spiceforyou - SpiceForYou
SpiceForYou

A blog purely for me to reblog spicy things! And maybe write spicy things?

90 posts

Latest Posts by spiceforyou - Page 4

2 months ago

I need 💨 🍆. IMMEDIATELY

omggg i need rafe x stoner gf who comes home high nd needy🙂‍↔️

lamy's notes: i hope you like it!!

the door creaks open, and you stumble inside, still wrapped in the hazy warmth of your high. the world feels softer, edges blurred, your skin tingling like it’s alive, aware of every sensation. your laugh is low, quiet, spilling out like a lazy stream as you toe off your sneakers.

“rafe?” your voice is sing-song, a little slurred, dripping with sweetness as you call for him.

he appears from the kitchen, his frame backlit by the soft glow of the under-cabinet lights. arms crossed, his sharp features pull into a knowing smirk the moment he sees you swaying slightly, your eyes heavy-lidded and glassy.

“jesus,” he mutters, but there’s no judgment in his voice, only amusement—and something darker, something that sharpens when he looks at you like this. “how high are you?”

“mmm… like… a lot,” you admit, giggling as you close the distance between you, your fingers reaching for him instinctively. “but, baby… you have no idea how good i feel.”

you’re in his space now, your hands sliding up his chest, your body leaning into his. rafe’s arms come around you almost reflexively, steadying you as you nuzzle into his neck. you’re warm and soft against him, and your scent—a mix of whatever you’d been smoking and the faint sweetness of your perfume—wraps around him, intoxicating in its own way.

“i missed you,” you mumble, your lips brushing his skin with every word. “like… so much.”

“you were gone for, what, two hours?” he teases, though his voice drops, deepening as his hands settle on your hips. you’re swaying slightly, and he keeps you anchored, his thumbs stroking small circles into the fabric of your leggings.

“felt like forever,” you counter, pulling back just enough to look at him. your eyes meet his, and there’s a spark of mischief in your gaze that makes his grip on your hips tighten. “i was just sitting there, thinking about you. about us.”

he quirks an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “yeah? and what were you thinking?”

“you wanna know?” you ask, your voice dropping, playful and suggestive. your fingers toy with the hem of his t-shirt, slipping underneath to brush against his warm skin.

“tell me,” he says, and there’s an edge to his tone now, his patience fraying.

“i was thinking,” you start, dragging your nails lightly up his stomach, “about how good you feel. how good you make me feel.” your lips curve into a slow, lazy smile, your hands wandering higher. “and how much i want you right now.”

he exhales sharply, his hands flexing on your hips as he fights for control. “you’re unbelievable,” he says, his voice low, thick with amusement and want.

“mmm,” you hum, leaning up to kiss him, slow and teasing, your lips brushing his but never quite pressing fully. “please, rafe… i’ve been so good.”

“good, huh?” he asks, his voice dipping lower as he crowds you against the wall, his body pressing into yours. his knee nudges between your thighs, and you gasp softly, the sensation sending a fresh wave of heat through your already buzzing body. “you think you deserve a reward for coming home stoned out of your mind and throwing yourself at me?”

“yes,” you answer without hesitation, your lips brushing his jaw. “please?”

he groans, low and guttural, before capturing your mouth in a kiss that’s anything but teasing. it’s hot, demanding, his hands sliding lower to grip your ass, pulling you tighter against him. you whimper into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair, your body arching into his as the room spins pleasantly around you.

“bed,” he mutters against your lips, his voice rough. “now.”

you’re grinning as he lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist, your laughter mingling with his groan as he carries you down the hallway.

he lays you down gently, but the weight of his body pressing into yours makes your breath catch. his mouth is everywhere—on your neck, your collarbone, the curve of your shoulder—leaving a trail of heat that has you squirming beneath him. his hands are no less insistent, tugging your shirt up and over your head before palming your breasts through your bra.

“you’re so fucking perfect,” he murmurs, his voice muffled as his lips drag lower, over the swell of your chest, down your stomach. he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, pulling them down slowly, savoring every inch of skin he reveals.

“rafe,” you breathe, your voice shaky, needy.

“i know, baby,” he says, his eyes dark as they flick up to meet yours. “gonna take care of you. promise.”

his mouth moves lower, and when his tongue flicks over your clit, your back arches off the bed, a soft cry spilling from your lips. he hums against you, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure through your body as he works you with a precision that leaves you breathless. his hands grip your thighs, keeping you open for him, his movements relentless as he draws moan after moan from your lips.

when you’re trembling beneath him, teetering on the edge, he pulls back, his lips glistening, his smirk downright sinful. “not yet,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

he rises, shedding his shirt, his jeans, until he’s bare before you, all lean muscle and raw intensity. he covers your body with his, his hand sliding between your thighs, his fingers teasing, testing, until you’re writhing against him, desperate for more.

“rafe, please,” you beg, your nails digging into his shoulders.

he doesn’t make you wait. he pushes inside slowly, his forehead dropping to yours as he lets out a guttural groan. the stretch is exquisite, every inch of him filling you, making you gasp. he stills, giving you a moment to adjust, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s surprisingly tender.

“you okay?” he asks, his voice rough, strained.

“yes,” you whisper, your hands tangling in his hair. “please, move.”

he does, starting slow, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each one sending a wave of pleasure crashing over you. his name falls from your lips like a prayer, and he answers with your own, his voice low and wrecked as he murmurs how good you feel, how perfect you are.

“fuck, baby,” he groans, his voice tight, breath hitching with every roll of his hips. “you feel so fucking amazing. taking me so well.”

as his pace quickens, the room fills with the sound of your shared breaths, your moans, the soft slap of skin against skin. every nerve in your body is on fire, the intensity building with every thrust until you’re shattering beneath him, crying out his name as you fall apart.

“that’s it,” he growls, his voice thick with need. “let go for me, baby. wanna feel you.”

he follows seconds later, his release a low groan against your neck as he buries himself deep, his body trembling above yours.

for a moment, neither of you move, the only sound your ragged breathing. then he shifts, rolling to the side and pulling you with him, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

“you’re trouble, you know that?” he mutters, his lips pressing to your temple.

“but you love me,” you tease, your voice soft, drowsy.

he chuckles, his hold on you tightening. “yeah,” he says, his voice low, tender. “i really fucking do.”

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