#because like!!! my skin still looks like skin!!!!!

[euthymiya]

i adore you (can’t you see you’re meant for me?) — ft. sylus

sylus likes to sleep late in the mornings, and you like to admire him. the two are just a series of steps that bring you to where you are now: on top of him

— word count: 4.7k words — it’s literally all pure filth with no plot idk what to say atp

— before you read: female reader ; established relationship ; sleepy sylus ; banter and teasing ; reader rides his abs (do not look at me) ; praise kink (it goes both ways tbh) ; blow jobs ; cum eating ; reader has an obsession with his veins (it is her not me okay?) ; sylus wraps his hand around her throat (but no choking) ; body worship + one clit kiss ; nipple play ; morning sex ; unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie ; do not be fooled it is all pretty soft i promise

— comments: i am new to this game and i haven’t gotten too far go easy on me for this one :( i dedicate this to all my sylus loving nonnies in my inbox thanks for helping me figure out this game LOL. and kass. ily kass

Sylus sleeps more when the sun is out than when it’s not. You don’t mind it so much—not when the view is what it is.

(He’s pretty, and so is the sun. The two combined make for an even prettier picture. You think, if you weigh your options, there are certainly worse things out there than sitting beside your sleeping boyfriend and waiting for him to wake up.)

It’s hard to keep your hands to yourself, though. His hair is too tempting not to brush away from his face. And while your hand is right there, it’s a little impossible not to cup his cheek for a moment. And, well, if you’re already touching him, you might as well let your hand slide down to his chest and rub circles against the skin. He leans into your touch subconsciously anyway—it’s not hurting him. It’s helping.

(You like telling yourself plenty of things to justify your hand and his skin having an early morning rendezvous.)

“Bored, sweetie?” His voice is always deeper when laced with sleep than it usually tends to be. You stiffen, moving to pull your hand away, an apology already prepared on your lips for waking him when he catches your wrist, eyes still closed. “I didn’t say to stop, did I?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you huff, letting him guide your hand back to his bare chest. It rises and falls slowly, so warm and firm under your palm that it’s a little dizzying.

“Am I?” He cracks an eye open, “I was just enjoying a little tenderness. I wonder why I can’t ever seem to receive something so sweet when I’m awake.”

“Precisely this reason,” you say flatly. He raises a smug brow. Just to humor him, you add, “Your ego can’t handle it when you’re awake.”

“What, that you find me too irresistible not to touch?”

“Sylus, go back to sleep,” you grumble, shuffling away from him with a face that feels unbearably hot under his half-lidded gaze. “You’re easier to get along with that way.”

“I don’t know,” he all but purrs. In a swift motion—swift enough that you let out a shrill squeal—his hand tugs at your arm and pulls you close enough that he can hoist your body to sit on his lower belly. “We get along pretty well when we’re wide awake, don’t you think?”

His hand hikes up your (well, technically his) shirt and rests on your hip, nothing but the thin fabric of your panties separating you from him as you’re seated on top of him. You shiver lightly when his thumb caresses your hip bone, a satisfied hum pulling from his throat at the feeling of goosebumps rising against your skin. 

“Sylus,” you breathe, squirming over him—but you can’t say much else because you cut yourself off with a soft gasp when you hear the distinct sound of something tearing. 

Fabric. 

More specifically, your fabric. Your underwear—which was a rather nice pair too, you think woefully—is torn into two pieces, one held in Sylus’s hand like some form of victory, while the other falls against his belly with nothing holding it together around your hips. 

You blink. He gives you a large Cheshire grin.

“Sorry, sweetie,” he says, not so apologetically, “They were just in the way.”

“I liked those!” You hiss, glaring at him, “They were nice!”

“What, you don’t think I can buy you more? I could buy them faster than I could rip them, I’m sure.”

You have your doubts about that last part—but it’s still persuasive enough that you’re no longer as mad as you were just a moment ago. But you’re still petulant, pouting as you huff, “You ruin everything.”

“Mmh,” he hums, closing his eyes, voice still a low drawl from sleep as he says, “Are you sure? Because I can feel you dripping already, sweetheart.”

Shame floods your system quickly, but lust is faster. Stronger, too, perhaps—because you don’t have it in you to be ashamed for too long before you grow impatient. With a deeper pout, you press your hands against his chest, leaning lower until your mouth hovers over his. 

“Can you blame me?” You breathe against his lips. “Just look at you.”

He stiffens. Just barely, of course. Just enough that you can hardly even detect it, but you do. You do because you know him. And you know that when Sylus teases, it’s really just to deflect from his need to shift the attention to yours—like he doesn’t want you just as bad. Like he’s not just as hard as you are wet in his boxers. Like he doesn’t need to feel you just as badly as you need to feel him. 

But he likes to keep the upper hand. It starts with two hands on your hips, firmly squeezing them before slowly rocking them against his abs. Your bare cunt (courtesy of him destroying a perfectly good pair of panties) glides along the ridges and indents of his muscle. Very well-defined ridges and indents of muscle, too. You tense, letting out a shaky gasp as your clit rubs against his hard-planed physique. 

“If you like it so much, why stop at just a look?” He chuckles, “You’re more than welcome to feel, too, sweetheart.”

He’s so sickeningly proud of himself, you can’t help but think bitterly as soon as your hips start grinding against him of their own accord. He’s so pleased and amused and deeply content with the sight of you falling apart over him. His eyes are hungry, and they don’t stray away from you for a single second. They don’t miss a single twist in your expression, nor do they have the decency not to stare shamelessly at the image of where your pussy meets his midsection, where your slick pools and coats his skin and makes it glisten as you make a mess on him. 

He hums, large hands leaving your waist buried in their frames as they guide you at a slow, steady pace. “Bet that feels good, doesn’t it?” He grins—and oh, he’s aggravatingly happy as he laughs breathlessly, “You look like you’re about to fall apart. Don’t worry, I’m right here. You can’t fall far.”

You would say something smart if you could. Maybe even reach back and palm over his crotch that’s rudely tight against his boxers. But you can’t. Not when your clit rubs against his warm, heated skin and leaves jolts along your spine. All you can manage is a pathetic, “S-Sylus, please—”

“Oh? Please what? Please more?” He coos.

Something of a dull ache builds into this deep, throbbing need to feel your walls hug around something. To constrict around and latch onto something warm and big and full—something like him. Something like the way he fucks you into the mattress and makes you feel like he’s so deep in you, you can feel him in your throat. 

That’s what you want—but of course, you’re naive if you think that’s what he’ll give. For now, at least. For now, he’ll tease, and tease, and tease until he can watch you crumble just the way he wants to witness. And you’re close to that, too—you know it, and so does he. He can tell by the way your wetness drips onto him in a messy pool, making your cunt drag against him easier, smoother. He can tell because he can all but feel the quiver of your walls clenching around nothing, empty and desperate for some sort of building friction. And he can especially tell because of your face—that devastating look on your face when you’re so close to the edge you can just practically cling to it with the tips of your fingers as it dangles teasingly in front of you. 

“More,” you plead, “Want you. Want to feel you.”

“Oh, but you’re almost there,” he says in faux sympathy, soothing you with a sleepy, smug little grin. “Surely, you can take it just like this, can’t you? You’re better than that—I know you are.”

His words take you to the edge. You plummet off of it, in fact, practically collapsing against his chest as he holds you upright with a firm, strong grip and guides you through your orgasm. You gush around nothing, making a wet, sticky mess on his skin as you cum against him, grinding your clit as much as you can along every indent along his hard, built muscle. 

“Sylus,” you whimper, “oh—f-fuck.” Your body quivers for a few more moments before you slump against him, burying your nose into his neck. “You’re despicable,” you bite the skin lightly.

He laughs. It’s low from the sleep that’s still clinging to his voice but boyish enough that your heart skips a beat. “Am I? You seemed to enjoy it.”

You shuffle to curl into him more, but your leg brushes against the bulge in his underwear—a small, barely-there sound pulls from his throat. Something caught between a gasp and a moan that makes you pause before you grin against the crook of his neck.

“Guess I should pay you back, hm?” 

He watches, pupils dilated and eyes half-lidded as you pull away and kiss from his collarbone to his pecs. A rise of goosebumps litters his skin, too—just like they did on your skin earlier. You silently revel in that victory, making your way lower, lower, lower. But it’s painfully, obnoxiously, ridiculously slow. 

“Don’t be a tease, sweetie,” he hisses, grunting as you kiss down his torso, the well-defined muscle of his abs flexing under every touch of your lips. 

“Who, me?” You blink, batting your lashes sweetly, “Oh, I’d never, baby.”

Your lips graze over the skin that’s still marked with your essence as you kiss and suck along his torso, a trail of marks left in your wake and declaring him yours. You can taste yourself from just a few moments ago—the moments when you rocked your hips into him and fell apart, when he held you through it with a sleepy smirk. The image of his smug face makes you glance up at him with a flustered look, and almost as if he already knows, his gaze is on you. Waiting. Smug here in person just as much as he was in your memories.

“What a naughty thing,” he drawls, teasing glint in his eyes. “Did you get a taste of yourself? I’m sure now you have an idea of why I find it so…addictive, don’t you?”

He’s filthy. Cocky, too. And more often than not, he’s absurdly prepared with smart comments. Just to even the playing field a little, you decide he could use a little relentless teasing of his own. 

“Oh, I can think of a thing or two just as addictive,” you smile innocently—and just like that, you lean in to kiss against a pale, blue line across his porcelain skin, pulling away to admire the veins that mark his body. Something in you aches for him all over again—something that you don’t like to admit happens from just the sight of something like his veins. But you pay careful attention to them anyway, leaning down and pressing soft, feather-like kisses against his lower belly, feeling him stiffen tightly underneath you as his breath gets labored and slightly erratic.

He’s impatient. You glance down at him, cock hard and strained against his boxers, the beginnings of a wet patch dampening the skin from pre cum dribbling from his tip. You almost feel bad. 

Almost. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of your games?” He grits, involuntarily twitching his hips to chase some friction. 

“I could ask you the same question,” you snort. 

“Yet, it seems I’m always the one spoiling you,” he retorts. 

There’s some bit of merit to that, you suppose. So you give in, humming as you kiss along his v-line, one finger looping under his waistband while giving a small tug downwards. He lifts his hips instantly, letting you pull off the offensive piece of clothing that separates him from your touch. 

It’s flushed, his cock. Swollen, flushed with a pretty rosy shade at the tip, and glistening with leaking pre cum. You lean and give the thick vein along the underside a series of kisses tracing upwards before pressing a delicate one to his tip. He groans, and his cock twitches at the contact, his eyes fluttering closed as he bites his lip. 

“Pretty,” you observe, smiling softly at the sight of him. 

He scoffs, lips almost a pout as they curl into a frown. “Then do something about it,” he insists. 

You think you’ve sufficiently teased him enough, so you do—you take him into your mouth slowly, inch by inch, as your tongue and the wet heat of your mouth envelop him and make him tense for a moment before his body goes slack. A deep, throaty groan rings through the room, the sound making something do a flip in your lower belly. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, breathing heavily. “You…you’re so good at this.”

The praise does something to you that you’re not proud of. Some flash of an ache deep in your core that you don’t want to focus on, so you pay closer attention to him instead. Your tongue swirls over his tip as your head bobs up, tracing down that pretty vein of his as you take him down your throat once more. What you can’t fit in your mouth—because there is enough of him that you can’t fit in your mouth—you pump with your fist, wrapped around the base of his shaft. 

Sylus has a lot of veins. You admire them long enough to know them all by heart. The ones along his hands that you love to trace when you hold them in yours. The ones along his arm that you love to eye when he’s working out. The ones along his abdomen that you trace every once in a while with the tip of your finger when you have him to yourself in private. And the long, pretty one along this inner thigh—the one you see only when you’re like this: between his spread-out legs with your mouth around his cock. 

Your free hand moves to lay over this thigh, gently rubbing into the skin as if to anchor him as he throws his head back and groans. Your eyes are trained on him, staring up at the twists of pleasure in his expression and the crinkles in his eyes as he closes them tightly and moans. But you don’t have to look at your hand to know your thumb is tracing along that vein. You know it better than you know yourself, you think—his body is so easy to memorize. So easy to get to know and keep ingrained in your brain forever. 

His thigh flexes under your touch, and you hum around him, the vibrations around his length making his breath hitch as he curses under his breath. 

You pull away with nothing but a string of saliva connecting you to him, his eyes glancing down at you sharply for the interruption. But you smile, equal parts soft and equal parts smug. Gently, you press a wet kiss to his thigh, right over the same pale blue line you traced just moments ago, as you murmur, “You’re so pretty. You know that?”

“I’m flattered,” he says tightly, warily staring down at you with hungry, desperate eyes. “I’m sure you can save the flattery for later, though, can’t you?”

“But what if you think I’m just using you for your body?” You gasp dramatically, “Can’t have that, you know. I have to appreciate you more.”

“Teasing can easily be reciprocated, you know, sweetheart,” he grits, “Or have you forgotten that so quickly?”

“Oh, I’m aware. I’ll take my chances.” Your lips trail up his thigh until it reaches the base of his cock. You press another kiss against it, murmuring a quiet, “I love you.”

His cock twitches—it’s like it responds to every soft word of affection and every littlest bit of praise. For all the denying and for all the impatience, too, Sylus loves the attention. Thrives under it, even—it does something to his ego that you know you probably shouldn’t help stroke, but you can’t help it. 

You press one more kiss to his swollen tip before murmuring, “Mine,” and then you take him down your throat once more—faster this time. Your head bobs up and down his length, lips wrapped around him as you swallow every now and then. 

His hand flies to his hair, tugging at the soft, silvery strands as he groans deeply, hips pushing up to meet your pace and thrust deeper into your mouth. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he hisses, “Just like that, sweetheart—shit.”

He spills down your throat not too long after. Warm, sticky ropes of cum that paint your mouth with every twitch of his cock, filling you enough that some spills from the corner of your mouth, dripping along your face and collecting at your chin. You swallow what you can, working him through his orgasm, listening to the sweet, lust-hazed sounds he makes as pleasure burns through every nerve of his body. 

He slumps back when he’s finished, panting with an arm over his eyes while you wipe your chin and swallow before climbing up his body and slumping on top of him. He wraps an arm around your waist instantly, humming lowly as his large, warm hand rubs into your lower back. 

“Had your fun?” He raises a brow. 

You grin cheekily, kissing his jaw as you murmur, “I think you had more fun than me, but what do I know?”

He chuckles. It’s low, and the sound vibrates through his chest so that you can feel it under you. There’s a small bead of sweat along his temple, and his face is flushed a soft shade of scarlet that you admire—it brings out the deep crimson of his eyes even more from here. 

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper. 

“How many times will you remind me of that?” He asks, bringing a hand to your chin, tilting your face up, and inspecting you carefully. “You’re making me feel bad. I haven’t reminded you how stunning you are nearly enough times.”

“You could always start now,” you wink, “It’s never too late.” He laughs again. Deep, genuine, soft. Sylus is a lot of things. You think your favorite is in love. 

“Do I really have to remind you?” He whispers, voice husky as he slowly shifts your body to lay under his, flipping you over as he hovers over you. “You don’t already know how beautiful you are—how you drive me insane?”

“A reminder wouldn’t hurt,” you blink innocently. “What if you’re secretly getting tired of me?”

His eyes flash with something dangerous at that. You only meant it as a joke, of course—he loves deeply. So deeply, you don’t think you’d escape him even if you wanted to. (Not that you do, of course. You’re quite happy knowing your place is beside him.) You know he’s never tired of you—quite the opposite, in fact. 

But you like teasing him. Getting under his skin enough that his hand moves to your throat and wraps around it firmly—not quite tight enough to block your air flow, but enough to serve as a light warning. 

“You think I would get tired of you?” He challenges. Offended. In disbelief. “Tired of this?”

Just like that, the familiar sound of fabric tearing rings through your ears again. It’s a sound you seem to be getting more and more used to the longer you date Sylus. And yet, every time, it pulls the same sound of disbelief from your throat as you gasp at his audacity. But before you can speak, before you can scold him for ripping your (his) favorite shirt straight off of your body, his hands curve around your tits, molding against them perfectly as if they were made to cup them. His thumbs roll over your nipples, humming in approval as you whine softly at the feeling. 

“Sylus,” you pant. (Regretfully, you think that’s the only collection of syllables you can manage anymore on this fine morning.) “W-wait—”

“Wait?” He pretends to gasp in shock, “But we’re just getting started. I was just about to show you all my favorite parts of you—they never get old. Would you like to see?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he leans down, latching his lips around one pebbled nipple, sucking and nipping lightly at it as his thumb rolls over and pinches the other one. Your back arches into his touch, a soft moan spilling from your lips as he grins against your chest. 

“Here’s a favorite, for starters,” he murmurs. “And here—” he kisses along your belly and makes his way to your hip bone, biting lightly at the flesh and making your breath hitch, “—this is certainly a memorable place too, isn’t it? Can’t keep my hands off of it.”

Finally, his hands slowly pull your legs apart, exposing the wet, dripping mess that is your cunt, folds puffy and waiting for him. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to your clit, smiling at the small whimper you let out from the sensitive touch before he says through a low, breathy whisper, “This, however…this has to be my favorite part of all.”

“Okay,” you whine, pulling at his arms with a plea, “I get it, okay? I need it, please.”

“Well then,” he huffs out a soft laugh, “Who am I to deny?”

He’s level with you before you can blink—mouth on yours with a heavy, heated kiss that sends your brain into a fogged state as you kiss back. All you can register is soft flesh, pressure against your mouth, the taste of his tongue on yours, and hot and heavy breath seeping into your lungs while he inhales yours. It’s slow, the way he kisses you—but still undeniably needy. He chases after your mouth as soon as you pull away to breathe, a soft gasp pushing past his throat at the loss of contact. As if it might kill him. As if he might die without your breath down his throat, keeping him alive. 

“Do you want it, sweetheart?” He breathes erratically, “Because I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

“I want it,” you practically beg, “I want you.”

He’s hard again—stiff between his legs and throbbing at your words enough that his cock does a little jerk on its own, like it’s responding to you itself. He drags it along your entrance, rolling slow circles against your folds and coating his tip in your slick, earning a sharp inhale from you as he groans at the teasing friction against the head of his cock.

“I always want you,” he breathes. 

He pushes past your folds as he speaks the words against your mouth, letting you swallow up the low moan he lets out as your walls wrap around him little by little. It’s painstakingly slow. Inch after inch after inch until the blunt head of his length presses deep into you, nudging against a soft, sensitive spot in your walls that makes your whole body react with a quiver. He curves into you perfectly, thick and deep and so, so full. 

“Ready?” He smiles tenderly, gripping the fat of your thighs and hooking them around his waist, leaning to kiss one of your knees as you melt into the mattress and nod. 

“Please,” you whine, “Need it—need you.”

There’s a sharp thrust of his hips at that—he pulls out until he’s almost completely left your warm cunt before slamming back in past your folds, pressing mercilessly against your sensitive spot. It’s partly because he has your body memorized but mainly because his body is practically made to mold into you. It’s like he fits you perfectly, curves into the shape of your body like the shape of his was hand-made to pair with yours. 

When Sylus fucks you is when you see past his exterior the most. When his eyes hold the most emotion, staring at you like he can’t believe you’re his. When his hands shake for once because he doesn’t know if he deserves the weight of you in his hold. When his breath is the most labored and uncontrolled because you steal every breath from his lungs, and selflessly, he gives up air for you. When sweat coats his skin and makes his hair cling to his forehead because when he loves you is when his body is most responsive, most affected. 

When Sylus fucks you is when you love yourself most. Because how could you not when he pays such close attention to you? Thumb finding your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles just the way he knows drives you crazy, watching your face closely for every reaction? How could you not when close is not nearly close enough, when he presses his chest against yours and buries his face into your neck to all but melt under your skin? It makes you feel desirable. Beautiful. Lovable. 

So easy to want.

So easy to lose control to.

So easy to need. 

“You feel that, don’t you?” He mumbles, panting harshly as he grunts when you squeeze around him at the sound of his labored voice. “Feel me? How badly I need you? How crazy you drive me? Feel how hard I am for you? Don’t tell me you think I’d ever get tired of that.”

“I know,” you whine, “I know, I know, baby—I promise.”

You let out a small squeal when he angles your leg higher, thrusting deeper into your cunt, pressing harshly where you need him most with his tip in a dizzyingly punishing pace and a harshly rough deepness that makes your vision blur. Almost go blank, even.

“Tell me you love me,” he demands.

“I love you!”

“Tell me you need me,” he adds, so selfish and needy for your approval. To know you’re nothing without him like he’s nothing without you. 

“N-need…fuck, I need you,” you stumble over your words as your orgasm comes closer and closer, creeping up on you enough that you can’t catch your breath fast enough to keep up with him.

“Tell me you’re mine.” This time, it comes out as almost a plea.

“Yours,” you sob, body on the precipice of breaking all over again, “Yours, yours, yours.”

You cum as soon as you say it. Harder than maybe ever—it’s like being reminded that you’re his makes your body react tenfold. You fall apart with a shrill cry of his name, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a bruising kiss as your nails press indents into his skin. 

He groans in pleasure at the slight pain, melting against your lips, an open-mouthed, wet kiss working him up to his own orgasm. His first one was a slow build-up—but this one happens quickly, coming out of nowhere and hitting him full force, his hips stuttering for a moment and losing rhythm as he sloppily thrusts into you. 

Yours. Yours. Yours. 

Your voice rings in his ears, aiding him through his pleasure as he fucks his thick, sticky release deep into your folds, sharp thrusts that match the harsh twitching of his cock. 

“Ngh,” he grunts, “Sh-shit, sweetheart.”

Finally, when you’re both done, breaths frenzied and harsh as you try to make up for the lost air in your lungs, he slumps over your body and hides his face into the crook of your neck, practically purring as your shaky hand buries into his sweaty locks and strokes the soft, silvery strands. 

It’s quiet, just the sound of your breathing eventually shifting from heavy to slowed as you finally catch it, the quivering of your body dissipating, too. Your fingers journey their way from his scalp to the back of his neck, lightly making a feather-soft trail along his bare back as he shivers from the touch.

“Don’t fall asleep after I showed you a good time,” you pout, “It’s rude.”

“You were the one that woke me for a good time,” he mumbles, amused. “That’s equally as rude.”

“I did not,” you huff, “You were the one who escalated it. I just wanted a peaceful morning.”

“I don’t know,” he grins against your skin, pressing a chaste, warm peck where it's closest to his lips, “I’m feeling pretty at peace, wouldn’t you agree?”

so uh..........basically i got the card where u measured him for clothes and i saw a vein in his abs and lost my mind. so. here is the product of that. i REFUSE to be told this is not a completely totally normal reaction. thank you!

[holybibly]

♡ 𝔓𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: pornstar Seonghwa х pornstar reader

♡ 𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: After a few years in the porn industry, you've developed a certain routine and a general understanding of what you like in the bedroom. But a new scene with the trendy, glamorous Park Seonghwa and his art porn studio Pink Star Production will turn your head. Or Seonghwa fucking your throat with his very long tongue, and it's definitely a sight to behold.

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♡ ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI

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♡ 𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: dom!seonghwa, sub!reader, sex work, voyeurism, exhibitionism, face fucking, spit kink, tongue fucking, lots of sperm/saliva, fingering, pet names, dirty talk, oral, praise kink, squirt, pussy slapping, wet and dirty, explicit sexual content, explicit language, and more.

♡ net: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

♡ 𝔄|𝔑: So my bunnies, this is what you've all been waiting for. We're starting this year with a new universe and something completely unique and fresh. This is my special gift to you sugar babies, so stock up on fresh panties and your favourite toys, because Pink Star Productions is presenting its new film

♡ ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 at the end of the post.

♡ ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔦𝔟𝔩𝔶 𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 - check for more

𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖉 - Your love makes all this possible

"Be a good girl for me, angel, and open that pretty little mouth of yours." Seonghwa purrs sultrily as he runs the tips of his long, elegant fingers along the contours of your swollen, reddened lips from the blowjob. You don't hesitate to obey his sensual command. Your kissable, plump lips, still moist and glistening with a mixture of sperm, saliva, and viscous pink cotton candy-flavoured lip gloss, open for him with ease, soft and trembling like flower petals, giving Seonghwa a glimpse of the sharp tip of your tongue sticking out between your teeth. A dirty, smug grin flashes across Hwa's handsome face as he sees how obediently and easily you carry out his every command, and for a moment he just looks down at you, admiring the sweet, fucked expression on your lovely face. He should be thanking his great agent for inviting you to participate in this shoot, although Seonghwa isn't surprised; after all, Wooyoung knows exactly what kind of girls he likes to fuck. "Stick out your tongue and don't swallow; I want to see you drooling for me, gorgeous."

You slowly stick your tongue out of your mouth and stare at Seonghwa unabashedly through the thick lace of your long, doll-like eyelashes, covered in a thick coat of pink mascara with large silver glitter dots. Your already flushed cheeks blush further as one of Hwa's long fingers slips into the warm, inviting wetness of your mouth, and you give a barely audible moan as you feel the honeyed saltiness of his golden skin on your tongue. The first finger is quickly followed by a second and then a third, and you clutch your lips lightly around them. The long phalanges press harder against the base of your soft tongue because of what his fingertips sliding deeper into your throat. The silky, narrow walls quiver slightly at the intrusion, in a reflexive attempt to push the long appendages out, but you still keep your mouth open and motionless.

Seonghwa languidly strokes your delicate, slippery tongue, groping the inside of your cheeks, tracing the ridges of your palate and the rows of small, pearly teeth before his fingertips slip back into the depths of your throat. Your saliva runs copiously down the length of his phalanges into the palm of his hand. It dripping from the corners of your mouth, falling in thick droplets from the edge of your jaw onto your tits covered with bite marks and dark purple hickeys. You cover your eyes and open your sticky, plump lips wider for Seonghwa as you let him play with your mouth the way he wants to.

From the side, this scene looks so fucking stunning—dirty, wet, lewd—but despite all that, there's still a certain exquisite eroticism and perverse luxury that's an essential part of sex-art films. And that's what makes Pink Star Productions' films so popular and highly rated, although you have to admit that Seonghwa's beautiful, wiry cock and fuckable mouth played no small part in this. Fucking Seonghwa was like fucking a god, but in contrast to the second one, Hwa liked to spray his cum on the face instead of the pussy.

Through the loud sounds of Hwa's hoarse, lingering moans and sighs, mixed with your heavy breathing and the wet, gurgling sound you make as you choke around the long fingers shoved down your throat, you can hear the praise and enthusiastic comments from the staff about how this film is going to make them a hell of a lot of money and how you and Seonghwa look perfect in the frame. You mentally pat yourself on the back and say, 'Well done, babe, you're doing a great job. Keep fucking." And you relax completely, plunging headlong into the sensation of Hwa's long fingers insistently riding in your pliable mouth.

"Ah, my baby angel, just look at you; you've made such a big mess. The sweet little slut has been drooling for me." Thin, stringy strands of drool stretch from your lips to Seonghwa's fingertips as he pulls long appendages from your warm mouth.

He brings his fingers, smeared with a mixture of drool and sugary lip gloss, up to his fuckable mouth, only to obscene move his tongue between them in a graphic imitation of greedy, skilful cunt licking. This messy but no less sexy spectacle makes your pussy clench around nothing, causing even more clear, viscous fluid to spurt from your quivering little hole, soaking your folds and coating your plump labia with a sticky glaze. Seonghwa does this a few more times, each one more lewd and dirty than the last; it's such a sinful sight you almost want to cover your eyes in embarrassment. His eyes roll back in pleasure, and Hwa moans so loudly and lewdly as if you were once again holding his firm, velvety testicles in your moist, warm mouth, caressing and licking them with your tongue while the pad of your thumb rubs the swollen, dark pink head of his beautiful, thick cock.

Seonghwa, tilting his head slightly to the side, looks up at you with heavy siren eyes, his tongue continuing to slide relentlessly between his spread V-shaped fingers, and you know exactly what his gaze means. Your hand slides between your juicy, thick thighs to run its fingers around your swollen, flushed clit, shamelessly caressing yourself to the sound of Hwa's pornographic moans, before you slap your dainty palm on your plump, sticky cunt a few times, causing you to squirt immediately.

"Ah, f-fuck... Seonghwa. I feel so goddamn good..." You sob loudly as you rub the entire surface of your palm quickly and sloppily over your trembling, tender folds, splashing your juices around even more intensely. "Fuck, you make me feel so fucking good.".

Seonghwa's entire body is glistening with the luxurious shimmering oil, drops of sweat dripping down the smooth relief of his heaving chest and his pronounced six-pack abs. The massive girth of his beautiful cock presses perfectly against his flat stomach; a clear, viscous liquid oozes from the swollen, dark pink head and trickles down the silky length, coating it with a thick layer of glaze, making his cock gleam faintly in the dim light of the film set. You want to take it back into your mouth to suck it like candy, and you unconsciously lick your lips, hoping to taste his cum on your tongue again. From the outside, Hwa looks so relaxed and at ease, but you can see how the golden muscles of his thighs are quivering and tensing with suppressed excitement underneath the smooth, wet, heated skin.

"Mmm, it really is, my precious baby angel." Seonghwa purrs and smiles at you lustfully. "But words are not enough. Don't be shy, gorgeous. Show me that sweet little cunt of yours." He languidly licks his fuckable, filthy mouth, watching unashamedly as your fingers obediently pull your plump labia apart to expose your tight, oozing-with-arousal hole. "What a lovely pink cunt you have there, my angel. You know, darling, cunts like yours I like to fuck raw.Fuck, just the thought of your sweet, tender hole licking my cock as I pull you onto my thick length like a fucking glove could make me cum. I bet you'd be the perfect sleeve for my cock." Seonghwa's voice is deep and husky, and your skin is tingling with excitement, as if he's sending a faint charge of electricity through it. There's a hungry look on his devilishly handsome face, his lush lips curling into a sensual smile, his dark, glossy eyes glittering like bottomless black holes, seductive and dangerous, and you catch your breath at the sight of him.

He looks like a goddamn deity, and you can barely contain your excitement as you continue to act like a professional, trying your best to restrain yourself from starting to beg him to fuck you right here and now.

You and Seonghwa still have a few scenes to shoot before you get to the main part of the film, the one where he fucks you with his big, wiry cock, and damn, you hope that Hwa will do exactly what he said he would do—fuck you raw. Well, in the meantime, Hwa's two long fingers are slipping between your slutty lips again and he starts to fuck you in your mouth to the sweet rhythm of your moaning and whimpering. Seonghwa moves his fingers back and forth, over and over again, riding your tongue with them, occasionally thrusting them so deep into your throat that you begin to choke. The soft, slippery walls of your throat clench around the long, elegant appendages, either wanting to push them out or the opposite, wanting to let them in even deeper.

'Oh God...Hwa.' You let out a breath as he gives you a brief pause, giving you a chance to get your breathing back to normal and to swallow the drool that has collected in your mouth. You can barely remember your lines and the story as a whole; your brain is practically refusing to function, and all your thoughts are unfocused and confused. All you can concentrate on is the hot, tugging feeling of arousal in the pit of your stomach and how badly you want to be fucked in all your holes. "Seonghwa, I need this so much... please..." You fall silent, feigning innocence, and shyly bite down on your plump lower lip.

"And what do you want, my slutty little angel?' Seonghwa asks, running the tip of his long, pointed tongue over his fuckable, overly plump lips in anticipation. And even though he knows exactly what you are going to ask him, it doesn't make the whole situation any less dirty and erotic.

"Mmm, Seonghwa... I want...' You stopped speaking halfway through the sentence, paused dramatically, and looked at Seonghwa with big, wet eyes through your thickly painted pink eyelashes. ‘I want to...’ You start again, sugary pouting your swollen lips, and you hope that your mouth smeared with drool, cum, and glistening lip gloss looks good enough to make anyone watching this film want to spurt their cum on your tongue. ‘I want your tongue, please, Hwa.’

"Ah, so that's what this is about, angel. You want my tongue, don't you? You know, beautiful, you should be more specific about what you want, baby. You want to feel my tongue deep inside your needy little cunt, or maybe I should tickle your pretty, sweet clit. Oh, I know, baby, I bet you're thinking about me spreading your thick, juicy cheeks and licking you between them, or would it be better if I rubbed my tongue over your firm, tantalising nipples, huh? There are so many things I can do to you, angel." Seonghwa purrs, and in the deep, velvety tone of his voice, there's a sensual promise of the dirtiest and hottest pleasures that sends shivers of excitement through your body.

Oh shit, that sounds way too kinky and filthy, even for a porno. How the hell are you supposed to stay professional and stick to the script when he talks to you like that? Sure, you've heard rumours that Seonghwa was damn good at dirty talk and had an amazing way with words, but you couldn't even imagine that much. Fuck, this stunning pink star really did have a magnificent, skilful mouth, and not only when it came to eating pussy.

'I... I want to...' You stammer out the words a little, shyly lowering your eyes to the ground and pretending that you're really embarrassed by what you're about to ask him to do. From the outside, you have an almost innocent look on your face, which fits the story perfectly, but all your actions and words are nothing more than an exquisite illusion—if you and Hwa were alone right now, you'd have been riding on his cock or that unjustly beautiful face a long time ago. "I... I want you to fuck my throat with your tongue." You breathe out softly. The honeyed tone of your voice licks against golden, sweaty Seonghwa's skin, and out of the corner of your eye, you notice his cock twitching at the luscious, sticky notes in your words, and you barely hold back a victorious, smug grin, instead pouting your pretty lips even more and spreading your legs wider for him so that Hwa can enjoy the sight of your glistening, sugar nectar oozing from your little cunt. "Please, Seonghwa... I want it so bad..." You add even more softly.

'There you are, my angel." The deep, velvety sound of Seonghwa's voice reminds you of the seductive purr of a big cat of prey. He stretches his hand out to your face, running the knuckles of his graceful fingers over your soft, flushed cheek in a loving gesture. "How can I say no to you when you are behaving in such an obedient and sweet manner towards me?" Songhwa's touch was barely perceptible against your flushed, heated skin—airy and weightless, yet there was something so sinful and solid about it all that it almost made you lose your mind.

You can barely keep yourself from falling into subspace from all the sensual, lustful, purring praise flying off from Hwa's lush, unjustly beautiful lips. Every single letter he utters feels more like a lingering, scalding kiss that takes your breath away and makes your toes curl. But in Seonghwa's case, it's more like the feel of a skilled tongue sliding roughly and insatiably over your swollen clit, or the slight burning sensation of stretching as the thick, swollen head of his cock slowly pushes into your tight, needy cunt.

Fuck, it seems like you still haven't fully recovered from the feelings and emotions you felt during your last shoot with Yunho, and right now it's all just intensified, fuelled by Seonghwa's dark sexual energy. Now you should be more careful and make sure that you don't fall into your submissive subspace. You're also making a mental note to warn your agent never to schedule another shoot with that fucking slutty siren in the future right after you've had your brains completely fucked by a professional hardcore dom.

But you don't have too much time to think about it, because Seonghwa has stopped caressing your face and has wrapped his elegant hand around your thin, delicate neck instead. His grip tightens, and his magnetic, glossy-black eyes flash with childish delight as his actions cause a faint, treacherous half moan of pure ecstasy to erupt from your chest.

And maybe his hand wasn't as big as Yunho's to almost completely wrap around your neck, or as rough and possessive as Mingi's, but still, you had to admit, Hwa was doing an excellent job of effectively choking you to the point where black dots began to appear in your peripheral vision and fireworks began to erupt under your skin. You are absolutely sure that if he were to spit in your mouth right now, you would come without being touched.

But you know you should keep this hot fantasy to yourself, at least for now, and maybe the next time you make a film for Pink Star Productions, Seonghwa will fuck you like a bitch in heat—rough and hard, choking you and spitting in your mouth and pussy and maybe even on your tits, as he will stuff all your holes with his amazingly thick, sinewy cock.

This image is so vivid and real in your mind that your pretty pussy tingles with sensual anticipation. It spurting out a fresh batch of viscous fluid that coats your lecherously open labia with a transparent glaze. You're sure that your cunt looks so appetising right now that you'd lick yourself if you could. And it makes you wish that you and Hwa would just move on to the next scene where he pushes his beautiful, divine face between your legs.

However, if you don't get to shoot a cunnilingus scene today, you can take the shameless, cheeky vixen who concurrently is Seonghwa's assistant home with you. And you have to say that Wooyoung looks just as attractive and fuckable as his employer, so you won't be too upset if he is the one whose face you bury in your cunt tonight.

"Come on, baby angel, open that little mouth of yours." Seonghwa orders you once more, and this time there's nothing but pure sex in his deep voice. He doesn't have to repeat himself twice, because your lips are parted at once, and your soft tongue is sticking out just to meet the flow of warm, viscous saliva that Hwa is spitting into your expectant mouth. He purrs contentedly at the sight of the thick drop of liquid rolling down your rosy, silky appendage. "Swallow, gorgeous." And you obey, greedily swallowing everything he's given you. "You're the sweetest, most obedient girl, aren't you? Keep it up and I'll let you call me Mommy."

Oh fuck, and here you were thinking that Seonghwa couldn't get any hotter, but Hwa seemed to be ready to prove you wrong. You weren't new to this; you've been in a couple of movies with the 'mommy' kink in boys before, and the last one was literally a couple of weeks ago. You have to say it was a fucking incredible experience. When you first met Yeosang on set, you were expecting you and him to have another 'vanilla' scene, with a meagre and simple set of positions and a classic creampie. But hell, you had no idea that this enchanting Tinker Bell would fuck you so hard you literally couldn't walk. And the way he made you rub your pussy against his gorgeous, chiselled abs until you squirted all over him as he spanked your tits and fingered your mouth, you're not even starting to talk about it. So the thought of what Mommy Seonghwa might be able to do to you is making your cunt quiver.

You hold your breath as Seonghwa suddenly leans so close to your face that you can feel his hot, wet breath washing over your open, pink mouth. This is it, damn it; he's going to fuck your mouth with his tongue right now.

'Please...' You whimper into his luxurious, pornographic mouth, and you don't know if you're following the script or if you're really begging him. But whatever it is, it doesn't matter at all, especially when Seonghwa's long, slippery tongue slides a little roughly between your lips and takes up residence in the warm, inviting wetness of your craving mouth.

At the first touch of his hot, wet appendage against your tongue, you let out a high, obscene moan that turns into a pitiful whimper as Seonghwa insistently pushes his tongue deeper past your lips, filling all the small space of your mouth that you have to offer him. He slides further along your tongue and deeper into your throat, and you start to choke, but Hwa's elegant hand on your neck holds you in place, preventing you from pulling away.

Enough drool pours from your open mouth that it begins to drip down your face and onto your large, plump tits. It runs down the soft flesh in clear, cooling streams until your saliva covers your hard, swollen nipples with a glistening layer of moisture.

You are so lost in the sensation of Seonghwa's feverishly hot breath and soft, long tongue that you are completely unaware of the way his free hand reaches up to your breast to run his fingertips over your pretty, sensitive nipples. By now you have become so highly aroused that even this slight stimulation is enough to send a shiver down your entire body and cause a loud sigh of pleasure to escape from you.

The way the walls of your throat move apart at that sound is perfect for Seonghwa's tongue to penetrate even deeper until it's completely inside of you and your lips finally meet in a kinky, dirty kiss. Seonghwa lets out a low, satisfied growl that comes from deep inside his chest, and you can feel how your sticky cunt, bleeding with desire, clenches at the sound of it.

Seonghwa's tongue wriggles down your throat, licking and caressing the hot, quivering walls that contract around the fleshy, skilful appendage. Your own tongue presses against the base of your mouth, moving weakly in a reciprocal caress, hoping to give Hwa exactly the same pleasure you're experiencing right now. You can barely make a sound other than a pitiful whimper, muffled by the long tongue snaking its way down your mouth and throat.

Damn, until today you had no idea that something like this could be so pleasurable, or even possible at all. The whole concept of fucking throat with someone's tongue was pretty dodgy, and you had to ask your agent a few times to make sure you got it right. But God, whether it was because Seonghwa had an incredibly talented, skilful, and very long tongue, or because it was just incredibly pleasurable and you found your new kink, it doesn't matter at all, because you really enjoyed what was going on, and you definitely want to try this with your other sex partners as well.

It seems like an eternity before Hwa pulls away from you, his tongue slipping out of your mouth with an embarrassingly loud squelch and a stream of saliva pouring out of your swollen, exhausted lips almost like a waterfall. And maybe a lot of people would find that disgusting, but not Seonghwa, as he can't help himself but greedily and lewdly lick your mouth, spectacularly licking up all the drool that has mixed with your lusciously sweet lip gloss.

'Seonghwa...' You whisper in a cracked voice. Your lungs are still burning from the lack of oxygen, and your thighs are trembling from the uncomfortable position you've been in for so long, but it's all nothing compared to the incredible feeling of lust and excitement you're experiencing right now.

And maybe all that languid, art porn aesthetic was much worse than the rough and fast hardcore scenario, at least you'd know that your pussy and ass would not be empty for a second in a one-on-one scenes with Hongjoong or Mingi, unlike Seonghwa who seemed to prefer to shake your brains out completely by making you nothing more than his cute, empty-headed cockslut before he filling your hole with his amazing cock. Damn, sometimes you really miss being filmed in a gangbang, when all you had to do was spread your legs and take one cock after another, and sometimes even several at the same time.

As if he could read your mind, Seonghwa lets out a grim chuckle and finally lets go of the palm of his hand on your throat, letting it slide down your body instead, before he slaps your pussy a little viciously, making you squirt for him right away.

'Ah, fuck!' You scream as a stream of liquid spurts out of your quivering hole, splashing everywhere and it gathering in a puddle on the floor beneath you.

"I'm not done with you yet, gorgeous." Hwa whispers in a sultry voice before he presses his lips against your mouth again.

This time it's completely different, his tongue immediately penetrates your mouth completely, wriggling and penetrating deep into your throat like you've never experienced before. What he gave you before was a just preparation for that, but the fucking training season is over and now Seonghwa is absolutely ruthless with you. His hand returns to your neck, only to wrap his fingers tightly around it, choking you and turning your throat into the perfect vessel for his tongue to fuck you with.

You begin to choke again, gurgling and panting as the hot appendage snakes and twists between your tight walls. You love it so much, all that burning, painful sensation mixed with almost euphoric pleasure, and you start to cry, unable to contain yourself. Thick tears flow from your eyes, streaming down your flushed face in a mixture of pink mascara and glitter, and you barely manage to wipe the heavy drops from your doll-like, clumpy eyelashes and lift your eyes up to meet the black, magnetic holes of Seonghwa's irises. Those incredible, fierce siren eyes watch you sob for him with pleasure as you fall apart, sinking into complete and utter submission.

In and out, over and over again, his tongue moving in a strange, serpentine rhythm that you can't understand, but to be honest, you don't really try, not when he pulls away from you for a second just to whisper right into your lips.

"Go and fuck yourself with your sweet fingers, my angel. Squirt for me again, I want to see that pussy all wet and fucked." How the hell are you going to look at other men after that? Okay, maybe you're exaggerating, because there's still San and his awesome nine-inch cock, but still. But that's something you'll have to think about later, because Seonghwa's tongue comes back to your mouth and immediately slides in deeper, and your hand finds a place on your silky, slime-covered folds of your cunt to start caressing yourself as Hwa told you to do.

You try to adjust to the rhythm of the thrust of his tongue down your throat, first inserting a one finger into your tiny, tender hole, quickly followed by a second one, but it's no use as Hwa does something inexplicable in your mouth, literally drinking your breath and completely taking you under his control. You feel as if you're intoxicated, your fingers moving almost automatically, stretching your hole and rubbing against the silky, slippery walls of your pretty cunt. This continues for a few moments before a final hard thrust of Seonghwa's tongue down your throat, accompanied by the pads of your fingers finally pressing against your sweet spot, brings you to orgasm.

Your eyes roll back from the overwhelming, sharp pleasure coursing through your entire body; your hips quiver, your pussy squirts, pushing your fingers out with a copious stream of your juice, and a rough, squeezed sound of ecstasy erupts from deep in your throat. Holy fuck. It's a fucking out-of-body experience. And all because of his tongue; you can't imagine what his cock will do to you then.

As you collapse helplessly in his arms, your throat still tightens and your mouth opens wider so that Hwa can lick you clean one last time. His long tongue wraps around your swollen lips, then your jaw, licking up everything you have to offer and savouring the taste of your skin.

"And, cut!" The director's voice breaks, and the room erupts in loud applause and praise for a job well done.

'Breathe, beautiful.' Seonghwa whispers, and you have to gather what little consciousness and professionalism you have left after such an overwhelming orgasm to look at him and heed his words. You do as Hwa tells you and take a few deep, calm breaths. "You did a great job today, Y/N. Too bad we're running out of time to film cunnilingus tonight, but how about a private rehearsal? And maybe you wouldn't mind if Wooyoung joined us; after all, he was the one who found you."

You turn your head slightly in the direction where the crew and cameramen are crowded around the monitors to watch the replay of your and Hwa's scene tonight. But you have little interest in all these people; your eyes are searching for someone in particular, and when you finally catch a glimpse of the relaxed, slightly cocky figure of Seonghwa's personal assistant, Jung Wooyoung, you are greeted with a lecherous grin and a hot, dark, foxy gaze that can't seem to tear itself away from your heaving bare breasts for more than a second.

"Ooh, I don't mind at all, you know. He seems to have a thing for boobs." You giggle as you pull away from Seonghwa and look around for your robe.

"Here.' Hwa holds a black silk dressing gown in front of you, which you gratefully take from him before you pull the soft, cool material over your heated, naked body. "Hmm, you're right, yes, Woo loves tits, but he has many different sides to him, and I'm more than sure he'd love to show them off tonight."

"That sounds very promising, Hwa." You smile and head for your dressing room. You stop for a moment at the closed door, turn over your shoulder, and give Seonghwa your best seductive smile and heavy bedroom eyes. "And I hope you'll show me your special sides too, Seonghwa. I've been told that a beautiful pink star can easily make someone faint from orgasm; I really hope that's exactly what you're going to do to me tonight."

❣ ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ❣ Part I @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism @mxnsxngie @nenefix-on @therealcuppicake @annafeebou @sharksandminhos @@lixies-pixieboy @@vampzity @0rangemilk @yellow-foxxing @claimmeyourprincess

❣ ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ❣ Part II @unholywriters @hey-syia @hrts4nohee @vnessalau @mlink64 @tessakleine @fr34k4c1dr41n @313hwa @lilyuwon @tiziamattaga @un-knew @wiaxul @siyah-staryis @seonghwasbbgirl @mingisfavgf @bunnyluvr25 @roserperfume @lose-lose07 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @lelaleleb @bubblebisk @silverlight-h @ chloe-elise-2000 @cookiesandcreammy @mxnsxngie @ghostlovesworld @i-love-ateez @mingisprincesss @vampscan @peachygiku @vampqueen777 @miyaluvvsyou @stay-tiny-things @moondanse94 @thyvessel

❣ ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ❣ Part III @yyaurii @infrenchexit @sanniesbum @jaxyy219 @lostxxgirl @m1sss1mp @manipulatedstars @cotton-candycloudz @kienhawon @flowerxsin @londonbridges01 @fluffyyongbokie @sang-09 @hobarihope @sanniesaur @luvbit3z @sanriomilk @s4erin @sanhwalvr @mallielovssyou @slytherinslays @your-bloodbag @cherricola-star @passionandsuga @hwasangel @yyaurii @nevermoreraven1 @life-is-a-game-of-thrones @unholywriters @mortal-advocate

[finelinevogue]

useless

summary - azriel helps you put your shirt on after you’ve broken your arm

word count - +1k

🦇•🤎•🦇•🤎•🦇•🤎•🦇•🤎•🦇•🤎•🦇•🤎•🦇

“You’re going to hurt yourself.”

You huffed in annoyance at Azriel stating the obvious, not because he was stating the obvious but because of what he was talking about.

“It’s not my fault I broke my arm.” You pouted.

You groaned and threw your shirt to the ground, giving up completely with trying to put it on.

Azriel was clearly taunting you as he slipped a shirt over his head, his wings popping out the back.

You gave him the dead-eye look as he crossed his tanned arms across his chest, raising one of his eyebrows as he watched you.

Damn him and his beauty.

“What’s going on here?” Cassian opened your bedroom door to peak in.

“Y/N’s being a brat:” Azriel said quickly, not looking away from you.

“Riight… I’m going to leave whatever weird foreplay thing is going on here…” Cassian said awkwardly, leaving the room slowly and shutting the door behind him.

Azriel didn’t crack a smile, but you unfortunately did.

You quickly wiped the smirk off your face though, knowing Azriel would take advantage of it somehow.

“You wish this was foreplay, but the only action you’re getting tonight is with your own hand.” You muttered to Azriel.

You wandered past him with your shirt and onto the balcony just off to the side of your room, needing some air before you tried again.

If it weren’t for those rebels in the city you wouldn’t have fallen, which means your arm would still be fine. As it happens, though, the rebels were more important to seek out and get rid of than you and your arm. If a broken arm was the result of stopping bad people do bad things, then so be it.

Didn’t stop it from being annoying to deal with.

Simple chores were now a pain to do.

Things like making a cup of tea, or making Azriel dinner, cleaning or writing up reports for Rhysand were near impossible now. It left you very dependent on others - on your mate, Azriel.

“Will you stop being so stubborn.” Azriel said from where he stood, leaning against the door frame to the balcony.

“Stop, Azriel.”

He sighed knowing you were getting frustrated - something he knew because you never used his full name with him.

“I didn’t realise me trying to help you make me a jerk.” He said bravely.

Sometimes they key with you was to keep pushing.

You scrunched up your shirt and threw it onto the floor.

You walked to the stone balcony, holding your broken arm in your other and cupping them protectively across your chest.

The sun had set perfectly and there were a mesmerising number of twinkling stars watching over you in that moment. The sky was as dark as Azriel’s shadows—

Azriel.

You were the jerk, not him. You sighed heavily, dipping your chin and tugging softly on the golden bond to see if you could fix this situation you’d made a mess of.

The comfort quite literally encased you as Azriel’s arms came to prop up against the balcony on each side of your body, propping his chin on the shoulder of your good arm.

His chest moulded against your back and your body instantly deflated, feeling so comforted by Azriel’s presence.

“I’m right here.” Azriel said, pulling the bond gently in gesture.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” He said, kissing your neck carefully in hopes that it would continue to calm you.

“I’ve been so horrible.”

“I don’t think so.” You could feel Azriel shaking his head slightly against your shoulder. “Look at me, come here.”

Azriel stood back, twisting you around to face him with your back against the balcony.

Your arm was still held in your other and Azriel cupped your cheeks delicately - he knew how much you loved the feeling of his skin against yours. He could feel your love pour down the bond as his scarred fingers brushed over your cheeks.

“I feel useless.” You admitted, looking into his soft hazel eyes.

“Okay.” He prompted you to continue.

“Since I broke my arm I can’t do anything and I feel like I’m being a waste of space - especially if I’m taking you away from important things just to help me dress myself.”

“Are you done?”

“No. If I had just…”

Azriel’s thumb shifts from your cheek to press against your lips, stopping you from speaking.

“That was rhetorical.” He removed his thumb as he spoke, “You are not useless. You’re the damn most important thing in my life and I’ll not have you thinking that you’re anything less than that. Y/N, love, you helped stopped a group of bad people from bringing terror to our city. I’d say that’s nothing short of heroic. So enough with the uselessness thoughts. I enjoy waiting on you, making you breakfast in bed, helping you with paperwork. Every moment we’re together is enough for me, whether you’ve got a broken arm or not.”

You smiled properly for the first time in a while.

Whilst your mate tells you you’re perfect every chance he gets, it doesn’t hurt to hear him say it like that.

“What?” Azriel asked, watching the glint in your eyes sparkle as bright as those stars on the backdrop above you.

“Help me put on my top?”

“Or you could just help me take mine off…” He said suggestively.

You gave him a smirk and pushed him back into the room, watching him take off his own shirt and throw it on the floor. You didn’t care for where it landed. All you cared about was your beautiful mate in front of you and showing him how helpful you can actually be.

[grapejuice32]

New Years Eve

Rafe Cameron x reader

Notes: Happy New Year my loves!

Dazed, you threw your head back, Rafe's fast pace quickly pushing you over the edge a second third time, his grip on your hips so tight that it would definitely leave bruises, not that you cared, and to was probably his goal.

"oh my god," you panted, eyes squeezing shut as your back arched off of the mattress. One of Rafe's hand quickly left your hip, he gripped your face between his fingers, squishing your cheeks together.

"Eyes on me, want y'to see who's makin' y'feel so good," he borderline growled, you whined, your eyes opening, not wanting to go against his wishes and have him stop. His hand slid down from your face to the base of your neck, before you knew it, he held it in a tight grip, restricting your air flow just right. It was obvious from the loud moan you let out, one of your hands abandoning its post on his back to grip his wrist, pushing his hand down on your neck harder, "yeah, y'like that?"

You could only respond with the breathy moans that were leaving your mouth, not able to muster the words. Rafe chuckled condescendingly, "fuck look at you, takin' everythin' I give," he leant down briefly to press a chaste kiss to your lips, "didn't go out t'get drunk with y'friends so y'could stay here and get all cockdrunk, huh, like the dirty slut y'are, ain't that right baby?"

No response left you, just desperate whines, the hand you still had on his back clawing into his sun kissed skin, "Hey," he spoke, his voice forceful, his hand on your hip briefly leaving to lightly slap your cheek, "pay attention, aight? Otherwise 'm got' stop."

Your breath hitched in panic at the sheer thought of him stopping, "nonono," you shook your head so fast it was surprising that you didn't have whiplash.

"Look at you, y'so desperate 's almost pitiful," he falsely pouted, the cruel gleam in his eyes contradicting the look on his face.

Tears lined your eyes, you weren't sure why, but they did nonetheless, "Please, don't stop, 's so good."

"Then say it," he encouraged, his thrusts coming to a slow, instantly drawing a displeased sigh from you.

You blinked, feeling slightly clouded in your head, "what?"

He tutted in disappointment, "Say that you stayed home so I could fuck you like the dirty slut you are." He gave you one last thrust before stilling all together.

"Y-yes, 'm sorry, please don't stop," you begged desperately, "I stayed home, so you could, so you could fuck me. Please Rafey."

"Please Rafey," he mocked, picking up the pace again, his thrusts harsher than before, "y'so pathetic, beggin' me like y've not been fucked in weeks," his hand left your hip to rub at your clit in a fast circular motion, "when y'know damn well I had y'cummin' round my fingers this morning' in the shower, huh? Jus' can't get enough?"

You nodded in agreement, not to anything in particular, but just because you didn't know how else to react. "Fuck," he groaned, laying his forehead against yours, " 's not your fault 's it? Y'jus' like feelin' good, don't you, baby?"

You only responded with a series of quiet "Mhm's", your legs tightening around your waist as you came around him, your mouth with no sound escaping in sheer ecstasy.

"There y'go, doin' so good f'me, sweet girl," he praised, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead, his thrusts didn't cease though as he chased his high.

" 'S too much," you cried, humming in happily as his hand left your neck to intertwine with your own that had previously been gripping his wrist.

He lay his face in your neck and whispered, " 'M nearly there," he paused in between his words to press and open mouthed kiss to your neck, " 'makin' me feel so good, baby." It didn't take long before his hips stuttered as he came inside of you, his own small moans filling the room before he stopped his movements, laying on you in silence for a minute before he slowly pulled out, causing you to wince.

He lay on his side, catching his breath before he stood, his hand still intertwined with your own. He hoisted you up in his arms, knowing you'd be sore and took you to the bathroom, helping you clean up. He took you back to your shared room and placed you in the bed, pressing a kiss to your hairline and murmuring that he'd be back. When he returned, he had two cold glasses of water in his hands, he placed them both on his bedside table and climbed into bed besides you. He held a glass towards you and got you to drink some, pulling you into his chest after you had done so.

His hand ran through your hair soothingly, the other placed on your bare thigh that was thrown across his hips, "Y'feelin' okay, sweet girl?" Again you only responded with a sleepy 'mhm', your face nestled against his chest, "y'very quiet, feelin' all fuzzy in y'head?" You only nodded, glad he could read you so you didn't have to explain, "did so well f'me." He whispered, almost assuredly, something he knew you needed want to hear.

He glanced over your shoulder to the digital clock on your besides table, smiling as he read the time, 00:00, "Happy New Year, baby," he leant down, pressing kiss to your lips who you reciprocated instantly, an identical smile on your lips, "I love you, can't wait to spend another year together."

Please lmk what you guys think, I'd love to hear from you! I'll also be happy to try and write any requests you may have <3

[deathsmallcaps]

I used to drink raw goat milk but that’s because I knew the goats and their living conditions AND what they ate because *I* was the farmhand. And the farm I was working at was too little to actually sell it. I did have clearer skin when I drank it and used the soap made from their milk, but I think that had more to do with the fact it was goat milk than it was raw.

Some bitchass Doylestown neglector farmer that I knew though? Touched her goats’ milk once when I was a teen and I could taste the difference. She kept her goats like they were pound dogs. She ran away to Belize this year because of the allegations that I KNOW to be true.

This is why keeping milk clean is imperative. If you cannot know the living conditions of the animal its from, you cannot know the diseases to which they were exposed. While I was taking a risk my drinking the milk of the goats that I knew personally - because we didn’t keep them in lab conditions, we kept them in happy goat conditions, which means they still experienced life and its foibles - I could trust it. Same thing goes for when they had their cow.

I know I’m preaching to the choir here, but how well do you know that little farm stand selling those eggs? Have you seen the conditions the chickens have lived within? What about your milk animals? Your meat animals? If you cannot know, then make sure it’s at least FDA approved. The Trump administration is likely going to lower the standards, but it’s better than having no standards at all.

[btw a good way to tell if chickens are at least getting good nutrition is if the yolks look more orangey and the shells are a little hard to crack. That means the hen is getting what she needs to create good eggs.]

Anyways, goat pictures from this summer :)!

The raw milk people don’t even know what raw milk is

[papaya-twinks]

a kids’ fairytale - l.n

Warnings: single!father, single!mother, swearing, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sex, anxiety, picking nails/skin

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: Having a child so young hadn’t exactly been Lando’s idea of a fairytale, but what happened next, well, more suited to his kind of story ✨

Having a child so young hadn’t been Lando’s idea of a fairy tale dream.

Lando had been 20 at the time - young and reckless. Too reckless.

A night of drinks and rowdiness, ending up with his girlfriend, who was also 20, pregnant with a child she didn’t want - and child she was angry at Lando for having put in her.

And as much as he pleaded and begged her to stay once his little baby girl was born - she wouldn’t.

In her words, she didn’t want to live with Lando from mistakes he had made.

And that hurt him. A hell of a lot more than he’d like to admit.

Because he loved his little girl, a hell of a lot more than that bimbo who’d walked out on him.

And besides, little Honey looked so much like Lando, you wouldn’t have even guessed there was another person involved if biology didn’t exist.

She had his gorgeous, chocolate brown ringlets, shimmering green eyes, and a heart of gold.

Just like her father.

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Now you, on the other hand. A similar story, but inverted. A father who didn’t care so much for you or your child, and mistakes when you were 19.

That left you and your poor boy, Alec, to fend for yourself.

But you worked hard, you weren’t the kind of person to wallow in mistakes you’d made when you were younger, and you’d worked.

You’d worked for so long, trying your best to provide food for your child, and soon enough, a promotion for your dedication catapulted you to the success that brought your child happiness.

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“You excited, baby?” Lando smiled, kneeling down in front of his daughter.

Honey nodded gleefully, her eyes bright and shining as her father squeezed her hand.

Since she was born, Lando had made it his mission to give her the upbringing any and every child deserved, and he tried his best to fill in the place of a mother as best he could.

And so, he’d spent hours when she was only two, sitting In his room for ages past midnight brushing the head of a mannequin, and learning how to braid.

And he was never prouder, as he looked at the beautiful girl that was his daughter, her hair tied in pigtails he has tied, with little bows on the end, just like she’d asked for.

“Daddy, I’m gonna make so many friends!” she squealed, clutching at his hand.

“Never been surer,” he said, gently rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.

“Everyone’s gonna like you, beans,”.

He’d conveniently put a hoodie and an oversized coat on, enough to cover up his identity so the attention wasn’t taken away from his daughter’s first day at school.

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“Mama, what if no one wants to be friends with me?” Alec said, chewing on his nails.

“Hey, hey,” you scolded, “none of that now,”.

“Don’t be silly, baby, everyone’s gonna wanna be your friend, won’t they?

“Mama, I’m not sure,” he said, still picking and chewing at the skin around his nails.

You gently took his smaller hand in your, giving it a squeezers you looked into his scared, puppy-looking eyes.

“Baby, I promise you, it’s gonna be fine, okay?” you said, examining the little cut on his finger where he’d picked off the skin.

Half the time, you were tempted to put his baby mittens back on to keep him from doing this.

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The walk to school was a quiet, yet comfortable silence.

You were hand in hand with your little boy, his backpack slung over your shoulder.

“I spy, with my little eye…” he looked around, his eyes flickering from place to place.

You’d decided that maybe playing a game would distract him from the nerves of starting at this school and ease the little cogs working in the back of his mind.

“…something beginning with…G!”.

“Hmmm,” you said, playing along, “garbage can!” you said, looking around.

“Nuh-uh, Mama, try again!”.

“Gate…Glasses….Girraffe!” you laughed as he squeezed at your hand! laughing as much as you were.

“No mama!” Alec laughed, “there’s not a giraffe anywhere!”

“Maybe there is….no what was it, then?”.

“Girl!” he pointed at a brunette girl in the distance, who looked equally as shy as him, holding her father’s hand.

Interesting.

You usually didn’t see fathers dropping their kids off to school or anything….

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Lando was standing anxiously in line, painfully aware of the whispers between the other parents, particularly the mothers.

The only other fathers had at least another woman with them, and god, he hated gender stereotypes.

“Daddy, that boy’s pointing at us,” Honey said, tugging on his hand.

“Hm?” Lando hummed, snapping out of his thoughts and following his daughter’s gaze.

She was right, there was indeed a very timid looking at them.

And hand-in-hand with a woman, a very pretty one at that.

Like every new parent, it was his first time doing all…this…parent stuff.

Lando didn’t know whether to be concerned or just ignore it, and regard it as kids being kids…but it was definitely slightly odd.

“Daddy, do we say hi?” Honey whispered as Lando knelt down, thinking for a second.

Meanwhile, you were desperately trying to make Alec put his damn hand down and stop pointing at poor strangers.

“Mama, they saw us,” Alec said, wide-eyed.

“Of course they did, you numpty,” you said, poking him on the nose, “you were pointing at them,”.

Alec pouted at the fact that he’d been ‘caught’, taking your hand as you followed him into the classroom.

“Alec, sweetie, it’s a line,” you said, slightly embarrassed as he walked cluelessly in front of the girl.

“Hey,” she said indignantly, tapping him on the shoulder.

Oh god.

“We were here first,” she said, her tone showing she was clearly not happy with the line cutting on your son’s behalf.

Lando looked just as embarrassed for his own daughter, a light red blush spilling from his cheeks all the way to his ears as he averted his gaze from you.

“Darling, c’mon, let’s not be rude-,” Lando started, his words going completely over Honey’s head.

“Go to the back,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Sorry,” Lando mouthed to you as you nodded, tugging slightly on Alec’s arm.

“C’mon, sweetie, she’s right, no pushing in,” you said, trying to encourage him to move.

But he was frozen still on the spot.

His eyes were wide, brimming with tears as Lando groaned, why did his daughter inherit his attitude as well?

“Honey!” Lando said, kneeling down, “you can’t make people cry!”.

She opened her mouth to bicker but Lando was having none of it, whispering to her as she pouted.

You’d managed to clean some of the spilled tears with your hands, calming him down as he sniffled.

“C’mon, now, no tears on your first day,” you cooed.

Lando looked sympathetic as he watched your cradle your son in your arms, and even Honey looked slightly guilty.

You reluctantly let Alec back down as the teacher let all the children down, not without him giving you a kiss on the cheek, taking his bag and walking slowly behind everyone else.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry-,” Lando started, in sync with you.

You both paused, before laughing, as Lando held his hand out for you to shake.

“I’m…Oscar and my daughter’s Honey,” he said, waiting for you to share your name.

He didn’t know why he had lied, much less why he’d chosen his teammates name, but hey, he’d rather you didn’t know he was famous.

“Y/N, and my one’s Alec,” you said, walking away from the class beside “Oscar”.

(A/N - I’ll refer to him still as Lando except in dialogue so it makes sense 😭)

“They’re tough little things to deal with, aren’t they?” Lando asked, digging his hands into his pockets.

“Tell me about it,” you laughed, your breath puffing in front of your face.

“Much harder when you’re a single parent.” Lando muttered under his breath as you looked up. “What was that?” you asked, cocking your head as he blushed again.

“Nothing, nothing,” he said quickly, “didn’t mean to trauma dump,”.

“No, you said something about single parents,” you said, “you’re…a single parent as well?”.

“Yep,” he grimaced, before pausing.

“Wait, you are as well?” he asked, raising a brow as you nodded; was that so hard to believe.

“Oh, but I thought…nevermind,” he said, shaking his head quickly.

“No, c’mon, share with the class,” you smiled, purposefully adding the school-related pun to the mix as Lando laughed.

“Would’ve thought someone would’ve scooped you up by now, I mean…you’re quite…you know, forgive me for being forward,” he said bashfully, “you’re quite pretty,”.

“Oh,” you blushed, “well thank you very much,”.

“You’re quite good looking yourself,” you added as he laughed, smiling at your compliment.

“You know, I could swear I’ve seen your face somewhere,” you said out of the blue, his body going into alert mode.

No, absolutely not.

He was not about to fuck up this little chance with this very hot pretty and very kind mom by bringing up the fact he was a rich, famous F1 driver.

“No. Probably not,” Lando said, far too quickly, “I have, uh, one of those faces, y’know?”.

“You sure you aren’t famous or anything?” you teased.

“Famous? Uh, little ol’ me?” he laughed, trying to keep himself authentic, “not at all,”.

You just chuckled, digging your own hands into your pockets.

“Well, this is me, so,” you said, gesturing to the dingy little apartment as he nodded.

God forbid you ever saw his grand ass house.

“It was nice meeting you Y/N,” Lando nodded, giving you a wage as you smiled.

“You as well,”.

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As much as you told yourself that maybe you hadn’t seen Lando somewhere, and maybe your mind was playing on tricks on you, it just wouldn’t stop bugging you. 

He definitely wasn’t “one of those faces”. 

Not in the slightest. 

Which other person that you could possibly know could have such perfect, chocolate brown curls, such pretty olive green eyes, such perfect lips-

Hold. Up.

Since Alec had been born, you’d vowed never to go near another man like that, what the fuck? 

What the hell was going on? 

You weren’t some feeble little girl who relented to men who looked the slightest but attractive, not at all…what was this man doing to you? 

You didn’t want Lando to be another mistake.

Not like when you’d be younger and more innocent and more stupid.

But you didn’t have time to worry about who Lando was, if that was even his name, anyways, because Alec needed to be picked up.

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But on that walk to pick up your son, you couldn’t help but think that maybe you were being a bit too cautious.

He had said he was a single parent, so maybe he struggled as well.

You walked into the gates, shivering in the cold once again as you waited for the kids to come out, catching Lando’s eye as you did so.

You gave him a smile, hands buried deep into your packets as you shivered.

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Shit.

Why’s she not coming over? Has she found out who I am? Go,leave, anything but that…

The thoughts were rushing through Lando’s head as he took a breath, deciding to walk over. “Hey,” you smiled as he did so, nodding your head.

“Hi,” he said, “just thought I’d come over whilst we waited for the kids,” he nodded.

“Yeah, okay,” you said, looking to the door. “So, Oscar,” you said, using the name he’d told you, “how’s your daughter been?”.

“Oh, Honey? She’s got an attitude on her, but she’s been an angel,” he gave you a nod, “and Alec?”

“I’m sure she has,” you smiled, “Alec’s more on the introvert side of things,”.

“Yeah,” Lando nodded, “I noticed,”.

“Take after his mother or what?” Lando asked, watching the steady stream of kids pour out, neither of yours in sight.

“Takes after me more than the father, thankfully,” you laughed, “Honey take after you or is she like her mother?” you asked, reflecting the question.

“Definitely in looks,” you added.

“Yeah, she looks a lot like me,” Lando smiled, “she’s taken my attitude as well, which is….yeah,” Lando chuckled.

“Damn, that’s a…change,” you said.

Lando looked up, letting out another laugh as you both watched Honey talking a lot, and Alec standing there and listening to her politely.

“At least they get on,” Lando pointed out as you nodded.

“Hey baby,” you knelt down, leaving Lando to talk to Honey, “how was school, hm?”.

“I made a friend,” Alec said, his eyes lighting up as Honey gave you a wave, making you smile.

This couldn’t have fallen into Lando’s favour this well.

“I saw,” you smiled, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Daddy, can me and Alec go to the park?” Honey asked as you and Lando nodded, walking with them to the nearby park.

“So,” Lando said, “they’re pretty close, i s’ppose,”.

“Right they are,” you said, your doubts as to who Lando was, long forgotten.

“I guess we’re gonna a have to have play dates at each other’s places, then,” you said coolly, watching the kids, missing the way Lando tensed.

“Yeah, yeah, maybe,” Lando said, “I’m doing some renovations at the moment,” he lied, “so I’m not really sure I’ll be able to have anyone round,”.

“Oh that”s fine,” you said, still determined to be suspicious, as you watched the kids play.

“You can bring Honey round mine, and maybe we can have some coffee like grown adults,” you laughed.

“Yeah…I hate coffee,” Lando said, scrunching his nose as you chuckled.

“Me too,” you smiled.

[thef1diary]

You eat with dirtbag!Carlos every time gurl 🤤

Can we have one where reader (her) wants to do it raw and carlos loses his mind 😚🫣

TIA looking forward to it

— thank you!! dirtbag!carlos may not have a breeding kink…yet, but he loves to see his cum drip out of your pussy. 18+ content below

Carlos freezes above you, his dark eyes narrowing as the words sink in. “You want what?” he asks, his voice low, almost disbelieving, though the way his cock twitches against your thigh betrays him.

“I want it raw,” you repeat, your voice soft but steady.

He stares at you for a moment, his lips curling into a wicked smirk that promises nothing good. “Dios mío,” he mutters under his breath, dragging a hand through his messy hair. “You’ve got no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”

“Please, Carlos,” you whisper, arching into him, desperate to close the gap. “I want you to fill me with your cum.”

That’s all it takes for him to give in. In one swift movement, he’s guiding himself to your slick heat, the tip of his cock pressing against you, hot and unyielding. He hesitates for the briefest of moments, his gaze locking on yours, a silent question lingering between you.

When you nod, he thrusts forward, burying his cock in one fluid motion, bare and unrestrained. The sensation is overwhelming—so raw, so intimate, and you can’t stop the loud, broken moan that spills from your lips as he fills you completely.

“Fuck,” Carlos hisses, his hands gripping your hips so tightly it’s almost bruising. “You feel so good—so fucking warm, so tight.” He pulls back just enough to drive into you again, the drag of his cock against your walls making your toes curl.

The pace he sets is merciless, his hips snapping against yours as he drives into you over and over. His chain swings above you, brushing against your skin, while his teeth scrape over your neck to leave marks before the drag of his pierced tongue lightens the pain.

You’re a mess beneath him, clinging to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. Every thrust sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you, the slick sounds of skin on skin and his ragged groans only adding to the filthy heat of the moment.

“This is what you wanted, huh?” he growls, his voice rough and strained. “Wanted me to fuck you raw, fill you up so you can feel it drip out of you?”

“Yes,” you gasp, your head falling back as your body arches into his. “Yes, Carlos, please—”

“Good girl,” he bites out, his rhythm faltering as his orgasm approaches. “You’re gonna take it, nena. Every fucking drop.”

“Fuck, please, give it to me, wan’ it so bad, Carlos,” you cry out, tightly wrapping your legs around his waist.

“You feel that?” he growls, his voice wrecked as he grips your thighs, holding you closer to him. “Feel how deep I am?”

“Yes,” you gasp, tears pricking your eyes from the intensity.

“Good,” he spits, his thrusts growing erratic. “Because I’m gonna fill your pretty pussy.”

The promise sends you over the edge, your body clenching around him as you cry out, the waves of your orgasm crashing over you. Carlos isn’t far behind, burying himself as deep as he can go as he spills into you, his low, guttural moan vibrating against your skin.

But he isn’t gentle, even now. He pulls out suddenly, his cum already dripping from your cunt, and sits back on his heels with a cocky smirk. “Look at you,” he mutters, his fingers spreading your thighs wider to watch the mess he’s made.

You squirm under his gaze, your body still trembling, but he only laughs, leaning down to press a rough, teasing kiss to your lips. “You’re dangerous, princesa,” he murmurs, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Making me lose my mind like that. What the hell am I supposed to do with you now?”

want more dirtbag!carlos? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[scented-morker]

⇢˚⋆ ✎ Three Ways

The three ways sunghoon tells you he loves you before being able to utter the words… 1.6k words, friends to lovers, fem!reader

Park Sunghoon has never been one for flowery words and declarations of love.

In fact, they often made him quite uncomfortable, and he more often than not would be caught responding to the affection with a thumbs up and hardly concealed cringe.

Thankfully, you were plenty comfortable with the words, 'I love you'. An expert, even, at reminding your friends just how much real estate they took up in your heart.

You were the first person that Sunghoon ever truly believed when you said the words. Sure, he knew crushes were real and some girls probably thought their love was true, but you KNEW him. You knew him, and still deemed him precious enough for your favorite three words.

And even though he knew it was in a platonic way, being able to grin softly and ruffle your hair in response was enough for him.

He knew better than to try to reciprocate verbally, fearful of the avalanche that would come if he let himself be truly honest.

The first time Sunghoon said 'I love you' was with a straw wrapper directly to your forehead.

He'd picked you up early in the morning with a blanket in his car so you could nap as he drove the two of you to brunch at an old diner.

You'd been rambling about a new project when his phone rang the first time, and he was listening to you so intently that he didn't even notice it.

It's hard not to blush when you recognize the intensity of his gaze and the way his ringtone fell on deaf ears while watching you.

You're almost glad when it rings again, giving you a quick reprieve to calm your racing heart while he swipes to decline Jake's call.

Sunghoon lets out a sigh as his screen lights up for a third time, and the annoyance on his face is enough to make you let out a bellowing laugh before snatching it out of his hands.

"Today is my Hoon time, you got him yesterday!"

The amusement is evident in your voice, but it still has Sunghoon's heart doing flips.

The fact that you were feeling protective over your time with him, that you wanted no distractions from being in the messy diner with him while he stared at you and offered little to your conversation. It made his heart warm that even in these circumstances, you were focused on time with him.

A stray beam of sunlight chooses that moment to peek through the blinds of the window next to you and he swears it makes you glow like the only person in the room.

The words are on the tip of his tongue when you hang up on his friend, his mouth open like maybe he'll finally have the courage to say it.

You catch him staring, looking up with confusion in your eyes, the twinkle of amusement still there.

You raise an eyebrow at him as a couple beats of silence pass, only to get thwacked in the face with his balled up straw wrapper.

"You monster!" You gasp, and his laughter fills the air.

You're sick with the flu the second time sunghoon almost ruins your friendship.

He finds you curled up under the blanket he'd got you for your birthday last year, the one he got specially made with his face on it.

The sight is ridiculous enough that he would have laughed if you didn't look so miserable.

“I told you this was gonna happen. You should have stayed home yesterday.” He scolds, stepping closer to place a gentle hand against your forehead.

He frowns at the heat of your skin, your fever putting up a valiant effort against the medication you had recently taken.

You pout when he leaves, and it’s still there when he returns with a cold rag in his hand.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

He plays it off as annoyance, but it’s really a cry for help because when you look up at him with shiny eyes and pouty lips it makes him want to say things he shouldn’t.

“I thought you were leaving me.”

His squeezes the rag in tandem with the clenching of his heart, and kneels down on the floor next to your bed.

“I’d never leave you like this.”

His voice is soft as his touch when he places the rag on your head, trailing a finger from your forehead down past your temple and along your cheek.

Your fever has you too delirious to question his actions, continuing to stare up at him like he was the cure to your sickness.

His breath falters as his index finger brushes against your lip, and he knows he needs to look away before he does something stupid.

He settles for poking against the corner of your mouth, pushing it up to resemble the grin you so often wear, and he finally succeeds in removing his eyes when you let out a breathy chuckle at his antics.

“There she is,” he whispers.

“Promise to stay?”

He nods, never having the strength to tell you no.

“Promise.”

It’s like a weight lifted off Sunghoons shoulders when you’re finally back to yourself, no longer “on your deathbed” as you’d so dramatically called it.

“You’re not sick anymore yn, so you have no reason not to come.” Jay says into his speaker, and sunghoon just knows you’re whining on the other side of the phone.

The boys had planned a get together for Jake’s birthday, and while you were plenty fond of the Australian boy, so were plenty of others. Which meant that you would inevitably be stuck in a room with FAR too many people for your liking.

Sunghoon always lets you stay by his side, but you could only take so much of sitting on the couch and pretending not to notice as fifteen different girls try to approach him while you pretended to be interested in literally anything else.

Not to mention, the past week had been so draining trying to get back into a routine and catch up on everything you’d missed while sick.

“No excuses, see you in ten!”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes as Jay hangs up on you, your groan being instantly cut off.

“Do you think she’ll come?” Jake asks, eyeing the man that knows you better than anyone else.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, “yeah. that was her groan of acceptance that Jay just hung up on.”

Jay pumps a fist in the air as Jake laughs at the discovery that his friend knows you perhaps a little too well.

Fifteen minutes later you make your way into the living room, seeing your three friends sitting on the couch surrounded by people you don’t know. You’re not in the headspace to meet anyone new tonight, and a quick scan reveals the three boys were the only of your friends present.

You let out another groan, this one being in disappointment.

Almost as if he sensed it, you see Sunghoon’s head turn to where you’re standing.

The smile that graces his face instantly comforts you, and you return it with only slightly less enthusiasm.

He waves you over, and you steel yourself for discomfort as you approach the crowd.

However the only thing you hear when you get there is the sound of your best friend’s voice.

“I saved you a spot.”

You heave a sigh of relief as he scoots over to give you an opening right next to him, and he quickly flings an arm over your shoulders as you settle in.

You breathe in the smell of his cologne and melt into his shoulder.

“Thank you.”

Anyone else probably wouldn’t be able to hear you, but Sunghoon has always been fine tuned to your voice.

“Of course.”

He lets you sit in silence against him while the boys continue talking and joking.

You’re on the verge of falling asleep right in the middle of the crowd when his breath tickles against your ear.

“Can I take you home?”

You blink up at him curiously, and he explains further.

“You made your appearance, your friend duties are fulfilled. Let’s get out of here.”

You grin and gladly follow as he takes your hand and guides you out of the room after a quick goodbye to your friends.

His hand doesn’t let go of yours even as he drives to your apartment, and you realize just how lucky you are to have him.

“I love you.” You tell him, voice quiet as he flicks on his turn signal.

His face lights up when you say it, and he gives you a quick glance.

“I know.”

You smile, but a part of you feels like maybe he doesn’t.

“I mean it. I love your smile and your laugh and I love that you’re kinder to me than I could ever deserve.”

Your words are getting faster, and you know they’re on the verge of being a confession but you can’t bring yourself to stop.

“You have this way of making me feel cared for and known and i don’t think I tell you enough how much that means to me.”

You don’t realize he’s pulled to the side of the road until you finish talking and realize both of his hands are now clasping your one.

When you meet his eyes you swear he can see straight through you, and you blush furiously while attempting to look away.

Your name on his lips stops you, and you drag your eyes back to his.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

He doesn’t expand, but theres certainty in his voice and adoration in his eyes, and you know him well enough to know what he means.

[seanminfl]

I sat quietly, my cock straining in its cage. My youngest son is the master in our house and he was sodomizing his older brother on the couch again. I was only allowed to clean up the mess with my tongue when he was done.

My youngest son, Jake, was a muscular, handsome man with piercing blue eyes and a devilish smirk. He had an insatiable appetite for sex and took great pleasure in dominating his older brother, John. John, on the other hand, was a tall, lean man with hazel eyes and short brown hair. He had a submissive nature, which only fueled Jake's desire to dominate him.

One day, as I sat in the living room, I overheard Jake and John talking about their latest sexual exploit. John was retelling the story to Jake, who listened intently with a growing smirk on his face.

John: "So, I was lying there on the couch, completely naked and ready for you."

Jake: "Mmm, I remember. Your cock was already hard and begging for attention."

John: "Yes, and you came over to me, looking like the sexual predator you are."

Jake: "Damn right I did. I was so ready to claim your ass again."

John: "You didn't waste any time, either. You pushed me down on the couch and climbed on top of me, your hard cock pressing against my stomach."

Jake: "I couldn't help it. I wanted to feel your body against mine. And fuck, your cock felt so good against me."

John: "Then you started kissing me. Your tongue invaded my mouth, and I could taste the desire on your breath."

Jake: "I was so fucking horny, brother. I needed to be inside you."

John: "I know, and I was more than willing to let you have me. You know how much I love the way you fuck me."

Jake: "Oh, I know. And I make sure to give you exactly what you want."

John: "Yes, you do. You always make sure to prepare my ass before you fuck me. You lick my hole, making it nice and wet for your cock."

Jake: "That's right, brother. I want to make sure your ass is ready for me. I want to hear you moan and beg for my cock."

John: "And you do. You always make me beg for it. And when you finally push your cock inside me, it feels so fucking good."

Jake: "I love the way your ass clenches around my cock, brother. It feels like a tight, warm glove, just for me."

John: "And when you start to fuck me, I can't help but moan and beg for more."

Jake: "That's because I know how to give you exactly what you need, brother. I fuck you hard and deep, just the way you like it."

John: "Yes, you do. And when you're about to cum, you always pull out and shoot your load all over my face and chest."

Jake: "That's right, brother. I love to cover you in my cum. It's a reminder of who owns your ass."

John: "I know, and I love it. I love the way your cum tastes and feels on my skin."

Jake: "And then, after I've cum all over you, I always make you clean up the mess with your tongue."

John: "Yes, and I always do it willingly. I love the taste of your cum, and it's a small price to pay for the pleasure you give me."

As I listened to their conversation, my cock throbbed in its cage, eager to be released. I knew that I would be allowed to clean up the mess once they were done. But for now, I sat quietly, my eyes transfixed on the sight of Jake dominating John on the couch.

Jake: "Alright, brother. I'll let you get up now."

John: "Thank you, Jake. You always know how to fuck me just right."

Jake: "That's because I love you, brother. And I love your tight little ass."

John: "I love you too, Jake. And I love the way you fuck me."

As John pulled his pants back on, Jake turned to me with a wicked grin on his face.

Jake: "Alright, Dad. It's time for you to clean up the mess."

I nodded obediently, knowing what was expected of me. I crawled over to the couch on my hands and knees, my eyes locked on the sight of Jake's cum still glistening on John's chest and face.

Jake: "Now, clean up every last drop, Dad. And make sure you lick it all up."

I leaned forward, my tongue extending to gather up the first bit of Jake's cum. I closed my eyes, savoring the taste of my son's seed on my tongue. As I continued to lick up his cum, I felt a sense of pride and submission, knowing that this was my role in the family.

Jake: "That's it, Dad. Make sure you get it all."

John: "Yeah, Dad. Make sure you clean up every last drop."

I continued to lick up Jake's cum, my tongue working diligently to gather up every last bit. As I finished, I looked up at Jake and John, my eyes filled with a mixture of adoration and submission.

Jake: "Good job, Dad. Now go back to your seat and wait for us to call on you again."

I nodded obediently, my place in the family hierarchy firmly established. I returned to my seat, my cock still straining in its cage, eager for the next time I would be allowed to clean up the mess.

For more follow @xxxstudssss

[littleprinces]

Happy New Year!

Enami Asa x Male Reader

Sex Slavery, Pregnant Asa, Master Slave

Enjoy my first fic in 2025 and Happy new year

Asa stood in the doorway, her naked body bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. Her large, round belly was a stark contrast to her otherwise slender frame. She had always been petite, but now, with her pregnancy, she looked even more delicate. Her eyes, a deep brown, were filled with a mix of fear and anticipation as she looked at me.

"Happy New Year, Master," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Indeed, it is," I replied, my eyes roaming over her body. "Come here, Asa. Let me give you your New Year's gift."

She hesitated for a moment before walking towards me, her hips swaying gently with each step. I could see the faint blush spread across her cheeks as she approached.

"You look nervous, Asa," I said, my voice low and husky. "Should I be worried?"

She shook her head, her long, dark hair cascading down her back. "No, Master. I'm just... I'm just excited."

I smiled at her, a slow, predatory smile. "Good. You should be. Now, come here and let me see what I've been given."

As I looked at her, I could see the goosebumps rise on her skin. She was a picture of innocence, with her wide eyes and soft curves, but I knew better. I knew the dark desires that lurked beneath her innocent exterior.

I reached out and ran my fingers through her hair, gripping it tightly at the nape of her neck. I pulled her closer, my lips crashing down onto hers in a harsh, demanding kiss. She gasped, her lips parting slightly, and I took advantage, my tongue invading her mouth, exploring every inch of her.

"Mmm," I murmured, breaking the kiss. "You taste like sin, Asa. Like forbidden fruit."

I trailed my lips down her neck, nibbling and sucking on her delicate skin. She moaned softly, her head falling back to give me better access. I could feel her heart racing, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

I released her hair and let my hands roam over her body, cupping her breasts, pinching her nipples until they were hard and erect. She cried out, her back arching, pressing her body against mine.

"Please, Master," she begged. "Please, I need more."

I chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Patience, Asa. We have all night."

I pushed her gently onto the bed, her body sprawled out before me. I could see the wetness between her legs, glistening in the fading light. I knew she was ready, but I wanted to make her beg for it.

I kneeled between her legs, my hands running up her inner thighs. She squirmed, her hips bucking slightly as I got closer to her pussy. I could see the anticipation in her eyes, the desperate need for release.

"Please, Master," she said again, her voice a hoarse whisper. "Please, I need you inside me."

I smiled, my fingers finally brushing against her wetness. I slid one finger inside her, slowly, teasingly. She moaned, her body arching up to meet my touch.

"You're so tight, Asa," I murmured, my fingers moving in and out of her. "But I know you can take more."

I added another finger, stretching her, preparing her for what was to come. She whimpered, her fingers gripping the sheets tightly. I could see the pleasure and the pain in her eyes, the duality of her emotions.

"Yes, Master," she gasped. "Yes, I can take more."

I removed my fingers, bringing them to my mouth and sucking on them. I could taste her, sweet and salty, and it only served to heighten my desire.

"Good," I said, my voice hoarse with need. "Because I'm going to fuck you, Asa. I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight."

I positioned myself at her entrance, my cock hard and ready. I looked down at her, at the way her body was open and inviting, and I couldn't wait any longer. I thrust into her, hard and deep, filling her completely.

She cried out, her body tensing at the initial intrusion. I held still for a moment, letting her adjust, before I started to move. I moved slowly at first, letting her get used to the sensation of me inside her. But it wasn't long before I was thrusting into her hard and fast, my body slapping against hers.

"You're mine, Asa," I growled. "Every inch of you is mine."

She nodded, her eyes closed, her body lost in the sensation of me inside her. I could feel her muscles clenching around me, could feel the pleasure building inside her.

"Cum for me, Asa," I said, my voice harsh. "Cum all over my cock."

She moaned, her body convulsing as the orgasm washed over her. I could feel her pussy clamping down on me, milking me for all I was worth. I thrust into her a few more times, my own orgasm building, before I pulled out, my cock spraying cum all over her belly and breasts.

"Happy New Year, Asa," I said, my breath coming in harsh gasps. "I hope you enjoyed your gift."

[wandassweetheart]

WET WRATH!

pairing - bf!trevor x fem!reader

warning! - 18+ mdni, smut, shower sex, unprotected sex (avoid the dread, cover your head)

a/n - some fluff at the end where reader says “i love you” for the first time 🥹. also guys, this was my first time writing smut?! there’s defo more to come. anyways, enjoy!

“shit…” trevor drawls out as the water creates a wet, glistening look for your tits. his tits. he’d always prided himself when it came to your body, he worshipped it like it needed to be, because quite frankly in his eyes you were a goddess. and goddesses are worshipped aren’t they?

so now, as you both stood beneath the running shower head, his hands coursed around your waist and he coiled down so that his lips could reach the slip of your neck. his hard cock pushed against your back, the closer he pulled you towards him. steam clouded your vision as you rested your head back on trevor’s shoulder to give him more space to go further down your body. his one hand remained steady on your waist whilst the other snaked its way up to grope your tit as he still remained locked onto your neck. your hands find its way to his buzzed hair as you softly run them up and down, causing a groan from trevor.

the hand that was initially on your waist slowly slid its way down to your dripping, wet pussy. trevor lets out a low murmur, “see how much this body reacts to my fingers? haven’t even touched you with my cock yet, baby,” he mused. his fingers continued to slide down in between your folds, a quiet whimper escaped your parted lips, encouraging him to rub his fingers along your clit. his other hand progressively got rougher against your tits with every rub of your clit.

“inside, trevor… please?” you tried to form a coherent sentence, mind blank from the upcoming orgasm you were about to receive. “why don’t i give you my cock instead, baby? how’s that, huh? only for my girl ‘kay?” his fingers suddenly stop, making you whine from the sudden seclusion. instead, he picks you up and presses your back against the cold shower wall, you automatically wrap your legs around his lower abdomen and his hands reach your ass to steady the both of you. without another second wasted, he pushes his cock deep into you making you shriek with pleasure and him groan against your skin.

“your pretty pussy ‘s always so tight for me.” trevor lets out a shaky breath before thrusting his hips back and forth into you. “fuck, trevor!” you cry out and his thrust become more fast paced. both your breaths were hot and heavy disguised by the vapour the hot water let out. “y’like that, huh baby?” trevor let out in between deep kisses. “yes,” is all you could manage to whisper as your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the intense pleasure. trevor’s stamina wasn’t giving in but soon enough it was going to let out. his hands now started to knead your ass, you could feel the bruises starting to form but all you could think about was how good he was making you feel. you’d never had anyone like trevor.

“shit, trevor. i’m gonna cum…” you moan out, your head hits his shoulder as you prepare for the oncoming wave of pleasure. “me too baby, hold on f’ me, okay?” trevor quickens his pace even more which you didn’t even know was possible. “c’mon baby, y’ ready? cum for me.” trevor gives you his permission and with that your body spasms beneath his, your legs start shaking from the immense satisfaction. “shit, shit, shit!” trevor yells out. his thrusts become sloppy and slow as he gives one final push and you can feel the warm fluid heat up inside you.

trevor slowly sets you down, yet still holds onto your fragile, shaken body and lets out a soft chuckle after turning off the shower. “y’ okay, baby?” he asks, as you both step out and he wraps a fluffy towel around you. “i’m okay,” you reply with a tired mumble. he starts to dry you off carefully, setting you down on the counter. “love you, trevor.” you say quietly, not having really said those words to anyone. trevor is taken slightly aback but then smiles down at you.

“love you too, baby.”

[earthtooz]

x : DREAMS OF US :*+ﾟ

in which: you bring a little faith in promises back to itoshi rin.

warnings: 600+ wc, fluff, talks of moving in together, gn!reader who is in uni, rin is a pro (?) soccer player.

a/n: PHEWWW when was my last itoshi rin fic? been a while :> i have another rin (but it might turn into a reo fic tbh) fic and a sae fic in the works <3 this is my new year gift to you all. returning to our blue lock era for 2025!

Itoshi Rin doesn’t believe in shared goals, shared ambitions, shared dreams. 

He did, at some point, and it came crashing down on him like a snowstorm. He still remembers the snow, the frost permeating his bones as his older brother left him behind in a cold field, a once-treasured dream now in pieces. 

Since then, he hasn’t really wanted to accomplish anything with anyone else.

“It’s snowing.”

Your voice brings him out of his thoughts. Rin looks up from the cup of coffee he was stirring, thoroughly dissolving the spoon of sugar he just added. His teal eyes find you sitting at his kitchen bench, laptop and papers forgotten so you can admire the tiny snowflakes beginning to fall with a fascinated gleam in your eyes.

It warms him. You ignite a part of him he thought was snuffed out years ago.

“It is,” he says, rounding around the kitchen counter to give you your mug of coffee, made exactly to your tastes. 

“Thank you,” you smile up at him. He leans down to kiss your temple, pressing his lips firmly against your skin so you can’t forget the depths of his adoration. 

The professional soccer player only then notices what you were looking at on your laptop.

“Two bedroom apartments in Tokyo?” Rin reads out loud, even squinting at your screen to make sure that his eyes weren’t deceiving him. “Are you moving out?”

You’re not meeting his eyes, shrinking into the comfortable fabric of Rin’s hoodie and he suddenly gets the impression that he saw something he wasn’t supposed to. “Something like that,” you murmur into the mug.

“Two bedrooms? Are you going to move in with someone?” 

There’s a tight knot in Rin’s chest. Why couldn’t you just move in with him? 

“I, uh, was supposed to ask you this later but… would you like to move in with me?”

His eyes widen, mouth falling slightly agape as he stares down at you, and now you get the feeling that you’ve asked something you weren’t supposed to. Maybe almost two years of dating wasn’t enough time for the question to be asked, and now you just feel like an idiot-

Rin shakes his head, the smallest smile tugging at his lips. “Dumbass, you basically live here.”

You straighten your spine, a telltale sign that you’re about to rebut whatever he’s just said.

“Whatever! You were talking about finding a new apartment closer to central Tokyo, I thought this was the perfect opportunity for us,” you defend. “It is a bit expensive, though.”

“I earn enough. We can find a place close to the train station, you can get to work and university easier,” he suggests, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you against his torso. “Why are you looking at two bedrooms?”

“We can have a dedicated study. I can’t sleep sometimes when you’re watching your recorded matches in bed, y’know.”

Rin snorts. “Right. Can’t sleep so you drool on me.”

You punch his shoulder, and he doesn’t even react, eyes trained on your laptop screen as he scrolls through potential housing options. From where your face is pressed against his sternum, you murmur, “I like your current apartment, though, I like the wide windows, I can see the snow.”

“You can enjoy it until my lease is done. We can hunt for an apartment with wide windows until then so you don’t miss the snowfall.”

“‘Kay,” you murmur contentedly. “This can be our shared dream, then.”

And it’s funny, because Rin hasn’t heard that term in a long time. Every dream of his, he’s done alone. He hasn’t ‘shared’ a dream with anyone since Sae, and that came crumbling down in the blink of an eye. If he can’t trust his older brother to keep his word, then who can he trust?

However, you’re snug in his arms, in his hoodie, in his apartment, and a silent promise hangs in the air, and he realises now that with every dream of his, he has always imagined you to be a part of it.

© EARTHTOOZ 2025, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[aahronseesthings]

This was sitting in my likes and i finally have something to say,

I agree as a person who is undiagnosed but is a good 96% sure they have autism and ADHD in some form. In most media Autism is like "oh you got some weird quirks there bud how about you go rant about trains or something" and the really hard parts about the condition like the "I'm lying in bed unable to sleep at 12:20 because there are needles in my skin and in an attempt to fix this I have removed all my clothes and covers and am now lying naked on a cold bed with no covers in a cold room in the dead of winter with no furnace on because the skin fire is too hot and I still feel like taking a short razor and shaving my skin off." parts are overlooked because they are too difficult to deal with. Like if my manic night thrashing episodes were ever seen by public eyes, I'd be locked in an institution.

It truly sickens me to see people trying to yassify and bedazzle difficult conditions like this because as long as the public doesn't see it, it doesn't exist.

I feel like I'm being erased from the pages of a book. Is it too much to ask that people don't treat me like a child but also don't treat me as if I'm a live nuclear missile? Like bro I have skin and bones just like you and when we die and people 400000 years from now will be digging up my bones to steal the bone marrow for sick children, I will look like the same fucking skeleton as you. I just ask that before then you treat me as if I'm a human being. Not a burden or a sickly animal...... A person. With hopes and dreams and asperations just like you.

I truly believe any neurodivergent person can be framed as manipulative if their doctor dislikes them. What is masking if not manipulation if you view it uncharitably enough?

[jjenthusee]

Enthusiasm

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Sometimes the most intimidating can be the most tender.

A/N: HAPPYYY NEW YEAR i give u soft Jason 😌 i’ve been on and off (so sorry about that) but im excited to see what stories will be posted to this account this upcoming year :D so much has happened to end December, but i powered through and i wanted to finish something that was sitting in my drafts. so please ENJOY :) comment if you’re comfortable, reblog if you like the story, and have some flowers 💐

Tags: Fluff, hurt/comfort, i just wanna kiss his beautiful face fr, reader and jason are in competition of who can out fluff the other

Word Count: 2.5k

previous work linked here

The smell was strong.

Gunpowder and soaked clothes. Jason felt like a wet dog coming home with his tail between his legs. Holding onto the door frames, trying to not bump into the walls.

He had hoped the rain would have washed away most of the blood and burnt smell that radiated from his skin, but no matter how much he tried to rub it off, it was still there. Lingering after his every step, after every breath he took.

Each step into your apartment felt like he was contaminating more of the air, that he was diminishing the warmth you exuded so effortlessly.

His fingertips burned as he tried to grab a dry shirt and some sweats to change into, but his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

His mind raced and raced as he couldn’t focus enough to grab a single hanger in the closet. He already felt like he was standing underneath a beacon of light from the single bulb illuminating the entire closet and he couldn’t afford to wake you up now, you might smell him and you would find him disgusting until he would beg and beg that he could strip all the smell away.

Jason felt dizzy at the thought of you leaving. He had imagined many scenarios, all kinds of ways you would be gone. Tortured, kidnapped, or you simply walking out the door as he watched because you didn’t want to love him anymore.

It sickened him. A kind of bile that stuck to his throat when he tortured himself with the thought of you leaving him. He rubbed his face, feeling his calloused hands scratch against his skin as he tried to rub more of the smell away.

He could imagine the sound of your voice, screaming his name in fear or even quietly fading as you faded from his arms.

Sometimes the hallucinations felt so real, like you actually left until he found you at home. Living your life, perfectly fine.

“—on. Jason.”

He instinctively grabbed the knife from his utility belt, so quickly and efficiently that it felt like breathing for Jason.

He was still dizzy, but parts of your face were slowly focusing through his lashes, readjusting until your entire face was clear in his vision. He saw your wide eyes, opened because of the suddenness of him aiming a knife to your neck, but what made him feel even more sick to his stomach was the worried look on your face despite the survival instinct overpowering his brain.

It screamed how much you cared about him. The same man that pointed a blade at you.

He couldn’t breathe.

“Jason, it’s me. I’m right here.” You stood still. Watching the intense adrenaline rush from Jason. It had been a while since you’ve seen him escalate this badly.

“No, no. I‘m—you’re not real.” He pleaded, talking more to himself than at you.

“You’re home. You’re back home.” You tried to reach out with your words, giving him something to metaphorically grab onto.

“Please go away.”

Your heart pinched at his broken words.

“Everything is okay. I’m okay. I am right here.” You repeated.

As adamant as Jason was about stopping his hallucination, he couldn’t raise his voice. He was quietly whispering his pleas as you stood at arms length, confusing his reality and mental images. You didn’t waver to call out to him because he felt more wary of you than you did of him.

The blade he held to you was something he hadn’t done before and as frightened as you were in that moment, you stayed calm. Not for yourself, but from how much he shook and his disheveled appearance, Jason was just scared.

You continued to speak to him, giving him tender reassurances, explaining and truthfully telling him how safe he was and how he could relax from the anxiety plaguing him.

Jason’s eyes were relaxing as he listened to your voice, his muscles were loosening his grip from the blade the more in tune he felt with reality, and he suddenly felt all the exhaustion weigh on him. His knife felt so heavy. Every second he was growing more tired as he realized he was safe enough to finally let it go, so he threw it to the side.

The blade bounced to the floor, reflecting and shining the light from the closet back into the dark bedroom.

You took a deep breath watching the blade leave Jason’s hand, then you looked back to him, seeing his soaked hair stick to his face. His armor caked with dirt and blood blending into the fabric.

As much as you wanted to call Alfred, Jason was in no condition to see another person right now.

As you analyzed him, you saw, physically, how much the night had roughed him up. Jason’s hands were limp at his side, his head hung to your feet as you stepped closer to him, testing how close he was willing to let you get.

“Jay? You’re still in your armor, we need to get you out of your soaked clothes.” You gently spoke.

He said nothing to you, focusing on pacing his breaths in a way that didn’t cause him more anxiety. He kept his eyes closed.

“Do you need my help? I can help, but if you want to do it yourself—“

He grabbed one of your fingers, his frozen hand stinging your warm one that absorbed the heat from your blankets not too long ago. His large hand held onto your singular finger, feeling your smooth skin, trying to sink into the soothing feeling of physical touch.

You patiently waited, letting him go at his own pace to grasp that he was safe enough to ask for this much from you.

“I’m glad you made it home.” You spoke. Feeling Jason’s skin trace your knuckles and veins in your hand like he was memorizing and analyzing the living being he cared so much for.

As he continued his small rubs, he eased his touch to a feather light hover over your arm. Feeling up to press his thumb underneath the fabric of your shirt sleeve, mentally talking to himself about the feel of the fabric and its color.

You let him ground himself, taking note of how still you kept your body. All control was in Jason’s hands like a puppeteer over your entire self. He wanted to scream out to himself that he was selfishly touching you, but he was walking a very thin line of losing his mind any second and the feel of you was keeping him focused on something other than his racing head.

He was so tired that he grasp his hand onto your shoulder to gently pull you toward him, resting his head into your hair, smelling how familiar you were.

He thought you smelt so much better than the gunpowder and burning flesh from his body.

He rested his hand behind your back, slowly feeling up to cusp behind your neck, letting his fingers settle onto your pulse. Counting the thumps and feeling the repeated rhythm he memorized numerous times to fall asleep to.

Jason brought you in closer, matching his breaths to yours because if he felt like passing out, he reasoned to himself that it should be completely because he wanted to be one with you.

You settled your forehead onto his neck, taking a deep breath into his skin.

Jason flinched, feeling his skin tingle to your warm breath exhaling to his hair. He hummed before he was about to pull away from you, remembering his stench.

“I’m sorry, I…stink.” Jason apologized, fighting against himself to release you, but also grip you harder.

You pulled him back to you by his neck and arm, leaning his damp hair onto your head.

“You don’t need to apologize. Besides, I love your smell. I think I stink ‘cause I haven’t showered ever since I got back from work.” You lazily smiled up at Jason, appreciating that he was talking to you.

“You don’t smell.” He emphasized, whispering his sincerity into the small space between your bodies.

“I was sweating a lot today, so we can be stinky together if that’s what you’re worried about.” You comforted him, reaching up to cusp his cheeks. Soothing the redness on his face from his harsh rubs. “We can wash up together if you want to. It’s also okay if you want to do it by yourself. I’m always open to what you tell me, no matter what I’ll be right here until you let me know.”

Jason felt the ease in his shoulders, the voice in his head calming. It wasn’t completely silent, but it was a little quieter when you were speaking so gently to him.

“Can we wash up together?” He asked into your palm, rubbing his nose into your warm hand.

“Of course we can. I can get the water ready while you get out of your gear.”

“Hm.” Jason agreed into your touch.

“I won’t make the water too hot. I also got a new shampoo yesterday and I haven’t used it yet, so we can smell like eucalyptus together.” You could feel Jason’s frozen nose on your hands. “Hon, you’re freezing.”

Your worries were unanswered, leaving you to only furrow your brow at the man in front of you. Jason could only look up from your hands, clearly having nothing to say, but patiently waiting for you to give in to his tender gaze.

He knew you would give in, you always did and he wanted to use it to his advantage to not speak about his night.

He removed his gloves and you heard the slightly damp fabric being pulled from his fingers. With free hands, Jason reached out to rub off the furrowed look on your face, in attempt to cover his tired appearance.

“You’re lucky I’m going to be nice about this. I was about one call away to summoning Alfred or I would’ve drove your motorcycle all the way there if I had to.”

Jason chuckled as he kept kneading the line between your eyebrows. Listening to your stubborn worries that felt like music to his ears as much as he didn’t want to admit it.

“Threatening me now?” Jason asked. Amused, but willing to listen to your voice continuously. The way his voice teased you made your heart tingle, enough to distract you for a moment to look at the way his hair fell onto his face. His features were carved by wavy hair, elegantly placed hair strands that made you waver between frustrated and enamored, but unable to stop your heartfelt lecture.

“Maybe you can distract me, but Alfred is too experienced to even consider hesitating with you.” You tried to go move your eyebrows in defiance against Jason’s thumb, not backing down just yet. “I was about to haul you on my shoulders and dump you onto the back of your motorcycle. I didn’t go through all those lessons with you to not use it against you.“

“I knew it, you were always too excited to take it out for a drive. Can’t believe my own student was actually plotting against me all along.” Jason held onto your face, shaking his head as he traced your jaw with his fingers.

“It’s called “enthusiasm,” Jason.” You started to feel for the zippers of his jacket, moving your fingers against the leather as you slowly took it off his shoulders, carefully watching his body language to ensure you weren’t making him uncomfortable.

“Enthusiasm.” Jason repeated. In the same tone you always swooned at, hearing the familiar low roughness in his voice that was only reserved for you. A dangerous combo as he touched your face so affectionately, you could feel your face heat in the dim closet light. “I know all about enthusiasm.”

He leaned in to slightly peck your bottom lip, feeling his own lips barely touch yours. He felt how dry his lips were, but yours were soft enough to drown out his other worries and insecurities. Enough to feel the intimacy, but not enough to solidify something more.

You smiled, clearly won over by Jason’s charm. In one swoop you pulled the jacket off Jason, leaving him in his usual patrol skintight top with his emblem reflecting what little light was in the room.

You couldn’t imagine the fear that red bat symbol brought to the bad people lingering at night, realizing the bad shit they brought on themselves because that emblem was the last thing they would remember.

But you always liked what was beneath it, what it tried to protect. The part of Jason that he relentlessly tried to hide and you had the patience to slowly unveil every bit of it.

“Save that enthusiasm because we might not be able to wash up if you kiss me one more time.” You rubbed your hands into the back of his neck, feeling the tense muscles and wanting to help him relax for a bit with some warm water and rubbing some shampoo into his hair to hopefully allow him to sleep a little tonight. “Clean your gear in the morning, I wanna warm up with a shower and you can help me dry my hair.”

“Hm.” Jason agreed as he kept rubbing your lips with his thumb. You felt accomplished as you felt his hands slowly warming from your physical touch.

“I’ll get us some fresh towels. Grab the new shampoo after you remove your gear.” You released yourself from Jason and made your way to the bathroom. “It should be in the bag by the bed. I forgot to take it out.”

With some soreness, Jason removed his utility belt and picked up the thrown knife to safely secure it back in its place. He felt the weight in his eyelids as he made his way to the bathroom, hearing the water turn on.

When he pushed the door open silently, he watched the way you moved. Adjusting the heat of the water, placing freshly dried towels on the counter, and the way you were so perfectly domestic.

Jason didn’t want to disturb you, soothing himself to the sight of you after he exhausted himself from the repeated torture his mind put himself through.

When you looked back, the look you gave him almost made him melt to the tile floor. That it was unreal he was allowed this.

You pulled him into the bathroom, much like the other ways you introduced him to various simplicities he started to enjoy in his life.

He didn’t want to admit it to you, in case you would be offended, but he cherished how mundane you were. That he could feel as close to ordinary next to you. That the scars that littered him weren’t going to drive you away.

Piece by piece, clothing were removed from the two of you. It was comfortable to bare yourself, to share this intimate experience of bathing together. Washing and holding each other under warm water. Massaging and lathering soap.

The steam was filling the bathroom, slight humidity relaxing your skin and your shared scent radiating off each other.

The night was turning into dawn, but you dried each others hair. You gently laid into the bed to slowly rub at Jason’s head, easing him and yourself into another slumber.

[y3sterdaysproblem]

in my head - m.s.

part two of avery’s playlist series

pairing: reader x matt sturniolo

cw: alcohol, smut (unprotected sex, f!receiving oral, fingering), explicit language

wc: 6k

in my head, i see you all over me

in my head, you fulfill my fantasy

It was like a sixth sense, really, the way you could feel when anybody was staring at you when you weren’t looking. It was something you’d always had a feeling for since you were young, like any time a pair of eyes landed on you, you could feel it burning into your skin.

It was also something you had learned to ignore when you were around your friends, always feeling a constant stare when your head was turned, blue eyes unable to tear themselves away from your frame. You were used to it at this point, the way he looked over at you any chance he got. You were also used to him refusing to admit that he was looking at you, no matter how many times you caught him staring, he’d always deny it, say he was just spaced out or looking past you. You never believed him.

Today was no different, even in the crowded house with music blaring and your mind fuzzy from the alcohol you’d consumed, you could still feel Matt staring at you from where he was leaned against the wall, a fruity seltzer held in his hand as he peered your way. The two of you have been friends for years, but lately it felt like you’ve drifted apart due to how weird he’s gotten around you, and now when you came over, you mostly just talked to his brothers, Nick and Chris, since Matt had always excused himself after you caught him staring.

Matt was always a little bit odd, but he’d gotten more so over the last few months, and you’d gotten sick of trying to reel him back in, finally just deciding to let him pull away from the friendship if that’s what he really wanted.

Alcohol had always made you a little bit bolder, though, and today was no exception, so when you caught Matt’s eye across the room and he actually held your gaze, you couldn’t help yourself from marching over until you were right in front of him, your eyes determined as you approached him. He kept his eyes locked on you, an almost amused smirk playing on his lips at your attempt to be serious.

“Matt,” you start sternly, crossing your arms once you’re in front of him. He’s thoroughly enjoying the way you try to act bigger than you are, though he can tell by the glazed over look in your eyes that it wasn’t raw confidence that had you running up on him, but more of a liquid courage influence. He didn’t mind, in fact, he thought it was amusing. He stays silent, only raising his eyebrows as he peers at you over his can, waiting for you to continue. “We need to talk.”

Matt finishes his drink and sets it down on a nearby table before crossing his arms to match your stance, chest puffing out as his eyes narrowed. “About what?” He inquires, head tilting like a dog.

You weren’t deterred by his attempts to be dominating, though. “About your fucking staring problem.”

He raises an eyebrow like he’s at a complete loss. “What staring problem?”

“Are you kidding?” You laugh, dropping your arms to your sides in disbelief. “You think I don’t see you staring at me all the time? I can feel your eyes burning a hole in the back of my head!”

Matt is fully smirking at you now, his expression teasing. “I never stare at you. I look at you sometimes, like now when you’re talking, but I’m never staring at you.”

The distinct presence of alcohol makes your eyes feel heavy and your brain moves slower, only able to process his words a few seconds after he said them, but you refused to be gaslit into thinking that you were wrong, that you didn’t see what you know you saw.

“Don’t lie to me,” you say loudly, reaching up to point a finger in his face. “You can’t take advantage of me just because I’m drunk.”

The next words that he said are what really throw you off guard, to the point where you almost blamed the alcohol for it, and if you were even one drink further into your night you would’ve, but your comprehension levels were still sharp enough to catch the weight of his words as he leans in close to your ear.

“If I wanted to take advantage of you while you were drunk, lying isn’t the way I’d do it.”

It felt like the ground beneath you had shifted, like an unspoken boundary had been crossed and you had no idea how to react to it. Except your mouth moved faster than your brain, and you spoke before you could even think to stop yourself.

“What?!” You shriek, narrowing your eyes at the boy in front of you. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?!”

Matt rolls his eyes at your volume before he swiftly forces your body in the other direction with his hands and swings an arm over your shoulder. “It means we need to get some water in you.”

You’re offended at his suggestion, scoffing loudly as he led you into the kitchen, keeping a strong grip on you. “I am not that drunk, Matt. Could pass a sobriety test with ease.”

“You’re drunk enough to get confrontational, that’s how I know you need to slow down,” Matt retorts, grabbing an unopened water bottle from the counter and handing it to you.

You want to refuse, to shake your head and push his hand away, but when you turn your head to look up at him, the room spins a little bit, and you know it’s probably for the better that you have some water. Once you do grab it from his hands, you drank almost half of the bottle in one go before handing it back to Matt, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “There, happy now?” You sass.

Matt sets the bottle down on the counter, his other arm still swung over your shoulders. “Sure, now go dance with Nick or something,” he comments, nodding his head in his brother’s direction.

Your confrontational behavior hasn’t dissipated, though, in fact it only feels spurred on by the way Matt is staring down at you, like it’s funny the way you tried to talk to him, like he thinks your attempts at calling him out are adorable. It’s not adorable, you’re serious, and the fact that he doesn’t think you are has you heating up all over again.

In a quick motion, you grab his hand from your shoulder and start walking away, your grip on him tight as you drag him through the crowds of people and into his room. With all the strength you can muster, you pull him in through the doorway and push him in front of you, slamming the door after you’re both in the room.

“I am done dealing with you staring at me all the time and acting like you’re not!” You snap loudly at him, arms crossing over your chest once again. “I may be drunk and confrontational, but you’re drunk, too, so let’s just get this conversation over with so we can go back to being like we were before.”

Matt rolls his eyes at you, huffing like a child. “I’m not as drunk as you,” is all he says.

“Oh, please, like you weren’t just leaning up against the wall out there, or using your arm around me to keep your balance.” You point a finger at him accusatorially. “You’re leaning on your desk right now!”

“Yeah, because my ankle hurts,” Matt shrugged it off, but the way his eyes closed as he spoke made it all the more obvious what the truth was.

By the time his eyes reopen, you’ve marched over to him, your bodies only a couple feet apart now. “Enough. Stop fucking staring all the time or tell me why you do it.” You demand.

He’s getting frustrated again, and you can see it in the way he sucks in a deep breath, like he’s trying to stop himself from getting angry, or maybe he’s trying to stop himself from telling you the truth, trying to fight against the alcohol swimming through his bloodstream. He’s close to cracking, and all you need to do is push a little harder.

“Did I do something to make you mad? You barely talk to me anymore, and every time you do it’s like someone’s twisting your arm behind your back to do it.” Your voice is a bit quieter now, back to a normal speaking volume with a hint of sadness seeping in. “I used to be the closest to you and now it’s a chore to even get you to talk to me.”

Matt groans and leans his head back on his shoulders for a moment before picking it back up and meeting your gaze again. “You didn’t make me mad,” he replies.

“Then what?!” You push, hands flopping to your sides in annoyance. “Why are you so weird now?! You never talk to me, you’re always fucking looking at me and pretending you’re not, you’re always trying to avoid being in the same room as me alone and I am so fucking sick of-“

“What do you want me to say?!” Matt interrupts loudly, pushing himself off the desk and one step closer to you. Your eyes widen in shock as the distance starts to close between you, not expecting him to be so loud. Though the next words out of his mouth had your mind reeling and wondering if maybe you both were a little too intoxicated to be having this conversation. But maybe it was perfect.

“Do you want me to say that every fucking time I look at you, all I can think about is how much better you’d look underneath me? On top of me?” He starts lowly, taking another step closer. “Do you want me to say that I get carried away looking at you because I’m fantasizing about what I want to do to you? That I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want to make you feel good and hear your pretty voice moaning my name?”

Your heart feels like it’s stuck in your throat as you listen to him, pounding away and making your hands shaky, adrenaline running through you at his admission. It was the last thing you expected him to say, a confession of desire, the words ripping all of the air from your lungs.

You’re brought back when the backs of your knees hit his bed, causing you to fall backwards on it, hands catching you and resting behind you. The switch in angle has you staring upwards at Matt, the man that was your best friend, lashes fluttering as he gazed down at you, eyes darkening at the sight of you.

“Matt��” you whisper, shaking your head, unsure of what to say.

“You feel fucking stupid pushing so hard now, don’t you?” Matt sneers, leaning over so he’s hovering above you, faces inches apart. “Should’ve just left it the fuck alone.”

You swallow thickly, trying to ignore your nerves and the way the hair on your arms was standing straight up, goosebumps forming from how close he was to you.

“I don’t feel stupid,” you say quietly, pausing for a moment as you stare into his eyes, taking in his expression. His jaw is clenched tight, like he’s angry, but you know it’s his way of trying to hide the way he really feels; scared of how you feel. His eyes are searching yours for any sign of feeling the same, like he’s desperate for any sense of reciprocation. His chest is heaving as he leans over you, trying to breathe through the way his heart was racing, willing it to slow down in vain. You take a deep breath yourself, readying yourself for the shift.

“Just wish you told me sooner.”

Your hand comes up to grab onto his shirt to pull him in, closing the distance between you both, lips crashing together. He loses his balance when you pull him down, hands stopping himself on either side of you when he pushes you down flat on the bed, kissing you back like he’s waited his whole life for this moment.

His lips are molded to yours perfectly, only parting to let his tongue slip into your mouth and meet your own, tasting the drink he finished right as you walked up to him. His left arm shifted so he was resting on his elbow next to your head, right hand coming up to cup the back of your head, fingers splayed out in your hair as he used his grip to keep you close to him.

Even though you initiated the kiss, you’re still taken aback at how desperate his movements are, taking a moment to collect yourself and kiss him back just as enthusiastically, right hand keeping its grip in his shirt while your other one comes up to mirror his, tangling in his hair.

“Matt,” you gasp in between kisses, whining softly when his lips trail over your cheek and down your neck, leaving soft but hungry kisses across your skin.

“Wanted you for so long,” he groans, teeth nipping softly before he continues his descent, pushing your shirt up until it’s bunched under your arms, moving his lips between the valley of your breasts. “You look so fucking good tonight, was like torture watching you walk around like I didn’t want to rip your clothes off.”

The giggle you let out is breathless, a mix of laughter and a whine, head tilted down as you watch him as he kisses down your stomach, hands moving to slide down your waist, gripping your hips when he reaches them. “You can take my clothes off if you want to,” you say nervously. His attention is immediately drawn back to your face, movements pausing at your words. “Yeah?” He rasps, voice low and quiet.

You nod, pushing yourself up on your elbows to watch him as he slides down your body and onto his knees between your legs, hands rubbing over your thighs. Your bottom half was adorned in a black mini skirt that already started riding up from the way he settled between your legs, your thong peeking out from underneath it, clinging to your skin from the way you were already getting soaked.

“This skirt looks so fucking good on you,” Matt praises, slipping off the end of the bed until he was on his knees, pulling you closer towards the edge until his face was only a few inches above your core. “Wondering why I’m looking at you when this shit barely covers your ass.”

“I wore it for you,” you admit shyly, watching as his hands slid up and down your skin, fingers gripping into your flesh every few seconds, like he couldn’t believe he was finally in this position, lips dragging up the skin of your inner thighs slowly.

“Oh, yeah?” He mumbles, almost absentmindedly.

“Mhm,” you reply, watching as his face gets closer and closer to where you want him. “Was hoping maybe if I dressed hot enough you’d finally crack, get the balls to shoot your shot.”

Matt drags his nose up your inner thighs, kissing occasionally until his face is right pressed into your panties, the thin fabric being the only barrier separating your bodies from what you both craved so badly. His tongue slips past his lips to flatten on your folds through your underwear, a small groan leaving his lips. “Was gonna shoot my shot anyway, just thought I’d have time for one more drink before you got all bitchy on me.”

A gasp leaves your lips at the feeling of his tongue on you, wanting nothing more than to rip the flimsy thong off and fling it across the room. “Calling me a bitch with your head between my legs is a little ridiculous, Matt,” you tease breathlessly, keeping your eyes locked on him. His hands move to push your skirt upwards before his fingers tuck themselves into the waistband of your panties, eyes shooting up to meet yours. “Sorry, next time I call you a bitch I’ll make sure I’m not about to eat you out.”

You scoff at his sarcastic response and roll your eyes, expecting nothing less than him making some snarky comment. His nose dips down and buries itself in the fabric again, his eyes fluttering shut as he sucked in a deep breath, moaning on the exhale. “Holy fuck.” He groans out before he tucks his fingers into the front of your underwear and ripped them apart, exposing your dripping pussy to him, drooling in anticipation.

“Are you…” you stare down at him incredulously, eyes wide. “Are you smelling me?”

Matt looks back up at you with an exasperated expression, raising an eyebrow. “Yes?” He replies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you have any idea how good pussy smells? How good it tastes? God, I could get off on that alone.”

You shake your head in disbelief at him, to which he releases a small laugh, shooting you a wink before dipping his head back down and pressing his lips between your folds, planting a small kiss on your clit as his hands push your thighs apart, spreading you wide open to be used by him. “Taste so fucking good,” he mumbles, more to himself than anything. His hands wrap around your thighs and his fingers dig into the skin on the inside of your legs, kneading them softly as his tongue starts to work between your folds, quiet moans leaving him as the taste of you flooded his senses.

The sounds you made weren’t as quiet, the volume of your whines starting to fill the room, grateful for the music blaring through the rest of the house to drown you out. Your head fell back on your shoulders as your eyes fluttered shut, focusing on his tongue on you and the way his hands never stopped moving, whether it was his thumbs stroking over your skin or his palms rubbing up and down.

“Fuck, Matt…” you whimper, dropping your elbows out from underneath you so your back was flat on the bed, body already reacting to the way his mouth was moving on you, thighs starting to shake on either side of him.

He was eating you out in a way you’ve never felt before, his actions hungry and fueled by lust, lips and tongue working in tandem as he practically made out with your drooling core, the squelching of his mouth meeting your heat filing your ears. “Matt,” you warn, reaching down to grab at his hair, pushing him off of you.

He pulls away reluctantly, staring down at you with glazed over eyes, his mouth and chin glistening from the mixture of his saliva and your arousal. “What?” He questions, furrowing his eyebrows. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, breathing heavily. “Just close ‘n I don’t wanna finish yet.”

Matt’s confused at your words, staring down at you like he doesn’t quite understand, head tilting slightly as his lips parts to speak. “That’s kind of the whole point of what I’m doing,” he states.

“But… I wanna have sex,” you reply like it’s obvious.

“I thought that’s what we were doing?” Matt lets go of your thighs and runs a hand through his hair, growing more puzzled. “Do you not want me to eat you out?”

Your cheeks are darkening in embarrassment the more this conversation drags on, your hands coming up to cover your face. “I do! You’re really good at it! I just don’t want to cum before you actually… fuck me.”

“Why?” Matt snorts out a laugh, crawling onto the bed and hooking his hands under your thighs again, dragging you up the bed until your head was almost at the headboard, his own body moving to hover over yours. “I’ll just make you cum again. And again…” he leans down until his lips are touching your ear, one hand moving to rub over your clit gently, his two middle fingers rubbing through your slit. “And again, til you can’t even think straight.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he manhandles you, the way he pushed your body up the bed like it was nothing creating a kaleidoscope of butterflies in your stomach. “Really?” You questioned quietly, not used to men even really caring about getting you off even once.

“Mhm,” Matt hums into your ear, lips trailing down over your neck. “That okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you nod your head quickly, nervously. “Just never came more than once before.”

Matt snorts against your collarbone, dipping his two fingers inside of you, your pussy putting up no resistance to him, sucking him in greedily. “Probably because you sleep with a bunch of fucking losers.” He comments, following up his words by sucking a mark into the fleshy mound on your chest barely covered by your bra anymore.

Your back arches off the mattress when his fingers curl inside you, a loud whimper leaving your lips as your hands grip the sheets on either side of you. “Oh my god,” you moan out, ignoring the comment he made. You’ll have to remember to scold him later.

“How ‘bout you just lay there and keep making those pretty noises, yeah?” Matt smirks, sliding down the bed again until his mouth is back on your soaked heat, groaning against your clit when the taste hits his tongue again.

Obsessed doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what he’s feeling, how his mind is absolutely reeling from the way he’s got you coming apart underneath him. The way you taste, the way you sound, it’s all making his mind fuzzy, the buzz from the alcohol fading into the distance as he becomes more pussy drunk than anything in the moment. He’s trying to keep himself from losing control and fucking you into oblivion, grounding himself by listening to the sweet sounds you made.

“So good, Matt, right there,” you cry out, chest heaving as he brings you back to the brink of your orgasm, knuckles turning white against his black sheets. “Fuck, if you don’t stop I’m gonna cum,” you warn him, one of your hands coming down to thread in his hair, this time holding him against you instead of pulling him off.

“Mhmm,” he moans into your skin, tongue lapping up your juices fervently, fingers keeping pace inside of you.

The way his voice rumbled against your clit was all you needed to send you over the edge, your free hand coming up to cover your mouth as you moaned loudly, thighs trembling around Matt’s head.

He coaxed you through it, fingers and tongue unrelenting until you were lax and whimpering against the bed, legs twitching from overstimulation with every movement. Matt pulled his lips away, placing one more small kiss on your clit before looking up at you, smiling at how spent you looked, hair sticking to your forehead and your teeth buried in your hand from trying to keep quiet. “You covered up your pretty mouth,” he fake pouts, crawling back up the bed so his face is above yours. “Now I gotta make you cum again.”

You stare up at him breathlessly, watching as his face comes back into view, his expression dark as he stares at you. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Didn’t wanna be too loud.”

“No such thing,” Matt smiles, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips softly. You melt into the kiss, instantly returning it and tasting yourself on his mouth, something you’d hated in the past but felt immensely turned on by in this situation. He only kisses you for a few moments before he pulls away and gazes down at you again. “I’m gonna fuck you now, okay?”

You nod excitedly, agreeing instantly. He climbs off the bed and pulls his shirt over his head before walking to his bedside table to grab a condom out of the drawer, throwing it next to you on the bed. Your eyes watch the small foil pack as it lands next to you, feeling your heart rate pick up at the realization that this was actually happening. You were about to let your best friend have his way with you in his room during a fucking party, not caring who would hear, and especially not caring about what this would do to your relationship in the moment. Those were consequences you’ll face later, but right now all you could think about was having Matt buried deep inside you.

“Matt?” You sit up slowly and look up from the condom, letting your eyes trail over him, landing on his hands that were working on the button on his jeans, then slowly dragging his zipper down. He hums in response, urging you to continue. You clear your throat nervously, reaching out to pick up the condom. “I haven’t been on birth control for years just for you to not fuck me raw.”

Matt’s lips part as he sucks in a small breath, watching as you tossed the condom back onto the bedside table before smiling up at him. “You serious?” He asks, pushing his jeans down until they fall on their own, stepping out of them before kneeling back over you, his hand coming up to hold onto the back of your neck. You nod again, just as enthusiastic as the first. “Yeah,” you respond softly. “Wanna feel you inside me.”

Matt groans and grabs your shirt to finally pull it fully off, throwing it across the room before he helps you out of your bra as well. “You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he grumbles, shoving you back down onto the bed. A small giggle leaves your lips as he throws you down, hair fanning out over the pillow. The only thing you were left in was the black mini skirt that Matt was obsessed with, the material shoved up and bunched around your hips. It was completely out of the way of what was important, and Matt had no intentions of removing it from you.

Your folds and inner thighs were completely soaked when you spread your legs open for Matt to settle between, the wet skin glimmering in the dim lights of his room, a sight that Matt had to force himself to tear his eyes from so he wouldn’t finish too quickly. “You have no idea how pretty your pussy is, do you?” He mumbled, pushing his briefs just low enough for his dick to spring out, so hard it almost hurt when the cool air hit it. Your ears burned hot at his words, shaking your head gently. “No, I don’t. Wanna tell me how pretty it is?” You reach down to grab the backs of your knees, pulling your legs up and apart to expose yourself to him even more.

“Fuck,” he groans, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “I’m sorry but I’m already about to bust in my pants, can I just…” he clears his throat and reopens his eyes, looking down at the glorious sight below him; you staring up at him as you pull your legs wide open for him, pussy on display and glistening just for him, patiently waiting to pull him into your walls. His hand comes down to wrap around his aching cock and you watch as he starts to jerk himself off, small moans and whimpers leaving his lips, jaw slack from the pleasure.

It takes him less than a minute to stroke himself to his climax, hips stuttering as he coaxed out his load all over your stomach and added to the mess adorning your lower half, your own jaw dropping as you watch him cum all over you. “That was fucking hot,” you praise, a sinister smile forming on your lips.

He laughs, taking a few deep breaths before he situates his hips against yours, resting his tip against your entrance. “Thanks. I was not going to last at all and I’ve always wondered what you’d look like covered in my cum, so.. two birds.” He joked.

You’re about to laugh with him when he shoves himself inside you, bottoming out in one thrust. The movement rips a gasp from your lips, face contorting in a mix of pleasure and pain from the sudden stretch. “Oh!” You squeak out, locking eyes with Matt as he drags his own gaze up your body to stare down into your eyes. “My fucking god,” he groaned, slowly dragging his cock out of you before pushing back in, pulling a soft whine out of your lips. “Holding that pussy wide open for me, hm?”

You bite your lip harshly as your head drops back onto the pillow, eyes rolling back as Matt starts up a quick rhythm, his cock deliciously dragging through your walls. The angle of your legs being pushed up had him hitting every sweet spot inside of you, your voice growing hoarse from how much you were whining and moaning, hands starting to lose your grip on your legs. “C’mon, baby, don’t let up now, show me how pretty you look taking my cock so well.”

You’re trying your best when you readjust your grip on the backs of your knees, but the mixture of sweat and how weak you felt made the task difficult, your hands sliding around and unable to get a good grip. “Can’t, Matt,” you whimper, opening your eyes again to look back up at him, silently begging for help. He notices your struggle and pushes your hands away with his own, spreading his fingers out on the backs of your thighs to push them against you, the new angle of his cock inside you making you cry out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, right there, please don’t stop, need you right there.” You babble on, staring up at Matt as his eyes stay trained on where your bodies meet.

“Touch yourself, princess,” Matt demands, forcing his gaze up to meet yours, admiring the way your eyes were glazed over and half covered by heavy eyelids. “If you can’t hold your legs up you gotta touch yourself for me, baby.”

You’re taken aback, not used to such demands. Normally the guys you slept with didn’t even care about if you finished or not, and now here Matt was making sure you came at least twice. It was a bit confusing at first, but you eventually processed his words, eyebrows furrowing. “But, Matt, I-,”

He cuts you off with a sharp dig into your thighs with his fingers, silencing you immediately. “Fucking touch yourself for me,” he says again, leaving no room for argument. “Wanna see you cum all over me, see your pretty face and hear how good you sound.”

Really, who were you to deny such a convincing statement? Especially when he asked so nicely.

“Fuck,” you whisper in defeat, bringing your hand between your legs and taking a deep breath before pressing your two middle fingers into your clit, whimpering softly as you drew small circles around it, the pleasure of that mixing with the way Matt still thrust into you making you clench your eyes shut again, moaning as your head dug back into the pillow, back arching into the pleasure. “Oh my god, so good, Matt.”

Once he saw your eyes close again, Matt looked down to where your hand was picking up speed on your sensitive nerves, your movements and his grinding matching up in pace until your legs were trembling again, still held in place by his rough grip. “That’s perfect, baby, shit, you’re fucking made for me, hm? Made to take me all the way like this?”

“Yes,” you choke out, throat starting to straight from how hard you were rubbing yourself, breath starting to catch in your throat. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, oh my god, Matt, I’m cumming again,” you gasp, whole body tensing up for a few seconds before your orgasm crashed over you, your whole body shaking and legs trying to close but unable to due to Matt holding them in place. He’s groaning loudly, thrusts becoming uncoordinated as he chased his own high, his mouth dropping in pleasure when he finally reached his peak, loud, attractive moans spilling from his lips.

Matt’s own eyes are screwed shut as he paints his release over your walls, breath shaky as he slows down, unaware of how hard he’s gripping into your skin until you whine his name out and push your legs out of his grip. When he lets go, his forearms come down to rest on either side of your head, his face burying in your neck.

“Fuuuck,” he groans tiredly, still buried inside you. “Y’have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fuck you like that.”

You laugh, running a clammy hand over his equally sweaty back, patting his skin in a teasing matter. “Glad you got it out of your system.” You reply.

His head pops up after you speak, staring down at you questioningly. “Oh, I didn’t. I’ve still got plenty of fantasies to run through.” Matt tells you, and though his tone is silly, you know he’s completely serious, so you raise your eyebrows at him inquisitively. “Did this not fulfill your fantasies?” You ask him.

He scoffs and sends you a classic Matt eye roll, like he couldn’t believe you were actually asking him that. “It did, but only some. I’ve got like a year’s worth of filthy shit I wanna do to you.” He tells you, dipping back down to nip at the soft skin on your neck, sucking it into his mouth for a moment before letting go, blowing over the wet spot to make you shiver. “Like mark you up, fuck you all over my house, in my car, in the shower, I wanna fuck you on your hands and knees, wanna watch you ride me, wanna fuck that pretty, pretty mouth of yours, wanna hear you beg for me…” his lips are moving down your skin as he speaks, leaving soft kisses along his route until he’s nestled between your breasts, pulling away to look down at your body. “Wanna be able to call you mine,” he confesses, leaning back in to take your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. The feeling made you whine softly, your core tingling in anticipation, even though you were spent and anymore contact might make you cry.

“Matt,” you huff, reaching up to grab his face and push him off, looking down at his pouty expression. “Everything is so sensitive, feels like my skin is on fire.”

He smiles down at you, like he’s taken your words in the complete opposite direction you meant, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Perfect, so you can give me one more, yeah?”

You’re still processing what he’s said by the time he’s scooted back down the bed and positioned his face between your legs once again, a big grin on his face. You’re about to push him away and tell him you can’t take anymore, you’re too overstimulated to give him anything else, but when his mouth comes forward and starts working on you again, you’re silenced aside from the loud groans and whines coming from your lips, deciding one more couldn’t hurt.

-

a/n: matt’s favorite adjective for you is pretty. clearly (:

also welcome to my playlist series! leave requests for songs you’d like me to write songs based off of

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah

@sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo

@secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff

@imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @mattsside

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@sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @aria003

@poppingmypussy4chris @victoryouactuallydidthis @seluky10 @annsx03 @ouchywow @pasteldreams @sweetshuga

[mrsbarnesblog]

one step at a time

masterlist

summary: after being rejected by you, the person who managed to catch Rafe's attention in a way no one else ever had, he goes spiraling into his addiction even more. you happened to be the only one who was able to pull him out of the turmoil in which he had buried himself in the last years.

words count: 6.5k

warnings: drug addiction, withdrawls, mutual pinning, angsty with happy ending

a/n: i've been writing and rewriting it since august and i still don't know whether i like the final result or not, so i'm ready for your feedback. aaaand happy new year to all of you, my precious followers. hope this one will bring you only the best💘

You felt your skin getting hotter under the intense gaze of a particular guy who had been starring at you whenever you two were in the same room. The one who was present in your head all the time, no matter how hard you tried to get distracted and convince yourself that it was not the person that you needed in your life.

Rafe Cameron.

He was in a circle of his so-called friends, mostly not paying attention to them and instead watching you. You didn’t know when it started to happen—when the looks that you gave to each other started to get longer and more frequent, when your eyes started to search around the rooms until they found what they wanted, when the small talks that you had during official Kook’s events became so awkward and nervous.

Your fathers worked together for a few years, so you weren’t friends, more like acquaintances who occasionally attended the same galas and parties, where you usually ended up in the same circle of people. And who, well, might have developed a secret crush on each other. 

The thing is, you didn’t know why you felt that way. Rafe was certainly not the nicest person on the island, yet you didn’t have a real reason to hate him either. He was a menace; he was spoiled and thrived on attention from others. But Rafe was undeniably hot, so damn attractive without even trying, and you just wanted him. Your whole body was gravitating towards him, no matter how you tried to get this bullshit out of your head. 

Still, you knew for a fact that no matter how much even his presence in the room affected you, seeing him do countless and countless lines at every party pushed you away from him more than anything else ever could. You were not the one to ever judge people for their addictions, but seeing many times what drugs did to people, you didn’t want to deal with it at all. Remembering the first time you noticed it, the first time Sarah cried because of how her brother became so reckless and that she was scared for him, a shiever ran down your spine. 

You excused yourself and left from inside the house when the air became to thick with the smell of smoke, alcohol, and sweat from people all around you and when your thoughts started to wander in the familiar direction. You found a semi-quiet space at the balcony on the second floor, but it didn’t take too long until someone else went there, as you heard footsteps approaching you. 

“What are you doing here alone?” You instantly turned around at the sound of Rafe’s smooth voice, only to catch him looking at you up and down with a gleam in his eyes. You heart raced, almost breaking out of your ribcage, while you tried to visibly not freak out.

“Nothing, just needed some fresh air.” You shrugged. “And why are you here?” 

“Honestly?” He chuckled, seemingly feeling nervous, as his right hand started rubbing the back of his neck. “I followed you.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah, kinda wanted to talk to you alone for a long time.” He stepped closer, mostly looking at the floor and licking his lips. You didn’t know whether it was the chill air or the fact that Rafe’s presence had a weird influence on you, but you shivered. “You’re so pretty tonight, y’know? I mean, always. Thought I could ask you to hang out sometime. Like without shit tons of people around us?”

Your eyes followed the movements of his slightly trembling hands and the realization that he was high again made your heart sink. It were drugs speaking, you were sure that he wouldn’t have done it with a sober mind, so you just pursed your lips at the bitter feeling in your chest. 

Rafe was almost jittery, either from finally asking you out or the powder that was currently flooding his system — he didn’t even know that himself. He wanted to ask you out for ages, always thinking about the way you pulled his attention like a magnet, the way he craved you more with every passing day, but it seemed like there was never a good moment for that. 

“Rafe…” You breathed out his name, your eyes finally finding his. Pupils dilated, almost covering the pretty blue color, and the look so distant, weird, as if he wasn’t even fully there. “I can’t. This is wrong. I don’t want to do it like that.” 

“You-you’re looking at me. I know I’m not fucking crazy. You look at me the same way I look at you, don’t bullshit me, Y/N.” His eyes narrowed, his throat suddenly dry from the nerves and a hurting feeling of rejection. He stepped closer, which seemed like a way to intimidate you, but you weren't afraid of him, not even in this state of mind. 

“I’m not… denying it, okay? I like you, for some reason.” Your cheeks heated, and you started fidgeting with your fingers, but still looking up at him with seriousness and concern. “But I hate your lifestyle, Rafe. Say whatever you want, but this is not normal. You’re high even right now—I see it in your eyes. Will you even remember this party, me, our conversation the next morning?”

Was it anger that was bubbling inside of him right now? Or maybe agitation? Whatever it was, it hurt him deeply, more than he could admit. For the first time ever, Rafe actually, genuinely, became interested in someone, not with the intention of a meaningless hook up, but just because something was pulling him towards you. And, of course, he had to fuck everything up again with his dumb ass desicions. 

Who was he kidding, thinking that you wouldn’t care about the coke? You were possibly the sweetest person on the island, despite being a kook, and he had never even heard any rumors about you doing anything illegal. You were just the definition of a rich girl who enjoyed her perfect life on an island, hanging out with your friends, doing your hobbies, and never getting into trouble. 

Rafe just wanted to hit his head against the wall from the amount of mixed feelings and thoughts that his poor overstimulated mind was experiencing right now. 

“Rafe, please listen and understand what I say. I’m not rejecting you. I’m just saying that I can’t commit to anything if you’re not even fully there. If the situation was different, I would’ve happily accepted it.” His attention was focused on the floor, but from the way his jaw was clenching while you were talking, you knew that he was listening. “These people are not your friends, because they let you do that and they do not care. You should stop destroying your mind and your body with drugs while you can.” 

You tried to reach out to touch him, but he flinched. 

“Yeah, I–I get it. See ya later.” He mumbled under his breath, not even looking at you.

“Rafe, wait! Rafe!” You tried to call out, but he was already gone, mixing in the croud of people in the main room.

You pushed on the button on the doorbell for the third time, but it seemed like Cameron’s house was silent. Rafe’s truck was on the driveway, as was his red bike, so you knew that he must be home. 

After that talk with Rafe almost three weeks ago, you only heard about him and caught a few glimpses with his friends at Figure 8. People talked that he had gone even crazier than usual and that Shoupe arrested him twice. You were worried that it might be your fault, but just when you decided to catch Rafe the next time you see him, he vanished for the whole day. 

You had to call Sarah to ask what was wrong with her brother, making up a stupid excuse for your sudden interest, and the only thing that she told you was him not getting out of his room and acting weird.

Maybe it was a bad idea to come here uninvited when clearly no one else besides Rafe was home, or because you weren’t even that close, but it was too late to go back when you opened the front door and slowly went up the stairs to his room. 

You were in the house a few times already, when your families had their usual gatherings together, so you pretty much knew where you had to look for Rafe. You stopped in front of his door, unsure of your actions, but before you could run away like a child, your hand had already knocked on the door.

The soft groans and mumbling were heard inside, as well as the sound of the bedsheets and something falling on the floor. Your first thought about him having someone over there made your heart drop for a second, but another groan, almost painful, filled you with concern.  

“Get—get the fuck away, Sarah. T-told you a million fu-ucking times.” Rafe’s voice was hoarse, and it seemed like he was trembling with the way it shaked. You heard cussing and more groans. He did not sound like himself with those strange pauses and unusual sounds, which made the level of your worry skyrocket. What if he was doing coke in there, or maybe something stronger? His ego must’ve gotten hurt because of your rejection, and now he was putting that shit up his nose again. 

“It’s not Sarah, Rafe. Open, please.” You rested your head on the door, listening to the complete silence after your words. He was thinking—you knew that. He was trying to figure something out, and the fact that you didn’t know what was exactly happening frightened you. "Fuck, are you doing it again? I won’t go until you open the door. Rafe, this is not funny!” 

You didn’t expect to see what was in front of you. As soon as the door opened, another version of Rafe was looking at you. He was barely standing straight, gripping the side of the door for dear life, shaking like a leaf and sweating. His face was pale, with almost white lips and bloodshot, exhausted eyes. 

You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand, but stepped closer to take a hold of his face. He took something worse than cocaine. He’s high again. It’s bad. Your mind immediately went to a dark place, already feeling tears at the brim of your eyes. 

That’s when Rafe’s eyes met yours, and you froze in place. 

“You are clean.” You said, not asked, breathlessly. Tired, red, and slightly watery, but still clear, eyes looked right at you with a mixture of shame and relief. He licked his lips a few times, probably dehydrated, trying to stay focused on you despite feeling too sick to stand up straight. “Oh my god, Rafe, I thought—What's happening?” 

When he didn’t respond to you, with a new wave of confidence, you pushed him back into the darkness of the room, closing the door behind you and looking around. It was a mess, but no empty bottles, white powder, or random credit cards were seen, and you sighed with relief. 

Rafe was barely holding himself up. His body was fighting against him, craving that poisonous relief again. He swayed on his legs, suddenly feeling way too hot again, even though his skin was covered in goosebumps. It started to become more than he could handle, but another reminder that you were, in fact, right in front of him came in the form of your hands holding his face. 

Your soft eyes were searching for something in him while he tried to focus on your face. He thought that maybe he started hallucinating because, why else would you be there? Rafe leaned forward as his face curled in pain. You hummed in response, taking some of his body weight on yourself. Your hands stayed on his face, while his own trembling ones fell on your waist for some kind of support. 

At first, he thought that he was mad at you. After you rejected him, when he finally found power in himself to talk to you at that party, he was furious. He came back to his friends, immediately pulling out a plastic bag from his pocket and emptying it on the table in front of him. He inhaled more than he needed, hurt and angry from what you said to him. It blocked his mind for some time as everything around got muffled and blurry. His heart was pounding, his breath shallow, but his mind spun faster than he could keep up with. Every word you’d said echoed in his head, sharper and more painful each time.

It went on like that for some time, and at one point Rafe couldn’t even figure out what day it was. Everything was just a blur of parties, his coke buddies, and countless lines on every surface possible. It was bad, and at the back of his mind he knew that he was spiraling somewhere he wouldn’t be able to get out of, but then again, he had no one to try for. Ward didn’t care as long as Rafe didn’t cause any problems; his sisters gave him stares that he thought were either pity or disgust, as you... you weren’t there to fully see it all, so he did everything to prove God knows what, knowing damn well that it was hurt.  

The coke gave him fleeting moments of numbness, but it never lasted. The hurt always came back, heavier and sharper, gnawing at him when the highs faded and the quiet of his thoughts became unbearable.

It all was adding up, until one time Sarah caught him blacked out on the couch besides the pool. He still didn’t know whether it was a game of his mind or it happened actually, but he remembered her faint silhouette, sitting in front of him. She sounded like she was crying, but he wasn’t sure—too high to actually understand. What he remembers were her words, that surprisingly his mind was able to comprehend even in that state. “I thought you were gonna get better. I thought Y/N would be the one to pull you out of this.” Her voice cracked, a mix of sadness and disappointment that cut through the fog in his brain. “But look at you, Rafe. You’re worse than ever.”

Rafe’s vision blurred, though he couldn’t tell if it was from the high or the emotion clawing its way to the surface. He tried to move, to sit up, but his body felt like lead. He hated how vulnerable he felt in that moment, laid out in front of his sister like a broken mess.

“He cares about you, you know. She told me a long time ago how much she liked you. I know you do too. And you could’ve had it all if only you were able to get out of your own way.” Sarah said, her voice soft but edged with frustration. “But instead, you’re here, killing yourself slowly over something that you could fix. Or maybe you’re just too scared to try.”

“I’m not scared.” He gritted his teeth, groaning at the baanging noises in his head.

“Then prove it. Fix your life, Rafe. Until it’s too late.” 

He didn't remember what happened after that, but then he woke up with a more clear head, still confused and disoriented. Sarah’s words were hanging at the back of his head.

What was he even trying to prove? To you? To himself? He’d spent so much time running from the pain, from the rejection, from the fear that he hadn’t realized he was running in circles, destroying everything in his path.

Rafe stood shakily, gripping the back of the couch for support. His reflection in the sliding glass door caught his eye, and he barely recognized the person staring back. Bloodshot eyes, hollow cheeks, and a gauntness that hadn’t been there before. It was a version of himself he couldn’t stand to look at anymore.

He wasn’t sure where to start or if he even knew how to fix it, but he knew one thing: Sarah, once, was right. If he didn’t make a change now, it would be too late. Too late for you to ever see him as someone worth caring about again. Too late to prove to himself that he could be better.

Dragging a hand down his face, Rafe took a shaky breath. One step at a time, he thought, Sarah’s voice still echoing in his mind. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he could do it. He didn’t know if it would be enough, but for the first time, he wanted to try.

“It burns. I feel like my body is on fuckin’ fire. It’s in my veins. I can’t take it anymore, Y/N.” Rafe’s eyes flattered, and his breathing became heavier as another wave of heat washed over him. “I don’t wanna take coke again, but shit—-“

“You can, Rafe. I know you can. You’re doing so well. You have to fight it just a little longer.” You ran your thumbs over his cheeks and realized that he was way too hot. “You need to cool off a little. Can you take a cold shower? Can you do that by yourself?” You slightly patted his cheek until his eyes focused back on yours.

“You actually came?” His voice was hesitant, almost fragile, and a sad smile touched your lips.

“I did. I’ll help you, okay?”

“Mhm… Stay here? Please.” He almost begged, leaning into your touch and licking his dry lips again. With your touch still lingering on his face, Rafe stumbled into his private bathroom while you decided to prepare everything for him. 

After politely rummaging through the room, you found new bed sheets to replace the old ones. Then you quickly aired the room, brought a couple water bottles from the kitchen downstairs, and turned on only one light to not disturb Rafe and his sensitive mind right now. 

As you were cleaning up, you got lost in your thoughts about what had happened in the past few weeks. From Rafe asking you out, then seemingly going crazy because of your rejection, and now his attempt to quit drugs. Not that you didn’t believe in him, but he was so stubborn, and with the amount of problems constantly surrounding him, it wouldn’t be so surprising if he had just ignored you and continued living his own way. 

But you wanted him to get clean so badly because you hated the way coke was affecting him. You knew him for a pretty long time now, and you couldn’t miss the changes in his behavior after he started using. You wanted to see the real him, wanted to help him out, no matter how cliche it sounded. 

You hated that he was so careless about his own body and mind that he willingly put that shit up his nose again and again, thinking that it would change anything. You had feelings for Rafe, you did for a long time, no matter how many people openly said that he was a disaster and a big problem. One thing that you knew for sure was that if he really wanted to try, then you would support him. 

You heard the bathroom door creak open and turned to see Rafe leaning against the frame. He looked exhausted, his damp hair falling into his eyes, his skin pale but no longer feverish. He wore a fresh pair of sweatpants, the towel he had used slung loosely around his shoulders. His expression was a mix of vulnerability and shame, like he wasn’t sure he deserved the care you were giving him.

“Hey.” You said softly, walking over to him. “You feeling any better?”

He nodded faintly, his eyes meeting yours. “A little.” He admitted, though his voice was hoarse. “Thanks for… all this.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to thank me. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Rafe’s movements were a little slower than usual when he came closer to you, as if he craved your presence around him. “Just made you a fresh bed. I also brought some water because you’re probably dehydrated. You should try to fall asleep, and I’ll stay here if you want to.” You softly smiled, not missing the way his eyes were glued to your lips, as if he were trying to understand you better. 

“Yeah—shit, I mean okay.” Rafe started breathing heavily again, shaking his head to clear the fog and trying to stop his hands from shaking. 

In a few minutes, you managed to get you both into his bed, with you sitting against the headboard and Rafe’s head comfortably placed on the pillow on your lap. He was facing you, so you could see the way his eyes were flattering while he tried to control himself. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked quietly, mindlessly running your hands through his long hair.

“Didn’t think that you would care about it, ‘cause you clearly said no to me.” He shrugged, while one of his hands sneaked under the pillow on your legs and touched your thigh. It wasn’t sexual in any way, but it gave Rafe some kind of comfort.

“I care about you. You are my friend.”

“I don’t wanna be your friend, Y/N.” 

You shook your head at his stubbornness, sliding your fingers down the side of his face. “I know, but we are. At least for now.” Rafe scoffed, tightening the grip on your thigh and trembling as another wave of chills washed over his body. “Sh-h. Remember, I didn’t say ‘no’. I said that I can’t commit to anything if you’re not fully here. It would be unfair for both of us. So now you have to get better, and then we’ll work from there.” His tired eyes met yours as if he were trying to understand whether you were serious or not. “When was the last time you used anything?”

“Yesterday morning.” 

“Mhm, so it’s your second day already. That’s amazing, Ray.” 

Rafe just hummed in response, his mouth suddenly feeling extremely dry. You made him drink some water, trying to convince him that his body needed to get rid of the toxins, and one of the best ways to do it was by drinking a lot of fluids. He was surprisingly obedient, just going back to his previous position with one hand on your leg and facing you. 

You two settled into a comfortable silence, both too lost in your own heads and thoughts. 

Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave your face. No matter how hard it was for him to focus, he studied your features that were perfectly illuminated by the small lamp. He looked at you countless times, always sneaking glances when no one would notice, but right now he thought that you looked the most beautiful. With a soft smile and eyes and slightly messy hair. 

Your hand that was brushing through his dump hair and then touching his face like a feather was almost too good to be true, making Rafe almost forget about the poisonous cravings and unusual reactions of his body. You, you, you—were the only thing on his mind. It was soothing and peaceful. It was calming the storm in his head, so Rafe didn’t want this moment to ever end. 

You mindlessly traced lines on Rafe’s face, just admiring the way he seemed to be calm and relaxed, as much as it was possible in his condition, and how it differentiated from the way he had always acted. Maybe it was stupid on your part to get closer with Rafe so easily, because, let’s face it, he could go back to his habits as soon as you stepped out of the house. Everyone around you constantly talked about him being the type of person who would never change to please somebody and who would never put his pride aside. 

But no matter how hard you tried, the boy in front of you, the one who looked at you with trust and unusual softness, made your heart beat faster. Your body and mind were screaming that you did the right thing and that he was worth saving, so you couldn’t just walk away and pretend to feel nothing. 

As you watched his eyes start to flutter with sleepiness, your own hands slowed down. With the wave of comfort that his company and the atmosphere of the room had brought you, you didn’t notice how you fell asleep. 

The next few days were rough for both of you, with Rafe trying to pull his shit together and not give up and with you trying to be as helpful as possible. He struggled a lot. You saw that pretty clearly, but what you also saw was how actually strong Rafe was and how determined he became to get through it. 

It was underestimating to say that your help and support meant everything to him. Your words of encouragement, your genuine kindness and willingness to help, your visits and time that you spend in his room—it all made it seem like the efforts were not worthless and that there was a reason to fight. 

After almost a week since the day you first fell asleep in Rafe’s bed, your relationship started progressing rapidly. You started actually getting to know each other, and countless text messages and phone calls were proof of that. 

He was feeling much better; the worst of the withdrawal symptoms had passed, and the fog in his mind started to lift. It wasn’t perfect, and there were moments where he felt overwhelmed by the weight of everything he had to face, but he was getting there. You could see it in the way he started to smile more often and how his voice had grown steadier on the phone; he became calmer and wasn’t always on the edge of snapping. 

Your attraction to Rafe grew rapidly whenever you saw the real version of him, the one that was soft and caring, brought up to the surface—the one that had been buried beneath layers of anger, frustration, and his addiction. The version of him that you knew had always been there but had been clouded for so long. It was these moments, the quiet ones when he was relaxed and open, when his vulnerability came through, that made your heart ache in ways you hadn’t expected.

Sitting on the porch at your house, you thought about Rafe and your time together, and your tummy fluttered with anticipation for what was yet to come. You saw that longing look in Rafe's eyes, and you weren’t one bit surprised because that night he clearly said that your friendship was not enough for him, but you hoped to move slowly. 

Even if your breath always hitched whenever he stepped closer or lowered himself to say something to you. 

Even if your heart skipped a bit whenever you saw a message with his name next to it. 

A notification from your phone brought you back to the present, and as soon as you saw Rafe’s text, you proved yourself right. Your heart skipped a beat again as a shy smile touched your lips. 

Café near the beach? My treat. I have something to show you

k, i’ll be there in fifteen

When you got out of the taxi, your eyes scanned the people sitting in the open area under the light of the setting sun, but you didn’t see one particular guy who started messing with your head in the best way possible. 

That was until you saw someone turning their head back, as if they sensed you standing there, and your mouth fell open in shock. 

You came closer as Rafe stood up from his chair with a smug look on his face, but your eyes were too hungry, taking him in, to even try to be respectful. 

“Your hair! Oh god, Rafe! How—why—when?" Your hand reached out to touch his freshly buzzed hair, rubbing it back and forth. 

“Texted you as soon as I finished. Just wanted to get rid of the past, y’know.” He shrugged, soft eyes studying your face that was way closer while you inspected his new haircut. “Don’t you like it?”

“It’s hot—I mean, you look hot. It suits you.” You stepped back, looking up and down, trying to memorize a new image. Rafe did look hotter. You suddenly noticed his sharp jawline, strong neck, and shoulders. Damn, he looked bigger. He looked healthier. With that spark in his blue eyes, smoothed, tan skin, and muscles... Oh god, you felt your face getting hotter as your eyes lingered on his arms way too long. 

How the hell did you miss his sudden transformation from being a frat guy to a rich golden boy? Was it the effect of his quitting drugs and finally drifting apart with his previous lifestyle and friends?

“It definitely does. Though I'll miss playing with them.” You mumbled, suddenly nervous and shy under his gaze.

“You think I look hot, hm?” He teased, placing a firm yet gentle hand on your lower back.

Touchy, but never overstepping. 

“Don’t you know that already?” You bit your lip to hold back a smile, placing your hands on Rafe’s upper arms and looking up through your lashes. You both felt that sudden tickling feeling running through your veins at the eye contact, and it made you both start smiling without any words being said. 

“A’ight, I think we should go get something to eat.” 

You were going around the people who flooded the beach house that you were currently in. With you constantly spending time with Rafe, your friends almost begged you to the party, only to leave you almost instantly as they got too interested in the experience of alcohol. Not that you were too upset about it, because you still asked Rafe to come with you, and he was more than happy to do anything for you. 

The music was too loud in the main room, and you went through the back door to an open yard that led right to the beach and was still full of drunk people, but at least there was some fresh air, and Rafe had already been waiting for you on the bench near the big wooden table with lots of drinks. 

You left him just for a few minutes just to use a bathroom, but when you stepped outside, you saw him talking to a guy that you had only seen around when Rafe was doing drugs. Your heart started beating faster at the sight of their obviously not so calm conversation, and you rushed closer to know what was happening. 

“Rare? What’s going on?” You stepped beside him, brushing your hand against his stiff back. “What do you want from him?” You pointed a finger at the guy whose name you didn’t bother to remember, and he just snickered back at you. 

“Nothing. It’s alright, sweetheart.” 

“Quit being a pussy, man. I have the best shit with me today. You’ll get high as a kite.” The guy completely ignored you, only looking at Rafe. You could physically feel the anxiety washing over you at the thought of it happening again, of Rafe just walking away with him right now and leaving you here alone. 

You tugged at his arm, trying to catch his attention. “Rafe, you promised. We should go now, please.” He looked back at you, nodding without hesitation and catching your hand to interlace your fingers. 

“Told you that I quit it. Go chase someone else, Hugh.” 

“Because of this bitch?” The moment this word left his mouth, Rafe’s hands gripped the front of Hugh’s t-shirt, backing him against the table and knocking over a few bottles. 

“Call her a bitch one more fucking time and I’ll knock off your teeth.” The guy lifted his hands in surrender, as Rafe was seething with anger, without a doubt meaning what he just said. 

You tugged gently on his arm again, trying to ease the situation. “Rafe, let’s just go, please.” You urged, your voice soft but firm, hoping to ground him before things escalated any further.

Rafe’s breath was heavy, his grip on Hugh’s shirt still tight, but his eyes were fixed on you now, softening at your touch. Slowly, he released Hugh, stepping back and running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, we’re done here.” Rafe muttered, his voice low and controlled, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface. You guided him away from the curious people, who were already whispering about the unfolded scene.

You sat on a wooden bench under a giant tree, with your legs thrown over Rafe’s and almost no distance between you two. It happened so instantly, so naturally, that none of you even thought about it. Rafe had his warm hands laying on your thighs and knees and rubbing your exposed skin in small circles, keeping his eyes down.

A silence lingered between the two of you, and while Rafe was too lost in his head, you took your time to admire him. You spent so much time together over the past month, not because you felt obliged to, but because it was simply amazing. Underneath all of those layers, you found real Rafe, the one who was teasing, who was funny, and the one who was super protective and incredibly caring.

You had never expected to be absolutely down for a man like him, but he was getting so much better with every passing day, never giving you a reason to doubt his intentions. Of course you didn’t forget Rafe’s words about him wanting to be more than your friend, and it lingered over your head every time you caught him staring at you. Though he had never rushed anything, wanting to have that natural bond between you grow stronger and only showing his hidden desires with glances full of admiration and with careful touches. 

Rafe’s head suddenly shot up, eyes clear yet narrowed. He smirked, seeing you already looking at him and subconsciously tightening his hold on your leg. He held eye contact for a few seconds, making a smile tug at your lips before he looked away, shaking his head with a deep chuckle. 

“What?” You half-whispered, suddenly feeling shy. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing to me?” You tilt your head slightly to the side, trying to hold back a smile, but miserably fail when he moves a tiny bit closer and all you can see, feel, and smell is him. “You’re like— I’m— Fuck, you made me stutter like a damn middle schooler…” He was completely infatuated by you, barely able to handle his violently beating heart.  

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound warm and full of affection. The way Rafe was fumbling with his words, clearly flustered, made you feel something deep in your chest—a flutter that wasn’t just attraction but something more vulnerable, something you hadn’t expected to feel when you first started spending time together.

“Rafe…” You whispered, leaning in just a little, your voice low and teasing. “You’re so cute when you’re like this.”

His eyes darkened slightly at your words, the smirk on his lips turning into something more sincere, more tender. He took a deep breath, shifting so he was closer, his chest nearly touching yours. His fingers slowly and carefully traced the edge of your skirt, and the way his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips made the air feel thick with tension.

“Don’t do that.” He said softly, his voice a mixture of amusement and longing. “I’m trying not to make this harder for myself.”

“Trying?” You raised an eyebrow, your teasing smile not leaving your lips. You knew exactly what you were doing, enjoying every second of his reaction. “You’re doing a pretty terrible job of it.”

Rafe exhaled sharply, his hand now resting on your waist, his thumb brushing back and forth slowly as if he were trying to steady himself. You could feel his breath on your skin, warm and erratic. He leaned forward just enough to close the space between your faces, his lips hovering over yours, but not touching. The energy in the air around you suddenly shifted, and you raised your hand to his neck to pull him even closer.

“I don’t want to rush this.” Rafe murmured, his voice low and serious, his forehead gently pressing against yours. “But god… you make it so damn hard to hold back.”

You could feel his heart beating against yours, the rhythm erratic but strong. You didn’t speak for a moment, simply breathing with him, caught up in the quiet intensity of the moment.

“You don’t have to hold back. I’m not going anywhere, Ray.” You said softly, your voice almost a promise.

And with that, the tension seemed to snap, the silent understanding between you both growing stronger. He finally closed the space between you, his lips pressing gently against yours, tentative at first, as if he were still unsure but desperate to feel you. And as the kiss deepened, as he pulled you closer to his body, you were completely lost. 

The kiss deepened further, his tongue gently coaxing yours into a slow dance. He was lost in you, the intensity of the moment making everything else fade away. The way you responded, so naturally, so eagerly, only fueled his desire. Rafe’s grip on you tightened, pulling you onto his lap, your bodies fully pressed together now, the heat of his body seeping into yours.

When he finally pulled back, his lips still brushed against yours, his breath shaky and uneven. He looked at you, his eyes full of something deeper than just desire—there was a tenderness, raw and vulnerable, something that had been buried beneath the walls he’d built around himself.

"Thank you." Rafe breathed out, his voice thick with emotion. "For being here. For helping me... through all of this. I don’t think I could have done it without you."

You smiled softly, licking your lips before speaking. “You don’t have to thank me. You should be proud of yourself for being able to do that.” You traced your fingers down the side of his face. “Just promise me you won’t stop trying if something hard happens, okay? You have me, and you have your sixers who care about you too.”

“Okay. I won’t. I promise.” Turning his head to the side to place a kiss on the palm of your hand that lingered on his face, Rafe pulled your body closer to him. There was still a lot to work on, but hidden away from other people, you finally savoured a quiet moment between you two, and for the first time, there was nothing but peace and warmth in both of your hearts.