#but no blowjobs
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Congratulazions baby you deserve that 800 fol, now for the request imagine age swap AU strollonso where fernando is the controversially young bf
aaaaa tysm anon :33
AND I HAD THIS IDEA AGES AGO THANK YOU FOR FINALLY MAKING ME DO IT!!! LUVLUVLUV YOUUUU
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The sleek, glistening hull of Lance Stroll’s $4.8 million yacht cut through the waters of Monaco’s harbor, its polished wood deck and luxurious interiors gleaming under the midday sun.
Lance leaned against the railing, dressed casually in a loose white linen shirt and shorts, a glass of champagne in hand. Fernando, his ever-present smirk teasing at the edges of his lips, sat across from him on a plush sun lounger, sipping from his own glass.
They had come here to escape the chaos of their first season as teammates, to enjoy a quiet afternoon together. But Monaco was Monaco — privacy was always an illusion.
On deck, the pair seemed utterly oblivious to the prying eyes of the paparazzi perched on nearby boats and zooming in from the harbor with high-powered lenses. Lance leaned in, murmuring something to Fernando that made the scandalously young driver laugh — a warm, genuine sound rarely heard on race weekends. Fernando reached out, his hand settling casually on Lance’s knee, and Lance responded by running a hand through Fernando’s hair, leaning in closer.
And then it happened: Lance kissed him.
It wasn’t a fleeting kiss, either. It was deliberate, slow, and searingly intimate, the kind of kiss that left no room for misinterpretation. Lance’s hand cupped Fernando’s jaw with a gentle yet possessive touch, his thumb brushing against the rough stubble there as if savoring every inch of him. Fernando’s initial surprise melted away almost instantly, his lips parting under Lance’s, the kiss deepening as their breaths mingled in the salty air.
Fernando’s hand slid up Lance’s arm, his fingers grazing over the toned muscle before gripping his shoulder firmly. He pulled Lance closer, their bodies brushing together as the kiss grew more fervent. Lance responded by wrapping an arm around Fernando’s waist, tugging him forward until there was barely an inch of space left between them.
The world around them seemed to blur into nothingness — the distant hum of boat engines, the chatter of onlookers from nearby yachts, even the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull. None of it mattered. The only thing Lance was aware of was the intoxicating warmth of Fernando’s lips, the way his fingers tangled in the soft curls at the nape of Fernando’s neck, and the soft, breathy sound Fernando made as Lance’s tongue brushed against his.
Fernando tilted his head, giving Lance better access as the kiss turned hungrier, more urgent. His free hand slid down Lance’s chest, tracing the outline of his shirt with featherlight touches before gripping the fabric and tugging him even closer. Lance’s fingers moved lower, brushing along the hem of Fernando’s shirt before slipping beneath it to rest against his bare skin. The heat of the contact sent a shiver through Fernando, and he responded by gripping Lance’s hip, his fingertips digging in just enough to leave a memory of their embrace.
When they pulled back, it was only to gasp for air, their foreheads pressed together as they struggled to steady their breathing. But neither moved away. Instead, Lance leaned in again, his lips grazing the corner of Fernando’s mouth before trailing down to his jawline, then lower, to the sensitive spot just beneath his ear. Fernando let out a quiet groan, his hand sliding up Lance’s chest to rest against the back of his neck, encouraging him.
“Lance,” Fernando murmured, his voice low and thick with need, “we’re still in public.”
“Let them watch, mon chéri,” Lance replied, his voice husky, the words murmured against Fernando’s skin before he placed another slow, lingering kiss along his collarbone.
Fernando laughed softly, but it was cut off as Lance’s hands roamed further, sliding up his back beneath his shirt. The younger man’s body leaned into Lance’s touch, his head tilting back as he surrendered to the moment. Lance took full advantage, his lips exploring the column of Fernando’s throat, leaving a trail of heat and goosebumps in their wake.
Unbeknownst to them, the paparazzi had their lenses trained on the pair, capturing every heated moment of their entanglement. The photos showed more than just a kiss — they revealed hands clutching fabric, bodies pressed together, and the undeniable connection between them.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the harbor in hues of gold and amber, Lance and Fernando finally pulled away, their breaths ragged, their faces flushed.
Fernando met Lance’s gaze, his eyes dark with emotion. “We're going to make headlines for this, you know.”
Lance smirked, brushing his thumb over Fernando’s bottom lip. “Good. Let them talk. Let them see who you belong to.”
Fernando flushed, leaning in for another kiss, softer this time, the rest of the world forgotten.
Within minutes, the photos were plastered across social media and F1 gossip pages, igniting a firestorm of speculation.
@F1TeaSpill: BREAKING: Lance Stroll and Fernando Alonso caught sharing a passionate moment on Stroll’s yacht in Monaco! Age-gap romance or just teammates bonding a little too closely? 👀
@MotorsportDrama: Lance Stroll, 42, and Fernando Alonso, 24, seem VERY comfortable with each other. New F1 power couple? Or just another Monaco moment gone viral?
The comments section exploded:
���Fernando just bagged himself a billionaire... Get that bag, king 😭”
“Strollonso wasn’t on my 2025 F1 bingo card, but I’m here for it??”
“Wait... 18-year age gap? Fernando was in diapers when Lance joined F1..”
“Not even mad, they’re so hot together. (they'd be hotter with me in the middle)”
Back on the yacht, Lance’s phone buzzed relentlessly as news broke. Fernando glanced at the screen, reading one headline aloud with a smirk. “‘Billionaire Stroll Sweeps Alonso Off His Feet — Literally.’”
Lance groaned, but Fernando just chuckled, leaning back into him. “Let them talk,” Fernando said, tracing lazy circles on Lance’s hand. “Now they know I'm yours.”
And with that, they clinked their glasses together, letting the world buzz on without them.
#my own little yacht fic#but no blowjobs#f1#formula 1#lance stroll#aston martin#ls18#fernando alonso#fa14#strollonso#anon tag???#kats f1 blurbs!
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Source - lhjal2
#gay furry#gay furry pecs#gay furry bulge#gay furry belly#gay furry tiger#artists twitter above#standing under his belly and drinking the combo of water and sweat that drips down#drink my friend you will need the hydration for the blowjobs ahead
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COWBOY!RAFE x FEM!READER
WARNINGS .ᐟ oral (m! receiving), reader is kinda sheltered, mommy issues, parental death, running away from home, getting picked up by a handsome stranger
NOTES .ᐟ this was pretty fun to write tbh. i started this like a year ago and recently found it in my drafts, which led me here, so i hope yall enjoy it as much as i do.
Your worn cowboy boots thudded against the asphalt as you walked down the deserted country road, dragging your suitcase along. The summer sun shone brightly overhead, heating the atmosphere and causing a thin layer of sweat to coat your body. Your daddy's old cowboy hat sat atop your head, shielding your face from the sun's unrelenting, unforgiving rays. A loose white sundress swished softly with every step you took, slowly making your way farther and farther from your old life.
The death of your beloved father sent your already troubled mother into a state of disrepair. You watched as the mother that had sung you soft lullabies and stayed with you until you fell asleep transformed into someone you didn't recognize.
Most nights, you weren't sure where she was or if she was even alive until she inevitably came stumbling home in a drunken stupor through the front door of your little farmhouse in bumfuck nowhere, the screen door slamming behind her and startling you awake.
On the rare occasion that you saw her, she seemed to look through you. Her eyes were sunken with dark circles underneath them that greatly contrasted how bright and full of life they once had been. She was a shell of the woman she once was.
You tried your best to be there for her, but eventually, you realized that she wasn't going to change. She didn't want to get better, and you couldn't force her to.
On your eighteenth birthday, you made a difficult decision. You had been weighing it for a long time, wondering if you were doing the right thing. You wondered if your dad would be disappointed in you, if he would've wanted you to stay, but eventually, you knew that you had to do what was best for you.
You couldn't handle the constant worrying, only to be greeted with a cold shoulder the few times you did see your mother. You felt like you'd never have a life of your own in that house, suffocated by the memories of the happy family that once lived within the walls. You needed to start fresh—to give yourself the opportunity to be something more than a small town drunk like your mom.
You were leaving, and you were never coming back.
And for the first time in a long time, you had something to look forward to. You had a future that didn't revolve around taking care of someone else. You had hope that you could find something better out there, something more than this lonely life you'd grown so accustomed to.
You grabbed an old suitcase from the basement and threw it onto your bed. Opening it, your heart ached as you saw your name written in black sharpie on the light brown fabric. It was written in your father's handwriting, little doodles of stars and hearts surrounding it. For a moment, you had second thoughts about your decision, but ultimately, you pushed them away. you knew he would've wanted you to live a life worth something. He wouldn't want you to be confined to this house, worrying whether your mother would make it home every night.
You packed an assortment of clothing and little items that held sentimental value to you. You knew you had to choose carefully because there was only so much you could bring. Rifling around in your closet, you discovered your father's old cowboy hat. You stuffed it into the way back the day of his funeral, never wanting to see it again, but now, you knew you needed it more than ever.
It served as a reminder of home—not the house you were running away from, but the home that had once been filled with life and love. It reminded you of cold winter nights spent huddled by the fire and spooky stories told during thunderstorms. It reminded you of dancing in the kitchen while the three of you prepared dinner and listening to the rock station with a popsicle in hand as you curiously watched your dad work on his truck. It reminded you of a time before forehead kisses and goodnight stories were replaced by slamming screen doors and absent mothers.
You placed the hat atop your packed suitcase and went to sleep, your plan for tomorrow already set in motion. You woke up before your mother, quickly getting dressed and gathering your things before creeping into the living room. She was nowhere to be seen, probably having actually made it to her bedroom that night, but her purse was laying on the kitchen counter, a couple items spilling out from the way she had haphazardly thrown it when she got home.
Careful to not make any noise, you rummaged through, looking for her wallet. You didn't expect to find much, but you would take what you could get. After stuffing the cash you could find into your bra, so in the event that your suitcase was stolen, you'd still have something to your name, you took one last look around. You admired the height markings your father had made on the doorway, and the hole in the wall that he always swore he'd get around to fixing after bringing in a new couch went terribly wrong. A sad smile graced your face as you said goodbye to the place that had been your only home for as long as you'd known, turning the page and getting ready to embark on your journey to a new life.
Walking through the front door with your suitcase trailing behind you was like a weight had suddenly been lifted from your shoulders. For the first time in a long time, you didn't know what would happen next, and it frightened you in a way that was exhilarating.
The sound of a car approaching made you jump a little, the sound cutting through the quiet atmosphere that had previously only been filled with the light swishing of your dress, the sound of your suitcase wheels and boots on the asphalt, and the occasional chirp of birds. It was rare to encounter people on the deserted road you were traveling down since the area you were in was secluded and a good few miles from any houses or towns, so you knew to be cautious.
You turned your head, tilting the cowboy hat up to get a better look at the approaching vehicle and it's driver. It was an old grey-blue pickup truck with a white roof, a thin layer of dirt and grime built up along the exterior. You squinted your eyes to try and get a better look at the driver as they got closer, but the glare from the sun on the windshield hindered your view.
Hesitantly, you looked away from the truck, your gaze returning forward as you waited for it to pass, but to your surprise, it didn't. You clutched your suitcase tighter as the man pulled up beside you, not stopping completely, just rolling along to keep pace with you.
When the driver rolled the window down, you turned your head to face him, continuing to walk as you studied his face. He was a handsome man; you couldn't deny that. He had bright blue eyes that shone with intrigue, his pale pink lips pulled up into a smirk that had you torn between being deeply unsettled and utterly smitten for him. His brown hair was buzzed short, and he had a bit of stubble on his chiseled jawline along with a mustache on his upper lip—something you usually wouldn't have been privy to, but he made it look effortlessly good.
"What's a pretty little thing like yourself doing out here all alone?" He asked with the faintest hint of a southern drawl, looking you up and down. It should have disgusted you—a random man hitting on you in the middle of nowhere—but for some reason, it made butterflies erupt in your stomach.
You debated on what to say. At first, you were gonna say that your mama always told you not to talk to strangers, but that sounded so childish that you immediately pushed it away. You weren't really great at talking to people. You'd often spent more time alone than with others. You simply shrugged, deciding against saying anything at all and making yourself sound foolish.
His gaze darted to your suitcase, finding himself intrigued and undeterred by your lack of an answer. "Where you headed, sweetheart?" He asked, continuing to drive beside you.
Truthfully, you didn't have a destination. You were just sorta planning to go wherever the wind took you, which admittedly, wasn't a very solid plan. "Anywhere but here," you said cryptically. It sounded a bit cheesy, but it was true. You just wanted to put as much distance between yourself and your childhood home as you possibly could.
His smirk widened into a full-blown grin as he leaned across the seat to throw open the passenger door. "Well, climb on in then. I can take you wherever you'd like to go," he offered, eyes glinting mischievously.
You didn't notice this, however. You weren't all that great at reading people due to your sheltered upbringing. You had gone to school, but it was a small one that you'd dropped out of at sixteen to try and take care of your mother.
You looked over at him, your eyes filled with hesitance as you nervously chewed your lip. You may have been a little naive, but you weren't completely stupid. You knew how unsafe it could be to catch a ride from a stranger. "That's awful kind of you, but... well, I don't think I should."
His demeanor didn't falter, an air of confidence surrounding him—like he was used to getting what he wanted, even if it took a little convincing. "I get it, darlin'," he nodded understandingly. "A pretty thing like you can't be too careful nowadays, but I promise you I ain't gonna hurt ya. Can't say the same for others, though."
Your eyes widened a bit at his words, and for the first time, you seemed to be able to look past your rose-colored glasses. You were a young woman walking alone in the middle of nowhere—an easy and vulnerable target to anyone that could have wanted to hurt you.
"Look, I ain't tryna scare ya," he said, seeming to notice the fear that his words had ignited within you. "But... well, there's a whole lotta bad people out here, sweetheart. I'd hate to go home and find that pretty face on the news or somethin'."
"Well, how do I know that you ain't some serial killer?" You asked, quirking an eyebrow. You stopped walking to face him fully, to which he abruptly stepped on the breaks.
"Serial killers don't usually offer their victim's rides now do they?" He grinned wolfishly, leaning back and draping his arm over the passenger's seat. "I reckon they usually take by force, but I s'pose I wouldn't know since I ain't one."
A frown tugged at your lips, your eyebrows furrowing in thought for a moment. "I guess you're right..." You didn't really know much about serial killers either if you were being honest. Well, not enough to know how they rounded up their victims anyway.
He grinned wider, as if he could tell that you were doubting yourself, and he found it amusing. "So, how 'bout it then? You gonna get in?"
"Promise you ain't gonna like kidnap me or somethin'?" You asked softly, apparently trusting that he would tell the truth.
His grin softened into a warm smile, and he chuckled lowly as he brought his free hand up to place over his chest. "Cross my heart and hope to die."
You nodded, seeming to accept this as an accurate description of his intentions or rather, lack thereof. You picked up your suitcase and put it into his truck bed, all the while he watched you intently, his gaze lingering on the tantalizing view of thigh that your dress provided.
You climbed into the passenger's seat, pulling the cowboy hat off your head and placing it on the dash before closing the door and buckling yourself in. You weren't really sure where this handsome stranger was going to take you, and that's when it dawned on you that you had gotten into his car without even knowing his name.
You looked over at him, finding him already staring intently at you. You offered a shy smile, your fingers playing with the hem of your dress as you softly told him your name.
"Pleasure to meet you," he said, his deep southern drawl causing your name to roll off his tongue with a warmth akin to the way the summer sun had heated your skin. He put the truck in gear, the engine purring as he continued down the desolate highway. "Name's Rafe," he introduced himself, his gaze darting to you.
"The pleasure's all mine Mr. Rafe," you said politely. The man was not that much older than you—maybe two or three years—and thus was probably nowhere near old enough to regard as Mr, but you were taught that it was respectful to do so.
He grinned at the title, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel. "Just Rafe's fine, darlin'," he insisted, casting you a sideways glance, his gaze lingering on your lips as you smiled shyly.
"Okay," you nodded, looking down at your lap as you fiddled with your dress. Rafe was awfully handsome, the hottest guy you'd ever seen by a longshot—not that that was a huge feat—and you found yourself extremely nervous with the fact that you were alone with him.
"So, what are you doin' out here all alone?" He asked, casting you a questioning glance as he took his eyes off the road briefly. "You didn't say earlier." His gaze fell to your lap, watching as your fingertips brushed the edge of your dress repeatedly, the fabric having ridden up due to your sitting position and revealed even more of your soft looking thighs.
You shrugged in response, just as you had earlier. You didn't really know how to explain your situation, and you hardly wanted to trauma dump on someone you barely knew, especially when you'd be in such close quarters for God knows how long. "I'm just... travelin'."
"Travelin'?" He echoed curiously, quirking an eyebrow. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as his gaze dropped to your thighs once more, the fabric of your dress inching up even more as you absentmindedly fiddled with it. He knew he shouldve been focused on the road and not his pretty passenger, but you were making it hard—in more ways than one. "What's got you on the road by yourself?"
"It's a long story," you mumbled, looking up and casting your gaze out the window, watching the scenery blur by as he did 80 on the interstate.
He hummed, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel rhythmically as he looked back at the road. "You runnin' from somethin', sugar?" He asked curiously, your evasive nature leading him to believe that there was more to the story.
You rubbed your sweaty palms on your dress, something your father would have scolded for being unladylike. Your gaze darted to the cowboy hat on the dash as you spoke. "More like runnin' toward somethin'."
"Toward?" He asked curiously. "So, where you headed then?" He prompted, his fingers stilling their movements as he looked over at you again, trying to read your expression.
A smile pulled at your lips as you turned to him, your eyes locking for a moment. "It's more of a... metaphorical somethin'."
His eyebrows raised, intrigued by your cryptic response. Everything about you seemed to intrigue him. You were one big mystery wrapped up in just about the prettiest package he'd ever seen. "Metaphorical, huh?"
"Yknow, you got this tendency to just repeat what I say back to me in question form," you grinned, your tone slightly teasing as you settled more comfortably into conversation with the man. You examined his side profile carefully as he turned back to the road.
"And you got a tendency to talk in circles," he replied with a grin of his own, his eyes flicking back to you briefly before returning to the road. He liked looking at you, even if for a brief moment.
You thought for a moment, deciding that perhaps Rafe deserved a bit of an explanation, given that he was nice enough to give you a ride and all. "I ain't going nowhere specific," you shrugged, your eyes finding the cowboy hat again. "Just... looking for somethin' bigger, somethin' better, I s'pose."
"Bigger and better than what?" He prompted, casting another sideways glance at you. His gaze lingered on the way your lips parted as you spoke, feeling himself twitch in his jeans. He was a man that liked understanding things. He didn't like being on the outside looking in. He wanted to know everything. He was curious; it was in his nature.
"The life I had before," you said, your tone growing solemn, gaze never wavering from the worn cowboy hat as memories flashed before you.
He noted your shift in demeanor and the way you were staring at the hat like you were willing it to turn into something. "What's the deal with that?" He asked, feeling like he needed to know.
"It was my daddy's old hat," you smiled reverently. "He um- he died a couple years back," you explained, clearing your throat and tearing your gaze away to look out the window.
"I'm sorry, sugar," he said sympathetically. He wasn't the best at comforting people, but he wanted to try. He took one hand off the wheel, placing it atop one of yours on your lap, and as much as it was not the time, he couldn't help the way his dick hardened further at the feeling of your soft skin under his rough, calloused hand.
"'s fine," you felt your cheeks warm at the feeling of his large, warm hand on yours. Despite yourself and the topic of conversation, butterflies erupted in your stomach.
He left his hand there, feeling a bit like he was taking advantage of the situation but unable to pull himself away. He liked the way your lips parted and your eyes widened ever so slightly when he touched you. "So you're both runnin' toward and away from somethin' then?"
"Yeah, I s'pose," you nodded. He reluctantly pulled his hand back to the steering wheel, readjusting himself in his seat to find a more comfortable position for his hard-on. You found yourself missing his touch, his skin leaving a lingering sensation on yours.
He was hyper-aware of every little movement and sound you made. The way you shifted in your seat, the little hitch in your breath, the way your thighs pressed together. He swallowed thickly, trying to focus on the road, his jaw clenching as he tried to get a handle on his body's reaction to you.
"So, what about you?" You prompted, glancing over at him. You had told him a bit about yourself and thought it only fair you got some information in return.
"Me?" He asked, his voice a bit gruff. He cleared his throat, trying not to let his gaze wander to the way your dress's neckline dipped, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of your chest. "Well, I'm headin' home. I've been away for a couple months, workin' on a ranch up north." He said, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he continued to drive.
You hummed in acknowledgement. "Did you like it?" You asked awkwardly, not really knowing what else to say. You weren't awfully good at carrying conversations.
"It was alright. Good money, good people, but it ain't home." He said with a small shrug. "'Sides, I got a lot of responsibilities back home. Family 'n all that. Couldn't stay away forever."
You nodded, listening to him explain. You were a little intrigued. You'd never been anywhere outside your home town. You yearned to travel, to see what the world—or at very least the country—had to offer beyond small town gossip and local church services.
He glanced at you, wondering what was going on inside that pretty little head of yours. He wanted to know more about you, wanted to know everything. He wanted to know what you were planning to do now, why you'd actually run from home, what you tasted like, how you'd sound moaning his name, how tight you'd be wrapped around him.
You pondered your next steps during this beat of comfortable silence. You were starving, so food seemed like it needed to be the first stop on this little roadtrip of yours. Then, you figured you'd find a bus stop and hop on the first bus outta town, letting fate decide where to take you.
As you sat there lost in thought, he was watching you intently between bouts of watching the road. He noticed the way your gaze would occasionally drift out the window, the way your hands would fidget with the hem of your dress, the way your lips would purse slightly as you seemed to be debating something in your head.
"You can just drop me at the next town," you finally spoke up, turning to look back at him as you seemed to have made up your mind. A semblance of a plan was better than no plan at all. Besides, what would this new life be without a little of the unknown. You had no idea when you left that morning that you'd run into a handsome cowboy, and that had turned out to be incredibly thrilling for you.
He frowned at the prospect of you leaving him so soon. You'd only just met, but he found himself wanting to spend more time with you. "The next town?" He repeated, echoing your words back to you again like he'd done before. "And, what's the plan when you get there, huh, sweetheart?"
"Gonna catch a bus," you shrugged noncommittally. "Go wherever the wind takes me."
He let out a short, humorless laugh, clearly expressing his disproval for your so-called plan. "You ain't never been nowhere before, have you?" He asked, already knowing the answer. You seemed so innocent, so naive. He couldn't just let you wander off alone, could he?
"Well... no," a small frown tugged at your lips. "But that's kinda the whole point of goin' where the wind takes me," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.
He shook his head, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. "That's a fool-proof way to end up in some real trouble, you know. A pretty little thing like yourself, wanderin' 'round alone. You could end up anywhere, with anyone."
"Well, thus far, I've ended up here, with you," you pointed out with a small smile. "So, I'd say my plan is workin' pretty well so far."
"That's only 'cause I'm a gentleman," he said, his eyes flicking briefly to yours. You couldn't help but wonder what if he wasn't such a gentleman. You weren't completely naive. You knew about sex and had always wondered what it was like, and now, with this incredibly sexy man before you, you found your thoughts particularly impure.
He watched the way your tongue flicked out to wet your lips, the way your breathing picked up ever so slightly. He could practically see the wheels turning in that head of yours. "What're you thinkin' 'bout, sugar?"
"Oh, um, nothin'," you said softly, your body heating up as his voice, so low and husky—definitely not helping your situation—tore you from your thoughts.
"Nothin', huh?" He drawled, not believing you for a second. He had been with enough women to know that look on your face, and he was pretty sure he had a good idea of where your thoughts were headed.
You bit your lip nervously. You knew he had at least some attraction to you because you had eyes. You could see the bulge in his jeans but had done everything you could to resist staring at it, despite the growing urge to reach out and touch it. You wanted to see him, feel him, maybe even taste him, but you were completely out of your depth here.
"You're thinkin' 'bout somethin' that's makin' you bite your lip and press them pretty little thighs together," he said, his voice low and sultry. "So, why don't you just tell me what it is, hmm?"
You looked over at him, your eyes widened a bit at his forward words, also at the fact that he had noticed. Though, it wasn't exactly like you were being discrete. "Wh- I- well, it's not very ladylike," you replied sheepishly.
"Sugar, there ain't nothin' ladylike 'bout the way I'm feelin' right now either," he said, his hand moving from the steering wheel to rest high up on your thigh.
You couldn't help but laugh at his choice of words, looking up at him through your lashes as you tried to find the words. "I don't know how to um- say it." You said, your heart beating nervously in your chest at a speed that doctors would probably find concerning.
"Then show me," he encouraged, his hand slowly inching higher up on your thigh. "You can do that, can't you? Show me what you were thinkin' about?"
You hesitated before nodding. You couldn't believe you were about to give a man you'd just met head for the first time in your life, but your body was moving quicker than your brain, unbuckling your seatbelt. You pulled your legs onto the seat underneath you, kneeling on the worn leather with your body facing him. You looked at him for confirmation before you made another move.
"Atta girl," he praised, his voice husky with desire. His hand moved to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair encouragingly. "Go on, sugar. Show me what that pretty mouth can do." He shifted in his seat, spreading his legs wider to give you better access.
The lack of center console in the old truck was a blessing as your fingers fumbled with his belt. You were already nervous, and you knew you didn't have to tell him that you'd never done this before because it was written all over your face.
He watched with an amused smirk as you struggled with his belt for a moment. He found your inexperience endearing. After a beat, you finally managed to undo his belt, your shaky hands moving to his jeans, popping the button and unzipping them with much more ease.
"That's it, baby. You're doin' just fine," he encouraged, his voice strained with barely contained desire. His hips lifted slightly to help you tug his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his hard cock, the tip flushed and glistening with precum. You took in a sharp breath, your eyes widening a little. You'd seen one before but never in person and never quite that big.
"Wrap your hand around it, sugar," he instructed, his voice low and commanding. His hand tightened in your hair as you wrapped your hand around the base tentatively. "Just like that. Now, stroke it. Nice and slow." You followed his directions, slowly running your hand up and down his hard length, coaxing a low groan from his throat as his hips jumped just a little at the feeling of your soft hand on him.
"Fuck, that feels good," he groaned, his head falling back against the headrest and his grip on the wheel tightening. "Now, put that pretty mouth on me." You wrapped your lips around his hot tip, sucking gently and coaxing his precum onto your tongue.
"Mmmm... That's it, sugar. Just like that," he praised, trying to keep his eyes on the road and the truck in the correct lane. His hand guided your head, his hips gently bucking forward as he slowly pushed himself deeper into your mouth. "You're doin' so good, baby."
Your fingers flexed around the base of his cock, your grip tightening ever so slightly as yoy took more of him into your mouth, your brows furrowing in concentration while you did. "Relax your throat, baby. You can take more of me," he coached gently, his hand tightening in your hair. You did as he said, trying to relax and take more of him into your warm, wet mouth. "That's it, sugar."
The combined sounds of your heavy breathing mingled with the wet noises his cock was making as it slid in and out of your mouth. You gagged a little as the tip of his cock nudged your uvula, triggering your body's built-in safety feature against choking.
He felt you gag and knew he should have pulled you back, reassured you that you could go as slow as you needed to and that there was no need to rush, but shit, you felt so good and seemed so eager; he couldn't bring himself to stop you.
He kept pushing forward, his cock hitting the back of your throat, forcing you to swallow around him. He could feel your throat constricting around his length, and it was the most incredible feeling. You whimpered around him, your nails digging into his thighs and eyes watering, but still, you didn't pull away.
Your little whimper only spurred him on, sending a vibration through him that had him moaning, his grip on your hair bordering on painful. "You're taking it so well, baby," he praised, his voice strained with pleasure. "Shit, I'm so close."
Not long after, his hips jerked forward, and he held you in place, his cock buried in your throat as he came hard with a groan, his hot cum shooting down your throat in thick, salty streams. The unfamiliar taste clung to your tongue, even after you forced the warm liquid down your throat and pulled off of him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
He sat there for a moment, trying to catch his breath and calm his racing heart before he tucked himself back into his pants with one hand, his other keeping the truck steady. "You did so good, sugar. Real good." He murmured, his voice still husky from his orgasm.
You felt a wave of satisfaction roll over you at his praise, but you didn't know exactly what to do from here. Your plans hadn't changed just because you decided to expand your sexual horizons in the front seat of a barely-stranger's truck. Though, it felt a little awkward still asking him to let out you out at the nearest town after what you'd just done.
"We'll be comin' up to the next town soon," he said, as if reading your mind. "How 'bout you let me take you out for a bite to eat, and afterwards, if you still want me to drop you at the bus station, I'll oblige," he proposed, willing to do anything to spend more time with you.
You smiled, nodding. That seemed like a perfectly reasonable request to you. Besides, you had already planned on stopping for food before heading to the bus station anyway. "Okay, that sounds nice," you agreed softly, buckling yourself back in because safety first.
"I know a real good diner in town. They serve the best burgers and milkshakes this side of the Mississippi," he said with a grin, placing his hand back on your thigh, his thumb brushing back and forth across your skin. Your smile widened, stomach doing flips at his touch, and you found yourself thinking that maybe your adventure could wait just a little while if it meant spending more time in the handsome cowboy's presence.
tags .ᐟ @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee /
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#🎀#𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 📖 sol writes .ᐟ#i'll be so fr#i'm a lonely loser virgin so idk shit about blowjobs#cowboy!rafe#cowboy!rafe x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe#rafe x you#rafe smut#outer banks#outer banks smut#obx#obx smut#outer banks fanfiction#obx fanfiction#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe cameron x fem!reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron au#outer banks au#rafe cameron x female reader
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love the subtype of throat rape when he grabs ur head n pushes it down on his cock like he’s masturbating w ur head it makes me sooooo !!!!!!
#what all blowjobs should be tbh#bonus points if u hold my head down on the base till i start panicking n trying 2 pull off but u keep me there#bonus bonus points if i’m covered in my own drool n tears by the time ur finished
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I need to be working on my comic right now so I'm handing him over to you guys to get him out of my way. Love this animal. The Beef Jerky. The Beetle Juice. The Billie Jean. The Anything Youwant.
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#diversity win! the private equity investor who gives shitty blowjobs also kept kendall roy from being ceo by being gay!#this being the actual canon ending to one of the most prestigious television dramas ever is... so funny#stewy hosseini#shiv roy#succession#kendall roy#kenstewy
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whenever i think abt misha saying he didn't start playing cas as in love with dean until s15 i am like. that man is a Known liar who lies
#looking at those endverse gifs i just reblogged and. thee absolute fondness in cas's eyes when he looks at 2009 dean#like hello that (former) angel is literally in love#also thee fact that he was meant to say 'i LOVE past you' in that scene but they changed it............#but also just. so many scenes over the course of 12 yrs. he was in love !!!#and misha was Aware mr. i-read-destiel-blowjob-fic-after-my-first-episode#he knew what he was doing. for 12 yrs.#vic.txt
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━ stress relief (not really) ,, that's not my neighbor
requested by: – pairing(s): francis "milkman" mosses x male reader word count: 2503 warnings: cursing, monster fucking, blowjob a/n: joining the bandwagon on save the cow, milk the milkman teehee
switching from 3rd pov to 2nd pov for you tumblr gremlins
Looking at the ID and entry request that was pushed into the hatch, you took the bottom folder as you opened the page to flip through to the correct file and make sure the numbers were right on the ID of the individual in front of you. Also sent a quick glance at the list of people who should have been out and saw that yes... he was out.
Honestly, you have been doing this for months now. Miraculously surviving and not letting any doppelgangers in the building. Getting an employee of the month award for doing better than another doorman (Henry) and surviving. You were used to this job already and knew the tenants well even outside of your work hours, but it wasn't wrong to just double-check like always.
That's how you survived after all.
As you looked at the file and read through it, mentally listing the numbers down, a pain went through your head as you let out a hiss.
"You alright?" Looking at the security window, outside the clear glass, the Milkman's (or also known as Francis Mosses) tired eyes looked at you in worry as he tilted his head, a frown on his lips as he looked. You only nodded as you sent Francis a forced smile, not wanting to show any problem with anything. Having to work as a doorman, you should be calm and professional while not showing any weakness unless you want the doppelgangers to use that to their advantage.
"Yeah, it's nothing," You said as you looked back at the ID and file, sighing a bit in relief as you looked at the numbers. Clear. It wasn't a doppelganger... well... sparring a glance at the security window again, you squinted and the Milkman outside and he looked normal... no imperfections whatsoever from what you remembered... so it wouldn't hurt to answer Francis, right? The worried look on the Milkman's face was not one you wanted to see. "Just a headache, that's all."
"Oh... stress?" You let out a snort as you heard that. What else were there? When the lives of multiple people in this building and your own is in the hands of one single individual... one wrong mistake would lead to the whole building being painted in red. With innocent lives slaughtered by a doppelganger that was just unknowingly let in... who else wouldn't be stressed? The D.D.D. didn't give any training prior to this other than an old tape that you had to watch as you were plopped down into the job. It was truly a miracle you survived this after your first shift. No wonder almost 99.99% of the doormans die.
"You know how it is," You shrugged as you put back the folder in its place. Double-checking your checklist and the files you got one last time, you nodded in approval as you sent Francis a smile. "Well, yer all clear," You said as you reached out to unlock the door. Francis nodded in thanks as he disappeared to come in.
You let out a sigh as you locked the door when you made sure Francis came in, you then slouched in your chair. Closing your eyes as you raised a hand and rubbed your forehead to ease the growing pain you were feeling. God, you would love to get a fucking day off one of these days but unfortunately, there is no rest for the wicked... and that means no rest for the doorman as well.
"Are you really alright?" You let out a surprised yelp when you felt someone grabbed your shoulder from behind. You only calmed down when turned around to see it was just Francis who looked at you in worry. "You look stressed."
"Jesus, Francis," You breathed out as you sent out a glare while putting a hand over your heart, breathing in and out as you calmed yourself down. "You scared the shit outta me."
"Sorry," Francis said. "Just worried about you." He added as he squeezed your shoulder gently. Your glare softened after that. You and Francis had been... awkward to say the least. Not after Francis had one day went down on his knees to suck on your dick as you worked. To "relieve stress" and a "thank you" as Francis had said. You were haunted by the happenings of that day. With how the tired Milkman you have been seeing for months just on his knees, underneath your desk and shyly unbuckling your belt and pulling down your pants to suck you off. It was a pretty sight...
Unfortunately, before things got more heated, a doppelganger appeared in the security window to ruin things... which you knew was a doppelganger very well due to... well, it was very awkward when that doppelganger was pretending to be the very Milkman that was milking your dick at that very moment already. Long story short, the D.D.D. was called and both you and Francis (the real one) didn't do anything other than that. It had been awkward ever since as neither of you two talked things out.
"I'm fine, no need to worry," You said, patting Francis' hand on your shoulder as you sent the man a tired smile. "Just a headache like I said... it'll pass."
Francis let out a hum, his tired eyes looking at you as he thought for a moment and then smiled. "Stress, right? How about I help you with that?"
It was like what happened before. Francis was on his knees, tucked comfortably underneath the desk as he was in between your legs. His tired eyes were half-lidded as he focused on the bulge in front of him. Something in his eyes that you can't put a finger to it. Not like you would focus on that when Francis' hands went to grab your inner thighs, rubbing it gently as it seemed like he didn't know what to do before he leaned forward and mouthed at your cock through your pants.
Softly groaning at the sight, you leaned back in your chair as you just watched Francis keep this up for a bit until he was done with the tease to then unbuckle your belt and unzip your pants to pull it down. Nuzzling at the bulge on your underwear as Francis breathed in and softly moaned.
"Taking your time?" You can't help but asked, you weren't really complaining as either way you were getting a blowjob here by the tired yet handsome Milkman. Taking the hat off and putting it on your desk, you ran your fingers through Francis' short brown hair as the man let out a keen noise at your actions. "I don't mind... but someone may arrive soon and you wouldn't want anyone to see you like this, right, Mosses?"
Francis hummed as he looked at you, eyes shining. "Can't I admire you?" He asked as he nuzzled his face back at the bulge, taking a deep inhale as he dug his nails into your inner thighs. "I want to savour this..."
An amused huff left your lips as you stared down at Francis. Something about this man was being affectionate right now and sure, maybe you didn't know Francis Mosses that well as you both had only done this once before and it was even cut short before you could come in that warm mouth of the Milkman but it was rather cute. You didn't expect Francis to have a side like this... unfortunately, you remembered what happened last time as well.
"Well, if we continue with this pace, we might get caught," You said as you pet Francis' head, pausing for a second as you continued. "You can admire later... if you want, we can continue this after my shift..." Hesitant, you were, but you finally said it. And you hoped that if Francis agreed, you both could talk about... you two as well.
"Hm, yes," Francis murmured as he finally pulled down your underwear.
Francis inched closer to your thick cock, gulping the saliva that was produced in his mouth as he stared wide eyes at it. The hand that gripped on his hair brought him back from his thoughts as Francis mumbled a quiet sorry as he then grabbed your dick with his hand. Stroking the shaft as Francis looked up for a moment to see you watching him. You nodded at him and that gave Francis the courage as he leaned close and pressed a soft kiss on the tip, smearing pre-cum on his lips that Francis immediately licked. A pleased hum left his lips as he continued on. Pressing another kiss as he then sucks on the tip, tasting more of your seed. It didn't take long before Francis got down on the cock, swallowing it down in his throat so eagerly.
Francis did have a little bit of trouble as you were rather big and he barely even have any experience of how to take a cock with his mouth, but that didn't stop him. He eagerly descended down huge dick and Francis can't help but moan as he felt the way your cock twitched on his throat. He was even more pleased with himself when he heard you moaning and praising he was doing better than last time.
Francis squeezed your thighs at that last comment with his other hand that wasn't on your dick as he tried to get used to such a large thing inside his mouth, but after a while, Francis slowly bobbed his head up and down on your cock. Softly moaning at times as clumsily sucked.
"Use your hands," Francis heard you say. It took a moment but once he realized what you meant, the hands that stopped their stroking earlier were now back with their movements again, stroking the part where he couldn't fit in his mouth. "That's it."
You can't help but grab a fistful of Francis' short brown hair as you guided the man to suck you more better. Francis was very clumsy and clueless at this like last time... even more clumsy than before honestly but it was fine as the Milkman made up for being very eager. You didn't miss the occasional glances Francis throw your way as he sucked on your cock. It was very cute. Especially when you would give the man praise after catching his eyes, it only makes Francis more eager to suck on your dick more. Truly adorable.
Francis pulls back and gave a kiss on the tip of your cock before sucking and flicking his tongue on the slit, making sure to catch your eyes as he did. Francis knows what he was doing now from what you can tell. It seemed like the man had grown brave after some time on sucking your dick. A loud, deep growl escaped from your lips as you watched Francis take your cock back in his mouth. Fucking tease.
"This is your fault," you grunted as you grabbed a fistful of Francis' hair. You planned to punish Francis for this. Pulling Francis a little bit away from your dick, the Milkman was confused as he whined a little until you pushed his head all the way down. Francis let out a noise akin to choking as he gagged a little at your cock, tears in his eyes. Francis' body shook as his eyes rolled back. Dry cumming from just that. And you realize what just happened.
Shit. That was hot.
"Suck," You commanded and Francis complied, seemingly not mentally present as he did. Francis continued to go down your cock until it hits the sensitive spot in the back of his throat, moaning immediately.
Grabbing the sides of Francis' head, you decided to take matters to your own as you fucked your cock down the Milkman's throat. Using Francis' warm mouth as your own fleshlight and it seemed like Francis didn't mind. Just letting you be as Francis would eagerly suck on your cock.
It didn't take long until you reached your peak as you breathed heavily. Feeling Francis' throat tightened around your cock, you can't help but shove Francis' head down again while you came. Spilling your load down Francis' throat who didn't have a choice but took it. Not like Francis wouldn't have it any other way anyway.
You slumped in yout chair as you let go of Francis' head, breathing heavily as you looked down at the Milkman and was surprised that Francis never break away from your dick. Instead, Francis caught your eyes as the man gave you a grin while your cock was still in his mouth. You were truly surprised. It seemed like Francis had swallowed your cum but you expected Francis to break away and catch his breath, maybe spit out your cum but no... was this the same Francis who had trouble with sucking your dick earlier, right?
You shake your head and decided to just focus on looking at the man who's still on your cock. Taking the time to admire the pretty sight of Francis as you ran your fingers through Francis' short hair, wiping the sweat on Francis' forehead— did Francis always have a mole there?
A cold shiver suddenly spread throughout your body as you looked at the mole on the right side of Francis' forehead. You didn't notice it before as it was hidden from sight with the hat and Francis' short brown hair but... Francis must have, right?
You didn't pay mind to Francis slowly bobbing his head up and down your dick again as you tried to remember if you ever saw Francis had a mole there from the last time the Milkman had sucked you off. That day was hazy for you as you had to deal with Francis literally sucking you off and then deal with a doppelganger that looked like the same man that was sucking you off underneath the desk and then calling the D.D.D. to clean up the imposter...
Yeah... Francis must have a mole, right? You just didn't notice it before. Yeah, that was righ—
"[Name]?"
You froze as you looked at the security window... the individual that was on the other side of the glass window had an all-familiar white attire, "Milkman" on their hat, and tired eyes that looked at you in worry. Similar. So fucking similar.
"You alright?"
Fuck.
The individual outside was none other than the Milkman, Francis Mosses.
"Problem, dear?" You looked down at your legs and you felt your heart drop at seeing the "Francis" that was kneeling in front of you give you a smug smile, your cock still on his— it's lips. "Francis'" hand gripped at your inner thighs, the nails looked more like claws to your mind now as you felt your body shudder. Those tired eyes looked at you with sick amusement. "You looked stressed."
Fuck indeed.
#top male reader#⌦。.:* ━ c;francis mosses#⌦。.:* ━ f;that's not my neighbor#⌦。.:* ━ w;blowjob#⌦。.:* ━ w;monster fucking#: ̗̀➛ ❛ . . . tou works! ❜#: ̗̀➛ ❛ . . . bitch thirsting! ❜
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eating it sloppy style <3
#god imagine how loud the blowjobs must be#happy webgott wednesday#it's actually a little bit concerning how i mark the days by unofficial hbo war holidays#band of brothers#joe liebgott#david webster#webgott
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DRUNK GIRLFRIEND
Word Count: 1.3K
Pairing(s): Rafe x Reader
Warnings: Drinking, Blowjob
Summary: Reader is a funny/horny drunk
When you and Rafe entered the party, you were immediately greeted by a whirlwind of activity. To your left, groups of friends gathered around makeshift beer pong tables, their laughter and friendly banter filling the air. To your right, the heart of the room pulsed with the rhythmic movements of dancers lost in the music, their bodies swaying in sync with the pulsating beats.
"What do you want to drink?" Rafe asked, his arm wrapping around your waist as the vibrant pulse of the party surrounded you both. "Something with lemonade in it, please," you replied, leaning in to kiss his lips softly, a smile dancing on your own.
Together, you navigated through the lively throngs of guests, making your way to the kitchen where the air was thick with the scent of alcohol and excitement. As you entered, you were greeted by the sight of Topper and Sarah engaged in a spirited round of shots.
"Y/n! You're here!" Sarah's voice rang out above the din, her excitement palpable as she rushed over to envelop you in a warm hug, her laughter echoing in the bustling room.
"Yes, I'm here, and you're drunk," you playfully teased, gently pointing out Sarah's tipsy state as she pulled you closer to the shots with a grin plastered on her face. With a laugh, she shrugged off your observation, her enthusiasm undiminished as she handed out the shots.
"Two shots to start the night," Sarah declared, passing two to you and two to Rafe, who met your gaze with a mischievous smirk. Without hesitation, he downed both shots in rapid succession, his expression unfazed by the fiery burn of the tequila. Inspired by his boldness, you followed suit, the sharp taste of the alcohol leaving a lingering warmth in your chest.
"Still don't like tequila," you admitted with a wince, pushing the empty shot glasses back towards Sarah as Rafe draped an arm over your shoulders, his touch sending a shiver of warmth down your spine.
With a tender kiss pressed to your cheek, he whispered, "Let's dance, babe," his voice a gentle invitation as he led you away from the crowded kitchen and into the heart of the dance floor.
As the infectious beat of "Despacito" filled the air, you melted into Rafe's embrace, your arms winding around his neck as you buried your face into the crook of his neck. With playful abandon, you peppered his skin with soft kisses, the heat of your breath mingling with the faint scent of his cologne.
His hands roamed your body with a confident touch, guiding your hips as you danced in sync. The sensation of his body against yours sent a shiver of pleasure coursing through you, with each grind of your hips against his, you could feel him hardening under you.
As he trailed his hand from your ass to your neck, his touch sending sparks of arousal racing down to your core, you couldn't help but smile against his lips.
"I feel so refreshed when I put my lips on you… you're like an ice-cold drink on a hot summer's day," you murmured, your words laced with playful affection as you deepened the kiss, your tongue intertwining with his in a fight for dominance.
He chuckled softly against your lips, the sound vibrating through you like a gentle caress. Pulling away slightly, he captured your lower lip between his teeth, teasing it gently before releasing it with a playful nip. "You're so funny when you're drunk," he laughed, his eyes sparkling with warmth and adoration as he gazed down at you.
After a few hours of dancing, Rafe made his way towards a cluster of chairs where his friends were gathered. With a contented smile, he sank into the seat, his body pleasantly buzzing from the euphoria of the night.
As they shared anecdotes and laughter, time seemed to slip away, the moments melting into one another in a blissful haze of camaraderie. However, amidst the easy banter of his companions, Rafe's attention was suddenly drawn to a murmur rippling through the crowd.
Curious, he pushed through the people, his pulse quickening with anticipation as he caught wind of whispers suggesting that his girlfriend was on the verge of taking her bra off.
With a mixture of amusement and concern, Rafe pushed through the sea of bodies until he caught sight of the scene unfolding before him.
There, atop the pool table, his girlfriend danced with carefree abandon, her movements sexy and suggestive as she twirled and spun, her laughter ringing out like a melody in the crowded room. Despite the flicker of amusement that danced in his eyes, Rafe knew he couldn't let the situation escalate any further.
"Y/n, come down from there," Rafe called out, his tone firm yet laced with affection as he approached the pool table. However, his request was met with a playful protest as his girlfriend insisted she was having fun and urged him to join her.
With a fond shake of his head, Rafe gently but firmly lifted her off the pool table, her protests melting into laughter as he swung her over his shoulder. As she tugged at his shirt, her fingers travelled down his toned body, sending a spark of desire within her, Rafe couldn't help but chuckle at her playful antics.
With a soft sigh, he carried her away from the crowd, the sounds of the party fading into the background as he pushed open the bathroom door, as he gently set her down.
Their eyes met in a silent exchange “Did you like my dancing?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of playfulness as her hands slid up to rest on his biceps. Her touch sent a shiver of desire racing down his spine, igniting a flicker of longing within him as he gazed down at her.
With a tender smile, Rafe brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek with gentle reverence. "I always love watching you dance," he confessed, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity. "But right now, all I want is you.”
As Rafe closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you. Your bodies melted into each other, the heat of his touch sending shivers racing down your spine, you found yourself trailing your hands down to his belt.
You undid the buckle, your fingers fumbling slightly in your haste as the belt loosened beneath your touch, you slid it out of the loop. Eager to suck his cock, you grasped his cock and started pumping him.
Rafe unclipped your bra with one hand, and you took it off, while making your way down to your knees. His veiny cock staring at you in the face, you stuck out your tongue out and licked a long stripe from top to bottom. “Don’t tease me” he said coming to play with your breast, kneading your nipple between his fingers.
You take him into your mouth, bobbing your head making his cock reach the back of your throat, “taking me so well baby” he encouraged.
You paid most of your attention to his tip sucking and slurping on him, he threw his head back in pleasure. You could tell he was close when he started to swell inside your mouth.
You bobbed harder and he came in your mouth, feeling hot cum ropes hit the back of your throat, you took him out of your mouth and placed his cock between your breasts, milking the rest of him until he emptied out.
“Fuck thats so hot baby” he moans out. He grabs her my her waist hoisting her up, liking his release clean from her.
“Your turn baby!!”
Taglist:
@anonymouscameron @ilovethekookprince @rafecameronsgirfriend
#rafe cameron#outer banks#rafe obx#rafe mf cameron#rafe x reader#obx#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#rafe!blowjob#rafe cameron blurb#drunk!reader x rafe#rafe imagine#rafe fanfiction#lets fuck rafe forever#outerbanks rafe#rafe outer banks
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todoroki shouto the only man 2d or otherwise who deserves a blowjob
#vic look away#saw the post about blowjobs being so unappealing and i swear i agree#but also all of my principles fly out of the door when shouto enters 😭#just thinking about those low soft groans and the strong cord of his throat with his head thrown back#the flex of his stomach as he pants and the strain of his muscle as he tries not to thrust forward#the way his long pretty fingers grip your jaw; gentle but flexing like he desperately wants to take a tighter hold—#🫠🫠🫠
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im tired of blowjobs and handjobs, it’s time to get weird
where’s my fic of nuzzling against bokuto’s cock through his shorts after a game until he cums against ur cheek like a big loser
#it’s time to get WEIRD.#˗ˏˋ ★ from lunnie .ᐟ#im also not tired of blowjobs and handjobs#I can never get tired of it
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