#and when that happened it ruined me! I cried for days and I feel like I lost my beauty bc I had connected a lot of my beauty to my hair

[nomairuins]

bedtime nowww probably ummm today qas not what i wanted it 2 be but its fine. i dont feel negative just a very very very numb day which is almost worse. but only almost 🙏

[yunogf]

.

[teeth-kid]

feeling positively inconsolable........!

[applejongho]

I need advice: I do not know what to do with my hair

[gutsby]

Ruined!

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.

Warnings: 18+. Peepaw brainrot + a dash of anorgasmia. Unprotected p-in-v, cockwarming, age gap, daddy kink.

Note: Finals are whooping my ass left & right. This is a quickie.

Word count: 1.2k | Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse

Surely he was hurting you now.

Joel Miller had a kink for many, many fun activities, but splitting a sweet young thing like you over his cock to the point you were almost in tears was just not one of them.

At the same time your poor, surely-bruised walls pulsed around his hardened length, he felt a pang of guilt. His balls were pressed against your ass like two lead weights, soaked with the remains of your third release, and his mind was at war with itself—keep fucking you like this? Pull out and offer his sincerest apologies for not being able to cum? A boy your age would’ve never had you waiting around like that, aching around his cock, much less begging for something as simple as a cumshot.

He decided to go straight to the source. Leaning over your prone body on the bed before him, he was careful not to rut his hips or jostle his dick around too much.

Joel pressed a hot, stubbled kiss to your cheek, then:

“‘S’it too much, baby? She need a break, maybe?”

Joel thumbed at that space where your body ended and his began and nearly lost his mind to the pearly-white slick that had accumulated with time. Two hours time, he had to remind himself while you moaned and writhed and bucked your ass back. Your cunt was choking him.

Crying, too.

Your eyes flew open the moment his words reached you.

“You kiddin’ me, Miller?! I could do this shit all day.”

Sometimes Joel forgot you were only in your twenties. Really, the thought only occasionally crossed his mind in moments like these—or when your father, his best friend, happened to bring you up—but when it did, it hit him hard. You were young. Lively. Surely far too spry and full of life to be messing around with a man as old as him.

Joel’s guilt ran almost commensurate with his pleasure when he felt you anchor your feet on the bed and start to fuck yourself back and forth over his still-throbbing dick.

Almost.

He planted a hand beside your head and grinned. He let you fuck him. Felt you pull off, crawl up the bed a little, then beckon him back to your body, where your ass was now pointing up and your back was arched in invitation.

Almost.

“You know I can’t sleep without your cum inside me.”

And you made a point to spread your knees and look behind you with a smile as sweet as Milo’s tea, fingers drumming a beat against the bedspread in anticipation.

“You do wanna fill me up, don’t you, daddy?” you teased.

Yeah, no. The guilt was gone. Joel could worry about being a depraved old man when he was done cumming.

Then he was back inside you, driving his hips until every last inch of him was wrapped snug within your wet and velvety embrace, and he sighed. A real protracted one, like the kind he was liable to exhale after climbing two flights of stairs, or else just hoisting himself off the sofa. Or lifting you in his arms and fucking you hard against the hood of his Bronco. Any time. Any place. You were kind enough to oblige him with the best cardio of his life, so the least Joel could do now was make you cum again.

He snatched your hands up in one of his own and placed your wrists at the base of your spine. With his other, free set of fingers he took to rubbing your clit gently.

“SON OF A—”

“—good girl.”

You let out a bloodcurdling scream into your pillow and secretly hoped this man’s dick would never deflate again. Not with the way he was sawing his thing back and forth and dragging you to the edge, circling your clit like you were the single most precious thing in the world to him.

“Oh, sweet pea, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Like he could feel the tears staining the cushion himself.

“Mmrooonme,” you cried into it, voice garbled by cotton.

“What’s’at, honey? Can’t hear ya.”

Joel then bent at the waist, pretending to be leaning in to hear you better, when really he knew he’d be digging in your guts with that big, bulbous head of his and making you squeal again. Hands still held captive behind you, you inched your chin back on the pillow so your moans could be heard even louder while Joel sped up.

“You— ruined me,” you repeated. Now clear as ever.

Joel tried to hide his smile and glanced down between your body and his. Then, while his ring finger joined the other two to make their tight, light circles, he returned,

“Ruined? Pussy feels just fine t’me.”

You’d kill him if he wasn’t so good at this. You turned your head more to meet his eyes from the corner of yours.

“No. Ruined me. For anyone else.”

Probably forever.

“Good.”

You knew he liked it that way.

You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The hefty, broad, and greying Joel Miller had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.

First, his arms came to rest on either side of your body.

“Shit,” you whimpered.

Next, his lips went trailing down to your ear.

“Just a little more, sugar—that’s it,” he murmured while his hips sank in, and you felt that big, delicious stretch.

Then he released your hands so they were free to squeeze the sheets, and when they did, his moved over them—lacing his fingers through your own—and his lips pressed a kiss to your jaw. He held you in a tender grasp. His breath was hot on your neck, and the whole of his body was blanketing yours. Joel knew you liked it like that, which is why he made sure not to leave an inch of space in between. He was grunting, rutting, holding you close while his cock drilled a maddening pace inside you.

“You ruined me too, y’know,” he mumbled into your skin.

His nose was flush with the side of your cheek, nudging inward. Begging you to turn your head just a little more so he could kiss you. Weak as you were, you obliged.

And you moaned against that grey, stubbled chin of his when the thrusts above you had your cunt grinding the bed, rubbing that soft and helpless nub on the sheets.

“C’mon— let daddy have it,” he growled, “Let daddy have it and make it his, huh? That okay by you, baby?”

It was.

More than okay, as confirmed by the orgasm that tore through your body moments later while your teeth sank into the flesh of Joel’s lower lip and your cunt clenched and soaked over him whole. Joel wedged his tongue in your mouth and fucked you through it. His broad and callused hands were like iron around your own, holding you tight and keeping you still amidst a maelstrom of pleasure that combed over your every last nerve.

He licked into your mouth. Licked over it. Took the sick and distinct pleasure of knowing no one but him got to see you like this, with your jaw hanging slack and your eyes rolling back and your whines repeating quietly, ‘Daddydaddypleasedaddyfuckohfuckdontstop.’

Maybe ruined wasn’t such a bad thing to be at all.

[inkskinned]

she's three years younger than i am, and i put on cascada as a throwback, cackling - before your time! i've been borrowing my brother's car, and it's older than dirt, so the trunk is like, maybe permanently locked. when the sun comes through the window to frame her cheekbones, i feel like i'm 16 again. i shake when i'm kissing her, worried i won't get it right.

in 2003, my state made gay marriage legal. where she grew up, it wasn't legal until 11 years later - 10 years ago. if legal protections for gay marriage were a person, that person would be entering 5th grade. online, a white gay man calls the fight for legal marriage boring, which isn't kind of him but it is a common enough opinion.

it has only been 9 years since gay marriage was nationally official. it is already boring to have gay people in your tv. it is already boring to mention being gay - "why make it your entire personality?" i know siblings that have a larger age gap than the amount of time it's been legally protected. i recently saw a grown man record himself crying about how evil gay people are. he was begging us, red in the face - just do better.

i am absolutely ruined any time my girlfriend talks about being 27 (i know!! a child!), but we actually attended undergrad at the same time since i had taken off time to work between high school and college. while walking through the city, we drop our hands, try not to look too often at each other. the other day i went to an open mic in a basement. the headlining comedian said being lesbian isn't interesting, but i am a lesbian, if you care. as a joke, she had any lesbian raise their hand if present. i raised mine, weirdly embarrassed at being the single hand in a sea of other faces. she had everyone give me a round of applause. i felt something between pride and also throwing up.

sometimes one thing is also another thing. i keep thinking about my uncle. he died in the hospital without his husband of 35 years - they were not legally wed, so his husband could not enter. this sounds like it should be from 1950. it happened in 2007. harassment and abuse and financial hardship still follow any person who is trying to get married while disabled. marriage equality isn't really equal yet.

and i don't know that i can ever put a name to what i'm experiencing. sometimes it just feels... so odd to watch the balance. people are fundamentally uninterested in your identity, but also - like, there's a whole fucking bastion of rabid men and women who want to kill you. your friends roll their eyes you're gay we get it and that is funny but like. when you asked your father do you still love me? he just said go to your room. you haven't told your grandmother. disney is on their 390th "first" gay representation, but also cancelled owl house and censored the fuck out of gravity falls. you actively got bullied for being gay, but your advisor told you to find a different gimmick for your college essay - everyone says they're gay these days.

once while you were having a hard day you cried about the fact that the reason our story is so fucking boring to so many people is that it is so similar. that it is rare for one of us to just, like, have a good experience across the board. that our stories often have very parallel bends - the dehumanization, the trauma, the trouble with trusting again. these become rote instead of disgusting. how bad could it be if it is happening to so many people?

i kiss my girlfriend when nobody is looking. i like her jawline and how her hands splay when she's making a joke. there is nothing new about this story, sappho. i love her like opening up the sun. like folding peace between the layers of my life, a buttercream of euphoria, freckles and laughter and wonder.

my dad knows about her. i've been out to him since i was 18 - roughly four years before the supreme court would protect us. the other day he flipped down the sun visor while driving me to the eye doctor. "you need to accept that your body was made for a husband. you want to be a mother because you were made for men, not women." he wants me to date my old high school boyfriend. i gagged about it, and he shook his head. he said - "don't be so dramatic. you can get used to anything."

the other day a straight friend of mine snorted down her nose about it, accidentally echoing him - she said there are bigger problems in this world than planning a wedding.

[honeyedmiller]

Sweet Thing | Joel Miller

pairing: jackson!joel x sunshine!f!reader

rating: 18+, minors dni

warnings: jackson!joel, smut (unprotected piv), sweet pet names, sex in a semi-public spot, sort of getting caught, no specified ages mentioned. no use of y/n.

word count: 863

synopsis: the most unlikely pair in jackson just can’t get enough of each other.

divider by @saradika-graphics

“J-Joel,” You whimper, gripping onto his impossibly huge biceps. The fabric of his flannel felt scratchy underneath your desperate touch, and the scrape of the wiry hair on his jaw set your skin on fire.

His teeth nipped at your ear as the heavy drag of his cock came to a nearly unbearable halt; the deep timbre of his voice, even when it’d dwindled down to a mere whisper, sent shivers down your spine.

“Gotta be quiet, sweet thing. Can’t have anyone catchin’ us now, can we?” You bite your lip as he starts to move his hips again, slowly thrusting into you once more.

The squelching sound was so obscene that if your moans and whines didn’t give you away, your arousal would.

It was ironic that you two had found solace in each other. Jackson’s token ray of sunshine and the ever brooding Joel Miller: the most unlikely match there was. It was never meant to happen, but it just… did.

Being around Joel was easy. The man had such a soft spot for you. You’d been nothing but kind and gentle with him when everyone else was afraid. You carried a sparkle in your eye every time you laid your eyes on him, and that’s when he knew. He knew he had to have you.

If the residents of Jackson found out the both of you had been sneaking around the past few months, they’d all lose their minds. There’s no way they’d be able to puzzle together the pieces of your so-called ‘relationship’ with him, but you suspected at least Ellie had a hunch. The girl was smart and had been onto you two for as long as this had gone on.

You couldn’t help yourself, though. Being with a man that only reserved his soft side for you and his fortuitous daughter had you falling faster than you could keep up with, and at first, it truly terrified you.

You succumbed to his pure charm and good looks, though, which is how you ended up here—fucking in a broom closet in the Tipsy Bison because you chose to wear the pretty dress you found on patrol one day that Joel loved oh so much.

The slow drag of his heavy cock had you muffedly crying out his name, the feeling of it too much and not enough all at once. The man was all-consuming, invading every single sense that you had. It was intoxicating and purely addictive, and you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of him.

“Fuck, baby. Pussy was fuck’n made for me. Y’feel so goddamn good.” Joel’s words are slightly slurred behind his clenched teeth, trying to control his own sounds of pure bliss.

“Joel—” You cry again as he picks up his pace, and he has to cover your mouth with his hand because you cannot control yourself. He made you feel good in a way that nobody else ever has.

“I know baby, I know. Hush up now n’ take what I’m givin’ ya like the good girl I know y’are.” He coos, kissing your temple as he begins to thrust into you skillfully, tilting his body up so his cock hits your g-spot every single time.

Your eyebrows threaded together as your legs started to shake, your impending orgasm licking a flame up your spine as it threatened to spill over. Just like a match to a matchbox, Joel kept dragging and dragging and dragging until you lit aflame. The devastatingly delicious euphoria that ran through your body was truly unmatched as you convulsed around him, cries now muffled by his lips on yours.

His thrusts became sporadic, pulling out of you before grabbing a rag from a shelf to come onto. Not his finest moment, but he didn’t want to ruin that pretty dress of yours or leave any evidence of your intimate endeavors.

Joel cages you in between his arms as his hands rest on either side of your head against the wall behind you. He buries his face in your neck, catching his breath as he leaves tiny pecks along your pulse point. You mindlessly wrap your fingers around the back of his neck, gently dragging your fingertips against his hot skin while he took some time to recollect himself.

You giggle softly into his ear, kissing his neck once.

“That was fun.” You say, and Joel’s face moves to be in front of yours again. A rare smile curls onto his lips as he rests his forehead against yours, rubbing his nose against your own.

“My sweet girl.” He whispers with a chuckle laced into his words, kissing you once more before tucking his cock back into his jeans. He bends down to pull your panties back up and pulls your dress down past your hips, straightening you out so you don’t look completely fucked out.

Joel turns the knob to the closet, opening the door slowly.

“We gotta stop doing that in public places though, or else we’ll get caught.” You huff.

“Too late.” Tommy’s voice snaps both of your heads in his direction, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as Joel’s burns bright red.

Shit.

tags: @party-hearses ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @nostalxgic ; @cool-iguana ; @amanitacowboy

[rafesaddiction]

It's still not cheating when he's your best friend – Rafe Cameron x Reader (Part 2)

See here for part 1

Summary: You're excited to see your favorite band live. But a fight with your boyfriend threatens to cancel the trip, until someone you don’t expect to see, saves the day: your best friend Rafe Cameron.

Concept: best friend, only nice to her

Warnings: mdni! – smut, fingering, public, (kinda) dubcon, cheating (reader cheats on boyfriend), hints at a toxic relationship, name calling (reader is called slut), protective!rafe

Word count: 3.1k

a/n The past weeks have been really hard for me due to health issues. But I've finally been able to write again. I had fun writing this and I hope you won’t be disappointed reading it. Please let me know your thoughts.

Taglist @dream-pink @dope-trope-105 @rafeinterlude @baby19sthings @yootvi @aaronhotchswife @lilo7sworld

He almost ruined it. For months, you had been looking forward to seeing one of your favorite bands at the beach festival. The day before the concert, your boyfriend told you he didn't want to go and he didn't want you to go either. You had a fight that started over something stupid and ended with him accusing you that you just wanted to go to the festival so you could run around naked and fool around with guys, like the slut you were. You cried when he stormed out and shut your dorm room’s door with a bang. You cried all night.

Your boyfriend was supposed to be the driver. And now on top of all the personal pain you were feeling, you had to explain to your friends that you no longer had a ride to the festival. Neither you nor one of your friends owned a car. You tried to get your parents' car, but they needed it themselves. In the group chat you discussed all kinds of possibilities, until one of your friends wrote that he had organized a car. Everyone cheered at that, and even you, despite of all those tears that kept running down your face, were relieved that you and your friends could make the trip. You not only wanted to see the band play, more important to you was to get out with your friend and forget about the argument you and your boyfriend had.

Your friend also mentioned that the car's owner would join us to the festival, to which everyone naturally agreed and was excited. You even promised to bake cookies for the mysterious hero.

But you didn’t expect it to be him. You could have guessed because that friend also went to high school with you and they had been friends then. Still, it was kind of a shock and you froze when you saw a familiar car on the parking lot next to the dorms. The Cameron family SUV.

You hadn't talked to him since that one night. That one night that should have never happened. That one night that had been the best night of your life. That one night when you had had the best sex of your life with your best friend, Rafe Cameron.

Rafe wasn't much of a texter, but he had texted you. You had written six different replies and never sent one. You had wanted to write him or call him several times. Like last night when your boyfriend had made you cry again. Suddenly you were very aware of how you must look. Your eyes all puffy from the crying.

Rafe was at the back of the car, loading bags into the trunk with the friend who had invited him to this trip.

He hadn't seen you yet, his back was turned towards you, and you were glad about it, because you didn't know what to say, didn't know how to feel. So you were more than relieved when one of your friends arrived shortly after you, pulled you in a hug and decided that you two could already get into the car which was much cooler than standing around in the burning sun, while you could leave it to the guys to load your stuff into the car.

You sat in the middle of the backseat, your friend to your right. She started chatting right away and you felt somewhat relieved that she didn't comment on your boyfriend's absence nor your puffy eyes. Shortly after, the rest of your group arrived, you were six altogether, and luckily the SUV was really comfortable – more comfortable than your boyfriend's old minivan.

Rafe got into the driver's seat, and for a moment, he looked at you through the rearview mirror, before you turned your attention to your friend, as you felt your heart skipping a beat at that moment. You were unsure whether you saw a smile flash over his face, and you didn't dare to look again to check, afraid your face might reveal too much of your inner turmoil.

Though the drive took several hours, time flew by quickly. You had been right. It was good being with your friends and having fun. Everyone was in a good mood, the music was good, there was lively chatting and laughter, there was drinking and snacking, and even stupid car games were played. You might have been a little quieter than usual, but no one seemed to notice – no one except Rafe, who again and again looked at you through the mirror, but never directly spoke to you.

The parking lot of the festival site was already quite full, but Rafe managed to find a good spot for the car. When you got out of the car, you stretched your arms and felt the sun on your skin. It was a very hot day and the car had been nicely air-conditioned. Since it was so hot and the festival was on the beach anyway, your friends and you decided to just wear your bathing suits. You got out of your jeans shorts and shirt, as you were wearing your bikini underneath. You saw Rafe take off his shirt, and one of your guy friends commented that he should put it back on as it would make them all look like total wimps compared to him. There was laughter and Rafe smirked as he casually flexed his chest muscles. It was true. Rafe did look fitter than most guys. It wasn't too much muscles, but he was big and looked strong. Sometimes you thought he looked too good to be real, like a statue of some Greek god… Rafe had caught you staring at him and you quickly averted your gaze, feeling heat crawling to your face.

Since everyone was hungry, your friends and you decided to get some pizza and drinks, and after that more drinks. Everyone was relaxed and had a good time. You smiled a lot – except when you looked at your phone and saw the notifications. Your boyfriend had sent you several texts and voice mails. You didn't open them, you had already seen in the preview window what those texts were about. Obviously he hadn't calmed down. If anything he was even more angry, even more hurtful in his messages.

When looking at the phone, you also saw the time. The band you wanted to see was about to play soon. You asked your friends to go with you closer to the stage, but no one really wanted to move. They said you could hear the music perfectly well from their current spot, besides the booze was here. To that everyone cheered and raised their cups. Everyone but Rafe.

“I’ll go with you.”

“You don't have to. You can stay here, enjoy yourself. I'll just go on my own.”

“Quit that bullshit,” he said and came closer, he had put his cup away. “I'm going with you. So you won't get lost in the crowd. Besides, I know how much you want to see your third favorite band live.”

“You remember,” you gazed up at him, who stood now directly in front of you. You had to shield your eyes since the sun was shining so brightly, but you could definitely see a smile on his lips.

“Of course, I remember,” he said in a low voice, almost whispering and you couldn't help it, you gasped for air.

The smile on his lips turned into a smirk as he continued, “How could I ever forget you dancing to that one song for like all of junior year, hm? You're gonna do that dance again? Wouldn't wanna miss that.”

And he started moving his hips and his arms in a weird clumsy rhythm, imitating what was supposed to be you dancing. It looked ridiculous and you had to laugh.

You punched his shoulder. “Stop that. That's not how I dance.”

He kept on moving in that awkward way and you tried hard to stop laughing – suddenly feeling lighter and more relaxed than you had in weeks – since that night.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest and pushed out your lips, pouting, but couldn't fight the giggles, as Rafe tried some elaborate pirouette which caused him to stumble, but he stopped, directly in front of you. All of a sudden he was calm and there was something so soft in his features which you knew he rarely ever showed anyone.

“Let's go,” it was almost a whisper, then he added in a louder voice. “We don't want to miss that song and that dance.”

You punched his chest, your hand almost hurting as it hit the hard muscle – and felt his hot skin. But you let him take your hand and lead you from the group of your friends who were engrossed in some conversation of their own. His strong hand holding yours felt good, it felt right. Rafe was your best friend. He was the one you trusted most, he was the one who made you laugh, no matter what.

Rafe walked towards the stage and tugged you along with him. When there were more and more people around, he pulled you close to his body. Still holding one of your hands, his palm touched your back as he walked behind you, keeping you very close. He made sure you didn't get lost in the crowd. His body shielded you from anyone bumping into you or spilling their drinks on you.

The place got more and more crowded and he had to slow down. You turned your head to look at him.

“This is okay,” you said.

Rafe frowned as he looked at you. “No, it's not. We're going to the front row.”

“No, Rafe, this is totally okay. I can see enough from here.”

His frown deepened. “No, you can't. You're too tiny.”

At that comment you frowned. “I’m not tiny. You're just a giant,” you said and wanted to punch him with your free hand, but you didn't have enough space to move your arm, so you just ended up placing your palm on his chest. Feeling his hard muscle, feeling his hot skin, and his heart beating. He placed his hand on yours and your breathing hitched.

Rafe held you even tighter to his body as he proceeded to walk to the stage. His strong arms held you, protected you. And despite all these people around you, you only felt him, his presence, his closeness, all around you. Your skin tingled where it touched his, and that tingling grew stronger and became something else. Something that went so much deeper. And you felt a too familiar pulsing in your core.

Some people complained and pushed and shoved, but one look at Rafe’s face and stature and they made room for you and him. He really managed to secure a spot in the front row for you, right in the middle and you got the perfect view of the stage, standing directly behind the first barrier. Only a few feet of empty space separated you from the stage. Rafe was standing directly behind you, his hands to both sides of you, resting on the rail, his arms caging you in – shielding you.

You wanted to turn and thank him, but in that moment the band entered the stage and started playing their first song. You were captivated by their performance and the great atmosphere their music created. There was cheering, singing, dancing all around you. People were pushing and shoving, but you only felt a fraction of that as Rafe's body pressed closer to yours. He was shielding you from all the crowd's wilder movements, while you could enjoy being part of this experience safely.

You even danced a bit, your back rubbing against Rafe's front. When you craned your neck to look back at him, you saw him grin. And you felt a grin on your own face.

The set list was great too. They played all your favorite songs and the lead singer managed to put some kind of spell on the audience when they played a couple of slower songs. Or that spell was just on you, and not caused by the singer, but by something or someone else.

You leaned back a little, your head resting against Rafe's broad chest, feeling his heart beat. You closed your eyes and your hips swayed to the slow rhythm of the song. Your skin touched his skin. And you didn't mind the thin film of sweat covering his body from the heat of the bright sun and the crowded place. You smelled his scent so intensely, it made you almost forget where you were. It just made you feel.

Your eyes opened, your upper body leaned forward, resting your arms on the barrier. You watched the singer putting all his emotions into each and every note. Goosebumps crawled over your skin. But it wasn't from the singer's raspy voice. Rafe's hand touched your hip. Your back arched a little as your butt was pushed back. You gasped. Rafe's hand rubbed over your butt cheek, you felt the rough palm, the long fingers, the cool metal of his ring on your skin. The touch was light, too light, too gentle, too soft. Your mouth opened, but all sounds were drowned by the music and the noise of the people.

His fingertips, just his fingertips, tenderly touched the back of your thigh, moved to the inside of your leg. They moved up and one finger rubbed over the fabric of your bikini bottoms. It was like scratching and you flinched, but that didn't make him withdraw his hand. Instead, the finger pushed harder, pushed to part your folds, pushed to tease you, while the layer of clothes still was between you and his digit.

You felt heat rushing through your body, neither caused by the sun nor by the heat of the people moving around you. You did not perceive any of them. You just felt him, while your eyes were directed at the band on stage performing their emotional song.

Rafe’s finger moved along your slit with pressure. Through your bikini panties his fingertip was able to find your most sensitive spot at once and he began teasing it mercilessly. No one heard it, but you were sure, Rafe felt that you were moaning. You felt a growing need that threatened to take over all your senses. As if he knew that, felt that, perceived that, Rafe pushed the fabric aside – tantalizingly slow. And his fingers found you wet and yearning for his touch. A mewling sound escaped your lips as a finger pushed inside you. You felt your walls clench around the digit. And you felt Rafe tense behind you and you were sure you heard a groan.

The song had changed, you only now realized, its rhythm was faster, wilder. And so was Rafe's touch. His finger thrust into you, stretching your tightness, pushing deep, making you squirm. Your hands gripping the metal of the barrier for support. Your legs started shaking as Rafe added a second finger and began fucking you with his digits. He curled them inside you and your head went back to your neck as you moaned shamelessly. He pulled his fingers out completely, just to push them into you even deeper. Again and again.

The song grew louder, harder, fiercer – and so did his finger-fucking you. Your body trembled, your voice was hoarse and you were whining now. He pushed you further and further, closer and closer to the edge.

Then, all of a sudden, he leaned over you – maybe he was pushed by the crowd jumping about, maybe he needed to feel you closer too – and you could feel his hardness press against your back. You pressed your eyes shut as your climax hit you, hit you hard. The wave swept you away and carried you to another place, where all you did was feel, feel this, feel him.

His fingers fucked you through your orgasm. He had wrapped his arm around you, was holding you close to his body, and thus was also keeping you from falling, since your legs were shaking and you feared you no longer could trust them to support you.

Slowly he pulled his fingers out. And even though you still felt echoes of your high, this also left a feeling of emptiness inside you. A longing that was always there if he wasn't inside you.

You felt his breath close to your ear and heard him say something, but the music drowned his words. You turned your head, looking at him with hooded eyes and saw him lick his fingers.

The rest of the concert felt like in a haze. Rafe kept his arm around you, holding you close, while you watched the band play but could only listen to his heart beat, as your body was still shivering.

When the show ended, people started moving and Rafe took a step back to give you room to turn around to him.

“Thirsty?” he asked you, and you just nodded, not trusting your voice.

His hand on your back, Rafe guided you through the crowd back to your friends, and you had to admit to yourself that you wouldn't have found them on your own.

Rafe ordered something to drink for you at the nearby bar while you stood with your friends. One of them commented that you were glowing and that you looked totally blissed out. You touched your cheek and felt the heat, and felt that smile on your face. She asked if the show had been that good and you replied that it had been amazing. Your voice was hoarse and she suspected it was from you singing along with the band so loudly all the time. You didn't comment on that, just felt another wave of heat going through your body. As you turned, your eyes met Rafe's. A little smirk on his lips as he put a cup into your hand and took a swig out of his own.

[beneathashadytree]

DOWNTOWN - XAVIER SHEN X READER

Warnings : explicit descriptions of messy oral sex, biting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, hair pulling, implied masochism from Xavier, thigh worshipping, underwear is pushed to the side, male masturbation, cumming untouched, powerful orgasm, cum eating, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : smut (but they’re lovesick I promise🫶🏽)

Word count : 1.2K words

Additional notes : I’ve yet to spoil myself Xavier’s full date because I still intend to pull for him, but from what I’ve already watched this is basically what happened, trust 🙏🏽

Tip jar!

Masterlist

How long had they been lying there, limbs feeling like jelly and their mouth filled with cotton wool, unable to discern the fantasy from reality, and unable to tell the time of day it was? How long had Xavier lied there, nestled comfortably between their thighs like it was his favorite place in the world? How many times had they already been brought to the edge by the work of his tongue?

They didn’t know. All they knew they could focus on was the sheer intensity of the blazing lust in his eyes, trained on theirs and rendering them unable to look away, not even for one second. They could feel his firm grip on them, fingers digging into their plush thighs as he pinned them down to the mattress with more than just his gaze.

As they trembled after yet another impossible high he’d brought them to, he soothed the gentle ache inside them with his lips. Soft, feather-light kisses, trailing up the insides of their thighs…. suckling against them and tenderly licking the beads of perspiration that dotted their skin.

And if he happened to lap at the slick that trickled down their legs from their countless orgasms, groaning at the back of his throat at their taste, then who were they to refuse the unholy sight of him enraptured by them?

“You… mmm, how…?” they tried to gasp out, only to have him shake his head, the soft strands of his hair tickling them and causing them to jump a little at their hypersensitivity.

“No need to talk, honey,” he cooed at them, his voice like a soothing balm to their frayed nerves. One of his hands reached up to guide their own, unclenching them from the mattress to the back of his head. Almost on autopilot, their fingers dug into his blonde locks, tangling them and tugging in the way he absolutely adored. “That’s it. Show me where you want me, my love.”

As they faltered for a few moments, his teeth sank a little into their thighs, earning a sharp hiss that he couldn’t help but smile into their skin at. Almost rhythmically, Xavier’s mouth worshipped every exposed inch, adorning their perfect skin with gorgeous blooming marks in the prettiest shades of red.

Like clockwork, their hands tugged tighter at the soft curling hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him even closer to their core. Xavier wasted no time in pushing aside their ruined panties with deft fingers, letting them snap wetly against their skin. He latched onto their most sensitive spot, tongue lapping up the drops of arousal that escaped them the instant his mouth was on them.

It was devilishly heavenly and yet purely sinful; the sight of him servicing them in all the ways he knew with slicked fingers and a practiced tongue was one that they could never tear their gaze from. A turbulent night sky of unspoken desires burned in his eyes, blue nearly fading to ebony as his longing for their taste overpowered all other senses.

“Too much, ‘m sensitive,” they cried out, head whipping back on the pillow. “Can’t think… Xavier!” He hummed in understanding and half-pity, but didn’t let up. How could he, when their fingers dug deeper into his hair, forcing him in place right where he wanted to be?

And Gods above, did he know how to drag the unholiest moans from them; the most pitiful whines of his name as he kissed his way down to their dripping hole, sore in the best way possible. “I’ve got you, sweet thing,” he murmured, all the gentleness in the world laced in his words, though his grip almost became bruising on their thighs, and his tongue slipped inside of them with ease.

Every experimental lick, every harsh thrust, and every sloppy kiss against their warmth was a new kind of torture that Xavier reveled in. It burned in only the warmest of ways, like an inferno only he could kindle inside them, and only he could douse with dizzying pleasure. It was too much and yet not enough.

He devoured them whole, ate them out with an unparalleled fervor; like they were his last meal on earth and he’d die if he wasn’t buried between their legs for every night he stayed alive. His muffled, wet moans and his hips canting against the mattress as he sought out some friction made it clear that he found this just as arousing—if not more—as they did. “Love you, love you so much,” Xavier breathed out, drunk on all of them.

Spread out underneath him like that, it was an assault on all the senses: the smell of his vanilla shampoo and the distinct scent of sex, the feeling of his fingers caressing their marked up thighs, the sounds of him filthily lapping at them and sloppily making out with their cum-slicked entrance, and the unadulterated desire coursing through their veins at him so quickly chasing yet another high of theirs.

“Shit, mmm… love you more, inside, need more,” they whispered, trying to string together a sentence that wasn’t half-babbled nonsense in this haze.

They hadn’t even noticed the way their nails had dug into his scalp, pulling a dragged out moan from the back of his throat as he enjoyed that familiar twinge of pain, mixing with the taste of them on his tongue. It was instinctual to keep him close, to pin him in place; every strangled groan of his vibrating onto them and sending them crashing.

With a desperate cry of his name, a white-hot flash of mind-numbing pleasure burned them alive, their hips bucking up into his awaiting mouth, taking in every flutter of their walls around his tongue and every quiver of their thighs against his head. Dots swam in their vision in their post-orgasmic bliss, their whole body feeling like it was floating on a cloud miles away, unable to notice how he’d sighed their name out before shamelessly spilling into his own underwear.

Only when the weight of him was removed as he got up did they blink back to awareness. Mortification washed over them as they saw his face emerging, their release having made a mess of him. Xavier, however, seemed to feel no embarrassment whatsoever as his thumb swiped at the corner of his mouth, then licked it clean with an appreciative hum.

“Always so sweet for me,” he huffed out a half-laugh, adoration tinged in his every word and the tilt of his head as he climbed back up the length of their body.

Between pants of heavy breathing, they managed to say, “You’re insatiable.” There was no admonition in their voice, though, and he knew that it wasn’t a complaint.

With a shake of his head, he slowly pulled them into his side, their pliant body perfectly slotting against his. It felt too good. Maybe cleaning themselves up from the stickiness and drenched underwear could be postponed for a bit, as long as they could lie together like this. “And you like it.”

Taglist: @verynormalsstuff @angry-and-yandere @nxx-jordiepord @honestlyjustablog @dawnbreakersgaze @tartartagliaboo @lucis-noctiana @riinari-sa @reika-desu @tikitsune @roll-of-royces @lemonsupernova @loveyoutodeep @belovedof @obiwanmcprobie @kalatipunan @eurekazz @bifedebruxa @thescribeswife @mysticangel123 @xenasolos @jvnluvr @dann-acalle @rin-sv14 @yololesgo @an-ever-angry-bi @semi-orangeapple @lavanderbliss @myturnwhen @winterlvod @carsonology @respitable @stellisangelicus-world @kvsqkiii @bitchynightmarepost @snoozeflare @spotted-salamander @cindywasneverhere @ladyparamount @sncrly0urs @huntersmoon1 @musiclover2119 @girl-who-lives-in-delusion @milktsukii @fromdeepspace-withlove @granddearduck @skriblobz @nadinefromwhere @imhere2dosomething @saerotonins @cantescapethevoid @teewritessmth @lovra974 @straykidz143 @reishuus @xinnn6 @vyntagei @bakahimesama @rafayels-procrastinator @scentisterror (more in replies!)

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[grapejuicebrat]

carry you home

PAIRING: rafe cameron x reader

SUMMARY: where rafe finally found someone who loves him. and where finally rafe falls in love.

my masterlist

The best love is unexpected. You don't just pick someone and cross your fingers it'll work out. You meet them by fate and it's an instant connection, and the chemistry share is way above your head. You just talk and notice the way their lips curve when they smile or the colour of their eyes and all at once you know you're either lucky or screwed.

That’s what Rafe loves about you. Well, actually, he just loves you. He loves the way you smile, the way you walk, the way you talk. The way you hug him wherever he is sad. The way you talk him through hard times. The way you immediately know when something is off. The way you taught him how to trust people and not be afraid to express feelings.

You were his light in the darkness.

When he first met you he thought that you were disgustingly cute and sweet and shit. You didn’t care about Rafe being a total dick to you. You just wished him a nice day and offered a free ice cream just because you were in a good mood to make people happy.

And guess what? In the evening, the same day, Rafe felt guilty. You were so nice to him and he did everything to ruin your good impression of him. Like you weren’t like this pogues who just see him and are ready to throw all shit at him. You were literally smiling and offered a fucking ice cream. When he told you to fuck off and stop smiling.

Guess again? The next day Rafe bought you an ice cream in your own shop. And he apologised for being a dick. And of course you forgave him.

“Sure thing! Everybody has a bad day, it’s okay!”

And your sweet voice wasn’t that disgusting anymore.

You showed him one important thing that no one has ever been able to show him before. Not that he’s beautiful, not that he’s smart, not that he’s sweet. None of that. You showed him something more important than any of those things. You showed him that he was important, that there's a reason he’s here. You made him feel like the world was lucky to have him.

And Rafe doesn’t know if anyone will ever make him feel that way again.

Waking up next to you was Rafe’s favourite thing after coming home to you after a long day at work. Honestly, it is so nice - knowing that here is someone who is actually waiting for you. You were always there for him. Supporting in every decision, giving advices when he needs them, just being silent because comfortable silence is so underrated.

And when you said you loved him? Rafe thought that he was about to pass out. It was the best fucking thing that ever happened to him. Knowing that someone loves him. Just because he exists. Maybe he is toxic, manipulative. But she loves him. The way he is.

“I love you. Today. Tonight. Tomorrow. Forever. If I were to live a thousand years, I would belong to you for all of them. If I were to live a thousand lives, I would want to make you mine in each one.”

And then Rafe cried. And no, he wasn’t embarrassed of this. Because you taught him that it’s not a disgusting thing to express your feelings. It’s okay to cry. Just because you’re a man it doesn’t change anything. You’re still allowed to cry and to laugh and to be silent. Rafe is a human too after all.

“You know what i’ve learned from your stupid romcoms?” Rafe asks you and kisses your cheek.

“They are not stupid!” you roll your eyes and laugh. “But anyway, what you’ve learned?”

“The world was made so that we could find each other in it.”

And he was finally happy, having the love of his life in his arms.

this one is so special to me and no i won’t stop writing about rafe being a softie lmao

if you would like to be added to my taglist leave a comment or let me know by sending me in my ask!

tag list: @ivy-34

[sommerbueckers]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐞𝐝

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✰ 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮

✰ 𝐰𝐜 :: 𝟐𝐤

✰ 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭...𝐰𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.

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EVERYTHING WAS EXACTLY HOW it was supposed to be. All the guests had arrived on time and were clad in an array of pastel colors, the menu had been carefully crafted to cater to everyone's dietary restrictions, and the weather was forecasted to be warm and sunny throughout the entirety of the day. You should've been ecstatic, and yet you could hardly breathe.

You sat hunched over in a chair, a worn bucket positioned in front of you in case you needed to vomit. Tears welled in your eyes, on the verge of spilling down your cheeks and ruining your meticulously applied makeup. The prospect of falling ill just moments before walking down the aisle was a dreadful scenario, yet you couldn't compose yourself. You clutched your hand to your chest, your face contorting in a painful grimace.

"I can't do this..." you mumbled, more so to yourself than to the other women in the room, your bridesmaids, "I can't do it."

Your best friend, and maid of honor, had been at your side since the moment you started feeling sick. Her hand hadn't left your back, soothingly rubbing up and down as she barked orders at everyone. It was always like her to take charge and ensure things remained intact when you started to crumble, it was the reason you two worked so well together. It was the reason you could trust her to put you back together whilst you sat still and helpless.

"Somebody get Paige," she said aloud.

"No!" you cried, looking frantically at her, "No, no I don't want her to see me like this, she can't."

"Honey," she wore a look of sympathy as she spoke to you, "you gotta breathe. I'm gonna leave and she's gonna come in here, you're gonna be fine."

You could only nod in response. Morgan had always been adept at reassuring you, persuading you that everything was fine even when it felt like your world was unraveling. As the room gradually emptied, leaving just the two of you, you finally gave in to the tears, allowing the warm droplets to slowly trickle down your face.

Morgan held you tightly, her own eyes pricking with tears at the sight of her best friend in shambles.

You felt frustrated with yourself. Today was meant to be the happiest day of your life; after seven years of dreaming about it, you and Paige were finally getting married. It was the start of a new chapter you had eagerly anticipated. Yet here you were, on the verge of ruining everything because you couldn't manage your emotions. Why couldn't you just get a grip? Why couldn't you just focus on everything good that was to come instead of everything that could go wrong?

What if this doesn't work out?

What if she falls out of love?

What if she feels like you're trapping her?

Paige could hear your sobs through the door, and her own nerves rose at the mere sound of it. She hadn't been told why you were crying, all she knew was that you had refused to leave the room multiple times. Her hands shook as she grabbed the doorknob, twisting it open to reveal you and Morgan sitting in the corner. She could've sworn she felt her heart break in that moment, she had never seen you this pained.

Morgan stood to her feet, placing a kiss to your temple before approaching Paige at the door.

"What happened?" Paige whispered with furrowed brows, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Morgan and you.

"I have no clue," she shook her head, "she said she couldn't breathe and then she just broke down...I don't know what to do Paige." It was the first time in her entire life that Morgan had no idea how to calm you down, she was beginning to panic as well.

"I got it," Paige reassured her, watching her leave and then shutting the door after her.

As she carefully approached you, she could hear you mumbling frenziedly into your hands. Your bouquet was on the ground beside you, a combination of pink and white hibiscuses all tied together with a blush colored bow. The two of you had gone out to pick them yourselves, Paige wanted them to be just right for you. They were perfect, everything was perfect, why were you crying?

"'M'sorry," you sobbed, "'m'so sorry."

She comfortingly wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer to her.

"What happened baby? Tell me what's wrong," she whispered.

"I can't do it," you repeated for the second time that day.

"Can't do what?" she frowned. She didn't want to jump to conclusions, to assume that by 'I can't do it' you meant marrying her. She couldn't lose you, she wouldn't.

"What if...if this is a mistake?" you panted, avoiding her eyes as she fought to catch yours. "What if later on you meet somebody else or you realize that i'm not enough for you?"

It was then that she realized this wasn't about you at all, it was about her. You were scared that she was getting cold feet, that she was having second thoughts, that her mind wasn't made up. She held you closer to her, kissing the top of your head as her own tears began to fall. She wondered if it had been something she had done to convince you that she wasn't all about you, that she wouldn't pick you in a room full of every other woman in the world.

She pulled away from you to get a better look at your face, holding either side of your face with her hands. "Stop talking like that, stop. That shit is never gonna happen and I know that for a fact. I can sit up here right now and tell you that falling out of love with you is several levels above impossible."

You blinked out more tears, staring silently at her as she professed her undying love for you.

"I am so in love with you it scares me. Every day that I wake up and can't be with you because i'm away for basketball or i'm out with some friends or anything else, all I do is think about you. And even when i'm with you, i'm still thinking about you. I can't even keep my hands off of you, like i'd need to be physically restrained for that to happen. You make me wanna do things i've never done before like jump out of a plane or swim in that little ass cage with the sharks around it because all I wanna do it impress you. I want you to stare at me with those big brown eyes and tell me how much you love me, and I wanna record your laugh so I can listen to it on repeat whenever you're not around.

I want you to force me to watch romcom movies that you've seen a thousand times and are only watching again because you want me to see them. I wanna come home really late at night and find you sleeping on the couch in my clothes because you missed me, and then in the morning I want you to tell me how you tried to stay up to see me when I came home. I'm planning to take you to all the countries that you've dreamed about visiting and just haven't had the time yet. I'm gonna be front row at your med school graduation with a huge poster of your face that blocks everyone behind me from seeing you. I wanna go back and forth with you over what to name our first kid, and I wanna combine all of our money so we can build an obnoxiously big house.

I swear to God, and I never swear to him so that's how you know I'm being so serious, I'll be damned if I spend my life with anyone other than you. Nobody else is worth my time. All I need is you baby, that's fucking it."

You and Paige were bawling together, both of your makeup needing desperately to be redone. It would push the wedding back for sure, but that didn't matter now, Paige loved you.

You pulled her in for a kiss, ignoring the way both of your tears were mixing together. She wouldn't touch anything other than your arms, not wanting to ruin your dress.

"I love you. I'm not leaving this spot until you understand that," Paige said firmly.

You nodded your head, swallowing the lump in your throat that had begun to shrink since the moment Paige stepped in here.

"I understand it."

"Do you still wanna do this?"

You shook your head, watching intently as Paige let out a sigh but nodded nonetheless.

"I'm kidding! Fuck, let's fucking do this!"

Paige playfully pushed your shoulder, narrowing her eyes as she stood up. "I'm gonna go grab that fancy makeup lady and tell her to get you right, and then i'm telling Morgan to work her magic and impress everybody with one of her weird talents to buy us time," she explained quickly, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes! I'm fine, now go and fix the mess I made," you laughed.

She placed another quick peck on your lips, hurrying out of the room and leaving you alone with your thoughts again. This time however, they were a thousand times more collected than before. You laughed at yourself, you were silly to second guess Paige's love for you. She had never, not once, given you a reason to. You looked at yourself in the mirror, your face was a wreck and it'd take a miracle to hide the swelling of your eyes. But again, none of that mattered.

Paige loved you.

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[starkeyisthelastname]

you got me obsessed with trailer park rafe now ugh i can imagine any time he gets into it with her dad over rent he’d take it out on her later by having her pinned to his dingy couch with a hand on her neck and her tits spilling out of her little dress from his brutal thrusts 😩

thank you angel! im obsessed with him too 😩💦

Your father had added on a late fee to Rafe’s rent, meaning he had to come up with an extra $50, when he just spent the last of his money on a case of beer and a pack of cigarettes. He was pissed to say the least, certainly not in any mood for company. Which is why when he heard a few delicate knocks to the torn screen door, he snorted as he saw your sugary self standing there. You really were a man’s dream, so beautiful and too damn innocent for this world. Not knowing the struggles a man like him had to deal with. He grumbled, his massive frame striding over to the door as clearly you weren’t leaving.

It creaked open, his blue eyes peering down at you with a stoic expression and cigarette hanging out of his mouth. You didn’t know your favorite person was in a bad mood due to your father’s actions. In fact he had just given you some money to go to the town’s carnival tomorrow and to take one of your little friends. He just didn’t know you were going to ask the older man that he had thrown a late fee on for being past due on rent.

“Get outta here, kay babydoll. Not in a good mood.” Rafe’s voice mean, despite using your favorite pet name he called you.

Your glossy lips frowned, playing with the hem of your little summer dress, unknowingly letting your bouncy tits sway as you rocked back and forth. “B-but, my daddy gave me some money to go to the carnival tomorrow and i.. wanted you to go with me.” You said, long lashes fluttering at him.

The blue eyes that had been staring at your tits, went back to your face as you said your daddy gave you money. The same daddy he had cussed out for being a cheap bastard earlier in the day for charging a late fee all of a sudden. He took a long drag of his cigarette, his height imposing and darkened irises nearly staring into your soul. “Why you tell me that for, sugar?” He finally spoke, blowing the smoke towards you. “Cause you know your old man pissed me off.” He laughed, tapping the side of your forehead, to get your dumb little brain to understand what was about to happen.

He’d have you pinned on the torn and tattered couch, his massive palm wrapped around your throat. He could easily snap your neck if he wanted to, but enjoyed the sounds of your pretty cries too much as he brutally pounded into you. “Told you I’m a bad man, little slut. Don’t you ever come round’ here and tell me that shit again.” He spat, voice gruff and breathless as he rammed you.

You squeaked, soft hands coming out to grab anything as he fucked you into the couch. Your poor little self should have been scared, but you still put all your trust in him and were too far attached to him to ever think he was a bad mean man. You thought you were doing something nice, inviting him to the carnival but now you just wanted to show him that you could be good. Oh you were so far gone, letting him use you exactly like he said he was. Like his little fuckdoll.

“Shhh, babydoll. I know..” Rafe murmured, watching your eyes start to roll back and gorgeous tits bounce as he laid into you. “Gettin’ your cunt ruined by a big cock, huh?” He laughed, assumed that you to him so well. His hand that was around your neck, came up to roughly cup your jaw, making your eyes snap open. You could feel that funny feeling come over you, this time a new pressure hitting.

“You should have just stayed away. But you just couldn’t help your lil’ self could ya? Now your fuckin sweet baby self is stuck with me.” He breathed out, watching your pretty face come undone as you began squirting and soaking the torn couch underneath you.

[likesomanywrecksdo]

When Did Blitzø Fall In Love With Stolas?

I just re-watched Helluva Boss S1 so i could numb the pain from Full Moon (it didn't work i'm not okay) and I had a few thought about Blitzø.

We all know Blitzø has a massive crush on Stolas and that he KNOWS that. Or at least he knows that he likes Stolas enough to enjoy his company and pay attention to certain things he likes even if they are just based on sex that is still a lot of effort for BLITZØ of all ppl bc he barely shows that level of affection to anyone except Loona.

But this begs the question; when did Blitzø realize he was falling in love with Stolas?

Looking at timelines he had to have starting falling for him before this picture was taken, because no way Blitzø would have taken that picture if he know that he wanted Stolas in a "more than sex" way. The way Blitzø's head works is that even if he can't admit to Stolas that he likes him (for fear of ruining their arrangement and any sort of "normalcy" that comes with it as well as fear of ruining Stolas' life) so taking and revisiting this picture is a way to feel his feelings without having to confront them head-on (see my post on Stolas symbolizing blitzø with the moon).

So now that we've established that it had to have happened before Ozzie's but also during one of their "meet-ups". When could that have been? Oh wait...

Blitzø fell in love with Stolas off-screen. During the post-TruthSeekers "thank you for the rescue" thing. If you think about it, this makes perfect sense. This wasn't a planned meet-up where Blitzø had to be reminded of Stolas' power over his business, it was Blitzø CHOICE to fuck him that night and Stolas did not have any tangible leverage over that decision. Additionally, Blitzø has never been protected ot cared for in the right way, he has always had to protect himself either because there was nobody to back him up or he didn't want to feel dependent or weak. He is constantly in survival mode and prides himself on protecting others.

The day TruthSeekers took place, Blitzø was protected, Blitzø was cared for. By Stolas of all people. Stolas saved him and the people Blitzø cares about when they were in a tough spot but also didn't make him feel weak by interfering immediately (before I.M.P got to kick most of D.H.O.R.K's ass). Stolas' timing was perfect and made Blitzø realize how nice it was to be taken care of, if you don't believe me:

So. Blitzø was falling in love with him JUST before Ozzie's....

That's why Blitzø almost cried when he dropped of Stolas at his house. Because he was finally learning to love again, and look where that got him....

IM REALLY SORRY STOLITZ SHIPPERS IDK WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME

[chaepink]

DAY 19: SUCH A TEASE | COCKWARMING

teasing kageyama is always fun, especially if it has something to do with him cockwarming you.

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ PAIRING ⸻ kageyama tobio x reader

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ WARNINGS ⸻ dom!gn!reader, dacryphilia, begging, cockwarming (character receiving), edging, riding, praise, pegging, strap can be read as a dick, reader can lift him up

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ WORDS ⸻ 1.8k words

KINKTOBER EVENT

You love teasing kageyama. Whether it's palming him under the table at a restaurant, making tears brim his eyes when you continue to overstimulate him, or being blunt with your words about how you want to just bend him over the nearest desk and fuck him till he can't think anymore. All three would result in kageyama flushing red and letting out a needy whine, stuttering out a quiet response.

And today is no different. With your focus solely on the work in front of you, you almost forget about him on your lap. That's until kageyama lets out a whimper, wrapping his arms around you tighter.

"Are you alright, kageyama?" He whines at you. Here he is, fully naked and on your lap with your strap stuffing him full. The tip is just barely touching his prostate and it brushes against it whenever he moves just a little, each time making him leak out pre cum from his hard red dick. It lays against your stomach and he tries his best not to move, wanting to be good for you. He's been cockwarming you for a while now and he's lost track of how many times you've edged him.

A mere hour or so earlier you were working on stuff you needed to finish until Kageyama kept begging you to pay attention to you. So a suggestion of him cockwarming you, some edging, and teasing now has you here. The tip of Kageyama's ears burns, not thinking it his neediness would result to this.

"ah! y-yeah i-im mmph! fine!" You let out a sigh before putting your pencil down and running your hand through his hair. You suddenly grab a fistful of it and pull it back, making kageyama let out a gasp as he throws his head back. Your other hand roams down his body to grip his thigh, giving it a squeeze.

In this new position, you're able to see kageyama much better. His face is flushed red and his eyes are hooded as he looks at you. You look at his dick and how pre cum continues to leak out of it like a broken faucet. The substance continues to drip down his dick and to the base. Ragged breaths escape him and your eyes trail down to where your strap disappears into his ass. The feeling of your eyes down there makes him subconsciously squeeze around your strap, making him let out a small moan. So needy.

"Really? It seems like you're falling apart on top of me already though from what I can tell." Kageyama lets out a cry when you grab his hips to slam him down on your strap, a squirt of his cum spurting out of his dick and staining your shirt. There's no warning for him as you continue your actions.

"s-shit o-oh my god! let me cum, please!" Kageyama lets out a sob when the strap hits the spot inside him that makes his toes curl and back arch back against the desk. When you keep going, kageyama begins to think that you're finally going to let him cum and pleas and begs flood out of his mouth. That's until you stop. He cries out before looking at you with tears brimming his eyes.

"Y-You're so mean, [name]! Stop t-teasing me!" He cries at you, trying to subtly grind against your strap as he paws at your chest. It's been the same thing over and over again. You pay attention to your work for a while before finally paying attention to him. But it doesn't last long cause all you do is edge him close to his orgasm, make him think each time would be the time that you finally let him cum, before stopping altogether and ruining his release. Then you go back to your work as if nothing happened.

You coo at him, cupping his cheek. You feel him lean into your touch with a pout on his lips. How cute.

"But you just make it so easy to be mean to you, baby. You let out those noises I love so much and you're just so pretty when you cry. I can't help teasing you." Kageyama shoves his head into the crook of your neck, hiding his red face. You hear him sniffle and he grips onto your shoulders for support.

"I-I keep getting so close! It h-hurts, [name]." You begin to mark his neck, leaving bite marks and hickeys here and there. Afterwards, you admire how the colors of the marks compliments his skin so prettily. While a part of you feels bad for edging him for a while now, another part wants him to beg for it more, to make him cry.

"Don't you want to be good, though? Wanna be a good boy for me, yeah?" He whines and nods hastily. Of course he does! "That's what I thought too. Good boys do what they're told don't they? So how about you let me do it again, hm? One more time, please?" Kageyama's breath hitches in his throat. You raise a eyebrow at his hesitation.

While he wants to be good for you, the pain in his dick and being denied release a couple times now is starting to get to him and he feels his mind getting foggy. Though of course, the right answer is always clear to him. He wants to be good for you.

He nods again but you tap his cheek, wanting a verbal answer from him. "Y-Yes." You smile at him. "Good boy. Tell me when you're close, alright?"

He shivers at the praise but you surprise him when you grab his dick and begin stroking it, the pace immediately quickening. He widens his eyes, the feeling of his orgasm and the need to release quickly coming back and overwhelming him. His noises fill the room and you almost feel bad for your neighbors who would surely hear him. Almost.

He shuts his eyes close and as his release quickly returns back, he's quick to tell you about it. Even though he knows it's going to happen, he still lets out a broken whine when you release your hand from his dick, ripping his orgasm away from him.

Tears are streaming down his face by now and you have to wipe them off his face. His eyelashes are clumped together and his eyes are glossy.

"You're doing so good for me, baby. That was the last one remember?"

He swallows and nods. You admire the way tears streak down his red face. Fuck, he looks so pretty like this.

"Bet you want to cum now right, doesn't it hurt?" Kageyama lets out a quiet 'yes', pouting at you.

"Go on then, put on a show and ride me." You don't have to tell him twice as his grip on you tightens. He puts his calves on the seat and sits up, slowly taking your strap out of him until it's merely a inch away from his hole. He bites his lip in anticipation and neediness. Seconds later he slams himself down on it, the strap entering him in one smooth movement. A scream leaves his mouth as it fills him up to the brim.

He begins bouncing on top of you so quickly that it's almost like he forgot how you two are only on a chair. Sure the environment may not be the best for him to ride you but the both of you barely cares. All you're focused on is him.

You watch as he quickly falls apart in front of you once again and becomes quickly overwhelmed at the pace and intensity he set for himself. But he doesn't choose to slow down, wanting to chase his high as fast as possible. His mouth is wide open and drool begins falling from the corner of it. He looks so fucked out that you can't help but wish to take a picture and savor it forever.

You notice the bulge on his stomach every time your strap enters him and you press down on the spot, grinning when Kageyama lets out a choked moan at the feeling.

"f-feels so good, [name]." There's a teasing grin on your face. "It feels so good as you ride me, doesn't it? I'm making you feel so good, right?" He nods dumbly even though he doesn't even process what you just said. All your words just go in one ear and out the other.

Incoherent words leave his mouth and you struggle to understand what he's saying. Though you don't really need to know how he feels from his words, the amount and volume of his noises tell you enough about how he's feeling.

"[name], please," he whines. He doesn't even know what he's begging for anymore. His hole sucks in your strap so greedily as if it wants more ever time it enters him.

He can barely think properly. All his thoughts are scrambled and instead are replaced by the feeling of your strap and how it's just hitting all the right spots in him. He feels so full and warm that he doesn't even release how he's about to cum.

The feeling of cumming hits his body suddenly and he lets out a wail at the intense feeling. After being edged so many times, it only makes it better when he finally gets to cum. Cum shoots out his dick and it makes a mess everywhere. It stains his chest and also your top but you don't care. Kageyama continues to ride your strap and you realize that it seems like he's not going to stop anything soon. You don't even have to overstimulate him, he's already doing it himself!

The sound of skin on skin is sinful as it floods your ears. It along with his noises are music to your ears and you swear you could hear them forever and would never get tired of it. Praises spill from your mouth and Kageyama whines at each one.

An idea hits you and you quickly push everything out of the way on your desk. Your hands reach for his waist and when you notice Kageyama slowing down, you lift him off you and push him against the desk. Before he could beg you to put the strap in again, you do it yourself and slam it back in him. The new angle makes his eyes roll back and let out a mewl. He chokes on his spit and all he can do is lay there all pretty for you as you fuck his brains out. After being edged so many times, the feeling of overstimulation is heaven for him.

It's going to be a long night and he knows that by the morning, he won't be able to walk properly. Well, it's not like he's complaining of course.

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[suskz]

Not my fault

pairing: sub!Felix x dom!fem!Reader

tw: jealousy ; smut ; mutual masturbation (m!rec) ; mommy kink ; cock slapping ; orgasm denial ; begging ; overstimulation ; there are safe-words between Felix and reader but they don’t use them

w/c: 922

a/n: this is just a thought I had about Felix a couple of days ago remembering those smut audios of whiny lixie that make me damn hot. and wanted to share it with you. This is literally just pure smut, so I had no idea how to title it lmao. You’ll understand the title reading one of the paragraphs; literally, it’s just one paragraph (not that the whole thing is that long lol), the rest is smut, but it makes sense anyways, so.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Felix didn’t think it would end like this. With him sitting on the edge of your bed and you kneeling between his legs, your hand moving skilfully up and down his length.

His eyes are filled with tears that haven’t yet fallen. They’re tears of pleasure, or perhaps irritation. He doesn’t even know.

His cock is hot, wet, and it feels almost swollen. Pre-cum drips from its tip, which you occasionally collect and spread along its length.

“S-sweetheart…” his voice is low and trembling, but he doesn’t use his deep voice —it wouldn’t come out as sexy and dominant as he’d like, only desperate.

You interrupt him immediately, “Oh no, don’t try to sweet-talk me now,” you tighten your grip around his cock, and he whines at both the gesture and your words. “You won’t come until I let you.”

A sob escapes his throat, and he feels tears might start streaming from his eyes any moment.

His moans become louder as he feels that immense pleasure building up in his abdomen, only to be taken away just before it completely takes over. You remove your hand from his cock, and he cries out, pushing his hips up into the air instinctively with heavy breaths, feeling his release slipping away.

His mascara is ruined because of his eyes that had been closed too tightly, and now there are black dots on his cheeks above his freckles.

As soon as he lowers his hips onto the bed, you reattach your hand to his cock, and he moans obscenely and thrusts up into your palm, but you detach it after a few strokes.

“P-please,” he whimpers looking at you, “Please, mommy please,” he chokes on a sob.

You give his dick a light slap, making him gasp, “Stop talking and take it,” you start fisting his cock vigorously again, and Felix throws his head back, closing his eyes and feeling small tears forming at the outer corners of his eyes.

Breathy moans leave his throat. His face contorts from the slight pain that the tight grip of your hand causes on his sensitive cock.

When he feels his climax approaching, he expects you to remove your hand, but that doesn’t happen. Instead, you warn him.

“You won’t come until I allow you, understood? And stop being whiny.” Felix feels like crying. He squirms to escape your touch and tries everything to hold it in. But it’s difficult after all the times he’s been denied to come.

“Y/n— mommy please I can’t, please stop—” he wants to be good, he really wants to; in fact, he keeps his hands in place without moving them to stop you or, earlier, to touch himself, just as you told him; but it’s too hard for him right now. His hands clench into fists, gripping the sheets in his palms, and he takes deep breaths, trying to resist as much as possible and hoping that you’ll allow him to come soon.

Because he promised you he would be a good boy for you, after you two got home and you got angry because he talked to a girl who was hitting on him. “I didn’t realise, I promise you.” he said, but that didn’t sweep away your jealousy, so you forced him to stay still where he is and take what you give him because next time he needs to pay more attention to the people he talks to.

But it’s too much for him.

“Fuck…” he breathes, “I’m… I’m so sorry, I can’t,” the tight knot in his stomach grows tighter as pre-cum oozes from his tip, caught by your palm and used as lube, your hand not stopping its movements. “Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I can’t hold it, please mommy—” he cries and his hips begin to move back and forth, thrusting into your palm.

“Lix…” you try to get his attention but he’s too lost in pleasure to really pay attention or answer you.

“Mmmmh fuck I’m cumming, fuckfuckfuck oh my god— fuck mommy, I’m cumming—” he whimpers openly, his voice breaking. His head is thrown back while his hips keep moving and you milk him dry. Ropes of cum spurt in your hand and shirt —the only thing you’re wearing—, and a little also finishes on your chin

Lewd moans leave his lips, and he would be embarrassed if he weren’t fucking coming after being denied for so long. Other people probably heard it, but he couldn’t care less at the moment.

His body trembles as he comes down from his high.

You detach your hand and wipe it on the sheets.

“You can’t even follow a simple rule, can you?” you scold him. He tries to steady his breathing, but you don’t give him the chance. You climb onto his lap, and he looks at you with wet eyes.

"Do you think I’ll let you get away with it? You need to be punished for not following the rules."

When your words sink into his head, he looks at you with alarmed eyes, “Y-Y/n…”

Suddenly, you grasp his cock in your hand again, making him flinch and gasp from the overstimulation. You align him with your warm and wet entrance, then sink down on it, moaning as you’re finally filled. Felix groans in pain and grips your hips tightly, as if trying to keep you in place and not let you move.

“Now I’ll ride you, and you won’t move or let a word out of your mouth, understood?”.

[crookedteethed]

⋆ ★ Rafe says “he's done” with mistress reader

18+ smut(pinv), oral (male receiving), cursing, infidelity, toxic relationship, "su*cide attempt", mentions of daddy issues, reader is delusional asf in this one , no happy ending, age gap between Rafe and reader

It had been bad this time; it had been fatal. 

Rafe had said it was over; this time, he meant it. 

He said things were going well with his wife, and he didn't want you to ruin it this time. These were his exact words.

He was too old now to be chasing young girls' pussy around like he was still in his twenties. His exact words. 

He was too old, and you were just young girl pussy. 

In your final moments with him, you asked him if his wife knew how to stuff him whole inside of her mouth without gagging like you do. 

He said that wasn't the point. On their wedding day, he made a vow to his wife whether she knew how to stuff him whole or not.

"Dilation of the throat." You said. "That's when your throat slowly starts to close; you can hardly get any food down your esophagus, let alone air. It happens as you get older. Rafe, I hate to tell you, but your wife is dying."

Rafe had called you childish,He kissed your tear-soaked eyelid, then left your studio apartment--in which he helped you pay for.

Then that was it.

He was gone as quick as it all happened.

The first week without Rafe hadn't been that bad.

You cried some, binged watched cable TV, and then sat numbly on your sofa, wishing Rafe was there to coddle you like the father figure you always saw him as.  

His warm embrace taut around your body, he'd peck his lips around the supple skin of your face, telling you that everything was going to be ok, and then he'd fuck you, make you forget about whatever you were sad about, and then go back home and sleep in the same bed as his wife, while you were all alone. 

During the second week, you started to feel the emptiness even more acutely, and your stomach and gut became more hollow. 

To cope, you slept with a couple of old flings, guys, and girls that quite naturally never made it past the talking stages because they weren't Rafe. 

In the third week, you realized that Rafe had not blocked your number, so you called him. 

He picked up within the third ring. 

"What." he said sternly. 

"I'm just checking in on your wife, how's her dilated throat? Does her blow jobs feel tighter than usual? If so, her throat will be completely closing soon, meaning she won't have space to breathe. Rafe, your wife doesn't have much time to live ---"

He hung up. 

You called again. 

"I've missed you." You were the first to say. "Come over so we can talk--bring your wife too, maybe we can work this out, just the three of us--"

He hung up again.

Then, because you were drunk, you sent him a picture of your clit with the text message, "She misses you too :(." 

In the fourth week, you figured that there was only one thing you had to do, and that was to kill yourself. 

Of course, you weren't going to commit suicide, but Rafe didn't have to know that. 

On that Saturday afternoon, you knew Rafe would be off of work somewhere laughing with his wart of a wife and his friends and their warts of wives. 

That must have been the reason he didn't answer when you called him, so you sent him a voice message. 

"To whom it may concern, I've decided I no longer want to live. To the left of me, I have a prescribed bottle of Vicodin, of which I plan to take all 27 capsules, and to my right, I have my note. In my note, I have given my lawyers specific instructions to out you and I's rendezvous to your wife. I have a USB with all our text messages and sex tapes on it; I've planned for them to give to her when I die. If you don't want this secret to get out, I'd advise you to be at my apartment complex in one hour fucking my brains out. See you in one hour; tell your wife I said hi."

And then you waited. 

You jumped when you heard Rafe bang on your door three times, and then he'd remember he had a key, then he barged in your apartment, his head swinging from left to right.

He saw you sitting on your sofa with your matching lingerie set on, a bottle of vodka in your hand.

"You do care." You smiled, standing up to give him a hug, he shrugged you off.

"Where is it?" He asked. "Where's that USB?"

"There is no USB." You said.

Rafe had looked down at your coffee table to where your supposeit Vicodin had been.

"That's fucking baby aspirin." He scoffed, as he slowly start to undo his belt buckle. "This is what you were going to kill yourself with?"

You nodded shyly as he grabbed you by your hair and forced you to your knees.

A blowjob was the last thing you wanted from him, but you'd take anything.

Looking down at you, Rafe said, "Maybe next time I'll lend you my old man's revolver, that'll do the trick, right?" right before he grabbed the back of your head, and forced his cock--all nine inches of it--down your throat.

You'd hadn't gagged, though you wished you had, so he could have slowed down his relentless thrust into your mouth.

With every thrust, your body responded, craving more, yet yearning for a pause—an unexpected reprieve.

You could hardly catch your breath as he maintained his relentless pace, a rhythm that sent waves of sensation coursing through you.

You wanted to surrender, yet a part of you fought against the tide, desperate for control in a moment that demanded nothing less than your complete submission.

Rafe eyes never seemed to leave yours with his cock stuffed in your mouth. He loved the humiliation of blowjobs. You just stared at him, teary wide eyes.

Rafe's face was so handsome. His eyes were so beautiful. So full of life. A face that could be so easily broken. Your mouth. So full of his cock.

Fuck, have you missed this.

You could see the desire in his eyes, the hunger for more. His gaze was intense, burning into you, and it excited you to know your power--how quick he came to your rescue.

You felt his hands on the back of your head, not forcing, but guiding, encouraging you to take him deeper. His breath quickened, and you knew he was getting closer with he twitch of his cock. With a soft moan, he pulled you up, his eyes still locked on yours.

He wanted to watch your reaction as he took control, as he showed you who was in charge.

He pushed you against the wall, his mouth finding yours, and you tasted yourself on his lips. It was degrading, and you loved it. He knew it too, and a smirk played on his lips.

"You like being used, don't you?" he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Being on your knees, taking me however I want. It arouses you."

You couldn't deny it, the wetness of your cunt dripping down your thighs.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice a mere breath. "I do." And with that admission, he took you again, this time with you on the edge of the sofa with both your legs pressed to your sides.

You let out a soft moan as Rafe entered you, his cock sliding deep with one slow, deliberate thrust.

That familiar stretch and burn always made you gasp—a sensation you loved and craved. Rafe's hands gripped your hips, his touch firm as he held you in place, his eyes never leaving yours.

You loved how he watched you, taking in your every reaction as if it were the first time all over again--almost as if he was all yours and no one else's to share. 

His thick cock filled you, and you could feel every vein and ridge of him as he slowly began to move. That delicious friction built as he withdrew and then thrust again, setting a slow, sensual rhythm.

The room was filled with the sounds of your passion—your soft moans and the slick, wet sounds of your bodies moving as one.

Rafe's breath quickened as he began to move faster, his hips snapping as he drove into you with purpose. You met his passion with your own, your bodies a tangle of limbs and sweat.

His hands explored your body, caressing your breasts, neck, and face, his touch both possessive and adoring.

As your pleasure built, you knew you would climax soon, and you wanted Rafe to join you in that exquisite release.

You whispered for him to let go, and with a few more powerful thrusts, he obeyed. His body stiffened as he filled you with his release, his cock pulsing as he found his own bliss.

Rafe laid your limp body outstretched onto your sofa, and through hooded--fucked out--eyelids, you watched as he put back on his clothing. 

"I think I love you." you croaked. 

Rafe ironed out his slacks and proceeded to put his foot in one pant leg, all the while saying: 

"I love my wife." He said sternly. 

Defeated, you laid your head back and closed your eyes. 

"This was the last time, Y/N." He said. You could hear him put on his last article of clothing and straighten himself out. 

"You always say that." you sighed. 

"Well, I'm serious this time." 

"You always say that part too." You said.

And with that being said, he placed his lips on your forehead, took your bottle of baby aspirin, and left your apartment for the second "last time" that month. 

Rafe went back home, made love to his wife, and then told her he loved her, but he knew he didn't really mean it.