#* :☆ﾟmay writes

[blackthunder137]

Bad news (Rafe Cameron x reader)

Pairing- Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary- it was right what people said, there is a thin line between love and hate.

Warnings- smut, darcyphilia, fingering, hate sex, light degradation, unprotected sex

Author’s note- and i am back 

navigation rafe cameron's masterlist

God, there was no way you were ever getting out of his fucking mind. You plagued his mind like a parasite, chewing on every bit of restraint he had to develop to stay the hell away from you. He knew people like you were trouble and that nothing good ever came out of it, but he couldn't help himself. Every time he saw you, it was as if he forgot the world around him; all he could see was you.

It's not worth it, he would tell himself, but that did not do anything when you were concerned and hated how helpless he would feel, he hated it. He hated you.

 There was a party being held in one of the outer banks bars, with people dancing, drinking, and having sex. All was fine until you walked from the front door and ordered yourself a drink, and went onto the dance floor.

He saw your hips moving to the music consumed with nothing else but the beat and the melody of it. His pleasure was short-lived when he saw a guy behind you dancing way too close to you. He was not the kind of person to lose his cool over a girl but here he was staring into the man’s soul who was practically grinding himself into your ass. 

He thought you might do something but all you did was push your ass further into the man’s clothed dick. And that was it, he was getting you out of there. He pushed through the crowd of people dancing, grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the crowd. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you screamed, hoping your voice could reach him over the blasting music. 

He let your arm go and mentally cursed himself for acting out.

"You looked pathetic dancing with him like that," he spat out before he could stop himself.

"Since when do you care," you snarled, pointing a finger at his chest.

He clenched his jaw so hard that you could see his perfectly outlined jaw. "You didn’t know what you were doing," he said, closing the distance between the two of you, and now he could practically smell your cologne.

"Oh, I knew exactly what I was doing, and I damn well enjoyed it," you shot back. Typical Rafe, always thought he could control people around him and do whatever he wanted. Not this time. Not with you.

He came closer to you, your faces inches away from each other. "You looked like a slut," he whispered, and he knew he had completely lost his goddamn mind over you.

"Fuck.You." you pushed him away and turned around to go back to the dance floor. And a hand grabbed you and pushed you into a storage room that was located at the end of the dance floor. The place contained extra beverages and alcohol arranged on various shelves with a worn-out table located against one of the shelves.

You took in your surroundings and turned towards him, rage blinding your vision. "What the fuck is wrong with you!" you shouted. He was so going to get punched in the face if he keeps doing shit like that.

He ran his hands through his hair. He honestly didn’t know what he was doing. He just… wanted to do something, he wanted to say that…

He hated you yet wanted you so bad that it made him feel miserable.

"I don’t know what I am doing," he muttered under his breath. 

You scoffed and moved towards the door only to be cornered by him. You looked at him and let out a bitter laugh, "You know, I am really starting to think that you are just jealous that you weren’t the one touching me. Let’s face it, you want me and it makes you feel pathetic,"

His hands curled themselves into fists on either side. He knew you were the kind to get inside people’s heads and lure them into your spell and he knew pursuing you would only cause havoc in his life but he was addicted and there was no going back now.

When he did not reply you leaned in closer to his face and whispered, "You’re totally fucked dude,"

Your hand slid down his body and stopped in front of his pants zipper as you toyed with it. Your touch alone can drive this man over the edge, he let out a groan of frustration and grabbed your neck and kissed you.

"I fucking hate you," he said in between kisses and nibbed your bottom lip, you chuckled in response. Soon it was a battle of tongues fighting for control, sucking and taking away the little sanity that was ever left. 

He pushes you against the table without breaking the kiss and props you onto the table, sucking on your lips and salvaging you like a starved man. You broke the kiss and took off your dress tossing it away while he tosses his shirt and pants leaving him with only his boxers.

He grabs your neck and kisses you again while his hand travels down from your breasts to the lace of your thong which he tugs to the side and massages your clit before dipping two of his fingers inside your pussy drawing circles and moving up and down before pushing a third finger inside causing you to cry out his name.

You grip his shoulder for some kind of support while he finger fucks in the most ruthless way possible. His pace increased by the second and you were now riding his hand and felt your orgasm building through he withdrew his fingers.

You clawed his shoulders and released a groan of frustration at the loss of contact. When you looked at him, he was fucking smirking. 

"Asshole!" you spat out and decided to take matters into your own hands. You reached down and started to massage your clit and plunged two fingers inside of you as you worked to build your orgasm. Your back arched as the sensation started to build in the pit of your stomach and you were just one stroke away from your orgasm when a hand yanked yours away. 

"Ugh, I will fucking end you asshole!" you yelled, you wanted to throw something at him maybe even kill him for denying you an orgasm. He was frustrating so very frustrating. 

"What were doing?" he asked, his voice lethal.

You couldn’t believe your ears for even hearing that right "giving myself an orgasm since you couldn’t do shit," 

He came closer to you and replied, "You keep saying things like these and I will make you regret it," 

 You scoffed and before you could talk back to him, he had already removed his boxers and grabbed your hips and shoved his dick deep inside you. You cried out and before you could process everything he pulls out and thrusts right back in making your vision blurry with tears. 

He kept his pace so brutally fast making the shelf behind you moved causing the alcohol bottles to topple down and break. 

His grip on your hips was so strong that you were sure it would leave a mark. He kept pumping in and out of you hitting the right spot over and over again. 

"Fuck," you moaned as you came around his dick. Your back arched at this euphoric sensation and Rafe was still riding through your orgasm. 

His hot breath hit one of your breasts sending goosebumps through your whole body as he sucked on your nipple drawing it out with his teeth and doing the same with your other breast. You bit down your bottom lip and your arms circled his neck using his hair as the only thing protecting you from falling apart.

He kept fucking you until your legs started to shake and were about to have a second orgasm when he tugged for the last time and came all over you. Groaning he rode his orgasm out and lays his head on your shoulder.

Both of you came down from your high and he stepped away giving you room to find your clothes while he did the same. 

He knew you were bad news and that everything about you was intoxicating but once he kissed you he couldn’t control himself from you. It was like he was the sailor drawn to the siren’s call.

"Well, that was fucking amazing," you said breaking the train of his thoughts. 

You were all dressed up, but your hair was a mess, and you had hickeys marking you here and there.

You made your way towards him, your eyes glinting with mischief as you kissed his cheek and said, "See you tomorrow." You headed towards the door and flashed him a quick wink before opening the door to head out.

Oh, he was truly and royally fucked.

[willowcrowned]

incredible how much housework you can get done if you take a chance and believe in yourself and also have fifteen other much more pressing responsibilities

[catmask]

when u go to write a mentally ill person in ur story you are presented two options. the first option is to write your mental illness realistically as you actually experience it with all the ups and downs and people who are like you will resonate with it and feel seen. except every person who reads instagram infographics on mental health that uses the phrase narcicisst for anyone who does anything that crosses them and unironically call themself a dark empath will call you scary and tell you that youre demonizing mentally ill people

the second option is to lie and write inspiration porn for those people to get hard to

[ayatou]

the strawhats & their dreams

[turtleofthehollow]

I need someone to write fanfiction of Lucifer and Alastor making a deal, but Luci botches the wording of the deal so bad that they end up married instead, and neither of them know how to break the deal, so they're just stuck like this until further notice

You can't tell me it wouldn't be in character for him!

UPDATE: It has been written! Check out the reblogs for the link!

[mumblesplash]

in honor of last season’s poem being called “”end poem”” (all quotes mandatory) this season i made one out of pieces of the actual end poem

[lazylittledragon]

Hello I love your bg3 content and your Dorian is so lovely! Can we get like an alternative reality with Dorian and Ascended Astarion? What would your headcannon be for them? 🙇

something like this, probably

[inkskinned]

so while i was writing the book, i became violently suicidal.

this was mostly due to the fact that i had a very bad reaction to some meds and my brain stopped producing any serotonin. also i was in the last semester of grad school where it's actually illegal to feel anything but dread. so it wasn't going well.

somewhere in the fog of it i became aware i needed help. nobody was taking clients or my insurance. i didn't want to do inpatient care - it wasn't right for my needs. there's not really an "in between" stage between "inpatient" and "no care," but i was trying to do the right thing. i was trying to activate the chain of command that was my emergency plan. i knew i needed help now.

i used betterhelp.

i know, i know. i'm a straight-A student and so smart and so clever, how could i ever use something so blatantly bad. to be honest with you, i didn't feel particularly keen on it from the getgo - things that seem too good to be true usually are. also, if something online is free, the price is usually your privacy.

the thing is that there was kind of a global pandemic happening at the time and i worked 5 jobs alongside of being a fulltime student and also like writing a book on the side. it is a miracle that i even thought about getting help. i would love to tell you i had the mental wherewithal to like, process whether this was the right choice for me. mostly i was desperate. i was so suicidal that i was trying to find a reason to stay inside of fortune cookies. i was the kind of suicidal that looks like splatterpaint. i hadn't been that bad in an entire decade.

they took my data. i gave them it freely. somewhere out there, they have a dossier on me. on everything i survived. my story in little datapoints, scattergraphed beautifully.

the first woman told me that really i should be grateful, because (and this is a direct quote): "at least you're not anne frank." i said that i felt that statement was antisemitic, as anne frank's life and experience shouldn't be compared to like, a nonbinary lesbian in western massachusetts. the therapist said that i should try to use lucid dreaming to try to picture myself in an actually scary situation, like running from nazis.

i applied for another therapist. i was willing to accept the possibility that there was a bad apple in the bunch. the next therapist and i even laughed about how inappropriate that statement was. and then, in our next session: the new therapist said if i was struggling with body image issues, i should just work harder on my appearance. she spent 3 sessions in a row talking about how she was grieving, and made me memorize facts about her grandmother so "she can live on through my clients."

i am a three's-a-charm kind of person. okay, so what if the last person made me uncomfortable. i figured it was just a misunderstanding of priorities - she had felt she was sharing with me, i had felt like i had to take care of her. i applied for another therapist.

the last woman asked me to help her pray. she bowed her head. i stared at her, frozen, while she said: lord, i beg you: cure her. take the pain of being gay away from her.

i spent somewhere between 2.5 and 3 months on betterhelp. in that whole time, i was not getting the professional help i so desperately needed, even though i was fucking trying.

in the end, i survived this because i finally could get off the meds that were literally killing me. a request for a real therapist finally went through. i survived because my friends saved my life. because nick let me sob myself dry in his arms. because maddie took the razors out of my room when i asked them to. because grace slept over in my bed for like 3 weeks in a row since nobody trusted me not to hurt myself when i was alone. i survived because i got fucking lucky. because even when i was desperately suicidal, i was too old and too self-aware to take "you need to be prettier" as good advice.

the thing is that there's a 19 year old me who isn't like that. who would have heard "just think about how grateful you should be" and said - oh, i see. i would have assumed that is what it means to be in therapy: the same thing my abusers used to tell me. that i am just pretending and lazy. that i am ugly and unworthy.

betterhelp positioned itself to take advantage of an incredibly vulnerable community. it preys on desperation. it knows it is serving people who are not doing well mentally. it saw that there is a huge need for real, immediate, compassionate mental health care: and then it fucking takes your money and privacy.

i still get their ads on instagram. last night i watched as a woman in a pool pretends to talk to a different woman. they discuss her anxiety.

there's a 19 year old version of me, and she didn't survive this. she was too tired, and drowning. i almost fucking died. this thing almost fucking killed me.

in the ad, the woman playing the therapist takes a note on a clipboard and then nods once, sagely.

i have to admit it's a pretty scene. the steam and light coming off the pool water lands on the actresses. like this, it almost looks baptismal, holy.

[comradekatara]

2 kinds of grad students (both massive nerds)

[blackthunder137]

Imagine sirius getting turned on when you're angry 𓂃⁩𖤐⤸₊˚ ִֶָ 

Masterlist

Whenever the two of you fight, it always results in him fucking the anger out of you. It starts with you getting all riled up over the stupid things he gets himself into, and you hope and pray that he understands that you're concerned about him, but he always has this wide smirk plastered on his lips as his eyes travel up and down, taking every inch of your perfect body. He then loses his shit and shuts you up by grabbing your jaw in a hard, demanding kiss. You try so hard not to melt into the kiss, but your body has other plans. By the time you two reach the bed, all of your clothes have already been removed, and him saying "now let me fuck this anger out of you real quick" and pounds so hard into you that a loud cry escapes your mouth. He says things like, "look at you baby, you're already a mess for me," "scream my name," "such a fucking slut," and by the end you are a breathing mess with hickeys covering every inch of your body, your legs trembling, and sirius saying, "you should get angry every now and then, you look hot." 

[interpolationz]

dalien over here saving me from art block

line art + my lovely collection of references

@danielhowell @amazingphil

[drop-dead-dino]

I’m totally normal about these two totally normal dudes :) .

I don’t usually read fics, specially AU related ones, but this one GOT me, holy cow. Check it out if you fancy that sort of thing! 

Love, Death, and Rollerskates by @spadillelicious !

[skizabaa]

"It's a lovely night in Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizza-Plex, and you are a horrible goose."

One of the most unique, silly and joyful fics ive read, it's been an instant favorite! Fanart of the lovely Untitled Goose Fic by the wonderful @eyndr-stories!

[shares-a-vest]

Eddie begins making a Hellfire t-shirt and declares it is for Steve.

The Corroded Coffin boys oscillate between teasing and confused horror. Dustin is annoyed that it is Eddie who has managed to convince Steve to finally join a campaign, while Lucas is elated and beyond excited.

Mike and Will of course, do everything in their power to stop such a nightmare, including some ill-conceived scheming that is thwarted at every turn by Lucas.

But they needn't worry.

Because Eddie is just simply making Steve a Hellfire t-shirt to sleep in. It's a size too big. He paid extra for the softest cotton and it has short sleeves and a loose scoop neck so it doesn't scratch Steve's scar.

All so Steve can get a cozy night's sleep.

[originalartblog]

Tiny skk adventures!

not like they're also cranky and tired and touch-starved

[radley-writes]

My enjoyment of writing, my productivity, and the quality of my work improved tenfold when I started embracing slumps and taking them as an opportunity to read everything I could get my hands on, watch lots of films and shows, go to the theatre, play games, hang out with friends, visit new places, and generally absorb life and marinate my brain in the art of storytelling.

Take from that what you will.