About me: My name is Faith but I mainly go by Faye - 18yo - she/her/hers - my favorite colors are white and pink mainly light pink - I love Lana del rey and Blood orange - my favorite films are the 100 and outer banks (ovi :3) - proud: democrat, pro choice, fuck trump.
Main account (OBX - Rafe & JJ) @rafes-honey
MASTERLIST <3
Character AI: Rafes-honey
Tiktok: Rafes.baby
I will write anything and some things can get dark but they will have a warning, I will not tolerate any slander/hate/or discrimination of any kind! & My work is not to be transferred or copied in anyway without my consent :3
This Blog is for Bellamy Blake - I will write almost anything and my requests are always open (come chat!)
Daily blurbs/fics/headcannons (mainly on my main acc) but I will try to post everyday or every other day on this account aswell!
The second the door hisses shut, Bellamy’s on you—one hand gripping your hip, the other fisting into your hair and yanking your head back until you’re gasping.
“I’ve been thinking about this all fucking day,” he growls, voice deep and rough against your ear. “You bending over that bar in those tight little pants.”
He kisses you hard, teeth dragging against your lip before biting down just enough to make you gasp. His hand slides lower, cupping between your legs through your pants, pressing hard.
“You were soaked, werent you?” he murmurs, already tugging at the waistband. “All shift just waiting for me to take this pussy again.”
You nod barely your head pulled back by the grip he still has on your hair. He gives it another sharp tug and your knees buckle.
“Use your words.”
“Yes” you breathe. “I wanted it so bad. I was dripping.”
That earns you a dark grin his fingers undoing your pants with practiced ease. He pushes them down to your knees, panties bunched with them, and the second your pussy is exposed to the cool air, he’s on his knees, spreading you open with both hands.
“Fucking perfect” he growls dragging the flat of his tongue from your entrance all the way up to your clit. You cry out, thighs trembling, hands flying to his curls but he’s not gentle. He doesn’t ease in. He licks like he’s starving, like your taste is the only thing keeping him alive, fingers digging into your thighs so hard you know he’ll leave bruises.
You try to stay standing but your legs are already giving out.
“Fuck—Bellamy”
He doesn’t stop. He slides one thick finger into you, slow but firm, curling it immediately and dragging it against that spongy spot that makes your breath hitch.
“So tight,” he mutters against your cunt. “You’re clenching already.”
You’re soaking wet dripping down your thighs, his finger sliding in easily now as he adds a second. The stretch makes your back arch, long hair falling around your shoulders, strands clinging to your sweat-damp skin.
He notices. Of course he does.
One of his hands snakes up your body, tangling in your hair again and pulling your head down to meet his eyes. His fingers keep moving inside you, thick and relentless.
“You look so fucking pretty like this,” he says. “Hair all messy, mouth open, soaking my hand like a good girl.”
Your knees finally give out, but he catches you, lifting you effortlessly and tossing you onto the bed. Your pants and panties are gone before you can blink, top tugged off over your head, bra discarded like it offended him. You’re bare, flushed, skin burning and Bellamy is still fully dressed.
“Take it off,” you beg, watching his cock strain hard behind his pants. “I need it. Need you inside me.”
He just chuckles darkly and starts stripping shirt first, revealing that strong chest you always end up clawing at, then the pants. When he finally pulls down his boxers, you swallow hard.
Every single time, the sight of him hits you like the first. Thick, long, veiny his cock bobs up, flushed and leaking at the tip, already heavy with need.
Your thighs squeeze together instinctively.
“Spread ‘em,” he orders, climbing onto the bed.
You obey instantly, legs wide, your soaked cunt glistening for him. He groans low in his throat and moves between them, running the thick head through your folds, dragging it over your clit, then back down to your entrance.
“You’re gonna feel this for days,” he murmurs.
And then he pushes in.
You cry out, fingers clenching the sheets. The stretch is immediate intense your pussy clenching hard around the massive intrusion. He goes slow at first, almost too slow, letting you feel every inch, every thick vein dragging against your walls.
You’re panting, eyes fluttering, your long hair sticking to your cheeks and collarbones as your body struggles to take all of him.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, gripping your hips. “You’re squeezing me so tight. Look at that look at how much I’m stretching you.”
You glance down and your breath stutters his cock is halfway in, your pussy wrapped tight around it, skin stretched to the limit.
“Bellamy—please—more…”
“You can take it,” he growls, voice going darker. “I know you can.”
He drives in deeper and you scream, a broken sound punched from your lungs. Your hands claw at his back as he bottoms out, balls pressing tight against your ass. You feel full. Stuffed. It’s not just the stretch it’s the way he moves once he’s fully inside you.
He sets a brutal pace, hips snapping forward, each thrust knocking the breath from your lungs. The bed creaks under you, the slap of skin on skin echoing off the walls. Your long hair spreads across the sheets in a tangled mess, his hand wrapping around it and pulling.
“You feel that?” he pants. “That’s me right there.”
His cock hits deep, grinding into that sweet, perfect spot that has your eyes rolling back. Your orgasm creeps fast, the pressure building until it’s blinding.
“Bellamy! I—I’m gonna…”
“That’s right,” he growls, never slowing. “Come all over my cock. Let me feel you squeeze.”
You shatter around him, thighs shaking, eyes fluttering as heat explodes low in your belly. Your cunt clenches down hard, and he groans, thrusts turning sloppy.
“I’m not done,” he mutters, pulling your knees up and spreading you wider. “You’re gonna come again. You can take it.”
“Too much—fuck…it’s too….”
He doesn’t care. He loves it. Loves the way you cry and beg, how you writhe beneath him with hair stuck to your sweaty skin and tears in your eyes. Loves how your body shakes as he pounds into you like he owns it.
“Touch your clit,” he pants. “Come again. Come while I fill you up.”
You obey with shaking fingers, rubbing tight circles over your clit as his cock drills into you. The second orgasm crashes over you, harder than the first your vision goes white, your scream lost in your throat.
And then he breaks.
Bellamy groans your name, hips stuttering as he buries himself deep, cock twitching as he spills inside you, hot and thick. You feel it flood your pussy, dripping down your thighs as he holds himself there, panting into your neck.
He stays like that, buried deep, letting your cunt milk every drop.
“Fuck,” he finally breathes, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “You’re a goddamn addiction.”
