‎ ‎‎lili

i yap a lot about my hyperfixations 𐙚

[userhotd]

Aurélie 𐙚 19yo soul, she/her 𝜗ৎ shows and movies rewatcher, books reader, sophie thatcher’s lover girl, hightowers’ simp ღ

masterlist - rules - know about

MEMENTO MORI, MEMENTO VIVERERE

© userhotd ‎ ‎𐙚 don't copy , translate or repost my work without my consent. minors and w*ncest shipper dni.

[vlarrtrgryn]

WALKING DEAD EARLY SEASONS ⋆˙⟡

[userhotd]

she’s so beautiful, i’m in love

(source ; https://www.instagram.com/p/Da8jr5QmXv9/?img_index=3&igsh=eDY1dW5xeHAyOHFu)

[silkaurum]

THE SACREDNESS OF PRAYER

pairing: ormund hightower x betrothed .ᐟ reader

summary: you are to become the wife of a man whose fate is deeply intertwined with religion. you wish with all your heart to be worthy of your lord hightower. you ask him for a small mercy, to teach you to see the world through his eyes. ormund cannot help but bask in the feeling of pride as he watches you, folded in humble prayer

word count: 2.5k

tropes: religious themes ⋆ possessive .ᐟ ormund ⋆ dark undertones ⋆ tender moments ⋆ comfort ⋆ mutual respect

warnings: 18+ audiences only ⋆ sexual tension ⋆ mention of faith ⋆ possessive behavior ⋆ emotional intensity ⋆ mild anxiety ⋆ religious guilt ⋆ implied sexual desire ⋆ heated moments

thea's note: i didn't plan to make a reference to prince andrei bolkonsky, but when i finished writing the paragraph about the tree compared to the mighty man who embodies it, i realized i had. it was such a pleasure to write this fic, oh gods how appropriate is that exclamation here? and it became especially special because i wrote this for someone very sweet @fire-joestar <33

Walking through the lush, life filled gardens of House Hightower, you could not help but feel a light nervousness settling like grey ash in your heart. You paced along the neatly paved paths without any of the pride that many brides surely felt, preparing to claim these grounds as their own. You kept stopping with an internal anxiety that had already wrapped your chest in unpleasant metallic threads. Ormund, walking behind you, mirrored your steps, though he looked relaxed in contrast. His face was smooth, almost blissful. His blue eyes took in the sight of the garden with reverence, but it was nothing compared to the way he looked at you.

A chestnut tree spread its branches with a sense of dignity. The tree looked proud, full of color. Among the lush greenery, reminiscent of your future husband's house colors, lush white flowers peeked through, resembling candles. A sweet, almost honeyed aroma filled the morning air. Looking at the plant, you could not help but think how this garden reminded you of Ormund himself. He carried the same unshakable calm, the same majesty, with an air as if it meant laughably little. Lord Hightower wore a heavy velvet cloak in a deep emerald color. His body seemed tense almost all the time, as if he held an entire sky on his broad shoulders. In this, he reminded you of the crown of a majestic tree.

You awkwardly touched the cold silver of your earrings, adjusting them periodically, not because they sat unevenly, but because you wanted some way to calm yourself. The trinket was a recent gift from your betrothed. They were heavy, the lobes of your ears felt the pressure, like a promise that being the wife of the head of such a house would not be simple. The earrings swayed slightly and settled against your neck, kissing your skin with the points of their rays. Two little stars with seven points and pearls set in the middle. This generous gesture from Ormund had become a nagging thought for you. You wanted to be worthy of it, and that extended far beyond just the earrings. You wanted to wear seven pointed stars in your ears with the same honor with which he carried his faith. You wanted to be part of his world, steeped in beeswax and quiet, devoted prayers.

You were the middle daughter in your family, and perhaps because of that, you did not receive the same attention as your older sister. This applied not only to your parents but also to your septa. You did not want to blame that good woman for not instilling in you the necessary love for faith. But as far back as you could remember, you recalled fingers pricked by a needle more than hands folded in prayer. You felt somewhat detached from this world. You had never been particularly religious, and before, you had never even thought about it. But now, walking shoulder to shoulder with your future husband, Ormund Hightower himself, you could not help but ask yourself many questions about your previous life.

The head of House Hightower noticed how your expression had changed. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, as your head was covered in a white cloth like a dove's wing. Ormund could not help but admire you involuntarily. You looked so innocent and pure, like an angel descending from the heavens directly into his arms. The curve of your cheek was softly outlined, and the fabric clung to your beautiful face. Your gaze was captivatingly hidden beneath the shadow of your lashes. You could not have imagined that your image radiated so much temptation. You were a mystery covered in a patterned veil.

"You've grown quiet. Has something happened? Is it because of the wedding? Have you changed your mind?" Ormund chuckled quietly. You guessed he was trying to tease you sweetly, but his shameless nature pierced through this armor of sweetness very successfully.

You shook your head with a slight smile. This marriage was desired by both of you. It was almost surprising. When you were a very young maiden, you had already resigned yourself to an arranged marriage, because that fate had befallen many of your friends and acquaintances. Some of them married so young, and their husbands were much older, that you were involuntarily grateful to the gods each time for the love you shared with Ormund.

"I wouldn't refuse. Too much has already been done. It would be a shame if all the flowers prepared for the wedding went to waste."

The irony that slipped into your voice gave Ormund a slight thrill. Those rare moments when you teased him while still looking like such a pious lady made him weak. All good and proper thoughts left his head. Lord Hightower turned his head away, pretending that a neatly trimmed bush was occupying his attention. He did not allow himself to cross the boundaries of propriety, for later he would never forgive himself. Such sweet lies, convincing himself that he was not waiting for the wedding night as much as a starving man waits for food.

"But something is bothering you, isn't it?" Ormund rasped quietly, his voice hoarse from pent up emotion.

"I would like everything to go perfectly. I don't want to do something that will later become a constant reminder of my ignorance regarding religion."

"Ignorance is too strong a word, and I would say unworthy of you."

"Lord Hightower, you don't understand. I don't even know how to pray properly," you whispered with some desperation. These words had slipped from your lips, and you regretted not being able to hold them back. Your cheeks warmed with a blush that spread across your skin.

The man stopped and looked at you intently. Something predatory flickered in his spring like eyes. He smiled with the corners of his lips. You blinked in confusion. Shouldn't he be outraged? Did this not truly make you ignorant? But Ormund simply extended his hand to you silently. In this gesture, there was barely a hint of authority. You obediently reached for him. Something was pulling your body, tugging at the strings, forcing you to obey.

His hand covered yours, and it felt pleasantly right. His fingers were long and elegant, like swords forged by a skilled master, clinging to your fingers with a sense of ownership. Ormund still tried to hide the fact that you belonged to him no less than Oldtown. In his "my betrothed," there was a rough love. No one doubted that the marriage would take place, because it was the will of Lord Hightower.

"It's pleasant to be the first at something, hmm?" he purred quite ambiguously. You were slightly less innocent than he imagined, so you caught his hint. The upcoming wedding night troubled you no less.

You nearly gasped when you saw where you had ended up. You had walked through these gardens before, but you had never wandered into this spot. Before you stood a white marble gazebo with a dome of green stained glass and silver swirls that reminded you of ripples on seawater. There were seven columns, unsurprisingly, each representing a familiar figure. The silhouettes of the Seven bathed in golden sunlight, and their smiles at this time of day looked blessing and kind. The work was so masterful that you could make out every fold in their garments and every wrinkle on the faces of the statues. In the center of the gazebo stood an altar, a massive square polished at the edges, made of the same white marble but with graphite veins.

You froze, overcome with reverence. You could not believe that your future husband had brought you to such a sacred place. For you, this meant the same as opening his soul. Ormund gently urged you forward, or rather pulled you along, slowly ascending the low steps.

"This is not the sept, but I tried to make it a little like one. There is a little less strictness here and more freedom." Ormund nodded at the ivy that wrapped around the railings with its green tenacious paws.

"I think for a first time, it will do perfectly." His voice became deeper and quieter, as if he was afraid to disturb the peace of the Seven.

Lord Hightower's knees touched the cold floor. The cushion remained peacefully lying beside his feet. It was clear that he had never performed a prayer with anyone before. You pressed your hands to your chest. Unease gripped your entire spirit. The faces of the Seven could not set you up for confession, nor could Ormund who spoke so gently. His hair caught the light, glowing with copper threads, sparkling almost like amber.

"Come here, my lady. There is nothing to be afraid of." He insisted softly. Your cheeks warmed again. A bad, unrighteous feeling made the pit of your stomach clench into a tight knot.

How intimate it was to see the man who would belong to you kneeling before you. Ormund seemed ready to pray not to the gods, but to you alone. It would cost you nothing to step closer and run your hand through his thick hair. It would cost him nothing to leave a kiss on your stomach and travel lower.

You swayed and quickly sank onto the cushion he offered, afraid that he might hear your bold fantasies. Or were you already sharing one fantasy between the two of you as spouses?

"This might seem humiliating, but it is a posture of humility. Pride is a terrible vice, and how else are we to atone for it if not before the gods?" he whispered softly, like a gentle breeze against your trembling back.

His fingers picked up a thin wax candle, fingers that could easily break it in half, but they held it with the tenderness of a lover. He lit his candle. The flame danced smoothly, swaying from side to side. The glow of the lit candle played in your eyes. Ormund held his breath almost imperceptibly. A protective feeling spread through his chest. One of your locks slipped from under your headscarf and fell onto your soft cheek.

He cleared his throat hastily, realizing he had been caught openly devouring you with his eyes. Ormund offered you the candle so you could light your own, but he could not let go of your fingers. He squeezed your flesh with hidden passion. Desire clouded his mind. Would the Seven approve of him imagining biting your lower lip to push his tongue into your sweet mouth?

The marble face of the Mother now looked stern, and perhaps she was saving you from some foolishness right before your wedding, because Ormund pulled back, trying to straighten up. You watched the dance of your candles' flames standing close to each other. Two thin wax pillars desired each other no less than you and Lord Hightower.

"Place your palms together, warm them, feel the blood in you, that you are alive, and that it is thanks to the Seven, my lady." Ormund sighed quietly. He closed his eyes with extraordinary submission. With each new word, a composure awakened in him. He only occasionally glanced at you, checking how much you were giving yourself to the prayer or to his gentle commands.

"You can pray aloud. That is usually how it is done in the sept. That way you feel your involvement, and also that you are not alone, how faith fills you, making you the strongest person in the world. But you can also pray silently. That is your conversation with the gods. They will hear you because you are their daughter."

Lord Hightower whispered something completely unintelligible, but so tender that it made an indescribable impression on you. Your heart trembled, afraid of bursting. You were not praying. You were looking at your future husband without blinking. He was so devoted, so removed from the whole world, and the Seven, how beautiful he was! You forgot how to breathe. You wanted to immediately confess to the gods for all your sins, especially for the sin that had soaked into the skirt of your dress. Sometimes nature conquered any morality.

"Are you still worried about the upcoming wedding?" he suddenly asked, lazily opening only one eye like a cat. "You are not praying, dear."

"I am praying silently! And yes, I am worried, because I want everything to follow the strict traditions of your house." You began playing with your earrings again to occupy your trembling hands.

His blue eyes watched your nervous fingers. He was curious to feel your pulse, not just to run the pad of his thumb over your thin skin, but to warm your wrist with his lips, to trace the beating vein with the tip of his tongue.

"Everything will be as my wife wishes." Ormund swallowed. "And I appreciate that, my lady, your devotion. I swore to the Seven that my wife would lack nothing, that I would be everything to her that she desires."

You lowered your head so he would not see the wide smile that had appeared on your face. His words warmed you like strong Dornish wine.

Ormund approached without asking, lifting your chin with his fingers and kissed not your forehead or cheek, but your lips. His lips pressed against yours hotly and tenderly, his tongue tracing the outline of your upper lip, and you timidly allowed him to deepen the kiss with a shameless sigh. All you could do was part your lips a little more, letting your betrothed kiss you with pressure. His tongue slid against your inexperienced one. He was teaching you again, but this time there was no trace of anything as pure as prayer. Ormund's teeth grazed your soft lips, gently biting them and kissing them as if immediately comforting you, apologizing. Your moisture trickled down the inside of your thighs, which you pressed together to keep it from spilling onto the silk cushion.

You moaned pitifully, and that became something sobering for him. He did not pull away immediately. Ormund kissed you again, but tenderly this last time, unhurriedly sealing your swollen lips together. A wet thread stretched between your mouths, not allowing you to part so soon.

"The gods are merciful, as you can see, my lady." Lord Hightower whispered with eyes darkened and gleaming with arousal. "For I asked them for this."

You still could not calm your heart and your ragged breath, let alone the ache of your pussy craving sin.

Ormund did not look so agitated, or he hid it well. He meditatively dipped a sprig of hyssop into a bowl of water. With his brows furrowed in concentration, he ran the plant across your heated forehead. Water dripped onto your skin, but could not cool it.

Something vaguely told you that it would be different in the sept, certainly without that beastly kiss between prayer and aspersion, but your future husband looked as if he had done everything exactly as the rules you had so sweetly insisted upon required.

taglist: @lustedbby @pinkdoeweirdo @userhotd @rottenbites @ghostlybfgf @sedonasummer @risingraisin @icebearcucumber @baskettis @senatorpadmeamidala @sinarainbows @believeyourgalaxy if you want to be tagged, let me know .ᐟ

[userhotd]

OMG PURE ART, THAT’S SO GOOD 🙏😫

[elkwyre]

this pic always fries me #allies

[userhotd]

SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST

𐙚 JO HAVELLE

jealous! jo (hdc)

WORKS COMING SOON ….

© userhotd 𐙚

[userhotd]

JEALOUS! JO 𝜗ৎ HEADCANONS

jealous! jo who insists she doesn’t get jealous because “that’s middle school crap,” then spends the rest of the hunt glaring at the person who kept flirting with you.

jealous! jo who suddenly has an arm around your shoulders the second someone gets a little way too comfortable standing next to you.

jealous! jo who rolls her eyes every time someone laugh at your jokes. They’re not even that funny.

jealous! jo who starts finding excuses for the two of you to leave the room together before someone else gets your attention before her.

jealous! jo who tells herself she’s only keeping an eye on you because hunters should always watch each other’s backs. The way she never looks away is purely coincidental.

jealous! jo who hates hearing you say someone else’s name a little too often.

jealous! jo who catches someone checking you out from across the Roadhouse and suddenly decides she’d rather stand between you and the rest of the room.

jealous! jo who becomes ten times more sarcastic whenever your attention drifts toward someone else.

jealous! jo who claims she couldn’t care less who you spend your time with, yet always ends up sitting beside you anyway.

jealous! jo who keeps interrupting conversations just to remind everyone that she already knows that story about you.

jealous! jo who notices the second someone starts flirting with you, even if she’s halfway through cleaning a shotgun.

jealous! jo who pretends to tease you about your “admirer,” hoping you’ll immediately tell her you’re not interested.

jealous! jo who acts normal until someone touches your arm. Then suddenly she’s asking if you’re both ready to leave.

jealous! jo who would rather fight a nest of vampires than admit the reason she’s in such a bad mood is because you smiled at somebody else.

jealous! jo who always volunteers to be your hunting partner before anyone else gets the chance.

jealous! jo who starts remembering every detail about you just to prove herself she knows you better than anyone ever could.

jealous! jo who tells dean she’s “not jealous,” then literally asks him what he thinks that guy wanted with you.

jealous! jo who softens the second you reach for her hand without thinking, because maybe she was worrying over nothing after all.

jealous! jo who realizes her jealousy was never really about other people. It was about the terrifying possibility that someone else might make you happier than she could.

taglist : here to be add <3 (divider by @pixopix)

© userhotd ‎ ‎𐙚 don't copy, translate or repost my work without my consent. english isn’t my first language so sorry for any grammar mistakes or faults <3

[userhotd]

i end up disliking what i had write so just end up deleting it is, that’s my life 🥀

[cinncmcngxrl]

girls don’t want boyfriends. they want asks from their tumblr mutuals.

[puppiegracie]

the blep twins

[pixopix]

dark academia dividers pls???

Please credit @pixopix, likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[vrtualseraph]

black and pink gothic graphics pack? ♡ i hope you’re having a great day! your lowkey decora outfit is so cute!

black & pink gothic graphics 🦇🎀 stamps f2u w cred !

[wintrynightz]

Vampire!Dean Winchester x Vampire!reader pt2. 🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪

★ Before you found a way into his life, Dean loathed being immortal and he often contemplated on putting an end to it. But now he loves it, because it means being able to spend forever with you, which to him is heaven

★ Vampire!Dean has a strict moral code on not feeding on humans. His only exception being you. If you were to get sick he wouldn’t think twice on finding some poor human to hunt for you

★ Vampire!Dean loves your smell. After his heightened senses one of the only things to calm down is you smell

★ Vampire!Dean doesn’t like the idea of you spending time with other vampires. He doesn’t trust them and even less around you

[samwspn]

゛TAGLIST ⸝⸝.ᐟ @userhotd @heart-of-alex @dontlistentodaisy @ladyinthebloodychamber @vlarrtrgryn @gilmrres @sams-carhartt-jacket @deadbeatpup

[silkaurum]

Ormund Hightower, who feels desire for a married lady and can only be close to her in his dreams. He is consumed by shame because he is still a man of faith, and thoughts of another woman are the greatest sin weighing on his soul. It is vile and two-faced, but he thinks of you in the most improper way. He undresses you with his eyes, wondering what lies beneath all those silks. His imagination works in the most lavish way. He would love to fuck you right in front of your husband. Would your husband do anything about it? Ormund realizes his thoughts are so dark and unworthy, especially when you don't even suspect a fraction of the filth he has imagined in his sick mind. How can you smile so sweetly at a man who shamelessly pictures you in his enormous bed? Lord Hightower is more than certain that you would agree to be his lover, because your affection for him is obvious. But he would never do it. That would betray himself and the vows he made to his younger, not yet fully corrupted self.

[pittsick]

RAFE CAMERON ﹏ SAND ON SKIN.

cw ﹏ ( +18 ) mdni / no-plot smut fic. afab!reader. established relationship. petnames (baby). public sex (beach). exhibitionism / voyeurism risk. neck kisses. prone bone. praise. dirty-talking. breasts&nipples play. unprotected piv. creampie. playful teasing. casual intimacy. aftercare.

reblog is a creator's best-friend, thank you!!

“Shit—Stop moving, baby, I’m trying to—” Rafe groaned in your ear, one of his hands moving from the warm sand to grab your hip, lifting it up as his pelvis pressed against your ass.

You knew it was bad to have sexual activity on the beach; anyone could see you, walk by, call the cops. But when Rafe pulled you away from the party to a more private area, you couldn’t stop yourself anymore. You had thought about it through all the party, even when laughing and talking to your friends. 

But now, hidden by rocks and moans muffled by the sound of waves crashing close, it didn’t matter anymore. Rafe hadn’t lost any time when taking your mini-dress off, leaving your bikini on just because it turned him on. He made you lay your stomach against the sand, grain sticking to your slightly humid skin, and just pulled your panties to the side as he laid on top of you, prone bone style. 

Rafe pulled his swimming shorts down enough to free his hard, leaking cock. The tip was angry red, begging for attention, slit glistening with pre-cum. He groaned, pumping himself once or twice before wrapping his hand around the base. 

His blue eyes lowered to your wet pussy, the thought of him fucking you here had aroused you more than you wanted to admit. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty like that. Fuck, if you could see yourself.” Rafe cursed and you sighed, pushing your hips backwards to feel him. He rubbed his bulbous head against your slick folds, parting them just to gather wetness onto his tip. “Rafe, please—” You whined at him, then. 

But instead of listening to you, he slapped his hard cock against your cunt, creating skin-slapping-skin noises that were eaten by the ocean. You gasped each time his cock slapped back against your folds and clit, squirming under him due to the feeling. Rafe’s free hand moved to your ass, squeezing a cheek in his strong palm just to push it to the side, giving him a better view of your pussy.

“M’going in now, okay? Going to fill that pussy up.” He said and you didn’t have time to reply before feeling his tip press against your slick hole, giving the muscles a push before entering you. “Fuck! Ah, yeah… S’good.” You hummed, your hands moving into the sand, mindlessly playing with it. Rafe hissed as his cock slowly pushed inside you, stretching your gummy walls apart. 

You relaxed your body for him to go deeper until he couldn’t reach more, his tip almost kissing your cervix. You gasped, eyebrows furrowing in a mix of uncomfortable and pleasure. Rafe waited for you to get used to the intrusion before he lowered his upper body to press against yours; his torso and your back meeting.

“Y’feel so good, baby. You’re squeezing my cock so good.” He groaned in your ear. His arms moved to rest in the sand near your face. 

His cock throbbed inside you, pressing against your slick walls and making you pulsate. “Rafe, please, move now…” You said, fist closing and relaxing a few times. Your boyfriend hummed, his head coming closer to yours just so he could move his arms under yours and his hands moved to your chest. You felt the fabric of your bikini top being pushed to the side, the two triangles not hiding your tits anymore. “Let me see you. You’re too pretty. You couldn’t even wait home for us to fuck, uh?”

You didn’t reply but gasped when Rafe pushed his hips away and back against yours, how cock sliding back and forth. His pace was slow at first but he did go deep. His warm palms groped your chest, squeezing the fat of your tits, fingers rolling around your perky nipples. His breathing hit onto the skin of your neck, giving you goosebumps. 

He was so close that you could smell his perfume; mango, vanilla and a hint of cigarette from the ones he smoked. The sensation of the sun hitting down on your skin, the sand sticking to your humid body and how Rafe was fucking you was almost too much for your brain to keep up, but your boyfriend had a way to tether you to Earth. “Speak to me, baby, feels good, uh? Knowing anyone could see us right now? Walk by to see me fuck you into the sand?”

His words made you moan, not afraid of the volume of your voice with the waves hiding it. Rafe’s cock slid inside you, his mushroom tip rubbing against your g-spot due to the prone bone position he had you in. Your thighs shook, hips pushing backwards to feel more of him. Your inner-thighs were a mess—juices coating the skin, making sand stick there.

“Please, fuck, it feels so good… Rafe, keep going.” You replied to him, your head rolled backwards which gave him the opportunity to kiss your neck. He groaned while picking up the pace, your body melting into the ground with the force of his hips. 

A gasp left your mouth as your boyfriend’s fingers kept rolling around your hardened nipples, and then, he decided to pinch them. Your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. “Oh God, yes! I love that—Do it again!” You voiced at Rafe and you heard a chuckle leave his mouth.

Another pinch, another gasp. “You like that, baby? Like me taking care of you?” He said, his pelvis slapping against your ass as he fucked you both harder and faster.

Your brain had muffled all background noises since the sexual activity started, but you could clearly hear the music from the party happening not far away and the laughter of your friends who were probably under alcohol substances.

A rather hard thrust made you break out of your thoughts, crying out Rafe’s name when he rutted his hips against your ass, creating loud skin-slapping-skin that mixed with the squelching of your wet pussy. The hands you had in the sand moved to grab at Rafe’s biceps, nails burying inside his strong muscles. He hissed, another chuckle leaving him. “That’s it, baby. Show me how much you like when I fuck that pussy. You love it, don’t you? Such a good girl.”

You moaned, nodding your head without an answer to give. Your boyfriend’s fingers pinched your nipples again, tugging on them just to roll the bud with his fingers. 

“Please! P-Please! I love it so much, Rafe!” You voiced, tits bouncing against the sand due to the force of his thrusts. You could feel the warmth coursing through your body, that inevitable sensation of an orgasm showing the tip of its nose. The grip you had over Rafe’s biceps tightened which made him hiss quietly into your ear. “Coming! I need to come!” You added, mouth wide open.

Rafe’s balls slapped against your ass as he took more support on his knees after your words, his hands moving away from your tits just to press flat against the sand. He groaned, head falling against your shoulders.

“I know baby, I know. Come for me, yeah? Be a good girl, I know you are.” He said, making your ass bounce with the force of his thrusts. His bulbous tip rubbed against your g-spot and you could only cry out when the orgasm took over your body.

“Yes, fuck! Coming!” You gasped at your boyfriend, eyes wide. Muscles contracted, body squirmed, toes curled. 

Rafe’s cursed as your gummy walls clenched around his cock, your juices coating his length and sticking to his base and balls. He only needed a few more thrusts to bury himself all the way inside you, shooting his creamy, thick load into your pussy. A raw moan left his throat as he came, sweaty forehead shifting to your nape. “Fuck… Fuck, she squeezed me so good I couldn’t stop myself.” He spoke after a moment.

You both stayed in that position for what seemed like hours (even if it was only seconds) before Rafe slowly pulled out of your sloppy hole. Semen leaked out immediately, thick globs disappearing in the sand before your boyfriend helped you up on your feet. 

Rafe had a smile on his face, one that usually meant trouble and after what you had both done, you didn’t even question it. “Want to get cleaned up in the water?” He just asked, one hand lifting to brush sand away from your sweaty cheek. You bent to grab your dress before nodding your head at his question. 

“Yeah, I don’t want to go back to the party all sweaty and smelling like sex.” 

Rafe didn’t reply but suddenly grabbed you by the waist, throwing you on his shoulder before walking toward the water. You laughed loudly, slapping his back. “Get me down, you asshole! I don’t want to ruin my hair!”

“Nah, don’t care. Should have thought about that before letting me fuck you in the sand.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

taglist ﹏ @userhotd @nekkiotine @222col @ravensreadingrecs @prismozo @lvve-talks @kathh01 @dumbbandpoetic @hisfavoriteweepingangel @i-cant-stfu @bluestrd @coochiemama3000 @eepwtf @domingodeaan @peachyparkerr @jiminie-08 @rafeswriter @stqrfirez @iheartrosalia @cxlt-lamb1 @kill3ill @dolcefloral @avasarchve @chronic-fangirl-222 @filthgf @blessort @rottndeer @voidsuites @aerangi @agustd202204 @cup1dssorrow @mimisitaugu @bitemysin @s4yuriii @puppyinlace @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @doll2kiss @m4rk-ofcain @beausling @aphrahdite @nuitts @girldisrupted @wiishies @lovelyy-moonlight @melodypvnk @lovelorncapricorn ( to be added )

[userhotd]

not an anonymous letter, but nonetheless i want to say that i love you very very much, my dear lili. wishing you a good weekend mwah 🤍🤍🤍🤍

aww theia omg i love you too so so so much, a lot of kisses and hugs for you my dear MWAH 😽🤍🌷

have a good weekend too 🤍🤍