private and mutual only blog for KYLO REN , BEN SOLO from star wars . removed from canon - adapted into multiple medias & headcanon based . loved by 𝒎𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒚 , twenty four , MINORS DNI . low activity . established on march 17th, 2025 . affiliated with :
[¹] carrd (rules can be found here) , [²] interest tracker
CREDIT : icon template is by black licorice by supersources , psd is by jungrainsoul , graphic by myself <3
summary — it’s late and she’s nervous for an upcoming show. justin knows just the remedy to help her unwind.
warnings — fem!equestrian!reader, fluff, pure tomfoolery
note — inspired by this tiktok i saw because it was so fucking funny 😭
tags — @irishmanwhore @joeyburrrow @hannahjessica113 (comment/send an ask to be added. this is the justin taglist specifically!)
THE SETTING SUN CASTS a golden glow over the grounds. Horses nicker in the background, the whispers of shavings being shuffled around in stalls filled the air. Horses have been fed their dinner and preventative supplements, gnawing happily on their snacks.
She, on the other hand, was not as relaxed as her mare was.
It was the biggest show of her career. She’d trained for this day, the hours spent at the barn, the blood, sweat, and tears poured into each lesson, it all led to this. Showing at Ocala. Everyone wanted a shot.
She got hers.
But was she ready? Would she be able to focus? What if her mare, Cleo, lost her damn mind? What if she got injured? What if what if what if?
“I got you a slushee,” Justin’s voice broke her anxious spiral, his hands holding two blue slushees, “the machine took forever,”
“It’s a horse show, babe,” she sighed, standing up from her place on the mounting block, “the food here isn’t exactly top tier,”
“Well, the way you described it, it should be,” he sipped from his slushee, his eyes trailing over her body. She was tense, her shoulders a hair taller than they usually were.
“Just because they’re rich doesn’t mean they invest in good food,” she pointed out. The later afternoon blended into evening, beautiful shades of purple and blue painting the sky. Yet the calming atmosphere did little to calm her nerves.
“Well they should,” he slurped obnoxiously from his slushee, his tongue turning blue. Justin could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her foot tapped against the mounting block. She was nervous. More nervous than she usually was.
Justin noticed. He always did.
He pulled up a bucket, gently settling himself down on it. His knees were to his chest, and he looked like he was trying to imitate a fetus.
“You could grab one of the camping chairs, babe,” she laughed, taking a sip of her slushee. Justin always knew how to make her laugh. He knew that she was nervous, as the evening wore on, it only worsened. Justin wouldn’t move from her spot, no matter how uncomfortable.
“Nah,” he waved her off, “I’m perfectly fine cosplaying as a fetus,”
She laughed. A good, guttural laugh that filled the air around them. Justin smiled at her, watching as she let herself relax for a second. She was going to be fine. She was going to absolutely kill it. She always did.
Justin rested his head on her thigh, still sipping his slushee. Crickets sounded around them, the whisper of horses in their stalls crawled over her skin. She peaked back to watch Cleo, who happily munched on her hay. The mare didn’t seem to have a care in the world.
“How high are those jumps?” Justin asked, turning your attention to the jumps in the arena. The overhead LED lights illuminated the course, silent and still. She shrugged, trying to eye a height.
“Maybe 4’? Possibly higher? It’s hard to tell from here,” she shrugged, planting a hand in his hair, curling a lock around her finger, “why?”
“Think I could clear it?” He asked, a hopeful twinge to his voice.
“What, you wanna jump one of those?”
“Sure,” he shrugged, sitting up, reluctantly sliding out of her grasp. “I could easily clear it,”
“Oh really,” she raised an eyebrow, shaking her head at him. He stood up from his bucket with a grunt, setting his slushee down on the bucket. He offered her his hand, helping her up.
“Only one way to find out,” he winked, dragging her towards the course. She didn’t know what his plan was, or what the end goal was, but as he marched towards the arena, she felt her worries dissipate. Maybe things would be okay.
They walked into the arena, and immediately Justin takes off his shoes. He surveys the course, as if he knows which jump comes first.
“Lay out a course, babe,” he nudged her, “I’m gonna pretend to be Cleo,”
She laughed. He couldn’t be serious.
“Okay, um,” she surveyed the course, and she found her line, “okay, so you’re gonna jump the brown picket fence, bending line to red and orange picket, and then rollback back to brown picket,”
Justin took a second to visualize the jumps. He eyed them with his eyes, his fingers pressed dramatically into his temples. He wanted to make her laugh, to make her forget about everything that was worrying her.
“Got it,” he nodded. He grabbed the hat off of her head, placing it on his. He claimed the backwards cap was him putting it in sports mode, whatever the hell that meant.
She pulled her phone out of her pocket, setting to record as he set himself up. She couldn’t believe he was doing this, and that he understood what the just told him to do. It was hot.
He steadied himself, adjusting the cap on his head. He bent his knees, getting himself in a runner’s position. His goal was to make her laugh, even if he ate shit.
“Go!” she laughed, and he was off to the races. He took off towards the first jump, and soared over it. He forgot mid stride what jump was next, but then he made a choppy turn towards the orange and red picket before making a sharper turn, coming towards the brown one.
And she was laughing the whole time. He took this so serious, and as he came back to her, a grin plastered on his face, she couldn’t help but laugh even harder.
“Okay judge,” he put his hands on his hips, “what’s my placing?”
“Second,” she laughed.
“Second? Babe that’s crazy,” he gasped, “I put my heart on that line,”
“You forgot the pattern mid stride,” she laughed, “your bending line was more like a 90 degree turn,”
He scoffed, of course in a playful manner. What mattered was that she was laughing, and that beautiful melody rang out into the night sky. He gave her a look, one she knew all too well. The way his eyes narrowed and his lips upturned into a smirk.
“No,” she shook her head, “don’t you dare,”
“What? I wasn’t gonna do anything,” he shrugged innocently. He pounced, scooping her up just as she put her slushee down. She squealed, being thrown over his shoulder. Justin patted her ass, jokingly, dramatically bouncing her around.
“Justin, put me down!”
“No can do,” he shook his head, parading her around, “you were laughing at me, gotta pay the price,”
And so she did. Justin carried her around the arena, dramatically bouncing her on his shoulder. Her laughs filled his ears, her breathless giggles making his stomach flutter. She was his beautiful girl. His talented, strong, and caring girl. He’d do anything to make her laugh like this, so carefree and genuine.
He finally sets her down, cupping her face in his hands. He kissed her, tenderly, as if each movement of his lips broke apart the remaining tension of her body. He pulled away, slowly, peering into her eyes.
“I love you,” he murmured, “and I’m so damn proud of you,”
“I love you, too,” she whispered before she captured his lips again. He’d always be there for her. He’d always be the one to guard her, to uplift her. He’d always make sure that she saw what he saw. A strong, talented woman who owned every arena she was in. A kind woman who made sure her horse was taken care of before anyone else.
Someone that anyone would be lucky to have, but unfortunately for everyone else, she was his and his alone.
🪄 warnings: SMUT, Sex on a PJ, lots of pet names, lovey Rafe, takes out his phone and records that sh!t, unprotected p in v, what’s a plot
📖 Rafe takes you on the his Private Jet
✨ You take a little breath as his fingers glide along your clothed slit. Rafe ghost circles on top of the delicate material. “And this fuckin’ pussy, baby.” You feel him smile against your lips as he touches your wetness. “I can’t get enough.” ✨
2K
Reader’s POV:
“Get over here,” he growls playfully, reaching for you and tugging you over. You giggle delightedly as you climb on, taking a seat on his lap. Rafe’s hands impatiently wrap around your waist. The next moment, his lips are on yours, kissing you deeply, tongues rolling slow.
“I love you, baby.” He hums, kissing you one last time before throwing his head back. “We’re alone. Isn’t it fucking nice?”
“So nice,” you whisper, lips greeting his skin, kissing him softly as you work up to his ear. Rafe’s strong hands skim lower, circling your ass before squeezing it. “So, Rafey…”
“Mmm… Y/N.”
“How private is this jet?”
He lets out an unholy chuckle, seizing your hips, drawing your body flush with his. “Very, very private, Y/N. What do you have in mind?”
You walk over to your weekend bag, grabbing a few things. “Hold onto these?” You walk over to him slowly, resting the cuffs in his hands. “Do you want to use these now or-”
“Is that even a question,” he cuts you off, a sinful smirk licked on his perfect lips as he pulls one side open with ease. His eyes flick to yours, making your heart skip a beat—icy blue, brimming with lust.
Rafe rises from his seat, body clashing with yours, hands working into your hair. His kiss is deep, tongue slipping through your lips again as he uses his grip to draw you even closer.
“I’m so addicted to you, Y/N…” His hand brushes your thigh, toiling higher, disappearing under your dress. You feel yourself start to throb. “Your voice; this fuckin’ body…” he groans.
You take a little breath as his fingers glide along your clothed slit. Rafe ghost circles on top of the delicate material. “And this fuckin’ pussy, baby.” You feel him smile against your lips as he touches your wetness. “I can’t get enough.”
“Fuck,” you whimper against his plush lips. Rafe bites down, giving yours a soft tug.
“Are you gonna let me fuck you anyway I want?” He groans.
“Any way you want – I’m all yours, Rafe.”
“I can’t wait to please you all weekend, Y/N… I want you to feel me next week.”
“Use me.”
He chuckles, darkly. “Hurry up, baby.”
You pluck out a pair of blood-red stockings, rolling them on, red lace trim, clutching your thighs. Eyeing yourself in the mirror, you take one last glimpse at your body, adorned in a mess of rouge lace and straps.
Shit. He’s going to lose his mind. Heels? He’d love that. You step into the black glossy pumps, feeling your excitement bubble over.
Roaming into the cabin, the lights are drawn low again, soft music plays, setting the perfect ambiance. Rafe turns, his gape greeting yours, sprawled back in the chair. “Holy fuck,” he mumbles, eyes rolling back, hastily moving to his feet.
He studies your body as he strolls toward you—nothing on his muscular frame but a pair of white boxer briefs. You study him as well, his hair drawn back, showing off his chiseled jaw. He wets his pouty bottom lip, eyes meeting yours again.
“I love you… Y/N. So fucking much.”
“I love you too, Rafe.”
His rough hands take a grip on your hips, pulling you nearer. He rests his forehead against yours, breathing softly with you. “I have never wanted anything as much as I want you.”
“I feel the same way,” you whisper, warmly.
“I can’t wait to please you, Y/N… With my hands, with my mouth, with my cock. Any way I can, as much as I can.”
“Don’t make me wait.” Rafe’s lips crash into yours, claiming your mouth, hungry and breathless. He nips at your lip again, harder, pulling out a breathy moan, making him echo the same.
He picks you up effortlessly, bringing you into his arms, bodies melding as one. You grind your hips into him, feeling the warmth of his skin against your crotchless panties, your essence transferring to his warm skin. Your kiss gets rougher, demanding more; Rafe matches your passion without hesitation.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby,” he mutters. “I wanna hear you scream my name.”
“Mmm… What if they hear,” you whisper, tongue skimming along his bottom lip.
“Let ‘em.”
Fuck, Rafe.
He sets you down, keeping you close, not wanting to lose contact. “Turn around,” he grunts. You climb onto the chair, cool leather against the heat of your bare skin, hands pressed against the back.
“Did you wear these so I could fuck ’em off, angel?” He snickers as he takes a grip on the spikes of your heels. You bite your lip and nod as your eyes lock with his. “Mmm… That’s my girl.”
He pinches the elastic of his boxers, working them off his body; cock stiff, smacking roughly against his tanned skin. Rafe’s focus shifts, watching his own hands as they work up the back of your calves to your thighs.
Rafe snaps the red lace against your skin, chuckling wickedly. He brushes your hair to the side, kissing you softly on the shoulder, hands working back down again. “Fuck me,” Rafe mutters as he sails two thick fingers along your soaked pussy making you moan. “So damn wet.”
You feel a loss of his touch, Rafe’s eyes are still on you as he steps closer. You look over your shoulder, offering him your wrists, resting them on the small of your back. He gives you a devilish smirk. “Mmm… Good fucking girl.” Rafe locks the metal. “Too tight?”
“Just right.”
“Beautiful.” His fingers trail your spine as he works his way to his knees, pressing a soft kiss against your bound hands.
He snatches your hips, drawing you nearer, adding a sway to your spine, giving him better access. Rafe praises you softly, the warmth of his words, hot against your arousal, sends chills across your body.
His tongue meets your sensitive flesh, gliding gently through your silk. You let out a needy whimper, resting your head against the back of the chair as you concentrate on his touch.
Fuck. He knows what he’s doing.
His tongue swirls around your entrance, teasing you for a moment before pushing deep. An airy cry slips your lips. “Rafe… Fuck, baby. That feels so good,” you groan.
Rafe’s lips lock on your sensitive bud, sucking and flicking his tongue. Your thighs start to quiver—your heart, is racing a little faster.
His hand trails up your legs. Mmm… Those fingers. You feel your body physically aching for them deep inside you, pussy throbbing in anticipation.
His hands pull back. You look about, pathetically; your breath quickly robbed as he plunges his cock into you roughly, body doubling over on the seat, making you cry out. Rafe tightens his grip on your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he drills into you again.
“Y/N… Mmm. So fucking wet,” he moans huskily, increasing his tempo, skin clapping skin as he bottoms you out completely. You feel his hand dive forward, working between your thighs.
“Oh my god,” you squeal as he runs quick circles on top.
Rafe slows his pace, rolling his hips skillfully, the smacking of your thighs is replaced with the sounds of his dick working in and out of your drenched pussy. He grabs the chain, pulling you back, working himself in at a different angle, the curve of his cock kissing your sweet spot.
“Yes, baby. Right there,” you groan.
“Y/N… You look so fucking good; so damn beautiful, baby. Can I take a picture? Please-”
“Take a video.” You look back at him sinfully.
“Fuckkk,” he mumbles as he continues to take you from behind. Rafe reaches over, grabs his phone, turning on the flash.
“I can’t wait to watch this every night we’re apart, Y/N… Look at you, princess. Look at this fuckin’ ass.” Rafe snaps his hips a little harder, making your curves bounce with each roll as he yanks the chain a little more.
You feel your pleasure start to build, your walls closing in around him. “Can you cum for me, baby girl,” he growls.
You answer with his name, releasing from your lips, pussy rippling around his cock. A burst of ecstasy courses through your veins. He doesn’t stop, keeping pace, working you through your orgasm; toes, curling, heels tumbling to the floor. He lets out a devilish chuckle.
“Rafe… Holy fuck,” you pant, drawing a shivering inhale as you feel the aftershocks of your orgasm. Rafe’s hips grind slowly, gliding effortlessly through your release. He lowers his phone, getting a better view. A smirk spreads on his lips as he gets the perfect shot; his long cock, pulling in and out, glistening with your wetness; capturing every noise.
Rafe shuts off the camera, tossing it to the little side table. You take over, grinding and throwing your ass back. “Goddamn,” he rasps, slapping your cheek.
“My turn.”
“Your turn, Y/N?”
“Mmm… Mhmm, baby.”
“Shit… How did I get so lucky?” He soughs as he opens the binds.
You look up at him through your lashes, taking the cuffs hooked on his finger. “Let me take care of you, Rafey.”
“I love you… Have I said that already?” His hands wrap around the back of your neck, pressing your mouth against his. Your mind is hazy, blissed out from your climax.
I can’t wait to make him feel the same.
“Sit,” you demand.
Rafe relaxes into the chair, leg pitched out, blue eyes luring you closer. “Hands behind your head.” He smiles lustfully, complying with your demands. His muscular arms flex as his fingers lock. You walk toward him slowly, climbing onto his lap again, reaching for his wrist.
He’s still eager to please, tongue grazing your nipple, capturing you between his rosy lips, sucking roughly. You grab his other wrist as he works to the other side.
Fuck, this man is heaven.
You stare down at him, bound and in your control. His dick is achingly stiff; cum, gathered on his tip.
Reaching over, you grab his phone, clicking record again, propping it against a champagne bottle. “Y/N… Jesus Christ,” he groans, biting back a moan as you slip to your knees.
Rafe’s lips part in anticipation as you near his cock, quickly licking a line up his shaft, eyes boring into his hooded gaze. You swirl your tongue around his velvety head.
Taking him to the back of your throat, you gag on his length, making his abs flex. The metal clinks as the cuffs tighten. Mmm… You like that? You do it again and again. “Y/N, fuck!” Rafe bellows. You moan onto his cock, hearing his lucid pleasure.
“Mmm… Suck it, baby. Just like that,” he pleads, tossing his head back. You drop your hands, gripping his thighs, feeling his muscles stiffen under your grasp. “You make me feel so good. Fuck me, Y/N. Please.”
You climb onto his lap again, clutching his dick in your fist, aligning yourself with his head, swirling as you meet his stare. “Use. Me,” he grunts. “I don’t wanna stop ’til you cum again,” Rafe whispers the words breathlessly against your lips as you sit down, sinking lower and lower on his cock, feeling the delicious stretch.
A soft whimper leaves your lips—a smile felt against your kiss. He knows you’re close. So fucking close.
Wrapping your hands around the back of his neck, you ride slowly. His addled gaze drinking in every angle, drunk on pleasure, wasted on the feeling. You slam a needy kiss against his mouth, incoherent words falling from your lips onto his.
“I’m almost there,” You gasp as you take hold of the chain between his wrists, tugging at it as you start to bounce.
“Y/N. Mmm… Shit.” His eyes slam shut, mouth falling open, head thrown back against the seat as he floods you with his seed.
“I’m gonna cum, Rafe,” you cry. He raises his hips, lifting you up, ramming into your cunt as your pleasure runs its peak. You hit your precipice, bliss surging through your system yet again.
Your body relaxes around him. Rafe crashes back down onto the seat, eyes lowering, watching as his climax slips from your pussy onto his swollen cock.
“Holy shit,” he huffs, releasing a satisfied breath. You reach for the cuffs, unhooking them listening as they fall to the floor. Rafe wraps his body in yours, sanctuary found in his arms as he holds you tight. You look into his eyes, a wide grin spreads on his lips. “I fuckin’ love you, baby.”
I let you all determine the free day piece so I can have a piece for every day of this little week and that resulted in a KibaHinaShino piece! Thank you all 🖤
@mahiroaikio said I could try drawing one of their artworks in my style, so I tried drawing their tf2 yamtien! 😊 click here to see their original art :D
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Jackson Storm has always been unstoppable on the track—until one mistake forces him to face the ghosts of his past. As he struggles to reclaim his dominance, his rival, Cruz Ramírez, becomes an even greater challenge, breaking through the walls he swore to keep up. Now, Jackson must decide: keep running or finally confront what he's feared all along.
I want to thank my dear friend @sapolina for making this beautiful cover ❤️
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