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strawberri-blonde · 15 days ago

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first kiss with rafe

rafe cameron wasn’t used to waiting. patience wasn’t exactly his strong suit, not when he was used to getting what he wanted with little resistance. but when it came to you, something shifted. you weren’t like the others, and he knew from the start that rushing things with you would ruin it.

he’d learned that the hard way—with sofia. things with her were fast, messy, and over before he could even process it. he didn’t want that with you. he couldn’t have that with you.

so, he contained himself. he kept his hands to himself when all he wanted to do was pull you close, press his lips to yours, and let you know exactly how badly he wanted you. instead, he played the long game, holding himself back even when it drove him fucking crazy.

and it was driving him crazy.

you weren’t making it any easier, either. the way your smile lingered a little too long when you looked at him, the way you brushed against him “accidentally” when you walked by, the way your lips parted just slightly when you caught him staring—it all had him hanging by a thread. but rafe was determined to do this right, no matter how much restraint it took.

tonight was no different. the two of you were sitting on the balcony of tannyhill, the sound of waves crashing in the distance as the summer air wrapped around you like a blanket. rafe had invited you over under the pretense of “just hanging out,” but the tension between you was thick enough to cut with a knife.

“you’re quiet tonight,” you said softly, turning to look at him. the moonlight hit your face just right, making you look almost ethereal.

rafe glanced at you, his jaw ticking slightly as he tried to figure out how to respond without spilling his guts. “just... thinkin’, i guess,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

you tilted your head, studying him like you could see right through his bullshit. “about what?”

he hesitated. lying wasn’t an option, not with you. “you,” he admitted finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

your breath hitched, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. the tension was unbearable, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. “what about me?” you asked, your voice soft but steady.

rafe looked at you then, really looked at you, and something in his eyes made your stomach flip. “about how much i want to kiss you,” he said, his tone raw and unfiltered. “but i—shit. i don’t want to fuck this up. not with you.”

your cheeks flushed, and your heart felt like it might burst. “rafe...”

“no, listen,” he cut in, his voice a little louder now. “you’re not like the others. you’re not—fuck, you’re not sofia. and i don’t want to rush this and ruin everything. you’re... you’re different. you mean more to me.”

his words hung in the air, heavy and sincere, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. you’d been waiting for this moment, hoping for it, and now that it was here, it felt almost surreal.

“rafe,” you said again, reaching out to touch his hand. he stiffened slightly under your touch, but he didn’t pull away. “i want this too. i want you.”

his eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of doubt, but all he saw was the same longing he’d been carrying for weeks. months, even. “you sure?” he asked, his voice rough and strained.

you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “i’m sure.”

that was all he needed.

slowly, like he was afraid of breaking you, rafe leaned in. his hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek as his lips hovered just inches from yours. “tell me to stop,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

“don’t you dare,” you whispered back, your voice shaky but certain.

and then he kissed you.

it wasn’t rushed or frantic like you’d expected. it was soft, deliberate, and everything you’d ever dreamed it would be. his lips moved against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache, his other hand finding its place on your waist and pulling you closer.

you melted into him, your hands tangling in his hair as the kiss deepened. he groaned softly against your lips, and the sound sent a shiver down your spine.

“fuck,” he muttered against your mouth, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against yours. “you’re gonna be the death of me, princess.”

you laughed softly, your fingers still tangled in his hair. “you’ve been holding out on me, cameron.”

he smirked, his confidence finally breaking through the restraint he’d been holding onto for so long. “could say the same about you,” he shot back, his voice low and teasing.

you rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face betrayed you. “you’re impossible.”

“and you’re mine,” he said without hesitation, his lips finding yours again.

this time, the kiss was hungrier, needier, like weeks of pent-up tension finally breaking free. his hands roamed your sides, gripping you like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“rafe,” you murmured against his lips, your voice breathless and desperate.

“yeah, baby?” he replied, his tone rough but soft, his lips trailing down to your jawline.

“don’t stop,” you said, your hands pulling him closer as if that were even possible.

he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “wasn’t planning on it.”

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strawberri-blonde · 16 days ago

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rafe loves when you try on clothes for him

kinda of a continuation from this one, anyways enjoy! (do not copy or plagarize, original work) The ring of the doorbell cut through the quiet hum of the house, startling you for just a moment before the realization hit. It’s here. Your heart jumped with excitement as you shot up from the couch, your legs carrying you to the door with an eagerness you couldn’t hide.

You flung the door open, and there it was—a sleek brown box wrapped in crisp, elegant packaging, sitting neatly on the doorstep like a perfectly delivered Christmas morning gift. The delivery truck was already pulling away, but you caught the driver tipping his hat to you as he drove off, as if he knew exactly how much this meant.

The box landed on the kitchen counter with a satisfying thunk as you tore into the packaging, peeling back the layers of crisp tissue paper to reveal the treasure inside. The first thing you saw— the dress took your breath away. Its soft sand color was understated yet luxurious, and the fabric practically begged to be touched. The delicate lace at the neckline was feminine and graceful, while the corseted bodice promised to cinch and shape you in all the right places. The way the fabric shifted as you lifted it from the box made you certain it would drape over your curves effortlessly. The fabric shimmered faintly under the light, soft and luxurious beneath your fingertips. It was stunning, even better than you had imagined, the kind of dress that practically whispered promises of perfection.

“Baby,” Rafe’s voice drifted in from the living room, a casual mix of curiosity and amusement. “What’s got you so hyped?”

You turned to see him leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed lazily over his chest, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips. His sharp blue eyes flicked from you to the open box on the counter, taking in the scene with an expression that was equal parts intrigued and entertained.

“Is that the stuff you were stressing about the other day?” he asked, arching a brow.

You held up the dress, letting the fabric catch the light. “Rafe, look at this. It’s perfect,” you gushed, unable to keep the excitement from your voice.

He pushed off the doorframe, sauntering closer with a look that could only be described as predatory curiosity. His gaze lingered on the dress in your hands, his head tilting slightly as his lips curved into a slow, teasing grin. “Perfect, huh?” His voice dropped just enough to send a pleasant shiver down your spine. “Well, try it on for me. Let me see.”

Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, and you rolled your eyes to cover up the butterflies stirring in your stomach. “You’re so impatient,” you teased, hugging the dress closer to your chest as you moved toward the bedroom. But you couldn’t help the grin spreading across your face.

“And you’re stalling,” he shot back smoothly, his voice following you down the hall. “I wanna see what I paid for.”

You disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door behind you as your heart gave a little flutter. His words played over in your mind—try it on for me—simple and casual, but the way he’d said it, with that low, confident drawl, made you feel flushed. You shook your head at yourself, grinning as you pulled the dress free from its packaging.

Sliding out of your casual clothes, you stepped into the dress, pulling it up carefully. The fabric skimmed over your skin like water, clinging to your curves in a way that felt both daring and effortless. You smoothed it over your hips, adjusting the straps before stepping back to take yourself in.

You blinked, your lips parting slightly. The dress fit like it had been made just for you. It hugged every curve, accentuating your waist and the line of your hips. The champagne satin seemed to glow in the light, and the neckline dipped just enough to be intriguing without being too revealing. It was the kind of dress that made you feel powerful, elegant, and a little dangerous all at once.

A soft knock on the door broke the moment. “You decent, or am I just coming in?” Rafe’s voice was teasing but edged with impatience.

You bit back a smile, smoothing the dress one last time before opening the door. You stepped out slowly, meeting his gaze. The effect was immediate.

When you stepped out, his reaction was immediate.

Rafe straightened from where he was leaning casually against the doorframe, his sharp blue eyes locking onto you like a magnet. His usual smirk disappeared, replaced by something quieter, heavier. His gaze started at your face, his brows lifting slightly before his eyes began a slow descent. They trailed deliberately, taking in the curve of your neck, the way the straps framed your shoulders, and the dip of the neckline that revealed just enough of your collarbone. His eyes lingered there for a beat too long, and you could feel your skin heat under his scrutiny.

“Say something,” you teased softly, shifting your weight. His silence, though flattering, was almost unnerving.

When he did, his voice was low, almost reverent. “Damn.”

“Well?” you asked softly, your voice more breathless than you intended.

He blinked, his lips parting slightly, but no words came out at first. Instead, he took a step closer, his movements deliberate. His eyes dropped again, tracing the lines of the dress like he was trying to commit them to memory. He lingered at the curve of your waist, where the satin clung so perfectly it looked like it had been painted on. His jaw tightened slightly as his gaze moved lower, over the swell of your hips and the way the fabric kissed the tops of your thighs.

He took a step closer, his eyes darkening as they locked on yours. “You look…” He trailed off, his voice low and rough, like he was searching for the right words. “You look unbelievable.”

The heat in his voice sent a thrill down your spine. “You really think so?” you asked, your voice softer now, almost shy under the weight of his gaze before turning back to the mirror in front of you.

Standing in front of the mirror, you smoothed the fabric over your hips, adjusting the fit as you looked yourself over. The dress was stunning, but his reaction had you second-guessing every little detail. You fiddled with the straps, brushing a hand along the neckline as you tried to make sure everything was just right. Behind you, Rafe moved, his presence unmistakable as he crossed the room. You caught his reflection in the mirror as he approached, his blue eyes locked on you with a hunger that made your breath hitch. He stopped behind you, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him.

He huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he closed the space between you. “Think so?” His hand reached out, fingers brushing over your waist before resting there, his thumb grazing the fabric in a slow, deliberate motion. “No. I know so.”

Heat flooded your cheeks, and you glanced away, but he reached out, his fingers brushing your chin to tilt your face back toward the mirror in front of the both of you, forcing you to not only look at him but yourself. “Don’t do that,” he murmured, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t look away from me when you look like that.”

His hand slid to your waist, pulling you a step closer. The warmth of his touch seeped through the satin, grounding you even as your pulse picked up. “This dress,” he said softly, his thumb tracing a slow circle against your hip. “It’s dangerous.”

Your eyes flicked to his reflection in the mirror, your stomach flipping at the way he was looking at you. “Dangerous?” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper. Your voice catching as he leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your temple.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his lips brushing just below your ear, sending a shiver racing down your spine. “Because now I don’t want to let you leave the house in it.”

A soft laugh escaped you, but it died quickly as his arms wrapped around you fully, pulling you back against him. His hands rested against your stomach, his touch possessive but gentle, and his eyes never left yours in the mirror. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice dropping even lower. “You see this? Do you see how perfect you look? And you're all mine?”

You swallowed hard, your gaze locked on his reflection. His hands traced slow circles against the satin, his thumbs brushing over your waist as his eyes roamed over your body in the mirror. “Rafe…” you started, but your voice trailed off when his lips brushed the side of your neck.

Your cheeks burned as his words sank in, the weight of his hands on your waist making you feel both grounded and lightheaded at the same time. His lips found the curve of your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss there before trailing back up to your neck. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Not in this.”

The tension in the room was electric, crackling between you as his gaze met yours in the mirror again. His hands slid to your hips, pulling you closer, and when he spoke again, his tone was softer but no less intense. “I might need you to keep this on for a while,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Or not…”

an: if you can't tell, i luvvvv this man :) word count about 1.6k but who's counting lol my masterlist / my carrd

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strawberri-blonde · 16 days ago

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we listen and we don’t judge

drew starkey x latina actress reader!

Drew was not a fan of social media.

Unlike you.

Chronically online was a term that was gaining fame to describe someone who spent quite some time on the internet, and who knew all the trends going on.

You weren’t exactly proud to be a part of that community.

But it kept you entertained.

And that’s how you ended up setting your phone up, ready to record Drew and you filming a new trend on TikTok.

How did you convince him to do it? You don’t even remember.

And after what felt like an eternity of explaining the dynamic to Drew, you both were finally ready to begin.

Both of you sitting next to each other on your couch, you looked at him with a mischievous smirk while he stared at you suspiciously.

“We listen and we don’t judge” you both said at the same time, Drew smirking at you.

“I’ll start” you said, looking from your phone screen to your boyfriend. “Sometimes, when I don’t really wanna cook, I get all dramatic and lie about us not having all the ingredients for the dish I was supposed to make, so you can offer to make something instead with what we do have” you say, giving him an embarrassed smile.

He chuckled at your words.

“I knew that love” he lets out a laugh. “You’re not good at lying to me”.

Your mouth opens up in shock.

“We listen and we don’t judge”.

Drew pauses for a moment, smiling at you.

"When you're showering, i close the door of our room so the sound of your music gets as muffled as possible" he admits.

You giggle as you nod at his words, you did like to shower with loud music.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You look at him through the screen.

“I thought you hated me when we first met, so I would intentionally try to stay out of your way our first couple of working days together”.

Drew gives you a puzzled expression trying his best not to judge.

“We listen and we don’t judge”.

He clears his throat before speaking.

“I often fake coming home super tired and stressed so that you take pity on me and cuddle me while playing with my hair” he says giving you a cute smile.

You giggle at his words.

“That’s cute” you admit leaning to peck his lips.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You take a couple of seconds before speaking, trying to be dramatic.

“I have a lot of edits of you saved on my favorites folder on TikTok” you look at him.

Drew covers his eyes while letting out a chuckle.

“We listen and we don’t judge”.

He looks at you mischievously.

“I get jealous of the guys in your books” he admits seriously.

You let out a laugh as you throw your head back.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You giggle softly before confessing the next one.

“Whenever I feel sick in the middle of the night, I wiggle a lot in bed or move your body so you’ll accidentally wake up and ask me what’s wrong”.

He opens his mouth surprised at your words.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

Drew thinks a little before speaking.

“Ever since we met I’ve always been skeptical of your at home remedies for illnesses, even though they work every time” he admits.

You slowly nod while giving him a defeated look, knowing that already.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You give him a playful look before speaking.

“When we’re cuddling, sometimes I have the urge to stand up abruptly because I get too hot and I feel like I can’t breathe because you’re too big” you say, barely getting out the words without laughing.

Drew looks at you with big eyes, moving his brows up and down at the double meaning of your last words.

You roll your eyes at him.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

He thinks for a moment before speaking.

“When I’m showering, sometimes I’ll use your shampoo rather than mine” he pauses as he looks at your baffled face. “It leaves my hair softer! And smells like you”.

Of course, there were a few confessions you had to cut from the video because your PR managers would hunt you down if they made it out into the internet.

“We listen and we don’t judge” you both say smiling at each other.

You smirk playfully at him before speaking.

“I cannot stand one of your friends and past coworkers” you admit, making a serious face.

Drew immediately throws his head back and lets out a chuckle, knowing exactly who you’re referring to.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

He clears his throat before looking at you.

“I don’t like watching F1 since you told me about that driver that slid into your dm’s” he lets out cockily.

You burst out laughing looking at him while he joins you.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You make a thinking face looking at him.

“I wish you sent me more shirtless photos” you say giving him puppy eyes. “Or like, you took more of those with my phone, so I could look at them”.

He snorted out a laugh.

“That can be fixed baby” he says as he looks at you mischievously.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

He gives you a smile.

“When I travel for work and you’re not coming with me, I take a pair of your panties and stuff them in my suitcase” he says laughing.

You scrunch up your nose at him.

“Drewwwwww” you say covering your face, now knowing where those missing undies went.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You avoid his eyes for the next one.

“Sometimes when I’m cold, I throw on one of your dirty hoodies that you used while working out, cause they’re sweaty and smell like you” you say, trying not to burst out laughing.

He gives you a grossed out look.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You look at him waiting for him to speak.

“You know those sleeping shorts Brooke sent you cause she accidentally bought too many?” He says, making quotation marks with his fingers while saying sent and accidentally.

You nod at his words.

“I actually bought them for you because I love how your ass looks in them”.

Your mouth opens at his confession while you hit him playfully in the chest.

Drew laughs at your reaction.

“Oh my god baby, this is definitely not making it to the video” you say as you stand up from your position while laughing at him, walking to your phone to stop recording, while he stands back watching your movements with a smile.

Noticing that in fact, you were wearing a pair of those shorts.

“We don’t judge remember?” he said cheekily.

inspired by @valstranquility lando blurb<3

I love this trend on TikTok and I just couldn’t help myself

they’re just too cute I can’t

this was short n sweet hope you like it, if you have any other concepts you’d like to read let me know!

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strawberri-blonde · 17 days ago

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Thank you for reminding me how gorgeous this man is

Harry Collett as Jacaerys Velaryon

2.05 • Regent

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strawberri-blonde · 18 days ago

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girl...

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strawberri-blonde · 18 days ago

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happy birthday, baby (part two: birthday boy)

(boyfriend!rafe x girlfriend!reader two-shot) (18+ only)

summary When Rafe's birthday finally rolls around, it's your turn to show him just how much he deserves to be celebrated. you never expected to be the one whose deepest wish comes true...

content dirty filthy birthday sex, pinv, light bondage, m recieving oral, use of ‘daddy’ sorry, 18+ minors do not interact!

(part 2 to this fic, but can be read separately)

-----------------ꪆৎ‎---------------------

“Tastes so good, baby.”

Little crumbs of red velvet cake collect at the corners of Rafe’s mouth. You laugh and brush them off with the pad of your thumb.

He’d made you swear not to buy him anything for his birthday, “‘s just another day…” he’d say. But it wasn’t just another day, not to you. Today was the day your universe began, all those years ago. So you’d made all his favorites, a five-course meal with a big finish: a triple layer red velvet cake, extra frosting.

“What did you wish for?” You ask hopefully, plucking the blown-out candles from the cake, licking the frosting off. A little dab of red frosting lingers on your cheek, making Rafe smile, but he doesn’t wipe it off, not yet.

“Nothin’,” he shrugs.

Your brows furrow in disappointment, you were trying so hard to get him to buy into the celebration of his birthday, to make him feel as special as he made you feel, and his answer seemed to confirm he wasn’t, “Oh. Okay.”

You step away from his hold and start to gather the dishes, failing miserably at hiding your disappointment. Rafe just smiles up at you, grabbing your wrist as you reach out to grab his empty dinner plate, pushing it out of the way with his other hand as he pulls you forward to sit on his lap.

Perched on his thighs, you avoid eye contact, feeling silly for being so emotionally invested in this. His grin never falling, he places two fingers under your chin, pulling your face to look at him.

“I didn’t make a wish,” he begins, using his thumb to pull at your pouty lower lip, “because I already have everything I could ever want right here in my lap.”

A blush tickles the apples of your cheeks, warming at his pretty words. You smile big, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his firm shoulder.

“Oh,” you laugh softly into the warm skin of his neck.

“Yeah, oh,” he teases you, his hand rubbing loving strokes on your thigh.

“Wait a minute,” you pull back suddenly, brow furrowed. “I’m supposed to be saying nice things to you!”

“No one’s stopping you,” he chuckles, lifting your hair and brushing it over your shoulder so he can kiss around the strap of your dress.

You pause him, hand on either side of his face to reclaim the moment. You lean forward so you’re the one kissing him, starting gently with his lips.

“I love you,” you whisper to him.

“You do?” He teases, as if you don’t already tell him twenty times a day and every single night.

“You know that I do,” you roll your eyes, reuniting your lips with his, then moving your kisses over to his cheeks and across his jaw, whispering sweet nothings the whole way.

When you pull back, his eyes are half closed, chest rising and falling heavily. He’s right where you want him, but tonight, the goal is to push him over the edge. You ponder what you can do to get him to let go completely, to give you the raw energy you know he’s been holding back.

Impulsively, you dip your finger into the thick icing on the edge of the cake, coating your fingertip in red frosting, and bring it to his lips. An incredulous smirk painted on his lips, his eyes narrow at you; the look a mix of what’s your game? and do you know how fucking hot that is?

After a beat, he draws your finger between his lips with a swirl of his tongue, the movement so sweet and so sexy you nearly swoon.

His hands grip your waist and he pulls you in closer, and you feel his hardness bury itself into the soft underside of your thigh. He has that familiar mischief in his eyes, like he’s scheming.

Then he leans forward suddenly, warm tongue licking the frosting off your cheek. You gasp and giggle, laughing loudly until your silenced by his tongue dragging its way across your cheek and into your mouth, kissing you slow and sloppy.

The two of you are always like this, all over each other, addicted. But something about tonight feels different. You couldn’t give him any presents, but you were ready to give him everything else you had. Everything you’d been too nervous to ask for, hoping he’d say it first.

He squeezes your waist, grinding you into him, and you know it’s time.

“I know you said you didn’t want any presents, but I got you a little something anyway,” you scrunch your nose with feigned guilt, though you weren’t actually sorry at all.

“Oh did you?” He tightens his grip on your hips, but you manage to wriggle away from him with some difficulty.

He scoffs in annoyance when he’s alone in the chair again, so you lean down and leave a peck on his pink lips, “I’ll be right back. Wait for me on the couch, yeah?”

“You’re real bossy for someone who was not born today,” he quips, not rising from the chair as instructed.

“And you’re very unspoiled for someone who was,” you explain, “I think we need to fix that.”

Rafe falls back onto the plush couch with a sigh as you disappear into the bedroom. The long, heavy day wears on him, his head falling back to stretch the tightness in his neck. He wishes he didn’t always feel so intensely, wishes a day could just be a day and not a weighted reminder of his messy past. He wishes, desperately, something could just drown out the noise, that someone could come take the weight of his shoulders.

Like an answer to his prayer, you appear in front of him.

You lean on the doorframe seductively, one arm up against the wood, popping out your hip, a silhouette he wishes he could bottle up and consume whole.

You’re wearing a silky, red lingerie set, the bra featuring a big bow tied in the middle, pushing your breasts together and begging to be untied. You do a little spin so he can see the similar bow tied over your ass, cheeks perked up nicely by the sky high heels you’ve added to the ensemble, clicking on the hardwood floor as you twirl for him.

“Holy shit,” he stammers, adjusting himself on the couch, already straining against his slacks just at the sight of you, all done up for him.

Rafe leans back on the couch, He raising both arms, fingers laced behind his head, doing everything he can to stifle the impulse to jump up and untie those fucking bows. He does that a lot, holds himself back, afraid to show you all of his fire and find out it’s too much for you.

“You,” he chuckles darkly, eyes twinkling with lust and impatience, “are unbelievable.”

“D’ya like it?” You bite your lip, fingertips twirling the ends of the ribbon innocently.

“Come here,” he raises his eyebrows incredulously, motioning for you, “come see just how much I like it.”

An excited giggle rises from your throat, your heels tapping as you hurry towards him. He opens his legs for you to stand between, rubbing your hands over his shoulders. The ridges of his taut muscles are visible under his black button down, still in his suit and tie from his long day at work. He turns his head to kiss the inside of your forearms, smirking knowingly as he snaps the silky pink scrunchie on your wrist, “what’s this for?”

“You know what it’s for,” you smirk, running your hands up the side of his neck and onto either side of his face, “gonna give you everything you like.”

“Yeah?” He asks in a low grumble, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as he examines the bow over your tits, now resting perfectly in front of his face.

One hand playing with the cartilage of his ear, the other runs up to the top of his head, lacing into his messy hair, tugging gently to lift his gaze to your eyes.

“Is that what you want? You want me on my knees for you, birthday boy?”

Steadying himself, he places his hands on your waist, the bob of his Adam’s apple prominent with the way you’ve got his head pushed back. He swallows, something holding back his answer.

“It’s okay, baby,” you reassure him, “you can ask for what you want.”

This is one of the many things you love about him, he’s so aggressive and demanding with everyone else in his life, but still hesitant to be too rough with you. Today, though, you wanted all his fire, craved that fury, determined to snap his restraint.

You tug a little harder on his hair, “I’m your present, Rafe. I want you to open me up and do whatever you want with me.”

His nostrils flare, sparks flickering in his eyes. His hands slip down to your barely covered ass, squeezing the soft flesh so hard in his broad palms you gasp and stumble forward slightly. He takes advantage of your body coming closer to his face, leans forward and sinks his teeth into the flesh of your hip, right above the line of your panties.

A high pitched gasp leaves you, picking up into an involuntary squeak as his teeth mark your skin. He pulls back and licks over the bite mark he’s left, blowing on it gently, lighting up your body with chills.

“Mine?” He double checks.

“All yours, always,” you nod, still breathless from his possessive display. “Tell me what you want, I’ll give you anything.”

“Get on your knees,” he finally demands.

“Yes sir,” you nod, unable to hide your giddy smile, releasing his hair from your hand and lowering to the ground.

“Wait, wait,” he says, and you almost let out a frustrated sigh, assuming he was changing his mind. Before you could remind him that you wanted this, he grabbed a pillow off the couch, placing it down for you to rest your knees on, still loving on you even when he was about to do filthy things to you.

Your eyes are full of hearts as you kneel down on the pillow, gazing up at him lovingly once you’re settled between his legs. You pull your hair up, putting the scrunchie to good use, and sit back on your heels to take him in.

The sight of you, perched for him, eyes full of lust as your chest rises and falls with arousal, is all the gift he needed. But you’re nowhere near done spoiling him yet.

Once he’s settled back on the couch, you sit up, running a hand up each of his thighs, stroking slowly as you near his belt buckle. His abs tighten as the tips of your fingers brush against his stomach. Your eyes go wide at the large indentation of his cock against his pants, thrilled that he’s so hard already, the thought of his perfect dick sending butterflies fluttering through your tummy.

“Got me so wet thinking about taking you in my mouth,” you confess.

“You don’t have to-”

“Shhh,” you shake your head slowly, not even entertaining the thought.

After pulling the button from its loop, you unzip his slacks slowly, Rafe lifting his hips from the couch so you can pull them down just enough to reveal the outline of his pulsing cock straining against his briefs.

Focused, you lean over him, fingertips teasing the waistband of his Calvin’s, and place the gentlest of kisses on his clothed dick.

“Just wanna be your dirty girl tonight,” you say before dropping another kiss to the very tip, savoring the salty taste of his precome seeping through his boxers. “You gonna let me?”

Rafe nods obediently, eyes wide with amazement that you’re this good to him, “yes baby, give it to me.”

With that request, you pull the band of his briefs down, allowing his cock to finally spring free, humming contentedly at the sight. Before palming it, you pull his hand from your throat and move it to your hair. He catches on and wraps his fingers around your ponytail.

You wrap your fingers around his base, dribbling a glob of spit slowly from your lips onto the head, using it to ready him with a pump of your fist.

Rafe’s eyebrows knit together, in awe of you as he always is.

“Such a pretty cock,” you hum, “been waiting all day to taste you. I think about this dick all the time.”

It isn’t just for show, though you are speaking a little filthier than usual to add spice to his birthday gift, you really do think about him so often. He’s given you so much, the life changing sex just one piece of the puzzle he’s assembled for you through his love and care.

Eyes darting up to lock onto his, you flatten your tongue and run a single stripe up the column of his shaft, finishing with a playful flick at the tip.

His whole body shudders, the fingers wrapped in your hair tugging so gently you wonder if you’re imagining it, his other hand balled in a restrained fist on the top of his thigh.

“You know I love you, yeah?” Rafe whispers, soft like a prayer, like they’re the last words he wants to say before his soul leaves his body.

“I love you more,” your lips curl into a smile, punctuating the statement with a swirl of your tongue over his now throbbing head.

“Not fucking possible.”

You slip the hand not holding his cock to your lips over his clenched fist, guiding him to unravel it and laces his fingers with yours. You finally hollow your cheeks and sink your head down on him, softly gagging as your jaw goes to slack to welcome all of him into your warm, wet mouth.

When he’s all the way in, you gag again, the motion of your throat clenching around him mixed with the pornographic sound forcing his eyes shut as he grits his teeth at the intense pleasure. You lift up slowly then bob at a steady pace, slurping and gagging as you go, making the prettiest sounds for him.

You pop off of him momentarily to catch your breath, “you’re so big, love. ‘M gonna have to go slow.”

“T-a-ake your time,” he stammers out, hips jerking up unintentionally as you wrap both hands around his shaft and begin twisting your strokes at a steady pace.

As you stroke him, you rise up on your knees so your tied up tits move with each stroke of his cock.

“You haven’t opened your present yet,” you angle forward, eyes drifting to your barely covered chest until he catches on.

Rafe pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, fingers twitching with every stroke of your hand on his cock as he tugs at the edge of the ribbon covering your chest.

Pulling the bow apart, your tits bounce slightly, spilling out for him, and he nearly busts at the sight.

“Fuck,” he moans out. “I swear to god, baby, it’s like I’m seeing you for the first time every time. You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

Still stroking him, you stretch up to kiss him, the soft skin of your nipple brushing against his leaking tip. Rafe gasps into your mouth at the sensation, and you look at him with wide, mischievous eyes.

“Did you like that?”

You let your hardened nipple just barely brush against his overly sensitive tip again, and he’s nodding his head rapidly, “ye-yeah, yeah, yes…”

Lip between your teeth, you drag your nipple across his tip a few more times, collecting his precum on the hard bud. He’s nearly crushing your hand, biting back whimpers. You’re gasping again and again as your sensitive skin makes contact with his, surprised at how good it feels for you, too.

“This shit making you wet, baby?” He asks, eyeing the way your thighs squeeze together, body rolling desperately.

With a wicked grin you drag his hands to either side of your breasts, guiding him to squeeze them around himself. He lets out an immediate groan when you hinge your hips to raise and lower your torso, dragging his cock, sloppy from your spit, between your tits.

“Yes, so wet, Rafe. I love watching you fuck my tits, it’s so fucking hot,” you choke out between strokes.

He’s never seen you like this, so filthy and forward. But the beaming grin on your face as you watch him panting for your touch tells him you’re doing just fine, enjoying it even. He wants nothing more than to keep you looking like that, to keep making you feel good.

“What’d you wish for?” He asks impulsively.

“What?” You’re pulled from your focus on his pleasure at the unexpected question.

“On your birthday, what’d you want me to do to you?”

Your blush is immediate, shame swirling in your belly at the filthy fantasies that flash through your mind. You’re supposed to be making him feel good, but it’s these kinds of gentle reminders that he’s still in control that make your thoughts spiral to the dirtiest places.

When you don’t answer, Rafe leans forward, grabbing your hair again and tugging your head back just slightly, making you gasp at the pull. He kisses you hard and fast, a string of your mixed saliva hanging between your lips when he pulls back, just barely, to whisper, “said you were gonna be my dirty girl, yeah? Tell me what you really want, and I might just give it to you.”

The whimper that slips between your spit-slick lips is involuntary, and tells him exactly what he needs to know - that there’s more you’ve been waiting for, that you want him to be rough. Your next statement seals the deal.

“I wa…I wished you would tie me up,” you confess, voice so wispy and hesitant he can barely hear it. “I wished for you to tie my hands and fuck me ‘til I scream.”

For a second, you think he didn’t hear it, until he rises from the couch, forcing you to sit back on your heels. Rafe towers over you, his still-hard cock angry in your face. You look up at him from your spot on your knees, perched before him, gazing at your man with wide eyes.

You gulp down the nervousness in your throat, knowing you and Rafe were about to enter territory you’d flirted with but never fully crossed over into before.

He looks down at you, tilting his head. You’re so fucking pretty, perched for him, glassy eyes trained on him expectantly. He reaches behind your head and pulls the scrunchie out slowly, tossing it aside so your hair falls around your face. Hand returning to cradle your head, he thumbs your bottom lip gently, dragging it down with the pad of his large finger.

“Is that still what you want?” He breathes.

“Yes,” you nod.

“Good,” Rafe grabs both sides of his tie loop, pulling hard, exposed forearms under his rolled sleeves flexing as he tears the luxury fabric from his neck with ease like it’s some flimsy knock-off.

You’re practically drooling for him at this point. He rips his shirt open, revealing the sculpted chest and rigid abs you’ve been thinking about all day. He looks so fucking strong and powerful above you, it’s thrilling - the man everyone is scared of, you’d trust with your life. With your body. Giving it to him tonight, along with your whole heart, is the best present you can think of.

“Stand up,” he instructs.

You rise slowly, knees suddenly weak, trembling under his frame. He notices.

“You know I love you right?” He repeats his earlier words, but there’s something different about the question now. It’s a confirmation, and a warning. The subtext is clear in his low tone: ‘cause I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.

You nod slowly, grabbing the hand that’s not holding his tie, “Mhm, I love you too.”

“Good.”

He takes over your hand, pulling so you’re forced to spin, facing away from him. He holds your hand behind you, leaning low to drop a kiss over the racing pulse point on your wrist, another reassurance that this was all done in love.

Holding the tie between his teeth, he draws your other wrist back. Swift hands twist the tie around your wrists to hold them together tightly.

“Lay down,” he instructs with a final tug of the tie that makes you gasp, making moving your hands impossible.

Your knees sink into the plush fabric of the couch, turned head resting against the throw pillows as you arch your back up, ready and waiting for him.

The rest of his clothes torn off and strewn about the room, Rafe approaches, one knee in the cushions behind you. It’s just now that he notices your panties are crotchless, untying the bow over your ass with a smirk. Fuck does he love you.

His large palms glide over your ass, stopping to squeeze hard, “goddamn, I love this ass,” one hand wanders down, sliding through your slick folds without warning, making you suck in a sharp breath. “And I love this fucking pussy.”

One finger slips in, access to your core easy as ever with how drenched you are.

“You this wet from sucking my cock? Of course you are because you’re always such a good girl for me.”

“I love when you call me that,” you whine out.

“I know you do. Keep being good for me and I’ll say it again,” he adds a second finger, pumping harder than before, preparing you.

You whine and writhe below him, your wrists already straining against the restraint of his tie, desperate for more, “please, fuck me, Rafe. Please don’t make me wait.”

“What happened to ‘it’s your birthday, Rafe. I’m your present, Rafe’ huh?” He mimics your earlier words with a chuckle. He’s never talked to you like this, but you love it, knowing it’s all per your request he goes rough this time.

“But, y’know what?” Rafe wraps his hand in the tie around your wrists, tugging you toward him and making you squeak out a strained groan. “You’ve been so good to me all night, so I’ll give you what you want.”

He fists his cock, still wet from your mouth, in the hand not gripping the tie, guiding it toward your entrance. He starts with just the tip, making you arch your back to take more of him, confused as he holds still behind you. Just as you open your lips to question him, he tugs on the tie, pulling your body back so your pussy swallows his cock whole.

“Gah, fuck! Ohmygod, ohmygod do that again, please.” This position is everything you’d hoped it would be, and he knows it, grinning like a mad man as you babble below him.

Rafe braces himself, one foot still on the ground for leverage, his other hand gripping your hip so hard the imprint of his hand is surely permanent. He slides back out slow before pulling you back again. And again. And again.

Skin is slapping skin, and you’re barely coherent, a string of praises for him that he can hardly make out. He’s panting like a dog, tongue sweeping over his bottom lip as he memorizes the sight of your hands tied over your lower back as your ass ripples with each smack of his hips.

“So good…b-baby,” you croak out, the edge of something unfinished in your words.

He knew you were holding back one last thing, one last fantasy that you were denying yourself for fear of being too much for him. He needed to hear you say it, to know you gave him absolutely everything.

“Say. Call me what you really want to call me. Let me hear it, angel.”

“Feels so good…d-daddy.”

You worried it’d be too far, but it felt so good, like honey dripping from your tongue, and it sounded like music to his ears.

“Ahhh, yeah, shit. That’s my good girl,” he drawls, dropping forward to sprinkle kisses over your spine. “How long you been waiting to say that?”

“Since the day I met you,” you admit, your brain is too high off of him to filter your thoughts.

Rafe chuckles darkly behind you, picking up speed as he snakes his arm around your waist, fingers dropping low to run over your clit. And just like that, your wish comes true - he has you screaming for him now.

“Ohhh fuck me too, baby,” you can hear the smile in his voice. “Thought I’d met a goddamn angel when I first laid eyes on you, looking so good in that little skirt, I knew I needed to have you. I knew you’d be mine. But I never could have imagined it’d be like this. That you’d be my slut and the love of my life? I’m the luckiest fucking guy on earth.”

Tears slip from the corner of your eyes, a swirl of the overwhelming pleasure and the immense love you have for him. He’s still pistoning into you, lips dragging up and down your spine, hand around the tie securing your wrists.

Your orgasm is building like a tidal wave, growing impossibly large and looming over you with the promise of destructive impact. The pleasure he’s giving you is building so intensely, you wonder if you’ll be able to handle it when it crashes on your shore.

Rafe knows it’s coming, knows you like the back of his fucking hand.

“Come for me,” he asks with another pull of the tie, fucking himself into you so deep you feel like you’re one body. “Be my good girl and come.”

“Yes daddy,” is the last thing you say before it hits you, soaking his cock and forcing him to empty himself into you, groaning your name like a gospel song into your ear.

He unties you almost immediately, and you know as much as he enjoyed having you like that, he’s still worried.

You twist under him so you’re chest to chest, his face wrinkled with concern as he pants above you.

Resting on one arm, he grabs your wrist, pulling it toward him to examine it closely. There’s a slight red mark where the tie was tightest, but they don’t hurt and you know they’ll fade within the hour. His face, however, is twisted in worry like you’re terminally ill. He kisses over the red marks soft and slow, as if he can heal them with just his lips.

“I’m okay,” you whisper, your chest still rising and falling as you return to earth from the heaven he gave you.

“I- I just…” you lay silent while he searches for his words. “I’ve hurt people before, I never want to hurt you.”

You pull your wrist from his grasp so you can cup his face in your hands, pulling his forehead to yours, “you didn’t, you couldn’t. I wanted it, I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“You don’t have to do things like that for me,” he shakes his head, eyes closed with worry.

“You’re not listening to me,” you say a little louder, causing him to open his eyes into yours. “I’ve never trusted anyone enough to do something like that. I’ve never felt safe enough with somebody to ask for it. But I’d trust you with my life.”

“Really?” He mutters, jaw clenched tight, though his body starting to sink into yours is a telltale sign that he’s finally relaxing.

“I’m like over the top, disgustingly in love with you, actually,” you smile.

His lips quirk to the side, eyes twinkling with relief, “Oh yeah?”

Your eyes soften, arms wrapping around his neck to draw him closer, “I adore you, Rafe.”

“Babygirl, I adore you too, you have no idea how much,” he promises before dropping his lips onto yours, his kiss slow and unhurried, like he plans to stay here for hours. “And I think I’m starting to like my birthday.”

“Really?!” Your eyebrows shoot up in excitement, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Really,” he smiles. “As long as I always get to spend it with you.”

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november 4th december 4th same difference. happy birthday, sluts.

remember! writers live off of reblogs and replies, don't forget to feed your faves <3

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