#parting glances the movie

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Bengiyo Queer Cinema Syllabus

Not to sound repetitive but, I had a busy couple weeks, but finally had a second to return to @bengiyo’s queer cinema syllabus. I am currently working my way through Unit 4: Heartbreak Alley, the totally light-hearted, definitely not agonizing section of the syllabus where I get to watch countless acts of violence be committed against queer people. Thank fuck I have Lesbians waiting for me at the end of this unit. The films in Unit 4 are: Bent (1997), Strange Fruit (2004), Boys Don’t Cry (1999), Brokeback Mountain (2005), Parting Glances (1986), Philadelphia (1993), The Living End (1992), Holding the Man (2015), Jeffery (1995), and Boys on the Side (1995).

Today I will be talking about

Parting Glances (1986) dir. Bill Sherwood

[Run Time: 1:30, Available: tubi and fubo, Language: English]

Summary: As Michael and Robert, a gay couple in New York, prepare for Robert's departure for a two-year work assignment in Africa, Michael must face Robert's true motives for leaving while dealing with their circle of eccentric friends, including Nick, who is living with AIDS.

Cast: 

John Bolger as Robert

Richard Ganoung as Michael 

Steve Buscemi as Nick 

__

Well, I have to say this was very much not what I was expecting for the first AIDS related movie of the syllabus. After some pretty hefty violent deaths of queer characters in the first half of Unit 4, I was very much anticipating the heart wrenching tragedies to continue immediately once I hit the AIDS epidemic portion. But Parting Glances very much subverted my expectations of what I was walking in to, because honestly…so much of it was lovely. 

It’s not that tragedy is not a part of this movie, it is, it’s just hidden under the layer of friendship, community, and love that feels like the core theme of the film. I am thinking about the party at Joan’s and how much happiness and celebration was happening there, with community abound, and yet how Michael kept telling people they should call Nick because he would appreciate it, showing just how much Nick has lost of his own community since his HIV/AIDS diagnosis. 

I really loved how real these relationships to one another felt, the way that Michael and Robert were playful with each other, the way that Nick sat on Michael’s lap so casually for a few minutes when Michael cooked him dinner, I loved the conversation Robert had with his ex-girlfriend, the young and hopeful queer boy who wished to live forever. I just loved watching the queer community be a queer community. 

Even in the moments that get a little dour, where Michael gets especially weepy with Nick, those scenes did not make me sad, did not destroy me the way other films in this syllabus have, because that is just grief. Grief is a mighty and terrible thing, but I find beauty in it as well. I find beauty and loveliness in the fact that those tears came from Michael finally admitting to Nick that he loved him, that Nick got to hear himself that he was loved, especially when so many people seemed to have fallen away from him after his diagnosis. I find comfort in the conversations about death that Michael and Joan have together, because those are conversations I’ve had, they feel familiar, they feel like a natural part of life, perhaps they should not have to feel those points so soon, but Nick himself is right, living forever is the only thing none of us can do. 

I really loved that we saw Nick when he was at a stage in his illness where he was simply being careful, but was still full of life, energetic, that he was able to be a support system for Michael and was not only being tended to. We know what is coming, but we are not made to see it. I was really in to what the film did with it’s use of ominous backing track, that Nick could hear it, that it felt like the progression of his illness, that it felt like a sense of impending doom, a cloud that hangs over Nick. 

Throughout a lot of this film I found myself thinking about The Inheritance Part One & Part Two, a play written in 2016 based off of the book Howard’s End by EM Forster. I saw this play a few years back and was lulled in to a false sense of security that this would not be a play about AIDS because it was set in the relatively modern day with a focus on younger queer characters, but ohhhhhhh how wrong I was. Towards the end of the first part, we hear a story from a character named Walter, an older gay man that lived in the same building as the main characters, and he recounts the story of his life, how his husband, Henry, built a farm outside of New York city for the two of them to live in…right around the time that AIDS started decimating the area. How that distance still was not good enough for Henry so he would leave on business trips, because his fear of catching AIDS was so strong. 

Walter tells the story of when he went back in to the city for the first time, and ran in to a friend he used to know, who had acquired AIDS and was on the brink of death. He talks about how when Henry was away, he brought that kid to the farm Henry had built to hide from AIDS, and Walter cared for that boy until he died. Walter talks about doing that again and again and again and again, dozens of times, he would go in to the city, bring a friend back home, and care for them until they passed. 

^[sidebar: I very much do not like Robert]

Part of the play ends with Walter being asked what it was like at that time, Walter asks the main characters to name someone they know, they give a name, he says “they’re dead. Give me another name, he’s dead”. For what felt like minutes, name after name after name is called and name after name after name is dead. When I saw that scene I broke down in the theater, I cried for the entirety of the walk back to the train station, I was brought to the brink of tears at the thought of that scene for a month after I saw the show. 

I mention this because it was all that I could think about while watching Robert and Michael interact with one another, while seeing this plot unfold. Robert fleeing New York while Michael stayed to care for his dying friend. Knowing that Walter and Henry stayed together after all was said and done, after Henry had stopped running from reality, and the death rates had slowed; then seeing Robert decide not to go to Africa, and how Michael did not show any signs of planning to break up with Robert knowing, despite knowing how Robert felt too settled, how Robert had chosen to go, despite knowing that Robert was running from loss, and running from being a support for Michael when the love of his life finally dies. 

So despite the fact that Parting Glances didn’t evoke the same feelings, though I felt like overall it was a relatively upbeat, uptempo, gentle film, the current underneath it all, the dying underneath it all, the tragedy is right there but it is just out of reach. 

Favorite Scene 

I think my favorite scene is when Joan and Michael are laying in bed together, holding stuffed animals at Robert’s going away party while they just casually talk about death and dying. It just felt very much like a conversation I have had with my best friend on multiple occasions, especially lately because we've had a number of deaths happen in our lives recently. And yes, my friend and I both match the type of conversation part this scene, and also the beating each other up with stuffed animals part of this scene.

Obviously we do not spend enough time with the other characters at the party to know exactly what is going on in their lives, and there is not doubt many if not all of them have lost loved ones to AIDS, but we know that Joan and Michael are really the only two people who go and visit Nick, and it feels so symbolic of the weight that they are shouldering caring for their dying friend to have the only two people who have not cut themselves off from Nick be sitting together, in another room away from all the other gay attendees, discussing, speculating, joking about death. 

Favorite Quote

We all know the real right answer is: “Straight men are jerks. Gay men are jerks. Straight women are jerks. That leaves lesbians and they are off in their ivory towers laughing their heads off at the rest of us. I should’ve been a dyke” 

But I am going to go for the more serious:

“...look at the others, waiting, wondering if some innocent moment of pleasure long past can set them up with the ultimate form of [German word my subtitles did not state]...  I’d like to stage a piece in which all of the performers are people who are terminally ill, can you imagine the intensity, the concentration, the purpose”

This is said off-handedly in a conversation between Joan and a heterosexual male artist who was attending the party. I put it here for two reasons: a) the first half is a very succinct commentary on the state of the queer community (at least who were at the party) and feels like general commentary about the movie’s premise as a whole. Especially because Nick talks about how he didn’t realize how long the gestation period of HIV was, and by the time he started taking protective measures it was already too late. b) because the second half is just the most pretentious, absolutely mindless, careless, and shitty thing to say to someone who is actively losing a friend to a terminal illness. This fucking hetero artist came in to a room full of queer people and decided that dying people would be great to put in to his next project for ~The Vibes~ and I love that comment so much because first, it shows how much he Does Not Get It, and second because of how much disgust is baked in to Joan’s “Excuse me” as she leaves before he can finish his thought. 

Because to say that to someone who is watching loved one after loved one after loved one die before their eyes is an absolutely disgusting thing to do (in my opinion). 

Final Score

8/10

Up next, Philadelphia (1993)

#bengiyo queer cinema syllabus #queer cinema syllabus #parting glances #parting glances the movie #parting glances (1986) #unit 4: heartbreak alley

[blueskittlesart]

deeply refreshing to see someone critical of Swift who also like, genuinely likes her. Like i'm neutral to positive on her, but the online discourse has been absolutely rancid. flipping between "Taylor Swift has never done anything wrong ever and she's a fucking genius" and "Taylor Swift is the worst lyricist of all time and also a bad person" is exhausting, so thank you for like. nuance or something lmao

not to make it serious for a sec but i genuinely think that being able to like things that are bad is really important. like I think that it's an important skill to be able to look at something and see what you personally enjoy about it and then take a step back and acknowledge that objectively it's flawed. and to also be able to acknowledge that liking something isn't necessarily an identity or a moral stance. and i think that fandom space in general could really benefit from more people taking the time to learn how to do that. it's okay to like things that are bad

#people ask me sometimes why ill occasionally talk about something i like and then go 'but it's bad' and the answer is usually because it is #i love teen wolf. i love genshin impact. i love detective conan. and i fucking LOVE taylor swift. that doesnt mean theyre good #it just means i like them. and recognizing their flaws actually helps me better identify what i like about them! #it's like. in my mind bad > good is the x axis and i like it > i dont like it is the y axis yk. they're not mutually exclusive #tldr it's not that serious. we can all relax a little #irt taylor swift i do also think she has done some real harm to her fans in enabling them to deflect all criticism of her as misogyny #and i don't think it's fully the fault of these people who are parroting that response bc so much of her marketing has deliberately #reinforced this idea that to be a swiftie is to be a part of a sisterhood and that any attack on taylor is an attack on all of those women #who are in that in-group. when that's obviously not the case. but she's marketed herself as. for lack of a better term. 'girl music' #to the point where it makes her fans feel as though any criticism of the music or the woman responsible for it is an attack on their #personal experience of womanhood/girlhood/sisterhood/etc. and that's how you get all of thess bad-faith accusations of misogyny #i don't necessarily think this was her deliberate goal with her marketing tho because like. on first glance such a strong sense of communit #among fans sounds like a great thing. the friendship bracelets i got at the eras tour movie are really genuinely special to me. #but it does present a problem when your fans are unable to separate how they feel about the community and experience your music has fostere #from how they feel about you as a person. especially when you are a billionaire who absolutely CANNOT be above criticism in this economy #anyway. tldr i love taylor's music and i don't think swiftie hivemind is as deliberately malicious as it may seem #but it's obviously necessary to be able to take a step back and look objectively at what you're participating in. #anyway stream ttpd or don't idc <3 #taylor swift

[deejayponethree]

I still need to do color palettes but for now. Horse moment

#cricket doodles #encanto #encanto mlp au #mlp #my little pony au #mirabel madrigal #luisa madrigal #isabela madrigal #dolores madrigal #camilo madrigal #antonio madrigal #They're alicorns bc their canon magic status makes them unique and that would be hard to communicate if they just got their cutiemarks #Speaking of which they all get their cutiemarks and become alicorns when they open their doors #Which is why Mirabel is an earth pony without a cutiemark for a while #She doesn't become an alicorn at the end of the movie but she does get her candle cutiemark when she puts the knob in the new front door #symbolizing her fully realizing that she's still part of her family and how she's the one who brought them together #Also Mirabel is the only one who wears a skirt which means at first glance you wouldn't be able to tell if she had a cm or not #Which also shows her insecurity #my art #crossover

[thinasadlme]

I am the number one Parting Glances fan

#i love this movie so much #yes this is part of my steve buscemi obsession #steve buscemi #parting glances #parting glances 1986 #eyy it me #myart

[sapphireshorelines]

Lesser known LGBTQ+ movies I love

memento Mlmori (1999)

fried green tomatoes (1991)

parting glances (1986)

murmur of youth (1997)

his (2020)

#film blog #memento mori #fried green tomatoes #parting glances #murmur of youth #his 2020 #lgbtq movies

[serauncia]

Parting Glances

1986

#lgbtqiia+ #gay film #1980s #1980s movies #steve buscemi #parting glances

[queerinfilm]

Steve Buscemi’s Queer Roles:

🎥 Parting Glances (1986)

Nick is struggling with HIV, and his ex-boyfriend, Robert, comes to comfort him.

🎥 Love In The Time Of Money (2002)

(Technically not gay (per say) but this does happen, so…)

#steve buscemi #queer characters #movie #gay #lgbtq+ #parting glances #1980s

[stupidpop]

INTERSTELLAR⁉️

#I tell this story constantly but #We watched that movie in my astronomy class in high school #I wept. #And i was the only one who cried #I remember so vividly that movie touching a very deep part of my heart #And glancing around the classroom #And nobody else was crying. #so embarrassing!!! #Then the following year in my principles of technology class the same exact thing happened.

[shadowiie]

I'm glad I'm not the only one who doesn't like Sonic's IDW characterization, he comes off as too naive and never learns his lessons, despite knowing what disastrous consequences his blind "kindness" can have. And people say this is the best Sonic? Don't make me laugh.

People are allowed to have their own personal preferences, but MAN is IDW Sonic not my personal preference

its weird too, because this sort of blind kindness is something Sonic just. doesn't do in the games?

The guy who trapped Erazor into a lamp for a thousand years (something notable because of how much Sonic values freedom), erased Solaris from existence, doomed Camelot to end, not to mention constantly foils Eggman plot after Eggman plot, is not someone who blindly chooses kindness for every answer.

Part of his appeal for me is that he DOESN'T do that. He doesn't ask others to change or become good, and if someone isn't going to listen to any of the words he says, why would he bother wasting his breath trying to convince them? Sonic just stops talking and fights!

It doesn't matter what's morally "good" or "evil" to him, he does what he wants! Place all your bets on the one you think is right :P

#ask #Anonymous #can you tell secret rings is THE game that made Sonic my scrungly #i never got as many spin butterflies with this man until i watched SatSR #and all of a sudden i understood the appeal #part of what makes sonic special is that he DOES like to relax. that he IS actually pretty emotionally mature. #that despite being the hero. he doesnt see himself that way #and will defy authority and everyone around him if thats what he sees as right #i like the complexity of his character. and honestly? i wouldnt have it any other way #its part of why the sonic movie didnt appeal to me as much as it seems it did to everyone else #the sonic i fell in love with is the mature. carefree sonic from the games #not the energetic child people see him as at first glance #god i fucking love sonic #i love sonic so fucking much #okok

[shivunin]

I missed you reblogging the Wholesome Ask! So if it's not late…

7 and 20 for Emmaera, and 31 and 39 for Salshira? :)

Are you kidding? I love to gush about them :) Thank you so much for asking!

(The ask meme, just in case)

7: What is their favourite movie, or a movie they would really enjoy?

This was the hardest one to answer T.T

Emma has two hidden facets: she is a closet romantic, and she can really hold a grudge. So she would either be really into sweet romance movies or revenge flicks (for the catharsis).

I think the one that best combines these elements is The Princess Bride, so there you go: that would be her favorite movie :) She would eat sweet popcorn and cry every time Buttercup thinks Wesley has been killed. And cheer every time Inigo kills the six-fingered man. (and fall asleep during the credits so poor Cullen has to carry her to bed and clean up all the popcorn later, bless him)

20: What is their hidden talent? Is that a skill they’ve been practicing since childhood or just something they happen to know and never had the chance to show? Besides, was it something forced upon them, taught by someone close, or they picked it up themselves? Which new skills they would really like to learn? 

Emma is exceptionally good at memorizing stories and pieces of writing. When she was young, her dad would take her along to Elvhen ruins and they would try to take charcoal rubbings and explore as much as possible. Sometimes, she would have to wiggle through openings too small for him. When it wasn't possible to copy down pieces of writing, she'd have to memorize it, then climb back up and tell him. It was such a useful skill (and the Dalish already have such a strong oral storytelling tradition!) that she kept honing it over her life.

Now, she can usually recall most of the words from a piece of writing she's seen within the last day or so, and if she doesn't know exactly what it said she can usually tell you where on the page you can find the information you're asking about. She's pretty good at memorizing verbal messages, too, which is a great skill but very annoying if you're trying to win an argument against her.

Emma was really interested in the Astraria when she traveled with the Inquisition. I think she would love to know more about reading the stars, or even navigating by them. Astronomy in general really appeals to her, because so many of the stars have stories of their own.

31: What would make them blush?

Actually, Salshira can sort of blush on command. All she has to do is think about the time she ran off with her mother's underthings on wash day and got them stuck in the tree. The whole clan stood around scolding her while she tried to climb the tree to retrieve them and it was really embarrassing. She still calls this memory up when she needs to give the impression that she's blushing for real.

But genuinely blushing? It's really rare, because she has a strong alcohol tolerance, but she gets very flushed when she's drunk. Also, when someone genuinely compliments her skills she might blush (Dorian complimented the way she cast a fire spell once and he used so many words and was so specific that she finally covered her face and told him to stop because she couldn't take any more). Compliments about her appearance have no effect, however.

39: If they could go back in time, how would they reassure their child-self about the future?

"One day, we'll be strong enough to make choices for ourselves. I know how it feels, but love is not a trick or a cage. Worrying about it, waiting for it---that's just making all your days about something that may or may not happen. Don't worry about being trapped; look at me---what cage could hold us? Life is long. Leave the cave behind and step into the light. There's so much still to do, and we're going to see the world."

#ask meme #wholesome ask meme #emmaera lavellan #salshira lavellan #thank you so much for asking! #sorry it took me a bit i've barely been home the last few days and i wanted to type it on the computer #i am going to ask you too as soon as I can glance around and see what you've already answered :) #ooh also i want to add that emma is a very vocal movie watcher #like she gasps loudly when something surprising happens and awwwws at cute parts #it's endearing but it is the reason they don't go to theaters much because other people will shush her

[j-exclamationmark-l]

Was watching John Oliver's video about student loans yesterday morning as it was a holiday. Partner hobbles downstairs, says movie tickets are on sale, let's go see Dune 2. I wasn't a huge fan of the first one but he really wanted to go so I said sure.

I tried really hard to like it, but ultimately, I did not care about a single thing that happened in that film. I felt way more invested in John Oliver's video in the morning. I felt so much more for the woman who joined the military and had student loan payments automatically withdrawn from her account but the computer always withdrew a single penny short so it actually didn't register any of her payments than for Timothee Chalamet and his obsession with worms and then whispering and shouting randomly. I just don't get that movie... maybe the books make more sense?

#dune 2 #personal #i honestly feel like talk to me broke my brain #i have such high standards for movies now #not a single second of talk to me felt wasted #not one scene felt extra or boring or like it could be cut #not one word of dialogue #not one glance #not one gaze was meaningless #every single action and word and camera shot felt weighted and heavy and meaningful #and dune felt so watered down and meaningless in comparison #that movie did NOT need to be three hours long #talk to me felt like a hearty meal #dune felt like cheetohs but without the cheese dust just the styrofoam part #ive never read the dune books but ive heard so much good about them #i cant help but feel like this is the seventh grade honor student's book report about it #like sure #maybe good for a certain grade or class #but nothing compared to how thoughtfully put together Talk to Me was #talk to me was realistic #but also carefully planned art #dune was like duuude let's recreate my favorite scene from the book where he fuckin rides the sandworm #and its like the biggest and bestest sandworm #and even the planet's natives are like duuude noooo thats too big #but hes all like yeeaahhh

[missweber]

I loved all of the celebrity cameos and name-dropping in Glass Onion, but the more I think about it, the more I realize how it plays into the characterization of Miles and Blanc.

Miles keeps mentioning how he has hired people like Gillian Flynn, Philip Glass, Banksy, etc. to create things for him. And we get to see how Serena Williams is on-call as a personal trainer for his guests. But...

When Blanc quickly solved the mystery game Miles had set up, my first thought was that it was really contrived and not well-crafted. The Hourly Dong was minimalistic, yes, but not Glass-like. As for the Piece-of-Shit dock, it didn’t seem very Bansky-ish (at least to me). It looked more like a generic ice sculpture than anything - interesting at first glance, but not really much beyond that.

Then, we have Serena Williams literally phoning it in as a personal trainer. She’s content to sit there and read, as she’s getting paid whether or not she actually does any training.

Miles is quick to drop these names as if all of these talented people are part of his entourage, but the quality of their work-for-hire demonstrates that they don’t give a shit about him and/or actively dislike him.

In sharp contrast, we have Blanc, who is actually close friends with people like Angela Lansbury, Kareem Abdul Jabbar, etc. These people are close enough to him to play online games with him and worry about his well-being. In fact, they’re good enough friends that Blanc’s partner can complain to them about how Blanc hasn’t left the bath for a week.

All in all, it’s a little thing in the grand scheme of the movie, but it does show just how much thought has gone into the characterization of the two male leads.

#glass onion #glass onion spoilers

[thinasadlme]

me when only my house fanart got any kind of interaction 

#el oh el #im not mad im not upset #nah but i just really liked how that parting glances fanart turned out but it's such a niche movie i wasn't really expecting anything #eyy it me

[luveline]

𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can). 2k words. requested here

cw fem!reserved/shy!reader, first kiss, heavy kissing, mutual pining, eddie being a hot dork

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Some people (Steve) call Eddie your loser boyfriend, while other people (the girls at work) call him the rockstar. 

You see both sides of him now. 

“Sweetheart!” he calls, the passenger seat window rolled down, his voice strong where he shouts behind the wheel. The van bumps the curve, leaving a sanguine line of rust in its wake and a creak to make everybody on the sidewalk wince. 

“Hello,” you call back. 

The van hums. You wait for him to be at a definite stop before you approach, hands on the open window, leaning up so as to see him best. It’s not just a usual date night tonight, Eddie’s taking you to Indianapolis for a rock show, and he’s dressed the part. “Woah, you look cool,” you say, bravely, wondering if that’s the right thing to say. It’s undoubtedly true —he’s slicked his curls with mousse to define them and leave them pitch black in accordance with his eyeshadow, dark and tapped into his lash line. The top he wears is incredibly tight, carving the softer lines of his abs for anyone to see, and his black jacket is ripped in places to expose the ink of his tattoos. “Are they multiplying?” 

“What?” he asks, grinning at you. “Are you getting in? It’s freezing!” 

“Your tattoos,” you explain, opening the door and popping up into the van with one shoe on the step. 

“Shit, you wanna see?” 

You’re not scared of Eddie, you just like him. He doesn’t worry you, doesn’t pressure you, nothing nefarious about him. He’s pretty, he’s considerate, and he does stuff like this, peeling out of his jacket to flex his arm at you and show you the Saran wrapping around his bicep. “Like that one?” he asks.

He has nice arms, and they’re all the better for his painful obsession. His newest one is difficult to see well under the wrapping. He notices you squinting and moves it up, tape pulling his skin. 

“Another bat?” you ask. 

“Not cool?” 

“So cool,” you disagree. This bat is unlike the others on his arm, which are small and simple in comparison. This one is heavily detailed and very dark, fangs in small triangles bared. The eyes aglow. The skin around it is red. “Did you get that today?” 

“On a whim. Still wanna date me, or is it getting to be too much?” 

You can’t answer him, and he knows that. You’re not very good at navigating intimate conversation or circumstance, though you like him, and he must know that too. Or he must really like you. Your dates have been chaste. Only last time could you work up the courage to take his hand, but when you had, he rewarded your courage with a drove of tenderness, fingers rubbing your knuckles and squeezing soft patterns for hours at the back of the movie theatre. 

The drive to Indianapolis takes near enough an hour. Eddie puts you on map duty but doesn’t use it, ignoring your offer of directions on the insistence that he knows a shortcut and then rerouting when you get too lost. He tells you there are snacks for you in the centre console and laughs, endeared, when you pop the lid and smile at it all. You talk about the show, a band you’d never heard of but had wanted to see on the grounds of sharing his interests. That’s what couples do, right? They try to do things together. You have to put yourself out of your comfort zone, and you’re happy to try if it means you can do it with him. 

“You nervous?” he asks, pulling into the parking garage outside of the venue, a towering, multi-story fiasco crammed with cars and motorbikes. 

“No,” you say, not quite mumbling as you look down at your hands. 

“Good, don’t be. I’m gonna look after you, we’re gonna have a great time. And then we can get takeout after?” You look up. He stretches his arm out to glance at his watch. “I would’ve taken you before, but good old Indianapolis keeps getting further away.” He smiles apologetically. 

You laugh without meaning to. His smile ramps up a notch. 

“I love when you laugh. You have such a cute laugh,” he says. 

“I know you’re lying,” you say, still laughing anyways. 

“I’m not lying, I love the way you laugh!” He shakes his head, curls falling away from his face as he flicks on the light on the car roof. “We have half an hour till doors open.”

“You don’t wanna line up?” 

“It’s kind of overwhelming and I figured we’d stay near the back of the crowd for your first gig here, it gets pretty rowdy.” He says ‘pretty rowdy’ like a drag, nodding gently, eyes lit with mirth. You love it when he talks like that. 

“We can go now, get further in. I can handle it.” 

“It’s not about handling it, I want you to have a good time. Plus, they could ruin your nice dress.” 

You meet his gaze all smiles like he is, but heat flickers in your chest and in your stomach, and you have to look away. It’s an impulse you’ve always given into. You’re reserved in the feelings department but trying not to be, Eddie deserves reciprocation, but it’s hard. Either way, he seems to understand this about you, and he hasn’t complained. 

Still, a bedraggled silence falls. Nearly awkward, unsure of how to tread, you sit together in your separate seats listening to cars parking and doors opening, closing on either side of you, the headlights of the cars driving past glaringly bright, white flashing over your screwed palms. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

You’re sure Eddie wants to kiss you. Three nights ago at the movies, after an hour of languid hand holding, he’d looked at your lips no less than three times as he said good night. He told you he’d had an amazing time, and that he couldn’t wait to see you again. You’d said the same in earnest, and then he’d just walked away. All those stolen glances and he hadn’t made a move. 

“Eddie… why…” You poke your tongue into your bottom lip momentarily, chewing it over. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?” 

“Um–” He lets out a nervous giggle before roughly clearing his throat. You peek at him, watching intently as he takes his hair away from his face with two hands. “I’m just waiting on you, sweetheart. No pressure.” He laughs as he talks, a picture of panic, “You’re sort of shy about that stuff, you know? I didn’t wanna surprise you.” 

“But you do want to kiss me?” you ask unsurely.

He puts his hand on your knee, the space between you suddenly smaller and warmer, the light like white glaze on his pupils, illuminating his finer details. He has a mole nestled under his eyelashes too small to see until now; it catches your attention. You stare at him too long. 

“Of course I do,” he says, eyebrows pinching together in concern. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you.” 

You nod and snap your head back to your lap. Why does he have to be so nice? You wish you’d listened to Steve, even if he was joking, you shouldn’t have ever said yes to Eddie, because now you’re terrified you can’t kiss him and you’ll ruin everything…

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not waiting for anything. You can take your time or you could never kiss me, and I won’t care. I swear. I mean, I really want you to kiss me but I’ll find a way to cope, I’m sure.” He takes his hand from your leg softly. “Do you want my jacket? It’s cold out, n’ we should probably start walking.” 

You pull your head up slowly. 

He reads your hesitant expression. “I’m in no rush,” he promises, head ever so slightly ducked to yours. 

Okay, you think. Okay, I can do this. You hold your breath and start to lean in. He falters, a millisecond of misunderstanding, before he recognises what you’re doing and smiles. He reaches for your waist with enough care to give you a chance to change your mind, and when you’re close enough to feel his breath, his lashes shutter. 

You follow suit, blind, with nothing but your intuition as you press your lips to his. 

With a feeling like the hum of the engine under your hands, you bring your fingers to his soft cheek and hold him still. He breathes in harshly, touches you far from it, his palm slipping behind your back to pull you in. You lean into it; it feels natural to give in, to turn your head one way and part your lips, to have him kiss back with heat and surprising sweetness.

You feel unlike yourself in a good way, falling back to kiss forward again, a third time, trying to chase the lulling bliss of his lips. The stomach aching want. Your hand chases across his cheek and into the curls behind his ear, needing him closer but not expecting the sound it elicits. He sighs into your lips and you flinch back, startled by the sensation. 

Eddie rubs your back with his index finger, unjudging as you drop your head to catch your breath. 

“You okay?” he asks quietly. You can hear his affection. It’s palpable. 

You nod, a dizzy weight collected in your forehead, thankful when his free hand catches your cheek and he turns your face gently to the side. “I got too hot,” you confess, only half of the truth. 

“It was pretty hot.” He smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world, like you’ve a secret only he knows. “Want me to turn on the A/C?” 

“No, I–” want to kiss you again, you think. You might even tell him so, but he starts to blow on your face, disrupting any thoughts you’d had earlier. He purses his lips and blows cold breath on your cheek, a tenderness in his gaze and the tip of his thumb where it rests just under your eye. “Oh.” 

This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you. Your face feels precious in his careful hand, pretty under his longing look. You’re not scared when he encourages you back to his lips, your eyes quick to close, your hands across the gap of your seats to gather his shirt between tight fingers. 

His kiss is a reflection of him. Loser, rockstar, he’s eager and his hands start to betray that, his kissing melty hot and addictive as the tip of his nose presses hard to yours. You turn your face to accommodate him better and that small action drives him crazy. He’s pulling you in, smiling into your mouth, making breathy sounds that’ll stick around in your head ten times as long as the tingles filling your chest as just kisses and kisses and doesn’t stop. 

“M’sorry,” he says, pulling away, and then stealing another heavy, soft kiss like he couldn’t wait. “Sorry,” he apologises again, stroking the skin beside your eye to encourage you into opening them. “I’m not trying to get carried away. Just can’t believe you just kissed me.” 

“No, it’s okay, I– I really wanted to.” 

He kisses your cheek. You aren’t expecting it and you don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like kissing him has invigorated him, you’re a shot he knocked back, his excitement catching as he begs, “Close your eyes again, sweetheart, just one more–”

You raise your chin and he practically gasps, immediately pressing a last chaste kiss to your burning lips. 

“I’m not always like this,” he promises, leaning away, his fingertips falling from your face to trace down your neck, your shoulder. “You’re just so fucking pretty I lost my mind. I’m on best behaviour from now on, swears.” 

He raises his hand up in a scout’s honour. 

You breathe out happily. “Thank you.” 

“Oh my god. Quick, we better get out of this van before I lose my mind.” He shakes his head. “You’re insane. I have such a crush on you, holy fuck,” —he turns away from you and gets out of the van— “Jesus.” 

You pull down the sun visor to check your reflection in the mirror. You look thoroughly kissed, eyes aglow with it. 

“Fuck!” Eddie swears. You beam at yourself as he wraps on the window. “Come on, sweetheart! I have a concert to pretend to pay attention to.” 

You slink out of your seat, brave enough to try for another kiss so long as it doesn’t kill him dead right here in the parking lot. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed! I love knowing what you think and it means so much to me/ inspires me to write even more!!! <3 but of course I hope you enjoyed reading regardless :D 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson lives

[starkeyisthelastname]

stepbro!rafe tricking you (being innocent) that he needs help but actually you cockwarm him and you ask him why you feel so weird on your privatparts and he just talks with you through it until he just cums inside you cause he couldn’t take it anymore

Hehe. 🤭

“Lock the door behind you.” Rafe’s voice said quietly as you patted into the bedroom.

You wondered why your step-brother wanted the door locked to watch a movie, but didn’t say anything as he always told you he knew best. Kicking off your furry slippers, you happily climbed into the bed where he was waiting.

“What movie are we watching Rafey?” You asked cutely, voice soft as you snuggled next to him. Your heavy tits pressed against his bicep as you looked up at him with curious eyes.

The ache ran straight to his cock as he glanced down at you. You were the fucking prettiest thing with your long eyelashes, full lips and gorgeous little body. He absolutely had to have you and he knew you would do anything to make him happy.

“Whatever you want sweetness.” He told you.

Your eyes widened at this as Rafe hardly ever let you pick. You eagerly grabbed the remote and began shuffling through one streaming app to another, not realizing your step-brother was getting a little impatient. The way you were wiggling around as you babbled on about how you couldn’t decide was making Rafe’s cock swell. Your tits bouncing with each little movement you made, nearly spilling out of the tiny silk tank top you wore.

Grabbing your hips, he sat you down in his lap to be still, not caring about the kitten like whine that left your mouth. “Sit still and pick the fucking movie. Yeah?” He said roughly.

You nodded with a bratty frown, as you finally picked the Cinderella Story. You snuggled your back further into Rafe’s chest, your ass resting snugly between his spread legs. He reached over to turn the lamp off, making the room dark except from the girly movie playing. Your eyes engrossed into the shit that he could care less about, as he leaned back against the pillows.

Half way through the movie, you didn’t even realize the large tip of your step-brother’s cock was poking at your entrance. You had been so focused on the screen that Rafe’s hands pulling your shorts aside hasn’t even crossed your mind.

“Rafey what are you-..” Your voice turning into a whimper as he pushed his cock into your warm cunt.

“Hush and watch your movie. You are gonna help me. Okay? You love helping your big bro don’t you?” He whispered in your ear.

He was right. You did love helping him. So you sat there and took it like a good step-sister. You tried your best to turn your attention back to the movie, all while your princess parts felt so full. Rafe had you right where he wanted. Tight little cunt fluttering around his fat length as he held you still, warming his cock in the process. He couldn’t help but let out a small groan as he had never felt anything so incredible.

“Rafey-why do you feel so weird?” Your voice shaky as you unknowingly soaked his cock.

“Shhh- sweetness. You just sit on my cock like a good girl.” The older boy told you, hands coming down to hold your waist firmly. He was embarrassed to say how close he was to bursting inside of you, your pussy squeezing his dick in vice grip.

Little moans and whimpers left between your lips as the weird sensation just kept getting more intense. You knew somewhere in your mind that this was wrong but your step-brother knew best didn’t he? You were helping him after all.

“Shit.. sweet girl keep squeezing me like that.” Rafe grunted, each time your cunt clenched around him when he would move even slightly. The pride he was losing at the edge of already cumming inside of you, made him want squeeze your throat in frustration. How dare his step-sister have such an incredible pussy that made him want bust his load?

He couldn’t hold back anymore, his hand instinctively coming to your throat to grab. You squeaked out his name, your smaller hand coming to rest on his as the warmth of something gooey shot up inside you.

“Such a good little slut..” Rafe barely whispered. “I mean helper. Such a good little helper.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron prompt #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #drew starkey x reader #obx smut #obx #stepbro!rafe

[rafesaddiction]

It's not cheating when he's your best friend – Rafe Cameron x Reader

See here for part 2

Summary: You and your best friend Rafe want to watch some movies together, but your jealous boyfriend keeps calling you and makes you cry. Rafe takes care of you.

Concept: best friends, one bed

Warnings: mdni! – smut, fingering, sex, p in v, cheating (reader cheats on boyfriend), jealousy, hints at toxic relationship, name calling (reader is called slut), protective!rafe, but also kinda mean!rafe

Word count: 3.9k

“Now what has the dick done this time?”

“His name is Nick and you know that,” you punched your best friend against his chest, causing him to mouth an “ouch!” and rub the spot you had hit, pretending to be hurt, though you knew even if you'd tried, you could not actually hurt him. He was so much stronger than you. And hitting him with your fist, you just felt his hard muscles and actually hurt your own hand a little.

“Whatever. He's a dick for sure,” Rafe shrugged, reached over you to grab the popcorn. His arm brushed your chest, just hardly touching your shirt, and weirdly it made you shiver.

You frowned at Rafe who had already turned his face towards the TV screen again. You were sitting next to him on the floor in front of his bed. Sure it wasn't as comfortable as if you had been sitting on the bed, but it was kind of your thing. Yours and Rafe's. When you were kids you used to do that all the time, sit as close to the TV screen as possible, because “it was like going to the movies”, the screen seemed so much bigger. Now the screen was actually huge, it still felt bigger sitting on the floor and looking up. You kind of felt like kids again, even though you were both adults now. It was a feeling of nostalgia, something you hadn't known you had missed that much.

It had been a while since you had done this, just a movie night with your best friend since childhood. Though your college wasn't that far away from the island, you had hardly seen Rafe in the last couple of months. And you'd missed this, hanging out with your best friend. Watching a movie marathon – Rafe had picked tonight's movies: all four John Wick films. And even though you had rolled your eyes when Rafe told you, you had to admit the movies were actually fun to watch. And you enjoyed yourself, eating popcorn, sitting next to each other, chatting or just watching in silence when a scene got extremely exciting.

You enjoyed yourself more than you had in a while. And you were so glad that you had agreed to spending time with Rafe before you would have to drive back to college the next day.

Well, you had enjoyed yourself, until your phone just wouldn't keep quiet. You had it on silent, but you could see the screen blinking. And you couldn't ignore it, because it might be important.

It was your boyfriend who had been texting you. And you hated to leave him on read, so you replied. But he didn't stop. You told him – again – you would call him later, you were watching movies with your best friend. His answer wasn't what you had hoped for.

You were just typing back when Rafe asked you what your boyfriend had done.

You really didn't want to talk about it, you wanted to relax, not think about your boyfriend or college or the next day when you would have to return, not think about how much you had missed just being yourself in the company of your best friend.

But your phone kept ringing. Your boyfriend was now calling you. You sighed.

You saw Rafe glancing at you sideways.

You should just put your phone away, and ignore it. But you were already too upset to enjoy the movie.

So you got up.

“I gotta take this,” you told Rafe, pointing at your phone, and you didn't even wait for his reply, but went to the adjoining bathroom and closed the door behind you.

You took a deep breath before answering the phone.

“Hi babe, I—” But your boyfriend didn't let you finish. He started talking right away, though it wasn't actually talking, he was yelling at you. He was furious that you had ignored him. You tried to explain, but he wouldn't listen.

“Why haven't you told me who you are meeting?”

“I didn't think it was such a big deal. Rafe's my best friend, you know that. I've known him since forever…”

Your boyfriend went to high school with you, so he knew who Rafe Cameron was. And he had never gotten along with him. Which was okay, because you only started dating at college. And that was when you found out that he hated your best friend. But since you hardly ever saw Rafe, he was never really a topic in your relationship. Until now.

“Don't think I'm stupid, y/n. He's not just a friend. He's Rafe Cameron.”

“But he is my friend!” You had tried to keep quiet, but your emotions were in turmoil. You didn't know how it had happened, but you were almost feeling angry.

“A friend who wants to fuck you. But that's what you want, huh? You just wanna be one of his dumb sluts? He's using you!”

Tears filled your eyes and you couldn't hold them back at his harsh words.

“That's not true,” your voice sounded weak and you sobbed.

He wouldn't listen. He just accused you of these ridiculous things, calling you names, and then he just hung up. You tried to call him back, but the call went straight to voice mail.

Your mind was racing, your heart was beating so fast, you felt it would explode in your chest. Tears were running down your cheeks, but you didn't even care to wipe them from your face when you left the bathroom to return to Rafe's bedroom.

He was still sitting on the floor in front of the bed. The movie was paused, you noticed from the silence in the room, and it kind of touched you that he had been so considerate to pause the movie, so you wouldn't miss a scene.

He looked up at you, but you tried to avoid his gaze as you walked closer.

“I need to go,” you said, hardly audibly.

“What?” Rafe frowned at you. “Dicky calls and you come running?”

For a moment, you wondered if he was hurt. After all, you had promised to spend time with him, watch a John Wick marathon. And you hadn't seen him for so long.

“I can't do this now,” you sniffled and shook your head. You couldn't deal with your best friend's hurt feelings too now, even though you felt bad. But you needed to leave now, you needed to make things right with your boyfriend.

You reached down to pick up your bag that was lying on the floor next to Rafe, when he suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you down. You let out a surprised gasp as you fell right onto his lap, where he caught you, where he held you.

You struggled and tried to get up.

“Let me go, asshole,” you punched his shoulder, but Rafe only held you closer in both his arms.

“What now? I'm the asshole, but he makes you cry?”

Rafe grabbed your jaw, making you look at him when you tried to turn your face away.

“Let me go,” you said, blinking tears away.

“Only when you tell me what's going on. What has he done to you?”

You tried to shake your head, struggling to get up, but he was stronger, so much stronger, and the way he held you, held you like he would never let go off you, you became overwhelmed by your emotions, no longer able to get your act together, instead of pushing away, you now clung to your best friend. You buried your face at the crook of his neck, and he held you. Tears were soaking his shirt and he caressed your hair. You were shaking and trembling and sobbing, and Rafe pulled you closer.

This side of him wasn't new to you, but no one else knew him like this, caring, protecting. And you had only seen him like this on few occasions. And it was like your body reacted to his. Though your feelings were still in turmoil, your shaking had stopped, your crying became quieter. Your hands were still clinging to the fabric of his shirt.

He was quiet and you could just feel his calm breathing, when you got quieter yourself after some time. He did not say anything, did not urge you. And you felt so comfortable. So safe. And you realized that you hadn't felt like this in months. You hadn't felt like this since you left.

You were only sobbing quietly after a while and moved your head back, to gaze at your best friend.

He looked at you, and on his lips was a little smile, as if he was looking at something precious.

You suddenly became very aware of his gaze.

“Don’t look at me. I look like a mess,” you cast your eyes down.

“Hot mess,” he said softly and you felt your cheeks flushing.

You tried to punch his chest, but he caught your fist in his hand, wrapping it around it, holding it. This time, you didn't try to struggle and pull it away, you felt this warmth from the closeness, not just surrounding your hand. You looked up from his big hand holding yours to his face, finding his eyes still on you.

“You're fucking beautiful and if he doesn't make you feel that way, he doesn't deserve you.”

An incredible heat was rushing to your face and you knew you were blushing crimson.

“You only say that because you’re my best friend.”

“I shouldn't say that because I am your best friend…”

Your lips opened at his words, but instead of speaking you only breathed in. And you could feel his breath on your face, on your lips. You closed your mouth and unconsciously your tongue touched your lips, as if trying to feel something there.

His blue eyes looked at you, so intensely, you could almost feel them on you.

His fingers moved and he was caressing your hand still in his. It was such a light movement, such a delicate touch, but it sent waves of electricity through your body. This tingling sensation made you restless and your body wriggled in his arms, making you well aware of the fact that you were sitting in his lap. You inhaled sharply.

“I should go,” you mumbled and tried to get up.

Rafe held you tighter, his hand around your fist pressed against is chest. His other arm around your back.

“Rafe, let me go,” you urged.

“Only when you tell me what he's done to you.”

“Nothing.”

You shook your head, but Rafe suddenly gripped your jaws again, and this time so hard, it hurt a little. He looked at you, his eyes narrowed, a frown on his forehead and his voice was so stern, so commanding, it made you shiver.

“What did he say to you? Tell me now.”

You looked down with your eyes but somehow you couldn't refuse his command.

“He called me a dumb slut and said you just wanted to use me.”

There was silence, a cold, icy silence. You watched his face.

His brows furrowed, his nostrils flared, his jaws clenched.

“I'm gonna kill him.”

You saw his eyes darken, his handsome features grew tense. And even though you were sure that he didn't mean what he said, you felt a shiver running down your spine, because he kind of looked as if he meant it.

He was about to get up, and you were slipping from his lap in that motion. But you clung to him.

“No, Rafe, don't!”

And even though you were weaker than him, your hands pressed on his broad shoulders and you somehow managed to push him down, so he remained seated and you found yourself straddling his lap now.

His chest was rising and falling, as if from exhaustion. His hands found your hips and you felt you were panting too. Suddenly feeling so hot and restless.

“I'm gonna go,” you said, but you didn't get up.

“I can't let you drive like this. You’re a bad driver anyway, and you'll surely crash into some tree or something when you drive in this state.”

You frowned at his words.

“But I need to get back to college in the morning.”

You felt his hands grip your hips firmer, even though you didn't try to move.

“You can just stay the night and drive in the morning after you've rested.”

It wouldn't be the first night you spent at your best friend's. Though it had been a while.

“Rose is redecorating the guest room – again. You can't sleep in there. But you can sleep in my bed, I'll sleep on the floor.”

“But –”

“No buts.”

And that and the stern look on his face shut you up.

You weren't in the mood to continue watching the movie marathon and it was late anyway, so you decided to go to sleep. Rafe gave you one of his t-shirts to wear for the night, and you went into the bathroom to change and wash your face. It was a warm night, so you only wore the t-shirt over your panties, it was way too big for you, but it was extremely comfortable.

When you returned to the bedroom, you found Rafe putting a blanket on the floor next to the bed, making some make-shift bed. He was just wearing boxer briefs, and even though the light was dim, you could see his well-defined body clearly. You'd seen him like this before, of course. Like when you had been at the beach or swimming in the pool. Yet somehow, seeing him in his underwear felt different, more intimate.

You stood there, hands clutching the hem of the oversized t-shirt at your thighs. And you looked at him when he straightened up and turned towards you.

You felt his eyes travelling over your body and you quickly started moving towards the bed.

“What are you doing there?”

Rafe tilted his head. You pointed at the floor.

“You don't have to sleep on the floor. Your bed is big enough for the two of us. This is ridiculous.”

“Yeah, maybe I don't want to get hit when you're tossing and turning in your sleep?”

“I did that once! When I was eight!”

“Once was enough. And it really hurt when you punched my ribs in your sleep. So, no thank you. I'll take the floor.”

Rafe took a pillow from the bed and was about to set it on the floor when you grabbed his arm, to get that pillow back.

“You're stupid. This is stupid!”

You frowned at him, pulled at his arm, to get the pillow, and in your struggling with him, he must have lost balance, because you suddenly found yourself on your back on the bed and Rafe was lying on top of you. That pillow still in his hand, your hand around his wrist, with his arm and yours above your head on the bed.

You looked up at him, your face just an inch away from his. You could hardly see his features, but you felt the proximity, felt it so intensely. Felt that heat that was radiating from his body, felt it crawling over your skin. You felt the weight of his body on yours. And your breathing got harder.

You felt him shift, just a bit, on top of you, as if trying not to crush you and you inhaled and his scent filled your lungs.

You felt a light touch on your cheek. The fingertips of his free hand caressed your face.

“I'll sleep in the bed with you, if you promise me not to cry over that douchebag anymore,” his voice low, as he spoke those words, moving his lips so close hovering over yours. His eyes held your gaze. You nodded softly. And he got up and you exhaled a breath you didn't know you were holding in.

You kept lying on your back, just for some seconds, unable to move, still feeling his fingertips on your cheek, his body's weight pressing you down, feeling dizzy all of a sudden.

But then the bed tilted and you looked to the side, seeing that Rafe was getting into the bed, and you moved to make room for him.

You lay on your side, facing him as he pulled the blanket over you. His face once again close to yours, just for some seconds.

“Night, y/n.”

“Good night, Rafe.”

He turned on his back and switched off the lights. You turned to the other side and closed your eyes, focused on his breathing. You felt your own heart beating so rapidly at first, but after some time, you got calmer and were able to relax.

You must have fallen asleep, because when you woke up, you felt Rafe's body close behind yours, his arm loosely wrapped around you. You smelled his dark scent so intensely, felt his heat getting under your shirt. You felt his breath at the back of your head and a light shiver was running down your spine.

“Rafe?” You softly whispered his name, but he must have been fast asleep. He didn't answer, didn't move.

Carefully you placed your hand on his, your fingertips feeling along his long fingers.

He didn't move. His breathing still so calm.

His chest was pressing against your back and you could feel his regular heartbeat. It felt so familiar. You felt so safe.

And yet you couldn't stay still.

You bit your lips and moved, just a bit, arching your back, moving your butt back, pressing it against his crotch.

His breathing remained calm, telling you, he was still asleep, still unaware of what you were doing.

And you moved your butt just a little bit more and you felt him, felt him so prominently, you gasped in surprise. That tingling you felt turned into something hotter and you felt your core pulsing all of a sudden. You were breathing through your opened mouth as you felt this heat rushing through your body.

But Rafe was still breathing calmly, he was still asleep.

You felt him stir behind you, felt how hard he was, poking against your ass.

His palm was on your lower stomach. You felt it move under your hand. His calm breathing so close to your ear.

His hand moved down, moved over the fabric of the t-shirt you were wearing, and the pressure made you gasp and push back a little more.

You let go off his hand, but grasped the sheets. You tried to calm your breathing, but you were panting as you felt his fingers move under your shirt, felt his warm touch on your burning skin.

You couldn't see anything but you pressed your eyes shut nonetheless as his fingers slipped into your panties. They touched your heat, touched your most sensitive parts.

You let out a small whimper and your back arched further.

You listened, but he was so calm, so still, as if he was still asleep, and only his fingers were moving. And they moved between your legs. His fingers gently parting your folds.

You pressed your mouth shut, but you were sure that embarrassingly whining sound could be heard in the darkness of the room.

His fingertip rubbed your pearl and your body reacted, tensing up as you felt this incredible hot need literally throbbing.

You felt his breath so close to your ear and it sent a different kind of shiver through your body.

One finger slipped inside you, and you clenched around it hard. But he pushed deeper and you gasped. And you didn't know how but you were so wet, it made it easy for him to add another finger, though you pressed your legs tightly together.

For a moment, his digits just remained there, inside you, not moving. So very still like the rest of his body.

Then you felt his hard cock pressing against your ass, the length between your cheeks. And as if following some instinct, you rocked your hips, rubbed against him, creating more friction, creating more heat that made you shiver.

His fingers started moving inside you, pushing deeper, curling, and finding a spot that made you outright moan, and unable to suppress that sound.

His thumb pressed hard on your pearl, teasing you and sending hot bolts of pure need through your body. And your body was on heat, there was no other way to describe it. Every cell of your body was aching for his touch now. And he touched you, so good, so intensely, so determined.

You were moaning and whimpering as his fingers opened you up, made you spread your legs, urging him to go deeper, pushing against his thrusts, and pressing against his hardness.

You felt your climax building up quickly as his fingers pushed harder, moved deeper and more ruthlessly inside you, taking you.

You felt his hot lips on your neck as you pushed your head back, your body convulsing. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, but you weren't sure if you were trying to stop him – or if you even could.

His thumb rubbing your most sensitive pearl, making you clamp your walls around his fingers, you couldn't have stopped it, it was almost as if he was forcing that orgasm into you and you gave in, gave in willingly and with everything you had, everything you were, letting that wave of pure pleasure roll over you. Moaning shamelessly, your body trembling as his fingers fucked you through an overwhelming climax.

You lay there, panting, sweat covering your body, and you were still feeling dizzy from the aftermath of that amazing orgasm, when you felt a shiver of cold. He lifted the blanket off of you. And before you could ask why, you felt his hand on your thigh and he lifted up your leg. And before you could wonder what he was up to, you felt his fingers push your soaking wet panties to the side. And before you could really grasp what was going on, you felt his hard cock push inside you from behind.

You cried out as you were stretched by his thickness.

His hand covered your mouth, muffling your cries, as he pushed deeper, pushed his whole length into you. You felt like he was splitting you in two, he was so big, pushing so hard, but at the same time this was all you wanted, all your body was craving for.

Your body shook from his hard thrusts, and he wrapped his arm around you, holding you close, making you feel his rapid heartbeat, making you feel him, so intensely, you forgot where you ended and where he began. You felt as if you were melting into him as he took you with long hard thrusts, took you as if you were only his.

And when you felt his hot cum spilling inside you, your body convulsed so hard around him, making him gasp into your ear and you came again, and he was fucking you through another high, this time not as fierce, but even more intense as you felt this connection with him, something you had never felt before.

You were still panting and your body was trembling as he rolled you around and took you in his arms. His lips kissing your face, tasting your sweat, tasting your tears.

“You're one of my sluts now.”

You froze as you heard his dark whisper.

“What?” You moved your head back to look at him though it was too dark to make out his features.

“I said, go back to sleep now,” he said, softly. And kissed your forehead, before cradling you in his strong arms. Your head resting against his shoulder, as he held you. Held you close.

a/n: Thank you for reading. This was probably much sweeter than what I usually write. I hope you enjoyed it. All feedback is very much appreciated.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe fanfiction #drew starkey #rafe cameron x reader #dark rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x you #smut fic #outer banks fanfiction #rafe x y/n #rafe obx #rafe fic