Ok But He’s So Lame Bc Why NOT Just The Tip

uhmm not to add to ur torture but art does this after patrick finishes inside of u

https://x.com/yul_erotica/status/1567267102502912001?s=46&t=7TmegSCVL2oWlJID6RaplQ

sorry if this is too gross bye ily

this is not too gross at all. link (twt porn link, MDNI 18+)

i absolutely agree w u. i think that with art, it takes him a second to warm up to the idea of cleaning you up like this, but once he does, he's all in. however, this rlly speaks to me as patrick cleaning you up after art cums in you.

patrick is nastier, less restrained with his displays of desire. you and art have both called him gross with the biggest smiles on your faces, so he's leaned into it by now. that's who he is, the Gross One. he takes on the characteristic whenever he gently nudges art out from between your legs while he's trying to calm down. you're in the same boat as art, eyes focused on the ceiling and blinking slowly. and then you feel him, his presence and warmth between your legs.

"patrick," you warn, not even looking at him as you shake your head. patrick just protests in a whisper.

"'m just gonna help you out. clean you up a little, okay?" and then his head is between your legs and he's absolutely brutal with it. he adds to your stimulation instead of takes away from it.

when art has done it in the past, he was gentle. you knew what to expect from art, you knew he would swipe his fingers through the leaking cum and bring it to his lips. he would work his tongue in wide, long stripes, maximized space to minimize the time.

but when patrick does it, it's like he's giving you head. after a minute or so, when you get that wanton feeling low in your gut, you figure he is giving you head.

Leliana Dress

mid length dress with animalistic prints

V 1 is with bra and v2 without

all LODs, HQ textures, bgc, custom thumbnails,

dl early access patreon💗

in game preivew ⬇️

“Have you got my- you know you can’t just wear my clothes, right?” with fanon!rafe please

warnings: alludes to sex, nudity!

the sound of the lawnmower outside woke you from your sleep. you scrunched your nose at the sound, knowing you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again and that you would have to get up. you weren’t quite sure why ward insisted on having the grass cut so early in the morning, well, ok, ten isn’t that early. but you were sure you and rafe weren’t the only ones in the house still asleep.

one opening of your eyes tells you that your boyfriend is still sound asleep and you smile softly at just how peaceful and pretty he looks. when he’s awake he’s always stressed and usually a little angry or frustrated. but right now, with the morning sun shining dimly through the white curtain across his face, you’d think he’d never had a single problem in his life.

a door slammed from downstairs and you sighed, knowing you should probably get up. wheezie always asked you to play games or watch movies with her on saturday mornings when you were there and you knew today would be no different. you also knew that you’d rather find her first than have her come in rafe’s room and find the both of you barely clothed. so you carefully lifted yourself from rafe’s hold on your waist, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as the sheets left you bare to the cold air of the room. you quickly tiptoed to his dresser and pulled out some clothes before making your way into the en-suite bathroom for a quick shower.

the hot water felt nice as it trailed over your skin and you let you body relax for a few moments under it. a sigh escaped your lips before you quietly hummed the song stuck on your mind and reached for the shampoo. rafe used to be one of those guys who used dove three in one but after your first horrendous shower at his house he switched to something both of you could use. you were in the middle of rinsing the soap from your hair wen you heard a light knock on the door. you heard it open before you even had the chance to respond and rafe gruff morning voice broke through the otherwise silent room.

“have you seen my-“ he went silent and just as you were about to pull back the curtain and see what was wrong, he was pulling it back for you. “you know you can’t wear only my clothes right?” he held in one hand the clothes you had picked out to put on after your shower- his shirt, a pair of his sweats, and even a pair of his boxers. unaffected by the whole situation, and the fact that he was still standing in front of you naked, you reached for the conditioner.

“and why do you believe that mr. cameron?”

“why do i- because they’re mine!” you rolled your eyes, finally looking back to him for the first time since he ripped open the shower curtain.

“ok, well, it was my virginity but you took that.” rafe’s jaw dropped and a small smirk appeared on your lips.

“i- you- what?”

“you heard me. now are you going to leave me alone and get dressed or are you going to join me?” you watched as he blinked a few times, obviously still trying to process the question. “rafe!”

i’ll join. i’ll join.” he threw the handful of clothing toward the counter behind him and stepped into the tub with you, finally closing the shower curtain behind him.

“you only get to join if you’re gonna let me wear your clothes,” you smiled. rafe sighed and shook his head but then shrugged.

“well, i’m already here. might as well stay.” you handed him the shampoo with a smile and a small kiss.

“good choice.”

summer road trip with luke castellan (16+, implied sex)

it starts with a promise.

made late at night, in the kind of hazy space between sleep and dreaming, when the world feels quiet and nothing’s quite real yet. you’re lying side by side on a roof somewhere—one of those abandoned places luke likes to sneak into. the stars are barely visible, city lights bleeding up into the sky, but you’re not really looking at the stars anyway.

“we should do it,” he says, breathless from laughter after a dumb joke he barely managed to get out. “just take off one day. no plans. no schedules. just you, me, and the open road.”

you laugh into the sleeve of your hoodie. “okay, cowboy.”

“i’m serious.” he props himself up on his elbows. “we’ll make playlists. stay in janky motels. get gas station snacks that’ll probably kill us. it’ll be perfect.”

you hum, eyes fluttering shut. “we’re always saying ‘one day.’ you ever think about making it this day?”

he doesn’t say anything for a long second.

then, “i’ll steal a car.”

you snort. “please don’t steal a car.”

“fine. borrow one.” he nudges your arm. “c’mon. you know you want this.”

you do. gods, you really do.

and maybe that’s why two weeks later you’re throwing a duffel bag in the backseat of an old car luke somehow managed to “legally” obtain (you don’t ask too many questions), a worn paper map stuffed into the glove compartment, and three half-charged burner phones just in case.

you don’t even pick a destination. that’s the point.

it’s about the drive.

the first few days are the best kind of disorganized. you get hopelessly turned around trying to get out of the city, miss your turn like, four times, and end up on some weird detour through a town that seems stuck in the 1950s. you eat breakfast-for-dinner at a diner with cracked red booths and a waitress who calls you both “sweethearts.” luke leaves a doodle on a napkin and tucks it into the jukebox.

the road stretches ahead like a ribbon of possibility, glittering under the sun. the heat blurs the horizon, making everything shimmer like a mirage, and the sky is that kind of obnoxiously perfect blue that feels more like a postcard than real life.

the a.c. in the car gave up somewhere around three days ago, so the windows are rolled down, warm air rushing in and tangling your hair, sticking your shirt to your back. it doesn’t help much, but it’s better than nothing.

you've got one foot propped on the dash and a half-melted slushie wedged into the cupholder, condensation dripping down the sides. the map—the one you swore you didn’t need, and luke insisted you bring anyway—flutters against your knee every time the wind hits just right. it’s already creased and stained, with corners starting to curl. neither of you are really using it.

a cd clicks softly in the stereo, and a hazy guitar riff spills out—something easy, something old. the kind of music that makes you feel like you’re in a movie.

you hum to the songs you know, watching the scenery blur past in golden smears of light and heat.

luke’s driving one-handed, the other resting lazily out the window, fingers tapping against the door in time with the beat. sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose, and there’s a sunburn blooming along the edge of his jaw that he keeps forgetting to take care of. he looks over at you, grinning.

“you’re gonna fly out the window if you lean any further.”

“worth it,” you say, hair whipping across your face. “this breeze is all that’s keeping me alive right now.”

he chuckles, reaching over to tug the map from your lap. “you’re the one who said we didn’t need to stop for sunscreen. or, y’know, ice.”

“and you’re the one who didn’t want to stop for directions,” you shoot back, watching him squint at the map like it personally offended him. “so now we’re two thirsty idiots lost somewhere between nowhere and hell.”

“romantic,” he says, tossing the map into the backseat. “just the way i like it.”

you roll your eyes, but it’s affectionate. always is with him.

the wind smells like dust and wildflowers, and every few miles, you pass a road sign faded by time and sun. one of them promises a lake in twenty minutes which probably is not true. the next, a diner with the “best pie in the state.” you don’t stop for either. maybe the next one.

you were supposed to take turns driving. that was the deal—fifty-fifty, no arguments. but luke, being luke, never sticks to the plan. he always insists he’s fine, even when you catch his eyes fluttering shut at a red light, head tilting slightly like he’s about to nod off right then and there.

“i literally saw you close your eyes for five seconds,” you say when he pulls into a gas station, the gravel crunching beneath the tires as he parks.

“it was just five seconds,” he groans.

“five seconds away from crashing,” you mutter, already unbuckling your seatbelt. “move over.”

he sighs, dragging himself out from behind the wheel with all the theatrics of someone who’s definitely not fine, even if he still insists otherwise. he grumbles under his breath as he slides into the passenger seat—and is completely passed out the second his head hits the window. no “i’m not even tired,” no “just resting my eyes.” just out cold. mouth open, snoring, even drooling a little.

you drive comfortably after that. there’s less tension on your shoulders now that you’re the one in control, and luke’s quiet snoring is oddly comforting.

he stirs sometime later, sleep-warm and rumpled, his voice still thick with it when he reaches across the console. his hand finds yours with ease, like it’s muscle memory. his fingers slot between yours and, without a word, he lifts your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. soft. slow. like a thank-you.

somewhere between a cracked-out diner with the best grilled cheese you’ve ever had and a pit stop at a quiet national park, you start feeling it—that warm, slow burn that only summer with luke castellan can bring.

it’s in the way he looks at you when you’re not looking, eyes softer than you’ve ever seen them. it’s in the casual brush of his thumb over the back of your hand. it’s in the way he steals bites of your food, complains about the heat, and still tucks a cold bottle of water into your hands without being asked.

he’s quiet during the hikes, but he always slows down so you don’t fall behind, even when you insist you’re fine. he keeps snacks in his pockets for you, things he knows you like, things you didn’t even notice him buying. and when you sit beside him on the edge of a cliff, watching the sun drip like honey into the horizon, he kisses your shoulder so gently it sends goosebumps across your skin.

he takes so many pictures of you. most of the time you don’t even notice until he shows you later—sun-drenched, wind-tousled, blurry with motion but sharp with love. he says he wants to remember you like this. you laugh and roll your eyes, but still smile a little too hard when you see them.

you two stop at a few motels every now and then. they were nothing special. peeling paint, flickering neon sign half-buzzed out, and a questionable stain or two on the carpet—but it’s cheap, and it’s got just enough charm to feel like part of the story. luke leans against the counter while you check in, tapping the bell repeatedly until you swat at him.

the old woman behind the desk gives you a room key and a knowing smirk like she’s seen a thousand versions of you two before: sunburnt, road-weary, eyes too bright to be anything but in love.

sometimes, impulses get the best of the two of you. like when one day luke spots a faded little hand-painted sign pointing down an overgrown path off the side of the highway. beach access. there’s no one around. no cars. just the sound of cicadas and wind through tall grass.

you both follow it on instinct, barefoot and laughing, racing toward the sound of crashing waves.

and then there it is: a hidden stretch of shoreline tucked between two cliffs, like a secret carved out just for you. no footprints, no noise except for the ocean. the sand’s hot and soft under your feet, the sun dipping low on the horizon and casting everything in amber.

you run straight into the water, still half-dressed, splashing and shrieking when luke dunks you under and then pulls you back up, breathless and dripping. he kisses you then, water-slicked and grinning, hands on your waist like he’s never going to let go.

and later, after you’ve both sprinted back to the car, giddy and dripping wet, after the sand’s stuck to every inch of your skin and the sun’s painted you gold, you end up tangled in the back seat. skin sticky with sweat, your bodies pressed close in the heat of the car, breathing in tandem.

the windows fog up, the air thick with salt and sun and something heavier. the radio hums low, some lazy summer song playing beneath the sounds of your bodies shifting, touching, needing. his hands roam like he’s mapping you out all over again, rough in the way he holds you but gentle in the way he touches, like he knows exactly where to press to make you shiver.

he kisses you like he’s trying to memorize the taste of salt on your lips, like he wants to bottle this exact moment and keep it somewhere safe. and you, half-laughing between gasps, fingers twisted in his curls, mumble against his mouth, “i told you the backseat would get too hot.”

“guess we’ll have to open the door,” he says, voice low and teasing. “get a breeze in here.”

you roll your eyes, breathless and flushed. “fuck off, if we get caught by some poor park ranger—”

“worth it,” he grins, before kissing you again. deeper, slower this time.

and when you’re breathless and half-dressed, your back pressed to the warm seat and your body aching in all the best ways, you lie there with your head on his chest. his heartbeat is loud in your ear, steady and real.

you tilt your face up toward him, the fading light painting him in gold. “same time next summer?”

his arm tightens around you, his voice soft and full of something you don’t have a name for yet. “you’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

BABY CUPID; rafe cameron

summary: your little sister decides to play cupid for you and the boy you’re seated with.

warnings: mentions of panic attacks || gif credits to @whumpypepsigal

word count: 1644

author’s note: this has been in my idea outlines for months now since i’ve read this certain twitter thread.

rafe would pay to be anywhere but here.

if it wasn’t for his stupid father, and his stupid business, and his stupid people-pleasing complex, then he wouldn’t be stuck in this stupid economy flight to the bahamas.

there was still at least a few minutes before the plane takes off and rafe tries to compose himself as he counts his deep breaths.

“what’s our number?” your little sister asked as you tighten your grip around her legs. you were carrying her and your bags as you tried to look for your seats. “25f, millie.”

“oh, there!” she pointed at the row a few meters away. “there’s a boy in my seat.” millie frowned as she eyed the guy by the window seat.

“a very cute boy,” you mumbled, walking towards your booked seats.

millie snapped her head towards you, her face scrunched up in a scowl.

rafe only looked up from the window when he saw you mount your bags on top of the compartment above you. the little girl you were with had a frown on her face when she saw where he was seated. you offered him a small smile as you lowered her in between your seats.

he watched as you sat down with a relieved sigh. the little girl kneeled down on her seat and cupped her hands around your ear, promptly whispering something to you.

you carefully say her back down properly and placed on her seatbelt as the pilot announced that you were ready for take-off. “well, i did tell you that we shouldn’t have waited in line for your waffle if you wanted the window seat.”

rafe pretended that he wasn’t listening when the girl looked at him. instead, he busied himself with his seatbelt as the plane started moving.

as soon as the plane was in the air, you grabbed your earphones and plugged them into your phone. you turned to face your sister, giving her the stuffed bunny in her bag. “i’m gonna take a nap, okay? be good for me.”

“okay.” she nodded her head, fiddling with the bunny’s ear as you placed the sleeping mask over your eyes.

rafe let out a shaky breath as he gripped on the armrests. he wasn’t about to have a panic attack with a literal kid beside him. that would seem pathetic as he watched her play with her toy.

he was quite sure that he was about to burst into tears when she suddenly spoke up. “i’m going to talk to you randomly so you need to be prepared, okay?”

rafe snapped his head towards the kid looking up at him, letting out a confused hum. “what?”

“my name is millie, and this is da vinci,” she introduced herself and her stuffed bunny. “what’s your name?”

“i- uh, rafe,” he hesitated, looking over at you then at millie before turning to look back out the window, when she started talking again. she wasn’t lying when she said she would talk to him randomly.

“oh, that’s a nice name.” millie smiled up at him. “my sister thinks you’re cute, mr. rafe.”

“i- wha-?” rafe furrowed his eyebrows. he wasn’t even able to get his question out when she opened her mouth again.

“hey, rafe, do you know what everyone should do when they get on the plane?” millie asked, trying to get a peek through the window.

“what?” rafe finally asked, wanting to humor her.

“thank the wright brothers.” she shrugged. rafe watched in amusement as the little girl clasped her tiny hands together and whispered, “thank you, wright brothers.”

“uhm, yeah,” rafe chuckled, feeling the tightness of his chest ease up. “thank you, wright brothers.”

“ooohh! this is a very nice ring,” she grabbed his left hand before dropping it suddenly. “oopsies, boundaries. i’m sorry,”

“nah, it’s okay.” he smiled, offering her his hand. millie hesitantly took it in her small ones and fiddled with the ring on his finger.

“i think it’s really pretty, but you should draw a smiley face in the middle,” she suggested, tracing the gold ring with her tiny finger.

“that’s a good idea, i might just do that.” rafe nodded in agreement. the both of them got into meaningless conversations, varying from different topics in the span of a few minutes.

rafe felt himself calm down completely in the presence of the little girl. he forgot all about his existent fear as she chattered his ear off with random facts and stories.

as soon as she heard the wheels of the cart, she immediately perked up. “oh, good timing, i was getting hungry.”

the flight attendant chuckled. “what can i get for you, sweetheart?”

“uhm,” she tapped her chin in thought. “oh! can i have those free cookies and chocolate milk, please? and uhm, i think my sister would also like that once she wakes up.” she said, before turning to look at rafe. “what about you, mr. rafe?”

“i’ll take the cookies and a cup of coffee, thanks.” he smiled.

“mr. rafe would take the cookies and the cup of coffee.” she repeated, grinning up at the lady as she handed her the cookies and drinks. “thank you!”

rafe sighed in relief as he took a sip of the warm beverage. he placed his own snacks on the tray table and helped mille pull down hers.

“we should watch a movie.” she suggested, grabbing her ipad from her bag.

“sure,” rafe agreed, watching as she scrolled through the number of choices in her downloads. she paused at one point, letting the princess and the frog load as she offered rafe the other bud of her earphones.

another hour later, you slowly stirred from your mini siesta, groaning at the feeling of your stiff neck as you stretched a bit.

“oh, good, you’re awake,” millie looked at you before returning her gaze at rafe, who was taking photos of the sunrise from above. “rafe and i took a lot of goofy pictures while you were asleep, we’re taking pretty sun pictures now.”

“keep the camera there, rafe, that way i can see out the window better.” she requested.

“who’s rafe?” you asked amidst a yawn.

“i’m rafe,” you immediately closed your mouth shut, forcing the yawn back as rafe offered you his hand to shake.

“oh, hi,” you ran a hand through your hair to make sure it was decent-looking as the other shook his. “i’m y/n.”

rafe smiled softly as he gave you a once over. despite the messy hair and wrinkled clothes, he thinks that you’re the most beautiful stranger he’s ever laid eyes on.

the both of you only snapped out of your gazing when the plane shifted and millie spoke up. “they’re tilting us so we can see better! how nice.”

you and rafe exchanged amused chuckles because the plane definitely wasn’t turning, only giving you a better view.

the captain spoke up, informing all of you that the plane was about to land in a few minutes. you buckled in your sister’s before yours as she tries to keep herself from practically bouncing on her seat.

rafe kept his eyes on you and your sister when he slowly felt his chest tighten. he placed a harsh grip on both of the armrests, trying to direct his attention on the two girls who made his flight bearable.

“we’re going down!” millie exclaimed, and you had to slap your hand on her mouth when the lady in front of you jolted out of her sleep at the sudden cry of your sister. rafe had a soft smile on his face when he felt her tiny hand unconsciously grab onto his, watching as you profusely apologized to the poor spooked lady.

“i feel so lucky that i got to sit by you, rafe,” millie smiled up at him.

rafe felt his heart warm up at the words of the little girl. he gave her hand a small squeeze as he replied, “me, too,”

you and millie were accompanied by rafe up until the baggage claim after your sister begged you to let him come with you, her quick attachment to the boy making it hard for you to compromise on your current situation.

“why can’t he come with us, y/n/n?” she pouted, staying over at rafe’s side instead of yours.

“i think mr rafe has some business he needs to attend to, love,” you smiled sadly, crouching down to look at her. “maybe you’ll get to see him again next time.”

“i mean, i can always fit you guys into my schedule during my visit.” rafe offered. “millie’s a sweet girl, and quite frankly, she, uh, helped me today with my issues with planes.”

“plus, a little birdie told me that you found her seatmate incredibly handsome.” he added, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“i didn’t- i never said-“ you huffed, throwing your arms lightly in the air.

“it’s fine, s’alright.” he assured you, as he grabbed his phone from his pocket. “i best believe that her seatmate found you really cute, too. especially when you were sleeping.”

“creep!” you laughed, grabbing the phone from him and punched in your number.

“what’s happening, i don’t understand what’s happening.” millie whined, switching her attention from you and rafe.

“i guess you and rafe could have another playdate.” you told her, fastening her backpack properly.

“how about you? will you and rafe have a date?” she wiggled her eyebrows at you mischievously.

“oh i-“

“well we-“

you and rafe looked at each other. he raised an eyebrow at you inquisitively. “i mean, i’d love to take you out on a date… if you want?”

“i’d like that.” you smiled at him.

“yes!” millie cheered, pumping her arm in the air. “i don’t know about you guys but i think i’d do a great job as cupid.”

red lipstick | rc

| pairing: (non canon) rafe cameron x female reader

| genre: fluff, college rafe, halloween fic

| content warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol/drinking, mentions of food, a few tears

| précis: you get your boyfriend to dress up with you.

| word count: 1,512

You could barely believe it yourself when your boyfriend agreed to coordinate costumes with you.

Well, scratch that—you could believe it, but it was the particular costume you’d chosen that he agreed to—that shocked you.

Keep reading

Why is like every account I’ve ever blogs on here deactivated

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Warnings: Smut of all kinds, this is filthy and sad, angst, like heartbreaking angst

Word Count: 1.7k

A/n: Anon requested this one! "Can you please do a Rafe Cameron imagine where the reader is a Pogue and has a secret friends with benefits with Rafe, which was going well until they started catching feelings for each other and became increasingly jealous. Thank you so much!" I love this angsty, smutty, fluffy thing- it's so fun.

"Rafe, fuck." I breathe, face crashing onto the bed as he drills into me from behind, large hands bruising my hips as he thrusts in and out of me with an evil laugh.

"Talk to me, baby." He coos, his voice the opposite of his rough touch as his hand soothes up my spine to wrap his fingers around the back of my neck, pulling me back against him, my back flattening against his chest.

"Feels so good." I grit, tears billowing behind my eyes as I reach out to wrap my arms around his neck, fingers fisting some of his hair while I try desperately to ground myself to him- to anything. "You're so deep."

"Wanna be deeper." His lips skim desperately against my chest as he searches for my lips, our lips meeting in a messy kiss that seems to satisy both of our hunger to be impossibly closer. "Missed you all day. I wanted nothing more than to be between these thighs- most perfect fucking place in the whole goddamn world."

"I-"

"What was that? Couldn't hear you." Rafe cuts me off, hand slipping down the front of my body to play with my clit, rubbing fast circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves with no remorse, my jaw dropping in a loud moan. My head falls back against his shoulder, unable to hold myself up anymore as I slump against him.

"Fuck you." I hiss, gripping onto anything I can, feeling Rafe's hand flatten on my back as he presses me against the mattress once more, the slapping of his hips against mine and the low music are the only things to be heard in the room.

"That's what you're doing, sweetheart. You want more?"

"Yes, more, please." I beg, fingers twisting up in the sheets as I can feel my orgasm sneaking up on me, heat spreading throughout my core as my legs begin to tremble.

"Greedy fucking girl." I tip over the edge with a dropped jaw, feeling Rafe right behind me as he spills into me, his whole body hunching over mine as he groans loudly, fingers leaving bruises in my waist as he catches his breath.

I've barely registered that he's slipping out of me and slipping on his shirt when I'm coming out of my post-orgasm haze, my hands rubbing at my eyes as I beg myself to ask him for a hug or something, anything to show that he cares about me but he just turns to me, holding his hand up.

"I'll see you at the party?" I give his extended hand a high five with a half assed nod, clutching the shirt he tosses my way to my chest.

"That's all?" I ask with a breathless sigh, tilting my head dumbly at him.

"Anything else you want?"

"A kiss." He laughs at my puckered lips and his eyes roll in fake annoyance but there's still a shit eating grin on his lips as he leans down towards me.

"Ugh, I guess." He whines, pressing a longing kiss to my lips, lingering a bit before giving my nose a peck. "See you later, sweetheart."

--

I watch them from across the room, the pretty blonde seated atop Rafe's lap with no hesitation, pouring a shot between his lips. Kie is talking to me but I'm not listening to a word she's saying, my eyes locked on Rafe and Rafe alone as he shoots me a wink.

I'm on my feet in a moment, jealousy consuming me and I no longer can bare looking at him and feeling the possessiveness that I'm consumed by and I make it out to the driveway by the time I feel Rafe's fingers wrapping around my wrist, tugging me back into him.

"Hey, hey, hey, where are you going?" He asks, trying to reach up to cup my cheeks but I bat him away, shoving him away from me with an angry groan.

"I'm leaving, Rafe." I try to fumble with my keys to start my car, pressing the alarm button so I can find it in the sea of cars but Rafe snatches my keys from me and holds them over my head. Asshole.

"C'mon- fuck, stop. Come back to the party, we'll have some fun." He offers with a sickly sweet smile. "Wanna fuck?"

"Rafe-"

"C'mon, let me fuck that attitude right out of you." His hands slide down to my hips, pulling me flush against him and he almost convinces me to stay just from the look in his eyes.

"I'm not in the mood." I huff, smacking him away again as his brows furrow deeply, hands now settled at his side, his eyes uncomfortably sweeping over my tense frame.

"You're always in the mood."

"Yeah well I'm in a mood, just not the one you want me to be in." I smile bitterly, going to turn around again but he runs in front of me, blocking my way and my view of the cars in the distance.

"Hey," he whispers softly, "talk to me." I can feel tears bubbling behind my eye lids as I stare down at the blacktop, thinking of what to say to him to get him to go away, not wanting to confront him and my feelings at the same time.

"You should be careful, wouldn't want you to be seen with me."

"I- what?" He turns his head to look back at the party with a scoff, eyes squinting under the bright sun that's setting above us. "You really think I care about that? That other people care about that?" He asks and I nod, sticking to my gut, settled on pushing him away the best that I can. "I think the disputed narcissism and coke addiction will upset people before me fucking a pogue upsets anyone."

"I can't do this right now." I scoff, stepping away from him as his face pales in fear and I feel my aching heart drop to my stomach.

"You're really freaking me out." He breathes shakily. "Are you dumping me?" If I didn't know him any better, I'd think he was wounded and actually hurt by the mention of no longer seeing me and based on the redness in the whites of his eyes, I'm starting to doubt how much I know him.

"Nothing to dump, there's nothing between us, right?" I lie.

"Right." He looks as if I slapped him across the face, his jaw clenching as he takes a tentative step away from me with a deep frown. He scoffs once more before spinning around on his heel and he begins to walk away but turns right back around. "You know what- fuck you." He juts a finger in my direction and I feel my heart sink to my stomach. "I don't open up, I don't keep people around unless I want to." He finally cracks, tears filling his eyes in frustration. "I keep you around because I want to keep you around!"

"Go keep Ashely around or whatever that bimbo's name is."

"You're jealous." He breathes, a lonesome tear slipping down his cheek as my lips part in quiet shock, feeling overwhelmingly stupid all of a sudden that he's able to read me so easily, as if he actually knows me.

"Fuck you."

"You're jealous because you like me and don't want to admit it." He reaches out to me, wrapping his fingers around my upper arms in an attempt to keep me close to him and I don't fight him, feeling frustrated tears lift to my eyes as I frown, not wanting to talk about this right now.

"How could I like you?!" I screech but he grins like a fool, hands reaching up to cup my cheeks in his hands, pulling my body flush against his. "You're brutal, you leave bruises on me every time we fuck which is so annoying, there's absolutely nothing affectionate about you-"

"So, what? You want me to be gentle?" He asks softly, almost as a coo, lip jutting out in a gentle pout as he presses a kiss to my lips, leaving me hanging on the edge, waiting for him to kiss me desperately again after almost losing me.

"You're incapable of being gentle." I whisper against his lips, knowing my words are fake because he's being so soft, so gentle as he kisses my cheeks, back and forth.

"That a bet?" He asks with a wicked smile and I smile bashfully.

"Rafe."

"C'mon." He pleads. "I'm sorry." His words are a whisper against my lips, a pleading, desperate whisper and I nod, apologizing too under my breath. "I want to keep you around, don't want you going anywhere." He holds me as if his words are true, arms wrapped tightly around my back and I smile, letting myself fall into him, no longer mad. "Tell me what I have to do to keep you around."

"Stop fucking hiding me." I whisper against his neck and he nods with a hearty laugh and I can already hear him making fun of me before he even opens his mouth.

"So you wanna be my girlfriend?" He teases, soothing a hand down my back as he grins wolfishly.

"How disgustingly cheesy."

"Hmm?" He hums, finding my eyes again as I soften a bit, giving him a gentle nod. "What do you want? You want everyone here to know I'm yours?" There's a fire behind his eyes that only deepens as I nod desperately, wanting nothing more than for every girl here that's chasing after him to know better than to look at him. "Well I am. Have been since we started fucking."

"Shut up." I giggle, nervously tucking my face in the crook of his neck.

"Shut me up."

punk!patrick x reader

-

the minute you and your friend walk up to the house it’s quite obvious there’s a party going on. from the people dry humping on the grass outside to the music pouring out the house. you wondered how the cops hadn’t been called yet.

inside smelt like weed, sweat and other bodily fluids. right off the bat you realize these aren’t the kinda people you’re used to partying with. they were all dressed in heavy black clothes and makeup with jewelry covering their faces.

you stuck out like sore thumb in your mini jean skirt and pink top.

“i can’t believe you talked me into this.” you were currently being squished between bodies of people in someones stuffy basement. “it’s gonna be totally worth it ok, the guys in this band are hot.” your friend yelled back in your ear. that’s honestly the real reason you even joined her.

the instant screams that erupted when five guys walked onto the makeshift stage cut you off from responding to her. and the second your eyes caught the drummer you were hooked.

he had mini spikes in his black hair, piercings studded out of his eyebrow, ears and lip. loud shitty punk rock music blared in your ears, but you were completely focused on the unnamed drummer who was twisting his drumsticks between his fingers before beating them down. banging his head in time to the beat. you eventually found yourself jumping and screaming along with everyone else.

by the time their set came to an end your throat was sore and you could feel sweat bedding on your hairline.

“thanks for that energy you guys we got another band coming up soon so either stick around or don’t.” and you didn’t. the second you saw the drummer getting up, making his way through the crowd and you perked up. “hey. i’m gonna go get a drink.” you absentmindedly patted your friends shoulder, following after the black haired boy.

-

you caught up with him in the kitchen. he was chugging back whatever was in his cup before pouring some more. you tried not to get distracted by his wife beater that seemed a size too small from the way the hemline sat cropped showing off his happy trail.

“your guys set was really good.”

the guy in front of you took one look up and down at you before scoffing into his cup. “really?” you hummed, nodding your head, and pouring yourself a drink. “i loved all the um— anti conformist lyrics.” he shook his head and laughed. “right right. listen don’t take offense but are you sure you’re at the right party?” he was totally right you were at the wrong party, but that didn’t mean he could call you on it.”

it was your turn to scoff. “and why wouldn’t i be right party?” he just shrugged. “doesn’t really seem like your speed.” “and how do you know what my speed is?” you cocked your head to the side. “didn’t your mother ever tell you to not judge based on the cover, huh?” he threw up his hands in defense. “you’re right, i’m sorry. thank you for enjoying the show.”

“you’re welcome.”

there was silence before he spoke again. “i’m patrick by the way.” you repeated his name, testing how it felt in your mouth then introducing yourself.

you watched him out the side of your eye chew on the rim of his solo cup. “so.” you cleared your throat. “do you guys always play basements?” the drummer, you now know as patrick shook his head. “sometimes we play dive bars and other parties. it’s just this is our bassist brothers house so lets he us play whenever.” you nodded, “that’s sweet”

“he’s an asshole.” you nearly choked on your drink at the abrupt answer. “but he lets us use his garage for practice so i guess he’s ok.”

it was patrick’s turn to ask you a question. “you play any instruments.” you tilted your head up thinking. patrick’s eyes immediately hone in on your neck thinking about how good it’d look decorated in the marks he wanted to leave behind. “piano in the fifth grade.” you reveal.

“cute.”

suddenly patrick was close to you. “come with me.” he abandons his drink to grab your wrist pulling you with him.

-

you got a semi bad feeling when you guys reached the destination. it was dark but you could tell it was also spacious. you could only hope your weren’t about to get murdered by a guy in eyeliner.

“tada.”

the lights came on and you let out a breath. it was just a garage.

“and why are we in here?” you turned around to look at him, your eyes catching his fingers moving to twist the lock.

patrick walked around you to the drumset that sat near a wall. “was just a little loud in there.” he took a seat on the stool in front of the drums. “how long have you been playing.” you asked, walking you fingers crossed that gold cymbals that’s dinged together softly. “since i was ten.”

“a real professional, huh.”

patrick laughed holding out the drumsticks in your direction. “wanna try?” you nodded

you sat in his lap with his big hands covering your as he guided them to drum a simple beat. “so, gonna tell me why you’re really here.” his voice was deep in your ear. “just wanted to see who was playing tonight.” you say sticking to your lie.

“bullshit.”

his hands leave yours and rest on your bare thighs. “come on just tell me. i know you don’t listen to this shit.” he referenced to the music that you could hear faintly. “fine, my friend is more into this stuff i only came because the band was supposedly hot.” you shrugged.

you felt the rumble of his laugh on your back and his fingers sliding up your thighs.

“and are they? hot, i mean.” patrick’s breath was hot against the back of your neck, his lips ghosting your skin. “mmm, the drummers pretty alright.” you tease. turning around to face him. “that right.” you nodded, making the first move to press your lips against his.

the kiss escalated quickly, you tugging on his bottom lip piercing with your teeth earning a groan from him. he slide his hand down the front of your skirt. “o-oh my god.” patrick easily slipped his middle finger into your wet heat. “you’re so wet.” he muttered against the skin of your neck that he was sucking marks into. “a-another.” you moaned and patrick’s pushed his ring finger in and pumped them both in and out at a fast pace, his palm hitting against your clit.

you abandoned the drumsticks on the floor grabbing on to patrick’s wrist. “oh fuck! right there.” your knee jerked up hitting the drum set causing the cymbals to bang together drowning out the obscene squelching noises, when patrick’s finger tips find your g spot.

“m’close.” you whine, throwing your head back on to his shoulder. “gonna cum all over my fingers,huh? ” he said in your ear. pressing kisses on your cheeks and jaw. you could only nod, your whimpering getting louder and breathing getting heavier. all it took was patrick’s thumb flicking at your clit to send you over.

“oh my god, u-uh!”

patrick let you ride out your high, grinding your hips down on his fingers. you slumped back into him, catching your breath. patrick pulled his hand and out you pants and turned your face towards him. you ignored the cringey feeling of your wet fingers against your cheek. he fitted his tongue into your mouth in a messy make out.

“fuck.” patrick pushing you to stand up before dragging you by your belt loop to the wall that was behind you. “need to be inside you.” he rushed out, pulling you in for another kiss that tasted like weed and fireball. “this wanted you wanted all along right? to get fucked.” he hiked up your skirt to your waist, pulling your panties out and disregarding them on the floor.

he unzipped his pants enough to pull his cock out. “wanted to come to the show and play groupie?” he traced the tip of his cock on your already sensitive cunt. “you can be my little groupie, follow me around.”

“yeah-yes!” you threw your head back hitting the wall when patrick pushed his full length into you. patrick held your legs around his waist, squeezing the fat of your ass between his calloused palms in a bruising grip.

“god, you’re tight.” patrick groaned, thrusting his hips up.

you didn’t know how long you’d last, your inner walls still sensitive and throbbing. the feeling of patrick’s cock dragging against them had your moans bouncing off the walls of the garage. “f-feels so good.”

patrick moaned, completely taken by the site of his dick disappearing in and out of your cunt, coming back wetter each time. “this perfect pussy.”

your guys moans mingled together in a mix of low and high pitched grunts and groans.

your nails embedded themselves in patrick’s shoulders. “gonna cum again.” you whined and patrick sped up. his cock head drilling into that soft spot inside you. patrick dropped his head into the crook of your neck grunting into it. “shit, do it. wanna feel you cum on around me.”

you took hold of patrick’s dark locks messing up his gelled spike. your walls got tighter around him. your head hitting the back of the wall, and a moan getting stuck in throat in the midst of your orgasm.

“f-fuck.”

patrick pulled out still hard and on the verge of cumming, jerking himself off in four hasty strokes before he released on your inner thighs and the wall.

“holy fuck.” patrick slotted his lips against your in a wet kiss.

you both silently got back dressed. you tugging your skirt back in place and patrick stuffing his dick back in his pants.

“here.” patrick picked a sharpie that was lying around, and grabbed hold of your arm. “my number.” he scribbled it in messy writing. “just in case you want these back.” he grabbed your lost underwear off the floor holding them up before tucking them into his back pocket. leaving you in the garage to collect yourself

-