#i’m so fucking unhappy rn

[crystalbeastsquidney]

Girl what the fuck did they do to Raiden they turned my man into a fucking twunk 😭😭😭

[starbuck]

definitely feeling overdramatic right now, but i am SO overwhelmed from the stress of that trip and everything that happened before it and everything i have going on between now and the end of the year, that i would like to not interact with a single nother person for two weeks minimum.

[strawberryrhubarbs]

god I am acting bleak on main tonight

[binders-and-beanies]

Doin bad again folx

[jimmyandthegiraffes]

Absolutely weeping over a 60s tv show nobody else cares about

[cherubemojie]

started the yr signed off from work due to having a meltdown from everything that’s been going on and with my boyfriend doing a total disappearing act out of nowhere so this is fun 🫠

[steviescrystals]

ignore this post i’m just whining again

[tellie-vision-art]

…

[softspiderling]

illicit affairs - part six | r.c

summary:

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to talk to you.”

The tone in Rafe’s voice made you pause and you felt your stomach drop. This was it. Rafe found out about your feelings for him and he was about to tell you how he didn’t feel the same.

“Rafe-”

“Can you let me say what I want to say first?”

OR; Your parents are gone for the weekend and you have the house to yourself. Mostly.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: none, I think

word count: 3k

author's note: wait.... this is kinda crazy, but don't hate me for this please. Also i'm genuinely so tired rn, falling asleep as i type this... happy reading!!! <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

pt. six: "you'll be flushed when you return"

You were sitting at the bottom of the stairs at your house, watching your parents pack the last of their things into their bags. They were headed to Charleston over the weekend, running the last errands before the Spring Fling the following week.

“Do you have your wallet and phone?” your mother asked your father as she closed the flap of her purse, checking her reflection in the mirror.

“Yes dear.”

Your father tossed his laptop into his bag, zipping it up before straightening his back, glancing over to you.

“Are you sure you don’t want Kelly to come over the weekend? It’s still not too late to call her in.”

“I’m good, dad,” you assured him. “Kelly should take the weekend off, it’s such a waste to have her for the whole weekend just incase I want a home cooked meal. I’ll probably just go out to eat.”

“Okay then,” your father said with a nod. “We’ll probably be back Sunday night, behave yourself.”

“Bye honey!” your mother called over her shoulder, exiting the house. Your father was hot on her heels, but just before he closed the door, he paused, turning back to you.

“And don’t you dare throw a party while we’re gone,” your father said, wagging a finger for good measure because apparently you were a child in the 80s being scolded by your parents. You resisted an eye roll, because they still had enough time to make you to come along on the trip, so you only nodded, like a good daughter.

“I won’t dad, don’t worry,” you sighed, leaning your chin on your hand. “I’m just going to hang out with my friends.”

Your father gave a curt nod, bidding you goodbye before he left, shutting the front door behind him. Shortly after you could hear the engine from their car start, before the sound of the engine slowly quietened down as it left the estate.

“Finally,” you sighed to yourself, padding back upstairs feeling like your stress had just left with your parents. It was a sunny day out and you wanted to use that time to get some tanning done. As you fished a bikini out of your drawer, you had half a mind to text your friends to come over, hang out by the pool. But that meant facing Rafe.

Ever since the nightly swim during the boneyard party, the ache in your chest that you felt whenever Rafe was around had started to feel more present, as opposed to dull. But you had promised yourself (and Rafe) that this wouldn’t get between your friendship. Tugging the bikini top over your chest, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, unhappy with yourself.

“Fuck it,” you muttered to yourself. Grabbing your sunglasses, some sunblock and your phone, you headed back downstairs, sending a text into your groupchat.

precious [04/05/24: 2:37 pm]: i’m out by the pool if anyone’s down to join

precious [04/05/24: 2:37 pm]: bring food tho

Sliding the door closed behind you as you stepped out to the patio, you headed for your designated sun chair, dropping your stuff on the small side table. You planted your ass on the chair, slathered the sun block on your body, because you very much did not want to look like the hamburgers Topper tried to grill and as you spread the sun block on your arms, your phone buzzed.

top [04/05/24: 2:40 pm]: stuck at the court house with my mom rn, i’ll text when i’m otw

kelce [04/05/24: 2:41 pm]: i’ll be over later

No reply from Rafe, though.

With an eyeroll, you turned your phone, screen side down and made yourself comfortable on the chair, feeling your skin warm up from the sunrays. You heard your phone buzz again, but you were too lazy to reach for it, shutting your eyes, a comfortable silence settling over your patio. Before you knew it, you dozed off, limbs growing tired in the sun.

“Hey precious…. You really invite people over to hang out just to be asleep when I get here?”

….

“Precious.”

You let out a small noise, squeezing your eye shut, a frown on your forehead. The voice quietened, and you nearly slipped back into your slumber, when you felt fingertips dancing on your exposed stomach. The touch was featherlight, but it broke through your unconsciousness, your eyes fluttering open.

Rafe was perched on the edge of the sun chair, his palm resting on your hip. His mouth was curled in a smirk and you were already annoyed with him.

“I was having such a good nap,” you huffed, rolling your shoulders a little, before you arched your back, waking yourself up a little.

“You’re not being a very good host,” Rafe replied, all the while his eyes not leaving your chest, which admittedly, was your goal.

“You haven’t been a guest at my house since you were 14.”

Leaning on your elbows, you sat up to look at him, unimpressed.

“Where are the others?”

“Told them not to come,” Rafe said, his thumb tracing circles into your skin, but you only narrowed your eyes at him.

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to talk to you.”

The tone in Rafe’s voice made you pause and you felt your stomach drop. This was it. Rafe found out about your feelings for him and he was about to tell you how he didn’t feel the same.

“Rafe-”

“Can you let me say what I want to say first?”

You exhaled deeply, sighing, and buried yourself deeper in the sun chair. Rafe watched you intently for a second, removing his hand off your waist to run it through his hair.

“When I suggested we do this casual sex thing, I was mostly doing it out of comfort. I hated hooking up with those random girls who were always so insanely clingy after, and you were right there: my best friend, who’s also kinda crazy hot and understands me without having to say a single word.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you turned away to hide the flush on your cheeks, but Rafe stopped you, turning your chin to face him again.

“Will you look at me while I’m talking to you?”

You lifted your eyes to meet his, and nearly died at his undivided attention on you. After making sure, that you weren’t going to turn away again, Rafe dropped his hand, carefully reaching for yours.

“The past few days I have been struggling, feeling restless, and I couldn’t tell why, until I realized….” Rafe paused, taking a deep breath. “I love you, precious.”

Your eyes widened at the confession, your mouth agape. “I…. What?”

“I know this sounds insane and I really really hope you feel the same way, because otherwise this is gonna get real awkward,” Rafe chuckled dryly, and you shook your head quickly.

“Rafe,” you started. “You know I’m in love with you, right?”

“You are?”

“Yes!”

Rafe beamed at you, pulling you in closely, and the weight on your shoulders disappeared when your lips touched his. Even though you have kissed so many times, this kiss felt… Different. He pulled away, hand gently caressing your cheek and you sighed softly, thinking of how to break this to Kelce and Topper.

“What are you thinking about?” Rafe asked, raising a brow at you. “Precious?”

Your eyes narrowed at the sudden increase of volume,, his voice his voice seeming so much louder than before. You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“Precious, hello?”

With a gasp, you startled awake, your heart racing when you saw Rafe standing over your sun chair, his brows furrowed over his sun glasses.

“What?” you breathed out, swallowing thickly, trying to calm yourself down.

“Shit, are you okay?”

Rafe pushed his sun glasses up, his forehead creased in concern and you nodded, taking a deep breath.

It was just a dream.

“Yeah, sorry, you just startled me,” you assured him, grasping at your chest. You could barely look at Rafe, the dream was still replaying in your head, it seemed so real. Rubbing your face with your hand, you swung your legs off the sun chair, peering up at Rafe, hand coming up to shield your eyes from the sun.

“When did you get here?”

“Not that long ago,” Rafe replied, eyeing you suspiciously. “You sure you alright?”

You rolled your eyes at him, shoving his bicep. “Yes, dad.”

Rafe smirked, and you knew exactly what he was going to say next.

“I think you meant-”

“I know what I meant, you perv.”

Your hand reached out to whack him, but his reflexes were faster, his fingers slipping around your wrist to stop you. With a quick tug, he pulled you towards him, sending you crashing against his chest. You glared up at him, but your cheeks were flushed. If he asked, you’d blame it on the sun.

“Why aren’t we hanging out at your pool more often?”

Rafe played with the small strings of your bikini bottoms on your waist, a smirk ever present on his lips.

“Because you always get bored hanging around doing nothing,” you reminded him. He clicked his tongue, his eyes zeroing in on the valley between your breasts.

“I wouldn’t be bored if you wore this bikini every time, fuck.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “God, have you always been this horny or is it just since we started fucking?”

Before Rafe could answer, a crash sounded from inside the house followed by some cursing. Your head turned towards the sound before you looked back to him.

“Top and Kelce are here already?”

“Yeah, we came together,” Rafe said, as if it was obvious, but you only let out a sigh, pushing away from him to head into the house. As you got into the kitchen, you saw Topper and Kelce tinkering around in the kitchen.

“Hey boys.”

“Precious, hey,” Kelce greeted you, shoving a bag of ice on the counter to give you a half hug.

“What are we making?”

“I was thinking frozen daiquiris,” Topper said, heaving the mixer on the counter with a grin, before smacking a kiss on your cheek. “Hey. We were starting to think Rafe got lost out there.”

“Oh no. He was too distracted by my boobs.”

Topper paused to glance over to you, his eyes quickly flying over your chest, before giving a brief nod.

“Understandable.”

“Yeah, I don’t even like boobs and yours look good in that bikini,” Kelce chimed in. Rafe only gave you a look that said I told you so as he rounded the kitchen island.

“And you’re calling me a perv,” Rafe miffed, emptying the bag of mangoes. Together, the four of you managed to make a big batch of frozen mango daiquiris, tossed together the salad the boys got from Whole Foods and prepped the steak for grilling in-between bickering.

Sipping on your drink, you carried out the salads out to the patio, while Topper got the grill going, with Rafe breathing down his neck, because he paid good money for the steaks and he wasn’t about to let Topper grill it to death. Kelce was setting the table when you put the salad bowl down, a beer bottle in his hand as he laid out the cutlery. You eyed him carefully, thinking back to his text.

“Hey, what were you doing before you came over?”

Kelce’s hand stilled over the fork, and he decidedly didn’t lift his head, staring at the napkins. “I was at the golf course.”

He was being cagey, and his answer didn’t really satisfy you, especially because you knew how he Kelce hated golf. Whenever Top and Rafe went golfing, you and Kelce either went for ice cream or to the beach or hung out in a golf caddy, making fun of Top and Rafe. Kelce would never willingly go on on the green.

“…. What were you doing at the golf course?”

Kelce hesitated before he answered, taking a deliberately took another long sip of his beer, and you narrowed your eyes at him before he finally gave in.

“Malcolm asked me if I wanted to play a few rounds of golf with him.”

Your mouth dropped open, half in shock, half in excitement. “Wait, really?”

Kelce nodded, his mouth curling up in a small grin.

“Yeah, Just the two of us.”

“Kels, that’s great,” you told him, pausing as you thought his words over. “Wait. Was this just you hanging out, or was it a date?”

“… He didn’t say date.”

You sighed and Kelce shook his head, frowning.

“Don’t look at me like that. You know this shit isn’t easy, for neither of us.”

“I know Kels,” you said, voice soft. “But I just don’t want you to get hurt again if Malcolm is scared of things getting real and throws himself at another girl.”

Kelce shrugged with his shoulders, like he didn’t really care, but you rounded the table to lean your head on his shoulder. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes and you were content to just stand there with him, watching as Rafe and Topper fought over the grill.

“What about you?” Kelce suddenly asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t heard anything about boys from you recently.”

Your eyes lingered on Rafe as he snatched the tongs out of Topper’s hand, and you bit back a smile. “Oh. No one’s caught my eye recently,” you lied and Kelce, sighed.

“You’re lucky, crushing on someone is so stressful. It is not what it used to be.”

If only he knew.

“Alright, steaks will be done in a few minutes!” Rafe called over from the grill and you nudged Kelce.

“Come on, let’s get the rest of the table settled.”

The four of you spent a rather chill day out at your pool. After a great steak dinner, with the steaks grilled to perfection (”I told you that it was the perfect time to take them off the grill Top, sometimes you just gotta listen to your gut.”) you got buzzed off of the frozen daiquiris and even went into the pool a few times. Before you knew it, the night broke in and it got too chilly, so you started clearing everything away, carrying the dirty dishes into the kitchen.

“Man, staying out in the sun all day really knocked me the fuck out,” Kelce said, yawning into his shoulder as he put the rest of the salad into the fridge.

“Yeah, we’re getting old,” Rafe agreed with him, and Topper side eyed him,

“Who’s we? You’re two years older than us.”

Rafe smacked Topper’s head upside down and you snickered to yourself as you dried off the mixer. Rafe moved to open the dishwasher, but you waved him off.

“Leave it, I can do it in the morning.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow at you. “You sure, precious?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“A’ight.”

Rafe yawned into his fist and the boys started to collect their things. You were taken aback, having expected Rafe to find an excuse to stay back, maybe even stay the night. You did have the whole house to yourself, and it seemed like he didn’t even care.

Tossing the dish towel on the counter, you walked the boys to the door, leaning against the door frame as you hugged them good bye.

“Alright, guys. See you tomorrow. Thanks for dinner.”

The boys waved, one by one getting into the car, and you crossed your arms as you stared at Rafe through the tinted window of Topper’s car as you stood on your front porch. As Topper’s car pulled off your grounds, you headed back inside with a sigh, shutting the door behind you.

You were tempted to go to sleep right away, but the amount of dishes in the kitchen was taunting you. In all honesty, you’d have appreciated a little help from the boys, you only turned down their offers because you thought that was what Rafe wanted you to say. On one hand, you really didn’t feel like cleaning up, on the other hand, you didn’t want Kelly to feel obligated to clean your shit up when she came back on Monday. So cleaning up it was. You put the dried off mixer away, and started rinsing the plates and cutlery. You cleared the last of the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, yawning into your elbow. Kelce was right, the sun shining down on you really had made you super tired. You yearned for your bed and for some rest, and sleep was near as you put in the last plate into the dishwasher. Just as you were about to shut the dishwasher and start the program, the hairs on the nape of your neck rose when you heard the sliding door to the patio open in the otherwise quiet house.

Fuck.

Didn’t you lock the door?

Your heart was in your throat, and you grabbed the nearest weapon you could find - a rolling pin - as you snuck into the hallway. There was no way that someone broke into your house, right? It was just your imagination?

You half expected to see nothing as you rounded the corner, the noise just being a figment of your tired self, but you froze when you heard steps come towards you so when you stepped out from behind the wall, you swung the rolling pin as quick as possible, hoping to knock the intruder out before he could do any harm.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: wait omg my first actual cliffhanger in this series

[libingan]

—escapism.

cw: cheating, age gaps, ooc simon because this was kind of rushed sorry babes, erm ig emotional neglect ??? idk how to tag warnings JSJDWJSJW

a/n: not my best work, but like, im having writer’s block rn so i just wrote the first thing that came to mind because i feel like i need to post something for yall HAAHAHAHAHA

as always, part two depends on how much this fic eats

you could feel the tension crackling in the air as you and your boyfriend faced off in your cramped living room. the argument had started small—another forgotten dinner, a dismissive comment—but it quickly escalated into a full-blown fight. his words were sharp, and his eyes, once warm, were cold and distant.

“you never fucking listen!” you yelled, your voice raw with frustration. “i’ve been trying to get you to notice me for months, but you’re always too busy with your own shit!”

he scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. “i’m tired of your whining. what do you want me to do, huh? i work hard and all you do is complain!”

“i want you to care!” you snapped back, feeling the sting of betrayal. “i want you to actually touch me, to know what i need, not just what you think you know!”

he threw his hands up in exasperation, his face hardening. “fine! if you’re so unhappy, maybe you should just leave!”

his words cut deeper than any physical blow could have. you felt a surge of anger and hurt. “maybe i fucking will!” you shouted, grabbing your coat and storming out, the door slamming behind you with a deafening bang. the sound echoed in the empty hallway as you rushed to your own place.

in the dimly lit sanctuary of your apartment, you stared at yourself in the mirror, your reflection a mixture of rage and sadness. determined to reclaim some control over your life, you pulled out your most daring outfit—something that made you feel powerful and fierce. the tight, low-cut dress hugged your curves, and the bold makeup accentuated your defiance.

you headed to a bar, a place where anonymity and distraction offered some solace. the bar was loud and crowded, but you walked in with a purposeful stride. you ordered a strong drink and let the warmth of the alcohol begin to soothe your frayed nerves. it wasn’t long before you felt the eyes of others on you, their gazes filled with various levels of interest.

that’s when you noticed him—the man staring right at you. he was seated alone at the far end of the bar, his rugged features partially obscured by a black surgical mask. despite the mask, there was something compelling about him. he seemed a lot older, but his presence was commanding and intriguing. his gaze was intense, even if you couldn’t see his expressions clearly.

you found yourself drawn to him, not just by his looks but by the way he seemed to command the space around him. you hesitated for a moment, then made your way over, the alcohol giving you just enough courage.

the man looked up from his drink as you approached, his gaze piercing yet inviting. “evening,” he greeted, his voice a gravelly whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. "rough night?"

you signal the bartender to bring you another shot before turning to the man, an exhausted expression plastered onto your face. "you have no idea."

the bartender arrived with your drink, setting it down in front of you. before he could leave, the man next to you gestured to him with a firm yet polite command. "put the lady's drink on my tab," he said, his voice carrying a hint of mystery. a slight smile played on his lips as he glanced at you, his eyes intense and unreadable. the bartender nodded and moved on, leaving you feeling a mix of surprise and curiosity about this intriguing stranger.

"simon riley," he introduced himself with a nod. you offered your name in return, extending your hand for a handshake. he gladly took it, lifting his mask just enough to expose his lips before planting a gentle kiss on the back of your hand.

"i have a boyfriend," you stated. simon chuckled in response, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "not a very good one if you're out here, no?"

you hesitated for a moment, but simon's easy confidence made it hard to stay reserved. as the conversation flowed, you found yourself laughing and sharing stories, your initial wariness melting away. there was an undeniable chemistry between you, a connection that felt natural and effortless.

simon had a way of making you feel seen and heard, his attention unwavering as he listened to you speak. he shared glimpses of his own life, his stories filled with adventure and depth. with each passing moment, you felt more alive, the weight of your earlier frustrations lifting.

you couldn't remember the last time you felt this way with your boyfriend. the spark, the excitement, the genuine interest—it had all been missing for so long. being with simon reminded you of what it felt like to be truly connected with someone, to feel that electric thrill of mutual attraction.

as the evening wore on and the alcohol worked its magic, you found yourself relaxing. after a few more drinks, the liquid courage made you more open. simon’s patient listening and calming presence encouraged you to open up.

as the night deepened and the bar's ambiance grew more intimate, you found yourself opening up to simon in a way you hadn't with anyone in a long time.

"my boyfriend... he's been so emotionally distant lately," you admitted, swirling your drink as you gathered your thoughts. "he's not as loving as he used to be. it's like he's more focused on his own world, and i'm just an afterthought."

simon listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours. "that sounds tough," he said softly. "you deserve to feel loved and appreciated."

you nodded, grateful for his understanding. "it's been hard. sometimes, it feels like i'm invisible to him. we haven't been intimate in what feels like forever. i almost feel like a virgin again because it's been so long since we last had sex."

simon raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity and concern in his gaze. "that must be really frustrating."

"it is," you sighed. "and the last time we did... he couldn't even find the clit. it was awkward and disappointing. it made me feel like he doesn't really care about my needs."

simon’s eyes remained locked on you, his presence steady and unyielding. “that sounds incredibly frustrating. it’s like he’s stopped making an effort to connect with you.”

“exactly!” you exclaimed, frustration spilling out. “it’s like he’s not even trying. i feel invisible, and he doesn’t even care. it’s like i’m just a roommate or something.”

simon’s voice was low and soothing. “you deserve more than that. it’s clear you’re looking for someone who actually cares and pays attention to what you need.”

simon leaned in closer, his presence radiating warmth and intensity. his hand, firm yet gentle, rested on your thigh, sending a shiver up your spine. “you know,” he said softly, his voice carrying a seductive edge, “i’d like to get to know you better. i can’t stand seeing you so unhappy.”

his fingers traced a light, deliberate path on your skin, the touch both comforting and thrilling. “why don’t you come home with me tonight? we can talk more, and I’d love to help you thryou hesitated, feeling a mix of curiosity and caution. “i don’t know, simon. you’re clearly older than me, and we’ve just met. it feels a bit... risky.”

simon’s gaze remained steady, his hand still gently resting on your thigh. “how old are you?” he asked, his voice calm and composed.

“i’m 27,” you replied.

“27,” simon repeated, his tone neutral. “you’re pushing thirty, not some freshly eighteen little girl. you’re a grown woman who can make her own decisions.” he paused briefly. “could show you a good time, love, make you feel things your little boy toy can't. i'm only 42, you know. is that too old for you?"

you thought to yourself that yes, it might be too old, but right now? with the hurt and desperation for someone who would actually treat you right? you found yourself saying, “no, it’s not too old. yes, I’d like that.”

that's how you ended up in simon's apartment bedroom, naked and lost in the throes of pleasure.

simon's got you on your back, legs hooked over his shoulders, his head buried in between your thighs, mouth working overtime against your dripping cunt. he keeps his gaze on you the entire time, watching your expression contort in pleasure as he parts your lips with his thumb, pressing the pad of his tongue against your sensitive clit, swiping the muscle side to side. you let out a soft moan, hands tangled in simon's dirty blonde locks, pushing his head down further.

"fuck-! just like that, please, feels so good..." you mewl, causing him to groan, his own hips rutting against the sheets, staining the fabric with his pre as he greedily sucked on your sensitive, pulsating nub.

you missed this. this overwhelming feeling of pleasure that hinders your thinking, preventing any coherent thought from entering your mind. you couldn't think, see, nor feeling anything aside from the heat pooling deep inside of you. if simon could unravel you this much with his mouth, how much more damage would he be able to do with his cock?

the thought alone was enough to send you over the edge, but just as you were about to let the feeling override your senses, simon pulls back and sat up, the lower half of his face covered in your arousal, a slick sheen coating his lips and his chin. "fuckin' delicious," he grunts, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

you let out a needy whine at that, lightly kicking simon for edging you. "you're an ass..." you grumbled, to which the older man responds to with an amused chuckle. "won't be sayin' that when i fuck you with this thing." he says, grabbing his thick cock and resting it on your belly. you gawk in awe at his size, swallowing the lump in your throat. how the hell were you going to fit that inside?

"it'll fit." simon mutters, as if reading your mind.

he reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing the small condom packet next to his lamp. he rips off the foil with his teeth, hurriedly slipping it on to his dick. simon's hands grip your hips, pulling you closer to him. he grabs his cock with one hand, dragging it up your slit, rubbing the fat head against your clit a couple of times before positioning himself against your entrance. "ready?"

"hurryyy...' you whine.

slowly, simon began to sink his girth into your pussy, stretching you out with his fat cock to a point where pain collided with the pleasure. you clutched onto his arm, a shuddering breath escaping you.

"that's it, love," he said, voice raspy and strained as he inched further inside of you, "good girl, taking me so well... just a little more, okay?"

you nod. it's all you could bring yourself to do as simon finally bottomed out. he lets out a grunt, gently rocking his hips into you. he kept a steady rhythm, taking his time with each thrust. the slow, agonizing pace drove you wild, especially after he denied you an orgasm just a few minutes prior.

"bloody fuckin' hell..." simon groans, inhaling sharply as your walls hugged snugly around his cock. "not gonna last long if you're this tight, love," he whispers, burying his face into the crook of your neck, nipping at your skin. a desperate whimper escapes your lips, legs wrapping around simon's waist as you complain about his pace. "faster, please... i can't, it's not enough..."

simon simpers, pulling back just enough to leave the tip inside before slamming back into your warm cunt, ripping out a loud moan from your mouth. "that what you want, love?" he asks smugly.

"fuck yes—again! fuck, do it again, please!"

who was simon to deny such a pretty litte thing?

his thrusts begin to accelerate, slamming into you frantically, driving his cock in and out of your tight, wet heat. "fuck, si—ah, shit!" you whimpered, eyes watering with each pound.

simon's hand reaches down, rubbing his thumb against your clit in circles. "does your boyfriend fuck you this good?" he growled, reveling in the way you seemed to tighten up around him at the question. "fucking answer." he demanded, delivering a single hard thrust, causing his tip to kiss your cervix. you cried out at the intensity, shaking your head, sputtering out incomprehensible words with each slam of his cock into your pussy. "gotta him bring him over then. show him how to treat a pretty little girl like you."

simon's previously rhythmic thrusts were now eratic, hips slapping into yours haphazardly, his hand beginning to ache with each circle of his thumb on your nub.

it didn't take long until you were finally teetering over the egde. you threw your head back, "simon, i'm almost—SIMON!"

with a loud cry and a final roll of simon's hips, you both reached your peak. simon let out a strained groan, releasing into the condom. he leaned forward, sighing, and rested his forehead against your shoulder blade.

for a few seconds, you lay in motionless silence, the sound of your shaky breaths filling the space as you both tried to regain your composure.

“jesus christ,” simon eventually groaned, pressing a brief kiss to your shoulder. “you felt amazing.” he then gently eased himself out of you and rolled onto his side, lying next to you. “your boyfriend’s really missin’ out,” he added.

as you lay there, your eyes flickered to your phone, which had been buzzing non-stop. simon noticed your distracted glance and asked, “boyfriend?”

before you could respond, he reached over, snatching the phone from your hand. with a decisive motion, he placed it back on his nightstand, out of reach. he turned back to you, pulling you closer with a firm, yet gentle embrace.

“let’s not think about him,” he said, his voice low and inviting. “tonight’s about you and me.” he nuzzled closer, his touch warm and insistent. “how about we see if we can make this night even better?”

with that, he guided you back into his arms, ready for round two, the promise of a deeper connection hanging in the air. as the night unfolded, the two of you lost yourselves in each other, making love with a renewed sense of passion and intimacy.

meanwhile, your phone continued to buzz with missed calls and texts from your boyfriend, each notification a reminder of the unresolved tension. but for tonight, you chose to ignore it all, focusing instead on the moment with simon and savoring the connection and pleasure that had been so absent. after all, wasn't it his idea for you to leave?

[mikolovesracing]

i’m gonna rant. and if youre gonna come and comment on this post saying rude shit you can fuck right off with that bc im not having it. reconnect.

———

i can’t fathom what today did to lando.

his deflection of compliments from lewis hamilton in the max verstappen podcast room was heartbreaking. ik it looked like he was being an asshole and yeah! yk what, he probably was! but if you just had your second win pulled from you on a VERY PUBLIC STAGE, wouldn’t you be too?

and yes i understand that he under cut oscar im not saying that was right. dont get me twisted rn.

but can yall fucking stop with the lando norris hate club please? its such bullshit! i hate seeing it! forget hes an f1 driver and remember hes a person? that has real feelings? and real emotions???

he was used today! go back and listen to the team call of them emotionally manipulating him. its fucked!!!!

not only that but lando is incredibly hard on himself. lando truly is his own worst enemy. this man will beat himself up over anything, he cannot accept that he is worthy of celebrating himself and it kills me because i know what that feels like.

it hurts to see.

i know hes hurting.

he was hurt by his team.

fucked over by strategy.

and he still has to have happiness for oscar because he is a good person at heart and he has said that he can be more of a dick, yall forget how fucking nice he is. he puts effort into others and celebrates his friends and he is a good person at heart. yall are making him out to be this spoiled bitch brat and saying horrible things and im over it. ik zak brown treats him like he hung the moon and stars. and ik that oscar piastri DOES NOT get the same recognition. but that doesnt mean we get to come on the internet and whine and bitch that he was even slightly rude to lewis hamilton and that he didn’t seem pleased about p2

NEWSFLASH: he fucking wasn’t!!!!! oscar racec better than lando today, yes. but their team dangled a carrot in front of lando and took it away. they spoiled what could have been a great celebration for both drivers.

think about the sportsmanship he had today when he let oscar through. he could have easily said fuck you strategists, i’m in the lead.

so no! he didn’t want to! would you?????

he had to give up a win.

and please dont take this like im unhappy for oscar i am thrilled for his maiden win.

but even in oscars voice.

he isn’t celebrating himself either.

because mclaren hurt both of their drivers today. not just one over the other.

it feels wrong to be happy and sad simultaneously for a mclaren one two.

but neither of them seemed thrilled today.

not even oscar.

i think they have the power, they have the car, they have the drivers

put into perspective for a minute how cohesive of a team oscar and lando are, they work together closely and they have the opportunity to make big plays with big results! they respect one another and they have good chemistry and they listen to one another and they give each other a leg up.

its bittersweet.

but proceed with kindness in your words and hearts. celebrate oscar like theres no tomorrow(i am!) but equally treat people with respect. including lando.

thank you.

[carniferous]

okay hello i’ve come to offer a vague concept ❤️🤲 the first thing that came into my mind is like being in a car. and something being wrong w the car. which sounds so stupid but is hopefully vague enough?? also idk if i’m meant to specify a ship but (and you probs already know what i’m gonna say) ur bartylus genuinely changed my life and it’s always on my mind and im obsessed w it forever and ever and would die if you ever wrote them again (but also like. no pressure. i don’t wanna try and tie you down to one specific pathway) ANYWAY i hope this is vague enough but also not too vague that you’re just staring at me blankly rn… icl babe u really didn’t set any parameters so i’m kinda trying to spear fish in the dark here but im gonna stop talking now…. eagerly (but patiently!!) awaiting ur response <33

LMAO NOOO thank you so much this is exactly the level of vagueness i wanted!!! i simply need to let things cook in my beautiful mind palace before i can write + vague concepts work best for that

anyway i tried to do it justice for u. it's more barty character study than bartylus sorry but. also it's compeltely unedited!! do with that what you will xoxo

“I knew it,” Regulus murmured, a hand coming up to cover his eyes. He was slumped down in his seat, the lines of his face stark in the pale moonlight. The motorway stretched out empty and endless before them. 

Barty clenched his jaw and turned the key in the ignition once more. The engine sputtered loudly, just enough to give him some small shred of hope, before it promptly died for the fifth time. 

“Dammit,” he hissed, thumping his hand against the steering wheel. He turned to Regulus, “What?”

Regulus lowered his hand and glared fiercely. “I knew I was going to die in this metal box the moment you persuaded me to get in.”

“And yet, you still let me persuade you.”

“Barty.”

“What?” Barty grinned. “You’re not going to die, Regulus. Cars are only dangerous when they’re moving.”

Regulus scoffed. He looked about five minutes away from having a conniption—which meant that Barty had about three minutes of continuing to fuck with him before he got properly angry. His hands were clenched in the fabric of his trousers, and when he turned his face towards the window, Barty could glimpse the deep shadows under his eyes as they appeared under the light. 

He felt his heart soften, just a tad. 

“I have a plan,” Barty said.

Regulus rolled his eyes so far back that they disappeared into his skull: “Oh, joy. Another plan.”

“They’ve gotten us this far, haven’t they?” 

“Yes, stranded on the side of the road with you,” muttered Regulus. “Exactly where I want all my plans to lead me.”

At that, Barty felt a strange, wild sort of affection swell up within him. He wanted to lean over and bite the nape of Regulus’s neck hard enough to draw blood, wanted to crowd him against the door until all that bluster and exasperation fell away. But there would be time for that.

“Don’t you want to hear my plan?”

“No,” Regulus said sullenly. “I want—”

He stopped. Barty’s grin abruptly fell away. He reached over and cradled the back of Regulus’s head, firmly enough that he had no choice but to face him. Regulus kept his eyes downcast, an unhappy twist to his mouth, a sickly tinge to his face that the low light couldn’t hide. 

“Hey,” Barty said, and he curled his hand into a fist in Regulus’s hair. “Look at me.”

Regulus’s gaze flickered up.

He was a living bruise, a walking heartache. Two weeks ago, Barty had looked at him as they packed their things for the end of term, and he’d known that Regulus wouldn’t survive another summer in that house—not as himself, anyway. He knew it the way Sirius must have, before he left, and he understood. Better than he’d like to admit. Sometimes it was easier to pack your bags than to watch someone like Regulus tread water and insist that they weren’t moments away from sinking. 

In that respect, though, Barty was different. He didn’t care what Regulus wanted. He wasn’t going to leave him to drown. 

Besides. Barty was fed up, himself.

When he spoke, his voice was low and steady, and Regulus listened with wide, unblinking eyes: “We’re not going home. Do you understand? There’s nothing back there. Nothing. Forget it, Regulus.”

A beat of silence. Barty’s grip loosened, he made to pull back, and then—

“What about your mother?” Regulus asked with a horrible little glint in his gaze. 

“What about her?” Barty replied without missing a beat.

Regulus blinked. Barty almost laughed at him. Could have, at the idea that Regulus thought he’d trapped him with that. His mother, who’d wanted Berty out of that house perhaps even more than he himself did. Regulus could never understand that.

What he could understand, though, was the terrifying, exhilarating sensation of freedom. Of the surprising vastness of your own mind when it was vacant of everyone but yourself. Of sitting in a car stranded on the side of the road and becoming aware of your own mortality. Death was suddenly an end to something real and full of potential. 

After what felt like an eternity, Regulus asked, “What’s your plan?”

“I turn seventeen in five hours,” Barty said. “Once midnight hits, the Trace will disappear. I’ll fix the car then.”

“You don’t know how to fix it.”

“At least I know it’s called a car and not a ‘metal box.’”

“You want us to spend five hours in this thing?” Regulus said, as though catching up with his own disbelief.

“Technically, seven hours,” said Barty. “We still have to make it to Bath. And then, once we pick up the twins…”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Barty shrugged—a loose, slouching thing. He noticed Regulus’s eyes track the motion with nothing short of predatory glee. “Orgy in the metal box?”

“I hate you.”

“You love me,” Barry cajoled, grinning from ear to ear. “Why else would you run away with me?”

There was a long moment of silence, in which Regulus gazed, baleful and petulant, out at the road in front of them and Barty gazed at him. Already, he was more animated, more tetchy, more acerbic than he’d been just days ago. The cobwebs slowly clearing from his eyes.

Sometimes, Barty recognized Regulus like the slant of himself in a shard of glass. But other times, Regulus was just very beautiful. Barty wondered if there an element of vanity in wanting him, to the prideful joy he got out of fucking him out of his own head. The idea that he could press Regulus down hard enough to mold him back into himself. 

On very rare occasions, he wondered if he was like his father. If the only love he knew was what he learned from the voice in his head as it puppeted his limbs about. If that presence was more himself than he was. A normal person would look at it with revulsion, would see complete and total control as a firsthand abomination.

But it was because Barty knew the abomination firsthand that he knew also the complete, total, clean satisfaction of such control.

“You were hardly the first to ask,” Regulus said mildly.

Even in the darkness, Barty could see the flush travel down his neck. He grinned and, without another word, reached over and unhooked Regulus’s seatbelt.

“I didn’t ask,” he replied, just as mild.

[ailurophile-rebecca]

Anon who sent the long ask earlier :) hope ur doing ok rn and that you have a good day

Help why are people still hating on you? fuck them it's your blog, you're allowed to dislike people and do what you want, ESPECIALLY because it's fucking jirai kei a community where we should be allowed to be petty and shallow and jealous

"there's a reason why jiraiblr hates you" and then it's just normal fucking jirai behavior :/

I am (or used to be) friends with someone you hate but when they complained about your behavior I was like "...uh??? me too? isn't that just normal jirai things?" like, I understand getting defensive when someone dislikes you but... they were the one who reached out? and you weren't rude about it either you were just saying you disliked them, you didn't tell them to die or anything like that??? I'm sensitive AF to criticism/dislike, so I would probably be unhappy too, but considering your reasons (which are all relatable jirai-culture reasons!!! idk if I'm phrasing this right but ahhh it's just fucking. jirai reasons?!!!) hating you for jirai behavior is stupid... ugh can you tell I've been pissed over this for a while lol

you're literally staying on your own page and venting there and not harassing others, idk why people are complaining when THEY reach out and ask for an explanation... and get one LIKE BITCH YOU ASKED?!!! on your own blog you should be allowed to post "problematic" + "mean" thoughts (AGAIN, GETTING HATE FOR THIS IN THE FUCKING JIRAI COMMUNITY IS CRAZY) and when other people reach out to you, KNOWING YOU DISLIKE THEM, what the fuck do they expect? "oh thanks for asking me why I hate you, I suddenly love everyone now!!!"

people that don't like this blog, GET THE FUCK OUT instead of sending rude asks, those are the people going out of their way to send rude things. they should do what you're doing and vent on their own fucking pages instead of reaching out to you just to send rude things.

stick to your own fucking circles, rude anons!!!

(❄ anon)

So I’m thinking ❄️anon, we should get like married and then like I wear a pretty dress, but it’s not legal marriage, we just have a wedding.

Now you pretty much explained it very well so I’ll put this in the landmine tag..

This is pretty much what I thought too when I got that anon

I’m not really respected anywhere or have a place to vent to people.

Like I never went and bothered others, they can just scroll past my account.

I don’t like anyone, and they are proving why. They don’t listen to me and they don’t care to understand anything about me.

I just said an opinion and they despise me and send me hate for it

I get this isn’t a safe space, but why so mad? It’s not like I went to their accounts and complained.

I’m doing like…pretty good. I didn’t cry in school today so yay!

[safetycar-restart]

okay so all i can think about rn for corruption kink is like poly!vr46 like you and bezz teaching the omegas on how to get through their heats if you guys for some reason can’t be there. like you’re all curled up in the nest and one of the pups just starts grinding against you because he needs help and he’s just so horny and wants his alpha to fix it and make it better.

corruption kink also lowkey fits sub!oscar like he’s just so subby and doesn’t know what to do and he just wants his dom to help him but she’s far away for some reason so he facetimes her and is like help meeeeeee. so she teaches him how over the phone?

i don’t know it’s all just kinda brain rot atm but have a good day!

🔙🦴anon

Listen if this is your idea of brainrot then please continue because oh my god this is great. I’m gonna discuss each of these ideas, because of course.

POLY!VR46:

(For context, this is an au we discuss sometimes where Bez and reader are alphas and the rest of the academy are all omegas. You start off just dating Bez but slowly you and Bez kinda become the joint alphas for the entire academy)

So firstly, Bez would be SO into the idea of corrupting his cute omega pack mates. He LOVES wrecking them, isnt finished with them until they’re covered in cum and unable to remember their own names. So corruption kink? Absolutely.

I think it starts off pretty organically? Like you don’t plan it, but one day you and Bez are cuddling with Cele and discussing when Cele’s next heat is. You both realise that while you’ll try your best to get there, there’s a genuine chance Cele might have to spend the first day or two on his own.

And he is NOT pleased with this at all. Especially not because just the week before you and Bez had tagged teamed and fucked Pecco silly during his heat. Cele wants the same!!!

You try to reassure him that you’ll be there as soon as you can and remind him that he can look after himself. Bez pipes up then, telling Cele he can use dildos on himself and make himself cum over and over again.

Which of course gets Cele a little riled up and then suddenly you’ve got a whiney, pouty omega grinding against you and asking what he must do to himself. And Bez, the master of dirty talk, is more than happy to educate Cele on the things he can do, whispering absolute filth into his ear. While he does this, you move your hands to Cele’s hips and start directing his grinding, basically making him hump your thigh.

The poor thing leave a little puddle of slick on your thigh when he cums.

(And then a few days later you have all the other omegas demanding the same attention because they heard what you and Bez did to Cele)

SUB!OSCAR:

Yeah he’s such a subby baby!! He gets into this headspace where he just feels completely useless and dumb? And then even though he’s rock hard and more than capable of jerking himself off, he can’t!!! He’s too subby for that, all he can do it whine and huff and spam message you until you give in and FaceTime him.

The moment he answers, you’re greeted by a very pouty Oscar. His hair is a mess and his lips are bright red from how he’s been biting them.

When you ask what’s wrong, he just mumbles “help me” and then unceremoniously flips the camera so you can see the bulge in his boxers. You get it then, he’s all subby and very unhappy there’s no one around to play with his cock.

You tell him that you’ll help him, that he can make himself feel good if he just listens to you. At first he’s uncertain, not liking the idea of doing any of it himself but you promise him that he just needs to listen to you, he won’t have to think at all.

You ‘teach’ him how to hump a pillow, which is something you’ve had him do so many times before but you know he’d get all whiney and unhappy if you didn’t give him precise instructions and act like he’s never done this before.

He sounds so shocked when he tries and it feels good? He babbles on and on about how good it feels and thanks you for showing him and promises he’s being a good boy.

(Arguably good boys don’t spam you until you call them and then show you their cock unprompted but oh well, at least he’s cute)

[transandamess]

i’m so unhappy rn someone please fuck all of the dysphoria out of me :(

[patrochillesvibes]

O and I have an other question how do you think Achilles will react once he finds out about the fact that Patroclus had slept Deidameia. Because I do believe Patroclus haven’t to Achilles about it .

<3 <3 <3

Ah, the single plot point in TSoA I disagree with.

🎵How do you solve a problem like Pyrrhus🎶

So if we’re all gonna suck Homer’s dick, then let’s all get on the same page that Deidamia isn’t in the Iliad. Or the Odyssey. You also gotta be careful with any source material mentioning Deidamia as most of this content was part of a smear campaign by the Italians coughDantecough.

Pyrrhus is such a random character if you think about it. Achilles was not married, otherwise Agamemnon wouldn’t keep trying to get him to marry his seemingly endless supply of daughters. Pyrrhus isn’t labeled as a bastard, but what else could he be? Achilles would’ve had to have knocked up some chick.

And isn’t it strange that Achilles would do this? I don’t want to say it’s not in character, but it seems strange compared to his prophecy-focused life. (Also, Patroclus and Achilles don’t have little bastards running around the camp, so do we really believe they’re fucking the slaves? If they’re fucking the slaves, where are the babies? Birth control and abortions were not that good in 1250 BCE. But I’m getting super off topic now.)

This is why I personally believe Achilles found a random baby, adopted it, and had Mother feed him ambrosia.

I’m very passionate about ^this headcanon of mine.

Now back to TSoA…

First off, remember that Patroclus is a LIAR. He is not just full of bologna, he’s made out of bologna. He wants us to believe he’s a feminist? Anti-war? A doctor? Achilles is perfect? Patroclus PLEASE!

But you have to respect the lies because TSoA is essentially an autobiography and lying is like the first law of autobiography writing.

I’d also like to point out the clever literary trick at the end of TSoA. The book ends with Patroclus and Thetis chatting about Achilles. She says “Speak, then” to get Patroclus to share his memories. Thus, the book is not so much an account of his life, but essentially all the memories he had to share with her. He wants to show her how glorious her son was, the side she never got to see, the human nature she shunned, Achilles’ mortality. So of course he’s going to highlight the good, even enhance it as well as downplay or even lie about the bad.

But back to your question…

What happened at Skyros? Patroclus wants us to believe a lot of non-con was going on. I low-key have a very messed up theory about what actually happened and why it happened, but I don’t want to get into it rn a blogger on here might be unhappy bcs of a related ask I coincidentally just sent them. So for simplicity's sake, let’s assume that the non-con did indeed happen. I think he told Achilles a half-truth. Something to the effect of mentioning having comforted Deidamia and given her an official farewell (of the husbandly kind) on his behalf. He used a lot of double-meaning words to allow Achilles to interpret as he pleased.

And how did he interpret what Patroclus told him? First he was relieved that he would not have to deal with her again. Then he was his usual dumb blonde self (Patroclus calls this 'trusting', Pat pls) and took the words at face value. And I wouldn't blame him for it. When traumatic things happen to you, you do what you can to cope.

And please don’t take this as victim blaming or non-con denial, but the last lines of Chapter 13 never sat quite right with me.

Sorry to keep harping on the lying. Part of me thinks the scene with Deidamia was either a hallucination-false memory sequence to reinforce that patrochilles is 2-bodies-1-soul -what happens to Achilles happens to Pat; and part of me thinks this was Pat’s sly way of showing Thetis how she hurt Achilles by enabling the non-con. Sadly, we'll never know the truth, so it's up to you what you want to believe.

I hope this rambling rant answered your question. Thank you for the ask! I LOVE LOVE LOVE The Song of Achilles and am capable of ranting and raving about it for hours at a time 😘