 

Before you can help yourself you’re spilling everything about Tommy. Telling this stranger about how perfect everything had been before you’d been ghosted, not a word in the wind since. 

A low whistle escapes the man next to you, “Whatta piece o’ shit. What was his name again? Y’said it at the beginning but I didn’t catch it.” 

“His name is Tommy.” You huff in annoyance at just the thought of him. 

The man nods, “Young guy I presume.” 

You nod sadly sipping at the fresh drink. He was right a fresh one was better than your half water one. 

“Figured. Younger guys, they don’t know how t’ treat girls like you. Bet your daddy is real pissed with this guy.” 

“You have no idea.” You laugh, “I’m pretty sure he’ll shoot him down if he ever sees him again.” 

“Wouldn’t blame him. I’d do the same if I had a daughter.” 

You flirt the night away with this man, Your friend was right, another guy was just what you needed to get Tommy out of your system. And this guy? Or well man, was something else. He practically exuded the term southern charm. And Jesus was he the definition of eye candy. Tanned skinned and muscular forearms, broad shoulders that brushed yours when he leaned in to hear you a bit better over the loud music that had started playing. 

“Ah shit,” He suddenly says, “Forgot to give you m’ name, what kinda gentleman am I, sweetheart?” 

You laugh, leaning in closer, “It’s fine. Well not fine, tell me or I might think you’re secretly an axe murderer.” 

“Not an axe murderer.” He chuckles, a deep sound leaving his pretty lips, “My name is—”

“Joel?” 

You whirl around, your brain seething at the fact that he’d interrupt your evening. You’re ready to rip into him, really give you a piece of your mind and then maybe invite this handsome man beside you for ice cream.

“What tha’ hell are you doin’ here?” Your mystery man asks gruffly, “Thought you’d be at your home.” 

Tommy scoffs, “Could say the same thing about you. But I think the real question here is for her.” 

Two pairs of eyes turn to you as the men look at you. You’re confused as you look at both of them, not understanding what Tommy was trying to say. Your prospective new man also looks confused as Tommy speaks again, 

“Why the fuck are you going out with my brother?” 

Oh. Shit. 

Part two comment to be tagged

@freythecrazyfae @keseqna I offer you both, new Joel content from me.

When I wrote this a few days ago, I had no idea Taylor was going to buy back all her own music. The timing of this is truly impeccable. I feel like a fortune teller.

More Tommy and Joel Here

[ra1nyd4yzz]

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that look of DISGUST

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Jackson's afternoons with Tommy Miller

(I need Gabriel Luna SO bad I'm shaking n crying it's not FAIR)

[ra1nyd4yzz]

Absolutely killed me

THE LAST OF US | 2x03, "The Path"

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I know we’ve all seen the pictures by now but I desperately need him to pin me against the nearest wall because oh my fucking god